[Summer is, as always, beside Bran, when the video begins. The great direwolf--nearly as tall as Bran, even when both are seated--favors the video feed with a calm and even stare, as if he knows that he is being recorded.

Bran, meanwhile, chooses to smile.]

I am Bran Stark, and this is my direwolf, Summer. His sister and his brother both tread these halls as well. They are not tame, and they are not pets--but they will not harm those of the ship, not without good cause. We have many that are new to the Tranquility, who do not know our wolves so well. Should you have complaint against them, call upon those of House Stark, and we will answer for them.

[Official business done, Bran takes up his device, so he can turn the video to his robotic legs. They look a little like metal braces with heavy straps, encasing his crippled legs.]

But this is what I truly wanted to ask about. These are robotic legs. They were made for me by a friend, who was clever and good and true. He knew much of robotics, but he is no longer here.

I would ask those of this ship if there are any aboard that have knowledge of robotics, that could craft legs like these. And, if there is someone with this knowledge--I would ask to speak with them, to commission work much like this. Though it would be a gift, I would find some trade to make for the work that would be done.

[When Bran turns the video back to himself, Summer has climbed onto the bed behind him. The direwolf takes up nearly the entire bed, but is settling down, curled behind Bran like the curve of a chair. Bran smiles again, this time more quietly, pleased, and he rests his free hand atop Summer's head, like an armrest.]

I have been having strange dreams of late. Not the strangest I have ever had--but strange. I wonder if we dream when we are in the pods, when the Jump happens. I know that there are those that have had dreams... but surely everyone must dream, and only a few remember. I wonder what those dreams are.

( [locked to arya & robb... & gendry)] )

[ peter looks vaguely more interested in being on screen this time than compared to the last time he was. maybe it’s because he’s had a little more practice, who knows. but he’s standing in front of a mish mosh of scrap metal, a rather perfect descriptor for what they're about to say. ]

So. For all you guys out there looking to join a department, I want to offer engineering as an option. If there’s something we need it’s extra hands around the place, and there’s more than a few things we could think of to do to keep you occupied if you can't think of them yourselves. Plus, the place is a lifesize erector set.

Arya and I are the heads of the department--

[ arya is worn in a way that goes beyond physical exhaustion and would rather be anywhere else than showing her face on the network, but no one could tell from the smile she donned for this occasion. ]

— and ours is an important duty. [ focus, peter. ] We are charged with the well-being of the ship. If it is neglected, we would all die.

[ welcome to psa: westeros style. ]

We need everyone. Even if you are not knowledgeable about technology [ cough her a year ago ] there are tasks that don’t need such. And we can teach those who wish to learn.

[ peter’s focused, he swears! he’s just trying to appeal to the masses. ] We want you to keep in mind that the place is bigger than you might expect and we can’t keep track of anyone who might decide to go wandering off, so maybe join with a buddy of yours so you can keep track of each other.

The main goal is that we need more people, like Arya said. There’s just too much for the few people we’ve got to take care of all on our own. Feel free to talk to either of us if you’ve got any questions or concerns or, I don’t know- if you just want to know more.

[ peter glances back over to arya for a second before looking back. ]

It’s a department we all need to think of, and not just as one where we get to build things in our spare time—

[ and here arya chimes in with a, ] But we do that too! [ actual best part tbh we’re all kids or kids at heart here. ]

We take care of the ship, and without your help, the place’ll fall apart.


[ ooc; peter is black, arya is green ]

If anyone missed it. Wheatley is gone.

Does anyone know what happens when we vanish from here?

[She's still not sure how to feel about this. She got to punch him once at least. And the stuff he left behind....well that reminds her.

Well the chirping turret behind her reminds her.]

Unrelated: Does anyone know the story of Prometheus? Something about gods and being pecked by birds.

[There a click on, and the clear sound that someone is there, but there's a pause, like maybe someone is making sure.]

Is this broadcast going through?

I think I got it-

Hello, Tranquility, my name is Steve Rogers.

I'd like to be directed to whoever is in charge of Security, if that's not too much trouble. And I'd like to know if it's possible to see out into space. Are there any windows on board?

