[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.

Hello again, Esilium. Long time no talk-- [Chloe's looking under the weather in terms of wear and tear only; her bright eyes actually bright today for a change. For the first time in months, as a matter of fact.] good god does it feel good to be free again. Never thought I'd be saying those words, but there you have it.

And don't worry, no more lectures on this end. No more daily mutineering announcements: I can catch up on what I missed in lock up by scrolling though the network on my own and I've got a more important issue that needs addressing first. [There's a brief pause before she adds, gently as possible:] Obviously anyone that wants to talk shop about what went down is welcome to, of course. Just-- you know. We're on the fast track to recovery around here from what it looks like, so I'm not about to force anything else down anyone's throats as long as that remains the case.

Thanks, by the way, for not unanimously voting for throwing us all out the airlock. [Nice to know not everyone wants them done in or worse.]


Right, though, to the point. I need someone willing and capable of doing tattoo work. Good tattoo work.

In this case I'm even willing to consider the magical sort so long as nothing additional goes along with it. Not really a fan of curses and poisoned apple nonsense.


Additional text addressed to Vanozza:

not sure if I should be thanking you for this or asking why you of all people are signing up to look after someone like me right now

Right, so. Public service announcement.

[the guy on the screen epitomizes scruffy teenager: leather jacket, hair in need of a brush, days worth of stubble on his face. those familiar with peter might think that he seems kind of extraordinarily calm. actually, those unfamiliar with peter might think that too, considering their situation. he doesn't seem happy, exactly, not drugged or faking it, just...really zen.]

Big brown wolf you might see wandering around sometimes? That's me. And yeah, I know the teeth are super impressive, but despite all rumors and recent shenanigans to the contrary, bloodlust is not my personal MO. A wolf is a wolf, though, not a labrador. Don't try to hurt me or touch me while I'm eating and everything will be cool.

End public service announcement.

[he makes to cut the feed and then pauses.]

Oh, and the other guys are okay now. Claws retracted and all that. If they become not okay, do us all a favor and call me along with the local hero squad. That kind of shit is what happens when you bring werewolves to the damn moon.

Right, last thing. Stanley, I still have a bunch of your stuff if you want it.

[When the video feed begins, it starts with Sollux leaning heavily on both his hands. Although it's video, it doesn't look like it's entirely intentional he meant for it to be a video broadcast, and he drags his hands away from his face and stares plainly at the communicator's camera. He looks a lot older right now than fifteen, his actual age. Like he hasn't slept in a week, (spoiler: He hasn't). On top of how tired he looks, his voice sounds hollow. ]

I can't believe I wath tho thtupid to think that thith place could be thomething worth trying to save. That we actually had a shot. It was all self-delusion, mostly. I should have known that it wath only a matter of time, before we would lose everything.

My bees are dead. Equius.

[A hard swallow.]

Equius is gone.

I can hear the screams of the Exiles and their future deaths. Every single one.

[He's in full Doom mode right now, it seems.]

[please enjoy about 45 seconds of silent film: small wildflowers, shrugs, and grass...some creeping vines up a dead tree trunk. it's only a little shaky, because this is being filmed in his hands, but hey.

once it's done, there's just follow-up text:]

The plants around here are getting healthier :)
I take it a good sign.

[private text to: ADRASTEIUS]

Everything looks a lot better here, and I'm pretty sure it's mostly thanks to you!
I found an interesting book today about where certain kinds of plants can grow. And I might have some ideas because of it...

[ Drift winces a smile and waves at the screen awkwardly. ]

Hello. For those of you who are unfamiliar, my name is Drift. I've been fixing up what appears to be an old warehouse or factory, but I've found myself with a surplus of space.

I've been thinking about what to do with it, but I'm coming up with nothing. So... if there was anyone looking for a safe place to stay, I'd be willing to give you a room here.

If anyone has any questions, please feel free to ask.

Thank you.

