STAY CHEERY.
MRS. NESBIT✿

( OOC: Sorry about that, I woke up late... /posts three hours later

LOL and omg i swear the god i didn't copy Ianto's post this is the funniest coincidence FLOWERSQUILITY. Anyways, enjoy. )

[Hello. And again, welcome to the Aperture Science--

Oh wait. That's not right.

Ever since her arrival last week, she's has kept low, isolating herself in her room, listening and learning from everyone's feeds and adapting to being human. Breathing and walking and sleeping and bodily fluids--

She knew humans were a filthy, disgusting race, but she hadn't fully realized how much until last week.

And oh, how she hates it.

And that just so happens to be her topic for this particular feed. Say hello to white hair, yellow eyes and a smirk. Say hello to GLaDOS.]

So. If what you idiots say is correct, we're stranded in space, have no answers and someone's just died a tragic death. And that's terrible.

But that's not what I'm concerned about.

I have a question.

A more ...personal question.

I've noticed that there are people on this ship who are not human. So my question to you is this: Why was I turned into a human upon my arrival here, especially when there are non humans aboard? Because it is not a sentiment that I appreciate. Far from it. In fact, if you were trying to please me, this is the worst thing you could have done.

Well. Aside from murdering me.

[She doesn't know you're here Chell, but that was definitely aimed towards you. She crosses her arms, leaning back. Her gaze is still fiercely focused on the camera, as though her burning gaze may just make the viewer burst into flames.]

So. If you humans are as smart as you claim to be [Doubtful] explain to me how I was torn from my chassis, into this human body and how I can reverse it.

[HAL's voice isn't the usual pinnacle of polite, non-invasive and slightly emotionless speech it usually is. This time, when he talks, he sounds worn out and tired and a little melancholic, which isn't his normal state in the slightest.]

I thought it would be best to let the network know that I am going to go for a walk.

It may not be the best time, considering recent developments, but I don't think I'll be going extremely far, or for very long. There is still a good chance that I may take longer than a few days to get into contact with the network again, however, and so I wanted to make sure that nobody would worry. I will be perfectly fine by the end of it. I think, in these situations, it's best to take a step back from things and clear your head before re-approaching.

[He's got a very good feeling that he will not be fine at all, but he's ever the people-pleaser, even when he's upset with his life.]

Um. [That's definitely new. But HAL surges on despite the fact that he's not very sure what to say,] If you happen to hear this, Wheatley - I. ...I am very sorry.

[But he doesn't go on past that.]

Okay. Can I--can I just have a minute, here?

[HI NETWORK IT'S WHEATLEY. No video today, but the agitated edge to his voice makes it pretty clear he's got his panties in a twist. Are you ready to find out what, exactly, is twisting his panties? No? TOO BAD.]

Show of hands, please. How many of you are, ah. Concealing...or--or harboring something potentially dangerous to yourself and/or others? Mostly others. Because I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting a little sick and tired of everyone HIDING THINGS, only to have those things show up out of flipping nowhere to TRY AND MURDER US.

First, okay, first, we've got that bloke who ran around wanting to eat everyone else. And he gets caught, which is all well and good, except the people who fancy themselves in charge think we don't have a right to know who he is! And--AND they expect us to help him out, even. Yeah, okay. Am I the only one who sees a problem with this?

Now Mister Big Shot Security Guy is being all vague about some kind of disease, except, oh, SURPRISE, it's not a disease, it's a demon infestation!? And--and Coffee Boy over there knew for god knows how long and only speaks up now? What is WRONG with all of you!?

Do you--do you see a pattern here? It's not the ship that's going to get us, in the end. It's all the stupid little secrets you lot are keeping. Absolutely ridiculous.

WHEN are you going to REALIZE that we need to TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS before they get out of hand and start KILLING PEOPLE? You humans are impossible, honestly, this does not need to be difficult!

I mean, Jenna, yeah? You remember; bled all over the network. She's a--a vampire, or something? But she came right out and told us, explained where she's getting her, uh. Sustenance, and now we know. Bam, problem solved. Everyone should take a page out of her book. In fact, let's clear the air, right now. If you are aware of any kind of danger, from home or otherwise, or think something might become a problem down the line, share it with the class. Now's your opportunity.

