[After a lot of thought she's decided against video, because she still doesn't like talking and wants to get her point across without messing it up]

My name is Chell. I'm one of the few people left that worked in Agriculture on the ship.

Looking for people to help in the new gardens. You don't need to know anything about farming or growing food, just have to be willing to listen to instructions and help out.

If you do have experience, that would be great.

If you have any questions leave them here or come looking for the woman in the orange jumpsuit.

Thank you

[It takes a lot of days for Takeshi to feel brave enough to put something on the network. He's almost done it a few times before, but he was scared — scared and sad and not sure what to do, what to expect of the future. His mom is hurt so bad in the heart (and for really real, she hurt herself on the hip, and he needs to make sure she doesn't strain herself. But it's scary. It's scary when her mom reminds him of how his old mom had first started: sad, disconnected, sleeping lots and just doing whatever people needed her to do. 

It's so, so scary. But Dad's gone, and they need to try to survive, because that's what Netherlands would have wanted from them. To keep living and trying to be happy. When Takeshi feels like crying, he reads the Miffy book in his room and goes to another place for a little bit. He imagines what Heder and Ned would look like as rabbit people, sometimes, and it makes him feel better a little. 

Now's a good time, though. He gives the camera a small, nervous smile and then takes a deep breath.]

My Da — Um, Mr... Mr. Netherlands, he... went home. [He looks down, fidgeting with something off-screen.] I know he woulda' wanted us to keep taking care of things, and when he's gone it's harder to make sure the garden's okay, so if... if people are good at agr-a-culter, you should come be a part of the — the team! We're a good team. We'd get a lot of points in a game. Even though we're all sad, because we loved Dad a lot... he's okay. He's just... not here. He's prob'ly got real important stuff to do at home, too. He's always real busy here, so I think he's busy there, too. He's probably making all kinds of faces where he is, 'cus nothing's getting done jus' right. 

[He sniffs hard, but he keeps his eyes dry and clear.]

M'sorry I only got bad news. 

[Quiet for a moment, his expression brightens a fraction, and he rubs his nose before he lifts up a small wooden dragon, carefully sculpted.]

This is Mattie. She's a dragon Dad made. She was bad before, but then —

[He holds up a fair maiden sort, sculpted with a lovely dress.]

Miss Princess Reika trained her to do good. And now they fly together a lot...

[He drifts off, smile fading a lot.

I love you, Dad.]

It's good, to work together. It's nice to be friends. We're all a team. So — it's up to us to do good things, for people who leave, who worked really hard! And loved us so so much, so much they say they love you, even if they never use those words 'cus it makes them feel weird. So we should do real great things and keep working like they did. 

[He smiles and nods. Keep smiling, he thinks.]

If you see my Mom — Heder — say hi to her, 'cus she's hurting, too. 

.... That's all.

[Disconnected.]

Hello? I hope this is working... I'm never really sure.

[ Elizabeth, looking much more cheerful than during her last broadcast, smiles brightly for the camera. ]

Well! I've been having some strange headaches lately, so I thought it might help to focus my attentions on something. I was given a few things from home in my locker after the last Jump and put them to good use.

[ Voilà! She reveals a painting. Elizabeth beams at it as she turns from the camera, then chews thoughtfully on her lip as if looking to fault it. ]

I only had red, so it isn't as... vivid as I might have liked, but I'm hoping that the next Jump will have a few more colors. [ She huffs shortly, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. ] If anyone else has any art supplies and wouldn't mind sharing, please let me know! It seems a little morbid, almost, just using black and red.

And... I can do some sketches or paintings for anyone, if there are any requests. I'm far from any kind of proficiency, but it does help to take my mind off of things.


[ private to Booker DeWitt ]

Where are you? You are on this floor and I wanted to show you something!


[ private to Murphy Pendleton ]

I wanted to apologize for-- well, everything. You know. [ She flushes, clearly fretting. ] I can't tell you how... mortified I am.

[There’s a little shuffling and confusion as the camera is adjusted to just the right angle. A frowning face takes the place of the blurred hand that blocked the lens a moment ago and Tadashi fiddles with the feed a moment more before stepping back.

