[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.

So, um, hello. I'm back.

[Have a disgruntled Draculina looking into the screen.]

What the bloody hell happened here?! Because it looks like someone made a sodding mess of the place, and while I didn't mind being in London it's worrying to say the least when you go two days past your return date. Not to mention some of the gear we brought back can spoil.

Can someone please give me an explanation? Because if this mutiny malarky is real I hope the bleeders responsible got a right royal arse kicking.

[Seras grimaces, she's only scanned the network and what she's seen is worrying to say the least. Something big happened and she wants to know what.]



[[ooc: Action are good for this post if your character wants to catch Seras coming out of the transporter room or anywhere. Replies may be a little slow until tomorrow c: mun is le tired]]

[ When the video clicks on Roslyn looks a little tired but primarily determinedly mad, someone who's been running on coffee and protein bars for too long and is in no mood for anyone's games. Her voice is brisk, no nonsense and cuttingly sharp. ]

As of this moment, all identified mutineers are in the custody of the police. Should anyone wish to provide help with guard duty it will be appreciated. Visits to them will be allowed only under supervision. Should anyone attempt to injure them, that person will find themselves in cuffs faster than they can blink.

My patience with having to repeat myself on this matter is wearing thin.

[ Her tone softens a little, almost an appeal. ]

While there will be consequences for their actions, we have enough war and bloodshed on our doorstep without killing each other. Nothing will be gained and much could be lost. We do not execute people, and I will not tolerate it as a suggestion.

All systems should be restored. The base should now be fully operational again and you can return to your daily lives, if that is what you wish. Alternatively, you can consider what was said on both sides and determine if what we are doing is truly enough, or if we have become complacent.

[ Just saying. Small out. ]

( an array of private texts )

[ ooc: all mutineers can now be considered to be locked up in empty rooms in the West Wing for the immediate future! I will keep all arrested mutineers updated as further consequence type developments occur, feel free to let me know if you have preferences that we could maybe work out. log for mutineer & visitor shenanigans can be found here. ]

Okay, so, two things.

One, anyone know how to reattach an arm? Like... fuck, I dunno, I guess you could just sew that shit back on. Or like... heal it on? Anyone got any magic wand-waving bullshit for that? Or science it back on, I guess, since holy fuck this is the moon, and all. Hey, are we over that part yet? Cuz I'm pretty fucking jaded. Turns out they weren't kidding when they said that thing about no one hearing you scream in space! They can't hear you bitch in space, either. It blows serious donkey balls out there, once you get your ass over the moonwalking part.

Oh, right, thing two. Anyone seen a decapitated head anywhere? Blond hair, rotted out eyes, answers to Luke? You just lemme know if you seen that little scamp, 'kay? He ran off somewhere, can't turn my back for a goddamn second on that fucker.

[ feel free to have spied Jan's missing head-trophy anywhere around the moon base :') it got shrunken and preserved somewhere along the line, and could pretty much have been left anywhere. ]

[ There's a big, toothy grin front and center on the screen here — it's about all that can be seen, actually. The hall is dark, and the light from the tablet doesn't show much of it. ]

Heeeeeyyy, kiddies! I seen a buncha people complaining about this sweet sitch we got here, so I figured I'd do a demonstration. Y'know, how how to kill zombies the badass way, right?

First off, anything but a semi-automatic is for pussies, but you're even better if you can take this shit with your bare hands. Don't worry about getting bitten or whatever! If you get bitten and die, or turn into another zombie, you didn't deserve to try this shit anyway.

[ There's a scratching sound just off camera and Jan stops, excitedly grinning into the dark. ]

Shit, okay, here we go.

[ He scoots back, setting the tablet on something to keep the view trained on the scene, and starts forward into the dark. It's hard to see what's going on. Someone here is a terrible director with an awful mind for lighting. ]

Come out come out where ever you are, you ugly motherfucker! You got a date with some fucking fangs! [ Something snakes along the floor, mostly impossible to pick out, but it seems to be wrapping around his ankle unnoticed. ] What the fuck, are you hiding? Just figures that I'd get a camera-shy zombie for my first go at my very own nature documentary, right?

[ He starts to turn back and offer an exaggerated shrug, but at that moment the something tightens around his ankle and pulls, and he goes flying almost comically off-balance, and dragged off-screen.

Too bad he's still so obnoxiously loud, though. ]

Aww, FUCK! LEGGO MY FUCKING FOOT, YOU DICKWAD! Holy shit that is an ugly goddamn mug, you — aw, fuck! THAT'S MY ARM, MY GODDAMN WANKING ARM, YOU SICK FUCK—

[ Some metallic clanging, and Jan's complaints grow fainter. He also sounds increasingly more pissed, until he's out of range entirely. Then the tablet just records a blank, dark hallway, with the ambient noise of the creatures in other parts of the base.

So much for that. ]

[[ooc; There won't be replies here, but Jan could totally use a rescue. Or maybe someone killing this thing and incidentally freeing the vampiric princess?? He'd appreciate it. (Log is coming!)]]

Hello.

[On screen is a pleasant looking young woman with short blonde hair and red eyes that might be dimly glowing, or is that a trick of the light? Something about the way she's speaking - in a clear English accent - has the air of someone who's practiced this speech beforehand.]