[Action: All around town today, Elmer will be handing out posters! He's hanging them wherever he can find a dry enough place, or is bugging shop workers to hang them in their windows or booths, and he's even just handing them to passersby. What is it? Check out Elmer's amazing graphic design skills with this poster he's made in whatever their tablet's version of MS Paint is. It's for the talent competition he's promoting, and he'll hand you one with a big grin.]

Be there or be square! It's guaranteed to put a smile on your face!

[Text: Yeah sorry but you're all getting this poster thing emailed to you too. Expect an attachment to this text. He's obnoxious like that. He has a question to go with it as well.]

I know some Transports out there are business owners as well! Anyone care to be a sponsor? (´･ω･`)

[Wrathion doesn't know how this happened. He had escaped the recent pandemic with barely a sniffle, which was no surprise to him--he was a dragon, after all; superior in fortitude and resistance, divinely crafted, nearly invincible. Yes, Exsilium was a sickly place, and yes, he did sometimes feel that rot trying to seep into him. Black dragons were creatures of earth: rock and soil and wood and the hot, molten depths that burned in the center of the planet. He is not directly connected to the health of this world, not as he was to Azeroth, but he keenly feels its plague all the same. Still, he should have been immune to it.

And yet.

Here he was, just days after returning from the beach, stuck with frustrated helplessness in his bed. He's sneezing, he's coughing, his head feels like somebody bashed it in and then replaced his brain with dust and cotton. And he's hot--uncomfortably, unnaturally hot.

Groaning, he scowls into his tablet. For once, Wrathion is just not in the mood for his usual front.]

What does a man have to do to get some medicine around here? I'm a prince, you know! I shouldn't have to go around begging for everything I need.

[He coughs violently--and maybe with a little more exaggeration than necessary--and his red eyes flare. He clears his throat and speaks through gritted teeth.]

What I mean to say is that I would be most grateful if one of you could make yourselves useful and bring me something for these terrible, horrible aches. And the congestion. And this truly awful cough!

[He goes in for another dramatic round of heaving.]

--and be quick about it. I'm really not used to wait-- [coughs] -- I mean, I'm in dire shape, here.

Thank you.

[ Hello giant robot on screen trying not to look worried and failing miserably. ]

Hi there, uhm. Has anyone seen Wing around? He wasn't there when I woke up today and I can't seem to get a hold of him. It's not like him to just run off.

If anyone knows anything, please tell me.

Wing is hard to miss, he's the only other person here who looks like me.

Um. Thank you. Thanks.

Rita Mordio, Ashraf Salib, and Feferi Peixes- your clothes are completed. Please contact me to arrange to collect them. My apologies for not having them completed sooner, but I trust you understand when I say that I was ill for a good portion of this month.

Additionally, if we met in the catacombs and you gave me clothing to repair, the work is completed. Please let me know when you'll be by to pick up your items- anything left after the end of the week will be thrown away.

((Feel free to handwave your character having given him their clothes to mend after the EPIC HEROICS! Prices were roughly 10-20 marques, depending on damage. Also feel free to have them not picking them up and having their clothes chucked after this weekend. :3 Just let me know before they go hollering on the network.))

[ The silence in the background is full and steady, which makes the fast, uneven breathing behind the tablet a little more out of place than it might have been. ]

My friend, he- Jericho. [ a huffed breath out. ]

They- it wasn’t even an accident. He didn’t have a pulse when I... when I got here. [ not a certainty, the accident part. but a guess. a good guess his head's rushing to already, but he's too upset, too angry to think it through right now. ]

I don’t know how long it’s been but you- you could tell that with the right equipment. With the fractures and the head trauma that’s- that’s a lot of- [ work to do is what he doesn’t say.

no he won’t say that. ]

Whatever it takes, I’ll- whatever the white coats use to bring people back, we’ve gotta use that. There has to be a way, there just...

There has to be.

[oh, it's a Toph. For once her hair is brushed out of her face, but her eyes look puffy and her nose is red]

Has anyone...

