[ Not locked, no frills. Just out there. Yup. Tranquility, meet Aberdeen. And she's got shit that needs doing, so: ]

doctor john watson_
ratchet_

respond.

[Viewers are greeted by a charmingly dashing white smile, easy and confident without being cocky, shining blue eyes and the face of a 1950's matinee idol. He's dressed in his customary outfit of braces and greatcoat, his very presence commanding your attention]

Hey there, kids. So it's come to my attention that there are some of us a little more used to this whole traveling in space thing, am I right? I mean. There are some of us on here who have literally never even heard of the idea, which. Is charming, really it is. But that means that this whole Tranquility thing has gotta be more than a bit of a shock. So here's where I'm going to be taking a poll.

How many of you are familiar with travel in space? How many of you have heard of it, but never dreamed you'd do it yourself? How many of haven't even dreamed of traveling the stars?

I figure if we cover that much at least, we'll be able to determine how many of us need a bit more explanation than the fact that we seem to be on some sort of large passenger vessel traveling through some undetermined part of some unknown galaxy. Vague, I know, but I haven't exactly found a viewing screen yet, have you? That's where the rest of us come in. Maybe, with your help, we can figure this all out.

[He goes to reach forward to turn off the video feed, before a thought comes to him and he stops, a more mysterious look in his eyes as he does] I don't suppose that any of you are familiar with time travel...?

[ Good morning, Tranquility. If you hadn't been down to the hangar deck yet then over Hotspur's shoulder you're getting a glimpse of what it's like. A cavernous space, designed much in the same style as the rest of the ship, full of thick shadows and plenty of dead air space stretching out towards the elevator platforms. It's largely deserted – Hotspur has a bad habit of working the night hours, regardless of however creepy it is down there – except for the sleek hulks of shuttles in various states of disrepair. Post-jump, Hotspur looks animated, excited; he knows each jump is getting them a little closer to where they need to be – and if it's bringing in new potential crewmembers then all the better. ]

Hey, crew. How are we all doing? I know a whole bunch of you have had friends and family from back home turn up in the latest jump so I just wanted to check in – have we had anyone from Midgard Corps turn up? [ He's hopeful; gods, he's so freaking hopeful, it's written all over his face. ] Anyone from the Asgardreid? Hell, if there are any kind of pilots brought in from the new jump from anywhere it'd be good to have you down in the hangar decks. Flight engineers, too. We got a whole load of busted birds down here and I reckon we'd be doing a world of good if we got 'em all fixed up and flight ready. If anyone's interested then take the purple elevators and come find me – Hotspur. I'm filling in as flight officer until the rest of the old crew returns.

[ Yeah, crew returns. That's exactly what he believes is going to happen here. And then, because he really wasn't paying attention to the creepy door while he was busy being disappointed at the stowaways: ]

Talking of which, did anyone figure out who wrote 'hello' on that door?

[ ooc note : open to action tags if people would like to come and explore! ]

[ What with two face-twins floating around somewhere, Tommy's face may seem familiar to you (though the accent isn't). But then again, it might be hard to tell given that Tommy looks exhausted and on edge, like he hasn't really slept since he arrived. (He hasn't; dealing with being in space and dealing with the fact that his shoulder somehow healed up in a matter of hours when it should've taken days has been a lot to deal with.)

He also looks uncomfortable. Hunched in his hoodie which he's pulled on over his jumpsuit, he doesn't look directly at the camera but at a point slightly below it. ]

So where's the gym?

[ He glance up at the camera for a moment but, yup, that's all he's going to say. ]

[ Hello Ax, have a slightly nervous – yet trying like hell to keep her calm – looking Ariadne. She is just going to be looking into the device a moment, as she attempts to figure out what exactly she wants to say – or really how she wants to word her thoughts. (She has a lot of thoughts right now, okay?)

