[ As usual York's posture is casual as he appears on the video feed. This time he's set the comm unit farther away from him so that the viewer can see him leaning against his desk, walking a pen end to end between his fingers. ]

So hey, I know it's been a while since we talked about doing this, but Blake disappeared and I never followed up. So I figured I'd take a little informal poll, see who might still be interested. We were going to start a sports league, sort of an informal thing where anybody who feels like tossing a ball around can work off some energy, make new friends, that kind of thing.

[ The pen flipped out of his hand just then, but instead of chasing it he merely lounges back even farther, his hands on the edge of the desk. ]

Any contributions, any suggestions, I'm up for all of it. We'd talked about soccer and basketball originally. We don't have any regulation balls but hell, we've all gotten good at improvising around here, right?

Oh, we need nets and baskets too. Anybody who can help out by making that kind of stuff, I'd like to hear from you too.

_{[ A quick, organized opening here! America stands in his quarters, his little gray alien friend in the background, seeming busy drawing on a piece of paper. Don't mind him, he's just an alien doing his thing (and never leaves America's side.)
America's posture is surprisingly straight, and he takes a breath. ]}

Yo yo yo, you guys! Haha, Right, yeah. Just sayin'-- let's not totally forget that at some hella estimated time from when I arrived here, it was June --pffff-- SOMETHING or another, 2013. This means like, woah, all those star-spangled decorations are poppin' up at every craft store and bitches trying to plan their BBQs! It's really fucking awesome. Why? Hah, are you stupid? Cause it's my birthday on the 4th of July. BOOYAH!

Now! Who the shit knows what the date is now, or where you've come from, maybe the 4th of July didn't exist, but I'm telling you-- telling you now, bro-- I'm not going a round without having a CELEBRATION one way or another! Crazy-weird spooky-suspicious haunted space ship or NOT! Hahaha! Even if it may not be the precise date, this is a time to reflect on the LIBERTY and the FREEDOM of America!

So yeaaaaah, YEAHHH, HAHAHA-- basically, YEAH, I AM saying, we should totally throw a party for me. It may not be the same with the hottie chicks in bikinis and the grill outs and fireworks, BUT, we can still reflect on America and how great it-- and -- I am.

_{[ A beat. ]}

Maybe have a drink or two! I can handle my booze well!
That aside! I don't think I've properly introduced myself over the network. You can call me Alfred F. Jones, and I'm one of the three Nations on this ship. You got some beef about it or questions, man? Talk to me! I'll be glad accurately to fill you in about us!

I'm also pretty happy to bro it out with you dudes and lend a hand or two with anything. I'm pretty good with a gun if that means anything! Well, right! That's all! Tell me what you think!

_{[ A salute, then he turns it off. ]}

So, alright!

[ someone take Wichita's comm away. now. now, now, now. she's sitting in the back room of the bar, not exactly trashed, but on her way. there's 90s music muffled in the background, as always, though she's not paying any attention to what's going on out there at this point. she's been back here, thinking.

how depressing. ]

I know this ship is mostly all doom and gloom, hey, I've had cold proof of that fact shoved down my throat time and time again. I get it. I know. This place sucks. ... Sorry, oh-two-oh's, but it's the truth.

But listen up. It's been way over a year since a lot of us showed up, and apparently our last jump lasted an additional year, so that means.. we've all missed a birthday. If not two! Or more, if more than one jump lasted that long. Which, to me, is a reason to celebrate. And don't give me any crap about not celebrating your birthday, because no, come on. You should party, you should feel pretty damn great about yourself. You've survived. You didn't let this place ruin you.

That's definitely worth celebrating.

[ and that's definitely something she's still working on convincing herself to be true, so. here's the motivation behind this whole transmission. oh boy. ]

And so, I'm declaring that today is, officially, our universal birthday. Everybody on the ship! It's your birthday today. So, go nuts. Forget about the fact that this place sucks for five minutes and have a drink or eat some space cake - if you can find anything like cake here anymore - do whatever you want. Relax. But mostly just try and do whatever you can to forget that this place is eventually going to k-

[ woop, crashbangbam. that's what it looks and sounds like when someone drops their comm in the middle of a sentence, oops. oh well. there's a muttered just do it! before she shuts off the comm. prepare yourselves crewmates, for the best game of pretend Wichita can muster considering.. everything. she'll try and help with the whole chilling out thing. she's not a con artist for nothing. ]

