Guess while everyone else is admitting to things, I might as well do the same.

[ He sighs, once again unprepared for giving "speeches"; taking to large groups of people about important things. ] When I first spoke up on the network, I mentioned something about being hunted by the government. It's because back home a classified branch of Homeland Security knows about people like me. People with abilities. And they're trying to move us all somewhere else because we're dangerous. And then some of us are supposed to be shot to kill on sight.

[ 'Some of us' meaning him. But he's not here to complain about that. After another second, he continues. ]

Figured I might as well tell everyone what I can do. My ability is being able to... well, mimic other peoples. I don't know how it works when it comes to people from other worlds, I just know how it works with people from mine. I don't take anyone's ability -- steal it, I mean. It's just replication. I can do what anyone else can, but I have to make some kind of physical contact first. Soon as I touch someone else, the one I had before is gone.

It's happened accidentally before -- picking up someone else's ability. Probably because I can't-- [ he hesitates, somewhat strained ] I can't control it the way I used to be able to. Can't always control the abilities I pick up, either. [ And that's also a story for another day, but he's leaving himself open for questions. ]

But right now? I can fly. Not exactly the most useful ability to have on a spaceship, believe me, I know. But it had its uses back home.

[ And after an awkward glance off screen, he ends the feed. ]

[see Chell

see Chell sitting on her bed in her underwear, with a solved Rubik's cube in hand.

see Chell vaguely grinning in a really creepy, somewhat uncharacteristically manner.]

Found my voice, guess I should tell you the truth.

[SHE'S SPEAKING A LOT BETTER THAN LAST TIME. and the camera's angled in a manner where you can barely tell that her eyes are pitch black.]

There was once a woman who only wanted her freedom, and there were two AIs who just wanted to watch her test all day. Then, that Lady rebelled, she wanted to have a life outside of a facility, she wanted nothing to do with science and neurotoxin and Itches and turrets and buttons. And that's when these AIs wanted her dead. One of them's gone back to where She belongs, the other one's still here. You might know him.

[her voice lowers into something more sinister sounding, as though trying to mimic someone else's voice. she turns the Rubik's cube over in her hands, staring at it absentmindedly.]

He's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the dumbest moron who ever lived.

And you have him on your ship, making whoever listen to his ideas morons themselves.

Don't feel bad, it's not your fault. That's what he was designed for.

[her voice go back to whatever her normal voice is, and she looks at the camera now, eyes flickering]

So Wheatley, why don't you tell everyone how you tried to murder me after I helped you. How you promised me my freedom and turned on me once you got a taste of all that power. How you almost destroyed the entire facility thanks to your stupidity. How your apologies mean nothing because you deserved to be tossed out into space, and that if given the chance you'd probably do it all over again.

Oh, and how does it feel being the one thing you always hated? Human. One of the smelliest humans on the ship, might I add.

[she purses her lips THIS IS REALLY UNCHARACTERISTIC OF HER in case the extreme amounts of talking aren't obvious enough. she looks off-camera again, still turning the cube in her hands.]

And it's Chell, by the way. Not that you deserve to know.

[The video starts with a blurred shot of a corridor ceiling, dark, though there's light coming from somewhere nearby. There's a moment of the device being fumbled before it swings down, revealing a very tired and scared looking woman. Her voice reflects much the same, strained with desperation, wavering.]

Hello? Hello? I think -- god, I hope -- this thing is some kind of phone.

If there's anyone there, anyone can hear me, please help. I don't know where I am. There was a voice, I followed it, but -- I guess I wasn't listening. [She drops to a whisper, berating.] Typical, Amanda.

[Quiet for a moment, frowning, but then she takes a breath. Gathering herself again, trying to sound certain, give a clear and steady summary of her situation.]

I'm lost. Everything looks the same, I feel like I've been walking for days-- [She's going off on a trail again. She stops herself.] Jesus.

[There's nothing more to say, is there? She lets her head fall back against the wall behind her, lifting a hand to press against her forehead, like she's trying not to cry.]

