_{[ Upon arrival, the only thing he could really think about was her. Her. Where did she go? Who was she? How could he get in contact with her again? The jump and whole waking up in your underwear fiasco was enough to send him in a tizzy, but Jake's mind was still focused on one thing and one thing in particular... and that was finding her. Never mind the fact he was in a whole new scenario here and off his island he had grown up on and never even left. He felt exposed and unprepared, and one could say he was actually freaking out right now. Still disoriented from the jump, Jake seems to disregard everything else besides her. She was the very last thing he remembered, and he wasn't sure what was going on. A glimpse of her, then he wakes up here, still feeling sore from a match he had with his sparring partner where he "royally had his ass kicked." He sends out a text to anybody, anything, and makes it sound urgent. ]}

Holy cheese and crackers! Where the blue blazes is this??
Ahoy there! Respond asap!! THIS IS AN URGENT MESSAGE TO ANY PERSONS WHO ARE RECEIVING. THOSE WHO HAVE EYES AND CAN SEE AND PROPERLY READ SHOULD CONTACT!! I dont mean to alarm anybody or anything who may read this so i beg of you to not get your knickers in a right bundle at my intense message but rather correspond to my plea!
IN CASE YOU HAVENT NOTICED WEVE BEEN KIDNAPPED! HOODWINKED BAMBOOZLED AND HIJACKED INTO SOME SPIELBURGESQUE VOYAGE INTO THE UNKNOWN!! As bloody ace and invigorating as it sounds forgive my botherations here whilst i send out an SOS to locate a certain person on this spaceship..

Right so here it goes! All im needing to know right now is if shes aboard this craft! The proper cerulean spider-chick undead damsel i was having a conversation with!
Well not exactly a conversation but we exchanged a smoldering glance at one another it couldnt have happened any more romantically than how it did. A picture-esque smashing blockbuster hit. Im near certain we were meant to be together like peas and peaches.
IF YOU ARE HER I WOULD SIMPLY LIKE TO APOLOGIZE GREATLY FOR MY DUMBFOUNDED EXPRESSION AND LACK OF WORDS TO CONVEY. I am typically quite the dashing chatterbox so pardon and excuse my mess!
Phew.
*Gently withdrawals a kerchief to*
Aw jeeze louise. They took my handkerchief too. Dag nabit.
How the devilfucking dickens do you properly operate such a queer device here??

[ As odd as it is, Jake doesn't question where any of his friends are or anything else. He seems rather intent on finding whoever it is he is looking for... even more so than asking where he is and how to get back home.
He's fiddling around with the communicator, turning it on for a moment. We see the carrier appears to be tanned and in his late teens with dark hair, and his face is bruised and swollen in some areas. It especially looks like the side of his mouth is busted. It statics and goes out after he swears a bit, but that's all we see.]

A friendly reminder that lest we wind up like the body the gentleman found earlier, it would be wise to keep an eye on each other.

We wouldn't want anything terrible to happen, would we? I certainly wouldn't.

[ Gwen is freaked. Gwen is so beyond freaked that she's not even sure what it is she should say on this thing. at first it was easy to play along like she knew why she was here, stumble around in the gooey locker room just like everyone else until she found the showers, found her locker, her clothes, her beloved iPad, as well as this new communicator. her labcoat and ID badge. only that's not the only form of ID she has anymore, is it? she has a number, a tattoo.

her mother is going to kill her.

still, this is the least of her worries, really. she needs to find out where she is, why she's here, how she's here. trying to blend with the crowd didn't help - everyone just seemed to go their separate ways, to their rooms or to- well, who knows? but there was no orientation, no 'welcome' desk, no explanation. just elevators that moved too fast and hallways that looked like the restricted areas of Oscorp, but with enough little differences to let her know that isn't where she is at all.

by the time she makes it to her room ( her assigned room, this isn't her room at all ), she's panicking. the kind of panic that only makes her confusion feel ten times worse, makes it hard to think, hard to do anything besides sit on her bed and wonder if she was stuck here, alone, without her family or Peter or anyone else. she's lost, there's no other word for it. there might be hundreds of people here with her, but she's lost, and alone.

