I've been practicing pretty hard!!

[HEY GUYS WHAT IS UP. Takeshi is looking far more cheery than his last entry had been around here, his hands into excitable little fists.]

We're gonna be the best team ever! This is so great; we're gonna be heroes like this, and we'll work together, and... I made stuff from my old house with my head — really!! Really, I did! I made a chair, and I made a... a lamp! And I made the TV — it... it didn't turn on or nothin', and it goed — it went away like all the other stuff from my head... but it was a TV! 

[He is super stoked about this power business. He's likely been terrorizing the people who stay in the gardens with it. Tragically.]

We should get connected more! If I don't know you! So we can share pictures in our heads. And words! 

Watch — look at this, look, I can show people pictures!

[He closes his eyes, putting his hands on his head in deep concentration. Anyone who is around Takeshi enough to have one of those connections — someone he's bumped into, someone he finds his friend, someone deserving of teamwork — will get the very brief flash of memory through Takeshi's eyes. It's only just him back in his world, crouched down in someone's dirt patch that is supposed to be a garden; he's playing with two mangled-up action figures, the paint scraped off in random places. 'Pow, pow, pow! Don't run from Muscle Rider — you can't get away!! Villain!'

Then the memory flickers out. Takeshi breathes out deeply, rosy-cheeked but proud.]

That's... that's all I'm good at so far... so — we should practice...!

[RIGHT MOM, RIGHT. LET'S PRACTICE BEING COOL POWERED PEOPLE KAY.]

[Being from the second jump, Heather's been dealing with this headache bullshit for a longer than she'd like. Consequently, she looks like crap - if crap that's had an idea it's really excited about. Red eyes accentuated by dark rings, a smear from a nosebleed that got a very cursory cleanup (because who cares when you're only going to have another in half an hour?), and a jittery sort of energy that belies her tiredness.]

Anybody remember Mattie Ross? Cool kid. Braids, hat, very serious. She tried this thing when she was here with setting up a school and I figured - seems like there are more kids around now than there have been in a while, maybe it's time we start that up again?

I helped out last time. It was good. Thing is, I don't know anything about teaching and I have a pretty limited skill set. I'm gonna need a lot of help. And what I was thinking is we could set it up so it's relevant to here. Give the kids a grounding in the skills we need here, so like - I'm in agricultural, I can give a crash course in how to keep things running so we can all keep breathing. And maybe someone from medical can come and teach basic first aid, someone from security to show 'em what to do when everything gets all dangerous the way it likes to.

I know there's a lot going on. Headaches and blood and voids and people from off the ship. I figure that just means it's more important than ever that everyone knows how to take care of themselves. So let me know if you feel like you could help make this work. Or hell, if you wanna come and you've got ideas about how we should do it. Don't let the grownups set all the rules, that's like a guaranteed bad time, right?

"Recently, you've all been told that there is a traitor.

"So you should probably know what it was I did."

[She pauses, searching for the words while she lets that sink in for a heavy moment. One might note that her tones are different; she doesn't sound like her usual robotic self when she speaks. Quite the opposite, actually. Rey sounds almost like-human. In her own way, you could say that this her one big "fuck you" to Smiley. You think she wouldn't tell everyone? Well, now she is. Full disclosure. So there.]

"I entered the dark corridors shortly after the DUPRR crew had docked the ship. Before long it became apparent that the things infesting the hallways weren't approaching me with any hostility. Because they weren't attacking, I was able to reach the secondary shuttle bay more or less without much incident. During that trek I made an effort to avoid others, not knowing the extent of the compulsion and whether it would also drive me to harm anyone who stood in the way." [Well, it's mostly the truth she speaks. You're welcome, William.]

"All that remained was the DUPRR pilot, Neson. Needing his trust, I tricked him into coming with me by pretending to be a person who was trustworthy. It's something I've become rather good at, actually -- pretending to be someone else, much like how I am right now. Despite the fact that something wanted me to kill this man, I decided to will against it.

"It didn't work as intended.

"Instead, I took him to the White Room. I opened the door. And I led him through.

"He's likely still in there right now, where it's kept him."

[She stops, still dizzied from the jump. The more she speaks, the more hoarse her voice gets. She hasn't been using it that much lately, and it's clear from her shadowed eyes and worn features that she's been neglecting more than just sharing this information.]

