...I think I am glad to be sitting this flood out. I don't think I want to know who I'd be. So hey, if you are not yourself and I should know you when we pass in the halls, let me know?

...Or if you are planning on hiding in your room until this passes, also tell me because if I don't see or hear from some of you, I will come busting your door in.


[Individually private messages for Ned, Data, Ruby, Bruce, Sveta, Leia, Una, Five, Martha and Harry Dresden]
Thank you for the support the other day. I really appreciate it. I don't quite know what got into me ...aside from the vodka, but it won't happen again.

[Individually private messages for Leia and Molly]
How are you feeling? ...This flood hasn't gotten you, has it? On top of this weekend, that just seems unfair.

[Private to Tim]
[loooong pause]
You okay?

[Private to Sylar]
[Even looooonger pause!]
...Are you all right?

[LAST BUT NOT LEAST, Private for Beatty!]
Has this flood gotten you, or are you yourself?


[OOC: ...Yeah, I was going to turn her into her mother, but I don't feel like dealing with that trauma at the moment.]

[Warden Filter]

[It's possible Cissie hasn't slept, and maybe that she's more than a little drunk. She drank Beatty's vodka, sorry Beatty. This is just not her week. She looks exhausted and this entire rambling rant is delivered with a whole lot of apathy.]

First: The library is fine. Nothing happened. Beatty's in Zero for the time being for attempting to burn it, but he was stopped.

Second: Murphy is in the infirmary. She's unconscious, for no apparent reason.

Third: ...Oh, whatever, I don't care. This place is--what are we doing? Helping people, right. Giving second chances. Well, they don't want our help, they don't think they need it, they resist us at every turn and the only way to get through to them is to what? Break them down and make them miserable? Take them to the breaking point and keep pushing? How does that do anything except cause pain? How can it help them?

And how do you know who to trust? If you try and you get burned, how many more times do you try? Maybe everyone's a liar with their own agenda. We can't even trust each other to have one another's backs without arguing and taking our arguments public for everyone to see. Everyone handles their inmates differently, but it'd be nice to think we could support one another every so often.

But hey. What the hell do I know. I don't know why I thought it'd be different here than at home. No one ever sticks around. I should be used to that by now.

Right. So. This flood has turned the Barge into a zoo. Clearly. Uh, I'd ask for people to check-in, but... I am not Dr. Doolittle. I don't speak animal. Though there are some of you I can understand, which is weird. But if you are an animal and you have a way to identify yourself, that'd be helpful.

Meanwhile, how many people are still human? The infirmary and kitchen staffs were already stretched pretty thin; I can't imagine this flood is going to help at all.

...Beatty, I really hope you're yourself. Or that you can communicate somehow.

[Cissie looks tired. She hasn't been sleeping well, but she's been trying to cope by being positive and MAN, you are all cramping her style. She'd be typing this, but her arm is broken and she's tired of typing one-handed.]

...Is it such a terrible thing, to just be grateful to be alive and out of that place?


[FRIEND FILTER: basically, if your character is friendly with Cissie, they are on it. Yes, that means you. And Beatty, you're here too, JUST BECAUSE.]
Check in, please. I haven't heard from everyone, and... I worry. If anyone needs anything, let me know.

[TEAM MINIVAN filter--Murphy, Gabriel, Sam, Harry]
How's everyone doing? Murphy, your leg? Sam, your head? Harry--you okay? Gabe, I know you're fine, but I'm checking in anyway.

[Private to Bruce Banner]
...Um, can I ask a favor of you?

[Private to Tim]
You okay? You owe me something fun. You'd better not still be beating yourself up for things out of your control, Mister.


[OOC: Sorry for being slow and behind this week, everyone! I'm working on it. If there's something I've missed, point me to it.

ALSO BECAUSE I SLACKED AND DON'T WANT TO POST A MILLION TIMES: Kota, interested in some backdated Beatty rescue spam?]

