[sophie is holding the comm too close to her face, so it isn't all visible at once--it's a pair of pale eyes, a mass of dark hair, the sort of sharp cheekbones acquired from poor diet. the camera wobbles and then settles into place just far enough away to get her entire face, and the glimpse of a dark room behind her. the only light in the room is coming entirely from the comm. when she speaks, her accent is lilting and her voice is low.]

So I have discovered that the light comes from lightning channeled through metal wires in the walls. [that might explain the darkness around her.] Which is quite clever, truly. But it doesn't answer my question of how technology differs from sorcery, except in that people seem to believe in one or the other. Is technology simply an aspect of sorcery that has not yet been discovered where I am from? While difficult to believe, I suppose even my father could not have known everything.

[a pause, and she pushes her hair back from her face. it's clearly a nervous gesture.]

Also, how many of you have come here alone? It seems many are in familiar company with others from their homes, but I believe I have arrived unaccompanied. Not that this is an unusual situation, but still...

...Groeneveldts?

[ The feed opens on the familiar view of the security offices, and the possibly very familiar view of Tyke looking really annoyed. Though central on the video, there are two young men stood behind her, one looking particularly sullen, the other sheepish but friendly. ]

For any of you newer to the ship, my name is Tyke, I'm head of security. I'd give you the usual rundown on what that means, but we've got more immediate shit to deal with. It's been reported that there's a creature called a boggart loose on the ship.

[ She says 'report' and 'boggart' half incredibly unimpressed, half irritated. ]

This boggart shouldn't pose an urgent threat, but it's still gonna be trying to freak people out.

[ At which point she decides she's not the one that should be explaining the details of weird magic monsters, and steps back enough to nudge Remus more fully in front of the camera.

He knew it was coming eventually, but Remus still gives Tyke a startled look, then Draco an expectant one, shuffling to the side to make more room for him in the frame. There's a long second before Draco moves an inch in a helpful direction, his expression stormy and focus cast past the camera lens like he's ignoring it as Remus addresses the network. ]

It's a nonbeing--a nonhuman spiritous apparition. It can't hurt you-- [ is a lie told out of the impulse to be reassuring, followed by a mild grimace and swift correction. (And a cynical glance aside from Draco.) ] It won't kill you. It might hurt you. We're very sorry about all of this.

It will appear as something that frightens you. Whatever you see, it's not real, but it is corporeal. And amortal. You can't kill it. Get away from it, and let one of us know where you saw it. If we can pin it down somewhere, we can take care of it.

[ No they can't. ]

It will help if you stay in pairs or groups. If it's trying to scare more than one person, it might make mistakes.

You might get lucky, [ because Draco had to chime in eventually. ] If you're a-- if you're non-magical, you'll probably be too dense to see it as anything but a figment of your imagination. 'course, maybe not now.

It'll probably be found in dark spaces, you know, waiting in your wardrobe or under your bed, or in the bathroom before you turn the light on, or--

[ Remus steps on his foot--placidly, but not very subtly. Not interested in letting anymore wizard squabbling get played out on the network, Tyke neatly steps in again. ]

We'll be working on containing and dealing with it. Stay in your rooms unless necessary, report any sightings, and keep your heads level.

[ The last thing she wants is real passenger on passenger harm done because of this thing stirring people up. To her side, Remus tightens his mouth in a way that's half smile and half wince, like well there you have it, and glances at Tyke to check for permission before he shuts off the feed. ]

[[ ooc: blue is tyke, red is remus and green is draco! ]]

[ It's been a while since Killian's bothered with the network, and anyone familiar will notice some obvious changes. He's looking 50% less pirate, for one, though he probably still qualifies as a modern facsimile. His hook's out of view as he addresses the camera, flashing a broad, agreeable smile. ]

I realize we've all got more pressing matters to attend to, but if you've a moment for a quick question—

[ A brief pause. He probably should've thought this out before starting the feed. Instead he's running on irritation, and it's only now that he's second-guessing the idea of being completely upfront. Gold may be gone, but the ship isn't precisely full of saints. Telling them his heart's gone missing is a vulnerability he'd rather keep off the table.

And even if they haven't got villainous intent, he's pretty sure the majority of them will just make bad jokes. Vague it is. ]

If you've found anything curious in your locker with the past jump, I'd like to hear about it.

[ Plenty vague, also plenty easy to ignore. As much as he doesn't want to be asking for help in the first place, there's already been about four near-death incidents he'd rather not repeat. The smile fades, expression more sincere as he makes a reluctant addendum. ]

I've recently made a trip home, and it seems something of mine's been misplaced on the way back. Anyone who assists me in finding it, I'll be in your debt.

[Dean's been around a while now, long enough to get settled in and learn how to work the stove, so he figures it's about the right time to give the Tranquility a formal greeting. Video feed opens up to Dean clearly trying to keep himself in frame, chin ducking once he's sure everything's set up and running.]

For anyone I haven't met yet, which... I'm sure is probably most of you, my name's Dean Winchester.

[It sounds a little rehearsed. He's run it through his head a few times, and it drags on a little as the words spill out.]

I'm, uh... well, apparently I'm not exactly new here, but for all intents and purposes, let's just go with that. If I knew you any more than, say, a month ago, I hate to break it to you, but all that's pretty much gone now. Blank slate. Sorry.

[He doesn't seem all that perturbed by it, but he's been through it too often to really put a lot of heart in the sentiment. He does offer up a tight sort of grimace in apology, but a second later he plows on. His eyes duck down for a second, and then they're back on the camera.]

I've got a couple of questions for anyone who thinks they can answer them. First of all- has anyone ever been anywhere before this? I'm not talking about back home on Earth, or... wherever it is you're from originally. I mean, has anyone ever been bounced to another dimension, or universe, or... something like this ship, but different? Possibly 80% less Star Trek?

[There's a sort of awkward pause there, and it looks like he wants to extrapolate on that. His lips twitch, and then he shakes his head, evidently changing his mind.]

Second off, does anyone know anything about tech crap? See, I got this...

[The camera jiggles a little as his head ducks, he searches through his pockets to find another phone. It isn't a ship-designated communicator, but it looks similar. He holds it up irreverently, flipping it back and forth to display it.]

This other thing, but it's... [He gives it a floppy shake] dead as a doornail, and I can't exactly pick up a charger from the nearest Apple store, so. If anyone has any ideas on how to give it some juice, I'd appreciate it. I'd like to get some crap off of it.

[It's shoved absently back into his jacket pocket.]

Oh, and uh- one last thing. Any word on why some people aren't popping out of the space womb tube things? Is there an ETA on that, or is it step one to getting shipped back home? What's the deal with that?

[It's asked with a sort of consternated, displeased expression. Obviously his phone isn't going to answer him, so after a weird second, he shrugs it off. Scratches awkwardly at his cheek.]

That's pretty much it. Anything you got for me would just be... awesome. Over and out.

[The camera gets a lovely second of vertigo wherein he shifts the view from his face to his boots before he can finally cut the feed.]

[ For all that Emma tries not to brood, she missed space Christmas and news of Pan's curse has her feeling particularly sentimental. Reflective, even. And the prospect of losing her memories, losing her loved ones, only serves to remind her that sooner or later, they're all trying, in some capacity, to lose the people they've grown to care about aboard the Tranquility. ]

A friend of mine pointed out a while back that not everyone has a home to go back to at this point. Or one worse than what's here, whether that means they're dead or just some other kind of screwed.

[ Strangely, with Dean back now, she has to wonder if he'd say the same again. That staying on the ship, even as it is now, is better than the alternative for some. Getting a read on him is tougher now. It feels like she's missing pieces. ]

What about you? What's your best case scenario for whenever we figure out what the hell's going on here? Do you go home, forget all about it? Backtrack to Arima and set up shop?

Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.

[Nick looks only mildly amused. He's actually had that happen, and it's not so fun, but someone's already said that they're working on it, so....]

There's way too much crappy art on board this thing, and not enough crappy artists showing themselves. I'm getting a little bored of chasing ghosts.

['Unnerved' would probably be a better word, not that he'll admit it.]

So if anyone's got a deck of cards or some dice, let's get something going. We don't even have to gamble, not unless you're willing to take a silver filling for payment.

Hi, I'm Annie Sawyer with-

Well, not with anyone, really, I just was hoping that someone could just, if you could, if you have a bit of extra rope, and maybe something heavy that you're not using, I would be very happy to take it off your hands.

And also, be careful, of course.

Mostly, please be careful.

Oh, also, does anyone know, if we lose powers, do doors still lock?

This place gives a whole new level of meaning to SITUATION NORMAL, ALL FUCKED UP.