He hesitates, then pulls a baseball cap onto his head after running his hand back through his hair.

There. Everything is settled. Tadashi tugs a lopsided smile into place, but his expression is still thoughtful.]

This is Tadashi Hamada speaking.

[Another hesitation. He runs one hand over his face.]

My brother and I have been on board this... this ship for a few days now. I haven’t met many of you in person yet, so I wanted to go ahead and introduce myself. I'm taking the time to go through all of the information that's been provided and I'm still working on getting my bearings, but I just wanted to say that I'm willing to help out wherever I'm needed for now.

Back home I was a student of robotics. I was working with AI systems as well. If that's of any use to anyone, please don't hesitate to call on me.

[Tadashi offers something of a half smile, reaches forward, then disconnects the feed.]

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.

People disappear a lot here. Anyone who's been here more than two jumps knows that by now. That there's no predicting the comings and goings.

[Nothing new so far. As he said.]

But what really bothers me is... it bothers me less, now. This is the third time, with Luke. I think that I might actually be getting used to it.

[And that's actually quite horrifying.]

[ At first there's no one visible on the feed at all - just a bad shakycam-esque view of a bar, the hand holding the device wavering badly. Empty or half-empty bottles are littered on the bar, and a photograph is propped up carefully against one of the empties. Eventually, the device's owner manages to figure it out, the camera view changing to show his face.

It's a wonder that the man is able to operate the comm device at all. He’s a mess; though he’s wearing the standard crew jumper, his hair is mussed and unwashed, and there are dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. More than that, though, is the fact that he's dead drunk - and he's clearly not a happy drunk. He's a big man, muscular, and the lines of his body are tense and hard, his expression just this side of angry.

This is not someone you want to meet in a dark alley, inebriated or no.

He focuses as best he can on the screen, scowling. It's difficult to operate, the tiny icons hard to pinpoint with his fingers. (He may have accidentally sent a few private and totally incomprehensible messages before managing to access the main network. Sorry about that.) ]

Gotta find her.

[ Right, the network...Booker's still not 100% sure about this thing. There's no wires hooked up to it, nothing to show how it's connected to anything at all, but hey, he's seen stranger stuff in the past week.

Might as well give it a shot. ]

Looking for a girl.

[ He smiles suddenly, all teeth and glittering eyes, and then laughs, dark and bitter. ]

Not gonna find her, though. She ain't here. She's back in the city, with him.

[ His face twists into an ugly expression, and he tightens his hand on his current bottle, lifting it to down half of it in one go. ]

But what the hell - I'm here, ain't I? Can't do much else but ask. So here's the deal. Anyone here knows where to find Elizabeth Comstock, you let me know.

I'll make it worth your while.

[This is the first time Dorian's used this strange device of his to broadcast, though he arrived during the jump before this one. Best to be sure of what you're doing, to take care and try things out so you don't look like a fool. There's also no reason to speak to the group unless you have something important to bring up.

And oh, he does.]

As I remain here, I've gotten more and more concerned. Upon arrival, it was easy to ignore, as there were so many things to get used to, but I'm afraid I can no longer continue to stay silent.

[Dorian holds up the jumpsuit he found in his locker when he woke here. There were his mage robes as well, luckily, which is what he's wearing now - and perhaps that explains the look of disgust on his face.]

It's a travesty that some of you choose to wear this. It's so dull - no colors, no fine fabrics, no accents at all. Is there truly nowhere to procure decent clothing onboard this space ship?

[He says 'space ship' carefully, the unfamiliarity of the words sitting strangely in his mouth.]

I desperately need to be directed to a tailor. There must be other options. This simply cannot be borne.

[ There's a muffled fumbling sound, followed by some tapping on the communicator to check that it's working. Having never used anything remotely technologically advanced beyond a clunky walkman that plays cassette tapes, she's still trying to get a handle on how these things work. ]

Jeez. [ Muttering. ] How the fuck do I even-- [ Some more experimental tapping. ] --Oh. Wait. I think I got it.

