[There are some things you can't run from. For Peter, he's been trying to run, but things keep coming up, keep reminding him. He went a good month of pretending that he was just a normal guy who made it out of his world alive. It was a good lie. Even for those people who knew him as Spider-Man, no one needed to know that his final moments in his life were spent saving Aunt May. They didn't need to know that he had given his all and that he was actually happy with what he managed.

But there's dying. And then there's finding out you aren't dead. There's finding out that you have a whole new life, and that somewhere, in another dimension, a "you" managed to grow up. Sue knew him. Bucky knew him. Even that grumpy Nathan guy knew a Spider-Man. And for all that, he's been trying to make it less obvious that he's surprised that he grew up. It's been hard, and he knows it'll continue.

It has to, after all. With great power and all that, and this world has bigger problems than his.

But still, he sets out to ask this question, because he knows it's better to ask now than later. He had to be careful about what thing he said to Charlie that one day. When he phrases his question, he rereads it a couple times, taking out anything that sounds too much like him. The last thing Peter needs is someone tracing it back to him.

He's not ready for those conversations.]

I've got a question, but first, please don't try to trace this back to me. If you've already done that and broken my encryption, let's just pretend you didn't. [Also, you're a jerk, but he had to cut that part out. Too ... him.]

What happens if you died before you came here? What's left for me after this all ends? Before you ask, yeah, I definitely died.

I just thought I'd ask.

[the camera shifts beneath the hands of an amateur as it's set on a flat surface. it's on a bit of an angle, but the position is acceptable. Loki skitters back eagerly, peering into the camera and then waving his hands in show. as he scoots back it's apparent some awful fashion travesty has happened, because he's wearing a terrible Christmas sweater, complete with a big bow pulled over his Asgardian robes. it goes down to his knees.]

It's been an exciting few weeks now, hasn't it? Hello again, Exsilium! I've come to give the gift of Christmas Spirit, marketing gimmicks aside, of course! [he takes a few steps backward as he faces the camera, holding a hand to his chin.] Why, what could be done to spread the cheer of the Yule holiday? With everything that's happened, it does get a bit depressing here ... right in the center of a self-defeating winter full of abominable beasts that wish for nothing more then our untimely demises. And there's still time travel to think about! And our impending existential crises! Terrible, right?

[he holds up a finger suddenly.] Yet I bring Yuletide cheer to brighten all. Surprise! Nothing so extreme as coal in socks and indefinitely kept cakes of fruit, but something more humble in its ageless practice! The ugly Christmas sweater! [he suddenly steps aside and there is a very festive looking red and green pile of awful, terrible, but very warm looking ugly Christmas sweaters. the mass has to at least be up to his shoulder, and there are all different kinds. but is where he got all these fugly knit novelties really a question that anyone wants to ask?] I'm opening requests to lend everyone some spirit! Please make them below so they can all be filled in a timely fashion, all formality, of course. No need to crowd, there's plenty for everyone. All requests can picked up promptly.

Jolly exclamations of ho ho ho and stuff!

-
UGLY YULE KNIT THREADS ADOPTION FORM
(1) Your name (or your unknowing buddy's name), of course, and the sweater you wish to adopt.
(2) Tell me of your intended sweater schemes. How will it aid you on endeavor to spread holiday cheer?
(3) Very fashion!
(4) Are you a super hero (Peter Parker)? Put your name (not Peter Parker) here!


( OOC: go ahead and pick a sweater, he has a load of them. you don't have to fill out the form or anything if you want one! just go ahead and reply however you want. obviously come put them on people who will not put them on themselves. )

[The video starts quietly, facing a silver-haired elf woman who is smiling in amusement. It seems someone has been trying to convince her of something.]

One song, Kili. I am not in the habit of making a spectacle of myself.

[There's nothing to accompany her, no instruments or sound, but she does start to sing softly and does well for having nothing to go on. Celebrían puts a lot of feeling into it, becoming more than a little bit lost in the song. Singing will always be something peaceful for her, a small escape when she needs one or a way to relax. And a reminder of singing for her young daughter, of when her boys were young and she sang for them, of when she was young and her parents sang for her.

It's a pleasant feeling, to share this with people in the midst of war. Even if she knows a lot of people probably won't appreciate it or think she's wasting her time and theirs, at least some people will smile for it. Okay so maybe Kili convincing her to sing a song isn't the worst thing he could have done.]

( cut for lyrics )

[the camera starts off upside down, before Tempest hisses out a curse and rights it. She briefly makes a face and pushes some hair out of her face - hair that is distinctly longer and a different, somewhat lighter color than the stark black it had been. Which . . . could explain why she's been MIA for the past two days, and why she looks confused at first]

Well, this is . . . hm. Odd. [she mutters just loud enough for the camera to hear] It really has been a while . . . .

Anyway, I've an offer and a request. I plan to do some hunting, so if anyone is in need of meat I would be more than willing to hunt a little extra. I am not looking to trade, though I will not say no to anyone who offers to.

As for my request, I am looking for someone familiar with . . . hm, symbols? Any kind. My thanks in advance.