"Apparently, doing this has-- 'stopped the clock', whatever that means.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

ok, a few questions.

1) Do you dream when you're stuck in those tubes the whole month?
2) Is everyone okay from that whole monsters coming out of the corridors thing?
3) Who gave me that plant thing? Because it's really cool. Thank you.

Doggy playtime is therapeutic! Stop by the Oxygen Gardens for some time with Hudson!

[And, true to his word, he'll be in the Oxygen Gardens with Hudson, his German Shepherd, playing with him. Action is fine, as is network stuff!]

[John turns on voice because he looks too much like a wreck to turn it on video. He's fine. His voice doesn't even sound too bad.]

I'm alive. Dealing with shit. Not the point of this.

I'm struggling with nightmares and insomnia. If someone would be willing to help me with that, I can pay you back somehow.

I also need some clothes patched up, if anyone's good at sewing.

[He's about to leave it like that, just quick and business-like, but he sighs, continuing.] You know, my mom was a good person. So was my dad. He was a cop, and he always fought for justice and the right thing, and he's the reason I'm a cop myself. Sometimes whoever or whatever's in charge gives us horrible things in our lockers. But sometimes... sometimes, it leaves nice things.

[He flips on video for a second, and all that's visible are his fingers holding up a photo. The photo has a woman and a man with a small boy, all smiling. Yes, that's John's family. And yes, John looked like a dork as a child. His hands move a little, but just to turn it back to voice.] Tell me about your families, if you'd like.

[There is a small girl looking at you from the video screen ship. She still looks a little sad, like she's been crying recently but ignore that. She has important things to say.]

Hi,  my name's Newt.  This is my second jump but I didn't get to introduce myself last time.  I thought people should know that Ripley went home. She was my friend so I'm going to be looking after her cat for her until I see her again. His name is Jones and he's very important.

Also when the monsters were attacking last time I saw one from home. If there's any eggs left, you have to be careful because they'll jump out and on your face and then you'll die when they're born in your chest. Fire works best for getting rid of them before they get at you. If you get too many of them they'll take over the ship and kill everyone. And we don't have anywhere to run to.

[England clears his throat. This is his first video broadcast across the network, and he wants to avoid an embarrassing situation like his mistaking the text function for a telegram the first time.]

Right. Yes. This feels oddly informal but if that's what's done--

--I'll be brief and to the point: I've got two questions.

First, could anyone from Earth who's lived through the twentieth century tell me of its history? Ah, the version of Earth where the British Empire exists. I would like to know how the world changes in the next hundred years. It doesn't matter when or where you're from, I'm just very interested.

My second question is addressed to the users of magic on board the Tranquility. Sorcerers, witches, wizards, healers, mages; whatever you are, how does magic work in your world? What sort of spells do you use? Runes? Talismans? Perhaps a proxy via a familiar or even technology? I've been practicing magic for as long as I've been alive--that's over fifteen hundred years--but one can never learn too much.

--Ah, I'm rambling. Excuse me... [He straightens his shoulders, tilting his nose up to be as dignified as possible.]

At any rate, I've one more announcement: I'm willing to trade tealeaves for sewing supplies, or anything else. Especially alcohol.

[Arthur pauses, not sure how to end the feed, but he just decides on something simple.]

Thank you.




[*edit/ooc: I'm aware of what he's asking. Bring on the temporal spoilers.]

Hullo, welcome to the Tranquility. [ Your welcome wagon is a tired-looking but pleasant Welshman. ] First things: we don't know precisely how you got here, we can't send you home, and you're probably not dead.

Second things: if you're injured or sick, talk to Medical. If you eat people or have other special needs, talk to Xenogen. If you need cigarettes, go beg Agriculture for work. [ He's reading all these ifs off a list, rote and sing-song, but now that he's reached the last bullet point he looks up and smiles, sort of. Still tired-looking. ] If you ignored all the graffiti warnings about living above the tenth floor, please note that in the event of an emergency, no one will be there to help you.

Any other questions or concerns, ask here or come by the Support office, and we'll do what we can. [ He's already moving to shut off the feed, but he pauses long enough to add, ] I know it's a lot, but it'll be all right.