[...

.....

........

...........

SNEEZE!!!!

......snoooorts snot back up her nose.]

...'scuse me.

Has anyone seen a tiny little guy around? Like, the size of your thumb? Real sassy attitude, likes to poke people with tiny little swords? He's my roommate and I haven't seen him in a while.

[sniffles.]

...I hope a cat didn't get him.

Well, isn't this just peachy. As if we didn't have enough fucking work to do without an actual disaster situation coming down on our heads.

[Adrasteius glares into the feed, his pale, thin face looking a bit haggard.]

Folks, my name's Adrasteius, and I'm the guy in charge of our clinic. Emphasis on ours, mind you. If you were injured in the crash and you need medical attention, please let me know immediately. I can come to you, or I can send you someone else.

[He huffs, runs a hand through his hair. He's already been running around ever since the spaceship crashed, tending mostly to the natives caught in the blast. Sweat beads his throat and forehead.

His voice is a little hesitant when he goes on.]

On another note, for the safe and waiting and bored... Due to my work here, and bullshit like this, I haven't really gotten a chance to explore the surrounding areas. I'm not asking for the weather report out there or something, I just need to know--have any of you with the skill sensed any natural magic in this land?

[It might be a long shot. It probably is a long shot. But he's at least got to ask.]

[Keith starts out by taking a bow at the camera]

Good evening, citizens of Exsilium! If we haven't met before, my name is Keith Goodman and I want to wish everyone good luck, and again good luck on the upcoming mission! Please give it your best and we'll come back safely.

Now I have a small request to ask of anyone with any prior experience in pets and is not participating in the upcoming mission. Since I will be gone for a while, would you mind looking after John for me? [He tilts the camera to show a large golden retriever sitting by the doorway.] I cannot estimate how long I will be gone so would you please take him in? I assure you he is fully house trained, I have the necessary supplies for his care and you will be paid handsomely for the trouble.

If you have any questions, you can leave them here or privately contact me. Thank you and good night!

[So Sollux thought it'd be a good idea to see what Earth movies are like. And with Crank as his only basis thus far, he's 1. not impressed, and 2. confused on a few things.]

Hey.

That movie that was shown last night, used a lot of words I don't know. Human vernacular ith really stupid and weird. Tho everyone should tell me all the thwear words they know and what they mean. There were like twenty onesth I didn't know in that movie, and I thtill don't get what they meant. Thith ith for educational purposes, of course.

This is...the longest I've ever really been away from home.

[He sounds depressed about it, but then he hurriedly adds; ] And I'll be fine, I just -

[Lapsing back.]

I just...miss home.

[A pause, like maybe he shouldn't even say what he was planning to.]

...so...is there anything that - anyone can suggest I do...or...something?

Hello, and good afternoon! I've something of a strange proposal for anyone willing to play along. I can phrase it as a game, if that would make anyone more willing to humor me.

In any case, here it is: I would very much appreciate it if you could tell me three facts about yourself. Two of them should be true, but one ought to be a lie. Just harmless lies and truths, if you please! I'd rather not hear about the bodies you keep in the cellar at home. [ that goes with a polite laugh. that's a joke, see??? ]

Much obliged.

[[ooc; Damian will be practicing his new lie detector of a weapon!! The permissions post for it is right here. I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER IF YOU FILL IT OUT FOR ME.]]

[An audio post begins, and for a few seconds it's just the sound of the rain. Then, a piano begins to play. Those familiar with classical music would recognize it as French Suite No. 4, a well-known work by German composer J.S. Bach.

The music goes on for about fifteen minutes. It's a piece with a sense of introversion to it - even as the music turns complicated and speedy in some areas, it maintains a restrained elegance. Emotional, without being passionate.

When it finally ends, there are another few seconds of rainfall before Kaworu speaks.]

The demands of human relationships are overwhelming when you consider just how much love a heart needs to survive.

