[ the device is resting on a table, a distance from anderson and jax — far enough that both of them are in the picture. anderson’s posture is, as usual, straight; a soldier at ease. jax is slouching, flicking his lighter open and closed. he has a cigarette behind his ear but he doesn’t reach for it. he clears his throat, expectant, nudges her with his elbow. ]

Gonna talk to the good people, Pollyanna?

[ if the video wasn’t already on, anderson would comment on the use of the nickname in what is, essentially, a public service announcement. as it is, she just raises an eyebrow at him before turning back towards the device. ] We realise that the last jump was unpleasant for many of us. Sickness aside, however, our position is no less vulnerable now than it was before.

We asked before, but for those of you who are new, or those who missed it last time: Gunnery is responsible for the defense of the ship — which, regardless of how you may feel about it, is your current place of residence — against attacks, as well as for the maintenance of the armory. We offer weapons training, and I offer self-defense lessons as well.

You get your sea legs under you, you come down, talk to either of us. Can usually find one or the other kicking around Gunnery at any hour, and we don’t mind visitiors if you aren’t acting like an idiot.

[ after a moment to let that sink in, anderson reaches out and turns the device off. ]


[ red is jax, black is anderson.

ps please have a look at ataraxiongunnery if you're so inclined. pps theself-defense log is here, feel free to wander by ]

[The image on screen screams witch. And old woman with grey hair in a stern bun. Dressed in black. Including her hat. Her pointy hat. She also doesn't look terribly pleased, though anyone who has been on the ship long enough is probably used to that.]

Seems we get more 'n' more magic usin' folk every jump. Likely start trippin' over each other if we ain't careful.

Never really held much with covens and the like. But they got their uses fer keepin' track of what everyone else is doin'.

[By which she of course means she can keep track of everyone else's business.]

Worth gettin' together with tea and the like. Make sure there ain't cross spells goin' that'll tear a hole in everythin'.

[As per usual, 'to the point' is the name of the game:]

Scuttlebutt travels fast so I'm not going to bother with the 'Good news, everyone, we're all alive' part, but I will follow up on my previous report. Fifteen minutes prior to the jump, the doors on the bridge opened on their own and the words 'time to go' in red appeared over the door. From what I can determine, the message was apparently visible to all sixteen people present at the time.

I can't say if Smiley was responsible for sealing us on the bridge in the first place, but I suspect it was involved with getting us out. If the hallucinations are something triggered by the nanotech [--because that seems more likely than everyone going the same kind of crazy at the same time, current anomalies included--], it seems like a given that the two are somehow networked. I can't speak for everyone else, but the appearance of the writing was consistent with some of the other things I saw while on the bridge.

[A beat.]

If anyone has additional information on Smiley that isn't readily available on the comm, I'd appreciate a debrief.

[The feed clicks on just in time to show Thane placing down the comm-device, which was propped on something from behind. The Drell was sitting at a table under the sterile glare of a light, his guns glittering in in front of him.

The sniper rifle was more or less in one piece, but the submachine gun had been taken apart. Thane was inspecting the pieces, cleaning them with an off-white cloth as he spoke.]

This message is directed primarily towards the ship's medical staff. I have been informed that re-entry into the stasis pods is more or less inevitable, assuming I'd like to keep safe and alive.

I would. However, the first time I exited, I experienced difficulty in keeping my focus on present happenings. Drell slip so easily into memory, though it is not something I commonly have issue with.

[By now he's pieced together the machine gun, and takes a moment to glance at the camera before beginning to disassemble the rifle.]

I would like to request that a member of the medical staff be present for roughly twenty four hours after my second experience within the stasis pods. I am not certain if I will again slip into solipsism, but in the case that I do, I would like to be prepared.

Likely, I will need help to my room. Perhaps the company will help me focus on the present.

I am unsure what I can offer s compensation, though that can be discussed.

Thank you.

[Placing down the pieces of his rifle mid-clean, Thane reaches towards the comm-device, and the feed cuts off.]

Hey.

[and here's your favourite blonde shit disturber, Tranquility. he's playing the part of possibly-humiliated-teenager, and he's doing it well, all while wearing a Nirvana t-shirt.]

I wanted to say I'm sorry about what I said before, about that alien or whatever. I guess that was kind of a dick move, I was just surprised, you know? But I mean we've seriously got bigger things to worry about. I didn't realize space could be so dangerous outside of crushing space jumps and goo-sickness. [give Tate something terrifying and he'll poke at the wound, Carolyn, i hope you're proud.]

