[ There's the whisper of not-quite silence that indicates the device is recording, followed by the sounds of someone obviously fiddling with it, like Emily's realized what a bad idea showing her face to the network could be, and might just turn the device off and call it a day. It takes a minute, but the video eventually clicks on. ]

So.

[ No going back now... ]

Everyone's got this moniker that their parents gave them, and it stays with you- its, really, the only thing that can't take it on the heel and toe, dig? And- I mean, there's gotta be some thought that goes into giving a person a name, like... your parents know you're coming and they've got all these gowed-up hopes, savvy? That you're gonna be this tomato of a doll, that you're gonna be a right gee, that maybe you'll end up a little bit like both of them- [ A glance off screen, chewing on her bottom lip. ] Or nothing like either of them...

But they've gotta choose this moniker that's going to stay with you for the rest of your life, that stands to define you, and--

[ A hopeless look, like this is the edited and condensed version of a much longer conversation she's had over and over with herself- one she's well past frustrated with. ]

How does someone do that?

Ladies and gentlemen of the Tranquility, good evening.

[From the video, you can see Albert is seated somewhere in the oxygen gardens, on a wide-open patch of grass. He looks somewhat contemplative.]

I have a-- a somewhat personal question to ask of you all, so don't feel compelled to answer if you don't wish to. [He seems to hesitate, and then he plunges ahead quickly, as if he must ask it before he loses courage.]

How many of you here believed yourselves to have passed away before you woke up in this place?

And-- for those of you who don't want to talk about something quite so morbid, maybe you could tell me what year, or what country, or planet you come from. I'd... really like to hear about other people's homes. As for me-- I'm from Paris, France, the year 5053.

I've also got some tea and plenty of cups to go around here in the garden, if you'd prefer to speak in person. I'd welcome the company, and the chance to meet all of you.

I've noticed a lot of people talking about what they can teach or what they want to learn and that got me thinking. I was pretty distracted in school and I don't really feel like I know what I should know, but at the same time, I don't really know what I don't know.

[Perhaps its telling that he still thinks of what he ought to learn in prescriptive measures that have to do with school-based learning.]

If that made any sense to you, I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me what you think the average person should know. Maybe skills I ought to have or books I should've read?

[ From the doom and gloom of everyone's existence around here, rolls a voice that's... well okay, not very doom and gloom-y but give him a second. He'll get there. ]

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
[ aaaand... a moment of silence. or appreciation. or both. both is good. whichever you'd prefer, because moz just needs a moment to enjoy. or quite possibly brag about this font of information in his brain. now, let's continue. ]

I'm just curious -- no one's actually shot an albatross around here, right? For fun or sport or just to see what might happen if you did, because i'm starting to hope that one of you showed up with some dice. Just, y'know, in case. And by 'in case' I mean every single day. Because those dice might just come in handy when any other frightful friends show up, and that's when i'll be there to remind you.

[ sigh, can you hear him shaking his head? ] I've begun to realize that you'll never run out of stories to tell because of this place, you'll only run out willing ears. The considerable lack of people - [ to use as underground sources ] - to play a game of parcheesi with is starting to become more of a disappointment than I ever thought it could be. What am I supposed to do with my sunday nights now? And if one of you tries to tell me to pick up Go Fish, i'll have you know that I'm only willing to sink so low.

And i've already sunk to the levels of bottom of the barrel three dollar cabernet, which is like licking the floor of a subway tunnel. [ .... er. ] Not that i've ever done that before.

[ well..... ] I might have paid someone else to do it.

But that's not the point. There's only so much boredom one man can stand. Only so many times you can play three-card-monte with yourself before you start getting it on the money. And the payout on that's not so big, if you catch my drift.

[Helen had given herself time to adjust to her new surroundings before addressing the network. Finally sitting down with the device in front of her, she turns on the video feed.]

I’m given to understand we’re stranded on this ship until such a time as it reaches its destination. And that no one has found a viable method of returning to our home worlds.

However, it’s vitally important that I return to where I’m most needed. Is there anyone here able to tell me what happens in our own worlds during our stay here? How could so many have been taken without their absences being noticed?

Any information you could share would be greatly appreciated.

[There’s a small pause as though she’s considering something. She never has liked sitting idle.]

In the meantime, I’d like to offer my services. Perhaps the medical staff could use another pair of hands.

