ataraxion | 001 ( video )

[ Oh dear. That's rather a grumpy face on the other end of the feed. It's the face of a telepath with a pounding headache - not nearly as bad as he would have imagined, given the circumstances, but still rather bothersome, all the same. There is a great deal of exasperation in his voice as he speaks, as if he's a parent reprimanding an errant child that keeps making the same mistake over and over again. ]

I would like to state for the record that this "jumpsuit" is an absolute travesty. I have no intention of wearing it for extended periods of time- [ the bare shoulders visible in shot should be some indication of this ] -and God knows I am incredibly hopeful that in time it might be possible to find some alternative clothing that isn't nearly as criminal as this. I'm practically offended.

[ A brief pause, another faint wince as the headache throbs. ]

In any case, I suppose it was about time to make proper use of this little device. Good day, fellow captives, I hope you're all as delighted as I am by your existence upon this ship. My name is John Buchanan, but you may call me Oxford instead - it doesn't sound nearly quite as dull. [ He smiles, just a tad, and it's unclear why. Maybe at his little jab at his given name, maybe at something else. ]

Finally, a small request; if anyone has some ibuprofen, I'd be much obliged and indebted if they could perhaps share it before my skull cracks in half.

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To a similar extent, I imagine. [ A sudden pang of annoyance that shows on her face; the pitiful state of her precious power is almost painful. ]

[ He knows that look, my dear, even when it isn't being worn by a familiar face. ]

... Not one that you're enjoying, I would assume.

Do you remember... [ she starts, about to ask whether he remembers that time when she truly lost her power - but Cambridge pulls up short, cutting herself off with a frown. It was so terribly odd to think that they might have shared experiences from other sides of dimensional walls. She shakes her head sharply. ] It isn't as terrible as it could be, I suppose, but it's damnably frustrating.

[ He has a feeling he knows what she was going to ask, but he doesn't pursue it. It is terribly odd, and Oxford's not quite sure if he's got his head wrapped around it enough to delve into memories that they both have. That can wait, for now. ]

I understand entirely. [ But he smiles, ruefully. ] However, I must say in my case it also feels like something of a blessing in disguise; I dread to think what kind of a headache I'd have if I were here with my power in its usual state.

[ The reduced severity of the headache was, in fact, the first clue that Oxford had here that his power wasn't quite the same. ]

Ah - of course. [ she raises a hand to her temple, a gesture of sympathy; she remembers exactly how much her Oxford had always dreaded flying. ] I don't suppose you will be able to escape, unfortunately...

[ she trails off, suddenly struck with an idea. ] If we come across any crew members I think it would be a damn good idea if you gave them a bit of a mental, ah, examination. I daresay you'll be able to extract more answers with your method than mine. [ she purses her lips; admitting that her plan wasn't exactly working did not sit well with her, at all. ]

No, but one hopes it might take a matter of getting used to for the discomfort to subside.

[ Oxford's smile turns a little more conspiratorial. ]

Ah, my dear, are you quite sure you're the technopath here? You practically read my mind. I will be sure to do exactly that - if I find any of the crew members, that is. This ship is absurdly large.

I'm full of good ideas, didn't you know? [ OF COURSE HE DOES. She smiles a knife-edge smile and pauses to once again scrutinise the face before her on the screen. She continues, in softer tones: ] Quite large indeed. And rather full. Despite our - ah - differences, I rather think that we should join forces. Agreed?

My dear, could I ever refuse such an offer? It's very reassuring to be acquainted with someone of your very specific calibre.

Darling, you're too kind. [ really. ] I don't suppose you've discovered your cabin quarters yet, have you?

[ Oxford raises a hand, showing his tattooed wrist to Cambridge. ]

I have indeed.

And what number have you been assigned? [ Cambridge echoes his movement, displaying her own. ] I appear to be unlucky number thirteen.

One hundred and sixty four.

[ He drags out the pronunciation of the word slowly and with some amount of distaste. ]

Such an uninteresting and meaningless sounding number, if you ask me. At least yours has some history, so to speak.

Oh, dear. Yes, that is a rather disappointing number, isn't it? [ She makes only the smallest effort to actually sound sympathetic; really, she's a little pleased that her name is at least rather exciting. ] But I'll bear it in mind. Perhaps I'll afford you a little visit at some point?

[ No surprises there, but at least Oxford is expecting it. ]

A visit? If you can bear to bring yourself all the way here. It's a bit of distance between us, after all.

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