voice, two hours before the jump;

[2leftfeet]

{Petrelli had suggested they record their goodbyes, but histrionics have never been her thing. If she's dying here, she's at least going to be damn sure someone can get some use out of it. The message is riddled with static, but where it isn't her tone is firm.]

You all know most of this already, but this is a report for anyone who wants the full details in addition to the new passengers who will arrive during the next jump: six days ago, sixteen passengers including myself a͠͏̶̀t̵̛͝t̵̸̛̀͏e̢̨̛͜͝ḿ̨̀͢͡p̶̡̧͜͜t̴́͠e̵d̶̡͘͟ ̷̀͜͞t̷͢͟o̸͡ ̷͘t̷͠a҉͠҉̵k̵͞͝͡ȩ̶̀̕͠ ̵̵p̕͡҉̴̶ơ͏̸͜s̸̨̧̧s̨͞e̷̴͟͡͞ś͞s̶̷͏̵í̢̨͘͞o̡͢͟ń̛͟͞͠ ̴̨̡̀͘o̷͠͠f̶̨͟ the bridge. We successfully accessed the deck, though the door sealed behind us. While on the bridge, we were unable to bypass the security encryption on the ship's controls; we also weren't able to determine if that was the doing o̶̶̧̡͡f̸̧͞͠ ̴҉҉͟͡ą̷͡͡͠ ̧̀͜͝t̕͝h͏̶̧͝i̸̡͜͝ŗ͟d̛̀͜ ̵͢͜͡ṕą̶̡r̢͞҉̷͡t̨͜ỳ̛͠ ̵ó̵̀r͟҉͠ ̸̶̨̕͠a̸̧͢ ̷͡f̸́͡l̢̛͢͠a̸͜w̧͢͟͠ in the system. [Though from the edge in her voice, it's pretty clear her money's on the former.]

Approximately-- [a moment of hesitation, because she's not even sure if this is close to accurate] --three days after being sealed on the deck, the state of the bridge had become n͏o̢͝͞t̵̶i̸̢͞c̀͏̕e̕͠a̷̷̛͘͡b҉̡́͝l̴̴̀͞y̶͟ ̕d̡͘͢ȩ͡t́͘e̡r͡͏̸̕҉i͏͏̴̀̕o̧͞҉r̢͞a̶̛t̡͝ę̶̶̧͜d̷̸̢́͠. Approximately four days after, passengers on the bridge b̷e͘͠g̵̨͢͢a̴̴̧̧̨n̡͡ ͏̛͟t̸̀́͘͟ǫ̀ ̛̕͠e͡҉x̸̀͡p̧̕͟͝e̡͜r͜͟i͢͏̴́ȩ͢͡͞͠ņ̶̢́̕c̷̷̨͞e̵͡ ̷͠p̸̵̡̡͝h͘͏̸̕y̸͏̴̶̛s̵̨͘i̷̢̧͢c̸͏̶͢͟a͏̧ļ͝ and visual d̸̡͞i̷͠s̴͜͠͏t̨͘ų̴̛̀r͘͠b̢a̶͢͜͡͡n̷̸̕ć̷è̢͡ś̷̨ ̷̨͢í͏ņ͟ć̢͘͠͡ĺ̸̛͝u͘͞d̵̨͘͟i͏͢͡ǹ̶̡ģ̛͠͡ murals similar to the ones seen elsewhere on the ship. The deterioration of the bridge seems to have been real, or at least a shared hallucination. The rest came and went at random intervals.

I can't guarantee that a second attempt to access the bridge would result in the same, but my official recommendation would be to avoid it until someone installs an escape hatch or puts together a p̧ŕ̴͜͠o̕͡g̷̸̷͠r̶҉͢a̵̸̡͜͞m̴̴̕͝ ̸̨̛͢t̷̨͞h̛̛͏҉̨a̛͡t̡̛͟ ̛͡͝c̡͜͏̵a̶̶̧͞͞n̶̢̕ ̸́b̵̴͠y͟p̷̧͜҉a̵̡s̴͏̸̛ş̢̨͘͟ ̴̶̨͡͞t̛̕͏̡h̵̢e̴̢̡͞ ̕͢͟s̶͢e̛͟͜c͘͠u͢r̵͘͘i̶̧͡t҉y͟͡͞ encryption. I'd also suggest a distraction somewhere else on the off chance that we're being d̶̵̀͢e̵̡͡͝͝t̴͞a̢̕͠ì҉̸̧n̛͞e̴̶d̵̶ ͘͘͠͏h̵̡e҉̸́ŗ̵҉e̶̷͞ ̷̴͢b̧̛y̧͘͡͝ a crew member and not a rogue a̶r̀́͜͡t̵̕i̴̵̛͞f҉̢i͢͜c̶̨í̵̕a̵̵̧l̴̵͏ ̨̕̕̕i̵̴n̵͞͡҉t̷́҉̶̢e̶l̢̀l̨̨͞҉i̕͝g̀͞҉͞͞e̵n̷̨̨̛c̛҉̀é̶́͢ ̶̵́̕͘i̸̷͘͢͝n҉̨ the ship itself.

