thisavrou

[The video, marked as recording from Shepard's public network ID, cuts in suddenly, with little ceremony. Moving with the person it's attached to, but otherwise stable, it shows several helpful readouts along the bottom: temperature, length, time, date. It's clear from the timestamp that this feed had been previously recording—and has only just switched to live broadcast.

The scene viewers tuning in are greeted with is, effectively, Avagi's worst nightmare realized. Metal, flaked and cracked, scatters through a hallway which is filled—or filling—with the chaotic rush of the storm from the space beyond, howling with a familiar hungry emptiness. The noise sandblasts the recording with a static scream, void tearing at the edges of human hearing.

And there, barely visible for a blurry beat or more in the middle of it all, is a thin, terrifying figure, dark and drawn. For a minute, it seems to focus its impossibly vacant eyes on you—but that's impossible, you're on the other end of a recording device—before it seems as if the horrifying storm was merely playing tricks on you. That there was never anything there at all.

(Or perhaps, it's simply somewhere else.)

Despite the storm's raging, on all sides of the recording, movement can be seen, sounds heard; people are making an effort to pull bodies back, away from the storm. Various skills and abilities can be seen on display, as people attempt to repel the storm, push it back for long enough to retreat—including a dome of blue energy, seeming to originate from the near-shakycam holder herself. Competing with the volume of the grating storm, Shepard's barking orders can just be heard, in a tone that brooked no arguments:]

Ingress memorial! Fall back! NOW!

[Whatever steady hand was present prior is sacrificed entirely for movement speed, camera swinging left and right as Shepard sweeps, clears, and makes for the door. It's not until the door is closed, locked, and securely sealed that there's a beat, an exhale, and a refocusing of the camera—on an Ingress memorial full of trapped Avagi residents.]

[ooc note: both home and away team, feel free to jump into any and all threads to answer questions, or ask some of your own!]

culver

[this is clearly shot in the chemistry block, because there is water dripping from the ceiling and seeping through the baseboards. nill has the a.c.e. in one hand, and a pile of blankets in the other. she's trying to reorganize things on her side of the room she shares with laura so their possessions don't get soaked. there are a few fancy dresses shoved up on a shelf, as well as a gun and a kinfe.

nill herself is dressed far too impractically for what she's trying to do, but it isn't as if she has a lot of clothing to choose from. she's on her tip-toes, her thumb having slipped over the a.c.e.'s video function as she tries to keep it and the blankets in her other arm from the water that is rapidly pooling on the floor. she steps first across a chair and then up to a desk, and her foot lands in a puddle on the tabletop.

immediately, she slips. the blankets go flying as she windmills her arms to keep her balance, her wings flaring and flapping behind her. still, she falls into the water back-first, still managing to keep the a.c.e. above the waterline if not the rest of her.

nill sits up, soaked from the crown of her blonde head all the way down to her mary janes. her wings flap out uselessly behind her, the feathers slapping wetly against her back. only now does she realize the a.c.e. is recording, and she figures she might as well finish this shitty day off with a concise message:]

This sucks.

stantheman

I really like birds. My favorite is the evening grosbeak male but the female is pretty cool too.

One of my friends is teaching me how to make bird sounds but I really suck at it and I'm still trying to do the first one she showed me. I'm better at bird watching.

What's your favorite animal? Do you have a hobby you that's related to them?

That's another thing I love about birds. It's a whole thing.

clussy

(You know who is not going to react to this situation decently no matter how many times it's explained to him? Eddie. You know who doesn't have a good game face against fear? Also Eddie. He's alone, he needs an adult, and he's pretty sure they don't restock on inhalers here. He knew he didn't need it, not technically, but he also knew that his lungs were contracting at a rate that lead to hyperventilating and as far as he was concerned, that was exactly what an asthma attack was all about. He was having an asthma attack. Maybe. His body was thinking about it.

By the way, he's definitely just been staring at the video for a couple of silent seconds, his jaw working back and forth as he just tried to remind himself that he was actually capable of breathing. This kid......)

My mom's going to fucking kill me.

(The words are whispered under his breath and he would think twice about swearing if he realized how many adults might be watching this video. He was enough of a loser that he could get the whole communication device thing, really, that was fine. But he wasn't quite able to wrap his mind around the full extent of it all.

