13 February 2014 @ 08:48 pm
[It starts with a close-up of his face. But he remembers such things from once before; namely, how he doesn't need to be so close to be heard. So he leans back, jaw clenching before he speaks.]

My name is Ichabod Crane. I have been - remiss in introducing myself, and for that I am truly sorry.

[More sorry that he's still here at month #2. He sits with a thin makeshift bandage wrapped around the knuckles of his hand and a broken mirror behind him. His patience with the ship wore thin for a moment. But then he's still concerned by thoughts of the Apocalypse and the fact that his wife still sits in Purgatory.

But for the moment, he's collected.

I have a query, queries, if you will, for my fellow passengers. Do you believe that we are brought aboard this ship in some indiscriminate fashion? Or are we chosen, our fates intertwined for some greater...perhaps sinister purpose? Was anyone on a mission of utmost urgency only to have it suddenly interrupted?

[And, while not the most important, there is one other thing that he'd like to know:]

And does anyone find themselves missing Starbuck's coffee? Given the size of this vessel, there should be no less than five on board.

[Ichabod shifts his gaze, almost abashed about it.

But damn, those baked goods.
22 January 2014 @ 03:34 pm
[Abbie is adjusting her device so that the feed shows up clearly and so she isn't being filmed in a stilted manner. That would be annoying!]

Alright. Seems a little late to be using this, but better now than never.

[She brushes some of her hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath before continuing.]

Hi. [She gives a small shrug and a wave.] I'm Lieutenant Abigail Mills and I'm from Sleepy Hollow, New York. Call me Abbie if you want. Right now though, I'm currently with the SEC that's been established aboard here. I may not have any crazy powers or special abilities, being human and all, but I'd like to think I'm more than dependable when it comes to security matters.

Formal introductions aside, I gotta ask about the things people are seeing in the mirrors and about the people who were dreaming in their pods. I'm hearing things about beasts and warped edges and frankly, I'm more than a little concerned.

[There's a pause before she hesitantly adds:]

I've been there before, believe me. And that was before I woke up and found myself in space. There has to be a purpose and meaning behind them.
21 January 2014 @ 05:03 pm
[ like so many of robb's network addresses, he appears with grey wind at his side. he's in the gardens, sweat sticking his curls to his skin as grey wind huffs beside him, for once not pacing impatiently as robb speaks. ]

It seems the ship has seen fit to save the strange temperatures for those who slumbered through them last month. I suppose there are few left who remember the ship growing cold once? Perhaps it feels the heat suits us better.

[ robb's tone suggests that is most certainly doesn't suit him, but is that really a surprise? starks have ever been more suited to the cold. ]

If you would all permit me, I would ask to speak with any who slumbered, this month or prior, for last month was not the first that has seen people remaining trapped within their pods. I dreamed, and I would know if they were shared, or if any recognize that which I saw. Time has passed, and yet I've still not made sense of all that happened within those dreams.

[ grey wind makes a soft noise, almost a whine. robb doesn't reach a hand to soothe him, as if it's important neither of them seem unsettled. ]

Lastly, I would speak with Erik Lensherr, who I hear has returned once more, and Cesare Borgia, if he will indulge me with an audience. And my family, those of my House and those who carry my banner, I've news to share with you.

[ robb takes a breath, and grey wind gets to his feet, shakes out his coat, and paces off camera. robb chuckles, and cuts the feed on a murmur too quiet to be heard. ]
14 January 2014 @ 07:22 pm
[ hey, tq, it's dean. he's looking... well, a little more restless than normal, and mostly because now that it's been some time after the jump, he's finally accepted that yet another friend has left the ride. he rubs the knuckles of one hand anxiously before looking at the communicator. ]

Any of you ever had a friend or two in this ship who you know ain't around back home anymore? Sucks when they go back, doesn't it. Especially when home isn't just a box six feet underground, but... [ but purgatory, where you personally put them.

it hurts. it sucks. ]

But something a lot more dangerous. Guess we should learn by now to hold on to 'em as hard as we can while we still have 'em, instead of...this. [ as sincere as he is, he can't quite help the strained smirk, like it really is all some big joke. ]

But since I can't do that, I'll ask for the second best thing; anyone feel like doin' a little sparring? And I mean the off the record kind, no punches pulled stuff. You know, fun. [ it's something he's good at, something he could just lose himself in for a little while, so it's worth a shot. ]

Those easily bruised and ready for tears-- or too busy whining about the temperature need not apply. And if you ain't sure, we can even throw a bet of some kind on the winner-- whatever works. Even you freaky supernatural critters are welcome.
07 January 2014 @ 10:34 pm

You're probably confused. Take some time to read this over. We do our best to keep it up to date, and it should answer most of your questions.

THE RUNDOWN » What happened, where you are, what to do
REFERENCE* » Basic facts about the ship and solar system
A TIMELINE OF EVENTS » This will take time to read thoroughly, but we
strongly recommend it.
FAQ » Please read this before asking a question on the network
HEADCOUNT » Our current numbers
SPACE TRAINING » If this is your first time aboard a space ship, please watch these helpful videos
COMMUNITY NOTICEBOARD » For all your wants and needs

[*OOC Note: This document is editable by anyone in the game. Please feel free to expand upon sections, add sections, add your own theories, etc. Part of the fun is solving the mystery, and this gives us a convenient way to do it. ICly, your character would have given Ianto this information, or he might have found it on an open post on the network.]
03 January 2014 @ 04:35 pm
So— let me get this straight.