time to find some answers. time to pull herself together, be polite, and direct, and hope that someone would be willing to explain things to her. and please, please let someone she knows be here...

and oh, by the way, she has no idea they're in space.

despite how hard she's trying to appear calm, her eyes are wide, voice a little rough. she's not about to burst into tears, but enough bad news might make her switch to text. ]

I'm not sure who's receiving this video message, which seems a little dangerous, but I thought this would be better than not attempting to use it at all. My name is Gwen, Gwen Stacy. About two hours ago, I was at work - one of Oscorp's laboratories, and now I'm... here. That's honestly all I know. I'm not hurt, and I don't remember being taken, it just- it's like I blinked, and I woke up in that giant tube.

So, I just have a few questions, if anyone wouldn't mind taking the time to answer them for me:

One: Where are we? In relation to New York City, specifically.

Two: How did we get here? I'm sure I should be more concerned with the fact that I had no say in the matter, but... I've only seen a chamber like the I woke up in once, and it was entirely experimental. Definitely nowhere near ready to be tested on humans. Any insight?

Three: Will I be home by 8pm? My mother's cooking dinner, and I really can't be late.

Thank you for your time.

I'm thinking of starting up a business. I dunno about you, but I'm rather parched for things to do between all the panic attacks.

[visual]

[Libby is nestled on the floor in the midst of machine components, tinkering with one particularly complicated looking bauble of wires. Her uniform sleeves are rolled down to her wrists, there are a few smudges of grease on her face, her hair is a bird's nest, and she looks extraordinarily excited. Screw alien abduction or whatever the hell this is, screw the freaks and monsters, screw everything--she's in a playground, the best one ever, and she honestly doesn't give a rat's fuck about it all.]

[Hence the video communication, because she has to talk about this radicalness with someone.]

Have any of you--Buddha fuck me sideways, people, this is just--[Whatever she's messing with sparks suddenly, and Libby laughs breathlessly as she drops it and brings her fingers to her mouth to suck on them.]

I thought alien abduction was supposed to be some motherfuck bullshit, not wicked rad.

[She leans forward and picks up her comms device, grinning like a lunatic.]

'Kay. Open invite: anybody who wants to come play with wicked sharpness, I'm in my place. 8, my number is 189. 'M Libby, and this is just--[she looks at the scattered components around her (where did she get all of th--oh, right, she snuck off and filched it from around the ship, because she is a terrible delinquent thief) with unfiltered joy, which is maybe the first time she's ever honestly worn an expression like that. And she doesn't even care that people will see, because she has toys. She has toys, she doesn't have to hustle, and she's been in a lot scarier places than this. Alien abduction can suck her left one; give her this over somewhere like Kahului any day of the week.]

Aloha, best kidnapping in history.

[text - loki - encrypted 95%]

( minion report )

[ irene adler is holding holmes' pipe between her teeth. it's perhaps a sign of her nerves that she isn't even the least bit smug about it, but that's nothing she'll admit to. ]

I'd like to talk to my Sherlock, if you please. And the good doctor as well. Though I do suppose I may as well invite the whole mess of you into this discussion, as you'll no doubt find your way into it regardless.

[ dear tranquility, you really do not want to even know this exists. your life could be so much better if you knew this didn't exist. tony's life (and sleeping patterns) would be so much better if he didn't know this existed. basically, this shouldn't exist but it does because tony stark likes poking his nose in things he shouldn't. alas.

in any case, tony has been sitting on this since he watched and listened to it after he got out of his pod and presented it to his ragtag team of superheroes + people who...aren't superheroes. if he's being honest, he thought about keeping this information to himself, because what good is it going to do. it's just going to make people panic when who knows what it actually is. then tony remembers a time when he didn't know something, he remembers when obidiah didn't tell him about that situation and he remembers how much it sucked to find out after the fact. so after a talk or two (or three) with individuals whose opinions he trusts (well not so much in riddick's case, but eh) he's finally decided on what to do.

