[ Judging by the flash of furniture and kneecaps, Carolyn is crouching down next to her bed when she turns the video on. She's smiling today, but there's more than happiness there: there's wonder, awe, and a bit of surprise. ]

Spot had her kittens, [ she breathes, then turns the camera and carefully slides it under the furniture to get as much of an image as she can until the momma cat hisses at her. ]

( cut for image )

I'm not sure how many there are yet. They're so small...

[ Her voice trails off, and Carolyn seems to realize that she's being overly sentimental about a bunch of kittens and shakes herself, standing. The motion seems to smooth her back into something harder, even if it's slightly ruined by her quick glance back toward the bed. ]

I didn't arrive on the ship with cats. Their original owners left, and they stayed behind. It may be a good idea for everyone to come up with a contingency plan for their possessions, in case they return home or something happens to them. This is especially true for animals, but if there's something that you'd especially like certain people to have, it could help guarantee that it gets to them.

[The feed clicks on to show Taylor sat in the security office. The jump usually leaves her unwilling to really deal with people for a few days, and she doesn't precisely look friendly, expression set level and maybe slightly annoyed. Not interested in messing around, which only becomes clearer as she starts talking.]

I don't do the welcome committee, so I'm gonna keep this short as. My name's Tyke, I'm first wave and I'm head of SEC here on the Tranquility. The Security team are here to keep you safe and alive, and we do that job because this ship is going to try and kill you, or maim you, or fuck with your head. You can be stupid, or you can help us out by letting us deal with the real problems instead of dealing with you.

The rules we enforce among passengers are basic. You don't steal or damage each other's belongings or the ship, you don't assault each other, and you don't kill each other. If you break any of these rules we will take action. Punishment is decided case-by-case - we have a brig, we run infractions by Captain Ward. So don't ask me 'what would you do if'. I'm sick of hearing it.

It's additionally strongly advised you do not enter the unlit central sections of the ship. Whole place is hostile territory, but the dark is where the real fucked up lives. So stay out of it, if you want better odds.

If you've got a fighting, military or police background, we could use your skills on our team. If you don't have any of those skills but are still interested, we offer training. But keep in mind what you're signing up for. I run recruitment, contact me or Miles Edgeworth to schedule assessment.

[A pause, and she glances off camera at something briefly before adding,]

There's a dog here. German Shep. [And because she knows what response some people might give,] No, it's not mine.

( [FILTERED TO SECURITY | ENCRYPTED 95%] )

[Crowley has been on the ship for hours.

The whole business was rather unpleasant, as is being branded like some kind of animal, but all in all, the demon is rather unruffled. Transport into another universe was something of another day's work, though it was an alarming coincidence that it occurred so closely to his greatest victory. Was this his punishment for his involvement with defeating the Leviathan?

Unlikely, the demon decides, and so he goes about his business.

First, it is a matter of discovering his locker, of removing his things, and of disappearing. He has little interest in socializing immediately and, as a result, Crowley vanishes into the shadows to dwell and think -- and, most importantly, learn. Within the hour, Crowley has all he needs to know at his fingertips, and with a flick of his fingers, his comm turns on to broadcast his soft accented English to the Tranquility.]

I'm afraid I require a bit of explanation as to why, exactly, someone thought it would be humorous to shove a Hellhound into a test tube.

[There's an artful pause.]

And also the location of the nearest groomer. This filth is absolutely disgusting.

[There's another three second pause before his own transmission ends.

Let's see who decides to come forward with information about why he, the demon King, is here.]

Ta.

-S.

( ooc: I'LL BE SO HAPPY IF YOU GUYS FIGURE THIS OUT ON YOUR OWNNN. Pm me or bother me on Plurk if you need help. <3

edit: Reads as "All Add As End, A Reedited Irish Kill Toy"
Hope you guys aren't too confused, SCRAMBLED even
edit: Found words are "All" and "is." AND "IS" IS REPEATED TWICE IN THE ANSWER~*~
ANOTHER HINT: 3 2 1 6, 3 3 3 2 1 6 2
New word: riddle. It's repeated twice.

It's been solved! Good job, Hope! Hightlight for the answer: "All is a riddle, and the key to a riddle is" Very good job, but what is the key to a riddle? Hmm?)

[ irene adler is holding holmes' pipe between her teeth. it's perhaps a sign of her nerves that she isn't even the least bit smug about it, but that's nothing she'll admit to. ]

I'd like to talk to my Sherlock, if you please. And the good doctor as well. Though I do suppose I may as well invite the whole mess of you into this discussion, as you'll no doubt find your way into it regardless.

I'm thinking of starting up a business. I dunno about you, but I'm rather parched for things to do between all the panic attacks.

As pointed out in a recent transmission, there are some individuals here who resemble one another. There are others whose worlds are similar to others', while others still have worlds that differ radically.

The following is a survey designed to attempt to determine whose worlds are most similar to whose. As a full disclaimer, I am not a trained sociologist/demographist, nor do I claim to be. My credentials extend no further than merely dabbling in disciplines related to those and having studied the science of writing the census briefly when I was younger. Nevertheless, I believe this may be a useful diagnostic tool.

