[ the feed switches on to show a spectacular view of the garden grounds. as in the actual floor of the gardens, mostly dirt and foliage, before it's flipped around to focus on hook's face. his expression is solemn, offering up a respectable display of sincere concern for those he's addressing. ]

This message is intended as a favour— an act of good faith, if you will. I regret to inform my fellow passengers that we've a wolf in our midst. [ the mask of civility slips slightly, giving way to a sharp grin; his voice matches, edged with hostility and amusement. ] Or should I say a crocodile.

There's a man on this ship who calls himself Rumplestiltskin. While I admit he's not much to look at, it's nothing more than the practised ruse of a monster. He's known to my world as The Dark One. Whatever kind words he's spun, any generosities he's offered— I assure you, they've been at your expense.

[ no killing allowed, but nobody said anything about gossip. anyway, after a pause to let that dramatic reveal that absolutely won't remind anyone of stupid picture books settle: ]

I've also heard word of a smithy on board. If anyone could direct me to it or to its owner, I'd be in your debt. [ there's a glint of light off the metal as he raises his hook, idly considering its condition. ] I've something in need of sharpening.

[ that last sentence would absolutely be a private taunt to gold if he knew how to encrypt anything, but he doesn't. blame emma. ]

( ooc: 4th walling on all related fairy tales/stories is welcome! )

[ Maybe going to poke around floor 19 wasn't exactly wise -- after all, she'd read up on the jump and how it hadn't really happened, how the only person with a 019 on their arm was a man from this universe, and Rebecca didn't trust the whole thing. After a failed mutiny, being forcibly expelled from engineering, and being horribly sick, however... well, she wanted to feel useful. And so a quick look at floor 19 it was.

Honestly, the floor was pretty... normal-looking. Not a bad place to look for supplies, though; that revelation had led Rebecca to the kitchens in order to raid the cupboards. But there was just one thing... ]

Is someone missing a pig?

[ On camera is one pot-bellied pig, sniffing and snorting around the kitchen floor. ]

I think she's hungry.

[ when the feed opens, it's on a desk with a media pad sitting a bit askew on it. there's a bit of shuffling heard in the background and what looks like a male torso in just a t-shirt passes over through the recording before finally the person who is attached to that torso sits down in a chair and manages to make it so that his face is seen. he looks tired and before he speaks, he yawns. ]

Sorry about that, didn't mean to greet all of you with a yawn. Anyway, for those of you who haven't met me— which might be a fair amount, the name's Peter Burke. [ he pauses. ] I know a number of us or at least those of us who were asleep had to deal with— something not too unlike that memory sharing we all dealt with two jumps back or three depending on how you're counting. And looking back on what I missed when I was stuck in my pod dreaming about the past here I can see the shadows were here last jump too and the heat which would be the same, but you'd be surprised how the temperature shifts when you're on patrol in some areas.

In any case, I know some of us aren't fans of thinking about the whys of this ship and we prefer to write it off as just the ship being the ship and some of us get a little overzealous when it comes to theorizing. [ topher. ] But if there's one thing I've learned in my time at the FBI, it's that sometimes working together to think things through can provide answers that might get lost in the shuffle of your mind. And I just like it myself because I love a good sounding board when I'm reading a mystery. [ solving a case, same difference. ] I'm not asking any of you to do something you don't want to, since I know some of us would rather keep our focus on the day to day. But, for those of you who've thought about it— anything you wouldn't mind sharing?

[Abbie is adjusting her device so that the feed shows up clearly and so she isn't being filmed in a stilted manner. That would be annoying!]

Alright. Seems a little late to be using this, but better now than never.

[She brushes some of her hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath before continuing.]

Hi. [She gives a small shrug and a wave.] I'm Lieutenant Abigail Mills and I'm from Sleepy Hollow, New York. Call me Abbie if you want. Right now though, I'm currently with the SEC that's been established aboard here. I may not have any crazy powers or special abilities, being human and all, but I'd like to think I'm more than dependable when it comes to security matters.