before tony says a word to the network at large, he sends an audio clip entitled: that's not just static. what everyone will hear if they choose to listen to it is a loud screaming static that you'd think would come from the jump, nothing particularly scary, but when you listen closely you can hear actual human screams over the static. needless to say it's not a good thing. ]

Tranquility. Hi. I'm going to take a wild stab at guessing and say that we're all not blue and...most of us are alive except for that one dude who made the mistake of being stuck outside the pods when we jumped. Sucks to be him, obviously. By the way, new people, hi, those pods that you tumbled out of, yeah those are kind of important. Kirk will give you the run down on that because I'm definitely not the approved greeter.

What I am here for is to send you that little audio clip. For those of you who just hated that screaming static and shut it off before the interesting part, there's human screams in that little bit. I don't know how in the fuck they're there, but trust me, that's some human screaming going on right there. I'm ninety-nine point nine positive that's not from the dead guy if only because that seems way too obvious. [ also because his suit was nowhere near him at the time. ] So do us both a favor and don't try to even claim it because, yeah no.

That being said, I believe we can all safely say that this ship just a little creepier and I, for one, am kind of hoping we avoid any of the nice and devastatingly interesting occurrences that have happened on this ship like fucking clockwork every month. Seriously, one month of downtime wouldn't go amiss right now, I'm just saying.

[ private voice, stark encryption 100%, sent to natasha romanoff, thor, topher brink, captain america, jarvis, bruce banner, and riddick, and betty ross ]

None of you are to even breath a word about the video portion of this. This is already going to make people panic, and I'm not in the mood to be tossed out of airlock because someone decided to think that this was all my fault because our resident creepy shadow thing looked in the direction of where I was watching him. Until any of us know what the fuck that thing is, that's staying on the downlow.

And that goes for you too, Riddick. I know, shouting disclosure but mass panic not exactly what we're going for here.

[The video turns on to a rather up close view of someone's face.]

Is it on? How do I tell if it's... Oh, no, I think I got it!

[She brings the camera away to reveal more than just her nose, then. She's sitting on the bed with a nervous grin, trying not to show just how frightened she is about being here.]

Hi! Um, my name's Ahiru, and I just got here a little while ago. I still don't understand everything about this place, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who helped me when I first showed up. My head feels a lot better!

[She giggles before continuing on, though it's halfhearted.]

Um, anyways, I know we haven't found a way out yet, but I want to help in any way I can. So, if anybody has an idea on what I could do to be able to get us all home faster, I'd be really grateful. I'm not very good at very many things, but Miles said I might be able to help take care of some of the little kids here, reading to them and stuff.

B-But, if there's anything more important I could do, I'd definitely be willing! I mean, I have to go home soon, it's really more important than anything else to me, so I would do almost anything if it meant there was a chance we could leave faster, because this place really isn't where I need to be, and I won't know what to do if—

[And then she gets overexcited, leaning forward so far that she promptly tips off her bed, falling to the ground with a thud. The communicator hits the ground, too, switching off.]

[ The video is turned on, showing a woman with short blonde hair with a serious expression on her face. Her arms appear to be crossed over her chest, number obscured by the way they’re settled. ]

My name is Carolyn Fry. I am [ and here there’s a slight pause, her posture straightening ] the captain of the Hunter Gratzner and a pilot. I’d like information on the layout of this ship, the shuttles, the chain of command, and everyone’s experiences here. I want to know what I’m dealing with, or at least be as well-informed as everyone who’s been here for a while. Don't worry about saying something that someone else might have already said; I'm interested in your personal experiences, as well.

[ There’s another pause here. ] Thank you.

