[ the feed switches on to reveal connor’s face in fuzzy close-up, staticked and blurred. after a moment, it focuses, and he leans back until his shoulders are visible, one arm held out to grasp the camera, which now is recording with a slight worm’s-eye view. his hair is longer, curling around his ears, nearly touching his shoulders, and his stubble's taken on about a month's worth of growth. (he's in his jumpsuit, the sleeves rolled up, so he looks more like a scraggly pilot rather than the mad scientist he actually is, which wouldn’t be such a terrifying thought if he didn’t live up to the stereotype at least 60% of the time.)

hope you guys like handheld shakycam, because this is being filmed more like a horror movie nature documentary than an actual network post.

the background is quite clearly the science department, banks of computers and jumbled heaps of overturned machines stretching on and on for yards behind him. there's an oddly-shaped outcropping of metal jutting out behind his head, but with the angle of the camera, it's difficult to see exactly what it might be—or if it’s anything at all. spoiler: it is. ]

( she blinded me with science! )

[ hello tranquility. incoming announcement from a very angry scottish ginger. otherwise known as, 008 » 067. that pond. of course she's trying to hold back how upset she is, but her expression is doing a rubbish job of hiding it. she wets her lips. ]

Okay, listen up. I'm not messing around here. Has anybody seen Rory? You know, skinny guy, bit of a nose. He is-- was a nurse. It's debatable. Whatever. That part's not important anyway. I can't find him. [ she's rambling because she's actually nervous, if it isn't obvious by her slightly shaky tone of voice. ] And not just Rory. What about— err, me? And yes, I actually mean me. The other Amy Pond. We were supposed to finally meet and sort all this madness out, and now— well, I can't get a hold of her either.

[ yeah, she knows how that sounds. 'maybe they ran off together.' don't worry, the thought already crossed her mind considering rory was the other amy pond's fiancee, too. as much as she didn't want to admit it. ]

People can't just disappear here, can they? We're on a bloody spaceship that doesn't really make very many stops! Unless they—

[ she looks like she might keep going (because she really could), but instead she just drops her forehead into her hand. that morbid thought is too horrible to entertain. so, instead, she takes a deep breath. ]

How many times is this going to happen?

[ this one is not an actual question. it's a frustrated sigh as she stops the message there. ]

When I signed up for Starfleet, I figured I'd be seeing a lot more stars.

[ there's a pause and then a quiet sound that veers just along the edge of embarassment before ]

You know, I used to say I'd see the entire Argo Navis. It's this giant constellation--or it was a constellation, before it got broken up into six different parts. Six parts of the ship Argo from Greek myth, I bet it was something to see, if you could swing it. You can't even see all of it unless you head out to a certain latitude point, so I guess when I was little I thought getting closer to the stars themselves would be a good way to skip that step.

[ another pause. there's the tap of fingers along a countertop. sulu's shrugging, but it's a voice transmission, so. ]

Just strange to think it's not out there, even if this ship did have windows. Hard to gauge how far we've gone without...well, windows and stars.

[Ianto is wearing a suit. After months on this ship, he finally has one at a cost he'd rather not have seen paid.]

Happy birthday to me. Assuming this calender's compatible with Earth's and functioning properly and all that. I'm sorry to say I don't have any cake, but I managed to scrounge up some music and something that passes as nachos. If anyone wants to bring anything up to the holodeck in passenger level one, we can share it around and call it a party.

[Happy birthday, indeed. Thanks, Sherlock.]

(ooc: and here's a log.)

[Jack's no stranger to death. In fact, of all the people on board, he's perhaps one of the ones most familiar with it, having experienced it more times than he can count. The fact that it comes so easily, on board this ship, it unnerves him. Back home, with Torchwood, he was used to losing his friends right and left, but that was because of their job. That was their choice, because of what they did. But here... Here where he knows there are kids and innocents and no one asked for this, no one asked to be here. It really pisses him off. First Hotspur, now Sherlock, and god knows how many others that he wasn't paying attention to in between them. He was killed on board once, and stuffed in a closet. He wonders how many of the others that have disappeared have died, and none of them ever found out. And the thought bothers him. A lot.

When he appears on the camera, his expression is hard, tight. That big matinee idol smile is gone, and his blue eyes are cold steel.]

How many does this make? How many of us have died on this ship? [A curious phrasing, some may note] How many people have we lost that we know of? How many have disappeared and we have no idea what happened to them?

[And then, after a pause:] Has anyone left and come back again remembering their previous time on the ship?

[There are a million questions running around in his head, and he wants answers]



[Private to Tyke - SEC » 001 » 011]

Sorry to just contact you out of the blue like this, I don't think we've spoken before. My name is Captain Jack Harkness. Jim said that you were the one to talk to about security? I think I'm looking for something of a change of scenery...

[this is surprise.]
Oh.

