Comm: Reporting In

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

This is Polaris reporting in.

Our mission was a fail and have to pull back. We lost a couple of people in the fight and cannot confirm their current status. We are regrouping and discussing options.

Voicemail to Moira and Nathan

[x-avier.livejournal.com]

Moira, Nathan... I am so sorry. Rachel… They put her through their mutate process. She… I'm so sorry, she, right in front of me, she's gone. Disintegrated into dust. I couldn't… there was nothing I could do. I'm so sorry.

Two Voicemails for the Professor

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Voicemail #1:

Hola, Señor. This is Tom Kruse - not the crazy scientologist - calling with something very like an update on a certain situation with which I'm sure you're intimately familiar. So far we've got a half-pint without a hat - this is a travesty but I am totally working on that so don't worry, a pixie with 3/4 functionality in the wing department but a splint of tongue depressors and all the fairy dust you could ever ask for, a kid with a stick who keeps complaining that I smell - which is really just uncalled for since I'm sure we all stink, my favorite Bea Arthur hair impersonator who's not currently sporting that hairdo of all hairdos, mechanic and groundskeeper extraordinaire - seriously this dude is like eight feet tall right now and how did I not know he could do that, everyone's favorite purple kitty cat whose bite is definitely worse than her roar - and that's saying something wow, plus the guy who's mostly Australian but doesn't sound it half the time and has really interesting scars on his palms.

Was that beep meant to warn me that I was running out of time on your voicemail? Because I will totally call back - why do these things even have limits on them? I mean -


Voicemail #2:

Damn it. Seriously - I hate voicemail sometimes. Anyway, next up we have a Frenchman who could make the 90s regret inventing the electric slide but comes in handy in a fight, McFrosty Senior - it's entirely possible she's currently trying to kill me one cell at a time with the power of her mind, an Eastern European lady who sadly lacks an interest in flowy skirts but who could probably do a pretty good job of poisoning me for a few minutes using the local flora, my green-haired siren of the kitchen - I'm counting on her to make the stuff we've got here edible, and last but certainly never least, our flyboy with the pretty feathers and the fabulous hair.

No word from anybody else yet on whether or not they're enjoying their stay thus far, but we're hopeful we'll run into them soon so we can find out, compare notes, and maybe get some suggestions on what to hit up next.

While sightseeing, we met up with an interesting local fellow who offered to show us around - it'll cost us a pretty penny, but he'll probably be useful. Also, if none of this makes sense, you should be ashamed of yourself and pay more attention the next time you're poking around in my head, Señor. Adios.