[Christian still isn't sure he's using this thing, whatever it is, correctly. It confuses the hell out of him. But he's seen other people popping up on his screen, so he can only assume that when he pushes something that says video and sees his own face on the screen that everyone else can also see it.

He clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and-]

Hello, my name is Christian, and... well, I'm really not sure at all what I'm doing.

[His expression tightens a bit, his eyebrows drawn together. The confusion his clear on his face- and fear.]

Everything is very strange and I suppose I would really just like some sort of better explanation for what's going on.

[Should he stop there? Should he keep going? He clears this throat again.]

Right, well. Thank you.

[ Well hello, network. Here, have the dulcet tones of a woman who is both livid and mildly terrified at the idea of being taken away from her newly assigned starship and crew, as well as being stripped of her hard-earned Starfleet uniform and forced to wear a jumpsuit that might possibly be worse than the ones used for the Kobayashi Maru test. After her arrival, Uhura basically just showered, got dressed, and pretended not to be sick until she found her room and composed herself enough to record this message. It's the first time she's spoken since she got dumped onto the floor in a pile of goo. ]

This is Lt. Uhura of the USS Enterprise, and I would like to formally request a direct conversation with whomever is in charge of this operation. I would at the very least like to be given a reasonable explanation for this kidnapping, as well as the whereabouts and status of my fellow crew members, and-- and my uniform, I would like my uniform back now, please.

[ DAMMIT. ]

Thank you.

[The device clicks on the video recorder to reveal a pale man, tired but fully aware. There's always a sense of restlessness and a weight in his eyes that not even the technology of this ship could rid him of, but his current situation doesn't quite invite a lighthearted mood to begin with, does it.

He's been lost, confused for someone else, drifted away from the crowds and dealt with a headache he couldn't control, all the while trying to place a name on the idea that there was someone he was missing. Several hours later Bass has checked the network and tried to use his abilities to make sense of this situation and find out what happened to that someone -- Bonnie.

The tone is deliberately careful and his sentences slow.]

I need to know why we're here. The prophet couldn't do this. The sulfurs couldn't do this, either. [Way too fucking elaborate for a problem that could've been solved by just shooting him in the head.] So I need to know what you want, and I need to know what you did to my sister.

More importantly, I need to know that she's okay. [A beat. Suddenly he doesn't sound so careful anymore, tension growing in his voice.] Because if she's not, you're going to be in very, very deep shit.

[Silence. Having said that, Bass takes on a new expression, brows knitting only slightly, message carrying a much more personal purpose.]

Bonnie, if you can see this -- just say something. [She should know what he means: Call for me, even if it's just in your thoughts.] I'll find you.

[Click.]

[ The woman on screen is glaring down at her arm, a hint of black – her number – visible as she shifts. ]

I’ve woken up in some weird places before, but this is definitely the weirdest. [ She thinks. Her memory is, at the moment, still a bit fuzzy thanks to whatever was in those tubes, the “stasis” – she’s trying not to think about all the things that could have been done to her while she was out. Tattooing was apparently one of them. ]

Also, I found this in what’s apparently my locker. [ Her hand opens, revealing a switchblade. ] It’s not mine, but I’ve seen it before. If you know who it belongs to [ and there is a faint note of hope in her voice; she may be in space but this belongs to her brother ] come and talk to me.

[ That should be the end of it -- almost is, in fact, her hand reaching to cut the connection, but then Jaye pauses. ] He's my brother. [ And then it cuts out. ]

((ooc: WOW I HAVE THE BEST TIMING right after I post this I am informed that I'll be leaving the house soon BUT I WILL BACKTAG FOREVER))

[ you know what this network needs, denizens of the uss creepy spaceship? 100% more hipsters.