Is there anyone there? Please?


[ooc: another OC for the demon plot here, pulling her favourite demon damsel in distress routine to get all the altruistic and heroic types to come out of the woodwork. She has a taste for anger and wrath, and vengeance is her favourite. There's a brief blurb on her profile, for more information.]

[ The video turns on to show a woman, her brunette hair still damp, curling strands beginning to fall over her face.

She doesn't look scared but her brows knit closer together, as she gives the device in her hand a look of confusion, mixed with subtle awe; an attempt to make sense of all of this. ]

A ship?...I don't understand. [ She speaks. At first it's a mutter, her French accent subtle, but noticeable. It's not that she does not understand where she is; it almost sounds a bit deeper-- a lack of understanding as to why she was here, rather than anything else. She's looking around, then casts a glance to her arm and the new, unwanted tattoo there.

It's probably a play of the shadows, but her shoulders give a single, small quiver before she swallows, straightens, as the sound of a door sliding open can be heard; she averts her gaze form the screen, into her new 'quarters'. ] Dom?

[ A blink; a beat. ] This is not the reality i was meant to wake up to.

[ Though he's been here for almost a month, Erik deliberately hasn't made a public comment, preferring to speak to almost everyone else first and foremost in order to assess the situation ahead of himself, and most importantly, come to terms with the fact that this is not Earth. He'd been mulling over what Kirk had said, as one of the earlier people he had spoken to, particularly the statement that things were different than what he was accustomed to. It's a considerable break from reality, because where Erik last stood was watching the world fall apart as he and several others had essentially outed themselves to the public, and earned a response he had correctly predicted. At least here, several years in the future if what he had learned was anything to go by, there was the possibility that Charles had proven him wrong; an admission he wasn't inclined to concede so early on.

Answers however, were slowly provided, and Erik was forced into a position where he had little choice but to re-evaluate a stance he had sworn by for several years. It was a defeat that had put him at odds with himself, having been forced to interact with not just non-humans like himself, but also humans. They were mere temporary allies, associates at best, until Erik had derived what he needed, piecing together a shaky network that merely served to relay information back and forth for his own means. To either deny the seeming equality that appeared on board, or to deliberately instigate what wasn't there and accept that there would be a conflict. ]

For those of you whom I haven't spoken to, my name is Magneto. [ His voice comes slightly off camera, as all that's deliberately being shown is the side of his jaw, the device loosely held in his palm while Erik processes his next move, tone clipped and to the point. ] It's fruitless at this point to deny one of the differences between many aboard the Tranquility; that there are both humans and non-humans here.

As one of the latter, [ Hope you're hearing that Raven, because Erik just outed himself. ] I intend on making it clear that while we're held captive together, I will not tolerate any exercise of dominance over non-humans. [ Admitting this on Erik's part is a cost because it conflicts with his own stance on how he sees society, one he's finally conceded will not change despite convincing; Charles couldn't do it, the others won't either. ]

That being said, [ Erik lets the device leave the comfort of his hand with only the slightest curl of a finger, raising it until its level directly with his face; just the barest hint of confirmation he needs. Lips curling into a smile, it's evident Erik can do more than just that, but he doesn't intend on letting it all come out immediately ] I'm inclined to put forth what effort it takes to ensure that all of us get out. [ A concession Erik has to make, that some sacrifices are necessary for the greater good, because while mutant superiority is likely to prevail, it takes a back seat to the situation at hand. ]

How many of you are willing to do the same? [ With that, he shuts off the feed, frowning slightly. ]

Private | Spock [40%]:

If you have time, I would like to speak to you in person. [ Vague enough, because Erik's ability to encrypt is absolutely terrible and he doesn't trust it to actually succeed. ]

Wow, so. In the last month we had evil corridors -- never been so glad to not be able to move real well, let me tell you; first time there's been an upside to being a cripple -- and a mutiny and now we've got little girls talking about putting guys out airlocks.