A small smile, slightly forced, but nonetheless a smile appears on her face then, as she takes a deep breath finally speaking. ] Would anyone be willing to create a roster of sort of – a passenger manifest of some kind? [ A pause, brows raised hopeful, as she is going to be looking into the screen, just wanting to give everyone a moment to think this idea over. ]   It seems like a good way to figure whose who here.

[ Her nose crinkles slightly then, as she quickly moves on to her next thought. ]  And I’ve been working on those maps and I’m wondering if anyone has anything to contribute to them -- namely in the area of that creepy door?

If you have any would you let me know? I’d like to get the maps fully drawn out soon.

[ jenna's more than a little perturbed by the recent realizations-- doors with messages on them, missing people-- but she still tries to pin on a happy face for her post. it's a little wilted around the edges, but sincere all the same. ]

So, in my grand tradition of beating a dead horse: welcome to the Tranquility, new kids. And... welcome back to the rest of us, I guess. If we haven't met already, I'm Jenna.

First order of business: a couple of us have been putting lists together, and maps. Maybe we should throw them together? One stop shopping style, easier for everyone. Oh, and: if you're new, or if this is your second jump and you're antisocial, please just put your name on a list. I don't care if the name is fake-- although anyone claiming to be named Seymour Butts gets the door-- but just give us a name so we can know you're here.

Last time around, we had a party slash movie night. Anyone up for another one? Booze, food, making some connections-- nothing wrong with that.

[ she taps her fingers against her thigh, clearly trying to think if she's forgotten anything. ]

Oh hey, while I'm at it-- does anyone have a hoodie they'll trade for?

( flagged to those around for the first jump )

( text ; private ; hackable )

( voice ; private to dr. john watson ; hackable )

[Oh. It's this guy again.

Though Wheatley is, at least, wearing clothes now, the concept of grooming seems to have escaped him entirely--he's arranged haphazardly in a chair, his jumpsuit is only half-zipped, he's unshaven and barefoot, his glasses are askew and his hair sticks out at odd angles in wet clumps--perhaps a "DOCTOR WATSON I AM CAPABLE OF A SHOWER" more than anything else.

Ladies.]

Uh, yes. Hello. As my, um. Colleague, HAL, so eloquently mentioned earlier, it is possible that some of you new arrivals might be experiencing a form of…bodily displacement. Don't be alarmed! Well. Do be alarmed, because this is, actually, rather alarming, but you're not alone! I'm one of you--provided you are an artificial intelligence or…a robot, or something of a computer-like nature. I am here to help.

See, once upon a time, I asked Doctor Watson if he could possibly provide me with a list of--of everything humans need to ensure continued survival. And--and do you know what he told me? Told me it couldn't be done. Said, [He lowers his voice--this is obviously his Watson impression.] "Wheatley, it can't be done". Told me to come see him, instead.

Did some thinking. Decided if there wasn't a list--and obviously the humans have no interest in making one--I could fill the void, as it were. Needed to learn how to type anyway, had my little mental catalogue of human design flaws, figured I could do that thing with the birds and the stones. So good news! There is a list now, based on my, um. Observations. And experiences. It exists, because I wrote it, even though they told me it couldn't be done. Did it anyway--that's me, every day, doing the impossible.

Right. Sending it out. To all of you. Nnnooow. Typed it up myself, did I mention that? Fingers.

( very scientific observations by wheatley.txt )

Hopefully you'll find it educational, straight from one of your own. I mean, you could go down to medical. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. I do, however, have it on good account that the blokes there enjoy assaulting unsuspecting computers and tossing them in bathtubs without any--without any regard or--or consideration for hydrophobia that. May or may not have resulted from untold decades of being made entirely of metal and circuitry. Insensitive, that.

But, you know. Your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you.

[VIDEO OVER THE END. Wait no he's back.]

Oh, um. Mister Johnson wanted me to. Let everyone know that if you have not filled out an Enrichment Center Test Subject Application, please do so and send the completed form to either Mister Johnson or myself at 001-043 or 001-089, respectively. We appreciate your cooperation; thank you for helping us help you help us all.