Reverie

We should start keeping track of the missing.

[That's two more good friends, in the span of a couple of days, and the loss isn't easy to push through. But it's not time to get sad, or scared. It's time to get angry, get moving, get ahead.

Someone had once suggested they were going home, all of the vanished people. But no matter how hard she hopes, Clara just can't make herself believe it. Things don't work that way. Why would their captors just toss them back, like lucky fish? It doesn't make sense.]

I've got a few working theories, but none of them are very nice, so I'm open to suggestions.

Lapis, Connor, Kira, Apollo, and myself have since returned from the planet below. Forgive me for not speaking sooner on the matter, but I am prepared to share what we have discovered.

The atmosphere is compatible with the remaining lifeforms on this station. That is to say, the air is breathable and the sun is not unlike the one from Earth. The gravity is more forgiving than we may be used to, so it is something to bear in mind should we explore further. Regardless, it is a place more suitable to live than this one, should any of you desire it.

We did not encounter any sentient beings. As far as wildlife and foliage, there was much in the way of fish, moss, and fern-like plants.

We have not had an opportunity to seek much out, but there is a piece of a cliff that Lapis Lazuli has made inhabitable. She did well working her terraforming skills.

Connor has data regarding much of the plants and minerals we found. I have brought contained samples should any of you desire to examine them.

I will share recordings and photographs that I had taken during the trip.

[ATTACHMENTS: photograph01_lapis_terraforming
photograph2_connor_testing
photograph03_apollo_samplegathering
photograph04_kira_ofcourseyouredoingthat
photograph05_kira_firepit
photograph06_cliffside
photograph07_underwater

The photos are fairly self-explanatory: Lapis using her abilities to cut into the cliff and making rock-based furniture, including sofas and beds. Connor testing material by, you know, his mouth. A photo of Apollo gathering material for Alucard. Kira trying and failing to achieve a high with the local flora and fauna. Kira sitting by their fireplace. An overhead image of the cliffs they were exploring, and finally a picture underwater.]

I will answer questions best as I can, should you have any.

This is 9S.

[The video feed starts, showing a familiar looking android in a very unfamiliar location. It's the hangar bay, with two ships seated behind him. He's smiling brighter than he has in awhile, obviously feeling pretty good about himself after such a major breakthrough.]

As of last night, Haruto and I have unlocked the hangar doors. There's two large ships that look usable, but they need a command code in order to even get the doors open.

There's also four of these vehicles...? [9S points the camera at a set of rovers, and then pans over to show off the surface probes.] And a dozen of these weird things.

[Sorry, he really has no idea what they're called. He's not an astronaut.]

