[Crowley has been on the ship for hours.

The whole business was rather unpleasant, as is being branded like some kind of animal, but all in all, the demon is rather unruffled. Transport into another universe was something of another day's work, though it was an alarming coincidence that it occurred so closely to his greatest victory. Was this his punishment for his involvement with defeating the Leviathan?

Unlikely, the demon decides, and so he goes about his business.

First, it is a matter of discovering his locker, of removing his things, and of disappearing. He has little interest in socializing immediately and, as a result, Crowley vanishes into the shadows to dwell and think -- and, most importantly, learn. Within the hour, Crowley has all he needs to know at his fingertips, and with a flick of his fingers, his comm turns on to broadcast his soft accented English to the Tranquility.]

I'm afraid I require a bit of explanation as to why, exactly, someone thought it would be humorous to shove a Hellhound into a test tube.

[There's an artful pause.]

And also the location of the nearest groomer. This filth is absolutely disgusting.

[There's another three second pause before his own transmission ends.

Let's see who decides to come forward with information about why he, the demon King, is here.]

[ York's a lot more subdued than he normally is when he appears on the network. He's been thinking a lot about his conversation with Wheatley about the apparent jealousy of the ship's AI. He'd taken it for granted for too long that D had been left behind. ]

All right, so, here's the thing. I've been looking for someone every jump, someone who was real close to me. His name's Delta. So happens he's an AI. An AI who lives on a data chip that was physically implanted in my body. See, in my way of thinking, that makes it a little different from him just being missing, okay. Whoever brought all of us here, had to take his chip out of my neck and put it somewhere. And the more I think about it, the more I don't want it just lying around here somewhere.

Point is, I know there's a search party forming to find some of the people who have disappeared. I've got skills that can help you, if you're all willing to help me look for D. If you're in on that whole that whole thing let me know if that sounds like a good deal.

[The video feed shows a young man in his late teens or early twenties. He's not nervous, but out of habit he runs a hand through the messy black fringe of his hair before speaking.]

Hullo, I'm Harry. From what I've seen the usual thing to do here is to ask if there's a way home or if there are others from home here. If you're here, say hi, and if you're not here -- well, I guess you won't speak up then?

I'm not very good at staying still, so if there's something genuinely useful I could be doing, let me know? I'm not exactly 'space skilled', but I'm a quick study and I've seen a bit of Space: 1999.

[Yes, he wants to go home, but the need to return isn't as desperate as it would've been a few months ago. Harry is almost relieved to admit that the war is over and his part has been played.

Still, being pulled into space has left him feeling wrong-footed rather than angry.]

[ irene's wearing her tweed suit, buttons opened at the collar, waistcoat undone. there's a large golden lab sitting beside her, glorying in the way irene's scratching behind his ears. ]

It seems Baron Vladimir Harkonnen has left us. A true shame. He may have been the only man aboard this ship who properly appreciated the opera, and it's always lovely, finding someone with whom one shares a common interest.

[ there's a pause. the dog's mouth opens, tongue lolling out. irene smiles at that, before addressing the device again. ]

I've been here a year, with this passing jump. More than I thought I would, when I last onsidered the matter. I'd had several suggestions as to what to do to celebrate, if celebrate is the word I should use. None of them are quite to my taste, though I'm not sure such a dubious milestone should go unappreciated.

[ she gives a quiet little hum of thought, then raises her shoulder in an uncharacteristic shrug. ]

But I digress. Tell me, is the owner of this fine animal aboard anywhere? I found him in my doorway, but I doubt he's the ship's way of congratulating me on my stay. Majestic though he is, I'd say the menagerie this ship's acquiring really doesn't need any new additions roaming loose.

[The brunette on the feed might be familiar or it could be a complete stranger. It doesn't matter to her. She's been here long enough not to care if people do or don't know her. She is sitting on the edge of her desk, the network device propped up on the dresser so she doesn't have to hold it.]

A while ago, the dear Captain Hook offered to lock up the masks that belonged to people here. [Technically, Meg doesn't believe they belong to anyone. She thinks they belong to whoever thought it was cute to hand them out.]

No clue who took him up on that, but the thought that there could be enough of them to lock up was interesting to me. Turns out, there are quite a few of these things laying around and they seem to induce vivid hallucinations. [For those that are thinking otherwise, Meg's tone definitely implies that this is a bad thing.]

I have experience with objects that do more than they're supposed to. Back home, we call them cursed objects and we have ways of dealing with them. Those ways include burning, rituals, and most of the time just locking them up in a box designed to hold that item.

Now, I'm not saying these masks are cursed objects, but it certainly fits the bill and I'd like to have a shot at figuring that out. If anyone has interest in sharing their mask with me, since I didn't get lucky enough to get one of my own, I'd be really [She clasps her hands together and holds them close to her chest, as if she's oh-so-grateful.] tickled.

[Her hands drop and she looks at the camera, slightly dead-pan.] No, but seriously, if you want me to hold onto it I will, but I just want to take a snapshot, take some notes and ask some questions. Then you can have your mask back.

Any takers, I'll be in the common area on twelve. [She grins, it's almost enough of a grin that you might think you can trust her. Almost, really, it's up to you.]



(( eta: if your character wants to run into Meg (not you, Crowley) on 12, it will take place before Dean tells her that Crowley is on board. After that point, she's not out there all willy nilly and the part with her location is erased/edited from her broadcast. ))

[ the feed begins with the phone apparently propped up on the bed, and a tiny figure standing in the video as if it's a full-length mirror. roughly five inches tall, in jeans and a halter-top, with lavender-ish coloured hair, wide, startled-looking blue eyes, and.. well, yeah, there's no way around it. he (she?) also has fairy wings, which are settled neatly along his back.

he offers a slightly uncertain smile, reaching out to place hands on the glass curiously, touching fingers to it, then pulling them away again to wiggle them in a shy wave. ] Hullo! I-- I hope I'm doing this right. I suppose it's a.. a phone, but I've never used one before, so..

[ he shifts a little from bare foot to bare foot, hands curling in the hem of his shirt, wings lifting a little behind him. ]

My name is Lute, and I'm new. I don't think any of the pack is here, and I'm sure my owner isn't, as he would have found me by now, probably. So I suppose I'm here alone.

[ he glances down, toeing at the sheets, chewing on his lower lip. ] Um. I-- You see, I'm not a big person---obviously, I suppose---and I.. It's sort of hard for me to live in a place like this, which is built for big people. And I've never been on my own before, so I don't suppose anyone would.. be interested in a roommate?

[ he rocks up on his toes, expression hopeful. ] I don't take up much space! And I'm very quiet! I can sleep on a shelf if I have a bit of bedding. [ he trails off, then brightens again. ] .. Is there a library here? I saw someone with a book earlier, and I-- I'm allowed to read whatever I like here, aren't I?

[ a brief, searching glance, then a polite little nod. ] .. Um. That's all. Thank you! [ he reaches out, and the feed ends. ]