But, conversely, a heart can give an infinite amount of love in turn. The world is less scary if you simply remember this.

( The problem here was, so far as Ellie could see it, was that there were people. Too many people, a claustrophobic press of Transports jammed in so that she felt like she suddenly had some idea what it was like for cattle to be run through the crush. Whether or not they were all destined for an abattoir was another matter entirely.
Not just that, but they weren't the right people. Some of them seemed decent enough, but they weren't her human safety blanket or the guy that kept them all going, or the one that she could always feel superior to. (To be honest, it was a relief none of them were Lee.)

This might be why she is addressing the network from one of the bombed out buildings rather than her place, which she hasnt visited for a few days. Ellie's just surrounded by debris, dirt and water damaged walls, though some of the prior are concealed by some pretty massive piles of paper. She's propping herself up on her elbows, not looking right at the device. )

I was wondering what there is around here in the way of record keeping. I mean, these things have got a lot on them, but something other than that. Pens, paper - the tangible stuff. In case the network fails, or something.

There's probably already something, but I haven't had time to figure all that out yet. And maybe if there isn't, we should make one. Record the people who have been here, what they know, experiences and stuff. Not just stuff that happens here, but before. Or, um, elsewhere, I guess. Wherever home is.

( Despite this being a video broadcast, and deliberately so, she has to yet glanced at the camera. She does now, very briefly, but there is a definite guilty expression to it. Ellie opens her mouth again, but thinks better of it. )

Continuity- kinda just-

[ -scuffles in the background. The video feed clicks on, though for a few seconds there’s not much to see other than a few broken shingles and a small-fingered, bright green glove. The voice is young enough not to crack, and probably – probably – male. ]

Yeesh. Okay, that’s not it. You know, you guys should’ve just said if you were looking to upgrade this stuff. I mean this thing... this thing is just kinda...

[ With a click he figures out where the input is and tilts it away from the rooftop he’s perched on. The face peering down into the feed is masked and frowning. ]

Okay. I think... that does it, right?

So I didn’t think there was gonna be much of a reason for me to use this thing, but since the welcome wagon left out the part about everybody forgetting who they were I thought I could… um. Help. I mean, if anybody’s still confused about stuff. I didn’t get a chance to write down everything before this place went haywire, but I think I still remember all the same things I did yesterday. So that’s something, anyway.

[The face of a man about sixty-five years old appears on screen. He's squinting at the blasted device through glasses that he's very glad he kept, but he would still struggle to make a text post at the moment---not with his old prescription. The voice is rougher, but still recognizable as Billy's to the few people he knows.]

Please answer this question for me: it's urgent.

Is extreme accelerated aging a known side effect of the transporter? I have several other hypotheses about my sudden condition, but this is the first I should test. And if you know of any cures for this condition, I'd appreciate a pointer. I'm drawing up my own attempts at a cure, but there's not much I can do with our limited supplies.

[He sighs wearily.]

I calculate that I'll age to the point of death within the next 36 hours, or sooner if it accelerates further, so there's not much that I have to lose.

((ooc: The aging is a canon event caused by his own tinkering at home gone wrong with a delayed reaction. And there's a canon medicine that would likely be at the Hold, but he hasn't a clue.))

[ For the sake of not having to deal with too many distracting hallucinations, texts are obviously the best. ]

Wow, this thing actually works. Here i thought it would just be a portable cutting board with how clunky and hideous it looks, but i guess it does the job

still hideous though.

Anyway, hey, i just need some questions answered then you guys can go on your ~*merry way*~ and i won't need to look at this giant, flexible floppy disk with a screen for too long. Where can i get fabric? Sewing stuff. Shit like that.