Anyway, it shouldn't take long to break the code for the ships, but I'm betting everything else needs a code too. They sure had this place locked up tight.... It's probably for the best if we keep all the equipment in the hanger bay for now. I don't think we'll be getting any replacement parts.

~~~~~~

[VOICE] @nines

[A day passes, and there's another post by 9S on the network.]

This is 9S again.

I've cracked the first command code for one of the ships. It took longer than I expected, so any help is appreciated. There's still a long way to go.

[Then, a bit more off the cuff.] Um... We also might want to figure out if anyone can even fly these things? Yeeaah...

[He won't mention the voice he swears he heard after unlocking the ship. A woman's voice chiding him, "Do you even know how to fly these things?"]

[ ooc: I won't be making a log for the unlocking specifically, but this post can be used to have characters offer help and segue into action (or simply do it off screen). Mods said it will take 10 days for the codes on the ship and crawlers to all be unlocked. Feel free to threadjack, etc. ]

—supposed to introduce myself? Right.

[ A soft cough. The voice is deep, pleasant, non-specifically middle-class English. ]

My name's Peter Guillam. I'm new here, and I'm from Earth in the 1970s, for everyone that that means anything to. In my previous life, I was the Brixton station chief for the British Secret Intelligence Service. In plainer terms, I suppose you might say a spy.

[ A barely audible sigh, as if of relief that now that's out there, and we can get on with things. ]

I'm—still trying to figure out what's going on here, and how I can be useful. I'm physically capable and I know a bit about gardening, and I'm willing to learn.

...Thanks.

So here's something our life here puts me in mind of, often.

In eighteen something something, the Mary Celeste set forth to cross the Atlantic with a hull full of alcohol, with a full crew, a devoted captain and his little family on board.

The ship was found several weeks later without a soul aboard. Nearby Morocco was famous for pirates, but the valuables were still left all in their places. The beds were neatly made. Baggage had not been packed. Food was in the pantry, tables were neatly set, and all the barrels of alcohol were intact- except three or four, which were made incorrectly, and which sat empty, apparently having leaked into the hull.

The lifeboat was missing, and a long rope hung from the back of the ship. Most of the sails were furled. The ship had taken on water, but not nearly enough to be dangerous; more likely the result of having been abandoned.

When the men who found the ship checked the log, the last entry was dated ten days before the ship was recovered. The sailors of the Mary Celeste noted that they had sighted land- there was some evidence that the ship's chronometer wasn't working, which doesn't matter to the puzzle except that the crew may have been disoriented, and may have believed they were closer to Gibraltar or the nearby islands than they were.

What say you?

The more of the station we unlock, the more there is to do. It seems wise to sit down together and figure out just what those things are, and how best to achieve them, if even for no other than reasons than expedience and safety. To that end, I'm proposing a station-wide meeting.

Where: The Bridge
When: 0900
What: Station Agenda

Including:
- The Hangar
- The Drive
- The construction of a coherent set of rules that govern what influence the station has on us
- Public Clue Listing
- The Library
- Accessing 7
- Station Population
- Station Emergency Procedures
- Volunteered Abilities Listing


If you've got information, or even just questions or concerns, you're encouraged to attend and share. If you let me know, I'll set a list for organization's sake. If you just want to come and listen and see if your skills might be of use somewhere, you're also encouraged to attend.

We're all in this together, let's try and keep it that way.

I'll update this post as information comes in.

[OOC: Despite the time given here, I won't be posting the in-character follow-up today or tomorrow. I'm looking to do it later this week/early next week to give everyone time to react to this if they'd like. Have at thee.]

( so.

jim kirk had not expected to wake up. he'd done his heroic thing, saved his crew, said goodbye to spock and he'd died. he knows he'd died because it had hurt but now, here he was, awake.

alive (he knows that because he'd spent thirty minutes with a hand over his heart, listening to the organ thump thump thump). once he'd come to terms that he had not died (thus making his heroic sacrifice not as cool), he'd realized he had no idea where he was.

space. a station of some kind but it didn't look like anything the enterprise had built. didn't look like anything any of the species he'd run into had built. the jumpsuit he'd woken up in had been shapeless (unfortunate) but in one piece.

time to find out what in the hell he'd just walked into.

it feels strange to grin considering the last thing he remembers is being racked by radiation sickness but the smile looks natural on his face. )

You know, I don't normally mind being kidnapped but couldn't you give me something better to wear?

( hello everyone, jim kirk was here and he was complaining about clothing. )

I suppose I should thank whoever did this for not tying me up. That's always annoying and my shoulders ache for days afterward.

( and bones offered up absolutely no sympathy. he wasn't human, he was just eighty thousand salt grains shaped into a man. )

Now, while I appreciate the niceties shown to me, I'm still a little confused as to what kind of situation I've found myself in. I don't recognize this station or this communicator on my wrist. And I really can't see this as a prank my crew would play on me.

They're a little...stodgy.

