video; un: megatron

[flickerandfade]

[ That... sure is a big robot guy settling down in front of his communication device with a pensive look on his face. When he speaks, it's in a sonorous and rumbling voice, heavy with a sense of age. ]

I suppose that since I am now here for the foreseeable future, it would behoove me to introduce myself and to let you all know whom you are dealing with.

My name is Megatron of Tarn. I do not expect you to know that name, as it seems many of you are not from a universe where I exist. Or at least do not exist in the form you see before you.

[ He's just going to be a touch philosophical there for a moment, don't mind him. ]

In any case, even if you do not recognize my name I believe it is important that I inform you as to who it is you are to be working with. I am the founder and former leader of the Decepticon movement which helped to throw my people into civil war, a step which I thought necessary to tear down the corrupt pillars of a society that oppressed its people and served the wealthy and the powerful not its people.

This civil war spilled out across the cosmos of my home universe and touched upon hundreds if not thousands of uninvolved civilizations. At the time I held beliefs that I no longer subscribe to pertaining to the superiority of mechanoid life and whether or not I intended my orders with malice or simple indifference, I gave them all the same.

I understood too late in my life that I had become someone I did not recognize. I was someone whose wars no longer served the cause I claimed to serve and on whose hands there was too much blood to wash clean. That is to my everlasting regret. Since then I have disavowed violence and my only desire is to do what little I can to try and make the universe better while I have the chance.

Before arriving here I had been imprisoned by a galactic governing body, sentenced to spend the rest of my existence alone and in darkness until my spark gave out. This is a fate which I fully accepted as just.

If you have questions, I will answer them truthfully.

[ Another pause. ]

That being said, I am a trained medical professional and the only one currently available for myself and the other Cybertronian presently aboard this station. If possible, I would like to coordinate with your existing medical staff in order to do some... cross-training, shall we say? Please contact me here or via my communication device if you have an interest in learning about Cybertronian medicine.

audio: un: goodvibes

[aurable]

Hello! My name is Drift, and unfortunately, I'm more used to writing speeches than giving them. [ An agonizingly chipper voice comes through that might make you think of a substitute teacher trying too hard. ] Ordinarily, I avoid starting with negativity, especially in greeting, but this felt urgent. I apologize in advance if this is detrimental to anyone attempting to regain a more positive outlook after having gone through the ordeal that was our arrival.

It has come to my attention that the mess hall in the southeastern wing accommodates the specific needs of newcomers. Otherwise, fantastic news, but I'm compelled to warn everyone here now: If you come across any containers with a somewhat viscous or luminous quality that could be anything from purple, pink, orange, or green?

Do. Not. Drink. It.

Actually, you would be doing me a favor if you avoided touching it at all and contacted me immediately. In all likelihood, that's a container of Energon or a similar substance, and it is remarkably toxic to humans. I say 'remarkably' because the poor medical staff would only be able to remark on how quickly your internal organs coagulated into sludge after the first gulp.

It's perfectly safe if it's unopened, but to err on the side of caution, I'd ask it be removed by either myself or someone with experience in hazardous materials if you come across it.

[ Drift clears his 'throat' which sounds more like machinery venting overlaid with the sound of cough. ]

On a lighter note, I'd like to explore the possibility of scheduled team-building exercises. Making full use of the station's training and simulation rooms for more regimented practice and possible meditation for those who need it couldn't hurt.

audio. un: barnes. (with bonus un: s.wilson)

[starer]

[It's shortly after the latest batch of new arrivals turn up that a post makes its way on to the network. But it's a little different to the usual information dump that Bucky's previously made. This time, the text is replaced with audio. And all thanks to a special guest...]

So Quill did the whole Halloween thing yesterday. That makes today November 1st, if we're going by Earth's calendar.

[Five months on this station already. Time flies, huh?]

Dusty's gone. Disappeared before the last mission. So if someone else wants to take over rationing, lists are in the file next to the fridge.

[Because who needs a segue when you can just get right down to business?

There’s a rustle of someone moving from nearby, the sound of a background voice drawing closer, words muffled around a yawn and finally becoming more clear, the Louisiana accent bleeding through a little more strongly than usual:]

… know how to put the fun in KP duty. What Grumplestiltskin over here is tryna explain is: We got no cook, but Bucky and I’ve been keeping inventory on food supplies. We been setting aside emergency supplies in case of surprise shutdowns and missed food shipments. Usually got more than enough food, so help yourself to whatever, we ain't controlling the supply, just keeping an eye.

Also not feeding the lot of you, but when grumples and I cook, there's gonna be extra for everyone to grab. Unless someone decides to start a food fight again. Don't look at me like that, you know what you did.

[There's an under the breath grumble of "You're the one who got batter all over my pants."]

We've also been keeping an inventory of everything that goes unclaimed after each drop. You can find it all at the end of the rec room. If you need anything, check the list on the wall. It'll save you time. Just mark off anything you take when you're done.

[Being responsible is the worst. Someone please take all of this over for them so he doesn't have to deal with Sam's disappointed face when he shirks his duties.]

Hey speaking of inventory, are you wearing my jacket? I swear if you do your 'look at me, I'm so cool' thing and rip the sleeve off…

Someone's borrowing mine.

[Because that explains everything, right?]

Looking for some volunteers. Sterile walls ain't exactly the most welcoming for some of the people here. [Especially if you're 14!] Steve's gone though, so I ain't exactly got access to an artist anymore. If there's anyone here with some ideas on how to brighten this place up, I got some stuff from the last drop that could help.

Trust me, I fixed a whole ass boat with him, the man’s surprisingly useless with a paintbrush. Never believe him when he claims to have gotten paint on you by accident. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.

[There's just a look thrown in Sam's direction. And then, right as the feed's about to cut, there's also one last comment.]

Changing your regret is possible. You decide to do it, make sure you're willing to foot the bill.

[And with that helpful warning, he's done.]


[ooc: Red is Sam. Blue is Bucky. Expect to be tagteamed (unless threads are made private ofc)]