(voice.)

[soloisms.livejournal.com]

Oh, would you look at this hunk of junk. Do you know how long it took me to be able to use this thing? Too long, that's what. Look, I hope I'm not going to have to deal with some ancient civilization here because chances are either you'll get this message and you'll want to shoot me or you'll get this message and you won't have any idea what I'm saying. [look, he's being positive! progress is sweet…]

But, what do I have to lose? I've already lost the ship, the Wookie, the droids and a Princess -which, ironically is exactly what I'm sort of looking for. But, the funny thing is that this place doesn't even look like it could hold any of it and I haven't even heard word about them with the reports on these hunks of junks -- I said that already, right? -- you call monitors.

So, here's what I am thinking. We got eaten while we were on that asteroid or Jabba has gotten really creative and he's trying to get his money's worth through laughs . I am banking more on the first rather than the latter, only because Jabba pays people to have an imagination for him and they don't have any either. If this was the Empire, I would have already been shot.

Someone care to help me out? Where am I? [also if you happened to have seen a rather large Wookie, please contact Han Solo.] I have a bad feeling about this...

02. [Public/Video]

[lepidaikaiju.livejournal.com]

[Mothra looks as if she layered together an outfit of the most colorful clothing and accessories she could find in various places across the city that provide free clothes. Like trash cans and dumpsters. What? You expect her to know she can buy them?]

I understand why humans value so much covering for their flesh.

The colors are appealing.

[She pauses to consider something, her wings fluttering just enough to stir the dirt up from the ground behind her.]

It is such a pointless concern but the threats that present themselves here are miniscule. Human problems that they fixed with their violence and weapons. I will save my strength for when it is needed.

[Video] Bark at the moon

[purmoncul.livejournal.com]

[The laughter starts before the screen cuts on, a wild barking sound oscillating on the edge of joy and histeria. To those who knew Sirius Black, that laugh is unmistakable, if alarmingly unhinged...and then the screen focuses on the face of a complete stranger. The person pictured is gaunt and haggard, a scraggle of black beard over skin yellowed with neglect stretched tight over sharp bone. His hair is one long, unkempt mat, and he's wearing a striped prisoner's costume on ratty homespun so old that the black and white stripes have faded to a nigh-indistinguishable gray on gray. Odd runic tattoos are visible above its frayed collar, scrawling up onto his neck.

But he's laughing with Sirius's voice, and under all that mess are Sirius's grey eyes.]

-AH HAH HAH HAH! HAHAHAhahahaaa! I'm back! Prongs, Remus, you'd both best be here, so get your arses home, ha ha ha! I brought you a present!

[There's an odd whinnying screech, and then the feed cuts out.]

((OOC: Feel free to tag in, and Remus and James and anyone else at Moonybase, please come get gross prisoner hugs in person here.))

1st Test // Video

[heal-or-execute.livejournal.com]

[Hello City there is an alien on your screens today. He is still in the Porter building, pacing back and forth in front of the camera while talking very fast.]

Greetings! Professor Mordin Solus, newly arrived. Have already familiarized self with basics of situation, no need for explanations of location or reasons for temporal displacement. Communicator device basic, but archives useful for speedy research. Just to confirm findings: Disappearance of local law enforcement, unusually advanced tech created to conscript vigilantes from other dimensions. Result: ‘Import’ population, insecurity, unpredictable events. [sharp inhale] Strange solution. Wonder how it was considered a good idea.

[Mordin stops for a moment to address the camera directly.]

Anyway, am here now. Very excited. Current circumstances completely unprecedented. Functioning time travel combined with interdimensional transport? Beyond theory! [The pacing starts again. Mordin is talking to himself, hand on chin] Should be impossible. Should instantly destroy cell structure at subatomic level. Power requirements alone well beyond current human tech. Well beyond own world’s tech! Doesn’t make sense.

[Mordin turns around and a yellow, glowing construct appears around his arm. He waves it at the walls of the Porter building, scanning while talking.]

Of course, not a physicist. Porter function well outside experience. Still, extremely curious. Perhaps ask the AI- no, no, records clearly indicate instability, enormous power. Likely trigger hostile reaction. Dangerous. Better to ask you.

[The Professor turns back, faces the camera again]

Yes, yes! Would like to speak to anyone here who has already studied Porter. Share notes, compare theories on how this device works. Wormhole portals, quantum tunnelling? Need more data. Will also have to settle in, of course. Travel to MAC, hopefully not startle anyone unused to seeing aliens on the street. Assuming Imports used to nonhumans by now. Research first though. Want to know how this is possible, how we were brought here. Want to understand.

1. audio.

[abdocted.livejournal.com]

Oho, here we are! I see a recording light. What an astounding device.

[Hello City, have a distinguished British accent on your speakers.]

Now, let's see. If I'm understanding this correctly, this little device is a telephone that allows one to speak to a lot of people at once. I can't figure how it works myself--I guess there must be a battery inside but it'd have to be awfully small...