Thought it'd be easier to ask rather than roam around since i stray off course pretty easily



and cookies


i really need some good cookies, like addicting good. Super important. [ Kougyoku got him hooked... ]

---

( OPTIONAL ACTION FOR UNIT 807 )

[Filtered from Kanaya]

OKAY, SO. WHAT KIND OF CRAP MAKES AN ACCEPTABLE GIFT FOR HUMAN TWELFTH PERIGEE? IS IT ANY KIND OF CLOTHING ITEM OR ONLY COLD WEATHER ITEMS, OR IS THERE ANY RULE FOR WHAT YOU GIVE BACK BASED ON WHAT YOU WERE GIVEN?

ALSO, WHAT IS THE DEADLINE ON THIS THING. WHEN EXACTLY DOES THE HUMAN GIFTGIVING HOLIDAY END?

[If you're watching this, you'll realize pretty quickly that the communicator is placed at the far end of a bath tub. How can you tell? Because there is a woman in the tub across from the communicator. Nothing explicit can be seen due to convenient placement of frothy bubbles.

Erza shows no signs of actively trying to preserve her modesty and is fully aware that the device is transmitting.]

Greeting fellow... transports? That's what they've been calling us I believe.

My name is Erza Scarlet and I'm what we call a wizard on my world. I belong to a guild known as Fairy Tail.

[She pauses, seemingly distracted by her own thoughts before she smiles at the camera.]

I had meant to introduce myself earlier, but I've been confined to the infirmary for the past two weeks recovering from injuries I received prior to and during my arrival here.

That reminds me.

I'd like to thank everyone who came to my aid; it was foolish of me to return to the battlefield so soon after... Forgive me I'm trailing off. Regardless, I owe you all a debt of gratitude for your assistance.

[She inclines her head to emphasize her gratefulness.]

I'd also like to greet to my new roommates in Room 710. Villiers, Lash, I hope we'll get along.

[And you will get along with her or suffer the consequences.]

[LOCKED TO: VANADI]
2o not iin the mood for thii2 2o not iin the FUCKIING mood for thii2.
hey a22hole.
we have 2hiit two dii2cu22.
namely your 2tatu2 wiith my kii2me2ii2.


[OPEN TO ALL (delayed, after conversation with Vanadi)]

2o ii don't normally do thii2 but hey guy2 2up.
who want2 two fiight a pii22ed off p2ychiic.
don't raii2e your hand2 all at once.
ii need two burn off thii2 energy.
come on iit'll be fun ii'm liike a fiinal bo22 level of diiffiiculty.
braggiing riight2 for two week2 iif you wiin.

[ Sayaka's at the markets today, if her surroundings are any indication - a rare display of being somewhere other than her room or the training facility. She stares down at the camera for a moment or two before speaking, as if deciding whether to actually continue or not. ]

So I was wondering... some of you have been around for a while, right? What do you do for fun here? Training's okay, but I'd like to try some other stuff too. [ Possibly a lie, but she is sick of relying on others to get out and about. It's a safe way of asking without being too obvious.

She hesitates before shutting the feed off, glancing around until a nearby display grabs her attention. A tiny frown crosses her face. ]

... This place needs better music.

[ Priorities, yes. ]

[Lea fusses with his netbook for several seconds, half his face looming over the video pickup, before he sits back and beams at it.]

Okay, so, I think I finally got this one. Check this out!

[He reaches down and picks up a slightly battered guitar, re-checking the tuning with a strum and smiling a little more brightly to hide the brief attack of stage fright. Wow, it's a lot easier playing in front of real people than when he's making a video --

But it's still just playing in front of people, he assures himself, and launches into a wobbly but decent rendition of Born on the Bayou.

It had been way cooler with the band, but the way he's grinning when he finally finishes the song suggests he thinks it was--]

-- Pretty cool, huh? Hey, does anybody else around here play guitar? We should jam!

And, uh, if you can show me a couple tricks or something, that'd be great.

[He waves at the camera and shuts the recording down.]

[The audio feed turns on. After a few moments of silence, the voice that comes through is soft and hesitant but clear.]

...I think I'm supposed to use this. But I...

[one hefty pause later]

I don't know why I'm here. Is that strange?

[one much shorter pause later]

And... what are "marques"?