[Simon turns on the video feed and looks... much more normal and well put together than he has been over the last few days. He's sitting in his room, and while he seems like his normal, sort of stiff self, there's maybe a little bit of melancholy to his expression.]

I'd like to apologize for my behavior over the last few days. I guess the port's effects took a while to wear off completely. I'll be taking up regular shifts in the infirmary again.

[He considers putting out a message for River, or maybe the rest of the crew, but ultimately decides against it, click off the feed without saying anything else.]

[As Constable Crabtree has so succinctly put it, Crazypants is still crazy, and has been roaming the Barge doing fairly not Simon-ish things, like napping in weird places and climbing on things and babbling quietly to himself. Feel free to have seen him around being a little off.

Right now, though, he's camped out on the floor of a common room, with a couple medical textbooks lying around him. Some of them have had pages shredded out of them, some of which have also seen the business end of a pen and a highlighter. Some of the notes are neat, but others look like little more than scribbles. Entire paragraphs have been crossed out or circled almost at random, and Simon currently has another book in his lap, his pen running across the pages as he mutters to himself under his breath, one knee bouncing nervously up and down, his free hand propped up on his other knee and held near his forehead, fingers twitching.

The muttering gets a little more coherent, because he knows the camera's on and he's trying to figure out a way to explain this to everyone - and himself - but he doesn't look up at the communicator, instead continuing to apparently edit the book.]

There's no reason for it. It's a puzzle without a solution, it's lost, they misplaced it. It was the wrong one, anyway. They ripped it out, tried to make her dance, but it didn't work, something- something went wrong, everything went wrong. Nothing makes sense- [And as if to prove that point, he suddenly rips the page out of the book and tears it in half again before throwing it aside. He stares at it for a long moment before turning around and shoving the stack of books off the coffee table with a frustrated not quite scream. The books make a satisfying thud, and once again he just regards them for a few seconds, like he's forgotten the camera's even there.

He looks up, eyes wide and almost haunted or afraid, staring at the camera, voice shaky.]

River?

[Simon clicks on the video feed, but for a few seconds, it's evident that the communicator is lying at a strange angle, showing the surface of a table in one of the common rooms. There's a pile of dry rice on the table that Simon's currently organizing into shapes - flowers, mushrooms, cats, little boats - on the tables surface, and he moves the communicator to get it all in better few, his expression somewhere between earnest and panicky and very serious as he glances at the camera briefly, like he's got something important to talk about.

He's probably been seeming a little off the longer we've been waiting for repairs to get finished, mumbling quietly to himself or saying something almost entirely without context, but by now, he's lapsed into full on unintentional imitation of his sister because of Wonderland's influence, and sanity is not really in the picture today.]

It's a charade. They're just going through the motions. Anterior insula, anterior cingulate cortex, and inferior frontal cortex, they're there, they feel, they can be quantified, but they don't function. [He starts changing the shapes in the rice designs so that some mirror each other, while others don't, looking a little misshapen instead. There's a petal missing from one, the second boat is lopsided. He's basically babbling at this point, not looking at the camera and speaking quickly, like the words are in a rush to get out.]

They make them see things that aren't there. Tell them it's better because they understand, no one else does. That they're a king in the graveyard, but they're wrong. The mirror neurons are firing. They hear, but they don't listen. They don't comprehend. [He makes a bit of a face, continuing the rearrangement, brow starting to furrow in fierce concentration.] It takes time. [He shoves the rice back into a pile before digging his fingers into his temples for a moment, kneading the skin there as if to ward off a headache.] It shouldn't. They're damaged.

[And now he seems frustrated, and almost desperate, like this is all really important but he can't figure out a way to make you all understand.] It's broken. It doesn't make sense.

[He picks up the communicator, staring into the video feed for a long moment, brow furrowed slightly, expression once again serious and focused.]

It's problematic. [And he clicks off the feed.]

[ooc: Simon's still on the ship, but seriously everyone come talk to him. :3]

[Simon switches on the video feed and looks at the camera seriously. He's sitting in his cabin, which is his cabin on Serenity. It's a little small, and somewhere between Spartan and personalized enough that it's apparent the adult Simon has been living there for a while.

