thisavrou

[ so

GUESS WHO'S NERVOUS

also second, "guess who" but more literally, because this message contains only the TAB signature of one lady hawke - peter knows better than to connect his own TAB to his spider-man stuff, okay.

third guess (the charm) who's totally playing it off by being a cool guy, having totally hit record on the TAB remotely, so he's already squared off inside the video feed. congratulations to a head-and-shoulders view of some person in tight red and blue, head-to-apparently-toe spandex. as though spandex has any other possible adjective but 'tight'.

still, the same adjective could be applied to the posture, or at least what's visible. it's at least a... loose kind of tight? or something??

anyway, there's the kind of wave you do when you're either about to start a school project, or your great aunt josephine is giving you a thumbs up from afar for whatever weird family reunion cousin sack race you're about to do. ]

Hey everyone!

This is - [ uhh ] - just me. Spider-Man. Just saying, like. I think some people might have had some stuff missing when they evac'd, or whenever they tried to move around, I guess. Or maybe not, I - it's not like I talked to everyone. Either way, like. If you need stuff - your own stuff, please - moved around, or you want someone to keep an eye out for something, or you just need stuff - I can help with that! Or like if you need help getting here to there specifically, or have to move something really heavy, or - now I'm rambling, sorry. If you want help in general. I can't promise everything, but I can promise I'll try. At least, as much as I can.

[ that's what being a superhero is all about anyway, right? he's been slacking since he got here. ]

...........like, not just right now, I mean. All the time. I can be helpful all the time. This was a weird time to do this, wasn't it?

[ the feed cuts off a handful of hurriedly-over-analyzed seconds later. ]

seeingscarlet

( private to X-mansion crew + Avengers )

otiosity

[The video feed flicks on to show Hawke sitting at a table. Covering the table are all sorts of circuit boards, wires, a laptop, various tools. You know, the things that you see and you go "this person must be some kind of tech genius". She's also wearing glasses. They make her look like hipster garbage.

Finally, there's a little handwritten note on the edge of the desk that says Hawke Industries. The Hawke part seems like it used to say something else but it's been scribbled out. A name that starts with an S? Something like that.]

Hello fellow Moirans and those that were never on the Moira. Morianots? Never mind. Terminology isn't what's important here. What is important is all the shiny new abilities being passed around like the plague. Sorry to anyone who accidentally lit their breakfast on fire when they woke up a mage. But I bet it was hilarious for everyone else.

Anyway, my important announcement is that I'm a genius now. See? You can tell by the spectacles. [Oh that explains the glasses] I know all about computers, engineering, physics, renewable energy, artificial intelligence, and making suits out of metal. Which I won't do. Because, let's be honest, it's embarrassing.

So from now on you can direct all your technological questions to me. I'll answer them in a very overcomplicated and round about fashion with a slight bit of scorn for your inability to understand. But fear not, I'm prepared to throw myself on that sword for the sake of everyone here.

[And off goes the feed. Is she really going to actually fix shit or do anything? WHO KNOWS.
She's a wild card.]

inconsequence

[Ordinarily text is their preferred method of communication. It is simple, to the point, and allows them ample time to compose their response with as many polysyllabic words as possible, as if that might compensate for their apparent youth. But there is little to no time for that, now. So the transmission, when it occurs, is audio only.

The tone of the speaker is that of a child's - albeit a cold, brisk, and businesslike one.]

Some time ago, it seems that a significant portion of the Moira's crew, when it existed, was abducted by a group of interdimensional slavers. They were held against their will. Exploited for the purposes of others.

[A hiss of a match being struck, and the crackle of something being set alight, and the voice continues:]

There were children among them.

[A moment. A halting intake of breath, the fluid cadence of their speech disrupted. Muzzling the impulse that swells in their chest, the boiling ember of rage that eats at what passes for a SOUL, for one such as them. Expression flat, words dull. Control. Control. Always, control.

Speak as though nothing is wrong.]

I am transmitting the Ingress signature one may use to access this world. Those that possess a conscience, or those that simply wish to have something to fight - [The last word twists into something else, a live snake coiling into a promise.] - I would encourage you to take action.

private to METTATON:
The way is open. Try not to get killed.

