[The moment the feed turns on Chuck can be seen in one very specific kitchen of Tranquility version of The Pie hole, at least for people familiar with it which she figures aren't many people lately with how people coming and going, hence this very special announcement!]

You know, I think it's been a while since I addressed the network like this but I figured now was a good time as any since the jump is over, so hi! [Chuck smiles brightly, waving briefly at the feed]

If we haven't or spoken before, my name is Chuck and well the reason for this is well— this is the Pie Hole, the space edition. [She glances backwards panning the video feed so that everyone gets a look at the place, the pies on the counter clearly visible before she turns it back to herself] My boyfriend Ned, he was the one who set this up several months ago and though he's been gone, I've been keeping up with it here too since it was kind of like home away from home— which okay, I know it's pretty cheesy but I helped him with his pieshop back home too.

I knew that some people already knew about but with people coming and going every jump, I figured I would spread the word a little for anyone interested. We're located just adjacent to the Oxygen Gardens so it's hard to miss. Anyone is welcome to drop by or even contact me and leave a request if you want something in the form of a personal delivery.

Speaking of which, here's a question for everyone: What is your favourite flavor of pie? I feel like the menu could use a few more options and I'm curious if you have a preference for any particular kind.

[When Jack appears in front of the camera, he's all charm and charisma. These shared memory events haven't dampened his spirits too much. Even if the cat's definitely out of the bag to a few more of his fellow passengers than he would like, as far as his mortality is concerned. He sits forward, arms crossed in front of him, eyes focused on the camera, and he smiles, but there's a hard glint to it. Something's on his mind.]

Some of us are new here. Some of us have been here a long time. [He raises his arm and the number SEC-001-003 can be seen, for a brief moment.] Some of us have seen manticores and shadow people, malfunctioning space stations, black holes, space pirates, space sickness, mazes and never-ending corridors, hive-mind space colonists who tried to make us assimilate. We've been put on lists, given god knows how many riddles by Smiley, and don't even get me started on those masks. And then most recently the shared memories and the dreams. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong but I think the only non-horrible stop we ever made was the first, way the hell back at the Tansei station.

[He leans forward, his grin becoming more grim, his eyes more intent on the camera as he continues:] So we've got another jump coming up. Anybody wanna hazard a guess what's coming next? Welcoming all thoughts, theories, dreams, or desires, seeing as we really haven't got a clue, unless you know something I don't.

You know what? This is really silly.

And I'm really sick and tired of all this hiding and lying to people; I'm not even that good at it. And for what? On the off chance that, out of all the people dragged here from all over the multiverse from different planets and points in time, one of them is going to be a religious nutjob with the intent to kill me?

No. You know what? I'm more powerful that some guy who believe's he's doing "God's work" by killing innocent teenagers. I don't need to live in fear of-- of someone finding out, of all these memory shenanigans, of... bigots.

Peeps of the Tranquility:

My name is Cassie Blake, and I'm a witch. A full-blooded, hundred-percent witch. [The corner of her mouth tweaks upwards, like she finds something about that sentence funny.]

I like to think I'm a pretty peaceful person, you know? I don't like fighting. But if there's anyone here who has a problem with my evil witchiness, well, you can find me on level 20, room 5. Bring it.

Otherwise, peace out.

[rikku is slouched over her work table, which is actually just two bureaus shoved together and covered in tools and various bits and pieces of metal and paper. the comm itself is propped up against one of those random bits of metal, and has turned on thanks to a stray screwdriver bumping into it. rikku herself is wearing her jumpsuit--well, half of it. it's unzipped and pooled at her waist--she's just got her bikini top on beneath it, along with a pair of goggles over her eyes. for safety.

a couple of spheres (five, to be exact) are rolling around on the table, glowing faintly. she pays no mind to them except when one gets a little too close to the edge of the table--then she gently nudges it back with whatever happens to be in her hand.

she is currently prodding at some sort of device, round and flat and about the size of a medium plate. there are round recesses carved into it, along with a strange design. the skeleton of a small machine is where she directs her words:]

Alrighty, I think I've got it this time. If it works, we're back in business, little buddy.