[ Veronica looks sweaty because, you know, apparently the Tranquility believes it's in the tropics in space. She makes a face, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. ]

My laptop, somehow, needs to get recharged. My camera seems to be busted, because it's either that, or everyone has seven days to live, and I'm trying this thing called optimism. I'm all out of crosswords, this is not the vacation that I signed up for, and apparently there is a big giant monster only some people can see that wants to kill us. [ That, and people here either seem to spend their time drunk as hell or being big mystical beings who do mystic things. (Veronica is not worried. Veronica is not worried because Veronica has accepted that this is, like, at least 81% real, and by that juncture the rest of it is just— you roll with the punches. You adapt. You try really, really hard to distract yourself by doing literally any job that falls into your lap.)

That's her. Veronica Mars, modern college girl on the go: the sequel.

In space.

I'm already helping Edgeworth, but if anyone wants me to do an odd job, point me in that direction. You'd be doing me a favor — it's better than just sitting around, trying to deal with the fact I really should have listened more to my AP Physics teacher when he talked about string theory. And, uh—

[ She pauses, her nose wrinkling. ]

I've never— This— whole inter-dimensional science fiction thing? Is new to me. So if there's some kind of, cultural, verbal address that would be more polite when it comes to people who aren't— humanesque, I'd appreciate it if someone could fill me in.

[ God, how is this real. Still hallucinating? Maybe. It's definitely hot enough to be. ]
19 December 2013 @ 06:47 pm
[On comes the video feed, to show one (1) Booker DeWitt. His collar is a little undone and his sleeves are rolled up higher than usual due to the heat, but that's not the reason why he's addressing everyone today. The issue of the temperature and people seeing "shadows" doesn't escape him, but he figures he'll be keeping an eye on network posts for any development in those departments.

Right now, he has something else on his mind, and as always he gets straight to the point.]

Got a question for the people on this ship with -- [what's the proper phrasing to use? Even though he's the one asking it still sounds awkward leaving his lips] --unusual abilities. Does this place seem to affect them in odd ways, such as some of them not even workin' at all?

[Oh, and those watching might also notice Booker's left hand and part of his forearm, which is smattered with patches of sprouting black feathers and nails that have grown into long black talons. Yeah.

Even as he speaks, he's shaking out the aforementioned limb with an annoyed grimace, and it begins to revert back to its everyday appearance of a normal human arm.]

Or is it just me?

[Damn vigors. More trouble than they're worth.]
18 December 2013 @ 11:30 pm
[Marty is busying himself by making a fan out of shitty old cardboard bits, completely exasperated. This whole its-getting-hotter-with-no-signs-of-stopping thing is sort of Not Good, but he's trying to make the best of it. Despite the growing temperature aboard the Tranquility, he's still fully dressed. He's also somehow in a ridiculously good mood despite the humid air, which is probably partly because Dana is here and alive and he's so fucking glad.] 

Now I know how my brownies felt like. Minus the feeling of being digested, but we can't all do that many new things at once.

[What, come on, haven't you ever considered your baked goods and their emotional statuses?]

And, like, dudes like me? No way we can strut around in trunks like most of you — which, by the way? The sexy people versus normal people ratio here is pretty fucking high, like, 100 to 1. And I'm the 1. I swear to christ, sometimes I wonder if half of you came from a planet where everyone is ridiculously charmingly good-looking. 

It's not like I've got hairy nipples or an outtie -- y'know, a grotesque one, not one the cute ones, but I'm waaaay too skinny and pale for a swimsuit competition. People could probably just mistake me for printer paper up until they can't fit me in the tray.

I know, I know. "But Marty! Your personality outshines your sex appeal!" You're too kind.

[grin grin grin

we might all burn alive ok

but it's all good, fuck it]

If anyone turns into a microwave burrito, we should probably all just play Tetris in the freezers. Who's with me? We can experiment with ice cube trays, see what kind of abnormal ingredients make the best or worst ice-pops. Pickle juice is surprisingly delicious after your second or sixth joint.

14 December 2013 @ 09:17 am
Good day. My name is Miles Edgeworth; I am with the Security team. As ever, I would like to request that any new arrivals with expertise in law enforcement, the military, or combat contact me to discuss potential employment.

[He would also like to request that all you dicks stop talking about The Worst Holiday Ever, thanks. And he would like to distract you from it with this:]

I should like, also, to discuss our backgrounds. I have done this in the past, I will grant, and as such I beg a bit of patience from those who have previously seen such questions. Nevertheless, I believe that discovering the commonalities amongst us will assist in the uncovering of the reason why we were brought here; more, a general census will, I think, assist in preventing people from falling through the cracks, as it were.


I have attached a text document. Kindly open this document, fill it out, and submit it to me. Note that number five is quite optional, but an answer would be appreciated and potentially quite helpful.

survey.doc )
11 December 2013 @ 06:11 pm
I didn't have much of a chance to use this the last time I was here.

[Aurora doesn't sound particularly sad about that. In fact, the sooner she leaves the Tranquility the second time around, the happier she'll be. Nothing personal.]

My name is Aurora. I know it must be magic that took me from my own world, and I know that there's no deal that can send me back to it. Even if there's no price I wouldn't be willing to pay.

[Her voice is softer at the last, before she lifts it and her chin once more.]

But is there really nothing that can be done for those who still sleep? No one who can wake them? I know what it is to be under such a curse. It's a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone.