[ GOOD DAY TRANQUILITY. The screen flickers on to show a rather attractive albeit very naked Frenchman holding up one of the standard issue jumpsuits. ]

All right. Fine, I am obviously far away from home. I cannot feel the strong connection to my people, and the air tastes like metal. That is not my biggest concern. My biggest concern, to whomever put me here, is what am I to do with these? [ He shakes the jumpsuit in his hand, the material flopping over his wrist. ]

I will not wear it. I can not wear it. The colour is agreeable but the general design? It is worse than someone Chine would come up with. [ The jumpsuit is dropped and the video is moved to offer a little decency. At least now, the current inhabitants of the ship can only see him from the extremely hairy chest up. ]

So then, my question is this: is there any material in this place I may use to craft a new outfit? I will not wear clothes until then. [ And then a smile, a brilliant smile, one he's practiced many times and seems to walk the border of charming and creepy. ]

Aaa, and I should introduce myself, to any and all who may be listening: I am France, the country of romance, of love, of desire. I like to go on strike and make food for people! Perhaps if one of you would help me, I could help you in return? [ He doesn't really know how to use technology, so after a bit of fumbling and him jabbing at random things, the video finally ceases. ]

[It's been long enough since the grav couches evacuated that she's confident that she can put something like this out. She clears her throat after the camera clicks on before she starts to speak. She's nowhere near as groggy as everyone else, she guesses.]

[The video's unencrypted -- for the most part.]

Hopefully everyone's still with us. If anyone's noticed someone missing, I think we ought to let Ward and Resnik know.

That -- wasn't any less pleasant the second time.

[Not that she's surprised.]

[Standard Normandy-basic encryption (used on the Normandy itself), 85%:] Kasumi? Garrus? This seemed like the easiest way to get to the two of you without having to make encryptions with ping-flags. Let me know if you're both all right. [/Normandy]

[Any of the Normandy-encrypted stuff can be seen by other crew members from the ship - ie, Mordin and Joker - so feel free to jump in here!]

Let’s keep this short and very freakin’ sweet-- [There’s nothing sweet about the expression Dean’s wearing, disorientation and confusion written plainly for all to see. He looks like he’s less than impressed with this being the second time he’s come out of a grav couch -tank of goddamn goo- feeling like he’s about to fall over his own mind with how clumsy it is.]

Again? Seriously?

Fine, I wasn’t hot on bein’ splattered across the walls like a bad imitation of Slimer but... come on.

[He shakes his head and finally rubs a palm over his face. When he looks back at the feed it’s with renewed distance back in his eyes. There are new people around. New people with the potential of bringing new items on to Tranquility:]

Anybody got beer? Come see me. I’ll make it worth your while.



[FILTERED TO THE “UNOFFICIAL” SECURITY GROUP > encryption 89%]

I’m thinkin’ maybe we should re-group. See what’s what. See if anythin’ has changed. There’s new people skulkin’ ‘round the ship.

[Ataraxion, if you wanted a getaway driver from the streets of gangland, mobster-run London... well, you’ve got one now regardless.

Bob should probably be reacting with something a little more up the ‘fucking hell’ end of the scale, but he feels a bit sick and like he’s spent the last few days on a massive bender. More than that, he feels like his brain has been gathering dust, slow and sluggish where he’s expecting it to work a bit faster.

Everything seems to be just a little bit out of his reach, like thinking harder and trying to recall how he got in a weird looking pod thing with no clothes except his boxers... well, there’s kinky fucking shit and then there’s that. But even thinking as hard as he can manage despite the headache isn’t really getting him anywhere, the only thing he has managed is working out the new tattoo on his arm is a number that corresponds to a locker. And in that locker he found a jumpsuit, his lighter, chewing gum, his watch (now broken) and a car air freshener which all get shoved into the pocket of the outfit that makes him think of Formula 1 racing. At least he’s not mostly naked anymore?

But all of this culminates into the message he finally broadcasts to the network, unfiltered and unsecured. Anybody can find this if they’re looking...]

Think I might’ve fucked up somewhere back at Battersea. I... don’t exactly remember. Little help?

[There is quite a mess in the kitchen area. Sikozu is clean and dressed once more, so there won't be any naked orange ladies on this post. There will, however, be frustrated orange ladies]

One would think that a ship that insists on stealing people from across dimensions would ensure it was adequately supplied to feed those people.

[More emptying of a cabinet]

Everything here tastes like dren.

[She bit into an apple and promptly spit out the bite. Everything was fit for human consumption which wasn't necessarily Kalish quality.]

I think I'd rather starve.

[ DING ~ DING ~ DING; what kind of sound do the HIGHLY ADVANCED PA SYSTEMS EVEN MAKE OKAY? The sounds of ALAN RICKMAN and a thirteen year old cool kid grace your ears, Tranquility. Unfortunately this is over the PA Systems, and you can't unhear this drivel or set it to mute.

blue = sherlock
red = dave ]

I am not reciting the lines of your Earth's slam poetry, 'Bow Chika Wow Wow', David. The premise is ridiculous.

It's Dave. David is your bible-thumping cousin who lives with his mom, christ, and dude you literally just said it. Again, with feeling.

Yes, but we've been over this. I am not rapping out the rest of the song with you, or passing air through my mouth to make noises you deem as music.

I've told you it's called beatboxing and it's one of the finest arts known to mankind.

You wouldn't know fine art if Van Gogh hit you on the head with his missing ear.

If the dude's going around whacking kids with his own severed features then he's crazier than Art Attack made him out to be.

[ The sound of a face hitting a palm]

Welcome to Radio Free Tranquility, this is Dave the Rave and co-host: Sherlock Holmes. On the list of things I am not doing, appending myself with a superfluous title, Dave is under item twenty-two. Had you bothered to read my list- Shercock Homeboy.

( Your Announcements Behind the Cut )

[ We'll both be responding and tagging around! ]

Has anyone encountered anyone 'new' from their worlds on this jump that seem affected, ah-- with anything like-- temporary insanity? I know the grav-couched cause disorientation but this this level of delusion [not pronounced dah-lyuu-zion no matter if Megamind says it that way] is extreme! I don't know quite what to do.

She's not-- dangerous, I don't think, but she seems to have some very peculiar ideas about -- things. It's very entrenched! I mean, it's quite the rich hallucination. Seriously.