Something happened.

[there's a moment's pause. It's taking a lot to make this post. More than he thinks he's capable of. But after all that happened with dean--]

During the recent…invasion.

[okay. Right. He needs to just get it out and deal with the fallout afterwards. His voice sounds more certain when he continues. As though he's simply reciting a few facts as opposed to potentially gaining a ship full of enemies.]

Those who have been here for some time are likely aware of the existence of a creature from my world called a Hellhound. They are invisible beasts capable or tearing souls from the bodies of the living in order take them to Hell.

A number of them arrived during the recent invasion. But without passage to Hell available to them, they deposited those souls in a place they considered safe. Here, that meant the room assigned to me.

[and that's…where it gets difficult again.]

Souls are one of the strongest sources of power in existence, and my Grace had been depleting for some time. I didn't…think. I—

[okay. Let's try this again.]

There are those here who people may have noticed have been behaving differently since the invasion. They may not be sleeping as much, or they may be capable of pushing their bodies further than they should. They may be less empathetic than they once were.

There is a possibility that they are a victim of this. If that is the case, their souls are with me.

I need to return them.

[another pause, and a final--]

…I'm sorry.

Maybe it's just that I've done a crap job checking in with people since I got back—sorry, still getting my space legs back under me—but I can't shake this feeling like we lose more and more people who were around at the beginning each time the ship jumps. I mean, how many people remember the Cyllene at this point? [ Her voice tightens, like she's trying to sort through a quick tally in her mind. ]

I know some people have been keeping archives and crunching data, but I'm starting to wonder how much information about what's going on here we've already lost. [ Huff. That's a depressing thought. ] Couldn't help noticing how empty the whole place feels while I was patrolling. Or maybe that feeling's because people haven't been migrating downwards with each new jump. Consider this your reminder: SEC only consistently sweeps levels one to ten.

[the feed opens on a shot of a half empty bottle of tranquility brand ~space whiskey. along with another empty bottle lying on its side beside it. to anyone familiar with the bars on the ship, it may be possible to recognize the fact that the feed is coming from the wrong side of the bar. that inside of being sat beside it, he's instead stood on the inside of the counter. (easier access to the alcohol. and considering there's no bartender, it made more sense to him. it did take an entire liquor store last time).]

Solpeth.

[…okay, whoops. there's a pause; time spent squinting down at the device. he's making a call to the network, so maybe it'd be a good idea if he laid off the "dead" languages. when he speaks again, there's a weight to his words that comes largely from having to focus so hard on what he's saying. on making sure that he's actually using the words he wants to use.]

There are games I have seen humans play before. Ones that involve drinking copious amounts of alcohol for amusement.

[there's another pause then. one that's only interrupted with the sound of a drink being poured in to a glass. far more than a single shot. it's gone moments later; swallowed easily, and with very little impact on his current state.]

Show me.

[what are manners? look, he has other priorities right now.]

[Video.]

Hi, I'm Takeshi; I was gone for a long time!

[Best way to re-introduce yourself: name, followed by exclamation of your absence. It seems legit.]

I didn't know, I swear, pinky promise; I woke up and it was all kinda different, but not that different. I, um, I dunno who left like me, so I wanted... I wanted t'see who was still here. I didn't say goodbye to anyone... and... it's really important to get to say bye. But at least I get to say hello again! Hello! [Wait no, we already did that. Been there done that. He smiles, a bit more confident.] If I never met you before, though, we should talk! It's good to know everyone here, that way you can be friends and help each other and be happier. And being happy is really important, and... I like having more friends. An' my brain is kinda fuzzy, because... I feel like I can't remember things as good...

Did everyone get friends yet? Make sure you're with your friends a lot. And don't be in the halls by yourself!

I learned that from before. The halls are bad. Baaaad news! Plus it's dark, and some people are scared of the dark.

[He puffs out his chest a bit.]

But not me!! M'not afraid of the dark, because it's not a real monster! There's bigger worster monsters anyway. But, um — [where was he going with this... ah, yes!] I have a list... It's a list of all my old friends! I dunno who came back and who stayed and who is gone, so... I copied the names. If people rec'nize them, lemme know! Cuz a lot of them were gone, but maybe they came back...