Formal introductions aside, I gotta ask about the things people are seeing in the mirrors and about the people who were dreaming in their pods. I'm hearing things about beasts and warped edges and frankly, I'm more than a little concerned.

[There's a pause before she hesitantly adds:]

I've been there before, believe me. And that was before I woke up and found myself in space. There has to be a purpose and meaning behind them.

[Marty is intensely reading up as fast as he can on everything going on, because it looks like the whole ship is buzzing with bits and pieces of broken-up intel. Making it all fit is kind of tough, though. Carolyn gave a chunk, then Edgeworth — Marty's got his coma thing, and then there was this ship-wide snapshot with Matine and Schue... Weird shit, man. Just weird.] 

Sooo... Uh.

Like. This VIP chick. Okay, back up, Marty: I had a dream while I was passed out — coma'd out. There was this chick named Malone, and she was talking to this other guy about guarding some prisoner they called a VIP; Very Important Prisoner, you know? Legit what they said, so don't laugh at me on that one. The Malone lady, she was talking about how creepy this VIP was and how she was like talkin' to a wall.

And then they said that she was married to someone. Someone big. Think they said it was a captain; you think maybe the captain? Because that's what they made it sound like to me. Apparently this VIP killed someone super nasty and brutal, too. Manslaughter case.

[He breathes out, but is surprisingly missing a joint this time around. Shocking, I know.]

I wonder where all this crap falls in line. Everyone's talking around here now. We've got this Matine and Schue duo and they're talking about this VIP and how Ward's chillin' on guard patrol, but then they talk about how the captain's all nice with her, no handcuffs on her or anything... sounds like they kinda planned on not letting Manslaughter Lady go to trial. Or whatever. 

And then shit goes wild and Matine — what? Flips her lid and shoots a guy 'cus she's hallucinating or something? Am I hearing this all right?

God, I hate this ship sometimes. If you're gonna go sci-fi horror movie on me, at least make it straight-forward.

... Especially if I'm in it.

[please don't kill me first i'm too charming to get shot in the face by pretty women]


((OOC: Marty's actually got a little piece of his intel from a coma dream he had, in case you're wondering what the hell he's blabbing about))

[ here's the thing: sleep deprivation makes idle whims seem like fantastic ideas-- and neal's not full up on self-control as it is, so two weeks of barely any sleep just raises great idea to best idea on his personal scale.

as such he's leaning against the wall behind his bed, pupils slightly blown. what is an intro he can't even. ]

Not we, my dear, you. I'm leaving you here.

You're what? Rhett, where are you going?

I'm going, my dear, to join the army.

[ his posture changes between; other than a few flat vowels slipping in as rhett, pushing for the accent seems a little too much and posture is good enough to convey the suggestion of gender, if you're careful. ]

Oh, you're joking. I could kill you for scaring me so.

I'm very serious, Scarlett. I'm going to join up with our brave lads in gray.

But they're running away.

Oh, no, they'll turn and make a last stand, if I know anything about them. And when they do, I'll be with them. I'm a little late, but better late than--

[ it's tricky to overlap your own voice, and his grimaces a little and shrugs as if apologizing for the lack of actual interruption in the scene. ( sleep deprivation or pretentiousness: the world may never know. ) ]

Rhett, you must be joking.

Selfish to the end, aren't you? Thinking of your own precious hide with never a thought for the noble cause. [ he yawns widely, skipping scarlett's line in the process. ] Why? Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for lost causes, once they're really lost. Or maybe, maybe I'm ashamed of myself. Who knows?

[ he pauses, body language returning abruptly to his usual. ] I missed something, there. Anyway-- [ and back to the show. ]

You should die of shame to leave me here alone and helpless.

You, helpless? Heaven help the Yankees if they capture you. Now climb down here. I want to say goodbye.

[ that makes him pause, one that extends out into another jaw-cracking yawn and neal slumps down even more, almost prone now. ]

There's more, but it's really better with someone else.

[ and he's out. ]

[ before clara speaks, she cracks her knuckles. this is big news and big business, so she speaks crisply, ]

Alright then, so, for those of you watching the network, Mr. Winchester was nice enough to sound the alarm on subnetwork shenanigans.

