Reverie

[ 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 —

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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.

[ The question Haruto wants to ask is simple, but he doesn't want to risk the "Hideki Matsukawa" persona he's built up for himself. So, he posts using his other, anonymous communicator. ]

if you could help, but doing so would put yourself at risk, would you?

If anyone out there needs someone to talk to, I'd like to extend my services.

I have some specialized experience in dealing with high pressure situations, if that helps. I've got a room on deck 6, or we can just get coffee in the mess hall. As formal or informal as you like.

You can contact me here or privately.

For those who aren't interested, or if you want to get to know each other better first: what's your favorite memory from home?

[ 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. ]

[ The camera filming is the one from the console in the wall of the garden, the one that Haru put together. It shows Amos, fingers brushing along the plants hooked together along the wall. He has a smile on his face, and his touch seems incredibly gentle, his lips parted as he looks at the greenery. ]

Have you ever seen something more amazing? These plants are keeping us alive. Literally. Scrubbing up the air we breathe, putting it back out as something we can use. They take so much work, so much patience, so much knowledge. To keep them alive, help them grow. So amazing.

[ He stops, his face closing up all of a sudden. His jaw ticks with a muscle under the beard, and his hands turn into fists. He pulls away from the wall. It seems like a sudden change in mood, something like a switch has been flipped, all of a sudden. His posture tenses, his eyes start stinging. ]

This place is killing us. It's - it's killed my friend, already. He's more than a friend, really. He's my brother.

[ If you've met Amos, had a chat with him, you might realize that this video is pretty... well, unlike him. He doesn't seem to really recognize that fact, though, looking straight at the camera with his eyes slightly teary. ]

Be careful. This station does shit to us. [ Pause. Amos wipes at his eyes. Sniffles. ] Oh and by the way, guys, it's a station, not a ship. Don't make me say it again.

[ He doesn't sound angry, even when he says this, tired of having to repeat himself. There's a suspicious complete lack of anger throughout the whole entry. ]

Seriously, we need to get off this barge. All of us. If you think there's nothing you can do, I promise you, there is. We gotta work together.