After a second, he decides fuck it. He needs his inhaler. It goes up, he gives it a few shakes, and takes a deep, deep breath in with it. Holds. Holds.

Then his whole body deflates, his eyes rolling up. He closes his eyes and thinks about how he would talk to the police in Derry. Ha. If that wasn't the biggest fucking joke ever. When he speaks next, his voice is pitched higher than before, that typical 'I'm trying super hard to be polite and endearing' voice that he uses to call his mom 'mommy' when he's real apologetic. He's not even trying to be a suck up. The kid's just scared.)

Um. My name's Eddie Kaspbrak. I'm Sonia Kaspbrak's son and I definitely need to be home for dinner which is like, in an hour. So if anyone can help...I would really appreciate it.

.....God, I really hope this isn't that creep who was taking all those kids.

squadgoals

[A new video post pings on your cool new communication device! It opens automatically, but seems to display the option for text-based, too, if you'd prefer not to have to watch or listen. An attachment is also present. The camera clicks on, centered on the head and shoulders of a woman with a military bearing, at ease—but no less businesslike.]

Hello all, and thank you for taking the time to listen to me. I've provided a text transcription, for those who'd prefer it.

To those of you who don't know me, my name is Shepard. Before Thisavrou, I lived on board the Moira, the ship many of us were pulled to—but before the Moira, I grew up on, and lived aboard ships and man-made satellites my entire life—and if there's one thing they've always consistently needed, it's routine maintenance, and reliable, ship or station-wide communication.

I know many of you have already taken the repair and renewal of this station into your own hands, and that just goes to show what an incredible group of people we have on board right now. The teamwork that went into the development of the new communication devices are a clear tribute to that effort. But while a lot of this has been accomplished simply via word-of-mouth, going forward, it would be good to have a public list of who is working on what, and where.

The goal is to compile a clear record of where people are at—so we know what areas require more help, or who people can contact if they want to volunteer to assist. What I'm not looking to do is push people into roles they're not comfortable with taking—this is all volunteer-based, to build our current home into something better.

So: here's the categories and areas I have so far: General station cleanup, including organization, pest control, and so on. Sanitation and life support, including air, water, and waste maintenance. Medical, including cryo technology. Technology and engineering, including maintenance and improvements. Bartering block occupants. Greenhouse and garden, including maintenance and improvements. General security, including guarding, shifts rota and patrols. Sports and leisure, including the bar, gym, and sundry entertainment areas.

Please feel free to add to that, and please let me know if I've forgotten anything. Once again, I am not any kind of authority on this—this is strictly a publicly-available volunteer chart, and I am merely providing the space for us to organize it in one place. You don't have to take part, or even acknowledge me in the slightest. I have avoided filling out any names ahead of time to allow people to place themselves where they feel they fit best, or where they have already been active.

Once again, thank you for your time, and I hope to hear from all of you soon. If you have any questions, comments, or otherwise, feel free to message me directly, or come by and talk to me in person. I currently reside in Sector... [There's a pause—had she ever said it out loud?—but there's no change in her professional demeanor as she continues:] ...Sad Cat, Unit 8-10. I look forward to meeting with you.

[The video clicks off, but the text transcription stays visible—as does the attached sheet with all the categories she listed. The blanks go on and on, inviting you to fill them out yourself, with zero limits—adding other people you know, or volunteering yourself!]

[OOC: HERE'S THAT CHART AGAIN, and if you just want to fill it out without replying—no issue at all! This is just Shepard's own on-network attempt to organize some widely-visible revival efforts to help get people involved! If any major changes or decisions go down, remember to let the mods know over here!]

nyxus

[The TAB is new but the technology is familiar enough he is confident as he opens up a video feed, to whomever might be out there listening. Nyx scratches his cheek lightly as he looks ahead with a small, crooked smile.]

Hello, world.

I'm Nyx.

[He looks as if he's going to laugh before too long. It's just a little awkward being alone in his apartment talking to a device he's not even sure is actually broadcasting anywhere.]

Alright so, I found the gym somewhere. [If he can find it again is another story. It's only been a week, this place is gigantic.]

But what I'm really looking for is someone experienced in combat to train with. I'm new here, so I can't pay you.