[Attached is the Ingress signature. They've already wasted more words than he's worth, honestly, but if something should happen to him, both Frisk and Asriel will very likely have something to say about it.]

private to ASRIEL and FRISK:
I will be away on a mission of sorts for a few days. Do not worry about me, and please, do not follow. I am well equipped for the task.

[[ooc: head on down to the mingle log if u want to do a slaver ass-kicking]]

nicearsenal

[There is a really, really unpleasant banging noise, like someone's thwacking their tab against a rock because (surprise) that's exactly what this particular someone is doing. A feminine, Australian accented voice cuts in after a while.]

-would have been nice if they’d given us a bloody crash course in how to use these things. How do you even-

[There is jarring sound of static and then a burst of distortion as a finger jabs at the TAB]

-tell-

[Another jab and more distortion.]

-if it’s-

[One more jab and for some strange reason, the image feed is flipped upside down and everything is strangely… purple.]

-working?

[There’s a sigh, and then coming through the upside down, purple video feed there’s a woman with dark hair looking quizzically at the TAB with a furrowed brow until she sighs.]

Some week this is shaping out to be.

[She jabs at the tab again, and while the feed returns to right side up, it’s still conspicuously purple.]

Okay. I don’t get it. Never did go in much for the whole sci-fi thing. First person to tell me where I can get a beer and a back rub in that order is my new space best friend. Name’s Chloe by the way. Chloe Frazer.

[She squints at the tab and then rolls her eyes.]

Shit, did I break it? Fantastic...

[ooc: backdated to during week two!]

diamondhack

right so show of hands who would like to not die from a ship hurtling into the surface of a planet

i feel like those of us not feeling suicidal might be in a minority

just out of curiosity really

i want to get a good and proper headcount of everyone willing to stay alive

and yes go do whatever it is you've decided to do good job team go everyone for surviving another wreck i am very proud of you

[She's annoyed, and you get to be annoyed by her, or with her, whatever you're feeling! Even better, she may not even actually care about how you feel!

Isha would've done this sooner if she wasn't busy with her wounds getting treated. Waste of time, all of it.]

prorenataa

[ He'd meant to make this audio only but it was too much effort and when the video came up instead, Adrien couldn't be arsed to switch it out.

So have an image of one of your medical professionals, Moira crew. The right side of his face, particularly around the temple and orbital bone is a spectacular black, purple, red and shade of green and the bruising traces down across his cheek. He has butterfly bandages on a cut across the eyebrow, the edge of which disappears into his hair line. His right arm is (currently) in a sling, though he appears to be wriggling his way out of it.

Adrien looked pale; paler than usual, his freckles definitely on display across his otherwise ashen skin. Dark circles were imprinted under his eyes and he kept blinking, as if focusing was a bit of a bitch. Still, when he spoke, his voice was clear (if accented) and to the point. ]

Right that sucked.

We've secured a location and set up the medical tent, though if anyone has some impromptu spots set up, give a shout; especially if you need supplies. Otherwise, if you need treatment ... please seek it out.

[ Yes he said 'please'. Yes he has a major head wound. ]

Has anyone been able to get any sort of count on who is clear of the wreckage? Walking injured? Non-ambulatory injured and dead? We've got track of some of the cryo units but if you know of one, let someone know so we can try to get an accurate count.

[ Reaching up with his now freed right arm, Adrien rubbed at his injured temple, wincing. ]

We've got some supplies here at the tent; water and nutrition bars mostly. Does anyone know the state of the ship? What about our immediate situation? Can anyone tell if we can secure this location and hold it until we can stop the ringing in our ears?

[ Maybe it was just his ears?

Finally, the important question. ]

Any evidence that ... anything ... we saw on the trip here, followed us through?

otiosity

[The video feed flicks on to show Hawke's face, cheerful, as ever but the video feed is slightly bumpy, like she's currently in motion. Indeed, upon closer inspection, she's clearly moving backwards somewhere in the engineering room.]

Hello everyone. We're all a lovely community of people from all sorts of places and powers, so I've come to reach out for your advice and expertise in a place that I am completely unfamiliar with. It's like stumbling about in the dark with your eyes shut and then blindfolded on top of that.

Please tell a mage how exactly to speak robot? And don't say "make beeping noises", that sounds a bit rude and I've already tried it. Because I think this one-

[She flicks the feed to show a funny looking robot shaped a bit like an L with a camera/claw hand face following her around, beeping cheerfully, with a bundle of wires in its grip.]

I think it fancies me. And I've tried to explain, you're machine, I'm a mage our love can never be. It would end in nothing but sadness and sparks but I don't think-[There's a jump as the robot gets close and she quickly takes a large step back. For all her grins, she does seem a bit... uneasy] I don't think it's coming across. So pointers are much appreciated.

And I wouldn't have to bother any of you with this if someone, Tony Stark, would control his other employees. This is clearly... some sort of... [Her face scrunches as she looks for the right words from his dictionary to use] Hach Are violation.

notglitching

[So remember that cheery blonde asking people to come screw? Guess what! She's back on camera already. Only the call's coming from Rinzler's MID (didn't he kill her that one time?), and J looks to have undergone some fairly rapid... changes.

First? She's a technozombie!

Second? Extra dead.

Her skin is dull and grey, split apart in papery, cracked lines that show the glow of circuitry beneath. Her eyes are flat and hollow, glinting dimly in the light above, as if the switch behind them was burned out. Her head lolls to the side at a twisted, malformed angle, and the slice visible through one collarbone is oddly bloodless. What liquid does ooze out is black.

The camera lingers for a long moment, only the low ticking rumble of Rinzler's noise offscreen to break the silence. Then, several lines of text scroll out below the screen.]

Active virus detected.
Affects users. Infected subjects: hostile, attempting to spread.

[Shepard starts talking before she's on camera, allowing for the image to assist in her addition to Rinzler's information. Her voice is urgent, stern — and a touch strained.]

This is a red alert. Something on board is turning crew into beings called husks. They're the result of organic cells being replaced with psychological and physiological-controlling synthetic material.

[As the camera shifts to her, the source of the strain is clearer — she's attempting to patch up a wound to the gut in a hurry. More discerning types may identify it as a gunshot wound.]

See a friend, but they're looking a little different? Keep your distance, and let us know. It's not a exactly your traditional virus, but any bite or scratch can open up a host site, and turn you, too.

Private to: Nihlus

Location?

[[ooc: Monolith Plot continues! Red is Rinzler; orange Shepard—they'll both be responding to non-privated threads.]]

gentlemenpreferblondes

[It's late in the night -- nearly a morning, when the post goes up to the network. Now, Moira's had plenty of drunken nightly posts in the past and in the beginning this really looks like one. In the video you can see J who's looking happy with a calm smile on her lips. Almost too happy to be someone suffering from insomnia and the cheerfulness doesn't really make her appear drunk. Maybe she's taken something else. ]

Now darlings. I know that things are looking very unpleasant to us at the moment, which is about as big news as water being wet I know. The ship smells like a dumpster, the new found information about Ingress, incompetent captains and the uncertainty whether our next stop is going to put us in danger again.

[Her voice is soft and sweet as she speaks. Coy yet inviting]

But I tell you it doesn't have to be that way. I now know how to make it better, how to make you feel better, darlings. All you need to do is come and join me in I.L.R and I'll show you.

[She winks her eye at the camera before showing her surroundings in J deck.]

Now please don't leave me hanging. It's like they say in songs: every baby doll needs her daddy, right?

[ooc: this is part of the monolith/indoctrination plot. J's been affected and if someone does come see her she's going to try convert them into her new found brainwashing religion.]

abide

[ Text might have been easier to address a ship full of people. Still, talking has its merits too, and besides, he feels it's more effective this way; at least he might seem more earnest if everyone can see his face, which is set both passively and somewhat firmly. ]

I realize it's been a while since I've done this, but there are some things I wanna talk about that might not have been mentioned to anyone who's be new. I also think it'll be a good review for those who have lived on the Moira for any amount of time. [ He pauses, expression twisting just a little. Just at the corner of his mouth. ] For those who don't know me, my name's Steve Rogers. It's been almost a year for me since I've been home, and I'm here just the same as all of you.

I'm not sure the year matters, but it's 2015 for me.

[ He hesitates. ] Anyway, I don't know if it'll still be the same by the time I get back, but the important thing is getting there. I realize it's a lot to ask of anyone. Listening to complete strangers is never easy, and you might not agree with anything I say. That's okay. More than that, I'm asking you to trust the people who are in the same position as you. Most of us want to go home, and we've been promised that. Trying to leave or take things into your own hands only results in worse situations that we might not be prepared to handle. You could even hurt someone without meaning to.

[ Steve isn't sure that really hits home the point he's trying to make, especially when there's been so much happening in the last week, but it's easier to think of the people on this ship and the people he cares about than his own mental state. So, it's what he does, focusing on what he might be able to control versus the chaos that waits for them outside the ship on every planet they've ever been to and the ones they've never seen. ]

If there's anything you might need help with, or if there's anything I can do-- I can be reached over the MID or down on Mero deck. Number 009. [ There's a frown, voice soft just before the video ends. ] I might not know exactly when we'll get home, but I do know we'll get there. That's something I believe in. For everyone who wants it.

wallride

hey hey! so here's the thing i've come to notice a lot of us have armour on this ship full suits or just enhancements so i've been thinking (and also our master blacksmith darin gave me the idea) us lot with the armours should have a meet up to help keep them working properly now, i'm not doubting your ability to take care of your own equipment, but wouldn't it be good to have someone who could help if you were unable to for some reason? hit me up if you want to make this a thing ps i have space nachos and space cola!!

arcreact

[ Today’s video feed is brought to you from the absolute chaos that is Moro #016. Honestly, except for being slightly brighter in terms of decor, the place looks just like Nemo #001 had in previous videos: Tony’s shit is everywhere.

As the video turns on, transmitting from Stark’s MID and with his ID, it shows not only the chaos of bits and pieces of technology everywhere but one desk that has been cleared of clutter. On the desk, sit two journals and some blank notebooks. Behind the desk sit two men who look like they haven’t slept in days.

They are currently doing that "you ask", "no, you ask you know what you’re asking about" back and forth that suggests they may not have completely transitioned from private to public speaking mode. Eventually, Adrien gives Tony’s shoulder a shove and points, imperiously, to the camera.

TALK STARK! ]

Some of you probably remember this, a lot of you probably don't: we've got some journals floating around this place that might just be hiding answers to questions we've all been asking since we landed on this rust bucket. We've gotten our hands on two of them, partially because the good doctor here has way too much time on his hands and decided to live in the library for a month, and partially as a result of dumb luck. If there are more, I haven't gotten a whiff of them, but it stands to reason that these two aren't the only ones. So if you see a journal with creepy runes all over it, feel free to share with the class.

Anyway, here's the catch. [ Tony lifts one of the journals in question so that it's visible on the screen - small, leather-bound, and seemingly handwritten. He flips briefly through the pages, but it's just a mess of runes and symbols with no immediately obvious meaning. ] They're not written in any language I've ever seen before, and trying to translate them has been a serious pain in the ass. If I had to guess, they're written in the language of whoever built the Ingress originally, since some of the symbols are familiar from what we do have on the thing.

[ He tosses the journal back onto the desk, with a cranky and definitive plop! Adrien’s hands can be seen scooping it up and laying it down more gently, as if in apology. ]

If you've got a clever head on your shoulders, raise your hand now, 'cause we need your help. I dunno about you guys, but I'm real tired of mysteries, so let's figure this shit out. [ Translation: they need all the nerds and braniacs they can get. ] Oh, and if you're assigned to the Ingress in any official capacity? Meet me in the Ingress room in an hour. Vacation's over.

[ He sits back, satisfied that he's said his piece, and shoots a sidelong glance at Adrien. For a moment there was silence as Adrien appeared to silently beg Tony to just keep going.

No dice. The doctor was going to have to use his words.

Reaching back to rub tiredly at the nape of his neck, he sighed and began to talk. ]

I also came across a museum down on the Mini Colony. It was called the Aeronautical Study Institute or the A.S.I. if that sounds familiar to anyone? I learned some information about something called “Living Energy” or “Living Power”.

In a nutshell, I learned that it’s considered dangerous [ to the surprise of no one, right? ] This ship is the only vessel to have been known to be built where the living energy was harnessed on something mobile. The Ingress machines use Living Energy to run, some other bits indications that people were playing with something they didn’t completely understand and mention of a “Hub.”

Does any of that sound familiar to anyone else?

[ Tony raises his hand, helpfully. ]

—And "I heard about this in a horror sci-fi movie where they crushed up human souls to feed their weird alien technology" is a totally valid but not entirely helpful answer, because I already thought of that, but thanks.

[ Adrien stared at his roommate with a bemused frown on his face. ]

How would you even go about crushing a soul? Bones, flesh, tissue sure but a soul?

[ These two men are in serious need of a nap. Tony doesn’t deign that with a response, just bodily shoves Adrien out of the frame. ]

Point is, if you know something or you've heard something, now's the time to speak up. And the workgroup for these shitty journal translations meets approximately immediately, so if you're interested, chop chop.

[ The video feed cuts off as unceremoniously as it began. ]

(( Here's your plot hook if you're interested in solving some Ingress mysteries! See this OOC post for more info. ))

sketchycharacter

[Nathan looks utterly disgusted when his face appears via MID today, and that miiiight have something to do with the IKEA-esque furniture pieces scattered about his quarters. The canny eye might spot that they appear to be pieces of a queen-sized bed.]

Okay, we all know that the Ingress can be a dick, but this is outright sadistic. I'm glad Elena and I won't have to share a twin bed or shove two of them together for space, but sending me a disassembled bed with no instructions through mail drop isn't a lot better.

[He tosses a few stapled-together pages over his shoulder.]

Actually, there are instructions. But Swedish isn't one of the languages I speak. If anyone thinks they can put this shit together blind, let me know—I'll owe you one. I'd offer to trade you this thing for some help [he pans over to show the taco cat bespread] but Elena's already claimed it.

I didn't marry her for her good taste in décor.

[Sorry honey.]

Oh, yeah. [Apropos of nothing, Nate grins.] My best friend Sully came through the Ingress the other day too, so I guess it doesn't completely suck. Anyway, I would ask people not to tell him any embarrassing stories about what I've been up to here, but a lot of you are assholes.

[He says that with affection.]

Just remember I've probably seen you do some dumb stuff too, and if your friends show up, I won't hold back.

timeframes

[Dave, social media mogul, definitely has a lock on how to work a fancy future smart watch - you’ll be greeted by the sight of a be-shaded blonde and also a gray dude with horns (and no shades, sadly) crowding the same screen.]

Yo. I get it, we gotta show our faces on here - give you the low-down on the fresh new shit in town, lay out what the fuck we’re about. So back on my home planet they call me Owen Wilson, but you can call me Dave that’s cool. [Maybe it’s his middle name.]

Right. And I’m beloved and seriously underrated Jen Aniston co-star Ben Stiller. You may refer to me exclusively as Mr. Stiller. Assuming you’re given permission to address us at all. For now, all of you have probationary permission to speak to us, so consider your questions carefully.

Think we’re supposed to list all our superpowers and shit, bro, give the club a heads up as to what the fuck we can do. Actor, model, Oscar nominee, dated Sheryl Crow, recently coronated Troll King, fashion icon, DJ and rap artist. Also in the dope-ass driver’s seat of all your entertainment needs.

Yeah. Sure. We’re the king of all the trolls and all of that. I mean, listen. Between the two of us, we have some pretty fucking formidable superpowers. That’s all I’m going to say about it. I don’t actually see how it’s any of anyone’s business or why they need to know our powers anyway, so that’s pretty much all that needs to be said about it.

Oh yeah, also, I’m in charge of emotionally counseling you chucklefucks from now on. There will be some new policies put into place in the future, but more on that once I’ve determined where letting you whine on about your problems fits into my very busy schedule.

The dude has got shit to do. He'll pencil you in. Anyway, cool, icebreaker obligation friggin’ demolished, we have introduced the fuck out of ourselves. Weirdly probing questions, comments, concerns, whatever.

Don’t forget about the probation, though. I’m serious about that.