[ Caboose is extremely frustrated by the time the feed comes on; A large pout spread across his face. ]

Someone please tell me where to find a biscuit. [ That sounded much more like a demand than a request. That also wasn't a very polite way to introduce himself to the network either. Miraculously, he realized that all by himself. So let's try that again with a disturbingly sincere change in attitude. ]



My name is Caboose! And I am looking for a biscuit. You know. The toasty kind. With gooey jelly. And then you try to make a second one, but it never comes out like the one you made right before it and then you get kind of sad. You make more and you feel worse each time... That kind!

If anyone knows where to find some biscuits, please leave a message after the beep telling me where they are. Thank you! Beep!

[ That didn't work. It didn't stop. He doesn't notice. ]

_{[ There's a bit of fuzziness-- chattering-- like a conversation between two people. One has a high pitched voice and seems to be dropping the F-bomb with indescribable chatter, and the other is entirely too loud. Way, way too loud. There is a bright light, and then, two red eyes belonging to an alien creature peer into the communication device-- and then, the loud voice is heard again-- ]}

Dude! What in the name of Liberty's lingerie do you think you're doing! This is like hardcore stuff, like, super way cool hardcore stuff probably seen right out of the X-Files! Tony, my number one man, don't you drop that! Give me that!

_{[ The device it jerked from the alien creature, who doesn't seem pleased with this at all. We now see a set of blue eyes and glasses with blonde hair--
aaaaaand. He's panicking.
Of course America was going to to jump to the cellular device and post to the network before anyone else are you kidding me-- ]}

Okay! OKAY! Like, I need all of my back up ASAP here pronto! We've been kidnapped-- okay, no, actually, this is like--

_{[ He pants, looking around. There is still a good amount of blue goop on his face and good lord America get dressed you're still in your star and striped underwear. ]}

OKAY YOU KNOW HOW YOU'RE LIKE MINDING YOUR OWN BIZWHACK AND SUDDENLY YOU GET THAT WEIRD SINKING FEELING IN YOUR BODY LIKE DEJA VU LIKE FREAKY WEIRD DEJA-VU, Yeah, man, TOTALLY getting that feeling and it's freakin' me out, man! Holy SHIT, this is bad! I was just jamming to Katy Perry like a boss and then I think I fell asleep on a bunch of like important government papers or something that I was supposed to do-- who gives a crap that's not serious right now-- I--

_{[ A BREATH!!!! Slow down, America! You talk like a thousand miles. And he does slow down, becoming a bit more coherent. ]}

--I-- think I've been here before, but I don't know--! What if somebody erased my brain like outta some sci-fi movie and put weird memories back in and now I'm going to be pregnant with alien children or something mondo-crazy like WHOA-- uhh-- hey! Can anybody even hear me? This isn't like an Apple product or anything I don't think so I hope I'm using it right--

Yo, uhh, France! China! Canadia! Even England-- and I guess Russia-- ANYBODY! What the hell is going on?

_{[ Welcome back, America. Your memories of this place will gradually come to mind-- but here you are-- impulsively reacting without thinking as usual. Here's a permission post for 4th walling. ]}

[ Video feed clicks on and shows America, looking rather heathy and munching on some sort of space chips or something. Who knows.
Tony is around too, popping in an out in the background of the video, occasionally making little cooing sounds and swearing. With a salute and wink, he begins to speak: ]

HEY GUYS, IT'S AMERICA.
OKAY!!!
Since like EVERYBODY for the most part is all honky-dory here, this has crossed my mind SEVERAL times. Like even if my priority task list is TOTALLY IMPORTANT, you know the back up plan that I made a few weeks ago, I was thinking more about like a judicial system here. It came up in a conversation I had with the Frenchie, but I don't think he really gives a shit cause he's French and they're known to do that... you know, give a shit about nothing and just go on strikes.
So!!
Thoughts, people? Should another fiasco arise, what are we going to do about it, huh? How should we find people guilty as charged and punish them?  Has anybody talked about this and I've missed out? Cause that ain't cool, cats and dogs.
I mean, it's really important people going nutsy here are punished! So there needs to be like.. a band of KICKASS AWESOME POLICE FORCE PEOPLE.