( but he loved them, he did. sometimes. when they weren't being stodgy. )

So, did I die and go to space heaven? Because I imagined more pretty dancing blue girls and loin cloths. And if this is truly the afterlife, I'm disappointed.

[ this ever so slightly mangled super soldier had a slight mishap during the anti gravity—slash—space walk excitement a couple of weeks back. took an inordinately hard hit to his inordinately hard head, and he's been in a quasi mini coma ever since. though his vitals never seemed to sink too low, that was probably a worry for his pals when there isn't too much in the way of medical treatment on board this ghostly husk of a ship.

exactly how many times is this jerk going to pull a snow white in his lifetime, anyway?

now that he's struggled sluggishly awake, bucky honestly wouldn't blame someone for punching him.

first thing's first, though, as he silently pushes the tendrils of monsters and their ephemeral claws back from the dark corners of his mind —

готовы соблюдать
he's the worst of all

— there's the hunger. ]

don't suppose anyone's found any source of food on this hunk of junk besides the replicators? seriously anything. really stale protein bars. rotten fruit? i used to eat MREs like a fine delicacy, promise i ain't picky.

just not too keen on falling back into the hallucination side effects right now.

Alright, I won't waste anyone's time with pointless questions about how or why we got here, but there are a couple of things I'm looking for information about:

1. How many minors and noncombatants are aboard this station? Note, these are separate categories. I don't care how powerful or skilled you are; if you're under twenty, I consider you a member of the former.

2. It'll be helpful for us to have an idea of each other's Quirks. I'm not under the illusion that all of us have reason to trust each other or cooperate, but presumably none of us want to be here, so. If you're willing to provide information on any abilities you might have that could be considered "supernatural" in any way, I intend to compile it for our collective use.

[ jessica jones doesn't want to be here — transported from one hellhole to another. and even worse, one in goddamn space. jesus christ.

an eternal misanthrope, she's kept to herself since her arrival, for the most part. however, because it's the middle of the night and she's feeling restless, she decides to grace the network with her presence. will she offer a few words of wisdom or perhaps a message of hope to console those whom miss their home?

yeah fucking right. ]

why does all the booze in this dump taste like shit?

[ at least she has her priorities in check. ]

[About three hours ago Daisy had received a message on her communicator and when she opened it she saw a video message from someone she never expected to see.

Lincoln Campbell, her dead boyfriend, in the Quinjet he had died in. There's an angry set to his mouth.

"I didn't want your destiny. You know that? You should've saved me. You should've found a way."

After that, the message cuts off.

Daisy had sat with that guilt for two years now, and it was still hard for her to get past it. So, unsurprisingly, this shakes her to the core. So much so that she goes to the bar just long enough to grab a bottle of whatever was closest before she's back in her room.

She's well through half the bottle when she sets her communicator to voice and speaks to anyone who might be listening.]

Has anyone received a message from someone back home? Someone that's not on the ship.

[Someone who's dead. She leaves out that part because she can't bring herself to say it out loud. Anyone that has heard her may notice how drunk she sounds. She at least had enough sense not to turn on the video option. Her eyes are red and swollen from how much she's been crying and even now she's struggling not to.]

Hi. My name is Captain Steve Rogers. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone. Where I come from, protecting people was very important to me. It still is. This ship is dangerous and I think we're getting side-tracked from an important conversation here.

I don't think we should worry too much about that roster file we were sent, but it's not a bad idea to have some sort of security team that can respond to a crisis and keep track of everything we have figured out about this place so far. I'd like to help with any effort like that, but it might be best if we wait before assigning rank to anyone. Fighting over who's the boss or throwing baseless orders around isn't going to help anyone or keep them safe. Our priorities should be safety and finding a way to leave.

It's been suggested to me that some of the things that have been happening to us could be some sort of security response from the ship. Does anyone with a better understanding of computers want to weigh in on that? Can anyone try to access those systems? There's still a lot of the station that we can't access and I know some of us have been trying to work on that.

Finally, if there's anything else I can help with, please reach out to me.

[ And a later text that follows: ]

I think people have misunderstood what I want to do. I don't want anyone to have power over the rest of us. This would be for dealing with outside threats and organizing information that would be available to everyone. Anyone who wanted to help would be welcome.

CW: MINOR BODY HORROR AND SELF HARM MENTIONS

My name is Daisy Johnson.

I know I'm not the only one this has happened to, but, has anyone else found something literally crawling under their skin? I'm not sure how it got there, maybe it was done when we were unconscious.

It stopped moving when I got it out, and it looked like a small wire. I don't think it's some sort of tracker, or of it's something else entirely. Check yourselves and if anyone might have an idea of what this could possibly be, please get in contact with me.