[Annnnd a pause, and a fumble.]

Is it off?

[And then another pause.]

Sorry, excuse me-

[And NOW it's off.]

Prior to the jump, an emissary of our local human population melted the door to my quarters shut.

[ Erik glances aside and then back again. Terse. ]

Accidentally, [ he qualifies. He does not make much of an effort to look (or sound) convincing on that account. ]

If anyone has a means to forcing it open again, I have my favor to offer in return. Contact me via this message or in private.

[ There must be an implied thank you somewhere in his reach cross-body to terminate the transmission. Surely. Those with prying eyes may notice an off-color tinge under his arm, and there’s a glimpse of faded blood stained brown at the sleeve. Even after frequent washing, it looks as though he’s been wearing the same shirt for several days. ]

[With the last few anonymous messages sent in the past little while, it's given her an idea for a question she wants to ask. One she'd rather not have people like say,...totally random here... Wheatley find out she was asking.]


If you lose your memories, is it possible for them to ever come back?

[ ned, again, is full of bright smiles. he's been tinkering with the pie hole and all of its components for quite some time now, and he is pictured unfolding a giant pie display that he found in his locker. and while he's still weak from this jump, he's excited to get a move on. baking will bring him right back up to normalcy, he's convinced. ]

For those of you who are new, or who missed my last announcement -- this. This is the Pie Hole. And it is open right now and forever after. We could all use a little slice of home, in a galaxy far far away.

[ he's always wanted to say that, but the camera slips around the room. the furnishings are meager, but passable, and everything inside is painted a pleasant green, the lights that hang from the ceiling orange. ]

I've never run a business without-- [ fat stacks of cash? ] money, before, but. I think I've worked out a system so that no one feels. Er. So that no one feels as if they're getting something for nothing or nothing for something. It will be fair.

In any case! The Pie Hole is indeed up and running, so please stop in for a slice. Which is free. The first one, anyway.

[ he spins the pie display with a look of accomplishment and puts his hands on his hips.

a dog bark and a pig snort sound from somewhere behind him and digby dog and pigby pig are looking expectantly to the feed as it pans. ]

Oh, yes. Thank you. We are located adjacent to the Oxygen Gardens, under the pie crust overhang. [ it felt so good to say that again. ]

I'll see you soon, fellow Tranquilityzens. [ oop one more thing. ] And I'm Ned.

The pie maker.

Good morning, Tranquility.

[ Erik is seated at his desk, eyes fixed flat upon the camera. ]

I’m conducting a poll.

[ The suit he’s wearing is dove grey and freshly pressed. The dress shirt beneath it is discolored about the collar, faded brown blotched behind the (flagrant) purple of his tie. He could stand to shave. He could stand to sleep for more than a few hours before addressing the entire network. ]

On a scale from one to ten, with one being the perpetuation of a meaningless existence at the mandate of an invisible hand for some unknown and likely terrible purpose, and ten being, [ he pauses to take a breath and to check down after his notes, ] ten being no harm done with a side of unlikely survival courtesy of a confusing -- but benevolent -- presence, [ he reads directly: ]

How would you rate the outcome of last month’s attempted mutiny?

[ A show of his teeth when he looks up can’t quite pass for a smile, fleeting and thin as it is. ]

Just curious.

[It's the familiar backdrop of Medbay, hurrah! Simon looks--you guessed it--tired, and he sounds--you guessed it again--exasperated. Cleanup after something like what just happened in Engineering is never very good for the sleep schedule.]

Before anyone asks--Charlotte is in the care of Medbay. She's stable, but isn't in any shape to receive visitors or answer questions. Please don't come to any medical staff requesting to see her.

We'll get what information we can when she's ready to give it. That might not be for some time. Right now, passenger health is the priority.

[And she is, in fact, a passenger.]

If you were...forcibly ejected from Engineering and require any further medical attention, please don't hesitate to see a doctor or nurse. We'll do what we can to alleviate any lingering symptoms.

[Should you go to Medbay with the express purpose of seeing what's up with this Charlotte lady, you'll find she is, as Simon warned, in no shape to receive visitors, drifting in and out of consciousness and in an obviously unhinged state. As she's clearly a danger to herself and others, there's an SEC guard near or around her bedside 24/7.]