[ if this were not a text post but rather audio or video, there would be a pause here as he chooses his words, but given that it is text, there is no lag. ] Looks like Petrelli's gone. [ the lack of specification as to which of the two petrelli brothers is deliberate, seeing how they're both gone, but he really means nathan. ]


RECON FILTER | 75% ENCRYPTION.
Check in. Especially you, Thomas.

[ The video feed begins on a room bathed in Christmas lights. Or at least in lights that are red and green; certainly there's no holiday cheer of any sort involved. It's not the steadiest feed, but it moves slowly as it sweeps across the space. A flashlight beam follows it, illuminating large tanks full of fluid. The color is difficult to make out, brown beneath the color filters of the lights. ]

This is Kate Bishop and the search team. [ Her voice is recognizable despite its hoarseness, and she speaks at a normal volume, no whispering. There are other voices in the background, and shadows shift as other people (members of the team, one hopes) move around the space. ] We believe we've found the source of the stasis fluid. It's a room sealed to Medical access at the end of a long corridor of supply closets leading away from the Medbay toward the center of the ship. The doors we've checked have been marked with red paint and should lead the way. [ You know, just in case they for some reason don't make it back. You never know around here. ] You'll know them when you see them because every one Sirius checked is marked with a dick.

ANYWAY as you can see, there are tanks. That fluid is blue, it looks like stasis fluid, the light's just weird in here. You can't see from here but there are pipes that lead toward the Medbay. More importantly [ She moves forward here, toward a bank of control consoles, and the light follows and sweeps across them. She names them in turn. ] Oxygen Management, Gravcouch Management, Nanite Management. We can access the system but it won't let us make any changes. What we can do is take the tubes of nanite fluid physically out of the system, but when we started to do that we got a bunch of errors. I think if we take them out the couches just won't fill at all at the jump. So we need to have a plan if we're doing that. Maybe bringing shit here is a better idea? I don't know how things're going in Medical, you'll have to let us know asap.

Anywa-- what? [ Another voice in the background has the video wheeling as Kate turns, and there's a queasy moment of dipping and spinning before she gets it focused again. In the frame now is a small cannister of the sort used in the Science Department. It is sitting on the floor next to the console. It is uncapped. Someone's finger Hook's hook points at it. ] We just found this next to the Nanite Management station. We'll get it back for testing since it's pretty damn suspicious.

[ Kate feels as miserable as most aboard but at the moment looks on the better side, pale and flushed at once, dark circles beneath her eyes, but seemingly in possession of all her hair and limbs and minus any conspicuous growths. She's sat on a bed in the passenger quarters, comm propped on the bureau near her head as she looks into it. Her voice is thick and hoarse. ]

So whatever this is is clearly only getting worse. I know people have been testing the food and water and air and seem to be coming up empty, and the only other thing I can think of that we've all been exposed to is the stasis fluid. The gravcouches have all been drained, so unless anybody has a sample lying around to test... I'm thinking we go find where it comes from. If we can find the source maybe we can figure out if it's been tampered with or infected and how to cure this.

[ She pauses to clear her throat, fingers pressed against her neck. They're even paler than the rest of her, grey-ish in comparison, a sickly purple around the nail beds. ]

If anyone wants to help, let me know. The more the better. Especially if you know more about those parts of the ship. I don't have departmental access to anything and there's a lot of this shithole to search especially if we keep getting locked in the elevators trying to get anywhere. [ Or getting sidelined by hideous mutations and unbearable pain, but that goes without saying. ]

[ The feed starts with static, thin and crackling. There's the trace of a voice coming through, short interrupted clips that eventually resolve into a steady and markedly sarcastic tone. ]

—ing in with the soporific discovery of yet another corridor that is very unexpectedly abandoned. And also not where it's meant to be on your bloody maps, by the way. You'd have better luck navigating Neverland.

I'd rather be navigating Neverland. [ Emma's scowled dismissal is easily distinguished in the background. ] I thought you said you knew how to do this? [ So much for trusting the pirate to know how to navigate. ]

Is this a pirate thing? [ Kate is going to make equally helpful contributions to this conversation, her tone dry. ] Inability to navigate except on water? Or did you get lost on your own ship, too?