[ She's got it to her ear now. There's a nervous pause as she listens for any sign of… something. Uh. Maybe she should just talk and hope someone talks back. ]

Um. [ Fuck. Think of something to say, Ellie. ] Sooooo. Stuck on a giant creepy spaceship. Great. That's a first. Oooor… apparently not, because apparently I've been here before? Which, y'know. That's totally not creepy at all or anything. Though, guess it would've been nice to have had a liiiiittle bit of a heads up about that when I was spat outta that blue gunk stuff? Whatever the hell that shit was? Someone to tell me something like, jeez, I dunno, "Hey, little girl, just so you know, you're on a giant fucking spaceship, which you've totally been on before, try not to freak out". Or, "Hey, sooo here's how you work this… phone… thing… which I can tell you've never used before, even though you apparently have and just can't remember it". Ooooor, "Hey, just a heads up that you've been kidnapped - …uhhh, again? …I guess? - aaaand you're gonna be stuck here for the next however long leaping through wormholes and other comic book shit you're probably not gonna understand, have a nice fucking day".

[ She's rambling. Nervous. Trying not to come across as nervous. Probably failing. ]

Soooo, I guess, on that note? Anyone wanna fill me in on what the hell I was doing the last time I was apparently here? Or… [ A pause. The thought of other people like that Marty guy telling her they know her sends a chill down her spine. Makes her feel reeaalll unsafe and out of control. She's doing fine enough as it is with feeling unsafe and out of control without a bunch of strangers talking to her like they know her making it even worse. ] Actually. You know what? Maybe it's best you don't. This place is creepy enough as it is without weirdos talking to me like we're friends or something. No offence or anything.

Oh. By the way. [ No one can see it, but Ellie is rubbing her nose - a nervous habit of hers when she feels scared or uneasy. She has to muster all her strength to not sound as worried and scared as she actually is, especially about what she's about to mention next. ] Guess I should, um, mention while I'm on this thing that I'm looking for someone. An old guy, with a beard, looks pretty pissed off most the time, like he's got a giant stick up his ass.

[ A feeble attempt at trying to sound lighthearted, like she's not worried about not being able to find Joel. There's a pause, though, followed by a quietly worried exhale of breath. ]

I'm gonna guess he's probably… not… [ Can't bring herself to finish the sentence: probably not here. ] Uh. Look, if you see a guy wandering around who fits that description, answers to the name Joel? Just... just tell him there's a little girl looking for him.

[ Another awkward pause. She swallows hard, trying to swallow back the slow burn of panic that keeps trying to rise up her throat like bile. ]

Oookay. I'm done here. Over and out. Or… whatever.

[ More fumbling noises. A quietly muttered, "what the fuck, how do I turn this thing--" and then the feed ends. ]

[ Amidst the bright greens of the Oxygen Gardens is Elizabeth, much better off since her last broadcast, post-Smiley trauma. The brunette turns the device on, yes, but her attention is elsewhere, ducking amongst the plants and trying to suss out a few of the bugs. In the meantime, she's singing softly to herself, looking almost lost in a daydream for a moment or two. ]

I'm sorry, I meant to ask: is there anyone else aboard who had... well, some kind of power before coming to the ship? I've mentioned it once or twice to some since I've been here, but I had a certain ability before arriving and I'm almost nostalgic for it. It was part of who I am, and... it's a bit hard to explain.

Oh, and the Gardens are wonderful! I can't believe I haven't spent any time here before; they make the whole place seem much less cold. And there are insects! It really does remind me of home, which I thought I would never miss.

[ There's a wistful sigh. ]

Space can be awfully lonely, don't you think?

Right.

[The feed is muffled for a moment, as if he's covering the input with his fingers. He is. It takes Cullen a few moments of shuffling around before he's got the communication device where it needs to be and the sound starts coming through a little clearer.]

My name is Cullen. I'm rather new around here. Before the, uh. Before this, I was the commander of a small army- prior to that, I served as a templar for over a decade. [A pause. Different worlds, different military factions, so it warrants a short explanation.] -the Templar Order is... it's like a holy order tasked with protecting others from the harmful effects of magic.

