[On the nature deck is a rather large, gray-green bird that seems to be looking for something. Or maybe he's looking for somewhere to get comfortable.

Obviously, this is another victim of this week's oddness, but he can't tell us anything. While most of those who have been changed have maintained an ability to speak, he has not. If he had, he would probably express some confusion over being a bird similar to one he knows from back home, but not as large.]

[There's a little blue bunny. A very unamused looking bunny]

I was a bear last time, why couldn't I be a bear again? It's better than being a bunny.

[Cambot hadn't seen Maes lately...

Oh but what's this? He's asleep in his room...and is that a pie plate on the floor?

Uh oh.]

Everyone! I was doing routine checks of the ship's functions when I just found out we're all gonna die!

Cambot! Give me Rocket #9!

[Cambot obliges...and indeed, it looks like they are fast approaching a huge chunk of ice just kind of floating in space. Cambot brings it back inside.]

That space iceberg is gonna punch a big hole in the ship if we're not careful!

[Well, Kanji was going to check what fabric he still had lying around, sort through his thread, and make sure he had enough needles, but... now he's just sitting on the floor, back against the wall, eye twitching. Cambot zooms in and picks up more sound. Seems there's a tiny fiesta going on in the wall.]

Are there any cats on this damn ship? They've been going at it for three hours!

[A purple-ish porygon wearing a dolphin pendant sits in front of a door, looking up at the handle in mild agitation. Experimentally, it nudges the door a couple of times, to no avail. It sighs and looks up at Cambot.]

Can someone assist me? I... don't have arms.

((OOC: Back~))

[Wheatley's tone is even and unexcited. It sounds weird on him. He also remains uncharacteristically still as he speaks to Cam.]

Right. There are fifty-three unique residents upon the Satellite of Love. Thirty-six are human or humanoid; thirty-six out of fifty-three is sixty-seven point nine percent.  Thirteen are animal or animalistic. Thirteen out of fifty-three is twenty-four point five percent. Four unique residents are robots. Four out of fifty-three is seven point five percent.

Plants are not individuals so they cannot be accounted for. Plants do not belong in space. Plants become jealous when left out of a population census. Plants do not have faces so they cannot be trusted.

Sixty-seven point nine plus twenty-four point five plus seven point five is ninety-nine point nine. We are missing point one percent of our populace. Plants are thinning our numbers to exact revenge for being ignored.

[And that, apparently, is all there is to say in the matter.]

[Luna's flopped down on her side on the nature deck. Her mane isn't as... floaty as usual. It takes her a while to notice the Cambot.]

Oh, t'is thee.

[She stretches a little and gives a tiny shrug.]

[Cambot focuses on foliage, notably a fern as piano music begins to play. Sitting upon it is a small bird. It's just a little house sparrow, cocking its head with a single, sharp little motion before flitting away. Cambot is obviously in the nature deck, and it focuses past the fern to show Riku sitting in the grass, watching the birds along the water bathe. His arm is propped on his knee. There's an odd, small scar on the side of it, like a pit, that wasn't there a couple days ago. It doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. For that matter, he doesn't move stiffly like he had just a couple days ago. Clearly his side isn't hurting him at all. When he hears Cambot (or rather, notices the peaceful music) he looks over and stops fiddling with something in his hand a moment. He smiles just as the music becomes more dramatic.]

So I tried out the time machine. I wanted to scout some things out before making plans. [He holds something up between his fingers. It's a white tooth, the edge sparkling with fine serrations. The broken tooth looks about the same size as that scar...] Thanks again, Amaterasu. For saving my hide back there. [There's a little smirk and a hesitation before he continues.]

I want to go back, but not by myself this time. Anyone up for a dinosaur safari?

[It seems someone else has gotten in on the pranking, though this reach is a bit... wider than Team Cutie Mark Laughter Crusaders. Throughout the top eight levels of the satellite, there have been thin, nearly invisible plastic wires strung across walkways. They're not significant enough to trip anyone up, but for making trip lines... well, they're perfect.]

[Anyone who walks into one of these has about half a second to dodge before a pie hits them on the top of the head. Or the side of the head. Or the face. Whoever's set these up has rigged these to drop or throw pies however is possible with limited space and materials. And who did it? Well, if one looks around, there will be - somewhere nearby - a little scrap of paper with a dagger sketched on it. Of course, that could just be a coincidence. But who really thinks it is?]

[And when Zidane gets on the Cambot later, he's looking inordinately pleased with himself.]