( ooc cut for copy/paste formatting and spoilers for the tumblrs, if you haven't checked them/solved the clues yet. )

Everyone stay the fuck away from the corridors around Space Babylon. [ voice clipped, the message short and sweet, right? ]

[ filtered to medical & SEC ]

There's a kid shooting up the place.


[ ooc; backdated to the evening, relating to this. replies will be slow i just wanted to get this up before work ]

[ as is his habit these days, robb appears with grey wind's massive form at his side, regarding the camera from robb's shoulder. the wolf doesn't move, stares into the camera even as robb shuffles through the things on his nightstand, takes a minute to gather his thoughts before speaking. ]

There were many different religions in Westeros, and since arriving here, I've learned of many more. None are familiar to me, though some bear passing resemblance to those gods worshipped by those of my land. I have attended the chapel, but all of it was strange to me, and I don't think I could swear to those gods as I have my own.

[ there's a pause. grey wind shifts restlessly at his side and robb sighs, tugs at the laces of his tunic until they loosen. ]

There's no weirwood aboard this vessel. I have prayed always to the old gods, and it is said that they would keep watch so long as a man did not stray from their line of sight. I have strayed far, though not intentionally. So what I wonder is if I swear to my gods, or bind two souls together in marriage, or ask a blessing upon my bannermen, do my gods still hear? Do any of our gods hear us, when we've wandered so far?

[ robb stops, takes a breath. he looks away from the lens, reaches as if to cut it off and then grey wind huffs, like a reminder, and robb adds, almost as an afterthought-- ]

Thranduil, I would speak with you, if you would spare me audience.

[ and then robb cuts off the feed. ]

[It's rare that Tyke makes a post to the network not looking annoyed, but this time there's obviously some attempt to smooth it over, to keep her tone neutral.]

Manfred von Karma's death has been found to be self-inflicted. Miles Edgeworth has been released.

[It looks like that's going to be it, because she doesn't want to explain the outlying circumstances or invite questions on Edgeworth's innocence. But then all of the annoyance she's been keeping tamped down rises to the surface, irritation clear in her expression and her voice as she continues-]

You find a scene like that, you report it to SEC, and you don't fucking touch anything.

[That's it. She cuts the video before her temper can get any worse.]

All right. It's all very intriguing, and I'd quite enjoy a chance to get involved with Communications, or have a look at those engines, and the science department is quite enticing, not to mention all the people here — yes, you lot, definitely a perk, lovely chatting with you all — but I've had enough.

[ enough of boring domesticity. enough of being trapped. no matter how many small projects he takes on it never gets any less dull, and the bigger one never resolves itself. one thread leads to another leads to another, and he knew from the moment tom mcnair told him about the pirates that there was more going on here than meets the eye, reaffirmed by neal caffrey's cryptic intelligences, but in the process of finding it he's getting itchy for real information. ]

[ so there's a strictness in his tone and a glint in his eye that is perhaps not strictly the best way to make his debut on the network (this debut, anyway) but he has a question he needs answered. ]

Now. Somebody tell me how I can go about speaking to the captain of this ship.

[ he adjusts his bow-tie, and waits. would he be the doctor if he didn't think he could work it all out where everyone else has failed? it would be delusional arrogance if he hadn't managed it quite so many times in the past. ]

[ anderson has come to terms with her presence here in as much as she can. there's a minimum level of information she's gathered from the guide, the network, peoples' minds. accept that which you cannot change, prioritize, move on; those are the principles she's been operating on for the time being.

so she faces the screen now, expression and voice even. ] We’re all from different worlds. I know that there are different justice systems in many of them. [ there’s a brief pause, a swallow. the hall of justice has been her home for a long time, being a judge is what she’s always wanted. the role of judges in her world is important, it’s necessary. she doesn’t want to see their reputation sullied by a comparison, but she wants to know this. ] Tell me about them?


