[ 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. ]

H-Hello, it's Kurt. Is everyone--well, all right? As all right as possible, I mean. I'm just checking in, in case that--that fog comes back again, or something.

I realize it's probably a technical issue, but you can't blame me for thinking it might be something a little more...well, bizarre. This ship is sort of famous for that kind of thing.

[ Locked to Team Jailbait; 60% unhackable ------ ]

So I think it's about time we do what Hayley suggested. I mean-- Maybe not now, but we should at least get together and make sure we're all in one piece. I don't want anyone wandering off on their own.

I'm worried about all of you.

[ooc; Filter includes everybody who's sort of in the circle now, including newbies! Also Quinn, you can assume Kurt contacted you first.]

[ For once, Alayne Stone — Sansa Stark to some already — does not greet the Tranquility with her usual politesse and poise. Where usually she would arrange herself carefully, hands folded and not a hair out of place, she sits in the frame of the picture lopsidedly and sideways, the whole of it shaking as the dull sound of a fist flat upon metal rings in the background. ]

Lady! Lady—! [ Alayne calls and the answer is a muffled howl, coupled with another bang and the indistinct sound of another voice. ] —Petyr, I—

—I will call for aid, just please— [ Another howl, more dire this time. ] —look to keep her calm.

[ Only now does the image right itself, Alayne's expression pinched with worry though she does her best to smooth her hair back (and with it, some of her fluster). Still, Alayne's speech is quick and worried. ] My dear Tranquility, I beg the question: is there no way to unlock the doors? No matter of mechantry or— or magic that may give us passage back to our rooms?

I was not mindful of the warnings made by others and— only thought to bring warm clothing to those unaccustomed to such bitter climes. But in doing so, I have made my room a cage for my guardian and my animals. [ Again, a howl pierces the air and Alayne flinches visibly. ] Lady howls to be so bereft of me. I am fearful she will harm him or the birds in frustration if salvation does not come quick. So please, I beg you: send aid, if there is any aid to send.

[ Off-screen that muted voice calls out, though it is unclear if it is meant as a response to Alayne's words. She turns when she hears it, reaching for the door, before the video cuts out again. ]

—

[ ooc note; Alayne is locked outside her room at 003 » 005. Other people on the same floor are welcome to note/comment/investigate the sound of a very upset direwolf howling in one of the rooms. It probably sounds pretty disturbing since Lady almost never howls and she sounds equal parts sad and angry.

Action threads welcome, though Isaac Lahey has first dibs to take Alayne away to join her family. ]

If anyone missed it, the ship is now in emergency lockdown.

[Kirk is addressing the video next to him, the device seems to be propped up so that there is a clear view of Tyke next to him as he taps away at a console in one of the corridors. it's one of those big holographic ones, and it's reflecting red light back into his face. he doesn’t look up.]

We're running on backup power, and before anyone asks, we haven't figured out the problem. Primary power is being directed into Engineering and the Oxygen Gardens. Engineering, I need one of you to contact me-- I don't have clearance so I can't get down there on my own.

[it's here that he looks up]

The lockdown has also, for some reason, extended to everyone's cabins--

[but the console beeps and Kirk's attention goes back to whatever he was working on. Tyke has been concentrating on her comms device, but she looks over as Kirk cuts off, frowning slightly. clearly not interested in wasting time waiting for him to finish and get back to addressing the camera.]

Gonna want everyone getting down to the gardens. Power's still good down there and sticking together's safer. If you haven't been locked out of your room yet, grab everything you can before you leave - blankets, sheets, pillows. Agriculture, if you're not there already, we're gonna need you for access. And SEC, I want you down there running tight guard on the area, loose patrols to pick up stragglers. [an agitated, stilted shift of her shoulders.] I'm not taking any chances on this being more fucked up than a power cut.

It's going to get cold up here, people. Resnik is estimating 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Bundle up, we might be camping for a while.

[and he reaches up to click off the transmission.]