[he palms his face, sitting back in the cockpit where happily hides from and ignores most people, down here in the shuttle bay]

So -- just as a voice for sanity?

This isn't a military vessel, and even if it wasn't, even on an Alliance military vessel? We don't even space rapists and murderers, let alone lone mutineers. Just sayin'.

Also, last I checked, that Megamind guy was the only engineer on the roster that hadn't been eaten by the grav-couches, which means the little shit might still be useful to us, since the only other one is Resnik. Which sucks, because one of those engineers that's gone was Tali, and she was pretty hot stuff back home, and we could seriously have used her here, man.

Speaking of Resnik, has anyone heard a peep out of our illustrious leaders? Not the ones who are totally trying to organize our lame asses, which is cool and all [hint; his tone indicates this is not cool and he places no faith in you guys, at all-- but thenm Joker always sounds like that, even when he's talking to Shepard], but I mean the ones who actually were here first? Or were those bodies in that mystery room their bodies? That'd be important to know. Anybody give 'em a call, saunter down to the bridge, maybe ask 'em for a cup of sugar? Anything? Nobody?

Right.

[Greetings, everyone! This is Captain Jack Sparrow. Perhaps you've seen him around?

Once he recognizes that he's turned the feed on, he points a finger at the screen, raising his eyebrows expectantly at you. He also might be just a bit drunk, judging by the bottle of rum in his hand.]

Right. So, there's been an awful lot of talk goin' on lately, and not a lot of doin'. S' tell me.

[He spreads his arms to the side.]

Is anyone actually plannin' on doing anything? Or are we gonna sit here and talk till we up and disappear like everyone else? Cause, let me tell you, mate. Talkin' ain't gonna get us nowhere. Never has, never will. And I ain't about t'sit around like a damsel until me unlikely demise. Again.

I say, If we're gonna do something about it, we all get together an' do something.

Savvy?

[Saphir adjusts the video, rather fussed with finding a good angle. Wouldn't do for the unwashed masses to see him looking less than radiant, and the jumpsuit isn't helping matters.]

Well, hello indeed, you absentminded riffraff! It would seem fate has smiled upon you, for you have been graced with the presence of the resplendent genius, Dr. Saphir Ortion Gneiss, or as my friends and colleagues tend to address me - a sign of their utmost humility and respect - Dist the Rose.

[Somewhere between overly pleased with himself and unnerved by the situation, he belts out an uncomfortably long laugh, bordering on maniacal.]

Naturally an engineer of my superior intellect will be of use, though it seems your technology is fundamentally different from the sort I am used to - a very minor setback, I assure you! Infinitesimal, really. In fact, it's much more fascinating than it is off-putting. The mind of a virtuoso thrives on a good challenge, after all.

[He tries his best, but looks less than convinced of the veracity of his own claims. A clearing of the throat and a hair flick later, he's back to haughty and agitating beyond belief.]

The point is, you unhelpful gits haven't been particularly forthcoming, and it would do you well to quit withholding information from those who actually have the wherewithal to make use of it.

[He folds his hands in a businesslike manner and leans toward the camera.]

So tell me about your technology, get to it!!!

[When Ianto appears on screen, it should be apparent to anyone who's familiar with the recent rash of attack victims that he's the latest. He's slumped against the wall, looking much the worse for wear, with an expression on his face that speaks of imminent panic.]

Has anyone seen Jack Harkness? I was attacked, and he-- [He has to pause, his voice failing him momentarily. He's too weak to be expending this much energy worrying.] He was right down the hall. He would have come looking for me, but he isn't here and he isn't responding.

Jack, if you're seeing this, please, please respond.

[He slides further down the wall, exhausted, and winces as the fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against the wound on his chest.]

I suppose I'm late when it comes to actually introducing myself to the new people, but late is better than never, isn't it?

[He shifts a little bit, adjusting his glasses and managing a polite smile at the camera. Good grief.]

