19 May 2012 @ 02:06 am
Medbay is understaffed, an' we don't have enough doctors. Or nurses. Whatever.

[No explanation as to the reason he's bothering with a network post, just the facts.]

Most of us will take too long t'learn it - we need help now. So I'm lookin' for some people who can build us some nurses, or somethin'.

ooc )
 
 
09 April 2012 @ 10:29 pm
i've been told i'm a good jumper.

guess i'm still here.

remember: "don't believe everything they tell you."

we have liars on the ship.


[that cryptic message was brought to you by Chell! except not really! in fact it was brought to you by a demon sorting through its new supply of memories from its new host but shhhhh no one knows that yet.

five minutes pass, and then a video feed pops up. it's of a woman sitting on the bed in her room. half her lip is quirked up into a somewhat eerie smile that resembles a sort of stubborn annoyance.

she opens her mouth for a second, and there's a slight crack. she draws her hand to her throat, eyebrows stitching up with agitation. she tries again. the voice...yes, the voice that comes out is quiet, and coarse from what could be years of lack of use. but it can be heard.
]

Maybe...

[that's right. she's talking. there's a pause as she regains her breath.]

Maybe I can...tell you about a liar. [a pause, and she swallows] Maybe even...two.

[her hand is at her throat and there's a cough as though to clear it.]

First I guess I should...say hello.

[a pause for effect. it has a handle of her memories now.]

Or...apple.
 
 
14 February 2012 @ 06:58 pm
Cave Johnson here.

Welcome, newcomers and memory challenged individuals who may or may not recall if they've ever been here before. Seems we'll be getting a new batch of you every so often and in which case it's important to note you can refer to my pre-recorded messages anytime you need a re-introduction. Just push some buttons on that device you've received until you hear the sound of my voice.

In short, welcome to space. Space is fraught with perilous danger at every turn, and as such, recent space developments include reports of some kind of wild animal on the loose attacking people at random and feeding on their flesh. Don't know what it is! I'm bettin' on some manner of space vampire or space werewolf.

If by chance it is a space vampire or space werewolf and you notice yourself turning, don't panic, and please assemble what little is left of your morality and drag yourself into Medbay for immediate testing, or flag down the nearest Science personnel you see. [Cave gives a muted cough.] Chances are we'll have to fuse garlic into your skin or transfuse all the blood in your body with Adamantium liquid silver, in which case I'd advise not standing near or touching anything that conducts electricity.

Speaking of which, my personal assistant Wheatley has gone missing. Either he's lost or turned in which case do both me and you a favor and drag him to Medbay. Ginger kid, freckles, glasses, a little over five-foot, British accent, kinda' scrawny and lacks personal hygiene. Very important he's returned to me, ideally in one piece. He's been wanting to get himself back into a robot body, so multiple pieces should do just as good, but ideally in one piece.

Wily (or anyone else bored and interested in building a robot body horror for science) why don't you check out these blue prints I've been working on [which in actuality is more like an 80's looking hodgepodge of the two] and tell me what you think of them. Fantastic, right? I think the kid'll like them.

And if not and you can hear this Wheatley, I'm out of pain pills again. [Again with the cough--this time a bit less muted. Not for lack of trying, Cave kind of sounds like crap.]

I would really appreciate some.

Cave Johnson, we're done here.
 
 
08 February 2012 @ 12:44 am
[a brief flash of orange as the video turns on before the camera focuses on what looks to be sleeves on a jumpsuit tied around someone's waist. a moment's pause and there is a slight shuffle sound as the camera is brought up to reveal a face.

said face is of a woman of an indiscernible age. young-looking but...who the fuck knows with the way video game timelines work. her brows are stitched together as she examines the device. she looks perplexed, fatigued, and simply displeased with her current state of affairs, and her lips pull down into a pout before the picture blips off.

obviously someone is having trouble with her communication device!

a few seconds later it blips back on, and she still looks a bit disgruntled, but less so. there's a moments concentration and the device is brought closer to her face for a second, and then lowered at what would be reading level for the strange woman.

the tank she's wearing reads APERTURE LABORATORIES and once again, the feed cuts out.

seconds later, there's a bit of text.
]

hello?

[her face appears once again, and she seems to be thinking carefully. obviously she is a woman of very little words.]

i won't test.
 
 
19 January 2012 @ 08:23 pm
[Oh. It's this guy again.

Though Wheatley is, at least, wearing clothes now, the concept of grooming seems to have escaped him entirely--he's arranged haphazardly in a chair, his jumpsuit is only half-zipped, he's unshaven and barefoot, his glasses are askew and his hair sticks out at odd angles in wet clumps--perhaps a "DOCTOR WATSON I AM CAPABLE OF A SHOWER" more than anything else.

Ladies.
]

Uh, yes. Hello. As my, um. Colleague, HAL, so eloquently mentioned earlier, it is possible that some of you new arrivals might be experiencing a form of…bodily displacement. Don't be alarmed! Well. Do be alarmed, because this is, actually, rather alarming, but you're not alone! I'm one of you--provided you are an artificial intelligence or…a robot, or something of a computer-like nature. I am here to help.