I would encourage everyone who sees this to take a look at others' responses. If you see something familiar, please discuss with the other individual what that similarity is; from there, please try to determine just how similar/different your worlds are.

This is completely optional.

( The survey can be found after this break in the text. )

[locked to Crowley]

An amendment to the contract.

Taylor Kee, or Tyke, as she prefers. She isn't to be touched.

[Ignoring the fact that he doesn't actually know her that well. But Dean had wanted Castiel to watch over her, and he still hasn't quite learned how to say no to him.]

I do apologize for having you sit on your hands for so long. What you must think of me...

I think I'm about ready to put you to some work, though, if you're up for a bit of a challenge.

Okay, since this is apparently the request hotline lately, I've got three.

[Heather holds up a hand, counting off on fingers as she goes.]

First, the Agricultural department is stupid understaffed. There's stuff growing in there that wasn't when I got my introductory tour, so I know at least one of you knows what they're doing. Sure I don't need to remind you that if the garden goes tits-up we all die nasty, so how about some of you come and make it all official?

Second, does this puzzle deal seem familiar to anyone else? Stuff goes to hell, you get a puzzle, you get clues, and you don't know whether what's on the other side is something you need or something that's gonna make it worse? Might have been a little lonelier last time around. Let's talk. Two heads are better and all that bullshit.

Third, I need to hear from anyone who has or knows how to make Aglaophotis. If you know what it is you'll have a pretty good idea of why.

Let me know.

Ring-a-ding-ding, darling. How's that motor running?

[ Though having spent quite a while laid up in the Med Bay in the aftermath of the fear gas, Littlefinger is well aware that there are other goings ons that seem to bode much worse for the passengers upon the ship.

Still, as a larger plan has yet to come into focus and as his own concerns are, for the moment, concentrated elsewhere, he gleans what he can from what information is publicly broadcasted and doesn't bother asking after those circumstances any further.

Instead: ]

To the Tranquility at large:

This may be my own ignorance coming into play, but would anyone know of a physical library upon the ship? My understanding is that there is much made accessible through the use of our communications devices, but I would vastly prefer the feel and weight of paper in my hand.

Secondly, I am in need of a few favors in regards to clothes available upon the ship, so if anyone could offer their help in that respect, I would be extremely grateful.

Lastly, I would inquire as to the presence (or absence) of a clear economy. This is but a trivial matter, but I have come to understand that the large majority of trade upon the vessel is done upon a basis of bartering and favours. In the event that I am mistaken, I served in a position managing the ins and outs of money in my former home and I would offer my meager talents wherever they might serve best.

Ever at your service,
Lord Petyr Baelish

'Try not to die.' Perhaps we should take that as a note of encouragement. [Listen closely or you might miss the barely discernible inflection of grim humor in his tone.]

As far as that list goes; 'influential' or 'disruptive' people it's been said, for the most part. I'll give odds it's a hit-list. [Aren't you heroes and villains proud of yourselves now, to have attracted the whatever-it-is's animosity. Let that be a vote for ambiguity.]



[[ooc: edited to remove assumptions of common knowledge, d'oh.]]

[ Who's that girl using her tablet as a mirror? None other than Saint Kitten, who is currently fussing over the state of her blonde curls and humming softly. The more observant ones can probably notice the Adam's Apple, but after a few blinks of wide, blue eyes she realizes that she has, somewhere along the line, pressed transmit. ]

Oh fiddley boodles.

[ That's what you get for being from the 60s. She brightens up anyway: all Irish accent and husky voice and smiles. ] Is this my best side, darlings?

Hello, my fellow captives, it appears I'm back again. I hope to get a flood of beautiful faces weeping with joy at seeing me here once more to brighten up their day.

Do tell fill me in on what's been happening, hnn?

[ The video feed cuts in to display Justin Taylor with the sketchpad he arrived with propped up on a knee while he hangs out in one of the lounge areas, watching people pass by. He speaks distractedly. ]

So, I'm on to a few theories. Most of them involve all of you being on some kind of group hallucinogenic trip and this being a bizarre, Lucas Con rejects cult commune. But seeing as 'low budget sci-fi basement porno dungeon' has been shot down, the best I really have left is 'underground kidnapping ring that's going to end in me getting sold off as a sex slave to some foreign business tycoon' and that just seems absurd. [ He glances up at the comm device, shaking his head, and holds his hands up to gesture for a moment. ] I mean. There would be cages or something, wouldn't there? You don't just let sex slaves wander, and you don't build cliche fantasy sets for them.

[ He pauses to look at the camera in earnest for a moment. ] So, since you're all so convinced, is there actual proof of the whole space thing? We're short on windows, and no, this isn’t me asking to be shoved out an airlock, so you can take your smartassed comments and shove them right back up your ass, thank you very much. And even with windows - who's to say it's not just special effects. The government can do shit like that, right?

[ There's a weak shrug ] I'd just like to know I'm not a lab rat in some severely fucked up, large scale social experiment.