[she sits up, shoving the goggles away from her face to inspect her work. she grabs a soldering gun, makes a last-minute fix, and then stands, biting her lip a bit, clipping the device to her belt.]

Here goes nothing. Or something. Hopefully a lot of something.

[she closes her eyes and, for a moment, it doesn't seem like anything will happen. then there's a low hum, growing louder by the second. she grins for a brief second, and suddenly panic appears on her face. there's a loud zap sound, she yelps, jumping and lurching into the desk. the comm falls over, focusing on a worn-out piece of paper. rikku herself is not happy.]

Shiva's freezing tits, what now! Sheesh, can't a girl catch a break with anything?

[she's scrabbling around on the desk again, and notices that the comm is on. she picks it up with one hand, rubbing at her forehead with the other.]

So, uh. Man, this shouldn't surprise me anymore. It always happens when I blow something up. Anyway, anybody know much about machina? Or magic. Or both! Both would be good.

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. ]

[the feed turns on and chuck is briefly out of frame for a moment as the view focuses on a collection of cup pies sitting on the kitchen counter in a variety of flavors before it turns back to her]

Been a while since I made these but they look good, right? [she just smiles, looking fairly chipper as she continues talking] They're cup pies. Single serving of pie with a honey baked crust.

I have been working with the bees on the upper floors of the oxygen gardens for the last several jumps but just yesterday I was able to harvest most of their honey so I thought I'd put it to some good use.

Though between both these cup pies and the honey, I have quite a lot here actually so if anyone is interested? Just let me know or you can meet me in the kitchens on the fifth floor.

Soooo... hey. I'm Sam. You guys probably met me before - I've lost a few years, and, uh. I guess I don't remember the last few trips here. So if anybody'd like to fill me in about - whatever the hell I did around here, I'd love to refresh my memory.

[Not that he could, either way. He's a babyface (who still looks a bit like he got into a barfight).]

Actually, I wanted to ask - anybody got any useful books? Outside of this place, I mean. Anything with actual - information. Nonfiction stuff, old age books, whatever.
 
[It's been about a week since Sam got aboard the ship, and really, he's mostly been trying to find anything to occupy his time in the library. Yeah, yeah, he's a nerd or whatever; Dean's probably said anything you could say about his bookworm stuff. But he's not too content with the selection, and as he's scanning through the holographic consoles; the green-glow plays off his face as he sighs, leaning back to talk to the comm. Hi everyone, I'm a moose, how's it going.]

 I'm not really finding anything remotely helpful here - not much of a surprise, considering everything else I've read on the network about this place... [He squints up at the hologram, shaking his head.] A ship like this without anything helpful in the library? I guess everyone's pretty much already guessed something got rid of anything important here. Now all you've got is...

[what the hell is this - he half-laughs, throughly amused and repulsed as he reads the passage aloud]

"Captain Haroldo set his phasers to love as the exotic alien princess ran her hands down his glistening abs..."

[He trails off, and whatever he reads in his head after that is clearly beautiful enough to make him laugh aloud.]



Dude, gross. Look, Dean, this stuff was practically made for you. 

[:)))))]

[Not much later, he includes a quick little encryption - it was kinda interesting, to mess with. Go technology. More importantly... there's someone he wants to - meet? Re-meet? He's not even sure what to call it, but he knows that it's better to have a chat sooner than later.]

[To Jo Harvelle // Encrypted 50%]

Hey, uh... I hope I'm doing this right.

Jo?

Has anyone seen Beard-Me?

[




...
Pie Maker, that's not fair. You're not permitted for long pauses and pouty looks with those eyebrows. They just might crawl away and hide in a hole. ] I'm taking that uncomfortable silence as a 'no,' I don't think that ever means 'yes.'

[ Another pause, but he quickly catches with the stillness of it. He clears his throat. ] Say, knock knock...

[ Maybe a joke will help. ]

[ The feed opens to Rapunzel's room. However, it's not your ordinary Tranquility room! instead, the walls are filled with paintings. all done in warm colors, greens and yellows and reds, all inspired by Rapunzel's original room. there are star charts painted on the ceiling and the walls are covered in flowers, images of Rapunzel herself and even Pascal.

Currently, the girl herself is doing some finishing touches to one of the largest paintings in the room. it's just near the ceiling but a good thing Rapunzel has hair long enough to hang on.

It's Pascal that turned on the feed and he hops on the device. that seems to catch her attention and she jumps down, landing easily and lifting it up ]

Hi, Tranquility.

I was sorta wondering. This ship, while filled with...surprisingly nice people doesn't look too much like a home. Maybe it's just me but I sort of feel....cold here, I guess? hah, I don't mean physically but just --

anyway I was wondering if anyone would like me to paint something. For their rooms! While I do have many ways to keep myself busy, I like painting and I think it'll be nice to help more people feel at home and I can paint nearly anything you'd like.

Um, I also have been trying to learn more about this space thing in the media library and it's really been great. But what I'd really like to learn is stuff about um. the outside world! You know, and since most of you have probably been to the outside world, I wonder if you could tell me about it.

Oh! and um. I would also like to learn how to send a message to only one person on the magic box! If anyone could help with that, that too would be great and until then, um!

Jenna? Sommers? I sorta have a thing. for you. um. that is it! thank you!

Just in case anyone was wondering, I didn't grow a beard and I didn't acquire an alarming amount of sass.

[ That's a good way to start, Ned. ]

Face-alikes are as common as common can get around here, but I'm not one for big jokes. If the beard isn't a reliable tell, let it be his jokes. Here's a joke: Why did the chicken cross the road? [ Wait for it, wait for itttt... ] Not sure, I don't eat chicken.

PSA done, Pie Maker out.

[ Hi, Tranquility. Ryan Newman is, well, new here, and he has an important question for you. No, it's not 'why am i here' or 'are you guys sure i'm not incredibly high right now'. And although it's kind of bugging him a lot, he's not going to ask why he keeps getting these weird looks and questions about his height. He's question is much more serious than any of that.

He looks a little uncomfortable, even a bit nervous. Ryan's not one for posting his face for...what, two-hundred some people to see? This is seriously pushing his comfort buttons, but this is an important question. It's for the sake of his sanity (and i mean that literally). ]

Has anyone seen a dog?

[ Yeah, if you've run into Ryan before, you may have heard this question already. ] He's...big. Gray. Middle aged. Kind of mangy? He goes by the name of Wilfred.

If anyone's seen him at all...can you let me know?

Hey T-Q, how's it going? [ the video feed begins, but the girl speaking isn't immediately visible. instead, you're treated at first to what looks like the corner of her desk, and the straps of what you can guess might be her mask. one that remains safely offscreen. ] Anyway I don't wanna get too chatty, so lemme just run us right up to our next calendar- [ which is exactly what pops up a beat later. ]



Bah-dah!
Alright, lemme break it down here.

Someother-tember the 8th is Wolf's Day! Apparently celebrated by, and I quote, [ is she joking? it's hard to tell. ] throwing sticks, rolling around, and biting for fun. Also eating. There's supposed to be eating.

Someother-tember the 12th back by popular demand, is Slap a Lawyer on the Ass day. I'm not gonna question anybody's taste, okay? It's space, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Someother-tember the 23rd &24th for you lushes is Nog Day- which out of the mercy of my heart has stretched to encompass the next day, to nurse your hangovers and mope generally about how much this place sucks and you aren't at home. And probably drink more because hey, why not, you know?

Someother-tember the 25th is Sinterklaas, where you can throw your amalgamation of miscellaneous holidays together into one massive whole.

Then last but not least, Someother-tember the 29th is Awkwardly hug a Josh Day which is pretty self explanatory, in my opinion.

