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[rideofthefearlings]

[ The screen turns on to show nothing but an almost completely black room. If the viewer watches long enough, their eyes might adjust to see dull shapes of what could be furniture but it's hard to tell. Then something darker than the gloom, a black-on-black shadow, moves past the screen and a voice comes across. For some, it will be audible and some, perhaps not. ]

What a charming little city you all have here. So bright and colourful, so full of life.

[ A disembodied mouth appears against the blackness of the background, grinning a razor smile. It's followed shortly after by a pair of bright gold eyes, the voice low and amused and confident, ]

And yet like most things there is a touch of darkness to it. With that in mind I pose a riddle, for those of you who choose to play along: when is a captive not a captive and a cage not a cage?

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((OOC: Remember to check out his permissions post for whether your character can see/hear him. Thank you!))

Comments

[hischair]

Unless you've got a better answer.

[ Where ... is this guy's face? Is Jim just seeing the mouth and eyes or, uh. Wow, maybe he needs to rub his face to wake up, yeah, doing that right now. ]

Who are you, by the way? This is one creepy video.

[rideofthefearlings]

No, I quite like yours. It's very fitting and a little nostalgic.

[ Pitch senses the discomfort, though whether its his preternatural sense or just an excellent read of the video feed... maybe both. ]

Thank you.

[ It should be mocking, but the words actually sound pleased. ]

[hischair]

Thanks for hardly answering my question, Spooks.

[rideofthefearlings]

It's rude to ask one's name without offering your own, and very undiplomatic to make up mocking names in addition. Weren't you ever taught that?

[hischair]

Undiplomatic. [ Sir, you are very suspicious. ] Captain James Kirk of the starship Enterprise.

[rideofthefearlings]

Indeed.

[ The reply causes a spark of something, recognition of a sort, in molten gold eyes and Pitch leans forward just slightly, giving faint definition to the cast of his features. Not enough to completely reveal him, but at least enough that he was no longer just floating body parts. ]

A starship. Well, that is unexpected.

[ The words are contemplative, hardly disbelieving. ]

My name is Pitch Black.

[hischair]

That's either an unfortunate name or really, really apt. [ From what he can see, anyway. ] And what is it that you do, Mr. Black?

[rideofthefearlings]

Some days it is a little of both.

[ Pitch does not answer in words but locks eyes with Jim's blue ones across the screen. At first it is hardly noticeable, the usual caution that came from dealing with unknown entities arriving in the city. Then the suspicion came, the unease (how do you predict, how do you prepare) that quickly took on a darker turn... ]

[hischair]

[ The golden eyes are somewhat hypnotic, not that he immediately notices; he doesn't trust him, certainly, and hiding out in the dark isn't going to win Black any favors especially with Jim's crew present (I don't want him anywhere near them).

He breaks the measured look and swallows, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. ]

... You don't say.

[rideofthefearlings]

[ Pitch blinked languidly, thus leaving it for Jim to somehow have to explain, if he wants to warn anyone. "I felt a bad feeling"? Not an exceedingly useful description for anyone to go by. ]

Have you been here very long, Captain?

[ The mode of address is surprisingly smooth, not clumsy at all in the way he says it; he's addressed others like this before. ]

[hischair]

Months. [ Right, down to business. (Pitch's tone helps, oddly.) ] The nexus compromising the City and its grounds is temporally and spatially isolated, meaning we're having a hell of a job cracking our way out without getting crushed in the process. It's taking time. Sometimes the subspace fractures reopen over a specific weekend and we get "visitors", but if they're still here on the Monday it's obvious they're detainees too.

[rideofthefearlings]

[ Rather than seem taken aback by the highly technical terms, Pitch laces his hands together just off screen, expression contemplative though still shadowed. The "isolated" part was of particular interest to him, as he had already tried to use the shadows to leave this place. He was able to move around but only a certain distance. ]

So this place is self sustaining. If visitors have no pattern, it should mean those "fractures" are one of two things: additional energy being taken in, or excess energy being purged.

[hischair]

[ If he's surprised by Pitch catching on so quickly, he doesn't let it show and replies without missing a beat. ]

We think it's the former. Word to the wise, you better find a safehouse to avoid the curses. The last one we had on a pretty bad scale involved zombies and boneys taking over the City, they tried to kill everyone and damn near succeeded. There are more harmless curses, but those are irritating as hell.

[rideofthefearlings]

So are visitors the source of the energy or merely a byproduct? It stands to reason if they're sent away again that whatever energy is being taken in remains behind.

I will take it under advisement, though I think they'd find an unwelcome challenge if they tried.

[ Or at least they would if he were at his full strength or even half strength... which he was not. But Pitch was loathe to show any kind of weakness, but from practical and prideful standpoints. ]

[hischair]

I think you're already talking to my Science Officer, Mr. Spock. He'll be able to fill you in on the details far more acutely than I will.

[rideofthefearlings]

He would be the one presently limited to text, I presume.

[hischair]

Yeah. Vulcans adhere to a strict code of logic, it's probably why he's having trouble seeing you.

audio; starfleet comm; private

[logistical]

Captain. To whom are we speaking?

audio; starfleet comm; private

[hischair]

Someone along the same species as Toothiana, if you've met her.

audio; starfleet comm; private

[logistical]

I have not.

His name is Mr. Black?

[Yeah he peeked at your feed and he's no wiser.]

audio; starfleet comm; private

[hischair]

Pitch Black. I can see his eyes sometimes and his mouth, but it's fuzzy and out of focus. Able to hear him just fine, as creepy as that is, and he sounds like he isn't unfamiliar with space travel or the science behind it.

audio; starfleet comm; private

[logistical]

That suggests he is able to manipulate light, to bend around him.

[A beat.]

Is he a type of ghost?

audio; starfleet comm; private

[hischair]

I hope not. I've had enough of guys wandering in and out of my shower uninvited recently.

audio; starfleet comm; private

[logistical]

[A beat, and Spock is now fiddling with his PADD. Guys wandering out of the shower - he's not sure whether Jim's joking about that and really doesn't want to know.]

Can you describe what you are seeing, in the video feed?

audio; starfleet comm; private

[hischair]

[ Hah, if only he was joking about Q. ]

I just did. Eyes, mouth, lots of shadows ... I can't see him properly because I don't know who he is, so I'm staring at him trying to figure out what it is I can't see so I can.

... This system of belief is fucked.