thisavrou

[ To say that it is taking some effort to adjust to the new reality Ororo has suddenly found herself in would be quite an understatement, but she still manages to look perfectly calm and composed as she offers the network a polite smile.

Would she like to maybe have herself a minor little breakdown? Sure. But she has absolutely no idea what sort of consequences that might have considering the quite substantial storm that is already going on outside the Ingress Complex, and there really just isn't time to fall apart right now. Maybe at some later point she can allow herself to fully absorb the shock of what has happened, but for now she has to keep moving forward. ]

Hello. My name is Ororo Munroe, and I'm a relatively new arrival here. Where I'm from I'm a teacher, mostly ancient history which isn't really going to be too useful around here unless some of you are dying to know about the Roman Empire, even if that was never a thing on your planet or in your timeline.

What I also am, is a mutant, which in my case means I have the ability to control the weather. I can survive in just about any climate, and I can get all sorts of information about what is going on in the environment around me because I am basically wired into it, which is a gross oversimplification but you didn't come here for a lecture.

[ Damn, but it feels pretty good to not hide what she can do. Screw anonymity, she's nowhere near Earth and its mutant registration act, and she is going to be completely and unashamedly herself. ]

I'm mentioning these things because I'm going to be needing a job pretty soon, so I figured I should put myself out there. Thank you for listening.

[ Her expression shifts into something a bit more amused, and at the same time sort of sad. ]

Oh, and if you have any good hangover remedies? Feel free to share them.

[ She's asking for a friend.

No, seriously, she is. ]

shadowblends

[The video feed flickers to life, although there is currently nothing that is recognizable. Everything looks shadowed and tinted gray, like something is covering the TAB up.

A faint sound of footsteps, some other shuffling noises, then the camera shifts as the darkness is lifted away, revealing Kurt staring down at the device. Honestly, he looks a mess, clothes and hair disheveled, eyes rimmed red and bloodshot for some reason.

For the longest time, the cobalt-tinted mutant says nothing, simply stares blearily at the TAB, one hand still holding the blanket that'd been blocking the view before. Kurt opens his mouth, hesitates then sighs heavily, head dipping forward in defeat.] He's gone, [he whispers, barely audible, despite the fact it's eerily quiet, wherever he's at.

He releases the blanket without much care as to if the video is still going or not and the lightest footsteps can be heard retreating, but they don't disappear. Alternatively, there's a rather loud thud before the feed finally clicks off.

That was just Kurt, hitting the floor. Everything is totally fine. (No, it's not.)]

dreamkid

[ The video shows a pleasantly cheerful boy, all golden curls and dimples, very comfortable in front of the camera. He's outside, a large field stretching out behind him, and he gives a friendly wave as he starts talking. ]

Hey, hey guys!

[ The camera turns, Matthew disappears, and after a split second of blurry grass and flowers, this 170lb creature appears. The dog gives a happy boof, sitting up and wagging its enormous tail, and Matthew laughs delightedly from offscreen. ]

What should I name my dog?

frankensteinian

[It would seem that someone has just been handed a copy of the welcome guide -- and instructed on a few basics, or he wouldn't know how to transmit this video -- and it would seem, also, that he is not entirely impressed by what he found in the guide. The video is just wide enough of an angle to show what appears to be a smear of blood on his shirt.]

It's nice. Someone clearly put a lot of work into it. It's not exactly helpful though, is it?

[It seems to have glossed over quite a few things, or ignored them entirely.]

For instance, for all the trouble it goes to to tell us where we are now, it says nothing about how we get home again.

[He'd really like to get back there. He's got ~~people to kill~~ things to do.]

Or even how we got here. Which is what I'd really like to know.

[Is someone messing with him?]

brochtuarach

[ When the recording begins, the only thing viewers will see is a flash of red hair (with perhaps a bit of grey), and the only thing heard will be - well, not English. He's obviously cursing quietly to himself, though hard to say if anyone will be able to recognize it as Gaelic.

Finally, his face will appear - handsome, high cheekbones, blue eyes, slanted a bit almost like a cat's, and a couple days' worth of stubble on his jaw. He's dressed old-fashioned, and when he speaks again it's English this time - but English heavily accented, to the extent that those unfamiliar with Scots might find it difficult to understand him at first. ]

Och, is this it then? I'd not like to be talkin' to myself, but I was told this is how to find work.