[Well, actually... ugh, close enough, also not really the point of this message. Moving on.]

Anyway, I've spent the past few weeks here familiarizing myself with the situation that everyone is in and in light of recent events, I'd like to offer my help. I'm not sure how the chain of command works here, but if I can be of assistance, then I'd be happy to.

[He moves to shut the feed off, but then as an afterthought-]

-also, can someone tell me where the training grounds are? If you have that sort of thing here? I feel like I've been wandering around in circles.

[Death's sitting in what is clearly a passenger room, but not decorated in any particularly personal way.]

Hey. Bit of a month we've had, isn't it?

I'm not a trained therapist or anything. [Being older than psychology and all] But my job usually means running into people when they're at their worst. So I've gotten pretty good at listening.

I've grabbed room one on deck nine of the passenger quarters if anyone just wants someone to talk to. Or just wants tea and cookies. I promise that at my age, there's pretty much nothing you can tell me that I haven't heard before at some point. And it's never my place to judge or spill your secrets to someone else.

((OOC: Feel free to answer on the network or just action on down to her "office"))

[ Compared with all of her past broadcasts and the sweet, curious, bright-eyed impressions she's given off in the past, today's view of Elizabeth is a little more on the disturbing side. The young woman is clearly terrified, looking very, very worse for wear. The keener eyes in the ship's residents may notice signs of malnutrition. Dehydration. Exhaustion. In the meanwhile, Elizabeth clutches her device close, shaking, eyes shining with fear. ]

Is... Is this real? Can anyone-- [ She takes a deep breath, trying to keep things together, not doing an especially good job. ] Is there someone there? I... I need help. Please--

[ The lack of the ship's usual humming doesn't help; Elizabeth glances around, terrified, the silence cutting deep into her already-overwhelming panic. ]

Just let me go, I can't take this anymore!

[ Apparently, she and :) don't see eye to eye... ]

Some people asked last time. So if anyone is interested in a portal demonstration. I've got the gym on floor 12 set up.

If you want to know what a portal is. It's this

[The screen will change to video and show something like this

And back to text.]

No, I don't know the details of the science behind it. But it you want to see it, I'm in the gym.

[Feel free to respond with questions or just show up in the gym.

If you go for the gym option, you'll find Chell sitting on a cube with a heart on it. The gym is covered in white paint splotches. There is a shimmering blue portal on one, but no orange one yet.]

[ For perhaps the first time over the network, Elizabeth doesn't exactly look chipper. She's fidgeting, pulling at bits of her hair and moving as she talks. ]

Hello. I... I was hoping that I could ask you all your opinions, based on your own experiences. I realize that what I'm asking is situational and... well, really, private, but I really do need advice.

... When you have to kill, or... had to, before, what was it that allowed you to reason through it? Even if the act is for the greater good, it's still the taking of a life. Someone told me once that it was a necessity, though a terrible one, and I know now that he was right. Still, though, if it wasn't for survival-- for your own survival-- [ She pauses, reconsiders. ] If someone else was in danger--an innocent--is it any easier?

[ Clearly, she's never killed anyone before. Elizabeth chews on her lip, very much agitated. ]

Oh! This isn't about anyone on the ship, not at all. I'm only wondering for when I return to Columbia.

I'm aware that this is about to sound terribly dramatic, but. [ But she's paused a moment, debating cutting the feed entirely. She's been too reclusive, however, and this is as good a way as any to try and connect to her fellow passengers, isn't it? ]

I've spent my whole life in exodus. It's as if my life is split into chapters, and each one ends with having to flee the place I'd been calling home. Being stuck somewhere isn't something I'm accustomed to.

[ Which brings us to the point: ] How do you all stand it? I'm discovering that I'm terrible at keeping busy without wilderness to go tromping through, noble children to drag home, or a city guard to assist. Does anyone need anything fetched? I might actually be desperate enough to play messenger and courier for someone. I can only do target practice so much before even that gets dull.

[ There's a heavy sigh. Hawke doesn't like this one bit. ]

Which reminds me, I don't suppose there's anyone around here who knows how to make arrows?