[ One hand moves, as if to shut off the feed, but then Fry adds something else. ] And Riddick? I'd appreciate it if you spoke up, all things considered. [ You know exactly what she's talking about, big guy. And next time you're trying to hide yourself from people, work on not having such a distinct voice. ]

( OOC Stuff :3 )

This is... ah, unfortunate
That is... it reflects badly on those that trained me that I must resort to this
Regardless
The after effects of the "jump" are effecting me strangely
In short I cannot strongly grip what is real
At the moment
Usually I don't struggle at all with solipsism
Hm
Could someone please come find me
I cannot lift my gun
Thanks and apologies,
Krios.

[End recording.]

[Jesse appears neither excited nor distressed. He actually looks mostly tired, which maybe is to be expected from a new arrival. He's slumped over on his new bed with his chin resting in his hand, mumbling around his fingers:]

Yo. I'm Jesse. Albuquerque, New Mexico, U.S.A. 2009. Whatever. Holler if you know me.

[Is he bored or something? He acts as if this is routine.]

First thing: if there's any monsters and aliens and shit I gotta be looking out for, gimme a heads-up.

Second: anybody wanna grab some food? Is there food or is it all freeze-dried bullshit? I had freeze-dried ice cream once and it was totally lame, so like, please tell me they got burgers up in here. Funyuns? Something?

...Did I make it to the next level?

[Anna is all too familiar with these strange devices, appearing in a video clip with her red hair tied back as best she can with how sticky it still is from the pod fluid. She's half dressed, the uniform on, but unzipped low in the front as she peeled off a layer of blue goo from her chest where it got caught in a hand print shaped scar deeply marked in her skin. Frowning she flicks it off unto the floor.

There is a badge pinned to her waist though, clearly police force by the shape with the words S.T.R.I.K.E. visibly embossed at the top.]

At this point making it to a shower would be enough. Purgatory did at least provide them in the past.

[ There's a woman staring steadily into the screen, hinting the slightest bit of weariness as she fumbles with a strand of hair behind her ear. Perhaps in a hurry to tidy herself and calm her nerves. "It was a very rude awakening on the Tranquility," her expression says. But she will carry on.

She speaks, her voice unwavering and professional. An interview: ]

My name is Dr. Elizabeth Shaw and I woke to find myself on a ship not like my own. [ "It wasn't really my ship, but theirs," she almost corrects. ] I'm not entirely sure how long I've been in stasis, but some time ago I was part of an expedition with the USCSS Prometheus to LV-223. We sought out the answers from who we may believe may have engineered us... mankind. Our creators. But the ship and crew— [ Charlie. ]

If anyone could be of help to my own questions, where I am and if there's a chance if anyone, anyone at all, happened to come across an android by the name of David... please contact me right away. Thank you.

[ She blinks back at the screen, blinking away an afterthought she almost expresses with a gaped mouth, but instead reaches over to end the feed. ]

[ Several people on board have met Data already, however after this jump there have been a few small changes, namely when he activates the viewsceen there is a large ginger tabby cat taking up most of the shot. ]

Down, Spot.

[ Even after all this time, Data still doesn't have his cat 'trained'. It is a bone of contention with him, actually. He reaches up and lifts the cat into his lap, frowning. He should be happy, but having Spot on board causes all kinds of issues. ]

I discovered Spot in the Jump Bay shortly after my arrival, however I am at a loss as to how I am to be expected to convince her to behave herself without the necessary feline treats. Nor am I certain how to provide her meals, given the absence of a replicator on board; Spot requires quite specific dietary supplements.

[ The cat wriggles out of Data's arms and jumps out of view, and for a moment Data's eyes follow after her before returning to the screen. ]

Further to having been delivered my violin, I wish to propose a meeting of the musicians on board. Aboard the Enterprise, a short recital was often performed for those interested in attending each Friday, and it may not be outside the bounds of possibility to do much the same thing here, should there be sufficient interest.

[ The video snaps on to a blur and a big hand holding it out at arm's length, and at the end of that arm is one John Casey with a certain ship's geek - Chuck Bartowski - headlocked under the other. He finds something to put the viewer on so that he can draw his gun - a silver on black SIG Sauer P226 - out of its holster, placing it against Chuck's neck, and growls under his breath at him. ]

Stop squirming so much, Bartowski, otherwise I really will end up shooting you, and it's no fun if I do it accidentally.