[ooc: gold is for Kirk, blue is for Tyke.

UPDATE: go to this log for open garden camping stuff!]

I cannot fix the ship nor do I even understand where the problem may lie, but we were told to keep warm, and keeping warm is something that those of us in the North understand well. I would not have anyone freeze to death, but I know some come from hot lands where cold is nothing to fear.

If this cold is truly cold, and not simply a mild passing of a summer night, then you would do well to heed what I have to say. Wear as many of your garments as you can, with your most protective garments away from your skin and the warmest close. It may not snow here but frost from the air can build even on a man's face without snow.

Do not get wet. Drink clean water but carefully. Eat well but not so heartily you drowse easily.

Build tents - there is bedding and other material, and a tent with a family may keep warmer than a family without. I will help if someone needs it. A small shelter will help hold heat.

Stay close to others. If someone ceases shivering despite the cold, they must be warmed, by touch or by movement, for that is as close to death as you may see a person. Sleep next to your family or your friends, with as many furs or blankets as you can manage. Think of wolves that survive the coldest storms huddled for warmth.

Start no fires. I've seen nowhere for any smoke to go, and even the cleanest fires may kill with bad air.

I have heard that being in a room can lead to being trapped. Perhaps we should all take account of where we are and who is with us.

Locked to the Stark family;

I would have us together, if we could. The wolves can hold much of the cold at bay. Would you agree, Robb?

Locked to Sansa Stark;

I would have you with us, especially, sister, but I know you may not be able to, if you wish to continue your masquerade. But I would hope you will seem me, at the least, and I will give you a gift to keep you warm. Keep Lady beside you.

[the feed opens up to Eric seated in front of the camera and Kirk leaning over his shoulder, presumably setting up the video. his hand comes down as he addresses the ship.]

Tranquility, if I could have your attention. In the interests of openness, I’ve been asked to address you on another topic people might consider off colour. As you know, on board we have more than just humans and extraterrestrials. We also have what some of us would call supernatural entities. This extends from angels to werewolves, and while I’m not at liberty to discuss the others, right now I’d like to take a moment of your time to discuss vampires.

Eric?

[and he glances to the man in question as he straightens, leaving the floor open to him.]

[Eric sits forward in the chair, a calm, if somewhat cocky smile crooked on his face. one can tell that he’s very much at ease being in front of the camera, in front of the spotlight]

Good evening, ladies. Gentlemen. Shifters, angels, werewolves, etcetera. My name is Eric Northman, and I. [he crooks his smile a little bit wider, one brow a little higher for a moment] I am a vampire. Now, some of you may be aware as to what that means, but some of you do not, so allow me to break it down for you. Vampires were humans, at one point. Although the process is different depending on where those on board came from, the idea is the same: we drink blood, it is how we survive. Without it, we starve, much as a human would without food or a succubus would without... [smirk] Well, you catch my drift.

Now. We have been surviving off of synthetic blood for this long thanks to the generosity of the medbay and their science equipment. And we can continue on surviving like this indefinitely. But humans of the Tranquility, ask yourselves this. Would you yourselves enjoy to live off of the barest of rations while the rest of those around you do not have to hold themselves to the same limitations? Would you continue to choose to live that way? [he adjusts his position in his seat, leaning towards the camera, intensifying his gaze] I would not think so. So why ask us to continue to do the same?

What we are proposing instead, myself and Kirk and Godric [he shoots a quick glance off-camera, to where Godric stands watching, both apologizing if the other did not want his name attached to the idea and standing his ground at the same time. behind him, Kirk too glances in that direction.] is instead a donor system, if you will. Like a blood bank, overstepping the bag donations. Donors will not be harmed - donations will be equal to if not less than those that one would give in any local blood drive. The condition of vampirism is not passed by bite, and the contact of the bite itself can be quite...pleasurable.

We recognize that there will be questions, and between us, will be happy to respond to any and all posed to us. There are many preconceptions of vampires, and those too we will be happy to honestly confirm or deny, to the best of our ability.