[ ooc; annd a permission post for her too! ]

[The feed clicks on and there's a beat or two of Heather just sitting cross-legged on her bed before she starts to speak. The pause isn't nearly as dramatic as some others this jump, though; more like she's decided she needs to say something without quite deciding what it is she wants to say. Sure, by now there must be more people on board who never knew Hotspur than people who did, but he should be more than a cautionary tale about what happens if you don't get into a grav couch in time. He died trying to help everyone out of this mess, and that should be remembered.

When she does speak it's calm enough, although in a way that people who know her well will probably realize takes a little effort.]

Are we going to talk about what we heard before the jump? I know there's a lot to take in right now, but... something takes that much effort to say and it gets said anyway? We ought to be listening.

[ There is white and red and black, bone and blood and rotting flesh, when the camera first blinks on. Some fiddling, dirty fingers tapping at the lens then pulling it back reveals that the rot is not a human passenger but bovine; the cow that has been on board since Strela, effectively smashed by the jump by all appearance, but rotted already -- rotted for months, by the look of it. (For a year, its owner will tell you, and forensic analysis will back up her story.)

More fiddling, those filthy fingers and long strands of dirty golden-blonde hair (falling, from the looks of things, coming out in chunks and joining the cow on the floor of the ship) covering the lens until Jaye can look into the screen properly. Once again, she looks like a mess. It's worse, this time. Worse physically and mentally, and it's easy to tell by how she interacts with the camera, slides her thumb up over the lens and bobs her head like a bird. It's almost like she can't quite remember what she's supposed to do. ]

I heard voices, [ she starts, voice a hoarse, scratchy mess. Unlike last time she doesn't try to save it, pushes on as if she's talking to herself and her dead cow and not anyone who's listening. ] Are you back? It's been so long. I didn't mean to leave -- I couldn't get there. I was so close and just like him, just couldn't get there. The halls just kept going and then the ship screamed and I had to change before I did, too.

[ She shifts onto her haunches, rocking back and forth, not looking at the camera -- looking around instead, taking in how things look with eyes that aren't the compound eyes of an insect. One hand moves up to move some hair behind an ear and the hair simply falls down in strands, leaving a patch of bare scalp behind on her head. ] It was red again. Red and angry, so angry, the whole time. I didn't mean to do it this time, I didn't -- but I figured it out. They're the same, aren't they? Exactly the same. Trickster and hero and villain all at once. "Fear not, I will help you."

[ There's a laugh, then a sob, then both at once. ]

Don't be mad. A year isn't forty. Just-Like-Creator took the flesh and threw it over the land, and there grew the tribes of men.

[ One hand reaches for the skull of the cow, for the rot covering it, and draws. :) ]

((ooc: Explanation over here!))

[ neal takes a long time to prepare for this broadcast, even more than his usual. he's in the devore ( largely relegated to 'look, don't wear' by now ) for extra confidence. the usual fedora is off, though, the better to expose his new scar. there's an almost mocking edge to his charm, an aggressive tilt to his smile because the best way to handle your issues is pretend they're nonexistent.

he takes a moment to fuss with the cuffs before speaking, just to torment certain people ( cambridge ) more. ]

I know the representative from the great state of Montana already made his monthly PSA, but I thought I'd follow his good example for once and add my two cents.

[ his smile drops, eyes finally matching his mouth in full. ]

I wouldn't edge out of civilized territory if you like the idea of leaving the ship ever again, because the best option out in the wilds is agreeing to extend your stay as long as you're wanted. That's the shining light in the distance, and it comes at cost.

[ giving that a bit of a weighted pause, neal raises a hand as if to brush away the truly pretentious bullshit he just laid down and in an instant his smile is back, bright as if it never left. ]

Now that I've done my civic duty, I also wanted to mention I have a still and a reputation for being a deeply superficial person when it comes to my taste in aesthetics.

[ to wit: 'i make good shit'. the warhol shout out's for you, josh. ]

I'm in the market for... just about anything, really. Stories seem to be the currency of the day-- [ sup, madge-- ] So try one of those, if you want. The worst thing I can say is 'try the bar, their alcohol is free'.