HELL. FUCKING. YES.

[ He clears his throat then runs a hand through his hair. Taking in a breath, he speaks with a little more seriousness. He doesn't bother to filter, just talk. ]

Also... if you're a nation, do you mind telling me if you're still here or not? That'd be, uh, nice.
So, HEADCOUNT:
Communist dickwad! Creepy Frenchman! Sexy Belarussian! Bat-shit Hungarian! Dickbuddy Austrian! Dutch Stoner! Anybody else!
Oh, and uh.. Canadia too I guess.

[ Bonjour, salut, ciao members of the Tranquility. Today you’re in for a special treat: France has finished his metaphysical contemplation regarding his presence amongst others on the ship and he’s in the mood to share. ]

[ To all who may be viewing, the screen flashes on to reveal France, sitting amongst the gardens, stroking his chin lightly as he smiles at the device before him. He seems to have finally found a way out of that awful jumpsuit without ditching the idea of clothing altogether. Currently he’s sporting a beret, a black v-neck sweater and a pair of glasses that if you look closely, have no lenses. Fucking hipsters. ]

Hello, my dear friends. We have all been together for some time now, have we not? And in this time imprisoned aboard this vessel, what is it that we have learned? We have all asked many questions, most pertaining as to of why we are here, how many of us are here, how is it that we discover a way to return to the worlds we truly inhabit. A few of us have even toyed with what will be my conclusion in broadcasting this message, but I have heard none of you ask another very important question: how are we supposed to live aboard this ship?

( Ah, so-- )

[This video feed is dark. There's light filtering in from somewhere, and it's just enough to highlight the silhouette of a person, apparently crammed into some kind of confined space. Closet? Air vent? Who knows. This is probably meant to be an audio post, and there is evidence that an attempt was made to filter it away from at least two parties. Neither of these efforts were successful.]

Here's a problem for all of you. Real brain-buster, this one, if you catch my drift.

[Hi Wheatley.]

Let's say, hypothetically, I have a friend who, um…sort of…found himself in a situation where things got a little complicated. Circumstances out of his control, you know how it goes. Did some things…maybe said some things…that…were not the best things to say or do. Point is, this friend of mine made a couple of ladies rather upset.

Thing is, he didn't think he'd see either of them ever again! Turns out he was wrong. Saw them again…much sooner than he anticipated. And is now a bit…unsure of what to do, right? Because…they all parted on, uh. Less-than-stellar terms.

Still purely speculative, here, by the way. In case you forgot.

So we'll confirm that one of the ladies actually deserves an apology, which he did, in fact, grant. Right off. First thing he did, apologize to her. And he--and he thought it would make him feel better about the whole thing, but it didn't. Which…doesn't make any sense at all, because that's not what's supposed to happen. You're supposed to say you're sorry, and she's supposed to say "apology accepted, and also I'm sorry for a couple of things that may have upset you in turn", and then you say "that's all right, let's go back to being mates". And you do.

But that's not--that's not what happened, and honestly, I think he feels worse because she is…still angry. Hypothetically angry. Or--or hypothetically disappointed, at the very least. Which is…the complete opposite of what he wants. It's--it's all terribly confusing and he is not entirely sure how to go about correcting this and would…very much like to not be on the receiving end of her unstoppable wrath. We'll suppose he's already experienced it once and it was not. Pleasant.

And we'll say, hypothetically, that the other lady--if you can even call Her a lady--does not deserve an apology, because She is bloody insane, and also a homicidal maniac.

Actually, that's only partially hypothetical. It is, in fact, loosely based on the true story of a crazed lunatic fresh out of the gravity couches, absolutely hellbent on spilling my blood. I am capable of bleeding, now--that's a thing I've confirmed about this body, and I'm not terribly keen on having it happen again. Since arriving, She has already tried to murder me once, and might possibly attempt to murder others once I am dead. She might not even wait until I'm dead! Just…just throwing that out there. Food for thought.

[ The device pops on, the screen showing nothing but the fabric of someone's jumpsuit. Muffled sound of sobbing can be heard for a few moments, followed by sniffling, as the person tries to gain some composure.