LUCKILY, chapel is here to provide. everyone please mock his cardigan—or listen to what he's got to say. either/or, really. ]

Hey, fellow space kidnappees. If anybody else is interested, I've been organizing all the scientific books I can find—well, I say book; they're more like little holographic USB sticks—and putting them in one place. A lot of 'em are pretty kiddie, but there are some college-level textbooks scattered around, too. Nobody's going to be teaching themselves doctorate-level physics off this library or anything, but there's enough here to kinda get caught up on hundreds of years of scientific development.

There's really only one rule: if you take something, bring it back—and when you bring it back, put it back where you got it. I'm not actually a librarian, and I really don't wanna have to organize all this more than once.

And I think when you close the books, they default to opening on the page they were open to last rather than at the beginning, so be kind and rewind. That's more of a guideline than an actual rule, but you should really do it anyway.

Anyway, that's about it. It's in the 25th floor rec room, right off the green lift. Can't miss it.



[ ooc: also open to action tags/moving into a log if people want. :|b

UPDATE 5/11: tags will probably be a little slow and/or nonexistent until monday. sorry, guys. :c ]

[Zatanna appears on-screen looking like she had just gotten out of the shower.  Her face is virtually unreadable as she tilts her head to one side, towel drying the ends of her long, black hair.  She's dressed in her usual beige capris and purple tank top, though the latter is spotted with water from the wet strands.  Addressing the camera directly, she sounds oddly calm for someone who's just experienced the things she has.]

One question.  

Well, okay, maybe more than that...but for right now, let's just focus on the one.

[She pauses to casually flick her hair back, continuing the drying.  Her voice is flat and unamused.]

Was the slime really necessary?  

[ ahem, using this thing like a phone because he's really not interested in wasting time trying to figure out just how deep the rabbit hole goes in terms of what it can do. that comes later. ]

Good— [ . . . ] whenever it is.

[ his voice might sound familiar to some of you, if slightly more nasal; there's a steady metallic clop-clop, clop-clop in the background that sounds not unlike horse hooves on steel. Anything is possible when your man's been abducted to live a doomed life in space and is riding his mare around the corridors! I'm on a horse. ]

Seems like as good a time as any for a proper hello. And since we've all got some time to kill, I thought it might be nice to play a quick game of Questions. Or—Facts, I suppose. Whichever works best. I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you... loads of fun.

[ okay so he's not exactly gagging to talk about himself, but if there's a fast track to gathering information, it's to come right out and ask for it. tit for tat. ]

I'm called—

[ he pauses.

this isn't Wonderland; nobody knows him here, except for Alice, and she doesn't exactly pose a huge threat to his well-being. Well, not any more, at least, because nobody knows about the Stone of Wonderland here; the likelihood of the both of them being tracked down and killed for it has been significantly diminished. he figures it's okay to be honest about his name, if nothing else. ]

—Hatter. Now, your turn.

Also. Directions to this oxygen garden thing would be— much appreciated. I've a horse here in need of some greens, and she's a bit twitchy from being kept in the dark.

[ reluctantly finally: ]

And if you see an old guy with a crazy goatee in a suit of white armor spouting nonsense about—I don't know, mystical vapours of destiny or something, you should probably let me know.

[ Elena's laughing when the camera turns on, and she's fussing with her comm, trying to get it to stay upright in front of her on the bed while she sits cross-legged in front of the view. Her hair is still wet from her shower, but otherwise she looks pretty damn happy, considering... everything that just happened.

Jenna stands behind her, combing her hair out and looking a little overwhelmed, but happy herself. ]

Is this right? --It's like face-time, right? No, c'mon don't laugh at me I don't wanna mess this up.

Think of it like... Skype in space. Same general principle-- which means stop talking to me and address your adoring public.

[ and then Elena waves once at the camera, like she's just remembered it's on and broadcasting, and Jenna just laughs and continues brushing. ]

Um, hey. I'm Elena and I'm new here-

[ another burst of laughter from her before she keeps going ]

Sorry, I'm really bad at talking to a camera, um. I'm actually looking for my friends, if any of you guys are around. [ She sobers up a bit, not liking the idea of them being all split up, even if she does have Aunt Jenna right here with her. ] Bonnie and Caroline, if you're here let me know. [ weird quirk of a smile at this; ] I don't wanna be in space without you guys.

