[ This is Bruce Wayne's voice. Cheerful, foppish, and the audio itself is somehow unsteady as though he can't decide how close to his mouth to hold the device. Apparently his default is too close, because--well, you'll see. He speaks like he's called someone specific. ]

Um, hi there. I bet I mess this up somehow, send it to the wrong number - something like that - but I don't really know that many people here, and... Well, this is embarrassing, actually--

[ At this point he bumps the video feature on with his chin, and it records a swathe of his jaw. ]

Do you know how to cook?

[ He's squinting into the camera, super close when he draws the device back, so that only his left eye and a swathe of slightly too-long hair falling over his forehead is visible, and then that eye narrows and the feed shuts off. ]

[It's late at night when the transmission comes across and it's coming from one of the many kitchens where Angela's seated at a table, a small plastic tupperware container in front of her. The lid's been popped off and every so often, she reaches inside for one of the miniature Reese's peanut butter cups and unwraps it before popping it into her mouth. She's clearly been here for a while with the number of empty wrappers strewn around her, but she doesn't seem likely to go back to her room any time soon. At least not before she turns to the device and whispers into it.]

Most of you guys are probably sleeping or something. Who knows what time it is here, but I'm assuming you won't hear this until later. Either way, question mostly for the people who've been here for more than a couple jumps: do you get homesick? Or are you too busy dealing with the bullshit from the ship?

[Angela pauses to finish chewing the candy, following it up with another one that she swallows as she chooses her next words carefully.]

It's not like I've never been away from home. I've lived all over the world, some places only for a week or so, but at least I had a phone or the internet. Everybody I knew was never more than just a phone call away. I'm good for picking up and going because it's Tuesday, but I never stopped checking in.

[Another candy goes down before she lifts the wrapper in mock salute.]

Thanks for the candy, Isaac.

[ The image, at first, is kind of dark and blurred. He's been out of the loop for quite awhile, taking the time to check through some of the messages before giving up and tossing the device at the corner of his bed—it causes the picture to shake and briefly turn upside down before setting right again. By this time, he's managed to maneuver onto the floor, and it's pretty evident that he's 100% naked. Only his back and shoulders are visible as he frantically looks through something. ]

Shit. Where did I put it? [ More rustling, more cursing - fuck, fuck, fuck - and he eventually holds up a glass vial that fits into his palm. But he's not holding onto it for long, instead pulling the top from it and bringing it to his mouth and pressing it hard against his lips. Very obviously nothing in it, his other hand moves to grip some of his hair in frustration as he clutches the bottle. ] Get a grip, Beleth. This isn't the worst thing that's happened to you. What day is it? When was the last fucking jump? Dammit.

[ But maybe it is because he's squeezing so hard the glass is breaking, and it shatters a second later, shards falling and the leak of blood slow from where it's cut into him. He looks down, stares at it, and immediately scrambles for the device. Like he's known it's been on the whole time. ] I need—

[ He struggles with the words, a smear of red coating the top part of the screen where his thumb is resting. ] Fuck. I don't care if this is against the rules, or if this is gonna piss everyone off. I need more of this - [ And he draws his hand back to show a mess of blood and broken glass. ] - before I do something really stupid. Please. [ The rest of it is under his breath and mumbled: ]

I need help.

[When the camera feed switches on to show a young man with a distracted expression. He tends to pause just a bit too long between sentences and poorly maintain eye contact when speaking to the camera.]

Hullo, I'm Thrice and I was wondering if there's anyone else here who runs? I don't, I mean, back home, I didn't usually go with a partner, but I thought it could be a good idea here.

[He smiles, shrugs, and runs a hand through his short hair. Despite being in his mid-twenties, he's starting to go salt-and-pepper grey.]

Or, if you're, well, I'm in what's the future for me, and I was wondering if there's any other mathematicians or, ah, or computer science people on board? I'd love to talk shop. If you are. That is.