[Jim again leans over Eric’s shoulder here.]

Since this isn’t a subject of starvation, this isn’t something that requires an immediate decision. This is as much about creating awareness of the situation as anything else. We want to make people as comfortable as possible up here, which isn’t easy with all the walks of life we’ve collected. If for some reason you have an issue, contact me. My communicator is always on.

[he already knows it’ll be going off the hook, but with a nod Jim steps out of the frame to let Eric finish it off]

Godric and I can only speak for a select version of the condition of vampirism as it appears on board. There are those that do not possess the same level of self-control as we do. These negotiations will by no means justify any attacks. [In case any of you were getting any ideas, he’s not gonna take the fall for you] We seek merely a more comfortable arrangement for all. [pleasant smile]


[ooc; gold is for Jim, blue is for Eric]

[Tommy's been scarce since the fog and rust overtook the Tranquility like a month ago. Sure, he's made appearances on the Network, here and there, but they've been few and far between. Other than that, he's mostly kept to himself, drinking at the bar or holing up in his room. The whole fucked up experience took a lot out of him, made him confront a few things that he'd been in denial about, namely: 1) he's dead and 2) he has a major drinking problem. Unfortunately, revelation number one fed into revelation number two, so...

As usual, Tommy's had a few too many to drink. It's rare that he gets on the Network sober, and today's no exception. He's sitting in his room, guitar propped on his lap, smiling, although it's more sarcastic than anything else. His words are a little slurred-- looking at him, you can practically smell the alcohol on his breath.]

Hey. So, I've been wondering. [He drums his hands lightly on the guitar.] How many of you are dead men walking? Or women, I guess.

I'm just curious. Wanna know how many of us are out there, people who can't go home, because they-- [He stops short, then laughs, shaking his head.] Because they're six feet fucking under.

Let's get a show of hands here. [He raises his. It's worth noting that he's not wearing his wedding ring. Tommy's not exactly on the market-- EVEN THOUGH HE'S SUCH A CATCH-- but he's coming to terms with the fact that he's never gonna see Jeanie again. Well, "coming to terms" with the help of space beer. Tommy drops his hand and plucks at his guitar idly, still smiling that thin, sarcastic smile.]

You know, I'm still not convinced this place isn't hell. [He looks at the camera for a beat, thinking, as if he wants to say something else... then leans forward to cut the transmission.]

[OOC: SORRY FOR POSTING AND RUNNING FOR... THE ENTIRE DAY. My net crapped out very shortly after I posted this, then DW wouldn't let me log in ablhailfhwioho. Tags will commence in the morning once I've had some sleep.]

[ This entry starts with the sound of shrubbery and a black screen. It goes on for a few more seconds, almost a full minute of it with heartfelt cursing interspersed every odd second or so. Next comes the pneumatic sound of the lift doors opening and closing, and a staticky shake of the feed, catching on the tail end of a low goddamnit.

Lo, an Isaac Lahey appears, looking a bit torn up with his dirty shirt but suspiciously not injured. Like at all. At least he didn't catch any of the scheduled "rains", so he's not muddy along with just dirty. ]

Great. Pocket dialing.

So I just went camping. Also I think I have a literal thorn in my ass, but I fell backwards on a bush, so who knows. I'm back, though?

I didn't see the dinosaur. I did find some pretty flower plants, though, like this one.

[ You guys, pay attention. He's holding wolfsbane. Of the non-deadly variety - thanks, Remus, for pointing the shrubbery out that one time - but still wolfsbane. Oh nooo. ]

Anyone knows what flower this is?

-------

[ FILTERED TO LYDIA MARTIN + ALLISON ARGENT ]
so are you guys okay or just avoiding werewolves?

-------

[ FILTERED TO HAYLEY STARK ]
HH, how good are you with adults? this is important.