I'm Kabuto Yakushi, I haven't been here as long as others, but I trust that won't make anything I say less valuable. With the departure of the former head of Xenobioloy and Genetics, I believe that would leave me in temporary charge of that department until something permanent is figured out. So, if you have any questions about what we do, what we may be planning on doing, feel free to contact me. Particularly if you're interested in getting involved with the department.

Which, speaking of, I'd rather like to speak to the head of the medical group to see if something can be figured out in regards to sharing resources.

Also, if you can't move to the medbay for whatever reason, feel free to contact me as well. I was a medic back where I come from and since I don't need equipment in order to diagnose and heal, it'd be far more efficient for me to come to you.

[Hm, is that all he needs to say... Well.]

Any questions about the former subjects can be directed to me and I will reply to them as soon as possible.

[ Aberdeen knows she's not the kind of person who people will notice is gone if something is ever to happen to her. It's a symptom of being something of a recluse and of living her life behind her laptop, tucked away and listening and watching to the other people around her. Which means that something like an automatic distress beacon is necessary, given her line of work as an operative. Every hour on the hour, she deactivates it, only for it to reactivate automatically. If something happens to her, if she doesn't switch the program off, it alerts important parties of her seeming disappearance. While on the Tranquility that is the Network at large.

Which why her communications device posts right now: ]


A L E R T _

communications device_designation.aberdeen
status_currently.inactive
time elapsed since last access_02.45hr

action required_locate
note_additional assistance most likely required.


[ ooc note; This is basically an open post for people to get their communications on in relation to this event. SO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO RESPOND to this post but mostly to each other since Aberdeen isn't going to be saying much of anything. Aberdeen, in search of her cat who scurried away and out of her quarters, managed to get hit and fed off of by Todd, and so is lying somewhere — inert and passed out and very much chest-wounded in one of the distant and unused common rooms. Go searching, track her communicator, whatevs.  Somebody please feel free to find her and bring her to the Medbay!

Any questions about Aberdeen specifically, feel free to plurk be about it. ]

[ The communications device is placed haphazardly. Perhaps on a shelf, but regardless the orientation makes it so that video is tilted in a less than pleasing manner. Sherlock and John are both in frame; entirely unaware that the video has them both captured. Sherlock is all jitters and small animations of tension. From the rhythmic taps of fingers to the trouser end of the jumpsuit to the quick paces back and forth in the gaps between John and Sherlock’s bed. ]

I was hoping for more concrete advice. [ A hint of seething; irritation; perhaps desperation. ] I was under the presumption that you had added space into your repertoire, John Three Continents Watson. [ More pacing; his expression turns legitimately confused ] Help me.

[ John sighs - he’s never living down that particular disclosure of information, is he? He rubs at his brow with his thumb, though his eyes follow Sherlock for some of the walk. The communicator in his own hands seems to have been forgotten for the moment. ]

What are you on about? Advice? What are you trying to do now?

I’m not helping you sweet-talk any more women into stealing you things.


( cut due to length. )

[[ OOC: HI GUYS FEEL FREE TO SPAM THIS POST WITH INAPPROPRIATE TERRIBLE DATING ADVICE FOR THE CONSULTING DETECTIVE. THIS GRATUITOUS DISPLAY OF BROMANCE HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY JULYA AND EFFY: BROMANTIC PRODUCTIONS. BLUE IS SHERLOCK, BROWN IS JOHN :D ]]

Hey!

[There is a pause at this point. He's feeling awkward and looking awkward as well. He's also looking somewhat naked, though it might just be the lack of collar. (No, he's just wearing underwear and a pair of boots but is otherwise fairly naked, 'cause...)] Uh...does anyone here know how to sew?

My... [What noun could describe the skin tight things they have to wear?] ...clothes didn't exactly come with a tailhole. The only thing I have to cut one with are these. [And at this point he holds up a Mage Masher: elegant weapon of doom, thiefy pointy object of choice, crappy for delicate work.]