So another month, another batch of poor lost souls that are wondering what did they do to deserve this fate. Kinda sucks huh? At least we're going back down, although apparently we're not in Kansas anymore.

[ Here she takes a moment to take a little breath. ]

I mean, we weren't in Kansas to begin with, but hopefully at least half of you will get the reference, or I'll be a very sad Ella. While we're on introductions though, this is Ella Ellis speaking, Doer of Things, Helper of the Needy, God of Awesome. I also make a mean mac & cheese, by the way.

[ At least she's grown comfortable talking through the tablet? Is that even a good thing? ]

Anyway, I plan to remain in the Moon Base until the twentieth or so, so if anyone around needs something done, let me know. For the new kids that means I can make most things out of thin air, and I'm being rather literal here. For the old folks, well, you either believe me by now or you don't.

[ Ella then proceeds to drum on the tablet's surface for a solid minute. ]

Oh, I almost forgot: How do you guys celebrate Christmas? Hanukkah? The equivalent I'm obviously missing? I thought it would be cool to make pines or seeds to grow and plant them somewhere, but then I realized not everyone might know about it. Then it hit me that me being me, this should probably freak me out in so many levels you don't even know, but if you don't mention the whole religious implications, I sure won't.

Anyway, I'm out of things to say. Stay safe, stay sane, and always wash your hands after using the toilet.

Ella out~

Hey everyone.

First, if anyone here knew Ed Elric, he's left us for home. He was my lab partner and friend for the last few months, and I'm going to miss him.

Second: this cold isn't exactly the best environment for plant growth, but plants are an important food group for most of us. I've brought some spectrum lamps for plant growth back from Hydroponics on the base, along with some I built myself. There should be enough to power a small indoor agriculture operation for a while, and I'm working on more with my limited supplies.

Third: I'm also working on compact heaters if any of you ended up in unheated residences. The process is slow without supplies or collaborators, but if current progress holds, five should be ready within the week.

[Rocket was pretty much convinced this was some sort of mess up. His passport must have screwed up and he'd ended up across the galaxy or something.

Because what other explanation was there?

Sure he'd been told what this place and he'd been given his 'welcome' items, or whatever you wanted to call them but no. It was a joke. A weird joke.

Wouldn't be the first time he'd ended up on a strange planet.

....Right?]

Ignoring that explanation I was given that I really don't feel too flarkin' inclined to believe, anyone want to tell me what's going on?

[He finally activated the communicator he'd been given, his ears laying back slightly as his tail flicks about irritably.]

Where am I and how do I get out of here? I don't have time for this.

[ He doesn't actually really like text; he's not great with technology and there's bound to be some spelling/grammar errors, but right now he trusts typing more than his ability to keep a professional tone. So be it. ]

Hi.

First things first this isnt going to be a lecture. Tensions are high enough and Ive barely been here long enough to have the whole history down yet. (Working on it) Besides, you've already herd plenty of it. So this isnt about that.

[ Not overtly, anyway. He's trying to do the "subtlety" thing. He's not taking notes or anything. ]

I'm Doug by the way. Mostly I'm trying to figure everything out still, you know. That sort of thing. I'm a curious and openminded sort of person wich is why I have some questions:

1. Whats your favorite thing about being here?
2. And least favorite thing?
3. If you had to make up 1 rule what would it be?
4. Why's the coffee so bad & Are there vending machines (where)?

Thank you thats all.

Hi! Hi again, to people I know already, hello for the first time, to anyone I haven't met yet. I'm Ashraf Salib, one of the heads of the clinic, high priest, snazzy dresser… [ He waves a hand. ] General things like that.

So, I'll get straight to the point. In the wake of the mutiny, I've seen a lot of talk on the network that I haven't seen before. Establishing a code of conduct, uniting… there was even some discussion of who you personally look to as a leader. Whatever your opinion of the mutiny may be, you have to admit that it's sparked some new subjects for us. And I'd say they're things we've been needing to talk about.

It isn't just a matter of wresting control from the Initiative, I think that was overly hasty and shortsighted. I think what we should be looking at is how to take control of ourselves. We're a really big group up here, with over three-hundred of us. That's a lot of voices to be heard at once, especially when none of them have much in the way of a recognized authority.

So, I think that should change.

My suggestion would be a council, voted on by the entire Transport body from a number of nominations. The people that we most trust are the ones we should have speaking for us — deciding for us. Because someone needs to. That we're still locked in this base after over two months up here should be evidence enough that it's difficult to achieve much of anything with no one calling the shots.

I've got some specific ideas about the organization of this council, which I wrote down and can attach here, but I want to hear from you. How should we organize ourselves? How can we decide who to listen to? This won't work if we don't all agree to it, and we need to agree on something. We're in a precarious position up here that frankly can't last, and it's past time that we take it into our own hands to change that.

( Council Specifics )

[Sonya appears on the screen without her usual preambles or cheerful introductions. Her manner is very, very controlled. The casual Bronx vowels that occasionally creep into her speech are gone. The profanities are gone. Every once in a while, she glances down; this is a prepared statement.]

Earlier today, Jesse Pinkman snuck into one of the prisoner cells under false pretenses. He’d been friends with one of the mutineers before all of this happened, so he claimed to merely want to visit.