[ A pause. He taps the screen for good measure, then shrugs. ]

My name is Alexander Malcolm, lately of Edinburgh. There, I was a printer, but I've also experience as a soldier, and in animal husbandry. Though I dinna ken if anyone has any stables here worth the name.

[ He waves that off. ]

I'll work to earn my keep, and happy to do so. [ Here he pauses, and rubs his jaw a bit. ] And if anyone kens where to find shaving implements, I would be much obliged. I thank ye, for your time.

knaval

Uh-- is this working? Hello?

[the screen picture is perfectly showing riptide's panicked expression.]

I have absolutely no idea-- uh. My name is Riptide! I was with the crew of the Moira, but now I have no idea where I am. Crazy, right? I think I passed out? I have no idea. Anyway, this is a call for help! I've been approached by people and-- it's awful! I need an extraction immediately!

[he groans dramatically.]

They want me to get a job! [he was recommended to get a job.] A job! Like-- like being employed somewhere! Being paid to have responsibilities! I think one of them even said I can buy a-- a place to live?! I... I need to sit down. I have literally been tortured before and I've never, at this exact moment, been more uncomfortable in my entire life!

notthemaniwas

[Charles, for now, is dressed casually, a dark tee-shirt and dress pants, trying to appear as comforting a figure as possible but also professional.]

I'm sure a number of you recall me from the Midway Hub, seeking to keep a number of us gifted individuals together. I've made sure to secure us a home, as close a replica as possible to Xavier's School in New York as possible, and I am extending an invitation to everyone that has gifts of a sort to join us in living there if you would like.

[He pans his tab to show the Kauto X-Mansion before focusing on himself again.]

I'm sure there are a number of concerns some of you might have, I'll do my best to answer whatever I can.

I also intend for this to also act as a school. So if you have abilities, and are concerned regarding your control, lack of or any kind of difficulty, our doors will be open to you.

tearsinajar

I feel like, with everything that's going on, I've lost track of time.

I mean, we've been on a ship for so long, we've gone on a few planet trips, and then there was that whole— [ Elena waves a hand, dismissive. Only because that's a difficult one to process. ] —year thing. Or at least I think it was a year.

Not only that but we've gone and swapped out captains, most of us have survived a ship crash landing or two, and Lord knows what else.

But in all of that— and yes, there's a point to this— how are you supposed to celebrate a birthday when you've barely had any time to sit down and process everything? When you sit down and keep asking yourself, "What day is it?" or "What month are we at?" or better yet— "How old am I again?"

[ Like the song What's my age again? ]

I really doubt this place has a bar with decent male strippers.

[ A tiny pause. She makes a face. Oh god. ]

...what if they're alien male strippers? What am I supposed to do with that?

deconstruct

[ well this has fuck all to do with either the holidays or cave spelunking, but here we go. ]

is anyone here a catholic priest? or any kind of priest?

or someone who can marry people, i guess?

asking for a friend.

actually asking for a friend. don't start having an aneurysm, alva, put up your wallet.

alterplex

[ Brevity is a virtue of Venom's: he doesn't mince words when he throws his very concise, very curt statement up onto the network, staying pragmatic for the sake of time. It's a bit of a deviation from his standard to rely on text for communication, but he's in a bit of a bind right now. ]

Don't wander near West Leslie’s Fish Market and Creatatorium. It's one tourist trap you're gonna want to avoid.

[ He's absolutely not going to say that something fishy is going on because that pun is terrible, but it's implied. Heavily.

Actually, you know what, a picture is worth a thousand words: he sends a photo attachment approximating the area he's stumbled into, which he figures should speak for itself. A dim room with people strapped onto a bed, hooked up to suspicious-looking fluids; not exactly a vote of confidence cast in favor of this colony. ]

Try to exercise discretion.

