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[The camera's at an unnaturally flattering angle of Mettaton's upper body, something only possible for someone with extendable arms or something ridiculous like that. He sits behind a table of some kind, and if he had a stack of papers and a pristine suit it might be reminiscent of a news anchor. But for anyone who has met this showy robot, Mettaton's expression looks a lot more drained than usual. He quickly remedies this and puts forth a pleasant smile, his voice smooth and clear.]

Hello there, beauties and gentlebeauties! It's Mettaton, here at last to deliver the content you've been craving! ...If we weren't under such grim circumstances. You see. I would love for the purpose of this communication to be to serenade you with my dulcet voice. But I have some news for you that is both meaty and fascinating... Like a Steak In The Shape Of My Face, which is both enticing and satiating. So why not compromise and have both?? [He raises a finger.] I've just recovered from connecting to the Horologium itself in an attempt to gather some information by using my robotic talents... At the pleading of Pidge-darling over here. [Who he gestures to, but she's off camera.] And with her assistance. It wasn't easy! Think of it as a token of my dedication to you, my lovely new viewers... Ohhh yes!!

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[ lotor is in the lounge area, and seems to have found the video games. he's not playing them, but he seems to be considering it, fiddling with one of the controllers as he speaks. and, for someone stuck on an abandoned spaceship, he doesn't seem to be too entirely bothered by the whole stuck thing.

outwardly, anyway. inwardly, lotor is suffering psychologically just like everyone else, but he does a good job at pretending he isn't. he is a professional liar, after all. ]

All of this exploration and chatter, and no one has come together to wonder what is making that noise?

[ he doesn't sound bothered, by the ever-present rumbling underneath their feet, but he does sound curious. like this entire thing is academic, rather than, you know. a dead ship prison. ]

I was born on a space station, and I have to admit, I have never heard something like that. And, as Sheryl has already pointed out, we are not moving. We seem to be stuck in stasis, hanging in nothingness, while something, or someone, is making that dreadful noise.

[ he tosses the controller onto a nearby couch. ]

The closest thing I can think of is that it almost reminds me of the planet destroyers, in my own corner of the universe. Giant creatures that wander space and time, eating dead planets. It is a remarkable function, and interesting to study -- an intergalactic recycling center, ensuring that the universe does not get overly cluttered. Or perhaps it's a malfunction of the mechanical variety, or maybe the noise is simply in our own heads, a figment of our imagination.

[ lotor pauses before shrugging, and inclines his head toward the screen. there is something, in the glint in his eyes. a need to be distracted, a need to talk to someone, a need to not feel trapped on this ship going absolutely nowhere.

being stuck is the thing lotor hates the very most. ]

Does anyone else want to add to the baseless guessing, or would someone like to join me in a game of flight simulation?

ooc: threadjacking is always welcome in my posts. :)

Due to Chelseamod's ineptness with Dreamwidth communities, the tag post is now awkwardly floating around amongst your entries.

VIEW IT, IN ALL OF ITS GLORY.