[this is distress.]
I - I... uh - fuck -

[this is panic.]
I need - fuckin' son of a bitch I need, um, someone here, right noww, the pool - [there's a little gasping breath, followed by a more sincere attempt at deep breathing. eridan doesn't even try to sound Okay at all.] Someone's in...

[and finally, the verbal shoulder-slump of defeat.]
Someone's drowwned in the pool.

[this is not what he wants to be doing right now at all, in the slightest, he was just supposed to look around real fast, just a quick look before he kept wandering, there wasn't supposed to be anything wrong.] I need John Wwatson. 001, uh, just the 001. An', uh. Shit. [there's the sound of frustrated typing for a minute, then,] 002-215. That one. I need both'a you to... Talk to me.

Someone else come help me. He's definitely...

[there's a long pause here, almost a minute, and then:] He's been here for a wwhile. There's nothin' else to do.


[002-215, Neal Caffrey and 001-197, John Watson are getting a notification every minute for this post until they respond.]

((OOC: way to brutalize the /small tag, whoops. anyway all responses voice, it is completely likely that anyone who knew Sherlock will get a pretty clear idea of who Eridan's referring to with such a dramatic call-out to Neal and Watson. uuuhh other than that yep that's it Sherlock's dead guys.))

[ The video clicks on, and it's obvious enough that Cat's not particularly happy about choosing to do so, but given the reason for one of her rare appearances on the network, she thought she might as well show her face. There's a bit of a pause before she finds it in herself to actually start talking as opposed to just looking a bit grumpy and reluctant, which is of course her standard approach to everything. Doesn't matter that Cat genuinely wants to get something out of this, she just hates having to ask for help. ]

All right, seeing as for once we're not being fucked around by red text or demons or brain-washing or fatal illnesses and shit, might as well make the most of it, yeah? [ She peers at the feed searchingly, pursing her lips. ] Bound to be a couple of you out there who can swim, I reckon. There's a pool here - I want to learn how. Not got much use for swimming back home, s'why I never learned, but I have a chance now, so it stands to reason I could give it a go.

Any of you lot think you can teach me?

[ She's very careful not to use the word "help", already feeling weird for how much she's talking when she usually kepts to the minimum amount of words required to make a sentence. With some amount of restraint she manages to stop herself from saying she wouldn't mind a couple of offers since some of you lot were bound to be terrible teachers.

Fair warning, Cat herself would be a pretty fucking terrible student. ]

[good morning Tranquility!]

Anyone planning on joining us for our little jaunt to Strela should arrive at the shuttles at least fifteen minutes early. [it won't mean death if you don't, but it will mean you'll miss the ride.] Pilots, earlier than that, but try to keep the bloodshed over who gets to drive to a minimum. [you can hear the grin in his voice.]

I know a lot of us, including myself, will be happy to get off the ship for a while, but remember that we're still in foreign space. We'll be guests on this station so we should try to be minding our manners.

[still, and this is the point of this broadcast:] Stay in contact with one another and try not to wander off on your own. [a beat.] And if you do bring your weapons, try not to flash them around. Most places don't take to that kindly, regardless of what part of space you're in.


Kirk out.

Uh. Hello. Since everyone's sort of introducing themselves and we're all stuck here, I thought I should probably... also do that.

I'm Rory Williams, I'm from Earth and I'm a nurse. Was a nurse. [ Technically never was one, also I'm a security guard on the lookout for threats these days more than anything. Ha. No. Way too much to get into. ] I mean, it's a little complicated. But I'm definitely still qualified and I'm always awake, so. If anybody needed a nurse for... some reason. I'll be around.

[ Annnnnd so tempted to ask, so tempted. Ever that should I/shouldn't I dilemma, only it's not a very big one, he's asking anyway. ] Sorry, really need to clarify something. The universe isn't ending right now, right? You can't exactly fly a ship through something that doesn't exist, so I've kind of been assuming it's all clear. Just for the record. Um. Thank you.

[Hello, ship. Have a Scotsman. A Scotsman who is no longer covered in goo, has had plenty of time getting more familiar than he'd like with the ship's towels, and is feeling marginally better for having had a shower and getting dressed.

Anyone with an ounce of common sense would be wary of using an unknown communications device to contact an unknown group of people who may or may not be responsible for the waking-up-in-goo fiasco, but Scotty's never exactly been known for his common sense.]

I don't suppose anyone'd be interested in tellin' me what's goin' on. [Do you see this angry pout? Do you?] An' if you're no' interested in tellin' me what's goin' on, would you mind directin' me t'the nearest source of a good stiff drink? [Because demanding alcohol from your captors is sure to work, Scotty.]

[ 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?

[ 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.

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.

[ for the record, the slow string of what has to be cursing, judging by the tone, is in klingon. sulu's trails off, and there's a chink of metal on metal, a low sound of disgust and then... ]

I...found a body.

[ his voice is so very carefully composed. because starfleet officers are supposed to professional as fuck, and sulu's saving the freak out for later. ]

Can anyone identify 006.072?