I'm toying with the idea of next month having a pin the nametag on the squinty-eyes [ she may be referring to the plethora of Joseph Gordon Levitt faces, but you know, she isn't elaborating, so take that as you will ] and probably a sad, sad belated new year's party for all the oldbies kicking around- but you know, if I put like all those holidays on here it pretty much just would've been one giant month of getting drunk for faintly justifiable reasons. Blah blah insert too much of a good thing proverb here. Anyway.

That's it for me! Have at it!

[ Well, hey TQ, hope you don't mind this fresh face on the network. She normally sticks to texting because if it looks like a phone and acts like a (kind of sci-fi upgraded) phone, why not use it like one? But she's been going through the other features — slow day on the ship, you know how it is — and after rifling through everything she can easily find on the communicator, she decides to post up a video.

So here's a young, teenaged girl setting the comm in front of her before she sits down cross-legged and twirls a lock of her hair. Alas, it's got less of a bounce than it normally does, but that's what lack of hot rollers on a ship will do. ]

If I write my best essay and promise to stay on my best behavior after, am I allowed to leave Space Detention? I mean, I haven't even gotten to mess around in a library, so this kind of blows.

[ she smiles because she's kind of hoping someone will catch the reference. If not, then well: ] Or are we all waiting for some big, space musical number?

Are there even any boomboxes to hold up outside that red smiley thing's window? If it has one. [ seriously, what is up with that thing. ] Also, I guess it'd have to be this phone thing, since I don't have an iPod anymore.

[ She lets out a very put upon sigh before admitting something you never would have guessed!! clearly!! But it's followed by a smile that's all teeth and too much eyelash batting. ]

Okay, so I'm bored. And I can't really miss anyone who left, since I just got here. [ not even touching whatever's up with the masks. ] You'd think the aliens would be able to hook us up with better movie selections or something.

I don't suppose there's someone on here with something entertaining to do?

-Oh no.

[The video is washed out, too bright underneath the generic lighting of the even more generic passenger's quarters. Merlin's face slowly eclipses it, eyes wide and a little concerned. With a little trial and error, he's managed to master the device's functions faster than a medieval boy probably has a right to. But technology hasn't come up with an answer for clumsiness. Yet.]

All right?

[Merlin picks the communicator up, sighing in relief before he starts to grin.]

Are we really up there? Up in the stars, I mean. I know everyone keeps saying it, it's just hard to imagine. To think that a servant could be among the stars. I really used to look up to them.

[Merlin presses his lips together, quite possibly the only person amused by that. Arthur's always told him that he shouldn't try to be funny. This would be why.]

Has anyone ever been up here before? Do you think if we stepped outside the ship, it would be like falling out of a tree? Except that there are no trees in space, because there isn't any dirt.

Which makes me wonder...where do we get the apples?

[Merlin finally has the decency to look sheepish about his ramblings and odd questions.]

Sorry. And I've already heard about there being no air and space radiation, so I won't actually be trying to get out there. My guardian just always wanted me to take more of an interest in science. I guess this was one way of doing it.

[Merlin glances off-screen, and there's a hesitance with his last question that the others was lacking.]

Uhm, it is science, isn't it? And not magic?

[ there's the sound of a direwolf howling, unapologetic in his grief, and even the soft hushing murmur that comes after doesn't quite temper it, only reduces it to a low keening whine. there's a pause that stretches, and robb clears his throat more than once, trying to find the words. when he does speak he sounds tired, anger burning slow and hot under exhaustion but finally, finally, he speaks. ]

The lady Sansa Stark, who many called Alayne Stone, has gone.

[ there's a breath, as if robb means to say more, but instead he simply cuts the feed. ]

[ 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.

— it should be on now. You know, I think this is the first time I’ve tried talking to the network like this since I got here but anyway, not the point. I guess we should start with introductions, huh?

Hello Tranquility! My name is Chuck [ She waves at first, still smiling before she turns the screen so a certain someone can be seen beside her ] and this is Ned.