[This public service announcement comes to you from the security offices, and is delivered in a bored monotone. It's more a recitation than anything, really--Sirius is clearly reading off of a piece of paper. This fact is very clear, because he's holding up the paper, and you can mostly see it.]

Good day. My name is Mi-- Sirius Black. I'm a member of the security team. Unfortunately. All new arrivals, please do not hesitate to contact Miles Edgeworth, and not me, if you have either questions regarding security or if you are feeling distinctly masochistic and want to volunteer. He's always looking for new recruits and it would be really lovely if he had someone else to read things off of paper for him. And if you don't like reading things off of paper, and you're a military, law enforcement, or combat type, you can contact him as well. Just contact him. Give the man something to do.

Similarly, if you run into any trouble or find yourself in distress of any sort, which you most likely will, at some point, 'cos that's the way of things around here, kindly inform him, and not me, and he will swoop in to your rescue. Or organise someone to swoop in to your rescue, he's a terrific organiser. But he might just do it himself--I know it doesn't seem as if he will, but trust me, he will.

[Paper finished, he glances up. He's tired; it shows in his face, but he grins anyways.]

And now, because this wouldn't be the Miles Edgeworth Radio Hour without a survey--please answer this survey here and send a copy along to him as well so he doesn't miss out on the fun of reading your answers twice over. That's Miles Egdeworth, SEC » 007 » 114. He would just love to hear from you all.

[And he knocks off a salute, even though it's very lazy and he's slumped in his chair.]

Cheers.

( survey.urmom.doc )

[ peeta's got the device propped up on something when he switches it on, and it stays steady when he steps away to take a seat on the edge of his bed. he's wearing the standard issue tranquility jumpsuit, sleeves rolled up against the heat in his room, and he leans forward onto his elbows as he begins to speak. his tone matches his posture; despite the arguably tense topic, he seems relaxed. ]

I know people are worried about what happened on the bridge. I agree that we should find out what went on inside, but others already have that covered — and I'm more interested in why none of the mutineers are dead. [ slightly harsh wording. nobody had expected them to get out of there, so there's no point in talking around it. ] I've only been here for a month, and people have a lot of warnings about the ship being dangerous, about how it's out to get us. Which makes me wonder why all of us aren't dead, either. Some of you have been here for months already, right?

[ it's a rhetorical question. he's heard months, over a year. he still pauses before continuing, if only because he's making a slight switch in gears. ] Where I come from, the people in charge have a system. They created it to make people frightened and to keep them from having hope. They could probably just kill everyone if they wanted to, but they still need us — they need us to work, keep their Capitol running.

I think the ship's the same. I don't think it wants to kill us. I think it needs us for something, and that the events I've heard about — the stations it brings you to, the trials it engineers, they're trying to push us to do something. But this is where the comparisons to the Capitol stop. If all it wanted was inaction, it would've killed everyone on the bridge, but it didn't. I think it wants something else, and it needs us to do it.

[ another pause, and this time he offers a slight smile when he continues. maybe a bit out of place, but it becomes clear enough that he's taking amusement at his own expense. ] But I'm new here, so I couldn't tell you what. Normally I'd say it wants us to fight, but I've been told that doesn't accomplish much. I guess that's why I'm asking you — if there's anything that seemed like a hint, or a command, or a reward.

Everyone's caught up on solving the mysteries behind these things. I know this is probably just because I'm bad at riddles, but I'm more interested in the results. How they make us behave and what we're being taught to expect. I have no idea if we want to listen, but I think it'd be a good idea to try to figure out what it's asking us to do.

09:07
Bridge is ours. No resistance encountered.

09:12
Doors locked. Not opening from the inside. Attempting manual release. Request assistance.

[Cecil is in his room, shuddering, arms wrapped tightly around his body. Is it fear? Is it the cold?

His closet door is open, and there's a bedsheet draped over it -- covering the mirror.

Cecil's fingers press into his sides, pulling at the fabric of his shirt, nearly tearing it. He stares straight ahead, his bright eyes wide; unseeing.]

