[ when she sees Moran with his rifle, strutting down the hallway like he's all that and a bag of sliced bread with potato chips, Wichita knows that he is up to Absolutely No Good. she can just tell. so naturally, she follows, maybe hoping to discover some blackmail material, or something she could make fun of him for later on when he least expects it. you know, the usual. but after a while ( where the hell are they going? ) she gets bored, and turns on her communicator. she switches the video feed to show ( kind of ) what she's looking at, which is Moran making his way through the hallways, her stalking casually following him a few yards behind.

when she talks, it's in a dramatic stage whisper. ]

Oi viewers! You've just tuned in for another cracking good episode of Wild Safari Adventures With Sebastian Moran. This week, we follow the wild Maroonie into uncharted territories! [ nah let's not try for an accent here. she laughs, as quietly as she can, then starts again. ] No, but seriously. I know this is creepy as shit, but this guy's been creepy as shit too, so it evens out.

[ Moran has his rifle balanced rather jauntily on his shoulder, but his ears are tuned into Wichita's entire commentary and his mood is slowly souring. Thanks, Wichita. He sounds nothing like that. He gives an exasperated sigh and eyes her over his shoulder. Gurl, you in trouble now. ]

I've heard sneakier footsteps from an elephant. An especially large one. With a limp. Have nothing better to do with your time, then?

( --hup! Discovered. )



[ooc: the cut is ooc, just to save your flist. UM. Moran is ORANGE, Wichita is BLUE. replies will come from both once Hannah wakes up again and Moran is done, um, running. have made plans for someone to come pick her up, but she'll be talking ( kinda! ) to anybody that answers. i'll include random notes in the tags as we go. idek.

BUT YEAH. YAY GUN RANGE! underneath all this ridiculousness, the ship's actual gun range has been discovered! Wichita will give directions once she's got medical attention. :D ]

SON OF A BITCH!

[Surely no one on the Tranquility has motion sickness. If you do, sorry about the view you're getting of a very shaky camera feed of Wilee pedaling as his life depended on it down the halls of the ship, cutting sharp corners like a pro. It's obvious he's scared out of his wits by something. Maybe it's Smiley, finally showing up in person. Maybe it's some space monster that somehow managed to get on the ship. Maybe it's...

...an angry turkey. Well, that explains the fear. That shit is scary. It looks angry as it flaps its wings and chases after Wilee, no matter how fast he pedals. Fuck you, human on a bike. It wants to peck your eyes out.]

WHY ARE YOU CHASING ME? I WILL TURN YOU INTO A SANDWICH, SWEAR TO GOD. I'M TIRED OF SHIT COMING AFTER ME.

[ click! as the device starts recording. the screen is filled by a strange, helmeted visage -- all features completely obscured, just shiny black material and smooth curves. a pause, as the figure tilts is head slightly, then speaks in a curious, electronically-masked voice. ]

What a strange vessel.
Lacking in New-U stations,
psychos and midgets.

[ and then a brief pause before his helmets project a holographic image -- a bright red :) that floats before the glossy surface. ]

I seek a way home.
But until then, for hire:
Expert assassin.

Just a brief request:

To those of you who have pets, especially canines, would you please let me know if they enjoy chewing on bones?

Just making sure I know which ones to avoid at all earthly costs.

[pause.]

Also, I think we should ask around and find the most capable tailor aboard this ship. Seems like you could make a bit of a killing when it comes to making a nice suit or two. Just throwing that one out there.

Bonus points, if you could manage to fit an abnormally slim frame. I've only met one man to do it, and I'd like to see someone outdo him, in case he ever shows up and decides to try and mock me for only wearing one suit this entire time.

Wasn't an eleven before. Guess that means someone sent me back.

[Didn't really feel like it. One moment he was fighting off the hunger, the other he was as good as new, and a couple of months late.]

I expected a better welcome back than that, [CAT] But it sounds like I got off easy.

What else did I miss?

[Are you enjoying your relatively quiet comm. right now? Yeah? Well, Takeshi has some stuff he's gotta do. Firstly, he's stuck—transferred, more than likely—and secondly, he can't find anyone he knows. After trying to figure out what the hell to do with this thing (it's kinda like a phone, huh? but...), he finally gets the VOICE down. Unfortunately, his way of trying to use it is talking a little louder than someone should to the blasted thing. That's why a young voice pops up, a slight lisp audible, common with his age:]

DAD?! Dad, can you hear me?! I'm stuck in this weird place, but I'm not dead!

[Thankfully, he leans back from the recorder a little. Thankfully.]