-------

[ FILTERED TO SERAPHIM DIAS ]
so i'm back. chocolates first, garden later?

[ There are a few things everyone might notice about this video post. One is that there's no way Jaye could have gotten from the medbay to the kitchen on the 001 passenger floor this quickly. Two is that her hair looks both dirtier and longer than usual, and instead of either happily mussed or neatly groomed, it's just a complete mess. Three is that, judging by the way Jaye sort of seems to be wobbling back and forth on the floor and has burst capillaries in her face, she was just rather sick and might be so again. Likewise, anyone who looked around before or after the jump may have noticed that Jaye wasn't there -- didn't go down, didn't go into the gravity couches, and that Faith Lehane was looking after her animals. ]

So. [ Her voice is hoarse, quiet, and the rasp is completely new and sounds painful –- in fact, she has to pause, clearing her throat for a moment. It doesn't go away completely, but she's a bit louder, at least. ] I-- [ and she winces ] sat out during the jump as an insect. Don’t do that. It was a month. Everything was red, copper and salt, until it ended.

[ It hurts to talk, and Jaye takes a moment to rub at her throat. ] Want a shower, food.

[ She pauses, glancing away from the camera for a moment. Her eyes aren’t exactly wet, and maybe it's from her earlier vomiting, but either way... ] Missed you guys. [ And she cuts the feed. ]

((ooc: MCU!Tony will be getting her from the kitchen and carrying her down to medical. Her replies will probably come from after she's there and probably be in text form. If your character wants to go visit her there (or fuss at her or whatever), I'd be up for it, but be warned that she's having a bit of a hard time talking at the moment and will set Faith on you if she feels shitty.

Also someone might want to clean up the 001 kitchen. ))

[The feed comes on to show Taylor looking pretty annoyed, a sharp frown pinching her brows even as something a little more weary lingers in her eyes. Her tone, when she starts speaking, still comes out strong, more authoritative than might be remembered from her before. Her first real announcement as Head of Security, she's keeping her shoulders set and her gaze level.]

I was thinking that this was basic fucking common sense, but seeing as some of you seem to need someone to actually say this shit, I'm gonna lay it out for you.

You don't kill each other, you don't assault each other, you don't steal each other's belongings and you don't damage each other's belongings.

[A pause, making sure those sit clearly before she carries on.]

There is a security team here, we're active and we will take action to enforce these basic rules and rights if we see or are informed of them being broken. Each infraction will be dealt with individually, so don't ask me for a blanket 'what will you do if'. SEC's here to keep everyone safe, not to control your lives. Most of you know the kind of shit we've had to deal with here - if you don't, you should've read about it. It's bigger and it's nastier than this kind of sniping, so calm the fuck down and stop fucking with each other already.

[A moment, keeping the same hard expression before she seems to relax slightly, looking away at something off camera and then back again.]

Personal request: if there's anyone that can do tattooing or just art shit, drop me a message. [A slight motion of her shoulders, almost a shrug.] Been doing them myself, but I want these somewhere I can't get at. Can show you how to do it bare-bones, if you don't know.

[ it's obvious this is going to be a serious post just from the look on robb's face. this is the king in the north, drawn up ice cold and stone-faced on the screen and there's nothing of the boy in his face. the direwolf at his side is a hulking mass of fur, teeth bared and eyes gleaming and no, this is not meant to be a light-hearted post. ]

Upon this ship there is a woman called Cersei Lannister, who arrived most recently. In Westeros, she dealt my house a great and terrible injury, and the matter must be settled, for it cannot be ignored. If she hears this, then I call her to treat with me, and submit herself for judgement for her crimes.

[ and grey wind snarls, ears set back and hackles raised, just as robb cuts the feed. ]

[ When the video turns on, the feed is shaking slightly—Ygritte is walking through one of the ship's many corridors, backlit by the sterile luminescent lights overhead. She covers her mouth and coughs slightly before speaking into the camera. ]


...Anyone know of wise women, on board the ship? Where I come from, we call 'em woods witches, but I don't know that's what they're called everywhere.

