[ there's the rustling of fabric, and a breath before irene speaks. she's tapping something against her palm as she does, a steady counterrhythm to her words.]

So it seems we've managed to get through a jump without any unfortunate mishaps. What a lovely change of pace.

[The feed is a bit shaky at first and it’s difficult to tell what is actually being shown. There’s some one sided muttering on one end, as if the owner of the device is speaking to himself and it continues for several moments. Finally though, there’s a heaving sigh followed by some grumbling before the video swings around to show an albino with startlingly red eyes.

He’s holding out the device with one hand, the other obscured from view. If he had use of his other hand, he probably would have been facepalming or rubbing his face because clearly the last thing he wants in life right now is to do this.]

...So, uh.

[A pause and then he speaks to someone off screen.]

Do I really have to do this? Who gives a shit if I do this anyway?

[From behind him, a small hand reaches forward to touch his cheek. There might be a bit of blonde hair visible further back, but the hand is forefront, as if to say yes, he really has to do this, according to the girl he’s piggybacking around the ship.]

[He sighs and gives her another look before turning to address the camera again.]

So...I guess this has to be said to everyone that I, uh may have had a run in with the other day. [The look on his face is one of extreme discomfort and he pauses again. He knows what he has to say, it’s all a matter of him not wanting to say it so he casts a glance back at the person on his back.]

[Nill pulls her hand back so she can rest her head on his shoulder. She lets the side of her head fall against his; it’s meant to be a comforting gesture. The blonde smiles almost apologetically at the camera, wings fluttering behind her before settling. She just felt bad that he’d been looking for her so hard and that others might have been hurt or upset by it. So this is sort of an apology from the both of them. And to anyone who has met her (any male, specifically), they’ll probably notice that she doesn’t seem scared of him at all.]

[The gesture seems to make him soften slightly and he stops fidgeting if only for a moment. Nill was honestly the only person who could even make him consider doing this and for anyone who had run into him before would be able to see the difference having her around made.]

Look. Whatever happened the other day. I guess, I’m trying to say - [He pauses again, wincing before,] sorry?

[Nill leans back and gives a little nod. Yes, he was sorry, and so was she. Besides the fact that she hadn’t seen any of her other friends since the jump, she hadn’t meant to inadvertently cause any trouble. She takes one hand from his shoulder so she can gently smooth his hair forward. She was happy that he’d agreed to an apology.]

[He sighs and rolls his eyes but there’s a slight quirk of his lips. After a minute the video feed is turned away from his face and there’s a bit more shaky footage before it finally ends.]

[Heine and Nill will both be replying to posts! c:]

[ The video feed flashes on with a start, upside-down, to reveal a young redheaded woman—barely past her teens and dressed in animal skin and fur-lined clothing, no less—examining the network device closely and pushing random buttons and turning it this way and that, pink tongue catching between white and slightly crooked teeth in earnest concentration. Eventually she huffs in exasperation. ]

...Shit. Jon Snow told me he'd teach me how t' work this thing, but it's...augh!

[ She tosses it down on the floor irritably, and it just so happens to land right-side-up, and continues to record as she moves to the center of the room, where she's piled some pieces of wood and paper scraps. She sits cross-legged on the floor before the small pile and begins to rub two small pieces of wood together furiously, one piece shaped like a bow and another like a small plank, her shoulders hunched and red head bowed in concentration.

Finally, there is a tiny puff of smoke—and she yelps victoriously. She tips the small wooden plank and blows air onto it, fanning it. The small puff of smoke blossoms into a tiny flame...which gets bigger as she adds it to the makeshift pile of kindling on the floor, glowing brighter and hotter with each second.

And then suddenly it's getting larger, and smoke begins to fill the small room. Ventilation? Might be a problem. She puts her hands on the hips of her sheepskin breeches and cocks her head, coughing just a bit. ]

...Well, at least it's a cookfire, alright. That's something.


[[ooc: yes, Ygritte has started a small - for now - fire, in her room. Come stop her before she burns it down? ]]

[The video feed turns on to reveal a young woman with long, green curly hair, looking quizzically forward.]

What... What is this?

[Slowly, a fingernail moved forward to tap the screen, and Terra's eyes widened as she realized the device was indeed recording her... somehow.]

I... I don't know where I am. I don't know what happened.

[She's hesitant to ask for the names of her friends, in case something had happened, in case they were being hunted down. But even so...]

I heard we're in outer Space. But... I don't know how that's possible. What happened to the Earth? Is it...

[She swallows, thinking about it. The Earth. It had been destroyed, hadn't it? She attempts to shut off the device quickly, contemplating what this meant. Her friends, everyone she knew: gone. The entire world, both races she belonged to: extinct. Unfortunately, she couldn't figure out how to turn the device off. The video shows her face growing blank as she withdraws into herself, unknowing of how to cope with this.

Death. That was all she ever knew.]

[ tranquility, you may remember this woman from her first broadcast or from the various times she's popped up in others. those who know her are aware that you could have either gotten a woman who has barely anything on or someone who looks rather put together in whatever she happens to be wearing. the second option is the one she chooses to show off today, dressed in a white suit, with her hair done up in a deceivingly loose bun. off camera her nails are tapping a steady beat like she's waiting for someone before she finally speaks, her tone rather dry to start off with. ]

Since no one felt like stepping up and saying what I'm certain a number of us have considered, I suppose the task falls to me at the moment. [ she pauses, exhaling quietly before continues. ] For those of you who are new, most of what I'm going to mention makes little to no sense, but the basics for understanding what I'm saying lies in knowing that there is a list of certain individuals on this ship that, for all the geniuses we have present on board, no one has figured out the meaning to. The people on this list vary from those who are from the first jump, 001s if we're going by tattoos to those who came aboard on the sixth jump, the 006s, if we are, again, going by tattoos. 