 I think they transferred me, like they did you and Reika. There's some people here, but I don't think they're from the room like us; maybe they're just stuck here by aliens, or maybe they are really aliens like those ones from before, I dunno, but I'll tell you when I figure out. I'm gonna be okay, and I know where the food is and I can take care of myself... but don't get hurt, okay? I'll find you! I can do it. Then Gantz can take us back home and we can stop the monsters from hurt any more people!

[... A pause.]

I love you, dad! I'll definitely see you soon.

[He can only hope soon. His dad is Muscle Rider, so it's gotta be soon...

Muscle Rider never fails him.

Whelp, time to keep searching. Maybe even make himself a sandwich messily.]

[ 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. ))

[ There's a sort of incredibly groan of desperate boredom before the Swedish guy starts talking in his atrocious accented voice: ] How the fuck do you guys keep yourselves entertained in this shit hole? [ Clearly, this guy wasn't affected by the weird silent hill (tm) mist and he probably doesn't check the communicator as often as he should. ] You know, besides trying to play detective and shit, 'cus that is not for me. That's shit for boring people.

[ He groans again after a long sigh. ] Never thought I would say this, but I'm even getting bored of wanking. My hand has blisters from it and there ain't even any magazines here. You girls should post naked pictures more. [ He thinks he's an awesome comedian because he just laughed loudly at that. ] Maybe I should do some, huh, gardening or however you say it 'cus I am trying to save up my weed. I am dreading the day I use it all up. [ A pause to think as he lights up a cigarette. ] Maybe we could plant some cannabis plant in the Gardens, hey? Something to do, but I bet some of you shitheads would steal it. Or be all "you can't do that" 'cus you are all pussies.

[ Another beat as he sucks on his cigarette and shifts on his seat, playing with the lighter (you can hear the metal click-click-click of it). ]

Yo. How do you guys like, keep track of time here, yeah? Are there calendars?

[ 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. ]

Where is the morgue?

Or what is being used as the morgue?

[ So. There's a door. There's a door that appears to be open, though it's a bit crooked, and there's a rather large dent in it.

There's also John Grimm, standing there and looking vaguely sheepish, and looking much more noticeably like he just rolled out of bed. ]

I could use some help here, when someone gets a chance.

Okay, I don't wanna sound like a total insensitive jerk, or a whiny brat or anything? I mean, I get that people have died and gone missing and stuff and it's super concerning and all- [ one palm lifts to rub at the back of her neck, only to fall a beat later, when her hands flutter demonstratively as she speaks. ] and I totally get that most of you guys are busy like- running the ship and saving people and doing cool-futuristic-space stuff?

But would it be too much to ask to maybe get a calendar running around here?

[ she squints briefly, one finger lifted as a preemptive shush. ] -In before but Hayley that's just totally depressing because we've already got space tats with our dates on them. So, time's already racked up. No blaming a calendar for sulking.

Okay hang on, what was I sayi- Oh right. Yeah, a calendar.

I mean I've been here, what- [ her cheeks puff out when her gaze drops, checking the digits on the inside of her arm before she continues, shrugging carelessly. ] six runs now? Seriously, every day is like, the same stuff over and over again ad nauseum. Why not bust up the routine a little? We can have space Christmas. And trick or treating. And whatever other non-human totally random holidays you guys have.

No but really. It's getting boring.

And I know this is kinda lame, but I'm pretty much desperate, and then there's that whole proverb, desperate measures etcetera etcetera. I mean, if all else fails we can waste some time. And if it goes over well then, hey, you have at least three socially acceptable calendar excuses to get wasted and make terrible life decisions. Right?

As some of you may have noticed, a very significant portion of this crew isn't ready to stand up and fight if something happens, whether it be on or off the ship, as our recent shore leave proved.

If you don't want to learn how to fight, that's fine. However, if anyone is willing to learn, I'll offer what free time I have to teach basic hand-to-hand. I'm a trained Marine, and while I come from what some of you might consider the future, the basics on using an opponent's strength to disarm them have remained the same over the generations.

I'd like to focus on teaching people how to disarm an armed opponent and escape without injury, but if anyone wants to learn anything more advanced, feel free to contact me either here, or privately.

I'm not interested in arguing the pros and cons of civilians getting involved in a fight, so save your breath if you're going to raise complaints. I'm trying to make sure people who want to defend themselves have the tools they need to do it. All things considered, we could use a little more of that right now. ["And a little less irresponsible behavior" goes unsaid, but implied. Shepard is all for cutting loose and having fun, but not when people have been disappearing and dying all willy-nilly. Right now is a time for srs business.]