[ A slight pause. ] I'm looking for moon tea, 'f anyone knows where t' find some.

[ it's been a rough couple months for everyone, and the mystic fall contingent no less so. still, when jenna opens the feed she looks more alert and cheerful-- not to mention: less inebriated-- than she has in a while. the locker full of things both useful and frivolously, uselessly cheerful made a few conversations come back in stark relief, and with new light.

she waves a little, shoving her hair out of her face impatiently after. ]

Hey. Okay, so. If you're new, hi, I'm Jenna. Everyone else-- yes, this is what I look like without a bottle in my hand.

[ she rolls her eyes a little, ducking her chin. ]

Bad joke, but that's part of my point. I've been here since jump one, and it really doesn't take a genius-- [ sup, tony. ] to see that the stress has been getting to me. And while my method of coping ended up being attached to a few too many embarrassing in retrospect public posts, I know I'm not the only one. Whether we've been here almost ten months or a little over a week, this is a stressful situation and I hate to be that person, but it's not getting less stressful.

The point is, nobody wants to be Steve Buscemi in the asteroid movie. Not the Morgan Freeman one, the less intellectual... disaster movie. Anyway. [ she exhales, waves a hand. ] Sorry. The actual point is high pressure situations lead to people breaking down, and we've already started down that way. We need to pull back on that, keep ourselves as healthy and happy as we can be.

[ or we'll end up like gallagher, is what she doesn't say, but for the well-informed the subtext is clear. ]

I have a list. Of suggestions, pretty much. I'm not nominating myself leader for change, I'm really not, but if they help... [ she trails off, then taps a few keys. ] It's not very long, just a few basics.

( ( IC TEXT ATTACHMENT | CUT TO SAVE FLISTS ) )

And I had one more idea, but this one is a little more personal. Godric and now that guy with all the meat got me thinking-- yes, okay, we're all in space and no one can remember signing the kidnapping permission slip. But we're from a million different worlds and times, and-- maybe some kind of organized story swap? Like a culture exchange. [ she's more animated now, moving her hands as she talks. ] Like, okay, for example. I'm someone's bannerwoman, but until Alayne explained the reference to me I didn't get why the word 'banner' came into it at all. And forget knowing what Jersey Shore is, there are plenty of us who have never even seen a tv.

Even just vocabulary is so different in places, seeing us all mix together would be a cultural anthropologist's dream. [ oh right, not just babbling. clearing her throat, jenna shrugs. ] Anyway. I don't have a framework, but before I try that is anyone interested? I thought a place where talking about home is the whole point might be helpful for some people, too.

...I never know how to end these things. Over and out? I guess.

So give or take a month [or a couple of weeks] and thank whoever runs this boat, we finally got some movies. They've got a swell soundtrack and an even better star. I know some of you have actually heard of Captain America [his voice takes on a little patina of pride here] but he was a terrible actor.

Seriously, he couldn't stop looking at the camera.

And the one movie where they asked him to kiss the dame at the end, I heard he practically tripped over himself to avoid it.

[Okay, it's entirely possible that Howard is making that up]

I built a projector, and Bucky wants to host a viewing, so if you might be a fan of the Star-Spangled Man, or if you just don't have anything to do, come over.

[And look at the projector I built out of spare things I found lying around.]

It's better than sitting around thinking about the physical impossibilities of interstellar travel.

[Or the sons you have. Plural, now. Doesn't everyone do that?]

[Private to Tony Stark (MCU) | 100% encrypted]

You got a brother? A kind of dim one?

[Private to Miss Stone | 100% encrypted]

I talked to him, Miss Stone, but I don't think he's interested in anything else.