[ ATTACHMENT: ]

THE RUNDOWN » What happened, where you are, what to do.
SUPPORT DEPARTMENT INFO » Who we are and what we do.
REFERENCE* » Basic facts about the ship and solar system.
A TIMELINE OF EVENTS » This will take time to read thoroughly, but we strongly recommend it.
FAQ » Please read this before asking a question on the network.
SPACE TRAINING » If this is your first time aboard a space ship, please watch these helpful videos.
LOOKING FOR WORK? » If you have any questions about the departments, track down a chief officer or someone who operates within it about recruitment.
COMPLAINT BOX » Need to get something off your chest? Bring it here. We might just be able to do something about it.

[ Again with a small wall of text, though this time there's no obvious indication that it's meant as an Engineering PSA. It shows up roughly 24 hours after Annie's warning about the strange noises in the corridors. ]

Re: the creepy sounds in the hallways.

Sent a few volunteers out into the darker corridors to record video and audio (cheers Raven, Sirius & Murphy), along with Grumpy and Sneezy.

[ Context would probably be useful on the last two, but either he doesn't think of it or doesn't care enough to add it. ]

Not sure whether this is reassuring or not, but analysis of the recordings didn't find much. The sounds appear to be inanimate/non-biological in origin. Grumpy didn't pick anything up in the way of human voices or otherwise obvious signs of life forms.

The noises are a bit like what you'd get from a house settling, just on a much larger scale. That said, it's probably advised that you don't go wandering off into the dark, as per usual.

The lights coming on don't appear to be related to any movement, either, but more a methodical rebooting of basic systems. Unexpected, but nothing particularly alarming on the Engineering side of things just yet.

That's about all we've got, but if you've got any questions, let us know.

[Elsa looks and sounds much better than she did the last time she addressed the network. Her pale blue dress has a low neckline, and it sparkles. Her blonde braid trails over her shoulder. Her eyes are bright and not red-rimmed. She’s serene and seems relatively friendly, and her voice is low and crisp.]

Hello, everyone.

I never traveled much when I was a little girl. My father had a big library, and I liked books, so I would look at them and see the engravings of different places, but I never thought I’d be able to visit any of the places in the pictures. To tell the truth, I still haven’t.

I’ve heard that some people think we might not be here on this ship much longer. While we’re still here, I want to use the -- the holodecks, the rooms that change into different places, to see some of the things I haven’t seen before. I’ve gotten them to work, and they were new to me, so it’s not that they’re hard to use. It’s that I’m not sure what I should look at.

I was hoping some of you would be willing to give me some advice. What’s your home like, or your favorite place? Can you describe it, so I’ll know what it’s like if I find something like it in the holodeck? Or is there a place in the holodeck that you recommend... one of the choices they offer? Something I shouldn’t miss?

I want to see everything I can while I have the chance.

[A small smile breaks through: nervous, irrepressible, with the corners of her closed mouth pushing up.]

Thank you.

[The video doesn't take long to focus on the woman's face. At most, there are angle adjustments, but it appears asking questions and requesting assistance has boded well for her in regards to this particular set of technology. Her brow remains furrowed until she sees things working the way she was told. With slow ease, she gives a faint smile, her tone serious yet gentle with her French Orlesian accent.]

I thought it best that I thank those who have provided assistance over the past few weeks. I am certain my concerns were not the only questions answered and I appreciate the help provided.

That being said, I thought it best I return the favor. I'm Evangeline de Brassard. While present, I intend to assist with the security here. Although I admit, I am still learning of this place, I do intend to help however I can.

[She pauses although it isn't a very long-lived debate on whether or not to continue.]

I've also heard there are others from Thedas here. I've already spoken with a few of you, but would like to know how many others may be present. I am a templar and I realize that may be a concern to some, but I'd rather you address it with me directly if that should be the case.

[Considering current events as they were, she's well aware Templars and mages aren't exactly in the best standing with the public and since she has no idea who that public may be here, it is better safe than sorry. She'd prefer to get that mess out of the way, if there's any mess to begin with.

There's another short pause and thought but she comes up empty handed. This is enough for now, hopefully.]

Thank you.

[And she'll end things there.]