Oh, I know how to navigate a ship—

Are you still broadcasting this? [ Reaching her hand out, Emma demands the device from him. ] Gimme that. [ A short wrestling match later, she wrestles it out of his hand. You can tell because she's louder. ] If you don't have anything to report, don't report it. [ With that flat scolding, she terminates the feed. ]

( ooc; Purple = Kate, red = Emma, black = Hook. This is open to all other fireteams and everyone back at the home base, threadjacking highly encouraged! )

[ The camera is met with an angry-looking Kate, one angle of her jaw flexing as teeth clench. Her forearms are folded on the tabletop in front of her and she leans her weight onto them. The way she launches right in gives the impression she's been holding back this bad mood for a while before giving in. ]

Okay, so first of all, whoever stole my bow at the jump: bring it back. It's a cheap piece of crap anyway and it's not like we have arrows laying around but it's the only one I have here and there aren't any more in the armory and it's not exactly an inconspicuous weapon so what are you even going to do with it without me finding you?? Seriously, just bring it back before you damage it somehow and I promise I won't hit you with it no matter how tempted I am.

And speaking of people around here being total assholes [ Because whatever, she's started now and trying to make her no-hitting promise sincere just has the frustration shunting off into another topic, ], is someone turning people into animals seriously allowed now? That's just a thing we're cool with, going to let that slide on by, no brig time involved? [ She's not generally a very animated speaker but her hands twist off the table into the air into a 'seriously?' gesture. ] FYI never annoy this Gold guy because I guess he can just turn you into a cat if he feels like it and nobody will ever do anything. If I disappear after posting this be on the look-out for new pets wandering around or something. On second thought maybe that'd be a nice change from this place's bullshit for a while. Gold, if you're watching, just make it a dog or a bird or something, alright? Cool.

[ It's hard to make a dramatic exit on a touch-screen device but she pushes the STOP button as abruptly as she can anyway. Hawkeye out. Nope, wait, spoke too soon. It starts up again after a second just long enough for her to shout: ]

And bring me back my god damn bow!

[ Okay, now it's done. ]

This is Shepard, formally Commander of the SSV Normandy. I've attached a written debrief on the results of the recon mission into the ship in addition to an updated schematic of the ship as it currently stands. I suggest any interested parties [and her tone seems to suggest that should mean all of you] take note and save a copy.

For anyone wondering: everyone still has their heads. Additionally we'll be running this again next month; if you want in, fill out the attached form. We need field operatives, people running communications and volunteers to help compile the gathered data into something useable for future jump cycles.

Shepard out.

[As promised, there are multiple attacked files. One is schematic of the area explored and while it's a significant chunk of space there's no denying that the uncharted territory surrounding it and the other known zones is potentially frighteningly large. There are a few markers on the schematic, the meaning of which quickly becomes evident to anyone reading the attached report:]

( AFTER ACTION REPORT )

( VOLUNTEER DOCUMENT )

((ooc: ooc information for both the may recon mission and the upcoming june mission (including sign-ups!) is located here.))

[When Emma had suggested making friends might help get her back to Henry, Regina had scoffed. But magic hasn't helped her, and she's running out of ideas.

Which is why she's currently sitting primly in the kitchen and with exactly as friendly a smile as she can muster up. It's more or less effective.]

I made some lasagna. There's a lot of it. I'd be willing to share, if anyone's hungry.

[People like food. Give them food and they'll like you, right?

Maybe she should have baked cookies or a pie instead.]

[ the feed switches on to show a spectacular view of the garden grounds. as in the actual floor of the gardens, mostly dirt and foliage, before it's flipped around to focus on hook's face. his expression is solemn, offering up a respectable display of sincere concern for those he's addressing. ]

This message is intended as a favour— an act of good faith, if you will. I regret to inform my fellow passengers that we've a wolf in our midst. [ the mask of civility slips slightly, giving way to a sharp grin; his voice matches, edged with hostility and amusement. ] Or should I say a crocodile.

There's a man on this ship who calls himself Rumplestiltskin. While I admit he's not much to look at, it's nothing more than the practised ruse of a monster. He's known to my world as The Dark One. Whatever kind words he's spun, any generosities he's offered— I assure you, they've been at your expense.

[ no killing allowed, but nobody said anything about gossip. anyway, after a pause to let that dramatic reveal that absolutely won't remind anyone of stupid picture books settle: ]

I've also heard word of a smithy on board. If anyone could direct me to it or to its owner, I'd be in your debt. [ there's a glint of light off the metal as he raises his hook, idly considering its condition. ] I've something in need of sharpening.

[ that last sentence would absolutely be a private taunt to gold if he knew how to encrypt anything, but he doesn't. blame emma. ]

( ooc: 4th walling on all related fairy tales/stories is welcome! )