[ it takes her longer than she likes to figure out how to work the device; after enough cautious tinkering, rhoda manages to work her way around the text function. it's still damned fiddly; the keys are smaller than that of a typewriter and she has yet to discover how to underline words for emphasis (which is perhaps for the best; she would certainly abuse that option, though now what you get is the wanton abuse of capslock in its place). ]

I understand that NO amount of scrubbing will rid me of the markings on my arm.
However, might I inquire as to whether there are any witches aboard this star-ship who have at the very least succeeded in HIDING it under a Glamour?
I would attempt to do so myself, but I don't know if there are any enchantments or wards upon the thing already. No one wishes to have their magic BACKFIRE upon them, naturally.
Beyond that, should anyone care to explain just WHY we must be branded like CATTLE as though we were PROPERTY of this vessel, I would be INFINITELY grateful.

Yours Faithfully,
Lady Rhoda Lamb

[Locked to Robb, Jon, Alayne, Bran | Encrypted 20%]

The queen is here.

[It's the first voice post she's made, and there is so much emotion in her voice that it's hard to tell if she's angry, scared, or just excited.

She isn't the girl she was, outspoken and forward but innocent. That girl is gone, and the one that took her place is harder and fiercer.]

[Locked to Alayne | Encrypted 30%]

[And, apropos of nothing:] A girl has a request.

[ Hello, world. It's Jaime Lannister's face, bearded and short of hair, finally here for you to enjoy in a way that isn't just antagonizing people on the network. Though, with that said, Jaime does look a little smug at the moment, pleased with something that can't be readily divined just by staring at the screen.

At the same time, for any in audience who know him well enough to read such things or are just good at doing so anyhow, there's some tension around his jaw. Worry or just suppressed impatience? ]

Not to sound needlessly alarming, but I could use the assistance of someone trained in both the healing arts and the ways of living metal. One of our regrettably recently departed saw fit to leave me a gift on his way out, which I would like to have in working order sooner rather than later.

I would be in your debt. And my family is well-known for always seeing to it that our debts are paid.

[ ooc; thanks to dirk strider, jaime's got a robotic hand that needs attaching. please help the poor medieval knight. ]

Tranquility.

[ It's with a warm sort of politesse that Petyr addresses the network this time around, a crimson sash draped over one of his shoulders and a new set of robes upon his frame. Visible next to him, at the fringe of the image, is a girl with chestnut brown hair and her hands folded in her lap, who should prove familiar to at least some upon the ship. ]

I inquired some months ago as to the existence of a physical library, and was informed that the ship lacked such a facility. As such, I have taken it upon myself to begin one for the sake of those who would prefer the feel of a solid page than the, ah. Furnishings that the ship provides. My collection is meager, but it is more than what was available upon my arrival. Should you care to take advantage of it, I can be found upon the fifth level, next to the quarters that Alayne Stone — [ at the mention, the girl sitting next to him smiles prettily and offers up a wave ] — keeps as a seamstress. She has offered her help in my endeavor, to care for the books in my absence.

That said, should you be willing to part with them, we would greatly appreciate any spare books that you might have. This service is without charge, and meant simply for the comfort of those upon the ship.

I have taken the liberty of attaching the list of the books collected so far, and hope that some of you, at least, will find some use in it.

[ And, with a duck of his head, the feed cuts out. ]

ATTACHMENT.


ooc: feel free to talk to petyr or alayne or both!

[Isaac had tried calling every single number he knew, without any success, even if he wasn't sure this phone-looking thing could call the numbers he typed into it, but he chooses to be optimistic that it's in his possession for some reason; he had to try. In the end, though, he went with the tried and tested method of hitting buttons at random and hoping for the best — which is how he finds himself looking at what he's pretty sure is a video call.]

Oh, huh.

I guess this is working? I was trying to call someone but I don't think it worked, this phone is kind of new. Can you tell me where I am, by the way? I'm... lost.

[No duh, Isaac.

He's just going to plow through the implication of the fact that he's missing a good chunk of memory from when he left the Hale house to now, whenever now is. He figured kidnapping was par for the course with being a werewolf, he really did, but this?]

This is too weird.