[ stiles looks like he's tamping down on some serious worry. he's trying to sound casual, but there's definitely concern in his eyes, the corner of his mouth tight with tension, and his leg bounces with a nervous anxiety. ]

Hey, uh. Has anyone out there seen my dad? Probably introducing himself as Stilinski. He's zero twelve, zero twenty-four. I already went by his room, 'cause we were meant to— anyway, he's not there, and I heard all the messages about we're not supposed to just go wandering off and looking for people, so I figured I'd just ask, first.

[ first. as in, this entry is coming before he goes wandering off and looking for his dad. ]

[ stiles gives an awkward grimace, and then his face trembles and he reaches over and covers the camera with his palm, voice thready. ]

I can't lose him, okay? I can't. So just. Let me know. Thanks.

[ Unlike the only other post Ladon's done on the network, this one isn't meant to be video. It is anyway, though, because failure with technology comes as his second nature. Either way, Ladon's lounging in his room, enjoying one of the few glasses of Fir whisky he has left from the bottle that showed up in his locker. And for once he's not all buttoned up and formal, his shirt's in the laundry along with his vest and tie. He's also going a few days between shaves now to keep from running out of what he has.

So hey. Undershirt and stubble. You're welcome, space anonymous. His hat's still on, though. It may as well be glued to his head. ]

So. Puttin' aside the unpleasantness of mooks here killin' or threatenin' to kill animals who ain't done no harm... Got a couple questions for you folks.

One, ever notice somethin' here similar to your world? We ain't got none of this blinkin' business back home, but I seen some things here similar t'the station I was on before. Wonderin' if it's just coincidence. Or if space shit's the same 'cross the board.

Two... [ He pauses a moment, sets his glass down and turns it a few times in contemplation. ] Wonderin' 'bout those holodeck things we got here. Anyone know how they work?

((OOC: Ladon dissected a roomba today thus why he needs to wash his shirt and such. He put it back together again before setting it free, but you're likely to find the poor thing hanging about on the 11th floor, running into walls and going in circles. Not good with technology, remember? ENJOY YOUR DEFECTIVE ROOMBA, TQ.))

[ Greg's been on board for four weeks now, and he's seriously homesick. Fortunately for everyone else, he's decided to do something about it (in addition to moping, which already is doing something, thank you very much). ]

I need some statistics. Well-- Raw numbers would be good, too, actually, or anecdotal evidence, or anything you want to tell me. Okay.

Does anyone know-- What's the probability you'll disappear any given jump? Does the probability change if you've been here for longer, or for people who got here on certain jumps? Even if no one's calculated the probability, does anyone have records of everyone who's ever been on the ship? The headcount only lists the most recent jump, and having those lists would help us figure out the statistics and look for patterns. [ Not that there is an "us" right now, but there could be, in the future. Maybe. ]

Um, and third? Fourth? Whatever this is-- How many of you are here with someone else from your... world, I guess is the best word for it? And does anyone have statistics for that? [ He sighs. He's not excited at the prospect of all this number-crunching, but at least it's something he can do to keep himself occupied, and it might give him a more realistic view of how likely he is to disappear, presumably going home, or at least see a familiar face anytime soon. ]

Anyway, come talk to me if you have information or if you want to help or anything. There could be a lot of data to deal with, and. Well. [ This is the face of a teenager who really wants help and really doesn't want to ask for it. ] Help would be really great? Um. I'll be hanging out in the 14th floor in one of the common areas, near the lifts, so. Yeah.

[ Tap, tap. Tap. good, It's on. When Cid realizes the whole thing is recording, he's smiling. He's wearing his overalls, and his shirt, and one of them is unclipped and there's a smudge of dirt on his face. From the background, it looks like he's in the oxygen garden, underneath a tree. ]

I wanna help make venge-tables for everyone, like Sara is. But I don't want her to know, I want to make it carrots and surprise her.

[ Nod. He pans the camera to a hole in the ground he's dug up with his hands, by the look of it. ]

I'm trying to copy her but I'm used to watching the machines do it on the farm. I don't know what happens next.

[ no one has ever looked more irritated to be on camera than derek looks right now. there's a beat, and then derek gestures to his beard, which has progressed past stubble and into full on beard territory. ]

I need a new razor.

[ there's a pause. he doesn't actually have anything to trade, which is a problem. there's maybe a minute of dead air and then derek just shakes his head and shuts the feed down. ]

[ Guess who is in a terrible mood? ]

you're welcome. sweet dreams.

[ It's vague. It's supposed to be vague. Any of you sleeping nicely lately? This is a place of nightmares, of course. But are they suddenly gone? Suddenly vacuumed away like the work of a dream catcher? It's this guy. He's been feasting on them all.

