[ Allison appears on the network with an orange tabby on her lap -- but it's not Spot. He's sitting in the background on the pillow on her bed, looking annoyed and flicking his tail. Seems he doesn't like interlopers. Allison's ignoring his pouting, for now, scratching the other cat under his chin. ]

So I found this little guy on one of my patrols of the lower floors of the ship, and he followed me back to my rooms. Does he belong to anyone? I can bring him over.

[ Allison glances back to Spot. ] I don't think Spot wants a roommate.

[ The feed clicks on to a hand-held view of Ripley, but the screen's steady. Just close enough to make the background difficult to make out, at first, though a glimpse of green probably makes it easy to fill in the blanks. ]

My name is Ellen Ripley. [ Lieutenant, but something tells her the rank's useless, here. ] I arrived with the last jump. Thank you to those who were kind enough to fill me in on the basics.

[ Gently wry. "Kind" is a generous term for the attitude she got for her medbay interrogations, though the gratitude's honest all the same. For the most part, her expression and voice remain formal, all patient neutrality. ]

I'd appreciate it if you'd humor a few more questions — I apologize if any of it's repetitive.

Are you familiar with the name Weyland-Yutani?

Two: are we aware of the ship's purpose? Not what we're doing here, or what's happened to it since; I'd like to know what it was built for.

And if any of you have first-hand experience with the creatures in the hallways, I'd like a detailed description.

[ She's a long way from home. That's what everyone keeps telling her, except there's far too much déjà vu in the scattered records she's managed to get her hands on to ignore. It wouldn't be the first time she'd woken up in her own world only to find it slightly askew.

And while this probably sounds more like business than pleasure, it'll admittedly be nice to have some actual conversations. Speaking of social skills, she ends off with an even: ]

Thank you for your time.


( ooc: gentle 4th-walling is ok up to her canon point, which is the beginning of the third movie! )

Raven Reyes here.

To the departments (any) - What's protocol when your boss goes MIA? MIA as in disappeared at jump. As far as I know, she never did name a second.

To Flight & Comms - How's our chain of command looking? Still got Wash and Ryuuzaki? Did we lose anyone else?

To Engineering - What now? I'm doing everything I can but we can only go like this for so long.

To anyone who can tell me what the hell this thing is - [ she's attaching a picture of what looks like a rubik's-cube-sized square of skin and flesh?? it's sitting alone on a table. ] I'm all ears.

To anyone I've ever talked to - Be nice to know if you're still around.

[And now, a public service announcement from your resident lord and master of gross exaggeration, poster child of pointless overreaction, supreme champion of the ninety-mile-an-hour whinge--]

There's a cow in the oxygen garden.

[He doesn't even bother to hide the undercurrent of disgust in the audio feed, an edge to his voice that makes it clear he's most likely had a recent run-in with the aforementioned cow and/or a cow by-product.]

There's a cow in the oxygen garden why is there a cow in the oxygen garden on what strange, bizarro planet did any of you think this was a good idea?

Agh, it's--nevermind, I'm absolutely positive that at least some of you come from strange, bizarro planets where this sort of thing is acceptable. I mean, the cats and the dogs and--I heard there's a horse, too--are bad enough, now we've got livestock.

And don't even--don't even get me started on the bloody birds. Filthy. Eugh.

I know we're probably still hung up on certain unnamed parties forgetting how to swim, and yes, fair enough, it's tragic, but I think we could all use a, ah. Friendly reminder. This is, in fact, a spaceship. Not a zoo. How is that--What's the point, anyway? It's all--it's all great that the ship packed up your giant killer wolf and dumped it in your locker just for you, but maybe the rest of us are not entirely comfortable with the idea of cows and horses and giant killer wolves out! Anyone think of that?

You can't walk five feet around here without running into someone's pet. We have got to start talking about what to do with all these animals. Honestly.

[ Betty's standing in the science department, frowning slightly at the room before turning her attention onto the camera, expression smoothing out. ]

It appears as though the strange maze that led to the science department, the one with the odd rooms and the black holes, has disappeared. There is a lift near the medbay and a door near the Oxygen Garden, however, so that the department is still accessible. I can't say for sure that the hallway is gone completely from the ship, but it certainly isn't where it once was.

