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[There’s a ghost in the machine.

Well, not exactly a ghost, per se, but at the rate he’s fading he’s not entirely sure he won’t be non-existent in…days? Hours?

The bright lights of the mall are visible behind John Sheppard, and, well, through him, and he sounds like he’s very done with the situation.]

Just out of curiosity, has anyone else started to disappear?

Anyone else seen a time-traveling kid with a Delorean, maybe?

stevieboy

No one's had any problems with anyone breaking into their room or anything, right? Or no one's out there pranking people? Because if someone out there thinks it's funny to leave wet footprints all over my room, it's actually not funny.

just putting that out there

astrologics

I know we're only on questionable occurrence like, two, maybe three depending on perspective but

thematically speaking, is anyone else feeling a little uneasy with the 'do a thing to escape x' thing we've got going on?

and you know, there were people that used to believe that cameras stole souls.

maritorious

[Nancy's looking a lot better since her arrival. Her black eye has faded, the cut on her lip has healed, and the damned headache is at long last gone. She sits with a straight back, and occasionally glances off-screen to make sure she's doing it right. Not like she'd really know. But it's fun, to be a part of something new like this, these video messages. These videos.

In the background, The Smiths play quietly. She takes a drink of what could be anything. It's not. It's tea. And gin.

Mostly gin.]

Hello, I'm trying this for the first time. It's all so incredibly new and exciting. [Her accent remains unchanged.]

Which is why I'd like to ask everyone something: How many of you are out of place? And how many are out of time?

I was speaking at the roller rink with Captain Bonnet and we were wondering if there were others like us here, not just dragged from a few years or across the country, but across the ocean, hundreds of years out of the past, into this ridiculous future and have no idea what cars or neon or arcades are let alone jeans.

If so, I propose we have a meeting of sorts. Try to learn all these new things together. Or if anyone is willing to explain the last two hundred years in history, I'm really curious. I know some of you are from the future future from here, but I imagine that'd be easier. [Now she feels like shes' excluding a huge chunk of the population, but come on. People like her and Stede were at a distinct disadvantage.]

Er-- My name is Nancy, and I'm from 1838 London.

westviews

Has anyone tried to leave town yet?

[She's not asking for volunteers, but because she doubts simply driving away is allowed by the Mayor. She's just curious as to how aggressive the consequences are.]

savethem

[A shaky camera view of the wall is followed by an entirely too close up of a large, dark eye. Eventually, though, it moves back to show her face. A rather controlled but concerned, drawn edge to her features.]

Uh, I guess this is like Bob’s JVC thing.

Ok, Hello. My name is Joyce Byers, I arrived here at the Saturn Motel. [She held up her bandaged arm by way of showing how she'd gotten out of there.]

I haven't seen my kids. I just need to know if they are here, I need to know they are alright. My oldest is Jonathan, he's nineteen about five feet eight, thin, brown hair and dark eyes. And my son Will, he's fourteen, five feet nine, with brown hair and soft hazel eyes. And Jane, she's about fourteen, five and a half feet tall, brown hair and brown eyes.

I have pictures! [She scrambled, the phone bobbling while she pulled out her billfold and fanned a small plastic insert with old, faded school pictures of Jonathan and Will. And there is one picture of the four of them that she pulled out of the bill compartment.]

If you've seen them, or heard about kids alone, please let me know. I'll be.... well I'll be out looking so just let me know.

And someone tell me where I can get some cigarettes, please.

[The video goes quiet with soft muttering and cursing until she figures out how to end the video.]

nauseam

okay show of hands. a poll, if you will:

who among us actually literally gave blood to get out of their motel room?

and now some options:

- if your answer to that question is ME BITCH: you seem very normal indeed! for unrelated reasons did you notice the word 'gullible' is carved into your nightstand?

- if your answer to that question is NOT ME BITCH: we should start a club for people who treat their blood with respect and don't hand it out to some hussy mayor at literally any opportunity

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