[Speaking of AI--] Topher, since I have Juliana in here with me, you might want to consider the possibility of finding someone else with her expertise.

If there's anything I can clarify before the jump, ask. I'll do my best t̵̨̀̕͜ó̷͝ ̵̡̨g̨͠e̵͘t̷́͜ ̸̡͟͞a̷̡̢̛͡n̡̕͞s̸̷̢ẁ̢͝e͡҉̛̕r̛̀̀̀͡s̷̕͟͝ through.

[Which is all there is that's really worth saying though instead of cutting the feed entirely, she pauses. There's a hiss of static or an intake of breath. Javik is here with her, but Garrus, Joker, Tali--]

Good luck. The next time you see me, [some version of her, or him or however it works] I e̷͞x̶̷̛̛͟ṕ͜e͘͟c͏̷t̵͢ ̴̢͟͜a̷͢ ̷̸̡͏͘b̶̕͝͡͠ó̵̡̀͘t͏͠t̨̀͝͏̧l̛͠e͜҉̶҉͜ of ryncol.

Comments

action I suppose?

[rubblegoddess]

[Juliana watches her send the message, looks on as it plays on her device, too, getting the whole thing quietly in stereo. But when her name is mentioned, she puts a hand to her chest and sighs.]

You thought of me. I'm honored. Touched, really.

actions all over you!!

[2leftfeet]

[It's been a long six days and while it might not show in her voice, it definitely does in her face. The fact that eating and sleeping has been a largely negligible concern doesn't really help - not from a psychological standpoint. She should be sleeping, eating. Because she's spent days on her feet, but this is getting ridiculous and some part of her recognizes it as unnatural and unsettling.

So yeah, she looks tired - more frayed out than six days should really account for (though not nearly as bad as, say, Haymitch). There's no smile reserved for Juliana, but after a few days spent making cheap jokes torn from the page of Garrus Vakarian's personal handbook to keep spirits light, she can at least manufacture a respectable lightness to her voice when she speaks.]

Of course. I've been stuck in a room with you for six days, Juliana. You're not exactly easy to forget.

action

[rubblegoddess]

[Juliana looks positively miserable, herself, pale and shaky and wide-eyed. It's slow signs of slipping, of not being able to hold back a condition that was easier to fight as she was before. And she envies the people around her, functional as they are, used to being living beings and not products of science and technology. She's not accustomed to any of this, and quite suddenly wishes to reject the whole damn thing.

Let her go back, let her stop, let her go. It was easier. It was less frightening. The human mind just doesn't have the stops and checks she coded into herself.]

I'm really unforgettable in so many ways. I've made a little niche for myself, haven't I? My expertise--what expertise were you speaking of, by the way?

[2leftfeet]

You know AIs and tech.

[She doesn't want to specifically use the words 'used to be one.' It might be late in the game and her money says she could tell Javik to stand down if it was a problem, but it's a conversation she'd rather not spend time having - not right now.]

I told Topher he should work on getting you plugged in.

[rubblegoddess]

Yes, of course I do. I'm an expert, indeed. Maybe when we leave--if we leave--if something can be done, we will have to do it. Attack from within, rather than without. This is outside the system, still.

[And it's making her crazy, quite literally. But there's a will and therefore there must be a way. If only Lieutenant Keyes were here. He'd have a solution.]

I'll try, once we're out.

voice;

[chickenselects]

[Worried? Sure. Upset that she didn't think to call him up for yet another suicide mission? Goes without saying. But none of that's in his tone, and he's not using video for the fact that he doesn't trust himself to manage the mechanics of human expression.]

You sound like you're planning on dying. [Sarcasm. As usual.]

voice;

[2leftfeet]

[Oh, she thought about it -- and has regretted not pulling him into this a few times over the last few days. Now though? She's not regretting it now.]

That doesn't sound very much like me. [Returned. As usual.]

[chickenselects]

Then I guess this is the part where I start accusing you of being a clone.

[2leftfeet]

That's pretty rich coming from a human claiming to b̸̶̕e̢̨͢͠͡ ̡͠͠t͘͞h̡e̴̕͡ ̴̢̛͝b͟͜͜͞é̛ś̷҉͘t̶̛͡ ̨͘̕shot out of Palaven.

voice »

[blabbers]

We're going to see you soon, Shepard. [ a little in denial? maybe. ] But if you're aiming for a celebration, you're going to need more than just one bottle.

voice;

[2leftfeet]

In that case make it three bottles and we'll call it a day.

[We prefer the term 'compartmentalization,' Tali.]

[blabbers]

[ compartmentalization, denial — potato, potato. ]

If you're not planning to share, those three bottles will kill you before any Reapers can.

[ but the alternative is a drunk tali and does anyone really want that? ( spoilers: probably not, don't make her vomit feelings all over you ). ]

[2leftfeet]

If someone m̸̡͟͟a̶͘͞͡n̷҉͏a͡҉̶̧g̴̸͡͞e҉҉͞s̵̵̶̡͟ ̧͢͝f̢͢͡͝į̶̷̧̕n̶̵̢̧d̨͡҉s̡̕҉̢ ҉͞͏ţ̴̶͟h̷̸̸́͡r̴̨̀͝e͜ȩ̵̡͜ ̵́b҉̶͘͟o͏̀t͢t̵̛͟͟͞les of ryncol u͜҉p̶̛ ̢ḩ̸e̡̕͠ŗ̕͘͠͞é̴̢,̷ ̢͠Į̀͜͏̛ thinķ̸̴̷I͏̸ ̡͘c͝͠a̷ņ͜͠͝ ͜͝f̀͏̧i̷̸͝n̷̢͟͠d͏̕͢͜ ̶̕͢it in me to share.

[Pretty sure that qualifies her for a sainthood. --Not that she's dying.]

Action because I say so;

[ancientalien]

[He is on the network, because there are very few other things to do while he waits for the doors to either open or for their organs to smear the rotten fabric and rusted metal of the deck. He had attempted to sit alone with his thoughts, meditate as he had often done before- wait, until there was something to kill. It had not worked. The sounds came, when there was silence, until they were too much.

So he sees the message immediately. What to say to it, however-]

There is some relief in it.

wow rude

[2leftfeet]

[She likes to think they're better equipped for this kind of thing than most people - or rather, Shepard doesn't like to think about any of that at all when there are options like 'deal with facts' and the pressing need to get information out rather than take it in, but some low part of her probably can get that as far as to think they've handled this with more grace than other people might have. Than other people did.

Not that it really matters in the barest sense.

She straightens, shoulders square, momentarily setting her comm aside on one of the consoles as she turns to look at him.]

In what?

[ancientalien]

Knowing that you are not my Commander.

[This is not quite what he means to say. It is, on the barest level, but even he knows this needs clarification.

She deserved that much.]

That she is still out there. That even if I have failed she may yet succeed. The slim chance.

[He looks at her, eyes sliding sideways]

The human- Nathan- suggested we record a farewell. But even if our allies make it home, they will find us. We will be able to say the words with our own tongues. Whatever we wish to say. To whoever.

[2leftfeet]

[She balks before the clarification - a slight tightening of her jaw, a subtle squaring of her shoulders like she's donning some kind of armor she didn't expect to have to be wearing (which, she thinks briefly, is stupid of her). She's sick of this shit - on Horizon first and now here where she seems to be constantly undercut by something.

She doesn't quite settle after, though not because he's wrong. Somewhere, in some separate universe, his version of her is stopping the Reapers or at least in a position to try. And in some separate universe, her crew is on a Collector base, her ship ready to jump after them. There's an egoism in her that says it means they're as dead as she is here, but Lawson is smart. --Or, more specifically, that it isn't like they expected to come back from the Omega-4 Relay in the first place (even if now she knows it's possible, that sometimes there are universes where they do).

It's not his Shepard here, it's her. It's not a failure on her part (because she doesn't think of that word specifically), but it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She returns his sidelong look with a frank one; her tone is crisp, dry:]

Defeating the Reapers is, what-- a million to one chance? [Worse than, but screw it.] If there are as many versions of us out there as it seems there are, odds are it's getting done in one of them.

action because i want it.

[kutte]

Shit. You calling it?

[ jax hasn't stopped pacing, looks more and more like a caged animal as the minutes pass. they're dying. they're going to die. this is a bullshit way to go out and jax is furious about it. he wants to beat his fists on the door, but that's not going to get him anywhere. the show of temper has nowhere to go.

he has one cigarette left. he taps it between two fingers, nervous energy to keep his hands from shaking. ]

good

[2leftfeet]

[She'd personally pried up a long section of grating from the floor in hopes of accessing some kind of maintenance hatch or ventilation shaft, but at this point Shepard (and she thinks everyone) is pretty distinctly sure of the fact that there's no getting out of here - not if whoever's got them locked in here doesn't let them, whether that's Ward or some rogue AI or something out of a nightmare. Shit fact? Sure. Shit fact. But they haven't gotten much out of this for all their trouble and right now, with two hours to jump, she doesn't like the idea of wasting her time on more meaningless overtures.

She won't say it to Garrus or Tali or Joker, but in a closed room where they're all very aware of their chances she can be honest with Jax Teller.]

If we're dying in here, I want to make sure everyone else out there knows what was going on in here.

[It's not hard information, but it might eventually be worth something.]

[kutte]

If.

[ jax lets that hang, like he isn't sure whether or not he wants to disagree. if they die, like it's not a certainty. there's something intense in his tone, vibrating through him. it's barely suppressed motion, like jax wants to try to put his fist through the door, see if that works. ]

You don't think they're gonna write it all off as cabin fever?

[2leftfeet]

If it becomes relevant, someone'll remember it.

[The passengers of the Tranquility might have a short term memory for most things, but she trusted there were a few conspiracy theorists who would at least keep track of the weirder end of things - visions and environmental anomalies and all of that shit.]

voice;

[a1]

[ she doesn't know how clear the message will sound, but she can't say just ignore what's happening. let them all lose hope. teresa wishes she could do more; she can't do more than what everyone is already trying. ]

Better see you. I still have your jacket — well, I said I'd return it.

voice;

[2leftfeet]

[Her reply comes with a decidedly light tone, not entirely affected. She has two hours and isn't going to spend it on self pity.]

I had it on loan too. If Sherlock Holmes e̵̵̕v͞҉e̶̢̢̡̢r͜͠ ̸̀͟s͏h̷̶̨o̴̷̢͘w̵̨͜͜͜s̵̨͡ ̧́͟͟h͏̶͟͝i̡͝s̀҉̛͠ ͟͏f̴̢͟҉a̕̕͜͞c̛̕͠͏͜e͢҉̴̨ ͞҉́h̵͟͢e̵͜r̷̴e͏̵̶ ̶̨͡a̶̡̨͞g̸͝͝͡͏á̴̢͟͢i̡͏̀͘͞n͟͝,͏͡ ͟͡͏̷̷y̨͜͝͏o͘̕͞͝͝ú̶͝ ̴̶͡ç̡̛̀͢a͢͡͏̷͘n̶͘͢ ̴͠ return it to him.

voice;

[a1]

There's still time.

[ she replies back quickly despite the half-missing message. there isn't time. maybe that's why she's panicking to grasp on what little there is. the name doesn't sound familiar, but she remembers it anyway. just in case. ]

You said the bridge is deteriorating, right? Maybe they can finally get the door open. People are still trying.

[2leftfeet]

No one's q̛͏u̸̧͞i͟҉̨̕͞t̵t̸̢͠͞í̵ņ̸̵̸͜g̛͘.̷̛͡ ̷Ćơ̴̸̕͠n͘͏s͘҉ì̵̛d̢̢͞e̸͟r͟͠ this a precautionary measure.

[Which is fundamentally a lie; she tore up long strips out of the bridge's grate flooring to try and access maintenance hatches to no avail - if the degradation was effecting the doors, they'd know it by now.]