[They're important names. They're some of his friends — you gotta' look out for your friends.]

[TEXT]

kazama
casTiel
frodo
betty
mattie
dean
reapEr
edgeworth
nathann
robb
seraphIM
rIver
Roy
CID
yorkk

[IT WAS A NICE ATTEMPT. Too bad most of them have left, but you can't blame a kid for trying.]

[Those that have met Jack Harkness before on any one of the thirty-seven jumps that he's inhabited the ship may be surprised by his appearance on camera in this moment. He looks haggard. Like he hasn't slept in days - which he hasn't. More days than even he should be able to stretch things. He'd been doing so well, before. They'd all been doing so well. He had let himself relax. He had been starting to make friends, at last. He had let himself be deluded into thinking that he might be able to be happy, here. That this might be permanent, and that he was okay with that.

It's enough to make him want to cry, in retrospect.]

Ianto Jones. Has anyone heard from him, after the... After everything calmed down? He's not answering his comms. It's not like him to just. Disappear.

[Best case scenario is that he's lost. Jack has been looking, as best he can on his own, for every day he can, since it became clear that he was missing, hence the lack of sleep. But one man can only do so much out there. Worst case scenario is... Hell, even best-case scenario isn't good. If he's lost, he's stuck down there, and there's a jump coming up. Jack's trying hard not to think about it, but. The closer it gets, the more it weighs on him.]

[he's in the middle of the upper floor of the gardens when he finally decides to contact the network; the area chosen because it's one of the few places he can find solace in. can find time to get his head back in order again and think of his next step.

(too many people are affected. too many people are being hurt.

he almost killed--)

the feed opens on a somewhat disheveled looking castiel, his expression deadly serious as he addresses whoever is listening.]

As I am sure you're all aware, there is a...situation currently taking place aboard this ship. Those of you who have not done so already would to well to keep yourselves locked away from the affected at this time. If you require assistance, speak with Sergeant Brad Colbert. To those injured, the medical facilities are still open.

[a pause, and that certainty wanes a little. he has a proposition, but--]

There may be a way to stop this.

[emphasis on the may.]

The affected individuals are in a state similar to sleep, but not quite. They are...dreaming, in a way. There are three of us here who are capable of entering the dreams of others. However, while I was able to enter one such dream, I was unable to affect anything that was occurring within it.

I...don't know if it is due to what is happening to them or not.

[or if it's simply because he isn't strong enough. not with his grace draining by the day.]

If anybody has any suggestions, please, state them now.

[and then that's it. or at least as far as the ship-wide transmission. too bad be doesn't actually know his brothers' numbers to lock something to them. so after a moment of hesitation--]

Gabriel. [and a tightening of his jaw as he adds--] Lucifer.

I-- Your assistance would be beneficial.

[ Simon comes into view unsmiling and still, standing framed by one of the unadorned walls of his room. ]

Those of you who aren't human. Or are more than only human. If you lie low, or pass, or hide—why? [ He's quiet, with an Irish accent and a cadence that's steady verging on mumbly, and intently focused. He's not uncomfortable, not fidgety or uncertain, but he isn't quite at ease, either, in front of a camera. He's only using video to make a display of his bloodless face and white eyes. ] Has something happened to you here? Or is it a habit you've carried from home?

We may not be in the minority, altogether.

[ That's less threatening than we could outnumber them, right? Right.

That's also the end of what he'd planned to say ahead of time; he shifts back from the screen, looks aside, and nearly disconnects before more occurs to him. ]

If you want to talk and don't trust this to stay private, I'm in room two hundred on the third floor. You can... [ Leave a note, he almost said, but he's yet to see paper or pens. He raises his eyebrows like a shrug. ] Paint your answer on the wall.

Or knock. I'll be here.

I've got some weed that needs growing: it's special, you might even call it magical, and it takes a delicate hand to grow.

[ The clinking of glass rings through the speakers, before the video snaps on, broadcasting Amory, mussed up hair and an inebriated gleam to his eyes. He tops off a glass of scotch, before addressing the camera. ]

You'd think growing up on a vineyard, I would've learn how to grow something— but then again, that's why we hired help.

And that's why I'm looking for an elf.