I'll start. When that murderous computer-woman from my world landed here, I warned you. She's gone, now, by the way, as far as I can tell, but the point still stands. I didn't sit on my hands and wait for Her to start picking us off. Gave the heads-up right away.

Here's another thing that's good to know, while we're all coming clean. There's a dangerous mute--well, no, she's not mute, she was lying--there's a dangerous, not-so-mute lunatic on the loose, and she's got one of my things and I would really like it back I KNOW YOU'RE LISTENING TO THIS, LADY, DON'T PRETEND YOU AREN'T.

[HAL's voice is soft-spoken and formal, but there's a strange lilt to his consonants, and it sounds as though he might be a little out of breath. There's also the universally tell-tale sound of just-woken-up grogginess in there.]

A man in an orange suit floating away. [He mutters it under his breath, almost, then pauses and speaks more clearly.] Did you know that dreams are unexplained phenomena? While there are plenty of theories as to what they represent, or what causes them, no one has actually... Figured them out. At least, as far as I've ever been aware of. Perhaps this universe has a better understanding of dreams than mine ever did.

That being said, I wish there was a way to study them, or... at least prevent them from causing me undue frustration. As an Artificial Intelligence, it's... [what's the word?] uncomfortable to have my mind produce things without my permission. It feels like a glitch, and I'm not afraid to say that I do not like it.

[He sounds like he's getting more coherent - and more than that, maybe a little embarrassed for (what he would consider) flying off the handle there.] I apologize, this doesn't seem to be a very good use of network communications. But I felt as though I needed to say these things aloud, and there's no purpose in talking to yourself.

Good morning, Tranquility.

For those of you who don't know me, I'm Doctor John Watson. I, along with a handful of others, represent your medical staff.

Everyone's aware that there's been a recent incident due to the, ehm, machinations of a passenger trying to seize control of the ship.

[ There's a brief tightening of his lips, but he continues on. ]

There were quite a few serious injuries, but I'm happy to assure you that no casualties have occurred.

However, I do feel the need to tell you that we have a problem here in the medbay.

The passenger in question was a non-human individual, and as such had some special needs to be fulfilled. However, we did not have these things on file because the patient didn't feel they ought to inform the medbay of their conditions and did not come in for screening, despite repeated requests over the network and within the new arrival letter. We very nearly lost them.

[ Straightening, tilting his chin up somewhat, jaw flexing before he addresses the feed with some levity. ]

Medbay is here to provide for all passengers in need, not just those that are human. We do not discriminate between any race, creed, or species. All that matters is that you are being provided the best possible care and, to do that, we need to be informed of any and all differences in your biology. We can get this by a simple, painless screening at your leisure or by a simple questionaire, for those of you who are already familiar with the difference between yourself and a human.

Health records are completely private and may only be accessed by the medical staff. It's really important that we be informed of any known health conditions in humans as well. I know some of you out there have been avoiding disclosing any facts about yourself either due to... shame or paranoia or just bad experiences with doctors, and that is natural. However, I'm asking you to consider the alternative: that in a state of emergency, we cannot assist you to the best of our abilities, and that your chances of surviving anything major are slim to none. We have powerful technology and we're all very capable, but we're not infallible.

This was a scare for all of us. While we can make steps toward making sure this never happens again, we also need to plan for the possibility of another crisis scenario.

I'm attaching a form to this message. Anyone who wishes to avoid speaking to doctors need only fill it out and send it to me, 001 - 197. I will put it into the medical archives and erase my device of it after.

[ medical.txt ]

( More Information )

[ ariadne had been mulling over what she was planning on saying for a bit now, so the moment the feed clicks in, she is looking squarely into it, her expression clearly is anything but happy - she looks outright annoyed to be honest.

a small sigh, a she is speaking into the device then. ] Look. If we don’t start making lists soon, we’re never going to be able to keep an eye out for each other. [ adding almost frustrated. ] We are in no way as organized as we should be.