-- Stefan and Damon too.

[ Jenna, visible in the background, rolls her eyes at the second name but doesn't comment, letting Elena have her moment. (SORRY, ELDER SALVATORE. YOU TOUCHED HER UNDERAGE NIECE, YOU GET ALL THE EYEROLL.) ] You better be okay, if you're here. And Jeremy! Check in, please. You can't hide from us forever! [ more laughing again. ]


( ooc | FOR SAKE OF EASE dialogue in purple is Jenna, reddish is Elena. replies will come from both! )

[The white, grinning mask filled the entire screen. It might be pretty recognizable to some. The voice was female, slightly metallic-sounding with a very subtle echo that was likely due to the mask. She still manages to sound quite playful in a dark way.]

Interesting location. Looks like I'm a long way from home... I could use some company.

Let's cut to the chase.

Anyone willing to strike up a bargain benefiting both parties during our stay here had best get back to me soon~. I have quite a few things to offer the right person, should I deem you worthy of my time. It would be foolish to think there aren't advantages to working together.

[At least until she could land on her feet.]

Guessing everyone's feeling a little closer to compos mentis now. Great, that's gonna make this a whole lot easier.

My name is Nathan Petrelli. I'm Senator for New York, elected representative of the people, and recently made Head of Homeland Security by the President himself. It's my job to do what's in the best interests of the people, and in this case I figure that's gonna be easier said than done.

I don't want any of you to worry. Once I get up to speed on the details of what's going on here, I intend to get to the bottom of how we got here, why we were brought here, and how to go about getting back. And I mean how and why, not the bullshit they've been feeding you about jumping and wormholes and the ship needing a crew. There's a malicious intent here I'm gonna address, and then I'm getting everyone back where we belong.

I realise we're not all Americans here, and maybe you think I have no jurisdiction, but I earned the right to intervene the moment I woke up with a tube shoved down my throat, just like everyone else. I want to speak to people who know the most about this place, or be directed toward them. Captain Kirk: you're on my list for starters, but I'd rather speak to the real Captain, rather than some washed up wannabe.

( Not an IC cut - trigger warnings for mentions of depression and suicide, and Nathan is not delicate )

[Claire appears on the screen, relatively calm though focused. She's sitting, busying herself with something before looking up.]

So what is our purpose here? What are we supposed to do here? I'm interested in what people have done here so far. What sort of lives are to be led? Are their jobs, duties, how does survival work in space -- if that is to be believed.

I'm assuming I have no handler, and if this is some bizarre Dollhouse, then it's something I haven't seen. [And if it's the Attic, she doesn't care that she just outed the existence of Dollhouses.]

I do better with routines. I am a doctor. Sort of. It's what I know how to do at least.

[Right. Okay. Buffy's gotten herself a little settled in, figured out that 1) this isn't the CDC and 2) It's a hell of a lot worse than being in a CDC facility. Not least because Shaun and George didn't seem to be here, but not most because of it either.

But the important next step is meeting the people who are here.]

I'm sure that at this point is where I'm supposed to say that it looks like truth really is stranger than fiction. After all, look at me. I'm on a spaceship.

[She laughs brightly.]

But I have to say. Fiction is still stranger. After all, I could write a story where I were on a spaceship full of killer rabbits. Or giant friendly octopodes. Or no, it's not a spaceship after all, rather we're on the back of a giant walrus.

Still, as far as realities go, this one is a little strange. I'll grant that.

[She shifts the communication device back enough that she can wave at the camera, then moves it forward again to focus on her face.]

If you're still listening, then you're probably not the type of person who's going to tell me to just get to the point, and I think that we'll get along.

Hi. I'm Buffy Meissonier, I'm new, and it's nice to meet you.