(( OOC: this is a post to let people know about this plot right here! feel free to ask him about deets (he's still there, in this weird fishroom, texting and trying to figure out a gameplan), and feel free to drop in here to give him backup!

if you want to plot anything, go ahead and PM me or PP me at

deuil as well! depending on what happens here, i'll be setting up a starter on the event log post— hit me up with anything and everything, peeps, i'm def here for all your input! ♥ ))

warandpeace

☄Audio

[Around the colony there are signs for something called the C.I.S.M. (the Cease Intergalactic Slavery Movement). There's little more than the occasional pamphlet peddling samaritan or some billboards that announce the problem to newcomers or remind acquiescing residents of their guilt. Kaz has the good fortune to happen across their headquarters, a series of (what he feels is entirely too prone) white tents with well-meaning volunteers.]

[It's really a tragic effort. And after the ship's first adventures in the Runoff slavery outpost it seems it's pretty important that the crew do something about it. At least that's his logic for aiding them. After all, in the event they're taken it's not like the crew has much proof of identity. No one can come after them if they're captured and sold if they're not rescued before the ship leaves. They'd be lost.]

[Miller's plan is to beef up their resources, give them better tools to go on the offensive. But he wants to be a little bit discrete about the plan. Just enough for some sliver of plausible deniability. Asking if people want to be involved in the organization's cause? He'll just see who gets lured in. Maybe he can find some smugglers and military trainers.]

There's a small group here. Some grassroots efforts against slavery. I figured they could use a little help around here. Come by if you have the time and are interested. Contact me privately if you're not sure where it is and I'll tell you how to get here from your location, especially if you've noticed some trafficking activity where you're at.

There's not much they can do right now. The rules here are a little ambiguous, but they seem pretty certain that this is a persisting problem they would like to stop.

[He'll just wait to see who bites.]

OOC: This and this are the plotting threads concerning the C.I.S.M. He'll want to know safe businesses and homes for slaves to hide at, get aid in transporting people, and find people that can train them some guerrilla troops for some good espionage efforts. You're safe to assume word of mouth can reach your characters if you want them pulled in by someone else. Back-dated to soon after their arrival.

wordstoliveby

Greetings to the Crew,

I try to make this notice every few months in case people are unaware. My name is Harry Hart and I am the ship's tailor. I am here to ensure that your uniforms fit properly and comfortably. I would have made this announcement sooner but it seems that I let time slip away from me this past month as it were. Please do not hesitate to come to me if you need alterations to your current garments to make them fit properly. This is a basic right everyone on board deserves and I'll do my best to help you.

I also provide more casual garments when I have free time from performing alterations. I've made a habit of stocking up on fabric as well as basic clothing items for those who arrive with fewer personal possessions than others. These services of course dependent on maintaining a stock of goods ans fabrics and while I would never charge for them I would appreciate it if when you take advantage of them that you restock things at your convenience. This way I can continue to make sure things run smoothly. If you have any more unusual requests please feel free to contact me via MID and we can surely come to an arrangement for what you need.

I am at your service,
Harry Hart

alan_1

[The video opens on Alan, eyes going from the MID camera to something offscreen.]

Hello everyone. This is Alan Bradley. I, uh, seem to have been sent something through the Ingress.

[The camera shifts outward and you manage to catch the barest glimpse of something small and blue before it flies offscreen, accompanied by a single word in a tuneless, buzzing voice.

”No!”]

Hey, hold still a second-- it’s just a camera!

[There’s another blur of blue as the object zips closer and then finally comes to a standstill in front of the MID, almost as if it’s inspecting it. The shape is more-or-less round and about the size of a grapefruit and though it’s no longer zooming around the room, its surface is still in constant motion, blue angles and planes forming and reforming at a constant rate.]

See? Nothing to be afraid of. [”...No.” The word is accompanied by a startling change in shape and color, the object flashing sharp and red before returning to a neutral blue.]

Right, [Alan says, keeping both his eyes and the camera on the hovering shape.] I’m… really not sure what it could be, but it’s been following me around for the past couple of hours. And the captains seem to think it’s mine for whatever reason. [”Yes!” the shape agrees, this time flashing smooth and yellow, its flat voice sounding somehow cheerful.

Alan continues:] It says it’s not any kind of robot-- [”No” the shape concurs.] Or program-- [”No.”] Or an organic-- [”Nononono!”] So I don’t think I’m getting it right anytime soon, [Alan finishes, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated at the constant interruptions.