[ locked to heine & nill ]

I looked over the samples. Nothing is wrong, which means it likely is just molting. I can either bring everything to you or you can come and get it -- whichever you'd prefer.

[As the camera clicks on, those who know Remus will notice how tired he looks. Not simply as if he hasn't gotten a night's sleep, but truly exhausted-- as if he's been on a long journey, or suffered some great hardship. The circles beneath his eyes are too dark, and there's a long pink scar forming on his right cheek.

Still, he gives the camera a smile, albeit a tired and nervous one.]

Ah-- hello. I do hope this is working properly; I haven't precisely had much practice with cameras. But-- yes. My name is Remus Lupin, and, as most of you know, I've been technically on-board the Tranquility for some months now. However, I've no memory of this-- really, it's as if this is my first month. So please, if I knew you but you haven't heard from me in a while, it's nothing to do with you, I assure you.

[The smile fades now.]

Which brings me to my second point. I've, ah, heard it said that I was rather free with this information, so I suppose it's no longer a secret. But--

[He glances behind him uncertainly, as if seeking support from someone unseen, and then nods.]

Well. I'm a werewolf. No jokes, please, I assure you I've heard them all. And-- well, we're taking every safety precaution we know, Sirius and I, but-- just so you know. I'll post up what days I'm dangerous, simply so no one stops by my room while I'm changed.

[He gives them a thin smile.]

And finally: a simple question. How many people, precisely, have duplicates or twins aboard the ship? Not biologically, I mean, but-- people who look like that, for no discernible reason at all.

[His face is way too close, but it's a friendly face, if nothing else.]

Nearly two weeks aboard by my count. I don't suppose there's any celebration for that. But I did hear something about a birthday or two. So. Happy belated, I hope it was a good one.

[He speaks with an undeniable English accent, tries to sound cheerful about it. But he knows that a lot of people would probably rather be celebrating their birthdays back home, or...anywhere but here. Tales of murder and being inked against one's will makes the name Tranquility a bit dubious at best. Speaking of names:]

I'm Noah, hullo, no relation to the guy with the ark. Just the one little beast with me, who's really missing his tins of tuna right about now.

Let me know if you come across any? Appreciate it.

[ She's not a public speaker on her best days, and this wasn't one of those. Her talk with Fry has kept her thinking, enough that when she wakes up out of the nightmares covered in sweat, she pushes the ache in her chest away with thoughts of something to do, something to work toward.

Fry had relegated her to doing this anyway. Schedules in space were different than on a world generating its own night-day cycles and perpetuating natural circadian rhythms. She's freshly showered, hair starting to dry in a tight, curling mess. The camera comes on as she's right up close to the eye. Stepping back, she gives a little perspective. It's a vid-phone. A conference call to anyone out there listening. ]

For those I haven't met, I'm Ellen Ripley. Carolyn Fry and I are offering to help people acclimatize and familiarize with operating full-time here in space. What we've got working here isn't an exact match for what we're used to, but it's close enough to help show the ropes to people who don't know and who want to get an idea. Call it a crash course in space-readiness training, without the option to fail out and stay down on Terra Firma.

That said, what are some of the questions you have on your mind relating to surviving in space? Or about the technology we've seen here so far. Knowing what questions you'd like answered helps us all out in the long run.

[ She reaches out, pausing. ]

Anyone with experience willing to work with us on this, get in touch. We can use you.

[ Vid over. Time to see what bites back. ]

A few items of business.

First: We need to start tracking ourselves more precisely. Two people in two months have perished because because they caught outside of the gravity couches at the time of a jump. What I propose is a simple check-in list for the jumps and someone to take roll. If anyone hasn't shown up one hour prior to the jump, then a search party can be organized. Is there any preexisting framework for such a system?

Second - [And here Edgeworth looks perhaps just a bit self-conscious - ] I'm looking for someone adept at construction. Please speak up if you have such skills and are willing to barter for labor.

