[When the video feed flicks on, it displays a dimly-lit room covered in some sort of greasy-looking chitin. Those who have ventured down to the science decks may be familiar with it, though it's bare of anything of value. In the background are workbenches and aquariums filled with what at a glance appears to be pond scum. The current inhabitant of this lab is little more appealing than the rest of his room - or, at least, what the camera can pick up of him isn't. Mostly, it catches his long white hair and his sharp cheekbones, his tired brow and the sensory pits carved into his face. His eyes are too sunken in to see, except when the light catches just right -- then, for just a second, his catlike pupils cast a greenish glow back to the camera.]

[And when he speaks, he sounds like rust and the creak of old leather.]

This shall mark the third time that I have asked for charity, and it shall also mark the third time that I have heard humans question why I have used another's voice to ask. To those who seek an answer, look to your kin who would call for my extermination, and you shall have it. I do not have time to waste upon answering to each of you individually.

It is to this latter group that I give this message. Your instincts do not allow you to abide a predator in your midst, but to kill me is to kill whatever slim chance you now have at returning home alive. I have been a spacefarer since before so many of your ancestors built their dens beside each other and called it Civilization. The scientific achievements that you laud or fear are as relevant to my kind as a stone-bladed axe is to yours. A human would grow old and die before I could begin to teach her all that I know about the spacefarer's life.

[He tilts his head upward slightly, and the light finally reaches his yellow eyes. He is old and tired, but he's proud of what he is. He is a man of the Hive, Son of Night's Lineage. Wraith.]

I cannot stop you from doing what you please, if you are truly determined to kill me. However, I will not be killed without it being known what it would cost this ship. Satisfying my hunger is a small price for the centuries of personal experience that you shall benefit from.

[He turns his head slightly to one side, apparently looking down. Whether it's merely exhaustion, or whether it's the shame of asking for help, is difficult to read.]

I have been notified that the ship's medical facilities are prepared to receive the volunteers. I cannot promise that it shall be painless, but it shall be as swift as it can be.



[OOC: Volunteers, please head right this way.]

[Remus looks pale and has awfully dark circles under his eyes, as per usual, and there's a fresh pink scar along the bridge of his nose-- but that can hardly be seen, because right now Remus is too busy flailing his hands around everywhere. He's in the media library, tucked between two stacks, far too many datapads surrounding him.]

Have you all seen this? Have you all seen this? Look at it! Oh, Merlin, I've never seen such literature-- and it's so extensive! I can't even choose, there's far too many-- Sirius Black, you are in trouble when I see you if you knew about this and kept it from me--

[He pushes his fingers through his hair. It ends up sticking up, but that's all right; he's too busy glancing down and scrabbling through the pile of datapads surrounding him.]

Like-- oh, look at this, it's this one story of a-- well, I can't hardly understand it, it's not of a human life, but I think it's a royal hierarchy on this one planet-- and oh, oh, there was one I found where it was entirely about time travel, and going to the future of a planet, and how he dealt with being a thousand years in the future-- oh, they're all so wonderful, I only wish I had more time--

[He glances up at the camera, manic and delighted-- but, because he's Remus, he bites his lip and tries to calm down a little.]

I can't understand why I'm the only person in here. There has to be at least one other person on this ship who'll be pleased by this public service announcement.