While he was in there, he mutilated this prisoner in spirit and soul. He ripped from her her ability, her inborn gift, to cast spells. He tore away from her something as vital to her as eyesight or touch might be for you. And did he did this to defend someone? To stop an attack or a threatened attack? No: he did it to punish her. To make her suffer. And then he said to her that this is how things are running now.

( fuzzy drama funny drama drama drama fuuuck (ps not an ic cut) )

( When she speaks, Collette aims to sound warm. She's tired, keyed up, and confused as well as trying to understand what's gone on since the mutiny began, and what's continuing in the aftermath. She brings a question she'd talked to Ros about, in her own way; something she wants to know very simply because she doesn't, and it's all the more important now.

Out of respect for that same woman, she keep's Ros's name out of this. )

When it comes down to do or die, who do you trust here to make decisions to pull people through, and not leave people stranded high and dry, or freeze up and fall into inaction? People who keep their temper in heated circumstances. Ones who maybe aren't going to forget the bigger picture, even if that doesn't make it easy on the smaller scale.

I've got a few names myself! Blue, Kate Kane, Nathan Summers, Caesar Silverberg, Lenalee Lee, Xerxes Break, Gilbert Nightray, Jaime Reyes, Ashraf, Kang, Peter Quill, Donny, Armin Arlert, Chrono and Rosette, even Dick Grayson and Ahiru and Vanadi, of all people, would stand by you figuring things out.

Those are some of mine. What're yours?

( I'm going to keep talking, though, so you might want to tune out if you don't want to hear me ramble about a few maybe important, maybe not things! )

Are we truly on the moon?

[ She sounds curious, curious enough to ask again but this time to the network now that she's been given proper instruction on how to work it and the device given to her. Lucrezia's already asked both her mother and her brother, but asking network-wide means making friends. ]

Has it always been this bleak? We see it high up in the sky, unable to ever touch it. It shines down light should we happen to lose our way—and this is how it really is? What a lonely place to be.

And space—God’s light must not reach far.

[ It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be possible. Yet here they all are. And she'll put behind her the chaotic welcome she had been greeted with, monsters and carnage, death littering the corridors a week ago. ]

I cannot help but think that space is a far darker world than that of Rome.

[ But how could such a thing even be possible? ]

[Exsilium, have a king who is munching on a cookie with spiderweb frosting, and who had just learned about Halloween.]

Hello! Please tell me, if you will, do you dress up for Halloween every year? Do you wear scary costumes, or the other sort? What do you think is the best type of costume?

[Gently:] Good morning, Exsilium.

[It almost sounds like a reminder.

Saul's looking just as businesslike as he did in his last network post, this time broadcasting from the Observatory. Elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, he leans in and addresses the camera with an expression that's a little too somber to pass for neutral:]

As of last night, Medusa's gone home.

[He hopes that's where she's gone, anyway. He's never sure what happens to people after they disappear.

After a moment, the look on his face softens.]

For the time being, I've assumed the role of Director of the Department of Initiative-Transport Relations. Medusa and I started this together back in May, when its purpose was to foster trust between us and the Initiative by way of hiring liaisons to make announcements on the Initiative's behalf. Friendly faces, right?

But it's clear to me now that there's no use for that in our current predicament, so the Department's getting a bit of a makeover.

( First of all... )

[There's a pause, then, as he runs a hand through his hair to move onto other business.]

( As far as supply runs are concerned... )

[And the feed cuts.]

[Caspian looks a little drawn, a little angry, a little confused - he doesn't understand nuclear bombs, but he's grasped the idea that they're a catastrophe, and evacuation is a necessity; and as a king, he understands about making difficult decisions to leave people behind, but it doesn't sit well with him, even so. Surely there must be some way... And then there's the moon! All the way up there? How will they ever...]

If you need something brought along to the moon, I will be glad to take things for you. I ... I don't have much to bring myself.

And if there is any way I can help...with saving EVERYONE anything, please let me know.

[Caspian is sitting on his bed, poking and prodding at his tablet, which, unbeknownst to him, is actually on. He's frowning as he works at it, thoughts of his current surroundings occupying his mind. These accommodations are not what he is used to as a king, and he must admit, he finds them both spare and drab. Still, the shelter is adequate, and the bed seems comfortable enough, which is the most important thing. He understands enough to realize that luxury is at a minimum in this world, and he must not expect any comforts beyond the very basics.

He frowns again at the tablet in his hand. Despite instructions given, he really has no idea how this works, but he's keeping himself very busy trying to figure it out. When the screen flickers, he nearly drops it in surprise.]

Oh! I think... I think this is working now? Hello? I talk into this, and I see and hear people talking back, right?

Like... magic. [That's a disturbing thought. In his world, magic is not always to be trusted, especially magic items from origins unknown. So he'll treat this device with caution.]

I should introduce myself. I am Caspian X, King of Narnia. I must ask first: are there any other Narnians here?

[Caspian's not sure what he hopes to hear in answer to that question: he doesn't want to think of any of his people here, brought to this strange and harsh world, but selfishly, he would like to see a familiar face.]