[Hello Tranquility, have a grey-skinned, bull-horned kid with a stutter. He's tinged with a slight orangey-brown blush, because addressing an entire ship is kind of a big deal!]

Hi, everyone! Uh. I'm Tavros and as you can, I guess, probably see, I'm a troll. Or, if you can't see, please know that I am that. I do not want to exclude anyone, based on their preferred mode of sensory input.

So, I want to offer to anyone who is experiencing difficulty with an animal, because there are some on the ship apparently, my skills of communing with them, to better understand and change their behavior, and thus end any difficulties experienced. I, uh, definitely want everyone to know that I am here to be helpful in whatever way I can, basically!

[This is important! You don't get to be in the fleet if you're dead weight.]

On that note, the being-helpful one, uh, I guess since there are a lot of trolls now, and the ship has a lot of humans, or other species that now look human, if you have questions about how troll society works, I will try to answer them. Uh, our culture is pretty different, and misunderstandings may occur. Possibly someone has done this already, but I thought I would offer also. I am, uh, generally pretty open to cultural exchange, and that sort of thing, and it would, I guess, be good to work together while we're all stuck here.

Um. That's all. Bye.

[Okay, kid, good job, you did it. Now spend a willpower point to not throw the comm out the door and cower in your blanketpile.]

[Someone has found their way into Medical and has been quite busy making himself at home. There's a lot to catch up on here, but there aren't any dark circles under these eyes. Not sleeping is the best benefit to being plastic]

Right, so I think we need a list of species on board since not everyone is human. I know the genetic guys are probably doing something about that, but in the even of an emergency they won't be taking care of you. From what I've figured out this equipment is all based on human physiology; we need to know what to adapt.

Um, the engineers will probably need to help. Oh, and programmers. I can learn, but I'm not an expert. Doctor, if you have time to look things over that would be good.

Also, if you have medical needs you can and should let me know so that I can update the database. Everything is strictly confidential.

Oh, yeah, and I'm Rory. Williams.

Hola, fellow captives of the USS Gigantitude. How's everybody feelin' tonight?

[Wichita, clearly, is feeling a little drunk. Except for the part where she's not actually that drunk at all, but there are some benefits to acting like she is. Mostly having to do with being underestimated, that sometimes people took pity on the girl that's just so distraught by her plight that she felt the need to run to the bottle. And people were less likely to take her too seriously, even when asking questions she actually wants answers to. Easier to appear a little vulnerable, too. Whatever.

Not the most creative way to introduce herself on this cellphone network thing, and getting drunk is likely not the smartest course of action when she has no freaking clue where she is or where her sister is or how she got here, but, what the hell. A drink is a drink, and she couldn't get her hands on anything better, so.]

I know it's called the Tranquility or whatever, but I like Gigantitude better. It's more fun to say. Also because it's giant. Anyway!

I'm looking for my sister. She's about yay tall and has long hair and she's really cute and I'm kind of lost without her? Soo. If anyone wants to help me find her I'd be forever grateful and all that.

By the way, I'm Wichita. Her name's Little Rock. Or she might be going by the name Hannah Montana. Could go either way. --she's twelve, don't you judge.

Also hey, listen, is anybody else from a time when Earth is completely shot to hell because of a virus? Call it Zombieland because it's all full of zombies? Not undead! Just sick. But everything kinda sucks because of it? I'm getting way over being the only jerk that's had to deal with zombies. CauseImean. How's that even fair? Lemme know, please. This is important mostly just for the sake of my own sanity which, ahaha, I'm already questioning since I'm here on a spaceship.

[She makes a face at the camera, takes another sip of booze, then cuts off the feed.]

For the purpose and benefit of those aboard this ship as well as his own, I have confiscated Eridan Ampora's communicator until further notice.

[Eridan's voice can be heard vaguely in the background making comments about how Shadow should keep his nose out of other people's business.]

For those of you that are new, my name is Shadow, an agent of the Guardians of the United Nations. Those who were previously not human and in some way, organic or otherwise, I am offering my assistance to help you should you require any help in adjusting to being human.

[ There's a jostle, and a familiar, fluctuating voice can be heard. ]

Hang on, I think I fucking got it. It's all in my pocket and shit, all up in here. Cozy like a motherfucking rainbow.

[ He laughs, and it's more like a sputtering chortle and--yup, there it is. A tell-tale honk as the gray-skinned troll pulls the device out of wherever it's been--it looks like under a sheet of some sort--and there's a huge clutter of various things strewn around the room. One of which is the mattress that used to make up the bed. ]

Motherfuck, there we go. So hey, world. I've got something pretty motherfucking important to share with you.

[ And, in the corner, a pie tray filled with neon green goo, half eaten. One of his very last pies. And also in the background that's--

Yup. The second Sherlock Holmes. ]

All you motherfuckers, I've come to a realization. This ship. Is, like, a motherfucking case. We need to solve.