The camera turns back towards Alan -- though he’s quickly joined by the shape hovering over his shoulder.] I’m recording this video in case any of you might recognize what it is. Or if you have any educated guesses. You can ask it questions too, so long as they can be answered with yes or no. I’m sure you figured that out already.

[So… anyone up for 20Q?]

heisenbitch

Uh. So, uh. What up!

[ Skinny, scrawny guy on the video feed here. Jesse is trying to appear confident, together, like he ain't bothered by any of the shit that's been going on, or the fact that he's apparently lost an entire freakin' year of his life partying with a bunch of mantis freaks. There's something wide-eyed and twitchy about him, though. Off-screen, his leg is jiggling up and down anxiously.

He might be high. Because waiting for him in the mail was a whole two ounces of meth, and what was the first thing Jesse did after spending a while staring at the two baggies of crystal, trying to will away the gnawing temptation to take a bump? He slammed a bump. Lit up that meth pipe that had been shipped in the mail with the meth when his willpower finally caved. What better way to try and drown out how scared he is and how much he wishes like hell Mr. White was here, because Mr. White would know what to do.

Of course, Jesse might not seem high to look at over the video feed. Just anxious and on edge. In fact, that's pretty much exactly how he's coming across. ]

Uh. So, uh. Name's Jesse, yo. I'm, uh. Guess I'm kinda one of the newer kids on the block around here.

[ Pausing a moment while he smears his hand down his face and rubs the back of his neck. That hand drops away as he fixes his attention back on the screen. ]

Anyway, um. I'm-I'm all outta smokes, and I was wondering if, uhh. If anybody's got any smokes to spare. Like, cigarettes. Or… whatever.

[ Another pause. Another anxious rub of the back of his neck. He so badly wants to say something about… everything. Those mantis people. The fact that they'd been drugged. The fact that he's a year older, just like that. Not to mention all the goddamn robots and other weird shit he's still trying to wrap his puny brain around. But instead… ]

I'll… I'll find a way to pay you back. Dunno how yet, but I'll think of something. Um. So, yeah. Just. Lemme know or whatever. No problem if nobody's got any.

wallride

Hey, ya'll! DJ Lúcio comin' at ya! How's everyone settling back in? I'm sure you all aged gracefully. Now, originally me and Mettaton were gonna surprise you guys in a month or so with a rave, but... [his expression goes hollow for a moment.] I think we'll scrap that for now. That being said, if anyone needs help with anything, just give me a buzz. I'm always around.

[lúcio never wants to party again and he has a sneaking suspicion every single crew member might feel the same.]

I have a couple things to update you guys on, anyway! For some reason, a ton of new music came through the Ingress and the kind workers in mail addressed it to yours truly. I'll use it to give you guys some variety to listen to! If it makes just one crew member feel a little better, then I'll count it as a wild success. If anyone wants a song or twelve sent to their MID, let me know.

[his tone grows somber.]

Secondly... I can't find Trish around or on the MID. Doesn't seem like she's on the roster anymore. She was a truly inspired individual and a pleasure to work with, so I'm sorry if you knew her. This next song is for you, girl.

((just a quick reminder that i made a ooc post last month about what to expect on the radio and how it could possibly used to icly spread information and be a spark for CR. i'll try to make a more comprehensive post about it on lúcio's journal at some point this weekend because i'm meticulous and have nothing better to do /gunfingers))

sketchycharacter

All right, I'm done pretending we're not collectively acting like a bunch of hippies at a weed convention. Yeah, the party is nice and all, but has anyone stopped to think about what the hell is happening here?

[The dancing, the partying, the getting sexy in public-to-barely-private locations. He's actually seen people relax who never, ever relax, and that might be the creepiest part.]

I'm just gonna say it. We've been drugged. And it feels like I'm the only one who's come down from it.

[Granted, this is way better than the last ~~two~~ times he was drugged, but it's still freaking him out.]

Look, if there's anyone out there who hasn't already told me 'oh Nate it's no big deal just have a drink and enjoy yourself,' please let me know. I talked to Thán, and if there's any hinky shit that anyone's noticed, we should bring it back to the Moira. Personally I think we should all go back to the beach and wait there, but I've given up on convincing people of that. I just want to figure out what's going on.

( ooc plot relevant info )

Entries tagged with breaking bad: jesse pinkman

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