[Larry is sitting cross-legged on his bed in his cabin, looking pretty bored. He tries to put on a grin that ends up looking more sheepish and clueless than anything, and takes one more moment of valuable transmission time to glance up at the ceiling, presumably in thought. Then he sighs, and faces his device. At least he is no longer panicking the way he was during his first few days on the ship.]

Um...hi, I guess. I'm Larry Butz, and one day I woke up in a tube with weird gunk that took forever to get out of my hair. Gum is worse, though.

[A pause. He wonders what else he should say.]

Thought I'd introduce myself since we'll be on this ship for a while. In space and all that.

...

By the way, I got a couple of questions. First, are there any art materials on board? I'm kinda bored. [As if that wasn't obvious from the fact that he has decided to lie back down, his eyes half-closing in a dazed expression.] And second, are the numbers on our arms supposed to mean something, or did we all get random ones while we were asleep?

[Because his reminds him of something. Something more than just an age, or a birthday, or any sort of date.]

May I have a word with any of you who have been taken to a place against your will prior to this one? A place not your own world. Perhaps an island, though I will speak to others if this description merely fits a majority of what I've described, as well.

[While Japan waits for replies to that, he'll be hanging around the gardens in surprisingly modern clothing considering the katana at his waist. A scarf, too! He's taking his time, walking, enjoying the plants (as much as he can in a garden like this) and occasionally sighing to himself or making quiet, mumbled comments about not being able to observe the seasons properly and his age.

Well until he stops for lunch that is. Still in the gardens, he'll be having his lunch here, and offering an onigiri to whoever might pass by, stranger or not.]

It seems I've prepared extra, if you'd like one.