Since it looks like nothing screwy's going on this week, I decided to get back to that play I was working on. Looks like it's going to be some sort of adventure story due to a lack of actual thespians around here, so would anyone want to be in something that requires you to wave a sword around without actually hitting anyone?

Still working out the ending, too - this playwright thing's harder than I thought it'd be. But I don't think much can get worse than those robots trying to write again.

[Cambot floats towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. Text scrolls across the screen in neon green.]

Terra had the lowest score for Laser Tag.

He is about to get his "reward"

[Cambot floats down towards the shower stalls. Terra is just stepping in, his clothes folded neatly on the bench and the water already running. It's steamy and after all this 80s dancing, Terra could probably really use a shower. The stalls are designed so that the majority of the body cannot be seen, but one is able to make out the top of Terra's head and, of course, the shower spraying water.

That's not what he's about to get.

As soon as he steps under the spray the water turns green and goopy. Instead of a spray it's like a deluge of green liquidy substance...slime comes to mind. Green slime like from some children's tv show or from a certain ghost]

AUGH! WHAT! AHHH IT'S COLD JEEZE!

[Terra flails and falls backwards out of the shower, ripping the curtain down with him, slime oozing everywhere. It's all in his hair and on his face. He wipes it out of his eyes and stares up at Cambot. Cambot does a pan down, showing Terra's bare chest and the fact that he is conveniently covered by the shower curtain (Sorry ladies).]

WHY ARE YOU BROADCASTING THIS?

[He looks at his hand]

What the heck IS this stuff? Ugh.

So...I can talk to other people this way, right?

[The video feed shakes up and down as Cambot nods.]

Really? Great!

...Wait, there are other people around, aren't there? Because crash landing in a space station ghost town wouldn't surprise me one bit.

[Hello, viewers, please enjoy this image of an enormous green eye. Apparently some creature (reptilian in nature, judging by the snake-like pupil) is leaning super close to Cambot to peer at his lens. Blink, blink. After a second, he leans away and scratches his head, revealing himself to be a small purple dragon, riding on the back of a purple pony. Just another day on the Satellite of Love.] Uh, hey, Twilight?

[The aforementioned pony seems to have her nose buried in a long scroll of parchment.] So after we go pick up the new quills and parchment, we can stop by Sugarcube Corner and see if we can get some pastries for our next party, and then we'll need to go out to Sweet Apple Acres and help Applejack measure the foundation for that new storage cellar she wants to put in.

[The dragon tugs gently on Twilight's mane to get her attention.] Yeah, okay, but Twilight?

Oh, and Cheerilee wanted to talk to us about coming in and demonstrating some magic for her younger students and she has all those books to return so we might as well pick them up while we're over there, and once we get home we need to reorganize at least the Classics section and possibly Modern Spellcasting as well because someone got into them and messed everything up and nothing's where it should be anymore.

[Tugging gently has been upgraded to tugging not so gently.] Kinda need you to see this...

And the globe needs polishing, and the floor needs to be scrubbed again, and I think our clock might be thirty seconds too fast --

TWILIGHT!! [Finally he gives up and snatches the to-do list away from her.]

What is it, Spi-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIhhhhhhhhhhhhk! [Her eyes go almost as wide as her head as her breath is sucked completely out of her body at what she's seeing.]

Yyyyyyeah. [And Spike just deadpans it:] I think we're lost.


((Double intro post! Expect responses from both Spike and Twilight (sailormagic). \o/))

[Somehow, somewhere, Zidane has acquired a dashing hat and gotten it to stay on his still-pony-shaped head. He's currently rooting around on the Theatrical Deck, surprise surprise, and has somehow acquired a stack of loose papers and a pen. Time to see if it really is as difficult to write with your mouth as he thinks it's going to be!]

Hey, I've got a couple of questions for you! See, I had a talk the other day with a guy who really needs more of a social life and maybe a date every once in awhile [hello Frank!], or at all, and during that conversation I started thinking about maybe trying my hand at that whole being a playwright thing. Lord Avon is immortal, of course, but there's always room for a newcomer, isn't that right?

So! Since we all come from these difference places and presumably our entertainment on our homes was probably different, what kind of plays would you guys be interested in seeing? Comedy? Tragedy? Farce? Satire? Or we've got melodrama or maaaybe a musical, but writing music isn't really my strong suit, and we're going to avoid any and all morality plays because those are without a doubt always boring as hell.

Suggestions? Comments? Concerns? Just say what's on your mind!

[Frank comes onscreen, holding a microphone. He looks mighty pleased with himself.]

