As pointed out in a recent transmission, there are some individuals here who resemble one another. There are others whose worlds are similar to others', while others still have worlds that differ radically.

The following is a survey designed to attempt to determine whose worlds are most similar to whose. As a full disclaimer, I am not a trained sociologist/demographist, nor do I claim to be. My credentials extend no further than merely dabbling in disciplines related to those and having studied the science of writing the census briefly when I was younger. Nevertheless, I believe this may be a useful diagnostic tool.

I would encourage everyone who sees this to take a look at others' responses. If you see something familiar, please discuss with the other individual what that similarity is; from there, please try to determine just how similar/different your worlds are.

This is completely optional.

( The survey can be found after this break in the text. )

I've been here long enough to know that alternate and parallel universes exist. I can say with confidence that this ship holds multiple versions of the same person; for instance, there are three Sherlock Holmeses and three John Watsons. Naturally, each correspond with their own Sherlocks and/or their own John. As the months go on, it will be increasingly difficult to tell between myself and others, which is why it's handy to have our communicators. With each message, your unique number shows up underneath the initial post: this is a good way to ensure that you're talking to the 'corrrect' Sherlock (though know that we share our devices when the whim strikes us).

In short, stop being stupid.

Now, onto my initial reason for addressing the network: I have experienced several different memories that differ from my dopplegangers. Because of this, we can assume that there are subtle differences in behaviour, reactions and interests. Whilst we remain the same in many ways, those differences might end up defining us (which is frankly appalling, but then who am I to judge a 'thriving' civilisation of six months?). I am the third Sherlock Holmes to arrive, though my likeness is shared with only one. An intriguing phenomenon, but our memories are reasonably inconsistent.

I've decided to tell you about my stay on the island of Atia, though I intend to make it quick. I have in my posession the communicators we used to talk to one another. Whilst the connection to the network has been severed, a few things still remain, such as the guides thrown out to every new comer in order to save both time and effort. You may have gathered that this island is of a seedy virtue, and your impressions are entirely correct: we were forced into collars like animals, prodded and poked into actions one might not normally take were they under their usual inhibitions. As the strange little rabbit wearing a dress says, it was not a holiday.

And yes, I'm aware that both guides are incredibly hideous.
SH

P.S: A certain prosecutor has insisted that I put up a warning for those that are of a certain age and/or for those that have a weak stomach. Personally, I think 'don't be stupid' covered every base, but apparently one can't be too sure.

Transferring... guide.pdf

_{[ ooc: link is nsfw. sort of. ]}

Dr. McCoy here, and this is a general announcement about something I think everybody on this ship could stand to hear about. So if you don't mind, I won't take more'n a minute of your time.

I know you're all gonna say you're adults and don't need any lectures 'bout the birds and the bees. But I also know that most of you are inherently reckless and tend to think you can beat anything that tries to pull you down through sheer stubbornness. I got no illusions that recent events will have hammered any common sense into places it never resided in the first place. And it's a fool's errand to think for one minute any of you are gonna abstain from sex just because there are risks. So let's address how you can avoid those risks, and we here in Medical can avoid wasting our time doling out STD treatments.

First things first: birth control, condoms, basic supplies for intercourse. Yes, we have 'em, and yes you can get 'em from us. All you gotta do is ask. See? Easy.

Second: sexually transmitted diseases. I can guarantee not a single person on this ship can name every STD lyin' in wait out there. We're from different places, different times, different species. A minor rash for one person could be deadly for another, so takin' a few minutes to get informed and take the right precautions just might be the difference between a decent sexual experience and a ship-wide outbreak of Andorian shingles. So I'm uploading some pamphlets, and I expect you to all take the time to read 'em.

Third: testing for sexually transmitted diseases. If you've been havin' sex since you came aboard and you haven't been tested, get down here and get tested.

[ This portion of the transmission ends with an uplink to a number of STD pamphlets, courtesy of Starfleet Medical. Imagine something like this CDC site, but with a lot of alien diseases added.

The second portion of the transmission is flagged to the Medical Staff AND those characters who volunteered in Medbay during the stasis sickness outbreak. ]

Okay, with that out of the way -- at the moment we have exactly zero patients checked into Medbay. Which in my mind makes this as good a time as any for a good old-fashioned We Ain't Dead Yet celebration. If you're on staff or you volunteered during this last crisis, you're invited. Feel free to bring a guest if you want, but keep in mind it's BYOB and I'll sedate anybody who gets out of hand.


[OOC: Yes, it has been confirmed that Medbay has birth control, condoms, lube, feminine hygiene products, etc. As far as the Medbay party, if your character is officially on the Medical Staff or you ICly OR OOCly arranged for them to be volunteering during the recent modplot, consider yourself invited. Plus-ones are also welcome. There will be a log shortly, which I will link here. Log posted here.]

[ The video feed opens on one of the rec rooms - specifically a bar area that had been left for passenger use previously, and Justin’s panning the camera on his device along the row of liquor bottles remaining there like showing off a finding of treasure. ]

After many days of hard searching and devotion of hours upon hours of testing structural beams for pole dancing, we’ve found it, Tranquility. A space for a space-club. [ Cue Justin flashing the camera back to him for a melodramatic 8O face before twisting it back to the drink collection. ] So now you can have a place to fully support your bad decision making away from the prying eyes of cops and lawyers and the morally righteous.

Where you can step out of your every day roles and responsibilities and into a carefree, non-judgmental, leave your expectations at the door zone. [ it is a significant prize, despite the gaps in the rows of alcohol. he runs his palm over a counter top, smooth and freshly cleared of dust (like the bottles) and he flicks what he imagines is glitter into the open room, before turning his eyes on the camera from where he's standing behind the bar. ] Just because we've all been abducted and infected (and to some degree traumatized) doesn't mean we don't deserve to have any fun while we're stuck here.

[ no what, he is copyrighting this gigantic fuck you, too smirk. ] We're opening our doors to everyone on board (save for the infants and the preteens with pacifiers glued to their tongues) to—

To drink your sorrows away, dance your sorrows away, use cheap as fuck pick up lines on people way too hot for you your sorrows away, whatever floats your boat, we really could care less. [ Said with a wave of a tequila bottle that he pulls out with a glass, going about setting up a drink. ] The only thing is, we need a sound system set up and a bar keep, seeing as, while I make a kickass margarita, I’d rather enjoy my youth and not be behind the bar at all hours.

Oh, and, pole dancers not included - so you’ll have to get your ass drunk enough to do that yourself.

We're looking for someone to rotate, between the two of us. As for the questionable matter of pay, it might have come to your attention that we're extremely lacking in the economy department. If donating your time to a worthy cause doesn't do the trick, we can negotiate the cost, barter our way to hell or you can realize that this job doesn't have a dress code or a zero tolerance policy on being shitfaced on the clock. [ this is his cue to snag a bottle of Jim Beam, twist the lid and join Justin in clinking their glasses together. ]

A toast, to the temporary end of the ongoing: what in the fuck is there to do on board, aside from staring at the wall and/or pissing away my time?