[He recovers but frowns, just a bit hesitant before the next item.]

Third, a general question; bear with me if it sounds odd or intrusive, and responding to this is, as ever, completely optional. [He looks down; it's clear he's now reading off a page that he's prepared.] Respond in the affirmative or negative: "I would describe my life as 'peaceful' - id est, a life in which I have not witnessed or been subjected to violence."

[He looks up again.]

Your responses are appreciated.

[ Carolyn hasn't been here for long but she's been here long enough to notice things, and one of the things she's noticed is that most of these people have no real idea of how dangerous space can be. Some of them, sure -- Riddick, of course. Ellen, Kara, Clarke, Kirk and his crew -- but there are others who've never been in space before, even people who come from a place where it isn't possible yet. Fry doesn't want these people to die because of a stupid mistake, and she doesn't want a stupid mistake to be what kills all of them out here, either. ]

There are a lot of people here who haven't been in space before. I'm going to give you all some advice -- and honestly, if you know someone who's been in space, who knows spaceships, listen to them about this sort of thing. I know weird shit happens on this ship, but that smiley face isn't the only hazard out here.

I'm going to give you all a list of some of the dangers in space -- verbally, as there have been complaints [ you're welcome, Ros ] but I can give you a text version, too. If you have questions, feel free to ask, though I'm not a doctor or a physicist or an engineer and you might be better off asking one of them about some of these. And before anyone says it, I'm not trying to cause mass panic here -- but these are things you need to know, things everyone needs to keep in mind so nothing stupid and lethal happens.

( space: where everything will try to kill you )

It's been eight months without the ship imploding on itself. Let's keep these in mind and not do something stupid to change that. I don't care if you're a psychotic mass murderer who thinks it'd be fun; you do one of these and you're probably going to end up dead, too.

Good evening, Tranquility. My name is Nathan Petrelli, and prior to my arrival on the ship three jumps ago I was a New York Senator. Now I know what you're thinking, and you're right, I'm not the Senator of anything here. That's the first thing you've gotta know about this place; don't matter what you were at home, whether you were a leader, a villain, a scientist, student or salesman, cause now we're all in this together the only thing that matters any more is what we can do for each other. We gotta work together and we gotta support each other, protect each other.

Now me, I work in communications despite not knowing a damn thing about it, and I moonlight as a flight operator, seeing as Hotspur had the decency to show me how to handle the shuttles here before he died. We still need to fix up more of them, so consider this a call out to you engineer types. Need a hobby, something to do in your off time? Well we need your know-how getting these things flight-ready.

Some of you are gonna feel lost. This isn't a city, it's a ship; it runs by ship's rules, ship's laws, and the most important thing to remember when you're at sea is that the ship itself is what is keeping you alive. Outside of these walls there's a vaccuum just waiting to suck you all out and explode your heads, and while a case of cabin fever is expected, if you let it get out of hand you endanger all of us. Don't go to the war with the goddamn ship, got it? In the Navy you'd be taken off duty and tranquilized for pulling that kind of crap.

I'm guessing some of you don't think you can be of any use around here cause you've not fallen outta some cable network Sci-Fi. Maybe you're just a teenager, and all this 'war' talk and hacking stuff sounds like fun, but if you want to get involved in the crew, if you wanna really help out, then you should get involved, maybe take a crash course in one of the professions we got on board. We've got a handful of doctors and next to no nursing staff, a security team that's full of detectives who only really care when you're already dead, a garden which could be expected to provide both food and medicine for us for a while yet, but which we're having trouble finding green fingers to tend, next to no flight officers--the list goes on.

I know what you're thinking: what can I do; I haven't even graduated high school, I can't fly a shuttle, wrap a chemical burn, fix a computer.  But there's already people younger and more inexperienced than you doing just that, and if you don't give it a shot then you can expect only one thing for sure--that the opposite wall from your bunk is gonna get pretty boring real fast.

I'm looking for senior staff, experienced crew members who're willing to open themselves up to a group of apprentices each month, give them a crash course in whatever, expand on their natural skills. There's no reward, short of the chance to fill in where your own sections of the ship are short handed, just like I can't offer any of the students any advantage to taking a post short of the opportunity to learn new skills and not get bored senseless. Fact remains that we need this just to survive, nevermind find a way home, and I want to encourage all of you to give it a shot.

So here's how it's gonna work; this post is just to get people talking and try and work out how many people are interested and what sorta placements there's gonna be available. Try and think about whether you have the time to train someone in your field, and what number of students you can stand to take. Soon as we straighten things out, I'll make another post to get everyone reporting to the right places. Simple right? That's the plan, anyway.

Ah, and one more thing before I sign off. Chapel's open to all faiths tomorrow morning in the oxygen garden, same as it is every Sunday at 10am. Anyone is welcome to attend.

[ OOC: No logs go up for the chapel, but tomorrow there will be some brief words said about those lost during the last Jump, and Nathan might even try to be nice about Isaac. You're welcome to assume your character attends this Sunday as any other. ]

[the camera seems to be set up on a table somehow- high enough that it frames his shoulders and head nicely, as if he was preparing to give a lecture. He punches a few things in on the tablet he's holding before he looks up at the camera.]

Is things thing working-? Ah- good. [He punches a few more things in before he clears his throat.]

So- it seems that I am now aboard this ship- the "Tranquility" as it were, and really- who came up with that name? But anyway- No one seems to know where in the Galaxy we are, or the Universe for that matter. Judging by some of the- ahem- characters I've already had the pleasure of meeting, I'm definitely leaning towards Alternate Realities, which I am completely tired of.

I'm sure some of you out there have gleamed information somehow, seeing as this has been in place for at least seven months, I would appreciate having said information. The encryptions I've found on anything related to the ship are quite extraordinary, I'd love to have a chat with whoever designed them. I am running a few simulations, of course.

[the tablet in his hands beeps for a second, and he turns his attention to it, a frown crossing his face before he taps a few things and the feed cuts out.]

[ The video feed clicks on to show a now relatively calm Pepper, even if her mouth is set in a fairly thin line of mild discontent. Her hair is scraped back and tied in a neat bun, with her fringe still plastered a little wetly to her forehead, but at least she's clean now. She's been making regular use of the showers since arriving, just to make sure that every last bit of blue hideousness is washed away from her. For now, at least. ]

Now that everyone's had at least a bit of time to recover- [ herself very much included, even if "recover" is something of an overstatement ] -I might as well introduce myself, though from what I've been told, it appears some of you may already know who I am.

I'm Pepper Potts, an associate and coworker- [ this is still new, Tony, don't complain] -of Tony Stark's. [ The next words are a little practised, ones she's gone over in her mind and made sure that they're absolutely clear before speaking them. ] Not the same one from before, though. I have absolutely no memory of having been on this ship before, even though apparently I was, and I'm sorry to anyone that I might have met previously.

[ She pauses, briefly, before going on. ]

I just wanted to clear that up before any confusion took place. I think some of us have more than enough of that already, what with being on a spaceship and everything. [ The thought still makes her want to shudder a little. ] Thank you for your time, and I hope everyone's successfully washed off all of that awful blue stuff.

[ With a good natured, mild smile, Pepper shuts off the feed. She realises it's a rather mundane sort of addition to the network, but she'll leave revelations and interesting matters to Tony. She still isn't sure if she has the entire picture here - Tony has a curious understanding of what he should and shouldn't tell her, she knows this from experience - but god knows she will have it, one way or another. ]

[ This time, Erik chooses to don the helmet, which he hasn't worn since his first few weeks aboard the Tranquility, preferring to leave it at his side while his paranoia was temporarily allayed. Unfortunately, those particular events seemed to have flared up his need to renew his helmet use, more so thanks to a series of seemingly unrelated events, starting with Edgeworth's survey, and rounding it out with Tony's latest post. It's not a particular frightening stance, given that Erik is still brooding around in one of the libraries where he's making this broadcast, pacing back and forth as he considers the next move to make, hands behind his back. ]

There's been enough announcements over threats and supposed attempts at cooperation. While I find flaws to that philosophy, [ Sorry, Charles. ] it seems no matter what, we will constantly be tested while we're imprisoned.

