[ Let's be honest, "fucked off" is a huge understatement. Oxford is walking and talking, stomping along the corridors of the Tranquility, irritated by how familiar he finds it now. It's a tactical move, of sorts. If he's going to cope with the space induced headache, he's going to do it in the mopey privacy of his own room, and certainly not the locker rooms. ]

It seems that I was under some misguided delusion that perhaps maybe one jaunt in space would be more than enough for one lifetime, but no. Here I am, once again, covered in this obscene blue goo and - even better - this time I have been denied my clothes. This damned heap of futuristic junk has an abominable sense of humour, providing me with nothing but cufflinks, a pair of shoes and, worst of all, a damned tie. The sheer audacity of this set-up simple has no bounds.

[ The stomping stops, just for a moment, emphasising Oxford's little pause for thought. ]

How accessible are the airlocks here? I've a strong temptation to see what an Asprey tie looks like drifting around the vast vacuum of space- [ he stops for a second; the thought of the endless darkness surrounding them at this moment makes his head pound that much harder and a certain nausea bubble in the pit of his stomach ] -ah, in all its royal blue glory.

[ S I G H. ]

Good day to you, Tranquility. How lovely it is to make your acquaintance once again.

[ wassup, tranquility. have a blonde teenager peering at you in a manner that best could be described as 'dreamy'. her hamster's still on the wheel, so to speak, but it just took a shitload of dramamine and it's going to take a little nap here in the shavings at the bottom. it's just resting its eyes, really. don't worry about it, go on with your business.

she has two Very Important announcements, so it's time for extra inflection. her voice is a whole three quarters of a notch or so above a monotone: obviously srs bsns is to be discussed. her speech sounds a little stilted, almost like she practiced it. ]

I'm sorry for Lord Tubbington. [ CRAZY SPINNING CAMERA ACTION as she flips her device to illustrate this point with a quick closeup of her entirely healthy looking cat, who is currently sprawled out in an untidy, napping heap on her bed. ] He has boundary issues. I'm making a banner to confront him about the pain his choices cause his friends and family now, but I need markers before I can finish it. [ what is she doing without actual supplies? it's a mystery. ]

And if this is the moon, where are the pies?

[ segues, she does them so well. will someone please explain to honeychild that all space != the moon. ]

[DUN DUN DUUUUUN! A masked vigilante appears on the screen. She has some very blonde hair and-- are those bat ears? She's also talking a mile a minute.]

Okay, so.... okay. We're obviously on a ship. In... space? With assigned numbers and communication devices. This would be a lot cooler if I knew the why and the how and the potential dangers. Mostly the why. Anybody get a 'why' yet? Not expecting something for nothing here, so...

Hey! I'm Batgirl. Would anyone mind giving me a tour?