[ “And this is Ned—” Well, he’s slightly distracted with that dream-like smile towards Chuck, shattered once he glances towards the screen. Lost. ]

Oh, right. Some of us have spoken before annnnddd... [ Looking back to Chuck. And? ]

This is probably a good a time as any to bring this up since the jump is over and we have some new people here, so I was thinking maybe if there are people interested we could try starting up a club of sorts?

[ Ned abruptly leans forward, standing on his toes. His turn, his turn! ]

Right, “a club of sorts” for... pets. Companions. Whatever is considered “socially acceptable.” [ A bark can be heard from Digby. ] Friends.

Yes, exactly— after all, there seem to be quite a few of us already so it could be something fun to do. There could even be activities or other things like that.

So, there you go. Tranquility for the Tranquility. Just something to pass the time. Maybe a normal thing every month? After jumps.[ Pause. ] You know jumps, fun stuff.

[ She looks over at Ned affectionately before she nods ] That’s about it, I think. Let us know your thoughts on it?

Anything. Anything at all. [ He’s looking back. ] Yeah.

[ Okay, enough with the odd couple staring. The feed ends. ]

[ooc; Chuck and Ned, both will be responding ]

[The girl who opens up the video feed looks surprisingly cheerful, given the circumstances of her recent arrival. Her hair is down and framing her face, and she offers a warm smile to the camera, as well as a little wave.] Hi, there. Name's Kaylee. I guess I'm gonna be stuck here for a spell, and a couple people told me I should be joining engineering. I've never seen a ship like this, but I'm a mechanic. Been working with engines practically my whole life.

And Carolyn said you might want some help getting some more shuttles running?

[She pauses, and glances around behind her for a moment.] Also, me and Lucrezia were talking - anybody got some paint? This place could use some more cheeriness. Maybe some flowers, you know? I like flowers.

[Ianto is in the oxygen gardens, cooing softly at a pteranodon in Welsh. It's taller than he is, and its wingspan is huge as it spreads them wide to keep its balance as Ianto tosses what appears to be a piece of chocolate into the air. The pteranodon waits for him to do so before snatching the treat mid-air with its long beak and gulping it down happily. Inquisitively, it steps closer when there appears to be no more on its way, and Ianto pats her on the beak before addressing the communicator.]

Right, hi. Ah, some of you probably saw Doctor Ross's discovery of the dinosaur last night. She's actually a female pteranodon named Myfanwy. [He pronounces this Mee-vahn-wee, more or less. Welsh, go figure.] We kept her at my workplace back home, and I was mostly the one responsible for taking care of her. While she's not precisely tame, I can promise she isn't going to hurt anyone unprovoked.

[Myfanwy nudges at Ianto with her beak insistently, and Ianto pauses to stroke a hand between her wide-set eyes and murmur that he doesn't have any more. Clearly understanding the sentiment of the statement, if not the language, she comes as close to pouting as is possible for a dinosaur, making an irritated sound in her throat and rustling her wings.]

She likes chocolate, as you can see, so it's probably best not to go wandering about the oxygen garden with chocolate in your pockets. I can't be billed for drycleaning here. And it's probably best to keep any house pets out of the garden as well.

[He looks a bit sheepish at that.]

We taught her only to eat fish and anything we covered in a special barbecue sauce, but we don't have either here. We're having to resort to feeding her things from the kitchens, so it's lucky she doesn't eat much more than your average person. Unfortunately, we never did manage to break her of the habit of going after cats and small dogs, and the occasional flock of sheep. Retraining is always a hassle, so we don't want to tempt her.

[Clearly bored of the attention now that the chocolate has run dry, Myfanwy allows Ianto to pet her a few more moments before shuffling backwards and spreading her wings. With two powerful beats, she's airborne and flying away.]

Anyway, if you see her in the rafters somewhere, please don't shoot her, or throw things at her, or scream and run. She's perfectly content to ignore you unless Jack or I introduce you to her.