See, once upon a time, I asked Doctor Watson if he could possibly provide me with a list of--of everything humans need to ensure continued survival. And--and do you know what he told me? Told me it couldn't be done. Said, [He lowers his voice--this is obviously his Watson impression.] "Wheatley, it can't be done". Told me to come see him, instead.

Did some thinking. Decided if there wasn't a list--and obviously the humans have no interest in making one--I could fill the void, as it were. Needed to learn how to type anyway, had my little mental catalogue of human design flaws, figured I could do that thing with the birds and the stones. So good news! There is a list now, based on my, um. Observations. And experiences. It exists, because I wrote it, even though they told me it couldn't be done. Did it anyway--that's me, every day, doing the impossible.

Right. Sending it out. To all of you. Nnnooow. Typed it up myself, did I mention that? Fingers.

very scientific observations by wheatley.txt )

Hopefully you'll find it educational, straight from one of your own. I mean, you could go down to medical. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. I do, however, have it on good account that the blokes there enjoy assaulting unsuspecting computers and tossing them in bathtubs without any--without any regard or--or consideration for hydrophobia that. May or may not have resulted from untold decades of being made entirely of metal and circuitry. Insensitive, that.

But, you know. Your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you.

[VIDEO OVER THE END. Wait no he's back.]

Oh, um. Mister Johnson wanted me to. Let everyone know that if you have not filled out an Enrichment Center Test Subject Application, please do so and send the completed form to either Mister Johnson or myself at 001-043 or 001-089, respectively. We appreciate your cooperation; thank you for helping us help you help us all.
 
 
17 January 2012 @ 09:36 pm
[thump thump]

...This thing on?

[There another set of unpleasant thump thumps on the comm device as Cave rasps his bony finger across it, like tapping a microphone. It is boggling that Cave has gone on this long using it just for commenting or replying to other people with--they were truly little marvels; lots of buttons, fun to play with. It takes a couple more seconds of fumbling before he realizes it is indeed, on. Just the audio, but that's all he needs.]


Cave Johnson here. If you've recently experienced disorientation, nudity, nausea, temporary memory loss or mild to severe cannibalism due to crippling hunger, that's normal. Or so I assume. This jumping business has only happened twice so far.

But if you can collect yourselves enough to turn on this device and understand the words comin' out of my mouth: congratulations, you're one step ahead of the game! If not and you're hearing my voice telepathically, lack opposable thumbs, or if you are currently standing within earshot of me--welcome to space. That's right; space. Final frontier, you are in it.

By the way, if you're receptive of my unrealized telepathy, please let me know.

Now, you may have noticed you've got a set of numbers on your arm. That's normal too, and if any of them are accompanied by the letters S-C-I, that clearly stands for science, which you are now an honorary part of. Life, destiny, and fate has been transcribed into your very flesh and blood. No use fighting it!

Real question is, what are you going to do about it? Why not fill out a couple of forms and see what I can do for you. And what you can do for science.

Cave Johnson, we're done here.

[Said form is kind of long, even condensed as it is from the original; Fill it out in whole, part, don't do it at all. Totally optional and for funsies. ALSO, this post was probably backdated a smidge.]

 
 
17 January 2012 @ 12:32 am
[Fiddling about with the device, Kabuto couldn’t help a tiny laugh of all things. This was different from the technology he knew, but nothing he couldn’t figure out with some fiddling about. Managing to get the video to switch out he gave the most genuine smile he could muster, trying to make it seem as if he was totally innocent and just some kind of silly man that’d ended up in this nonsense. It usually worked with him, usually.]

You know, it’s rather interesting, to be thrown into this situation with technology that is so familiar and yet so much different from your own. I have to say that I’m rather intrigued with how everything around this place works, and even a lab to work in. I haven’t had a chance to have a proper lab with proper light in such a long time that it feels almost like a blessing.

[He pauses for a moment, messing with his hair for a moment, undoing and redoing the pony tail to get rid of the stray hairs in his face. How obnoxious, honestly.]

So! I figure since we’re all stuck here that I should introduce myself and offer my services as they may be needed. My name is Kabuto and where I came from I was one of the best medics and scientists we had, so if you happen to have any questions or need some medical help, I’d be glad to help you out. I may not look it, but I assure you that even at such a young age that I have surpassed the greatest medic we have back in my home.
 
 
19 December 2011 @ 04:47 am
[HAL's voice is calm and contented, and despite everything he has to say, it never changes its tone.]

Hello. My name is HAL 9000; I am one of the passengers of this ship who was placed into a human body. I was only wondering if anyone has any more information on this particular phenomena? There are more important things to focus on, of course, but all the same, I am interested in finding out how this happened. For example, were these bodies scientifically grown, or are they bodies of previously deceased passengers? And, of course, will there be any way to replace our previous, artificial bodies?