Oh, but that's not important. [time for him to raise his voice, just a little.] Heyo, Doctor, are you out there? I'd appreciate an explanation for what exactly you've gotten us into this time! [and it's back to normal volume.] For that matter I'd like to know where the girls have gotten off to, and where the TARDIS has gone. Just our luck there'll be trouble right at the start.

[there's a bit of a thoughtful silence, then:]

I don't suppose anybody on this thing is willing to part with the date? I gather I'm on Earth but the rest is a mystery at the moment.

[voice]

[latrodectus]

Hello.

[Pause.]

I'm looking to hire a personal assistant. I mean a personal assistant, not a sidekick; I'm paying for someone to do filing and faxing. Nothing dangerous, nothing exciting, but I believe in good pay and I get my own coffee.

You have to pass a background check, but since this place is a bit of a tabula rasa, that shouldn't be too hard.

video;

[sassyqueermage.livejournal.com]

[There's button smashing and peculiar swearing damning some woman called Andraste. Suddenly the video flashes on and there is black, because Anders is still trying to break the thing apparently. When he pulls back his hand and notices it's on, he finally stops fighting with it and just stares. When he finally speaks, it's in a British-but-not-quite accent.]

How in the Maker's name do they fit all of these people in here? Or is this an elvhen thing? I think there was something about communicating with...hairbrushes? Oh, I don't know. I never paid attention. Earned me quite a few lashings from Senior Enchanter Wynne. Sigh. Ever-so-perky even at her age.

Er, that is to say, if Senior Enchanter Wynne is also using this...whatever it is, I hope she understands that I am being a good little mage, ridding the world of evil one ugly thing at a time!

Though it's a bit hard to be a hero when you're not where you're supposed to be.

[Pause.]

This can't be the Fade. You don't have that ugly mucus sky over your heads and the people are actually solid. Trust me. I checked.

Certainly would like a few answers. The people talk like dwarves, but they don't look anything like it unless they are the dwarves' distant cousins.

Oh, look at me, rambling away at a box that is probably demonic. Well, listen here, box--don't even think about trying to tempt me. I will--

[And he must have pressed something, because the video suddenly goes black and there is no sound coming from him.]

ONE. [ voice ]

[touristlike.livejournal.com]

[ the feed clicks onto audio and there's a few minutes of rustling before the sound of someone taking a long drag from a cigarette and then exhaling into the mic. ]

Superheroes, huh? Well, I've had crazier fucking dreams.

[ she laughs and then begins to hum ]

Gotta get off, gonna get
Out of this merry-go-round
Gotta get off, gonna get
Need to get on where I'm bound...

4th; private // encrypted to Norman Osborn; video

[notagamblingman.livejournal.com]

( private//encrypted to Norman Osborn )

video;

[finburns.livejournal.com]

[The comma turns on to show an upwards shot of a… blue man with fins and gills. And a military vest on. Which is covered in blood. As is his neck. And mouth. The bullet-shaped holes in the vest suggest… well. Bullet wounds. Which is strange because he seems fine and perfectly… blue. He looks down and gives the comm a bland look.]

I've been in situations like this too often for me to pull the whole 'where am i' routine. And based on the fact that Texas updates aren't on the news 24/7, I'm assuming it's not in critical condition.

[He sets the comm down on something, and its revealed he's in the MAC, as made evident by the top of the couch visible on the bottom of the screen. He disappears off screen for a minute before coming back with a wet washcloth. Sits down on the couch and starts wiping the blood off.]

Which is good. A vacation would be nice, I suppose. [He pauses, frowns at the fact that the blood is proving troublesome to take off. Sighs.] Of course I could just be dead. [He rubs harder at the blood, still speaking casually, if somewhat pessimistically.] There's always that. [ He pauses in his scrubbing again, frustrated. Looks up at the comm, throws the washcloth on the couch, and stands up. Aaand  turns off the comm.]

"one". text, not from a recognizable comm number

[rethinkstrategy.livejournal.com]

I don't mean to be obtuse, but I think there has been a mistake.

I don't possess any extraordinary abilities. I'm no sort of vigilante or authority figure.

I tried to explain this to the other machine but there was no response. Therefore I must make my case again to you, the smaller machine.

I'm just an ordinary man. I'm not what you wanted when you sought a hero. Please release me from this...service.

-Czeslaw Meyer


[ooc: so this is Czes' new communicator. there's nothing about it that would suggest he's the same person as Benjamin Avaro; for more info see this post.]

[video]

[jadedsidekick.livejournal.com]

[the camera turns on and...well now, if it isn't a familiar colour combination.

and a very familiar face, wearing a very familiar expression of annoyance. her lip is curled up and she looks very agitated with her current situation. from the way the camera shifts a little, and the way her figure bobs, she's obviously walking at a very quick pace to somewhere.]

Glad to see I was missed enough to be dragged back in to this whole mess of a City. Gee, you'd think I'd finally be done with this lame dimension.

But no. Of course not. I just love the kind of luck I have.

[a long sigh, and she stops, pausing to lean against a building. her expression remains disinterested but nevertheless....]

What'd I miss.