It's incredible...

[ The video feed of the comm unit jumps to life - a vibrant mess of abundant green flooding the screen. The graphics jumble as she walks, feet a little unsteady on the overgrown soil of the Tranquility's untended oxygen garden. While the camera woman is off-screen, behind the device, there’s a laugh, a bit of disbelieving joy in her voice. An edge of teasing. ]

Whoever was left in charge of this was apparently fired for good reason. It's a mess in here. [ A pause, a bit of awe in her voice ] A beautiful mess...

There’s a lot of work to be done, which I know some of us have already started, but lucky for you I've got a life's worth of experience plus a couple degrees in weed-pulling. Not to say a few extra pair of hands wouldn’t be welcome.

[ She turns the camera to face her, Cory's bright smile taking up the screen. ] My name is Corazon - botanist formerly of the Icarus II. If anyone would like to help tending to this jungle, meet me in the oxygen garden whenever is convenient for you. Mace, Capa - for you it's required.

[ With the laugh in her tone slowly fading, sobering and being replace with a slight hint of unease. ]

The oxygen garden is the heart of this ship. It is our life support. It requires care and attentive hands. [ A pause, and she nods, a hand rested on her hip. ] We can’t have it forgotten like this.

[[ooc; feel free to respond with action or whatever else you please! /o/ FYI, I'll be a bit slow tonight ;; ]]

[It's taken Raven a while to get the courage to talk on the Network, not exactly liking the fact that she didn't know who exactly she was talking to, but whatever. Charles could worry enough for the both of them, and she has questions, regarding her abilities. Plus, she has the distinct advantage of looking like whoever she wants, so. She picks a face she's used before (same coloring as her usual shift, just a brandy new face. and shorter hair. she's always wanted to try shorter hair), and flicks on her device.]

So, this might seem like an odd question, but I was wondering...

Has anyone else been feeling a bit off since they arrived here? Not from whatever they dosed us with to sleep, not that sicky feeling we woke up with, but just. After the fact? Like a noticeable difference in your physical or mental capabilities? [She clears her throat, squints a bit.]

Like me, for instance, I-- [Well, someone didn't think of a pretend mutation to use as an example.] --at home, I could run very fast, extraordinarily fast. Like a cheetah fast. [She makes a face, because this all sounds very stupid right now, she's sure of it.] Meanwhile, here? My whole body seems to feel a little off. I tried to run, but my body is sort of weakened, in a way. I use all my strength to hit the speed I used to be able to, but I can't come close to it.

Has anyone else been experiencing this kind of ..limitation? Or should I be freaking out that whatever they used to knock me out might be having some long-term effects? [Like how right now a sheen of sweat is forming along her brow from the effort it's taking to hold this physical form. Ah.]

Any G.U.N units out there, this is Agent Shadow. I've been brought aboard a spacecraft known as the Tranquility through unknown measures. Situation and hostility currently unknown.

As for the people on board this ship itself; if anybody can provide me with the necessary information on who I have to take care of for turning me human and returning home, I will be appreciative and perhaps let you live.

It doesn't seem like any of us know just where we are or how we've ended up here.

[a soft breath, and then:]

Would anyone be interested in exploring this place with me? I need to see if some friends of mine are here.

[she's hoping against hope at this point, but.]

And if you don't... is there any way I can be of assistance?

I'd like to help if I can.

[She's used to this, following orders and directions, and even if her head is still a bit fuzzy, she knows how to do that much. She's already slid into her crewman's uniform without question. Blue-eyed with orange-dyed hair, she looks a little bit like she's ready for Halloween in this getup, but whatever.]

Thumos here, student ID 44932. Uh, any sisters who are out there should ping me, because this is really not cool. Sparrows should warn us before she starts piling this shit on to everybody.... Keyboard? Orchid? Thundersnow?

[She keeps spewing names, waiting for an answer that's never going to come. She stares at the comm a moment longer before she takes a deep breath. She sets the phone down and takes a pistol from its holster instead, checks it over to make sure it's loaded and ready. Ka-chink.]

All right then.


[[ooc; brb going to sleep, but I was excited about the ooopppeeennniiiiiing.]]

[ The screen flickers, and a girl of about 11 with long brown hair and eyes that seem to stare right into the heart of you appear. Despite the communication device visual, it's apparent she's a little different then most little girls. Maybe it's the way she bridges her fingertips,  or how she purses her lips before speaking. ]

 All of this communication babbling has to stop. You're doing nothing by clouding the waves.

[ She extends three fingers ]

[ The video feed clicks on to reveal Robert Capa — a man in his mid-thirties with shaggy hair (still damp from the tube where he awoke) and a five o'clock shadow and narrow shoulders covered by the ship's uniform he found in the locker marked with his identifying number. His eyes, bright blue, are particularly striking in that they are wholly calm, despite the latest series of events. The rest of his face is calm as well, the muscles of which never really rearrange themselves much to convey this emotion or that. When he speaks his voice is measured and even, though there is a certain start-stop to the cadence.

His words are prefaced with an inhale. It seems to steady him. ]

I guess I should start with the obvious question. We can figure out where to go from there, depending how the answers trend. [ Capa rubs his chin; the scrape of his stubble is audible. ] Is anyone here part of the ship's natural crew?

[ He pauses, letting that inquiry and whatever implications it may carry set in. There's a vague flicker of emotion, maybe worry, in the set of his mouth but it's as understated as the rest of him. ] And maybe, more importantly: can anyone recall how they got here?