[This post is brought to you accidentally! ...Also, Ros, we love you and Jae said we could post this even though you aren't here to approve. >.> (JAE SAYS THAT SHE NEVER ACTUALLY SAID THAT OKAY?) (THIS IS DANNI. I HEARD IT, I DID.) (YOU CANNOT HEAR WHAT IS NOT SPOKEN. AND IT WASN'T TYPED EITHER. This is Jae. :|) (WE SAID WE'D BEG FORGIVENESS AND BLAME JAE. JAE AGREED TO THESE TERMS. /Sara) (...Okay fine I can't deny this. /Jae) (\o/ /Danni) (I KNOW NOTHING. /Chris)

IN ANY CASE, the comm turns on and at first, there is muffled scuffling noises and then Cissie's voice is heard:] OW. Watch it!

[More scuffling noises and then there is... a series of squeaks. Like the squeaks a dog's chew toy makes. Then Murphy's voice is heard, shouting:] GABRIEL. HARRY. I will personally dropkick you out the rear window if you don't--crap!--shut up and let me--goddamnit--focus!

[In the background, Sam Tyler lets out a yelp of protest. THIS IS NOT THE PROPER USE OF A MOTOR VEHICLE.]

[Closer to Cissie, Harry Dresden speaks up:] GO MURPHY GO, run over that zom-[thud]-OW, watch the bumps!

[The computerized voice of a GPS unit chimes in from the front:] Recalculating. Recalculating. Turn left in point. Three. Miles.

[Murphy:] That was on purpose, Dresden.

[There's a sardonic laugh and then Gabriel, on Cissie's other side speaks:] How's that height advantage treating you now, bucko?

[Sam:] One--One way, one way!

[Murphy:] I don't think zombies worry about traffic laws, Sam.

[There is another loud thud and a squeak. Cissie shouts.] Would you two please stop hitting me with your toys?!

[Harry:] Well, if he would stop moving...

[Murphy:] I will make you both stop moving.

[Gabriel:] Oh c'mon, Murphy. If you were interested in necrophilia, there's about two hundred zombies right back- [There's a bump and a thud that sounds suspiciously like someone falling out of their seat.]

[Harry:] Not so high and mighty now, are you Gabby?

[Gabriel:] Don't you Gabby me, Gandalf.

[Another squeak and then Cissie:] Why are you hitting each other anyway? There are--OW--zombie--OW! I am not sitting back here next time!

[GPS unit:] Recalculating. Recalculating. Turn left in--

[Murphy, shouting:] SOCCER MOM THIS, YOU SONS OF BITCHES!

[Harry, quietly:] It's times like this I wonder why I'm still alive...

[Gabriel, slightly louder:] Oh, that's real easy to fix. Why didn't you just say so?

[Harry:] Because if I want you to do something stupid all I have to do is wait.

[Sam:] Next time, I'm driving.

Okay, so--I'm trying to be all calm and go with the flow like most people, but I think I can rule out the whole 'drank too much' theory, as, uh. I think I'm too young to drink. I mean--I don't know. Are we in international waters? What's the drinking age out here anyway? And why would I be on a cruise by myself, who goes on cruises alone unless it's like a singles' cruise or something and--

...Anyway. Does anybody know anything about, uh, the Olympics? 'Cause I have a medal here, and--well, I guess it's mine. It's probably mine, it was in my pocket. Who keeps a gold medal in their pocket? I have pictures of me wearing it, and I look pretty happy, sooo. Yeah. Olympians are usually pretty famous, right? Anyone know who I am?

It's got an archer on it, so I guess it's for archery. ...Who even does archery anymore?

[Open to spam for infirmary people or visitors!]

[Here, have some breathing because Cissie turns this thing on and then realizes she doesn't have a clue what she wants to say.]

...I don't--ow.

[Switch to written; except for spam or otherwise noted, all replies are written.]

I'm all right. Who else was--If you're okay, please let me know.