[ Because as comforting as the quarters and the kitchens can be, Erik's near constant restlessness brought back distinct memories of a prison, one he was never inclined to ignore. ]

There's already been another death, and it goes without saying, some sort of unity is preferred. However, holding hands gets one nowhere. [ Sorry, Eridan. ] Cooperation is one thing, but a more active stance is necessary to prevent any further casualties or threats.

[ Erik pauses in midstep for a moment, turning his attention back to the camera. ]

Sitting passively by solves nothing. Actions are needed. The best defense here is in the form of an even better offense.

We can't escape one by one; but we can as a whole. I'll extend my hand as an offer of preparation. We need to be prepared; we need to be ready. [ Pause for dramatic effect. ] The question is, are you?

( Filtered; Resnik & Ward | Encrypted, 90% )

( Filtered; CR AU Charles | Encrypted, 90% )

[ There’s a very serious if rather haggard looking boy on the network. His appearance could be due to not getting enough sleep, enough food, or both. It’s hard to say. ]

My name is Miles – uh, Morales. Sorry Mr. Edgeworth, I forgot for a second. I wanted to ask – there aren’t real police here, are there? Not the kind that put people in jail. [ H’s already frowning at his communicator, but that frown gets a little deeper. He’s already got a pretty clear idea of the answer just from reading the network and watching the goings-on in the ship for the last couple of days. Still, he could be wrong… ] There aren’t any jails, either.

Though I don’t know if colony ships are supposed to have that kind of stuff or not. [ Or even if they are, if this one ever did. There’s still too much that he doesn’t know – even if some of it is more mundane and awkward to deal with. Which is why he’s back a little bit later: ]

But there’s, uh…a place to clean your clothes, right?[ An uncomfortable pause. ] And a place to take a shower by yourself?

[ And last but not least, to try to cover up the embarrassment from those last two questions and before he loses his nerve: ] Is there anybody else here from New York?

[It's almost impossible to see her, as the room she's in is dark.  Very dark.  But as one's eyes adjust to the incredibly dim lighting, they might be able to make out the young girl's face and hair.  Expression completely blank, with twin telltale streaks glistening with the occasional shift in movement.  She appears to be sitting on a bed of some kind, sitting with her back against the wall.  But not her room.  No, there was no way she was going back there.]

I spent the last two months wondering what exactly the worst part about this place was.  And I think I've finally figured it out.

[Her voice is slightly hoarse, and eerily calm for the subject at hand.]

It's not the part where our lives are constantly in danger.  It's not the fear, or the uncertainty.  Or even the fact that we've had to watch people die right in front of us.  I'd been through all that even before I came here.

No, the worst part of it is the cruelty of bringing aboard people you think are your friends, until you realize they're nothing more than strangers with familiar faces on them.  That, just when you've managed to find that one little bit of hope that you think could help get you through anything...it's all revealed to be one big lie you fell for.

Well, I'm not falling for it anymore.  So, congratulations, whoever's in charge.  You win.  

I'm done with all of this.

[In a single, swift motion, she ends her speech by hurling the stupid communicator across the room.  It shuts off upon impact.]




((OOC: Takes place shortly after Zatanna and Artemis have a particularly heartwrenching exchange of words post-jump.  Replies will be slightly delayed, as Zatanna would have to muster the will to walk across the room to collect her miraculously not-broken communicator first.  ACTION open to any who would know how and/or want to find her.))

[ Charles turns on the device and it defaults to video. He has cleaned up, found his room, and slipped on the blue sweater he found in the locker. He has taken seat near a desk, where he has piled his belongings. He appears to be thinking, as the disorientation has worn off, but it seemed to be the time to ask questions. ]

I've gathered a bit of information about this place, but more can always be useful. How secure is this?