Oh wow, this is such great week for me! Why’s that, you may ask? Well, to answer that, I’ve prepared a little song!

[Frank sits down, and prepares his microphone. Then, he sings...]

Ohhhhh...
I may be evil, I may be mad,
But some cute things will make me glad!
Since the day I was booorn,
I’ve longed for my own unicorn!

Prancing through rainbow streams,
Poking little duckling dreams,
With their sparkly, pointy horns~
Yes, I am fond of unicorns!

Those ducklings do not interest me
Fuzzy squirrels can stay in their tree
Puppies and kitties fill me with scorn
Compared to a huggable unicorn!

I’d ride one over a rainbow sky!
Put wings on a unicorn and it can fly!
I will shout my admiration like a foghorn!
For you, the fantabulous unicorn!

Ohh, please don’t leave me lost and forlooooorn!
Just let me love you forever, fair unicoooooorn!

[What the heck is... that? It would be easier to see how it looked like the other sudden ponies all over the ship, if not for the fact that it were a mass of tangled legs. However, the constant ramble of it talking to itself makes it clear enough who this thing used to be.]

Okay, not panicking, definitely not, perfectly calm here, doing fine, a couple... upgrades, overnight, is what happened, that's all it is, mate, keep being calm, all good, need to just... figure out... the new apparatus...

[The legs twitch and squirm a bit, but he gets no closer to standing. He does, however, manage to catch sight of Cambot]

Cam! It's me, uh, having some weird technical difficulties, is all, some sort of... thing happened, not sure the details, I got a model... well I don't want to call it an update, honestly, that implies things improved, so far, not seeing that being the case.

[Cambot focuses on Riku, who’s leaning on the edge of a window near an airlock. He’s looking out at what may be a nebula. It’s hard to tell, since it’s far away, but there are bits of blue and purple in the distant fluff. Cambot starts playing music. Is that Enya? Yes. Yes it is. Riku sighs a little before he turns, realizing the relaxing music is coming from Cambot.]

Are you recording again? Why? [He shakes his head, but then he looks past Cambot. There’s a high-pitched, girly scream getting louder. Cambot turns to show Riku’s shade fleeing down the hallway towards them... And past. Riku’s taken a ready stance, but the shade goes for the airlock control panel. After about two seconds, the door opens and it leaps in, shouting something with a horrified expression to Riku. The door closes, and the airlock opens from the other side. The doppelganger floats into space, looking relieved before bamphing out of existence.]

[Riku just looks back at Cambot with the biggest “What the heck?” expression perhaps ever seen on him.]

[Cambot peeks into Link's room. It's the middle of the night, yet the sleepy head is up. At the moment, he's sitting on the bed as he puts his boots on. Then he stands, grabbing his hat off the night table and heading for the door. cambot follows him.

There really isn't much to show. He's poking around the satellite, perhaps looking a little miffed at seeing nothing but night sky and the world looking like a giant marble from the windows. Nothing of interest really occurs until he gets to the Servo deck...

Cambot doesn't follow him in, instead watching from afar as one of the Servos approaches him. He talks to the Servo for a moment, but Cambot is too far away to pick up what's being said. Whatever it is, the exchange seems to have upset the Servo and things get a little heated.

Too involved with the first Servo, Link doesn't noticed the others right away as they draw closer. It isn't until he catches a movement at the edge of his vision that he realizes he has a problem.

He might need some help...]

[Cambot picks up his feed on the costume deck, if the surprisingly neat piles of clothes are any indication. Prominent in the foreground are the trademark black Organization coat, with matching pants and other articles of clothing along with. A figure - Lexaeus, given the height and size of him - is bending into a cabinet that seems to be a jumble of clothes.]

[Cambot brushes a pile of clothes and it topples over; Lexaeus straightens too quickly and bumps his head, bringing a shower of Bellarian accoutrements, wigs, props, and other things down on his head. He turns to see who made the noise.]

[And, well.]

( [So THAT'S where the Fabio wigs were.] )

[Cambot focuses in on a pointy-eared young man who clearly seems lost. Judging by the way he's looking around, he probably came from a situation where being off guard could get him hurt or worse. He can be heard grumbling under his breath a little bit, but he doesn't say anything clearly enough to be understood.

He hasn't noticed Cambot yet. Although the fact that Cambot is staying out of his line of sight doesn't help matters, but this gives anyone watching a good opportunity to make some observations, such as how he looks like he might be a warrior, if that ring mail is any indication.

Nope, he's not going to notice Cambot until it needs to let him know someone's talking to him through the network.]