Uh. Okay.

As far as I can tell, Pete, Mitsuki and Fi aren't here any more. So I hope if any of you lot knew 'em, you made them feel appreciated while they were here.

( Her tone is vitriol and anger, and frustration because she knows she didn't. If there's anyone she can be counted on to let down, it's Fiona Maxwell. And now she's gone. )

And if you didn't know 'em, then you missed out. They were good bloody people. All right?

Are there any other Australians here, or am I just special, again?

( She's angry, maybe unreasonable, she knows it. But seriously, fuck all you guys. And by that she means The Initiative. )

Shit.


( well, that cheeriness interlude was nice while it lasted )

( Audio picks up the sound of industrial construction, either things familiar in woodshop, car garages, or anywhere of a similar sort. When the feed goes live, Collette is framed to one side, looking forward and away from the camera.  She's clearly resting on her arms, and given the angle of the ground on the screen, she's probably lying on her stomach in order to do this.  She glances over her shoulder, eyes going to something behind the tablet being used for recording, then smiles as her eyes drop down to the tablet itself.  For all intents and purposes, the camera is positioned to make the viewing audience seem like they're side by side with Collette, wherever it is she is, keeping a low profile in this industrialized looking area.  Concrete floor that she's resting on, packing boxes ahead of her, bundles of cables and chains glimpsed somewhere past her head. )

Guys!  ( She keeps her voice low, not a whisper (they carry further, and can't be heard about the ambient noise), but low to avoid excessive attention. )  Anyone else catch where they dragged the ship off to with that giant crane after the crash? I wondered about that. But I've got news!

( She makes a waving motion at the camera, and it shifts, jarringly, to leave Collette off screen and show something covered in plastic and wiring and cables, a few Initiative workers using welding guns, others wheeling parts away or calling out shouts of questions over the sounds of construction. )

They say the spaceship's salvageable!

[There is silence and then a soft whispering female voice, clearly making notes to herself.]

..nd, through a series of small, reversible changes, making it completely unmaintainable by anyone except yourself

[Suddenly there is a blood curdling scream followed by a loud boom as if something has exploded. The voice post suddenly gains video footage of rolling material before it is momentarily covered. There is a dizzying shifting of the camera as the phone is drawn out of the bed sheets and held up for inspection by the user. Then the swearing of a male voice starts as the lights go on in the room.]

Gotta be fucking kidding me! Piece of shit! What asshole... fuck!

[The camera lights on a very naked man as he stumbles across to a wall of the bedroom that is clearly blown out based on the hole in it and the drywall plaster in bits on the floor. The man in question stumbles to the wall, clearly previously asleep as the cursing continues in a long string of a volatile tirade. His prosthetic leg is obvious even in the dark as the light of the camera glints off the metallic rings that adheres it to his mid-thigh. His two-tone hair is messed up and his tattoos are clear on his skin as he turns around, given a full frontal of his nudity. Thankfully there are some shadows in the room that the camera doesn't pierce.]

Fucking shit... what was screaming? You've got to be shitting me... you're recording this?

My apologies, Jake-sama. It was an automatic reaction.

[Kriem's tone suggests otherwise. The scream may have startled her, but how long has it been since she'd seen her handsome boyfriend be surprised like that? It is an opportunity she couldn't pass up!]

Fuck you, Kriem. Turn that goddamn thing off. You're showing off my assets here, and I haven't put my make-up on.

[His voice is slightly mocking at the end, as if there's some teasing from an earlier event in their lives. He looks around again before stomping back to the bed and lays down. Then there's a snort of laughter before two voices are chuckling and the video shuts off.]

[with all of the recent chaos in Exsilium, the calming silence that begins Nageki's audio post is almost absurdly unfitting of the atmosphere. that doesn't appear to be fazing him at all, however, at least not noticeably while he speaks in an idle and dull tone that sounds more like someone talking to themselves than anything -- which, admittedly, he is more used to than actual conversation. so it isn't nearly as weird to him to think of it that way, instead of allowing himself to consider the fact that he's divulging his thoughts to just anybody who happens to listen.

how do people do that so frequently, like it means nothing? it's unsettling, but he tries not to think about it while he speaks, quiet and slow like he's only half paying attention to his audience.]

The fantasy of flight has captured the imagination of the human race for several millennia. They've given their deities magnificent wings to show off their prowess, created myths of man's inventions, with the tale of Icarus and Daedalus...

[there's a faint sound of a page turning, his train of thought trailing until he sighs nearly inaudibly before he continues.]

And, finally, driven themselves to build technology that brings them as airborne as will ever be possible. What is it about flying that appeals to humans so much, I wonder? Is it the desire for something they cannot have that inspires their kind, or are they motivated out of desperation to believe that they are free?

[his voice turns more blunt, maybe almost somewhat bitter in a bland sort of way.]

Flight bringing freedom to the flyer is an astounding illusion. [turn page.] There's nothing special about something another species does solely for the purpose of survival.

...In the end, flying is just another unremarkable biological function. That's all there is to it.

[read: somebbody misses flying but he can't say that because that's not cool and edgy!!]

[ The video feed turns onto Medusa in her new apartment - expression serious before she begins to speak. ]

Greetings Exsilium. For those of you who do not know me, I am Queen Medusalith Amaquelin-Boltagon, and from this point forward I will be acting as a direct liaison between the Initiative and Transports. While previously discussed, my appointment now is in part due to the actions of those individuals who procured the space ship and the request for more transparency and warning of upcoming events from the Initiative.

My job, as it stands, is to make sure everyone is informed about upcoming missions and other news with ample time to prepare, rather than the hurried explanations that we are all familiar with at this point. Which is what brings me here before you now.

[ She straightens even further, hair spreading out to cover the rest of the screen that isn't taken up by her body. ]

Recently the Initiative has been working on technology to return those who are unwilling or unable to fight back to the universe of our origin. But it is new and unrefined, and the possible consequences include permanent relocation to a world not your own.

Which is why the Initiative requires a volunteer to return to his or her own universe. The portal will be unstable - it may not open to the correct universe or remain open for long. They also seek a small number of people to go as a security team to protect both the individual who's world you have hopefully traveled to and a number of Initiative members sent to examine the situation.

Again, I must stress that there is no accounting for the dangers one might face, and the consequences it may have for you, your universe, or the team that the Initiative will send with. Do not volunteer if you are hesitant or unprepared to deal with said consequences; however, if you have questions, I will do my utmost to answer them.

Furthermore, if there are any among you who wish to aid me as a liaison, please inform me at your earliest convenience.

Thank you.

( ooc|| Signups are still open and can be found here as well as ooc information! )

[Kara's casually draped at her table, nursing a beer, smoking a stogie. Thank the gods for those base creature comforts. Still, she looks a little bored at the moment. Because there is one thing lacking in her life. Well many things, but at the moment, it's the lack of card night. Hope her roomies don't mind some company because she's about to invite everyone over, more or less.]

You know what this place needs? Card night.

[Seriously, she misses wiping the floor with the other folks on Galactica and feeding her gambling habit.]

Anyone else around here even play, other than Remy? We can't be the only ones around here, am I right?