( And gosh, some of you have problems. )

He can't be too specific, but you can say it makes his cranky heart feel a little better. This isn't PostSecret, but let him have this. ]

[it's laundry day. this is only obvious because instead of one of her dresses or the jumpsuit, nill is wearing a zip-up sweatshirt. she can pass as a regular teenager like this, with her wings out of view! you know, if she could talk.

anyway, it's also obvious that it's laundry day since she's, you know, sitting in one of the laundry rooms.

she pushes her bangs from her eyes before typing.]

Forgot to mention after last jump. Found a bird near the lift. Bigger than any that were here. It is brown and tan with orange tail. I took it to the gardens.

Does it belong to anybody? Sure it was not here before the jump.

[she pushes her bangs from her face again and frowns slightly.]

Also thinking about haircuts. I need scissors. [this comes a few seconds later:]

Doing something normal might be good.

[ The comms turn on and Rachel's face can be seen. She looks calm, confident and put together. Even though, on the inside, she might be anything but. ]

Hi.

[ Rachel doesn't ask for help often - or, at all. So, she's not quite sure how to go about this. ]

I have a few [ how shall she put this ] questions. I'm new and I'm used to being the one who knows everything. [ except how to be modest ] I'm a paralegal [ because she refuses to use past tense ] and I know the ins and outs of the firm I work for. The associates, other paralegals - they all came to me for help. Granted, I've worked there for five years. [ As their best paralegal ever, but the network doesn't... need to know that. There's such thing as some modesty. ] For the first time in a long time I find myself with more questions then answers.

Hopefully, that's where you come in. If you wouldn't mind taking some time to answer a few questions?

First, I haven't been that impressed with the food here. It might be that I'm eating the wrong thing. And I haven't made it down to the oxygen gardens yet. Are their any chefs on board? Or, is there anyone familiar with food? [ a smile. ] Good food?

( neal caffrey )

public ]

Second. Is there a way to transfer information from the datapads in the library onto my phone? I've been doing a lot of reading but I've been stuck in the library. There's nothing wrong with it, it's actually quite remarkable but... I'd like the option of reading somewhere else. Maybe the common room or my room.

Third. Things... happened a few days ago. Is there anything I shouldn't be doing? I got the basic rundown from several people my first week here. You can never be too safe, right?

Four. And it's less of a question and more of an apology... For those of you who know Mike Ross, I'm sorry. He's - well, you get used to him. So, if he's done anything to you or said anything to you [ or generally been himself at all ] just, please accept this blanket apology.

[ because she may have spent some time looking up conversations between Mike and people and wow, Mike, you fail at being a human being but why would that be different then in space? and maybe this is sort of flirty and needly - she may not be divulging voice mail details but she's only human. mike ross pushes her buttons. so she's pushing his ]

Okay. I think that's it. Oh, my name is Rachel, for those who haven't met me.

( previous cr )

( donna paulsen )

[Michelle is in the library as usual; people who frequent it have most likely encountered this beautiful blonde bibliophile taking stack after stack of digital literary records from the shelves, parking herself at a table, and just sitting there doing nothing but reading.

That was what she was doing until she started this transmission. So if you'll excuse her, she will push aside a towering stack of records before smiling widely; for someone who was pining for her sisters several days ago, she's exceedingly chipper. And today, she is wearing her ship uniform; paper clothes can be uncomfortable, after all.]

Hello again! I've been thinking - do we give newcomers a tour of the ship? I think it would be very useful to have one, since this is a very, very big ship.

[She glances at the console not far from her, rests her chin on her hand, and pinches her cheek with her free hand. The smile is replaced by a look of longing.]

Oh, and if any of you have real books with actual covers and paper pages, may I please borrow them? I miss real books. I miss turning pages, the smell of new books, actually holding one in your hand... [Michelle lets go of her cheek, raises her head, and looks at her stack.]

I promise I'll return them, but I might borrow them again.

[OOC: Again, fourth wall permissions post for book characters!]

Umm, hi. I'm Thrice, from Earth, and I was thinking that, well, back home, I teach, well, I mostly research, but I also dabble in information-theoretics and OTPs like See-Spring and t...this is going poorly.

[He makes a bit of a hand-flappery gesture before continuing.]

If you're not from a time or place or have a lot of experience with computers and encryption, I'd be happy to meet you, walk you through the basics, and help you learn how to encrypt your messages.