[ Chuck had never liked being held at gunpoint, but it's not as if this was the first time this had ever happened over the years, which was only one reason why he looked so calm about this. The only thing that made it any different than usual was being put on film while doing so and Chuck elbowed at the other man, squirming anyway. ]

Look, Casey, I really think there are better ways to deal with this than threatening to kill me, and it's not even gonna get you out of here. Now if you would just put the gun down…

[ A fierce grunt of disgust cut Chuck off mid-sentence, Casey narrowing his eyes at his friend, only to turn that same withering look on the camera. ]

I'll put the gun down when I'm good and ready. Listen up, whoever you are; I don't care if you're aliens or Communists, but I suggest you find a way to get me back to Burbank, otherwise I can't be held responsible for what I might do. [ And he might just be squeezing Chuck's neck a little bit harder between his forearm and bicep to illustrate his point. In response, Chuck makes a wheezing sort of noise, stopping his shoving at Casey so he doesn't end up turning blue before too long. ]

Nobody has to worry about Casey, he's not actually gonna hurt me, I promise. He's a friend from back home, he's just a little trigger happy, you can ignore him. Right now, I mean. Not any other time. [ a beat ] You really might not want to ignore him any other time.

[ This time Casey reaches out his gun hand to take the device back, and as it spins before it goes off his voice is audible over the feed; a deep gutteral growl: ]

Idiot, Bartowski, now we have to start over, and maybe this time I will shoot you just to prove I mean it. How do you record over-- [ The feed cuts.]

[ Niall. Hates. Gadgets.

It isn't that he can't use them, he can -- was quick to learn and familiarise himself with human things as they developed.

He just finds them irritating. People pay more attention to their damnable gadgets than to where they are walking half the time, which is irritating, and insist on barely comprehensible shorthand. That, and he prefers a face-to-face conversation that he can be in control of. Where he can twist and weave words more comfortably than inane text conversations.

This ship is annoying. The fact that he has no idea how he got here is annoying, and he has no doubt the people on it will be even more irritating on top of all that.

Still.

The best way to go about these situations is to read up on the environment as much as possible. Which Niall does, quickly absorbing the information and sighing with increasing frustration. Promises, promises. Everyone can go home eventually. Aside from mysterious diseases and anonymous puzzles and suspicious deaths and screams in the darkness. Niall glowers at his device, then raises an eyebrow as he debates how to go about this. Maybe it will be a little fun after all. ]

Riddle me this, then. Over 200 people aboard this vessel who have awoken here, 2 original crew members and a person of unknown origin fond of red typeface who appears to know more than the rest of you. With strength of numbers in your favour, I would say it appears strange you are unable to disentangle this with greater speed. Perhaps a more strategic approach may help? Or a more intelligent one. Has anyone begun to collate trends, patterns, pooled knowledge and moved beyond generic reactions of horror? I'd hate to put effort into repeating that which has already been done.

Screaming wastes both time and oxygen.

[A mess of black hair encompasses the screen, slightly tangled and dishevelled still, until the device is pulled back. Blue eyes peer out from beneath that hair, solemn and angry without the slightest trace of warmth. Clearly,  he's still not happy and from what he has seen of this place, he is utterly confused. Just how big is it... and what is it? Like nothing he has ever seen.

There's something muttered under his breath, sounding more or less like 'lord of light' if those watching happen to be listening closely. There is a gruffness in his voice as he is not used to having tubes shoved down his throat - let alone any of the other things that he had awoken too.

To those of Westeros, his face may very well bear a striking resemblance to those who knew the late king or even the Lord Renly.

To Gendry, he's just some bastard son born to an alehouse worker.]

I don't know what type of a ship this is... I never paid for any passage. And I'm not going too.