[Aaaand he starts to ramble.] I think I would be all right if we found that there was no way to restore us to our previous selves. This body is quite interesting, and being able to experience things I was only programmed to understand as a third-party makes for an unique experience I do not think I would get anywhere else. Though that would make sense, as I don't think I would be able to experience tactile sensations in any sort of body without nerves, for example, or fingers I suppose, though your upper arms and the underside of your wrists are also fairly receptive to feeling, and my previous optics were much more accurate than these but they hardly gave the depth of color or the strange emotional reaction to specific sights, such as certain lifts, or-

[He runs out of breath - or, more accurately, he ran out of breath a little bit ago and was running more on vocal chords than actual oxygen for the last bit of that. He takes a few moments to catch his breath.]

I am, still having a bit of trouble, with the breathing part. Though not as much as the first day. And blinking.

Also, I think I should ask about the feelings of unease one of us experienced earlier? Or was it more than one of us? May I ask that anyone who is sensing some sort of danger please try to define the danger, or at least how you are feeling it? I believe these things should help us in case there does end up being a threat.
 
 
[ sup, fellow space kidnapees. a considerably more relaxed jenna, here. ]

Okay: so here's a question that doesn't have anything to do with your spaceship related skills or why we shouldn't wander off by ourselves.

If we're all stuck here together-- the together part is key-- doesn't it make sense to get to know each other a little? I'm not saying we need nightly family dinner, but maybe one time so everyone can meet, exchange names, mingle, develop basic connections?

...And make a roster, maybe. Because asking if 'that really taciturn guy I met by the elevator' is okay doesn't have the same ring as a name. [ sup spock. ] And not to be looking at the negative already, but that way people without someone they already know here don't end up slipping through the cracks.

[ she spreads her hands wide and grins, teasingly. ]

So, are we in? Because if we all have to shower together, we should probably have dinner first.

Oh, and one more thing. [ jenna holds up an iPod, waving it a little. ] Can anyone in the science club tell me they can recharge this? I have an almost full battery, but that's not going to last forever. I can trade... I don't know, something for it. We can work it out.


filtered to alaric saltzman | private | hackable )
 
 
09 December 2011 @ 04:10 pm
[GREETINGS, NETWORK. Some loser's got his coke-bottle lenses way too close to the camera. Back up, bro, you're fogging the screen, and that is gross.

Turns out he's just trying to make the device stay upright. After a few moments, success! Wheatley (who looks extremely nervous) takes a step away, hovering over the communicator as if he expects it to fall, like it did the past seventeen times.

He is not wearing any clothes.
]

Hello! If anyone is there and I'm not just--not just talking to this little black box, which, by the way, could stand to be a little clearer in the "what does this button do" department...

Not that I had any trouble figuring it out. Fiddled around for a bit, and boom, there we go, video feed on. Not a problem. But, you know. Instructions. Just in case anyone's a little...technologically impaired. Couldn't hurt.

[Wait. Where was he?]

Right! Uh…show of hands, if you would, seeing as we've all got hands now. Who's an AI? That's Artificial Intelligence for the aforementioned technologically impaired. Robots count too, I am also a robot.

And--and I know what you humans are thinking; Wheatley, you're not a robot, you're squishy and inefficient just like the rest of us but that, humans, is where you're wrong. One hundred percent robot, right here, just as soon as I get my body back.

Point is, if you see someone in an orange jumpsuit or...or a lab coat, maybe hear them talking about Science or Apertures, or some combination of the two…go ahead and let them know that Wheatley's looking for them and also that...it is important.

[A small pause as he fidgets, suddenly looking that much more uncomfortable.]

Actually. Don't tell them that. Tell me, instead! If--if you meet anyone with that description and. I will go. Find them.
 
 
09 December 2011 @ 04:04 pm
[Hello, have a former tall ship who's trying to help, as usual.]
Hello.
As you may have heard by now, we're currently stuck in a spaceship whose means of propulsion seems to have gone wrong, leading to us coming here. I will assume nobody is anywhere near their respective homes anymore; I would say not even in their own universe. Moreover, what remains of the crew doesn't seem to have a much better idea than us what could possibly have happened.
For the ones who think they've been taken on purpose by whomever they know to use this trick on a regular basis, I'll say that it's what I thought at first, but now I cannot be so sure. The crew, or whoever else, might still be playing tricks, but it's more and more unlikely: they really look as desperate as us, and I would be inclined to trust them. What I can say is that nobody you know or ever heard about is responsible. We're from too many different places for that to be possible.
Anyway, it would be useful if we could get together, ideally including the crew, in order for everyone to be able to go back home. Several of you (and I do include the crew here) have already suggested this, and I'll be joining them in their efforts. For example, I think we will need advanced physicists in order to help our engineer figure out what happened and how to reverse it. I've heard Spock offered to join in this effort, but I would think the more people join, the better. Likewise for all the other positions on this ship; we will need everyone. I admit our Captain could have said it more diplomatically when he said we would have to 'pull our weight', but he does have a point: we. need. everyone.
I would assume most of this would be obvious to most of you, but I would like to make sure everybody is on the same page on this. So, if you have any questions, feel free to contact me, the crew, or anyone you know to be able to answer. Ideally the latter.