My name is Seras Victoria, it's my first time addressing the network here so nice to meet you all.

I'd like to talk about another particular issue of resources on the moon, though this resource is er... a little different from the others.

Some of you may be aware that werewolves aren't the only supernatural creatures living among you. Some of us are vampires.

[She won't name any names, respecting the privacy of those who would rather not publically announce what they are.]

I'm asking if anyone here would be willing to volunteer to donate blood specifically for the vampire population. There would be no biting involved Jan and it would never more than once a week, depending on how many people volunteer.

[Seras smiles hopefully.]

I know it's possible that we could make a supply run to a hospital or blood bank somewhere using the transport system but I'd rather not take it from where it might damage lives. We could do with getting the medical equipment to collect and store the blood however. Bags and a fridge for example. If anyone with medical knowledge could help that would be appreciated.

To any other vampires out there, I know a couple of you but if you'd like to contact me, privately if you wish, to have access to whatever we manage to organise, please do.

[Added on later to the post]

Erm, when I said once a week, it would really be a month. My mistake.

Our medical clinic needs help now more than ever. We've already had calls for medics and trainees, and I'm glad we have so many volunteers. But I'm leading a secondary project to help the clinic, and I was hoping to ask for assistance as well. If you've been looking to help but you're too squeamish to handle medical duties, this might be your chance.

Jaime Reyes and I are working on increasing our available power supply because our sensitive medical equipment can't be allowed to shut down when the transporter pad is running. Jaime's collecting generators and parts from the past, so please talk to him if you're willing to do that. But I'm working on an eventual long term solution.

I propose that we instal solar grids at the poles of the moon, where there is constant access to solar energy. We need to reinforce whatever is already there, but I don't think we're harvesting as much as we could be---so that means we need more panels. And I'll need additional hands to collect and configure them. So if you'd like to learn some simple engineering, with the chance to learn more later, I'll gladly train you. And if you'd like to collect space suits for the eventual installation, that would help as well.

Thank you.

[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.]

[ there's an awkward second of someone fumbling with the device. when scott steps back a second later, the reason's obvious: he's trying to get it to balance on his desk, giving a clear view of both him and isaac standing a few feet off. ]

Hey. My name's Scott. I was here once before, so I guess I don't really have any questions.

[ except for maybe why am i back, but he knows that'd just be wasting time. anyway, they're broadcasting for a reason, and that's not it. ]

I know stuff is really weird here, like angels and superheroes and shapeshifters, so I don't really get the point in— [ keeping secrets? that's pretty broad. he obviously didn't map this speech out, so rather than making more of a mess he just stumbles for the finish line. ] I'm a werewolf. If you have a problem with that, let me know.

[ there's no challenge in his tone. it sounds more like "sorry, but we can probably talk it out". he almost steps forward to end the feed there, catching himself abruptly to add: ]

Isaac too. [ And Isaac offers a casual little wave at that, in the midst of all his eyerolling at Scott's... presentation of sorts. Really, Scott. ]

People are missing and people are hurt, and we want to help, but we can't do anything if we're too busy hiding. [ which is the real point of this, except hold up, one last thing. ] And we know there's a full moon in a few days, but we aren't crazy and we won't hurt anyone.


( ooc: icly the day after the party/kidnappings. all dialogue is scott's because isaac is rude, but replies will come from one or both! )

[ Ahh yes, here he is again, your resident robot. ]

Since there seems to be an influx of new people suddenly, I'd like to extend my invitation for a free living space to all. My name is Drift. I've been fixing up this old building, I assume it was a factory of some kind. I find myself at a surplus of empty rooms.

Anyone is welcome to stay here long term or short term, you will have a room of your own, privacy and my protection as you are under my roof.

I only ask that you are peaceful and do not disturb the others living here.

That said, if anyone would like to donate any human-sized beds or furnishings, I would be very grateful, as I am not asking money of anyone who stays.

If you have any questions or would like to come stay here, don't hesitate to ask. I don't bite.

[ There's a head of vividly red hair on the video feed this afternoon, and it belongs to one surprisingly unsurprised newcomer. Behind her is a brief flutter of feathers from what looks to be extremely messy wings as she adjusts herself, although they quickly disappear once she folds them against her back. ]

Alright, hey there Exsillinum. [ A wave! ] Name's Apollo, I'm new and I'm just gonna go ahead and assume this is a locked world that [dramatic voice] ~nobody leaves~ because of a magical Queen or some shit and there's no way out blah blah bleh bloo blah whatever, I'll give a shit about it later.

So yeah, I'm gonna get right to it and do a roll call. [ She clears her throat and oh boy here we go. ]

OI JEREK, AIDAN, OLD FART OF A GRAMPA YOU GUYS HERE OR WHAT

Get back to me if you lot are here, yeah? Alternatively, for those of you who ain't one of these assholes, lemme know if you see a doctor with chick hair, a blonde teenager with a baby face or an old fart with big ol' wings who looks like he's a million years old. Their favourite chicklet's after them! In the meantime, I'm gonna go scout out a fuckin' bar and drink until this shitfest looks a little better then pass out on a bench somewhere. [ A lazy salute follows. ] Peace!