[A challenge there, as if daring someone to say something, suspicion etched across his features. He still doesn't quite believe what he has seen. It is too far out of his realm of knowing to make any sense at all. All these strange and foreign objects...]

I don't know why I'm here or why I was sent to some passenger's quarters. I'm just a lowborn 'prentice smith and I never did nothing to anyone.

[Unless someone knew about the Brotherhood... But then why would he be alive. His brows furrowed, a pained expression as he thinks some more.]

So just return me to the Crossroad Inn. ... or point me in the direction. I'll walk the rest of the way myself. Just want to be left in piece in my smithy.

[Note to self: Throwing the thing against the wall? Apparently turned it on.]

'Bout time.

[The voice is irritated, yes, but no more than that, and the Cockney accent hasn't slipped into harsh anger.

He picks up the device. Tries pressing a few more buttons.]

Think that's got it, then.

[He's calmer now. Perhaps because the device decided to work.]

I'll go ahead an' offer an apology now. Don' know if I'm using this thing right in the slightest. Still, thought it best I introduce myself, and seems this might be the way to do it.

[Victorian gentleman does not like this thing. At all.]

Colonel Sebastian Moran, formerly of the First Bangalore Pioneers. Retired. [And dishonourably discharged, but he dares any one of you Victorian lot to mention that. Go ahead, try it.] Last I knew, I was in Switzerland. So, bit of a shock, all this.

Space, though. Still can' quite believe it.

Don' suppose there's any part of this ship where a man can get a view, is there? [He wants to see it for himself, if there is... and he knows that if Professor James Moriarty is to be found on this God-forsaken thing, that's where he'll be. Somehow or another.]

[ when the screen turns on, there's the face of a very pretty ginger — pretty but annoyed. she looks like she's done this a hundred times. maybe she has. maybe people will recognize that. or just her face. she hopes. ]

Right then. Enough of this rubbish. My name's Amy Pond, and since apparently nobody's in charge I can't really ask, 'take me to your leader; I come in peace.' And all that.

[ a beat, as she takes a quick glance around. come on, she's on an spaceship. it's got to work at least once. ]

So, I want to know if anybody's at least seen an alien wearing a bow tie. Except he doesn't look alien, he looks human. He's called the Doctor. If he's out there, then he better show his backside right now.

[ she looks like she might cut the message short right there, but another thought occurs to her. she lifts her eyebrows, lips pouting into a perfect 'o.' ]

Oh, sorry. Err, one more question. It's actually really important. Did anybody here come from Canada?

[Though she's calmed down considerably, since awakening to find herself on a spaceship (of all places), this Beauty still regards the camera in a very nervous manner. Though she manages to mostly draw her attention to the screen, she still occasionally darts a look to the left or the right, as she's expecting something to attack her at any moment.]

Haha... hahaha...

[Get used to this laughter, because you're going to hear a lot of it from here on.]

So this -- [A small pause, while she exhales.] -- this is really space?!

[She spits out the last word in wonderment, still not knowing how to grasp this concept. Her brows crease and her eyes widen in disbelief as she goes silent again, really not knowing how to follow up a question like that. Sarina just simply stares at the camera like that, for at least a few good seconds, as if the question would just answer itself.

Eventually, she breathes out through her nose, while her lips tightened at the urgent matter that's been plaguing her mind, since she awoke.]

A-anyway, I don't know how the fuck that's even possible -- eeheeheehee -- but from my understanding, none of us know. But - ah - I was wondering... has anyone seen my suit?

[She lifts one hand up, waving it excitedly as she began to describe it.] It's maybe a foot or two taller than I am -- haha -- and then probably a circumference of two or three feet wider than me. It's kind of a green-like color and it's got a lot of straps to it. Ahahaha -- but the most recognizable feature should be the tentacles - they're probably a foot round, metallic, and there's four of them.

[Looking troubled, she glances away from the screen, dropping her hand down as she continues.] I... I don't know how I'm still alive without it -- eheh -- but I need it. So please... let me know if any of you have seen it.