You guys have that Disney princess thing going on, right? Best friends with animals, flowers, bugs, other tiny, pathetic creatures. Think one of you can sing my weed to grow?

A fairy might work too.

[ Is this a joke, or is Amory being serious and vaguely racist... who knows. Or maybe he does. ]

[ dean doesn't look happy when the feed turns on. unlike before, that hint of smugness isn't present either, as it's all down to business seriousness today. he looks tired, a little ruffled you could say-- like someone who hasn't really seen any rest.

and it holds true enough, too. there's no time for resting when you're searching, worrying. ]

There isn't a day on this ship when somebody ain't missing, is there? [ despite the conversational words, his voice lacks anything inviting. he has his favorite gun in his hands, is reloading it with a new magazine, and tossing it into a small bag filled with a few things.

looks like he's going somewhere, and it won't be just a quick trip either. ]

If anyone sees Jo Harvelle, keep her safe and lem'me know. Starting to look like she's been missin' for a few days now… [ he cocks the gun experimentally before flipping the safety back on and tucking it away. ] …which means it's time for a little search and rescue.

SEC, I guess this means I'm taken' a few days off from patrollin' and whatever.

[ a hint in his tone suggests that if that's a problem, keep it to yourself. ]

I'll be back before the jump with her.

[ or he'll try to be. if he isn't… well, that'll be the end of yet another winchester. ]

-- Well, well. Guess that's what they call a silver linin'...

[ Benny shuts the lid of his small, personal cooler and manages to dangle that off a few fingers while holding what appears to be a wicked looking, makeshift axe... lashed together with some kind of cured skin, a massive bone of some unidentifiable origin and blades of what looks like obsidian, only of a dusty, almost metallic sheen. He's already put on his uniform, that being the first thing available to him that was clean. The navy blue cap of wool, however, he wears... and slips on his matching jacket to boot. It's... more black than he cares for, but that's what he gets for dressing before picking through all his belongings. Can you blame him? Who likes waking up in their skivvies in a tube with some kind of breathing apparatus jammed down your throat?

He's calmer than he was the moments after he woke up, not that anyone can tell that just moments earlier he'd had his mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs and was roaring for a girl no one likely even knew about here. He's had plenty of time in Purgatory to learn how to cool off, and the true meaning of 'cooler heads prevail'. That said, he raises a brow at the device, grasping it's use about as easily as he'd learned to use a cellphone... his Louisiana creole drawl betraying nothing of his alarm: ]

So, should I bother askin' what I'm in for? I figure I'm being charged with something, given the circumstances.

[when he flips the feed on, it's to a shot of him sat on the floor in the middle of an empty room, walls covered in sigils. there's only one person around who knows where that room is, and he trusts her not to tell anyone. there's a reason he wants the solitude it provides for this message.

on the floor in front of him is the game sorry!, the board already laid out and cards in place. the pawns however, are all largely gathered together. blue (minus one pawn), yellow, green; all placed on the red start location. the red pieces are scattered across the board; one on the spot directly outside the start, one on the first square of the safety zone, one on top of the pile of cards. the last is still in his hands, along with the missing blue pawn. it's where his gaze sits when he starts talking.]

With all that's happening on this ship-

[a sigh. okay, he needs to focus on what he's trying to say here.]

Last time I made a mistake by not…asking other people for their opinions. [be proud, tyke? he can at least admit he was wrong before.]

I can't do that again. But I want to help, and I can't just keep-

[he places the fourth blue piece down with the group of pawns, purposely putting it to the back.]

Games are simple. They have rules to follow, and as long as you stick to them, things won't go wrong. You can win or lose, but the purpose of the game is for you to have fun with those you're playing with.

[the red pawn gets put down now, directly in the middle of the board.]

This ship…doesn't work the same way. There aren't a clearly defined set of rules, and people try to break the original ones all the time. [smiley. the manticores. ward and resnik. a pawn for each of the known groups. a last for whatever else is still out there.]

It isn't a game here, but there are still players involved. There have already been sacrifices made. People…keep dying, and there's little we can do to stop it. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.

[that blue piece gets moved now; pushed toward the front so it can be picked out first. maybe that's the real reason he was sent to this ship. maybe this is his new purgatory.]

I want to, but I don't know how.