[ his smile falters a little at the mention of the bar, but it's quick enough to go unnoticed. ]

I'd slip in a warning about the Kardashian menace, but reliable authorities tell me it's not as funny as I think it is. [ his expression clearly says: and look, i still think it's hilarious. ] But one PSA really is all I have in me, so...

[ with a little half bow he stole off robb stark, he's out. ]



( ooc | for the scar think roughly like peter's in five years gone, albeit more obviously new and raw. )

[Takeshi has had a lot on his mind, lately. Some days, he wants to run to his most precious people and hug them and tell them how much he loves them--some days, he wants to call them names only good little boys call the people who raise them do. But then there are some days where he gets scared: his dad at home loves him, takes care of him, supports him. He says Takeshi is his kid. Takeshi believes him. But now he's in space with these new... he wants to call them parents. They feel like parents--the good kind, he thinks, anyway. He's mostly just used to the kind that let him down. 

Do they like him back? Like a son? Do they even want a son? Is he being bad, having so many people he wants like this? What if--they go away, when he tells them all this? He's scared of being alone again. He doesn't want them to go away. So... he asks Reaper for a favor, and once the message is encrypted good and proper, he asks the community a few things.

Grown ups tend to know things like this, right...?]

[ENCRYPTED // LOCKED FROM HEATHER AND NETHERLANDS (sorry guys)]

I... There's one, two [he counts them off just in case y'all need that visual] people I like a lot on the ship that... I mean, I like everybody, but these two are special! Heder and Mr. Ned--he works in the garden--they take good care of me and give me food and give me baths and they're nice to me, 'cept when I'm doing things that aren't good to do. But that's 'cuz they protect me! They're not my real mom and dad--but should I... if--should I call them that? Will they still like me if I do? I don't want them to think I'm being bad. I want them to keep being like my parents... I wanna call them that...

What if they don't like me no more?

'Cuz before, I didn't have good parents. And then I found my new dad at home--he's the best and strongest!

Will he be mad if I had more than, than--just him as a papa? Will he be mad if I had more? Can I have two dads and a mom, even if I had real parents before?

[This is all just so confusing. He's not sure what to do. He re-counts off on his fingers, adding the other 'parents' in his life, frowning. There's his dead dad and his mom-who-didn't-like-him and her mean boyfriend--but he doesn't count, right? And then there's Kaze and now...]

I think I have too many moms and dads... I think that's okay... I don't know. What do you think? What should I do...?

...

I just don't want them to leave if I say.

[The feed clicks on to show Taylor sat in the security office. The jump usually leaves her unwilling to really deal with people for a few days, and she doesn't precisely look friendly, expression set level and maybe slightly annoyed. Not interested in messing around, which only becomes clearer as she starts talking.]

I don't do the welcome committee, so I'm gonna keep this short as. My name's Tyke, I'm first wave and I'm head of SEC here on the Tranquility. The Security team are here to keep you safe and alive, and we do that job because this ship is going to try and kill you, or maim you, or fuck with your head. You can be stupid, or you can help us out by letting us deal with the real problems instead of dealing with you.

The rules we enforce among passengers are basic. You don't steal or damage each other's belongings or the ship, you don't assault each other, and you don't kill each other. If you break any of these rules we will take action. Punishment is decided case-by-case - we have a brig, we run infractions by Captain Ward. So don't ask me 'what would you do if'. I'm sick of hearing it.

It's additionally strongly advised you do not enter the unlit central sections of the ship. Whole place is hostile territory, but the dark is where the real fucked up lives. So stay out of it, if you want better odds.

If you've got a fighting, military or police background, we could use your skills on our team. If you don't have any of those skills but are still interested, we offer training. But keep in mind what you're signing up for. I run recruitment, contact me or Miles Edgeworth to schedule assessment.

[A pause, and she glances off camera at something briefly before adding,]

There's a dog here. German Shep. [And because she knows what response some people might give,] No, it's not mine.

( [FILTERED TO SECURITY | ENCRYPTED 95%] )