After a moment they are fumbling with the device in attempt to flip it up towards their face. The sight of a distressed Ariadne can be seen then - looking more like she has been through the wringer then anything, and it's obvious something is wrong with her. She clutches her favorite silk scarf to her chest, wincing in pain before finally speaking. ]

Something's on the ship. [ Screw the filters and encrypting - she doesn’t care - she is scared as hell. ]


(( ooc: this would be for the FEEDING PLOT. Feel free to have this be action or whatever with Ariadne. Or even a catchall for others to communicate. LETS CAUSE A PANIC GUYS. : ) )

[Potentially dangerous to put her face on some weird, public network. Text is too impersonal. Audio, it is.]

So far, here's what I know...

We're on a ship. In space? A bunch of new people showed up a few days ago and this is not the first time it's happened. This place is RIDICULOUSLY huge and probably way easy to get lost in. No one's 'left' yet. There is a major flaw in the whole people-to-ship size ratio that's got me mighty curious and also hella suspicious with a side of concern.

Some kid named Dave likes swords and apparently I should call him sweetcheeks.

Alien dog-faces don't like when you bash their squeaky toys and also apparently know things about me. Do not want.

There are people here that know more than I do. You dudes wanna start talking? Because I'll be listening. Anyone willing to fill in the gaps for me will be compensated like woah. I'd mainly like to hear the 'why'.

[ The video clicks on, and there's a lanky blonde, somewhat tall, a bit muscled - for a minute you might mistake him for another particular person on the ship. It's easy to do, for some reason, unless of course you notice the hair first - the hair's actually very wavy and somewhat curled, one long strand hanging down. He does have a resemblance, but his body language is all wrong, lazily propped back against the wall, glancing towards the camera. ]

[ There's also a polar bear. ]

[ Albeit, a very small, rather harmless-looking one. For a second, you hear a voice speaking in soft, accented French, obviously talking to - the bear? Though it stops after a moment, and directs itself to the video. Matthew clears his throat. ]

Excuse me? [ He pauses for a moment, and when no one answers right away he sort of - figures things out a bit! Right, right, so there's a network, this is easier to use than he thought. ]

So, this is the Tranquility, eh? [ He rubs the back of his head and grins. He's soft-spoken, but raises his voice a little. ] And we're in space. If… [ He waves a casual hand around. ] This is any inclination?

[ Alright. He can do this. He's been to space before! - Really! He has. What. ] So, this is Matthew Williams or - Canada, if you'd rather. Sorry, uh. I don't suppose anyone has any aspirin, or anything? My head's been killing me since I got here. [ Never mind all the rather crazy, insane things he's been told by the people around him. It's enough to give anyone a headache. ]

[a brief flash of orange as the video turns on before the camera focuses on what looks to be sleeves on a jumpsuit tied around someone's waist. a moment's pause and there is a slight shuffle sound as the camera is brought up to reveal a face.

said face is of a woman of an indiscernible age. young-looking but...who the fuck knows with the way video game timelines work. her brows are stitched together as she examines the device. she looks perplexed, fatigued, and simply displeased with her current state of affairs, and her lips pull down into a pout before the picture blips off.

obviously someone is having trouble with her communication device!

a few seconds later it blips back on, and she still looks a bit disgruntled, but less so. there's a moments concentration and the device is brought closer to her face for a second, and then lowered at what would be reading level for the strange woman.

the tank she's wearing reads APERTURE LABORATORIES and once again, the feed cuts out.

seconds later, there's a bit of text.]

hello?

[her face appears once again, and she seems to be thinking carefully. obviously she is a woman of very little words.]

i won't test.

[o hey it's Wily again, dressed, as usual, in an absolutely impeccable suit. From the looks of things, he's somewhere in the passenger quarters, and he's completely surrounded by musical insturments of all kinds. Most look like they've been gathering dust.

He himself has an acoustic six string. He's lounging up against a wall, and he's very casually playing the guitar riffs from this.]

Thought some of you folks might want to know that I found a nice stash of instruments down here in the passenger quarters. Just. You know. Relevant to your interests.

[Chord!]

There's all types, too; classical stuff for you classical types, violins and such, some horns, got a few keyboards and I think there's a grand piano hiding back there somewhere. No clue if it's in tune. And, of course, there's some electric guitars and amps...

Like I said. Just thought you might be interested.