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[The feed opens on one of the all too familiar passenger rooms. While it may technically be his though, it isn't where he's been staying. But it'll do for what he has planned now; namely making his presence known. He's done with having to keep his head down. If there's someone on this ship who's out for his blood, here he is, a sitting duck.]

Okay, fine. I get it, alright? This is me buying in to this shit. Happy now?

[... No, he isn't entirely sure who that's aimed toward. Don't mind him. He's just pissed off, tired, and still feeling like he needs to puke up his insides. And it isn't all down to the grav couch. Thank a certain other arrival's existence on that one.]

So does somebody want to tell me where I go to hitch a ride home? I've got shit to take care of, and being stuck a billion miles...lightyears- Whatever the fuck you want to call it -away from Earth really wasn't factored in to my plans.

[Not that there's a real plan to mess up though. Oh well. Please ignore all the posturing. Really, this is a welcome break from his life back home.]

How about a drink? There's gotta be some kind of alien bar here. What good's the future if you can't have alcohol?

[There's a lot more questions on his mind, but, priorities. So instead, he's just going to cut off there. Much easier.]

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Hitch a ride home? What, you think we're all here 'cause we're enjoying the space tanning, dude? [Don't be a dumbass. Even if your post sounds scarily like Dean's when he first got here. He's just going to gloss over that part. But this isn't just to react badly to that brand of attitude he's scarily familiar with.]

There's no way out yet. We're still waitin' for the smartass puzzle club to figure it out.

No fucking idea. Though looking at some of the people around here, I wouldn't put it past them sticking around for fun.

[Look, Dean. You know he's focused on the important stuff, so quit it.]

Please tell me we're not waiting on some after-school program to fix this shit out?

Careful what you get overheard sayin' around here. Some of those people would eat you for breakfast. [Which might be a slight exaggeration. Then again... maybe not.]

Me? [He snorts, half-amused.] I don't rely on other people to fix my problems. I suggest you don't either, man.

[That warning goes ignored. The whole point of making this post is to root out any threats against him.]

I'm not. Why d'you think I'm looking for a way back myself?

You're talkin' about hitchin'. There's nothin' about that that doesn't sound like you're relying on someone else. [Dean just knows better than to try and take one of those shuttles for himself. For starters? He has no freaking idea how to fly one.]

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audio; /THREADJACKS I HOPE THIS IS OKAY

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audio; oh bb always! <3

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[Whaaat theee helll-]

What happened to you?

[She knows he can't possibly be Charles. Well, kinda. She does think it's Charles, because hello, his face. But everything else is wrong, literally everything, his voice, his expressions, his ..vocab.]

Who are you?

[Well hello there. Now he's done with the freaking out phase, he has time to enjoy the scenery a little more.]

Maybe the same thing that happened to everybody else who was dragged here against their will. But who knows.

The name's Wesley though, last I checked.

Wesley. [What kind of-- Gah, this doesn't make sense. This doesn't make any sense at all and why is it that as soon as Charles gets taken away from her, in walks this guy with his face and nothing else even remotely familiar?]

Wesley Xavier, maybe? [Genes were weird. Maybe Charles had a twin ..cousin.]

[Well, someone's a little too interested there. He may be trying to call out those enemies, but he's still got to play it safe to a certain extent too.]

Any reason you're so curious?

Because you look exactly like my brother! [Kind of blurted out there, and next she's flicking through her ID photos on her device until she finds the one she took of Charles. All the while kind of mumbling;] Well not my brother, we grew uo together, but I know for sure he doesn't have a twin, especially not one that grew up in America, it makes no sense- [After a few seconds, it's sent his way.]

See for yourself.

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Consult Jenna.

SH

who's jenna and what should i be consulting her about?

Liquor.

SH

sounds like my kind of girl

Most intriguing. Is this a definition that
is despairingly used or one you easily append on to other women?

SH

[wryly;]

If you find an answer to that, I'm sure we would all love to know.

Depends on which part we're talking about. Cause if it's the alcohol? I can't promise anything.

That's quite alright -- by all means, keep it. [Chuckle.] I'm more interested in a way home.

Trust me, I find a ride home, you'll be able to follow the trail of dust straight back to Chicago.

Going to be moving that fast, huh?

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[Jim understands why people keep asking, but it gets pretty tiresome to him.]

That isn't going to work, Wesley.

[Hi there, familiar voice. He doesn't know if hearing Jim is a good thing or not.]

So I should just give up right now?

I didn't say that.

[Jim's the last person to tell anyone to give up.]

[ she saw that comment, sherlock. ]

Hi, I'd be Jenna. Apparently your go-to alkie.

Oh, perfect. We have drunks aboard this ship as well.

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