Uh. [Nyx thinks a moment wondering what else to say.] Knife, and hand-to-hand combat. Thanks.

readytocomply

[Before Bucky starts the video, he makes sure it's broadcasting to all of Thisavrou. The Moirans, Savrii, anyone that might be visiting. His expression is passive, reserved even, but his tone is firm.]

I'm gonna make this quick as I can. Most of the people here are from somewhere else. Different universes, different ways of doing things.

[His eyes narrow.]

But what's wrong is wrong and what's right is right.

[Even after what he's been through, he can still tell the difference.]

I wasn't on the Moira when the slavers took some of us, but I heard about them after. We've visited worlds that treat people like shit because they want to. They take advantage and they hurt carelessly. So far this place hasn't been that way. Everyone is nice. [Something that makes him wary, still.] But if anyone, and I mean anyone, starts treatin' robots like they're soul-less. Worthless. Nothing. They'll have to answer to me. Same goes for anyone else, robot or otherwise.

Everyone deserves to be treated fairly, got it?

[It's not a direct threat, but it's close. He knows some people won't like it, but they can come talk to him if they don't. He doesn't like the attention this might get him, but he knows it's a point worth making. Something he knows certain people need to hear. He cuts the feed.]

[ooc: all responses will come in the form of a text message.]

prespangled

[technology like this is easier to learn the second time around. so steve rogers, product of the 1940's, takes to the tab like a duck to water.]

Just when I thought I couldn't get any farther from Brooklyn, I end up on another planet. But between the cave and all those Flash Gordon comics that my buddy and I used to read, maybe I should've seen this one coming.

[speaking of buddies:]

My name's Steve Rogers. I'm looking for anyone who might've ended up here with me, or maybe knew me before that. [steve frowns, brows thoughtfully furrowed.] Or...after that, I guess. I hear I look a little bit different then.

I'd also rather not waste any time when it comes to pulling my own weight, but I'd like to do that while also helping others. If anyone knows of jobs that can do both, I'm all ears. Thanks.

retrovirion

[ hey look it's the corner of a bedroom. like. the top corner? there's pictures on the wall in the background but you really can't see much more than peter around where he's stuck the TAB to the wall. ]

Hey everyone! I had this project I was working on, back home, for school. I figured I didn't wanna get too rusty so I decided to recreate and then finish it here. [ shh he doesn't like school. he honestly doesn't miss homework but sometimes you learn cool things! ] So, yeah! I, uh, put it up for downloading. It's a game, by the way. It's a rough draft, and it was - well it was a school project so there were some specific elements that were supposed to be included, and I'm definitely gonna start over-explaining it if I keep going with that idea, so I guess if anybody wants to check it out for me then they can find it here. I didn't put a charge on it or anything since it's the first one I've ever finished, so I guess if you like it then just let me know? Or if you don't like it.

[ soooooooooooo

yeah. wave bye to the camera.

(ooc note: maybe double-check your volume before you start playing. good luck) ]

readytocomply

[It's not the same as before where he'd woken up with a light breeze on his skin causing his too-long hair to dance across his forehead, and the sweet, dry smell of fruit trees. No, it's blue light and too much wind. There's nothing normal about that. The communication device strapped to his hand is cold. Bucky's used to not remembering things, but the long hall and unfamiliar faces tell him something's off. There's a million explanations going through his mind and none of them make any sense except one and he doesn't want to think about that.

Bucky goes through the motions. Steels himself while he's checked out. Signs the contract. Lets someone take him to his room and then walks the halls. Now back in his room, he clicks on the MID. His face is half-hidden and voice low. He wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't necessary. He's combed every inch of this goddamn ship and he can't find Steve anywhere.]

I'm looking for someone. Tall. Blond. Loves America.

[It's risky to put it out there. He doesn't know these people and trust isn't something he gives easily. But he needs to find someone he remembers. Someone from Wonderland. Someone from back home. Everything is muddled and this place looks like something his mind has made up.]

His name's Steve.

[There's a brief pause.]

If someone could tell me what the hell's going on here, I'd appreciate it.

[The feed cuts off.]

