ataraxion | FIRST RECORDING

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FIRST RECORDING | voice

Hello? Is this contraption working? I -- ah, alright, it seems to be recording.

Do forgive me if I'm still a little confused, but you see, this is a little beyond my realm of expertise; and that, in itself is new to me! So, a question, if someone would be so kind...

Where am I, exactly?

[backdated to yesterday, by the by!]

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[Joy! Someone who sounds elegant and sophisticated! Why are those types so hard to come by on this ship?]

Oh, I'm sure no one will blame you for being confused. I know I'm still trying to get used to all this. We're on a ship, you see! But not on water - in space. Now, I can't tell you why we're here... I don't think anyone knows, really. But there's no need to worry. I'm sure there are plenty of people doing their best to get us all home.

[She doesn't sound sure about that last part, but she's HOPEFUL.]

You'll have to excuse my skepticism, but am I to believe that this is some kind of craft?

Ridiculous! It's far too vast -- I've barely seen a fraction of it!

I know! As hard as it is to believe, that is precisely what this place seems to be. I wouldn't recommend too much exploring. It's far too easy to get lost.

Excuse me? Wouldn't recommend exploring? Why, that seems hardly beneficial -- counterintuitive, even! -- to me, at least. And what harm could come of exploration, hmmm?

Besides getting lost? Well, you could get dirty! I can't even begin to imagine what awful dust and mould has accumulated during the time this ship was all but abandoned before we started appearing here.

You don't mean to tell me that you're afraid of a little dust, do you?

Certainly not afraid. But I can't stand to look like I've been wallowing in filth all day!

Well, that's understandable. I don't suppose that there's, ah, a great deal of filth to wallow in, here? So far I've only acquainted myself with the living quarters. Is the rest of this thing in disrepair, or something?

[Oh. British.]

It is depending where you are from. What year is it, to the best of your knowledge?

1858; year of our lord. Are you to tell me that it is also a different time in this realm?

1858... [if Natalia was sympathetic in nature this is where it would show, but-- she's a robot yeah] There was no such thing as this in 1858; I am knowing personally. The time we are currently in is ...debatable, but is being very far from yours.

[ A female voice with a perfectly plummy British accent. She sounds brusque, business-like... and a little bored. ]

You're in space, darling.

Ah, oui, thank you. In space. The great beyond! As helpful as it is comprehensible. No one bothers to mention exactly when mankind was granted this miraculous talent, to venture beyond our own home planet, it's simply a fact! A fact, taken for granted.

And so, thank you.

'When' is a terribly tricky subject, you must understand. Consider that very few of us share the same dimension - let alone a timeline! - and I'm sure you will spot the problem of establishing such a tricky point in time as when space travel was invented. I dare say you're human so I would hazard a guess at the twenty-first century.

[ she is so fucking patronising right now. Enjoy that. ]

And so, you are more than welcome. Any other questions in need of illumination?

[oh, okay. if that's the way she wants to play it, then! when she replies, justine sounds sickeningly sweet, almost to the point of aggression.] Why, yes! As a matter of fact, I'm a member of the human race. Last I checked, anyway. And goodness, how fascinating! I must thank you for being so frank, it's all so foreign to little old me.

[ ohhh aren't they a delightful pair. ]

Oh dear, poor little old you. [ your words, not hers, she's careful to stress that in her tone. There's an obvious smirk in her voice as she continues: ] But never fear, darling, I'll be on hand to help out whenever it all gets a bit too much. Now - [ Just when it seems Cambridge could not possibly be more obviously patronising she ramps it up a notch or two, and now sounds as if she's talking to a particularly barbaric ten year old. ] - what year do you think you're from, if you don't mind me being oh-so-terribly nosey?

Space, luv.

One is always in space-- that's its nature.

Nah, luv. I mean, we're in space. Stars and moons and... stuff.

Mmm, as I've been told. I'm still uncertain as to the... Believability, as it were. As fantastic as the technology is, I've yet to find a window.

I'm not so sure we ain't all dead, luv.

Since everyone else has already helpfully said space, I'll elaborate with "aboard a ship called the Tranquility."

Other than that, I'm afraid we're not certain.

Thank you. Much more informative! I don't suppose the ship lives up to its name, mmm?

Of course not. You've a few hundred people displaced from almost as many different universes and worlds. Indeed, thus far I've met a part dog, part crow, and part man creature with an attitude problem, a blue man, and several robots. Rather difficult to have things be tranquil with that sort of crowd, don't you think?

I should imagine so, yes. But my, my, my! What a collection of stragglers and ruffians! Monsters and strangers, it would seem. I simply must meet them all.

Just so, just so. Even if the way we were brought here was right rude, it's still seldom we have such opportunity to see such diversity...

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