Young Simon looks like Troy Bolton looks a little more stuffy and well dressed than Simon usually does as an adult - he's ditched the vests and more stuck up look for sweaters and plain long sleeved shirts a long while ago - and generally looks like some combination of annoyed, interested and maybe a little anxious, all while trying to be polite.]

This is an interesting space ship and everything - really, it's da bianhua* - but when are we going to go home? I really can't afford to miss any more school than I already have. [HIS GRADES WILL SUFFERRRR. B(]

Besides, won't our parents be annoyed we're gone?

[ooc: *Great/awesome/etc. Simon's thirteen and even more of a pompous stick in the mud than usual.]

[The feed clicks on, but Simon hesitates slightly before saying anything, so there are a few beats of silence.]

Homura's left the Barge.

[Anddd dwelling on personal feelings on the subject over the network is not really Simon's cup of tea, so he moves right on to the next order of business.] Dr. Bruce Banner's joined the infirmary staff, and we are always in need of volunteers, if anyone's interested. Any new arrivals who haven't been by for an exam are encouraged to come down to the infirmary as soon as possible. We're on level two.

[Simon was not in his room when the flood hit, which means there is currently a tuxedo cat sitting on one of the counters in the infirmary, because he his a cat and will sit where he damn wants to, thank you very much.

... Also his comm was up here and it's hard enough to access it with paws without having to knock it off the counter and drag it somewhere else.]

Homura? Are you okay? [His tail swishes back and forth a little, visibly irritated. He's somewhere between really frustrated and kind of freaking out, because he's a cat, and this is sort of a decidedly NOT AWESOME first flood to be affected by.]

What exactly is the procedure when something like this happens? Do we even know how many people are affected? ... Do we even have food for anyone who's a big predator? [Because, frankly, the alternative is sort of a terrifying thought. And while he's eaten lousier food than cat food, he's still not really in any rush to try it out.

He heaves a short, annoyed sigh.] And I guess if anyone gets hurt, get in touch with one of the other doctors, if they're not affected. I don't think I'm going to be much use until this is over. [And if a cat can roll its eyes, you can bet Simon wants to do it right now, but.] The novelty of not having thumbs has already warn off.

[ooc: Simon can be understood and communicate with everyone, affected or not! Also if anyone wants to run into him in the infirmary, they are welcome to. :3]

Dr. Crane has offered to assist in the infirmary when he's available. He's a trained psychiatrist, specializing in psychopharmacology, so if you have an issue along those lines, feel free to contact him.

And if anyone else on board has a medical background and would like to help out in the infirmary, please contact me or Merlin with your information. We could also use volunteers with first aid training willing to be added to a list of people to be called in case of emergency or staff shortages during a crisis situation. There is a screening process, and inmates need to have the informed consent of their warden before being taken on as staff. Thank you.

[Private to Homura]

I have your file. Would you like to meet somewhere and talk about it?

[The feed clicks on to show Simon back in his quarters, which are sparsely decorated and pretty small, all things considered, although most of what you're seeing is just the wall behind him.

He's well dressed, polite, and speaks formally, and has spent a fair amount of time thinking over exactly what he wants to say about himself, because he can't just announce to everyone that he's been on the run, but he needs to assert that he is a medical professional, and they're not handing their infirmary over to someone who has no idea what he's doing. Anyone who's been in the infirmary lately might have seen Merlin showing him around.]

My name is Simon Tam. I was a trauma surgeon, but I've been working as a medic on a transport ship for the last few months because I [And here's where the real lie is kicking in, because while he doesn't want it to sound like he was fired for malpractice or something like that, he also doesn't want to come out and explain the whole thing to a bunch of strangers. Who knows who else is on the ship?] needed a change in scenery. I'll be working here as a warden for the foreseeable future, and I'll be lending a hand in the infirmary.

Merlin's already informed me of usual proceedings here, and - I'm sorry to be the one telling everyone this - but Doctor McCoy's vanished? [It almost sounds like he's asking if that's the correct term to use, here.] As in he's left the Barge unexpectedly. Merlin said that happens often, here.

[Which Simon doesn't like the sound of AT ALL, but any discomfort is brief and quickly leaves his expression.]

I - we don't know if he'll be back, but in the mean time, if anyone has any medical issues or questions, come find one of us. Or ask me, here.