Not that we shouldn't be taking screaming ships and black holes and solar flares lightly but... I was wondering if anyone would maybe- lend me a book or something. I mean the library they've got here is great but I'm a little more old fashioned. [he pulls a face, like he knows how weird that sounds.] Or some music? But not that- club stuff that those guys play in whatever you're calling that dance joint. I'm talking some serious music. Like, Smashing Pumpkins and Kurt Cobain. Trent Reznor. Shit like that.

[a beat.]

I don't really have anything to trade but I dunno, I could figure something out. [he does have a bag of weed, still, but he's not going to offer that up freely lololol]

( OOC Stuff :3 )

This is... ah, unfortunate
That is... it reflects badly on those that trained me that I must resort to this
Regardless
The after effects of the "jump" are effecting me strangely
In short I cannot strongly grip what is real
At the moment
Usually I don't struggle at all with solipsism
Hm
Could someone please come find me
I cannot lift my gun
Thanks and apologies,
Krios.

[End recording.]

[ The video snaps on to a blur and a big hand holding it out at arm's length, and at the end of that arm is one John Casey with a certain ship's geek - Chuck Bartowski - headlocked under the other. He finds something to put the viewer on so that he can draw his gun - a silver on black SIG Sauer P226 - out of its holster, placing it against Chuck's neck, and growls under his breath at him. ]

Stop squirming so much, Bartowski, otherwise I really will end up shooting you, and it's no fun if I do it accidentally.

[ Chuck had never liked being held at gunpoint, but it's not as if this was the first time this had ever happened over the years, which was only one reason why he looked so calm about this. The only thing that made it any different than usual was being put on film while doing so and Chuck elbowed at the other man, squirming anyway. ]

Look, Casey, I really think there are better ways to deal with this than threatening to kill me, and it's not even gonna get you out of here. Now if you would just put the gun down…

[ A fierce grunt of disgust cut Chuck off mid-sentence, Casey narrowing his eyes at his friend, only to turn that same withering look on the camera. ]

I'll put the gun down when I'm good and ready. Listen up, whoever you are; I don't care if you're aliens or Communists, but I suggest you find a way to get me back to Burbank, otherwise I can't be held responsible for what I might do. [ And he might just be squeezing Chuck's neck a little bit harder between his forearm and bicep to illustrate his point. In response, Chuck makes a wheezing sort of noise, stopping his shoving at Casey so he doesn't end up turning blue before too long. ]

Nobody has to worry about Casey, he's not actually gonna hurt me, I promise. He's a friend from back home, he's just a little trigger happy, you can ignore him. Right now, I mean. Not any other time. [ a beat ] You really might not want to ignore him any other time.

[ This time Casey reaches out his gun hand to take the device back, and as it spins before it goes off his voice is audible over the feed; a deep gutteral growl: ]

Idiot, Bartowski, now we have to start over, and maybe this time I will shoot you just to prove I mean it. How do you record over-- [ The feed cuts.]

[wow yeah a voice post from this comm. rare, i know. except...the voice doesn't exactly sound human.]

Hello?

Is anyone there?

I'm different.

[there's a few minutes of silence following that. and then...]

The box has been opened. The Titans walk among us.

[The feed clicks onto to show someone who is most certainly not human. Thane sets the device down on the desk and sits back, and the observant might notice a small faintly glowing holo in his hand. It depicts a human child with a dirty face, and a tooth missing from his wide grin.

For a few long moments Thane says nothing at all, and taps the holo against his knee.]

I could believe my appearance here truly an accident, however the contents of my locker give me pause. How is it a glitch in space-- perhaps a Mass Relay malfunction?- would result in not only my misplacement, but that of a select number of my things? Why only a small portion of my gun collection? Why not my prefured clothing? Why this holo? It's... it isn't logical.

[Seeming to get a hold of himself a little better, now...]

It is not impossible, but highly unlikely.

[Thane seems to then realize he's still holding the holo, and gives it a long look before tucking it neatly into the breast pocket of his uniform.]

I have no illusions; I do not imagine I am the only one with responsibilities to attend at home, nevertheless my appearance here is... troubling. There will be unfortunate fallout if I am away too long.

[His eyes drop briefly.]

To the point of my communication, then; I am a new arrival and would appreciate being informed (to the best of anyone's ability) of what is happening. I apologize in advance if I am forcing anyone to repeat themselves. Thank you.

[End feed.]