[ooc: this bucky is a crau from another game. he thinks that he never left his previous game world and that it is during an 'event'. i'm so sorry if he confuses anyone.]

procedures

[ His is a familiar face, if a lot more groomed in terms of facial hair. Alva's wearing the medbay colors, the gold bar on his clothes visible against a borrowed coat, as well as a serious look on his face. He's got his arms crossed too, with the sleeves pulled a third of the way up. ]

Just to get it out of the way first, my name's Alva. I'm not Rogers or Gant. I'm not related to them. I don't have a surname, and I don't have superpowers. That's not the point of this video, though.

Currently I'm assigned to the Medbay as a physician. No specialty, I'm assuming. But before I came on board this ship, I was working as a lab tech at a medical facility where part of my duties included taking care of specific— ["Patients"? Val's not a patient; he was born in the labs. ] Wards, as individuals or as groups, depends on the need. I guess you could say I was also a nurse, of a sort.

My point is— one of my wards is here. His name is Valarie Milos. [ He raises picture of Val, printed out, to the camera. ] I believe some of you have met him.

So you're probably wondering, "why does a young man like him need a nurse for?" He isn't that old. He's only six. I've been looking after him since he was small, and as I've not been reassigned from that duty, I'm going to continue doing so on this ship. Please don't give him any alcohol, any sweets, anything spicy. He'll make himself sick. He is not, under any circumstances, supposed to lift anything heavier than ten kilos in weight. If you find him injured or hurt in any way, please contact me immediately.

And please don't give him any more cats.

—On a related note, if anyone has any specific allergies, please let us at the medbay know. At your convenience, but preferably sooner than later. We're trying to assess how much anti-allergens we have on hand relative to the ship's population, but some of the data seems a little out of date.

Thank you.

springlocking

[Charlie looks like a mess - her slightly frizzy hair now strongly resembles a Pomeranian, there are the beginnings of circles under her eyes, and her right eye is now yellow glass. Being in actual combat and dying and death seriously not being permanent have not done good things to her brain.

But she's not going to talk about that. Instead, she's gonna ask, in a slightly out-of-it tone:]

...did I miss anything? 'Side from classes - sorry to the teachers, by the way, but I was kinda dead. Can't... [She covers a yawn.] ...can't attend class when you're dead. Or reviving. I think.

How does it all work, anyway? How long's it take until you get used to it?

[She's maybe a bit too sleepy, it seems...]

dust_of_life

[As always, Fatima's painted her makeup on about an inch thick before addressing the network. And given that this is an extra special announcement, she'd done up her hair in a librarian bun and chosen her most respectable outfit.

Or, at least, what she considers respectable, coming from 2009 Los Angeles: It's a red blazer and short, leather miniskirt, showing off her lovely and shapely legs.

...Los Angeles. What are you gonna do?

But, really, it's never the clothes or the makeup that contribute most to her costuming. It's the attitude, the emphasis on devil-may-care, I've-seen-it-all, too-jaded-to-ever-be-wide-eyed-again. She has it down to an art. If she says so herself.]

Okay, so. Hi. Fatima Merali here. I'm now lord high poo-bah of the hydroponics initiative or something. Which means I'm gonna be in charge of growing us fruits and vegetables. Assuming we don't all go down in a fireball of death.

...could we maybe not go down in a fireball of death? Because that would be super.

Anyway, while I'm truly badass when it comes to gardening, I don't know if I'm badass enough to provide for the dietary needs of everyone on board all by myself. So, I guess I'm looking to see if any of you would be interested in joining me in the initiative. The captains seem to be cool with it, since they let me get out of an otherwise hilariously awful job situation so...

Just something to think about. Here to answer your questions. I have nowhere else to be.

dislocked

Anesthetist required. Or anyone with a working knowledge of barbiturates.

vengeance_driven

☄ Audio
Look, I still want to go for peace on this. I don't want to attack these people, they have lost a whole fucking world of shit already. So I am going to ask for something.

I want a story from your past. Something I can share, something that makes you you. Stories were important to them. Past experiences were important to them. It shouldn't give away anything on the ship, just something that is important to the past. Your past. If there is art you can do, a particular talent, something that is creative, give me this. A picture. A recording.

If you're not interested in avoiding a fight, just go do whatever. Lick on a gun barrel for twenty minutes. Warning, they taste bad. But for the ones that want to try? Do me this favor. Avoiding a repeat of Cadacus Primary is why I asked for this job in the first place.