I realize that no one wants to perhaps deal with the ramifications of what I'm about to suggest, but avoiding it may prove to be as damaging as letting it out into the open. [ another pause. ] There are eight individuals from the list that have taken their leave of this ship. Considering the fact that the list is comprised of 38 individuals, that is a bit more than twenty percent of it. A slightly distressing number when we're in rather confined space, if you ask me. I realize that only two of the individuals have officially died, but the other six have disappeared without warning, and though it pains me to say it, I believe you can't confirm that they're dead or alive. 

I'm certain some of you have already theorized this in private, but in the interest of disclosure, I believe we should share the theory with the metaphorical class. [ her lips curl into a bittersweet sort of smile and then she says it: ] It's beginning to look more and more like it is a hit list. Or at least a list of the individuals the one we call Smiley doesn't necessarily want on the Tranquility, which considering who is on the list, I must say, I'm slightly concerned.

This is just a thought, though. It's probably just a rather unfortunate coincidence. 

[ and then there's this really long pause before irene appears to have remembered something that she had meant to say. ]

Just out of curiosity, has anyone figured out how to charge a phone from home on this ship?

[ ...oh, hi. Finally, after what feels like forever - and boy, does he really know about that one - he's managed to access the video function of the device. He's thinking about naming it, but that's neither here nor there. For the most part, he's stretched out on his bed and panning it around the room to give everyone a nice view of his, otherwise, not so great accommodations. ]

Soooo. [ Give him a sec. He's trying to sound serious. ] I've definitely lived in worse, but this is all kinds of lame. I mean, what Circle of Hell did I crawl into? Not like it's real important or anything. Just, uh, curious...

[ Then, the video centers on him. He's somehow twisted the uniform around so it doesn't seem as restricting around the arms, and his hair is a wild mess of blond and bits of red. But the important thing is that he's grinning. Possibly a little strung out. Who knows for sure? ]

I've always been pretty bad about this sort of thing, but I guess I should state my name and all that. In case someone's keeping track. Name's Beleth. Well, no. That's not too accurate now. It was Beleth a looong time ago.

Bells is fine. B, E, uh. Whatever. Just Bells, and only Bells. Good? Good.

Now that we've straightened that out, I've got two questions for anyone willing to answer 'em. Number one: if I need to find a little lost lamb, just where am I supposed to look? Annnd. [ A smirk. ] Two: what's a guy to do for fun around here? Staring at the same stuff is bound to get boring after a while, and I'm already pretty bored.

[ He ends the feed with a yawn. ]

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[ the view is black when the feed finally enters video mode, but the sound well. that leaves much to be desired. whatever he's doing to make the communicator make that noise should definitely be illegal.

it's actually kindof. terrifying.

the camera picks up a handful of images of the oxygen garden as it spirals backwards and drops a few feet, sorry to those of you who get motion sick. the communicator comes to an abrupt stop on the ground (the clunk of metal on grass isn't as bad as it could be, but still isn't all that promising) and for a long stretch of moments, you're pretty much stuck looking at a tree trunk.

until-

a stick. s l o w l y turns it over onto it's back, and you get a nice view of the treetops overhead. guys we have a nice oxygen garden, it's really pretty in he- oh wait, nope, you're being rolled back over onto your other side now. silence, and on the other end of the feed, peter is leaning over to listen, which gives you a glimpse of a blond curl at the top of the video, before it's snatched away. WELP. he's satisfied that he's killed it. ]

O, the cleverness of me!

[Jim addresses the network with prim efficiency this jump. his voice, curiously, is devoid of most of the warmth and infectious rabel-rousing it normally has. instead, it's clipped and professional; the voice of a captain stating facts and orders. anyone who has been around a while will know that something is off, and as he goes on, it becomes clear why.]

Tranquility this is Jim Kirk. To anyone joining us, welcome, and to anyone returning, welcome back.

I know you all have questions. Myself and those who have been on board for a while will be happy to answer any that you have, but before doing so I'll clear some of the more obvious ones up.

You're on the space ship Tranquility, a colonization vessel in a parallel universe to your own. The year is 938 A.E., and presently, we have no way of returning anyone to their home continuum. We ask, instead, that you lend a hand in the running of the ship. This isn't mandatory, but we are all that's left of a crew. Even if you have no previous experience on a starship, we'll be able to find a place for you.

Attached to this broadcast is what we have of a map of the ship. It's a rough outline, as we've found corridors spontaneously change, commonly with each jump. I ask everyone to be cautious when moving about the ship, and to avoid engaging the entity commonly known as "Smiley" on board.

[here, the pauses briefly, the crux of his attitude coming to light.]

Presently, I'd like anyone with information on missing persons to come forward. Dean Winchester and Doctor Leonard McCoy have both disappeared from our number, and I have the feeling they aren't the only ones.

Kirk out.


( PRIVATE to OCTOBER BANTUM | ENCRYPT 80% )

SMILEY.jpg
MAP.jpg
JOBS AND RANKING.txt
ALPHA/BETA SHIFT.txt