[ when the feed clicks on, marduk is in what appears to be a ruined building near the edge of town. there's snow on the floor and holes in the walls, but he's not wearing a single scrap of winter clothing. more importantly, he doesn't look especially pleased to be doing this. ]

Recently, one of the locals here went missing. Don't ask me what his name was, I'm not the one who gives a shit. I'm just here to solve the mystery.

He's missing because he's dead, and he's dead because I killed him.

[ he pauses here. it looks like it's for dramatic effect, but really he's just trying to figure out how to end the announcement. ]

Most of you would call that murder, wouldn't you? Can't remember if you all figured out what to do about that, but-- if you want retribution, you can come and get it.

[ good enough. the video ends there. ]

[ it has been a while since morgana has appeared on the network and when she does, she does so suddenly. the feed clicks on to reveal her as she steps back from the tablet, there is more of a coldness to her face, edges gained only by time. pale skin is stained with blossoms of red, scraps and cut still unattended (she had a bloody cave dropped on her head not too long ago, thanks merlin), fain traces of dust collected in her hair. ]

And I thought my loathing for this place could grow no more.

[ as striking as morgana herself the large white form behind her begs more attention. the creature croons softly, head lowering and wings folding in tight. ]

Her name is Aithusa. [ even morgana's tone is colder now. there is a pain to it, joy and pain. aithusa her dear ally and friend, brought here to this dreadful rock with no sky to stretch her wings and fly. yet part of her is happy to have the dragon here, at her side. ] And she is under my protection. [ aithusa's head raises and the dragon pads forward a single step. morgana exhales, her hands balled into fists that none can see. they shake. ] She is not to be harmed. This is the first and only warning any of you will receive.

Heed my words or you shall regret it, unimaginable suffering will follow if you do not. [ it is a threat, plain and simple. lacking in subtlety, but she could care less, she will have herself understood now and understood plainly.

and just as quickly as morgana and aithusa appeared, the feed cuts. ]

[It's been a long time since he's had to think about this. Peter hasn't been an astronaut in years, and at some point he just became so used to space that he didn't even think about how to adapt to all the changes anymore.

So here he is: one very tired looking man, with a chipped mug full of coffee, and a well-worn uniform, because he's got to do something and space is his thing and somebody's got to do something to help, and the person to do something has always been him.]

So, to start this whole thing off, I guess I'd better introduce myself. My name is Peter Quill. I'm the Star-Lord, and the leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy. I don't expect you to have heard of us around here, what with all the many wonderful alternate universe options available. But we're very much around, and we're going do whatever we can to get some of this mess fixed up.

[Swear to god Gamora and Adam you had better not dare contradict him on that.]

Before I was the Star-Lord, though, I used to be an astronaut. Our space base was a little bit fancier than this, when I was around, but it was pretty much the same set-up, so I figured I would offer up some advice on how to deal with living in a place like this.

First, you might have noticed the moon doesn't abide by Earth hours anymore. Really try to make yourself keep to them anyway, because otherwise you're going to be in for a really rough ride and we'll probably run out of coffee way before the week's out. Repair guys, if we could maybe get something running to simulate a natural cycle, that would help a lot.

[Not that he even notices it anymore. One reason for all that coffee: he's been so many places that his system is probably fucked for good.]

You might have noticed that this place is technically really small. You may start to feel a little bit cramped, or start sleeping a lot, or start getting really paranoid that your roommate might be stealing your stuff or trying to kill you in your sleep. That's called cabin fever, and if you think you have it, try to get the hell out of here and take some kind of mission that gets you back on Earth, because you're doing nobody any favors trying to tough it out or pretend it's not happening. Especially since we're all going to be here for the foreseeable future.

[He can't really pretend he's happy about that, either, but at least he's used to having no privacy and living in close quarters with other people by now. Even people he kind of hated! It's amazing what you can get used to.]

Oh, and all that freeze-dried food is going to get really old, really fast. I'm not kidding. That crap is awful. Trust me, you will get sick of it so fast you won't even believe it was possible. So whoever ends up being responsible for restocking supplies, I beg you to try to get anything that lasts that's not that.

[Pause, for a dramatic sip of coffee.]

If you've got anything else you're worried about, feel free to come ask me about it. I'll be around.

Adam, Gamora- we're going to try to set up base in the first convenient reclaimed space there is, so until then we're gonna have to operate out of someone's bedroom. And so help me Gamora, if you left behind that coffee pot, it's on you to replace it. I don't care if it might not even work, it's the principle of the thing.

[ He looks tired and slightly less chipper than usual, but that's basically the theme of the week, so no surprises there. Right to business, then! ]

Adrasteius is gone, which means I'll be taking over the Transport Clinic — which I guess can just be shortened to the Clinic, now. [ sigh. :c ] We've got people organizing supply runs, which is great, but we're always open to have a few more volunteered hands around. No training or previous experience required, promise, just let me know if you're interested.

Anyway, I hope everyone caught AI's announcement, about the revival technology getting left behind. Consider this a friendly reminder to try to avoid dying, alright? If there are any accidents, on missions or otherwise, I have a spell to resurrect the recently dead. Not that that means you should start getting reckless, because my supplies for it are limited. If anyone else has a similar ability, now would be a really, really good time to speak up about it.

[ He pauses here, starts to add a smile, and... rubs his hands over his face instead. He mumbles something that sort of sounds like don't even have a medical wing yet, and ends the feed. ]

[ Em doesn't very much enjoy talking or, in general, socializing. Not that she's anti social, it's just that she is very shy and social situations get her anxious and apprensive and she never really knows what to say. She's a quiet person outside her group of friends and she prefers a book to going out, but this time, it's clearly a very different situation she has found herself in. Her voice is quivering, a extremely faint French accent slipping in some syllables and words, but far from the cartoonish exaggeration that the French tend to speak English in. ]

This is a mistake. [ A long pause to suck in some air into her lungs, a shiver audible through her breathing. ] I cannot be here. Not alone-- not without them. Please, my children. I-- I can't leave them with him. Don't do this, please, someone. Take me back. They're alone with him.

[ There is a longer pause now, where she's just breathing. There's a sound which makes it look like she's slumping down on the floor or leaning back, and her voice comes a little muffled as she keeps herself together, possibly a hand over her mouth. ]

You can't do this to them.

[ dean isn't looking particularly friendly today. no smirky smiles laced with suggestive amusement rest on his face. in fact, he looks beyond tired; sleepless nights are written all over his features, the hard planes of his face even harder than normal.

when shit hits the fan not once, but twice, you don't look your best. ]

Stay away from Castiel. You know, nerdy guy in a trench coat, blue tie… angel of the Lord. He's not himself, and he's dangerous.

If you see him, contact me immediately, okay? Name's Dean Winchester, for those who don't know. Lem'me be clear; don't approach him, just-- don't.

[ he pauses then, green eyes falling from the screen as he gathers his thoughts. ]

And for those who knew him, Sam Winchester is gone.

[ click. ]