[He'll... try to avoid arranged marriages this time.]

sonywalkman

Look, this "You killed my father, prepare to die" routine is all well and good (and yawn worthy), but I have an idea.

[In the back of his mind, he's thinking of Rocket telling him this is absolutely stupid, but then, so is this whole scenario. Dumb raccoon, being probably right. The inner-conflict registers on his face, but he doesn't remark on any of it. The "probably right" doesn't matter. Not in the face of (maybe) living.]

I don't know what happened, I don't even really care what happened. But I sure like living, so just...hear me out. We challenge them.

[He shakes his head, and his other hand at the MID.] Not like how you're thinking though. As a distraction. Seriously, two words, and just think about it alright?

Dance off.

[Yes, he does, in fact, look entirely serious about this.]

skelepun

[Solemn silence reigns for the first few moments of the broadcast. A shuffle of papers, a clearing of his throat -- or technically, a very good impersonation of it. There's no throat to clear. Anyway.]

Okay, so. I know there's been a lot of back and forth lately, kids. And I don't wanna add to the tension, but as long as we're ripping off band aids? I figure there's no time like the present.

[Another deep breath. Clearly, this is weighing heavily on the guy.]

I'm gonna say a few words that'll mean a lot to you guys. Bran. Oatmeal. Raisins. Words that should never even brush against the word muffin. And yet every Saturday, seems like those are the only muffins I see. I'm not gonna point fingers or anything. I dunno if the blame lies with the people taking the decent pastries or the persons allowing those ingredients to infect perfectly good muffins in the first place, but it's a tragic miscarriage of judgment and for the safety of the crew, I think it's important we all address the massive, raisin dotted elephant in the room.

I'm mean, jeez, guys. There are kids on this ship. What if they mistake them for chocolate chips? We're all responsible if we do nothing. Get it together, Moira.

[Another deep breath. He's said his peace. When he speaks again, it's as if a completely different person is grinning into the mic.]

And hey, as long as we're all here, feel free to air your various grievances too. Y'know, to save the Captains their bandwidth. Let it all out.

abide

[ When the feed begins, Steve's face is relatively solemn the thirty seconds before he decides on what to say. There's plenty to address, and he doesn't want to drag it out needlessly. It seems their "captains" have done a good job of that so far. ]

There's been a lot of talk lately. [ He pauses, collects his thoughts again. ] From what's been said, I know most of us aren't happy with the situation, and that's okay. It's not a normal position to be put in. For some of us, anyway. But it's also important to remember the goal we should be working towards, and that's getting home. Not all of us are gonna want to go, but the majority seems to be in agreement.

Whether we trust those in command or not, we shouldn't forget that. Fighting or killing isn't going to solve the problem. Calling people out for things they've done in our own world or someone else's is only going to cause fires, and we should be trying to put 'em out. Not start them. [ He takes a breath, expression still relatively neutral. He's not pushing, not angry or worked up. If anything, he just looks... sad.

If those running the ship won't say it, he will. ] Some of you aren't going to listen, and some of you might be too scared to have a voice. That's fine too. Not everyone's willing to see eye-to-eye, but this isn't just about us. It's about the ones we've left behind, the people who are counting on us to make it back to them. Fear can do a lot of things, and right now, it's got us right where we shouldn't be. So... [ Another small breath. ] If you ever need someone to stand with you, fight for you— that's what I plan to do. Back home, it was my job to help keep everyone safe, and being on the Moira means this is my home now. It's all of ours, and we should be protecting it, not trying to destroy it. Or each other.

Even if it's not what I was assigned to here, I'm not gonna quit. I'll be around if anyone considers taking me up on that. [ Uh. ] My name's Steve Rogers. Thanks for your time.

[ And it immediately ends there, the lingering hint of a soft smile settling at the corner of his mouth. ]

seeingscarlet

Has anyone gone through this Ingress and tried to change something? Was it different when you went back?

[She sighs and glances away, reluctant to say too much at first because then she'd have to explain what exactly she did and then people would be afraid. Not having to deal with that has been...nice.]

It keeps taking me home, to somewhere I know was destroyed. I think I can save it, but not in one trip. Not unless I can find the right person.

Entries tagged with mcu: james buchanan barnes

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