[Red = Dave, Gray = Karkat]

nofluffybunny

[ Because she's reminded of the technology back home, this should be easy. It's not her first time she's had to make a call using Skype, or something similar. Video is the option Chloe opts for. ]

My name's Chloe― Chloe Decker. [ She doesn't notice it, the self-conscious gesture of tucking her hair behind her ear, but she sets her jaw as she pushes on, voice unwavering. Completely the opposite to how she feels on the inside. ] I guess you could say I arrived here just the same as a lot of you have, as crazy as it seems. If no one minds answering a few questions, I'd really appreciate it.

Are there any parents on this ship, mothers and/or fathers? Did you... Are there any children on-board?

[ 'What happens to them when you agree to the contract? Where do they go?' ― extra questions she bites her tongue on. Instead Chloe gives a smile that's barely a twitch of her lips. ]

Again― thanks.

[ Obviously she's not ready to end the face-time just yet as she pauses. ]

...I had a gun and a pair of handcuffs with me. Someone please tell me this place comes with a 'lost and found'?

embiggened

[So being a millennial and a nerd means that thankfully Kamala adjusts to her MID pretty fast. It's basically like a big ship-wide Facebook married Skype with a little bit of Readit on the side. Cool. She's got it.

Okay Kamala, time to do your Avengers work. This is serious business and a solo mission. Can't screw it up. Take a deep breath, turn it on, and hit record.

The image of a teen girl with a mask on broadcasts across the network.]

Hello everyone, I'm Ms. Marvel and I come representing the Avengers. ...The Avengers of Earth. We're basically a bunch of superheroes that save the world and do good and heroics ....and stuff. [Smooth Kamala, moving on.] Anyway, I'm here to help make sure everyone totes gets back home safely. I just have a feeeeew questions. Important questions! That will help me with all the heroing stuff!

1. Has anyone else representing the Avengers shown up here?
2. How much do we know about this mission? Any estimate on how long it will take? Any hostile forces?
3. ...Also what happened to our shoes? I mean boots are kinda a part of my whole ensemble and were also kinda expensive so if I could get them back that would be super great!

[She puffs out her chest and looks in the camera doing her best to look authoritative and unconcerned. She did watch the world end, so she's seen worse, but there is a part of her that's just a bit concerned about how long this is going to take. Her expression wavers a bit.]

4. Uhh. Does this thing here connect to any other networks? Like maybe the internet so you could email... like... a school paper or something. Just curious!

[There's a pause. Like she really really wants to ask something but can't decide if she should. No, she can't resist.]

So are we really on the ship like.... for real in space boldly going where no one has gone before to a galaxy far far away? I mean, I just want to be sure so I can rub it in the face of someone back home before he can even claim all my Pictograms are fake.

oldforthis

[The video opens to a view of hand poking unceremoniously and sporadically at the screen.]

Oh what the hell--this thing on?

[A little shake of the wrist before the user apparently realizes that yes, it is indeed on, and it abruptly stops to reveal one perplexed Victor Sullivan.]

Jesus Christ. [He sighs both out of frustration and a little relief, bringing his arm up a little closer to his face.] All right, look. I've been around a long time, seen a helluva lot of crazy things, but if you had told me I'd be alive long enough to see space, I would have told you you were losing your goddamn mind.

[He pauses, taking the time to reach into his breast pocket and pull out a cigar from a small cigar case. He puts it in between his teeth as he puts the case away again, his free hand rummaging through his pockets in search of something else.]

Don't get me wrong, this is all real flattering, but it doesn't take a goddamn genius to know that something hinky's going on around here. I mean what the hell kind of place is this that they take your shoes after kidnapping you? So, if anyone's got some real information, I think I'm well overdue for a good explanation. Name's Victor Sullivan by the way.

[He fumbles through his pockets a little more frantically before exasperatedly taking his cigar out of his mouth.]

Ah, shit--anyone on this ship got a cigar cutter around here? Or a goddamn knife?

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.]

Entries tagged with mcu: tony stark

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text; + action options; (cw character death)

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video; (backdated to powerswap because I'm late with Starbucks)

voice; i have absolutely zero interest in friendship, i have absolutely zero interest in jokes

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video + text; Virus Zombie PSA (backdated to an hour or so after J's post)

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