My mother always said that it would be a mirror.

[ ned addresses the feed nervously as always, but with a purpose today. the rest of you may be worried about a monster in your midst, but this posting has a much more mundane goal in mind. ]

As some of you might already know... I was--am? The pie, the proprietor of a pie eatery and bakeshop, my Pie Hole. I mean, the. The Pie Hole. In space. Not that it was ever in space before, but it will be. Now. In the present and space-oocupied moment. Presently. [ what. he clears his throat. ]

Chuck, for those of you who--who already know her. [ and now starting to get pink... ] My girlfriend. And, and myself will be taking pie orders whether it's a simple apple pie or a delicacy only found on your home world. I will do my best to replicate it here with our limited resources. And eventually, I do plan to have an established establishment with a full pie menu, as well as some possible... extras, as much as I regale myself as a self-proclaimed pie purist. Which I think, self-proclamation is the only way to actually be proclaimed in pie purity... Uhm. So. Requests.

[ he holds up a little board that says "22-09" with a bright smile. ] This is my number should you care to stop by or, call. What better time for pie than when we all are, surely, in great need of comfort. And what more comforting food could there be.

Oh! Before I forget. For those of you who might come from terrible places without pie? There will be a pie-tasting assuming we don't all die of heat-exhaustion or giant invisible monsters.

[ another bright smile before he disconnects! ]

[ for once, arya is well-groomed if drained by heat and stress. she donned her best new tunic and her hair has actually seen a brush. it has been pulled back into a delicate and seemingly simple braided updo by skilled elven fingers. her now long hair drives her mad otherwise in the suffocating heat that is engineering. grey eyes look steadily into the camera. just off-screen she clutches nymeria's scruff like a lifeline. it's the only outward sign of her nervousness. this speech was written out, repeated enough for her to memorize it, and she is still afraid she will somehow screw it up.

like robb, she thinks. she will be as eloquent as robb. taking a breath, she begins. ]

My name is Arya Stark. I am speaking for Tony Stark, head of engineering, who is in stasis.

We all know the temperatures are high. There is nothing to be found in the Engineering or Agriculture department as the cause. Two days ago the temperatures stopped going up. We have not stopped working on finding the cause, and we will keep trying to bring it down.

Until then, you ought take-take precautions against the heat: drink a lot of water, try to avoid exerting yourself. The pools are always open. You can swim. If you don't know how to swim, you can learn. And don't get lost.

As I am the only one officially left of Engineering, I take responsibility for everything here. If there is anything you wish to say, you can say it to me. My—team is doing the best they can and they are not to be blamed. Neither is anyone else in any of the other departments. If you have any questions, I will do my best to answer them. We will tell you of any changes.

Thank you.

[ and she smoothly switches off the video. don't mind her as she collapses in a pile in a lukewarm corner somewhere and doesn't get back up for a while. ]

This place is cursed.

[An irate looking Thor is looking into the device feed, holding his weapon tightly in one hand.]

There are... things--devils--stalking this ship. I haven't caught them yet, but I will.

[There's a flicker of doubt in his expression. He wouldn't ask so openly, but Tony didn't wake up, and now he's alone.]

Has no one else seen them...? [Maybe it really is just him. He can't tell. Thor grows surly again.]

At the very least, there shall be a few less monsters in the halls.

[ Erik does not introduce himself, but appears hard-faced and grim on the readout. He does not smile; his eyes (an affable blue) are set dead on the camera at an apathetic remove. The lines around them are matter-of-fact. They look like they’ve been there for years. ]

For those of you with a ‘gift,’ who rely upon -- or even value -- the courtesy and discretion of their peers in keeping such matters beneath the radar,

[ there is a distinct clink and slosh when he reaches out of frame to tip an invisible bottle over an invisible glass ]

I advise you to think twice before placing your faith in my erstwhile colleague.

He is passionate, but not always in possession of the best judgment.

[ A wind upward at the corner of his mouth fails to reach his eyes. ]

This message has been brought to you by ‘Magneto,’ and half a bottle of chardonnay.

[ The video cuts out before his voice does. ]

Enjoy your stay.