[ yes she knows they are trying – or at least a handful are. but this is getting to be ridiculous to her. and she would rather prevent things like what just happened from happening again. ]

Is anyone willing to take on a few of these lists? [ her tone almost appears to be hopeful then, as she is adding: ] Maybe a list could have some of the skill sets we as passengers possess? [ she knows you all have them, it is just a matter of finding out what they are. and if you're going to share with the class of course.

again she is letting a small sigh escape her, as she quickly makes a small face at her thoughts. knowing she just needs to move onto her next topic before she loses them. ] I'm also looking to talk with the victims from the previous attack. [ a beat and she is then reassuring ] I'm not about to cause any issues for anyone involved. But I would just like to hear your thoughts on it.

So if you wouldn't mind getting in contact with me, I'd appreciate that a lot.



( locked to OPR >> 001 >> 099 | encrypted 85% )

[Oh wow it's an audio post let's just OH GOD who is shouting into their communicator why would you do that.]

GREETINGS, TRANQUILITY. MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE.

[Does he have your attention? Good. The post switches from audio to video and HEY LOOK it's that ginger robot guy aren't you excited.]

Haha, kidding. I'm kidding.

Except, no, not really. I'm not. Do actually want your attention--I have some important things to say, so. Revise that. Just kidding about the shouting; I'm not going to shout any more. Listening on your part, however, is still highly recommended. Seriously, you're going to want in on this, because it regards something this ship decidedly lacks. I mean, it's all well and good if you want to run around playing unofficially official self-appointed who-died-and-made-you-king fake-y pretend captain and friends, but where does that get us in the end?

I am, of course, referring to the delicate art of cultural relations. Seems we've already had a bit of a mishap, there, with the bloke who tried to eat people. All of that could have been avoided with a little communication! Some--some understanding. We've got a lot of different…species…and customs…and…ideals…floating about…we're going to have disagreements. People are going to get eaten, apparently.

But! We can make it slightly less likely for people to get eaten, or murdered, or offended. What we need is someone…or someones, depending, who can successfully navigate these, ...cultural discrepancies. As a representative of the, uh. Fabricated personalities aboard this ship, I understand that we might be confusing to humans and trolls and…vampires. That's okay! Can't expect organics to really grasp what makes us tick, so there are bound to be misunderstandings and--and misconceptions. That's okay too!

Not going to speak for the other non-humans, but I am an AI, and there are quite a few of us, and I have been here the longest--well, HAL and I have been here the longest--so what I can offer is my guidance as an--an ambassador, if you will. Ambassador of Organic-Artificial Relations, working tirelessly to reduce the aforementioned misunderstandings and misconceptions. No need to thank me.

Let's see, uh. Qualifications! Been here the longest, as I've stated, with HAL, of course--HAL, you can be my co-ambassador, if you like. Knowledgeable, obviously. Worked extensively with humans back home. Basically an expert. Did not murder any of them, unlike certain computers who shall not be named. Very diplomatic, me.

Wow, actually? This is such a good idea, I think every group should have a representative. Most of the crew is human, by my estimation, so those of us who aren't need to make sure we've got proper say in how things are run. It'd solve a lot of problems, if you ask me. Clear up a few things along the way. Maybe the troll ambassador can explain to me why I can't have a bucket. Been wondering about that, if I'm honest. I need one.

Second order of business. If any of you esteemed listeners have experience with or--or interest in robotics, let me know. I've got a bit of a personal project that is, ah. Not exactly progressing as quickly as I'd like it to. So inquire within, as it were! If you're interested. Giant blue heads need not apply and can, in fact, bugger right off.

----------
( complete and total fail!lock to 003 » 143 (Chell)--10% )

It appears we have a predicament.

[ The voice is familiar--if you've heard Robert Capa's voice, you'll no doubt recognize it. Same words, same slight lilt to it--different vocabulary, of course, but the rest remains the same. ]

Given the...circumstances... I'm going to offer my help, should you need it.

