[VIDEO]

[bitcher]

[a mild, plain-looking face shows up on the screen, blue eyes tired but vaguely surprised as they look down at the screen.]

Well, would you look at that. Doesn't that just beats the shit out the old Macintosh. Not to mention chat rooms. And telephones, for that matter. At least, if I'm actually talking to people? [a quick, toothy smile and a fake little wave] Heya. Tobias Beecher, nice to meet you.

[he looks ready to lose it then, like a sudden bout of laughter's just going to erupt. It passes, and he says mildly:] So, Exsilium, huh? Doesn't exactly have the same fun fairytale ring to it as "Oz" or "Emerald City", but I guess you guys make up for it with all that "alternate universe" and "sentient weapons" crap. Mine hasn't started talking to me yet, but hey, maybe it's only a matter of time! [Beecher wiggles what looks like a bed-spring at the camera, although one end of it has been unwound and sharpened to a point.

He plays with it a bit as he continues, sounding awfully cheery, and awfully fake] So if I've got all this straight, I've been taken somewhere I can't leave, and I don't really have a choice about it, and I've been provided with a bed and the basic creature comforts and we're all expected to get along together all nice and civilized like. Now, gee, what sort of place does that remind me of...?

[Beecher tilts his head, his voice a sort of sing-song:]

Mary had a pretty bird,
Feathers bright and yellow,
Slender legs, upon my word!
He was a pretty fellow.

The sweetest notes he always sang,
Which much delighted Mary;
And near the cage she'd ever sit
To hear her own canary.

[there's a pause where Beecher gives a breathy chuckle, pleased with himself. Then,] ...You know, I'm... well, I was, supposed to be up for parole soon. So - what passes for a parole board in this shiny new shithole? [Beecher's lips twitch into a grin, blue eyes lit, and he titters into his hand. It's unstable, odd, a freak gurgle. It loses momentum. Beecher's expression cools, becomes pensive, and he ends the feed.]

Comments

[bitcher]

That's certainly where most good intentions end up. Proving themselves false.

...So. Any idea what we're supposed to be trapped on a moon base?

[alittlesweptup]

So far as I know, the base is falling apart at the seams. People're running missions to bang the place back into working order so we don't get unexpectedly vented into space, but beyond that? No idea what anyone's plan is. If I were you, I wouldn't expect to see anyone agreeing on anything.

[A beat, then more than a little clipped:] I'd make bets on being here a while.

[bitcher]

Isn't that great to hear. [excuse him while he rubs at his face. Missions, huh? Someone had mentioned those. He'll just be staying far away from those, thanks.]

Is there anyone in charge here? Like, actually in charge? These Initiative guys seem like they couldn't find their own dicks with two hands and a flashlight.

[alittlesweptup]

[Oh, that gets a proper laugh out of him. Wouldn't that be nice?]

Before I'd've told you to take that up with the Iniative-Transport Relations people and wish you all the best with getting anything useful out of that lot. Now? Eh.

[Helpful.]

[bitcher]

[So helpful, Cutter. :|]

Well there's something I didn't think I'd miss from Oz.

[alittlesweptup]

[He lives to serve.]

There's pros and cons. They've been trying to organize a transport run police unit since I got here. Maybe even before.

[Spoilers: it hasn't gone well and he's not particularly fussed over it.]