So, look, I get everybody's all jazzed about that list or whatever, and people wanna do the mourning thing. All good, have at it.

What I'm wondering though, is what we got working to find out who helped the dead dude get that way. Still pretty new around here so I don't know what you got rigged up already, but where I'm from something like this happens we mount up before there's a dead guy number two.

[ so that was... kind of a job application. if you tilt your head and squint. and to seal the deal. ]

Wouldn't mind helping out.

[ Maybe you recognize him from his little panic attack after falling naked out of the goo tube. Maybe you've never seen him before in your life. Either way, Cillian's looking into the device, held with the steadiness of a master Skyper, his blue eyes underswept with dark smudges. ]

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

[ The Bible verse is recited low, steadily, in his thick Northern Irish accent. At the end, one eyebrow twitches up, wry, and he licks his lips briefly. ]

I'm confessing, I was never the type to keep a video blog. Bit weird, being that you can see me and I can't see you. It's just it's, erm, it's different to acting.

[ He tugs the lobe of one overlarge ear, catches that he's digressing. ]

Erm. My point was. Actually, I've a couple of questions, though I've read around a bit, and since I'm getting the impression not all of you are brand new to this circus I was hopin' to get an easy answer. [ And he adds, muttered, wry and almost bitter: ] Or a computer, if you've got one you've not already given to a Suicide Girl.

Right. Questions. Can we smoke on the ship? Does anyone know what the letters O-P-R and the numbers on my arm are meaning, apart from letting me get around places? Am I gonna get in trouble if I share someone else's room? And where do I go to get more insulin?

[ He nods once, a little jerkily. ]

Yeah, that's the lot of them. Cheers.

This is the updated list.

> 001 » 005 (TONY STARK)
> 001 » 033 (JAMES T. KIRK)
> 001 » 060 (HOTSPUR) DECEASED
> 001 » 099 (TODD / GUIDE)
> 001 » 106 (MEGAMIND)
> 001 » 200 (SPOCK)
> 002 » 125 (NEAL CAFFREY)
> 002 » 200 (ABERDEEN) GONE
> 003 » 012 (RIDDICK)
> 003 » 038 (JONATHAN CRANE / SCARECROW)
> 003 » 094 (TATE LANGDON)
> 003 » 150 (CASTIEL) GONE
> 003 » 180 (CHAPEL HILL)
> 004 » 006 (CROWLEY) PINGED; UNRESPONSIVE, BOUNCED SIGNAL. PRESUMED CONFIRMED GONE
> 004 » 036 (NED THE PIEMAKER)
> 005 » 021 (OXFORD)
> 005 » 079 (PETER PETRELLI)
> R (RESNIK)
> W (WARD)

> 001 » 012 (NATASHA ROMANOFF)
> 001 » 051 (JANE FOSTER) GONE
> 001 » 113 (CHASE KILGANNON)
> 001 » 198 (SHERLOCK HOLMES | BBC) DECEASED
> 002 » 004 (DUNDEE) GONE
> 002 » 023 (SHERLOCK HOLMES | RITCHIE)
> 002 » 035 (ISAAC CLARKE)
> 002 » 080 (DEATH) GONE
> 004 » 012 (ERIK LEHNSHERR / MAGNETO) GONE
> 005 » 044 (ROBB STARK)
> 005 » 091 (JIM MORIARTY)
> 006 » 029 (DR. BRUCE BANNER / THE HULK)
> 006 » 066 (BASS) GONE
> 006 » 072 (ISAAC MENDEZ) DECEASED
> 006 » 078 (NATHAN PETRELLI)
> 006 » 138 (JAYE RINNARK)
> 006 » 140 (HATTER)
> 006 » 145 (STEFAN SALVATORE)
> T (???)

[Locked to TONY STARK]
Can you block access to our project from Sherlock's communicator? I don't know who's in possession of it now.

[ooc note: The names in parenthesis are for OOC reference only. Characters should only see the numbers.]

For anyone who might care one way or another, Crowley's gone. Your bra straps are safe, or whatever.

[ From the tone of her voice, it sounds like she expects most people to be pleased about this and that she's not exactly pleased about it herself. ]

I'm not going to be giving advice in his place, so sorry to anyone who might have been lo- fuck!

[ There's a loud noise, the sound of Jaye hitting the ground with a rather unceremonious "THUD". ]

What the fuck did I just--

[ And then the feed cuts. ]

((ooc: Don't worry, she just tripped over the hellhound Crowley left behind. She'll still be replying!))

[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.))