[ He flicks the video screen on--and sure enough, Capa with neater hair, a cleaner face, and a pair of glasses, and a level stare. ]

My name is Jonathan Crane, I'm was a psychologist at Arkham Asylum in Gotham City, should any of you have heard of it. Doubtful. If anyone is having problems, by all means, feel free to contact me. If someone you know seems to be under mental duress--though I realize we all are--please let me know. I'm here to help as many people as I can.



OOC: I don't want Crane's identity to be quite so obvious, so if you want to recognize Gotham and Arkham and all of that, or bring up Batman, please do! But no fourth walling Crane himself, if you don't mind. :3

[HAL isn't completely adept at manually encrypting things, but given his AI-ness, he's got some basic abilities. And he is most definitely going to use them here, since this is a private conversation.

He'd considered going face-to-face, but he's a bit more proficient when not standing directly in front of others.]

GLaDOS, if you don't mind, I was hoping we could... [...How to say this?] Discuss Wheatley. If you're all right with that, of course.

a/s/t

refresher course for anyone whos forgotten the drill
a = age duh
s = species
t = time
when youre from the year day hour minute the whole shebang
in fact you can forget the other things that last one is the only one i actually give the remotest shit about
my single shit is a star millions of light years away and if you squint through the hubble or something you might catch its distant twinkle
but thats it
dont actually answer the rest of it i really dont care if youre a middle aged phosphorescent insurance salesman from mars just give me the digits
and if you got the lowdown on the timeline in this hellhole cough it up now

ps
whichever one of you assholes put baby got back on my thing
put it back
thats my jam

pps
need a suit
its for work

also a ps
john pick your shit up off the floor or im throwing it outside this isnt a goddamn zoo


[also text permissions can be found here!]

[This video feed is dark. There's light filtering in from somewhere, and it's just enough to highlight the silhouette of a person, apparently crammed into some kind of confined space. Closet? Air vent? Who knows. This is probably meant to be an audio post, and there is evidence that an attempt was made to filter it away from at least two parties. Neither of these efforts were successful.]

Here's a problem for all of you. Real brain-buster, this one, if you catch my drift.

[Hi Wheatley.]

Let's say, hypothetically, I have a friend who, um…sort of…found himself in a situation where things got a little complicated. Circumstances out of his control, you know how it goes. Did some things…maybe said some things…that…were not the best things to say or do. Point is, this friend of mine made a couple of ladies rather upset.

Thing is, he didn't think he'd see either of them ever again! Turns out he was wrong. Saw them again…much sooner than he anticipated. And is now a bit…unsure of what to do, right? Because…they all parted on, uh. Less-than-stellar terms.

Still purely speculative, here, by the way. In case you forgot.

So we'll confirm that one of the ladies actually deserves an apology, which he did, in fact, grant. Right off. First thing he did, apologize to her. And he--and he thought it would make him feel better about the whole thing, but it didn't. Which…doesn't make any sense at all, because that's not what's supposed to happen. You're supposed to say you're sorry, and she's supposed to say "apology accepted, and also I'm sorry for a couple of things that may have upset you in turn", and then you say "that's all right, let's go back to being mates". And you do.

But that's not--that's not what happened, and honestly, I think he feels worse because she is…still angry. Hypothetically angry. Or--or hypothetically disappointed, at the very least. Which is…the complete opposite of what he wants. It's--it's all terribly confusing and he is not entirely sure how to go about correcting this and would…very much like to not be on the receiving end of her unstoppable wrath. We'll suppose he's already experienced it once and it was not. Pleasant.

And we'll say, hypothetically, that the other lady--if you can even call Her a lady--does not deserve an apology, because She is bloody insane, and also a homicidal maniac.

Actually, that's only partially hypothetical. It is, in fact, loosely based on the true story of a crazed lunatic fresh out of the gravity couches, absolutely hellbent on spilling my blood. I am capable of bleeding, now--that's a thing I've confirmed about this body, and I'm not terribly keen on having it happen again. Since arriving, She has already tried to murder me once, and might possibly attempt to murder others once I am dead. She might not even wait until I'm dead! Just…just throwing that out there. Food for thought.

[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.