[ His expression softens and he smiles a bit. It's weird asking questions, but he has founded that his ability is not quite up to par with what it was at home. ]

I could use a better idea of the locations of this place outside of the passenger quarters. Is there a map of this place? I have not yet had a chance to explore this ship, but I would prefer to avoid getting lost if at all possible. [ He barely skips a beat before he continues. ] And is there a library?

[ He pauses for a moment, considering his next few questions. He really needs to talk to - well, people from home. Sort out what had happened completely. And be caught up on anything that he may be missing, since he is certain there is something. That is best left for private and one-on-one conversations, and he isn't certain how secure it is yet. ]

I think I will pick up a book, if they are here; however, I would prefer to know what people do here to occupy their time. Or what it is that needs to be done.

[ He reaches up to turn off the device. ]

I'm Charles Xavier, by the way, if you need to reach me.

[ ooc: Charles is on 008-095, and I am open to action if anyone would prefer. ]

[Though she's calmed down considerably, since awakening to find herself on a spaceship (of all places), this Beauty still regards the camera in a very nervous manner. Though she manages to mostly draw her attention to the screen, she still occasionally darts a look to the left or the right, as she's expecting something to attack her at any moment.]

Haha... hahaha...

[Get used to this laughter, because you're going to hear a lot of it from here on.]

So this -- [A small pause, while she exhales.] -- this is really space?!

[She spits out the last word in wonderment, still not knowing how to grasp this concept. Her brows crease and her eyes widen in disbelief as she goes silent again, really not knowing how to follow up a question like that. Sarina just simply stares at the camera like that, for at least a few good seconds, as if the question would just answer itself.

Eventually, she breathes out through her nose, while her lips tightened at the urgent matter that's been plaguing her mind, since she awoke.]

A-anyway, I don't know how the fuck that's even possible -- eeheeheehee -- but from my understanding, none of us know. But - ah - I was wondering... has anyone seen my suit?

[She lifts one hand up, waving it excitedly as she began to describe it.] It's maybe a foot or two taller than I am -- haha -- and then probably a circumference of two or three feet wider than me. It's kind of a green-like color and it's got a lot of straps to it. Ahahaha -- but the most recognizable feature should be the tentacles - they're probably a foot round, metallic, and there's four of them.

[Looking troubled, she glances away from the screen, dropping her hand down as she continues.] I... I don't know how I'm still alive without it -- eheh -- but I need it. So please... let me know if any of you have seen it.

[ There's a woman staring steadily into the screen, hinting the slightest bit of weariness as she fumbles with a strand of hair behind her ear. Perhaps in a hurry to tidy herself and calm her nerves. "It was a very rude awakening on the Tranquility," her expression says. But she will carry on.

She speaks, her voice unwavering and professional. An interview: ]

My name is Dr. Elizabeth Shaw and I woke to find myself on a ship not like my own. [ "It wasn't really my ship, but theirs," she almost corrects. ] I'm not entirely sure how long I've been in stasis, but some time ago I was part of an expedition with the USCSS Prometheus to LV-223. We sought out the answers from who we may believe may have engineered us... mankind. Our creators. But the ship and crew— [ Charlie. ]

If anyone could be of help to my own questions, where I am and if there's a chance if anyone, anyone at all, happened to come across an android by the name of David... please contact me right away. Thank you.

[ She blinks back at the screen, blinking away an afterthought she almost expresses with a gaped mouth, but instead reaches over to end the feed. ]

[Jesse appears neither excited nor distressed. He actually looks mostly tired, which maybe is to be expected from a new arrival. He's slumped over on his new bed with his chin resting in his hand, mumbling around his fingers:]

Yo. I'm Jesse. Albuquerque, New Mexico, U.S.A. 2009. Whatever. Holler if you know me.

[Is he bored or something? He acts as if this is routine.]

First thing: if there's any monsters and aliens and shit I gotta be looking out for, gimme a heads-up.

Second: anybody wanna grab some food? Is there food or is it all freeze-dried bullshit? I had freeze-dried ice cream once and it was totally lame, so like, please tell me they got burgers up in here. Funyuns? Something?