[OOC: So winging the security part a weeee bit. But assume she's on a patrol soon in some hallway or 'nother, in case anyone wants to Action comment instead of communicator stuff. \o/]

[sophie is holding the comm too close to her face, so it isn't all visible at once--it's a pair of pale eyes, a mass of dark hair, the sort of sharp cheekbones acquired from poor diet. the camera wobbles and then settles into place just far enough away to get her entire face, and the glimpse of a dark room behind her. the only light in the room is coming entirely from the comm. when she speaks, her accent is lilting and her voice is low.]

So I have discovered that the light comes from lightning channeled through metal wires in the walls. [that might explain the darkness around her.] Which is quite clever, truly. But it doesn't answer my question of how technology differs from sorcery, except in that people seem to believe in one or the other. Is technology simply an aspect of sorcery that has not yet been discovered where I am from? While difficult to believe, I suppose even my father could not have known everything.

[a pause, and she pushes her hair back from her face. it's clearly a nervous gesture.]

Also, how many of you have come here alone? It seems many are in familiar company with others from their homes, but I believe I have arrived unaccompanied. Not that this is an unusual situation, but still...

...Groeneveldts?

[Someone's bored, sitting in one of the kitchens (on a counter in fact) and just looking bored. So she grabs her communicator and flicks it on.]

I have been here for some time now and I have realized that I really do not know so many people as I would like. And so many of you here are Secondborn- ah, humans. So I have a few questions.

[She smiles pleasantly enough but-]

Does having round ears affect your hearing?

My people consider long hair important, a standard for beauty. Many of you do not have long hair, what do you consider beautiful if not that? I know that dwarves find beards beautiful but most of you are bare-faced.

And your lives are so short. Is that why most seem in such a rush? Is that why you cannot hear the trees or animals? You are in too much of a rush to listen?

[Lúthien no.]

[At first he'll be wondering how to dictate to this strange little device, how to use and get the most out of it. Simply asking how was out of the question! And Arthur, being a stubborn clod, was absolutely determined to figure out how to use and manipulate this curious box.

Somehow he could receive messages on it-- via text of course, that was no shock, and neither was recorded sound played back (although the quality was truly a marvel to Arthur's ears)--but high quality moving pictures in perfect sync with great sound...! He just had to make his own broadcast for his own pride's sake, lest he feel dreadfully outstripped by the many others who seemed so accustomed to this technology.



In all his excitement as he paces outside the graciously and impossibly growing gardens, Arthur forgets to look through the other messages; so eager to learn this thing and send a message of his own.

So. His formatting, while it makes all sorts of sense to him...? It may not to others...

He formats it not unlike a telegram. Go with what you know, right?]

UNKNOWN LOCATION, FAR FROM EARTH ADRIFT IN HEAVENS

FEBRUARY ? ? 1898


FIRST PERSONAL MESSAGE WRITTEN FROM BEYOND EARTH ORBIT
EXCITING TIME TO BE ALIVE
LACK OF CONTACT WITH EARTH IS A SHAME
POLITE REQUEST FOR CONTACT WITH OTHERS FROM SAME CENTURY
THANK YOU


ARTHUR KIRKLAND

[He's so proud of this message when it's sent that he puffs up like a self-important bird and doesn't even think it may have been rude to be typing so intently in public. He will, however, greet anyone if they choose to speak to him. He's difficult to miss in his waistcoat and polished leather shoes.]

All this nonsense about the future.... Now if I could just get back home and bring this device with me...

[Shepard looks terse, just a little short tempered. She has bigger fish to fry right now, but taking the occasional potshot? Sure, there's time in the day for that.]

I know it feels a little warmer in here, [south of the equator natives holla!] but are we really thinking it's Christmas? As far as I knew, we're pretty scattered across the board when it comes to our personal timelines and it's not like anyone's counting how long we're in stasis during the jump.

I'm calling it now: it's really new Armistice Day. I know most of you don't know anything about the First Contact War, but I hope you'll take this opportunity to remember those who fought for you in whatever universe you come from.

[Talilock, encrypted like whoa]
Garrus, I have a job for you.

[The feed begins with a sigh from England's end. Though he can't be seen, he runs a hand through his hair, stretches his arms out, feels several pops in his spine and wonders when his bones will really creak like France's or like, God forbid, China's.]

Didn't realise I'd have a new iPhone upgrade so soon or, dunno... find myself on this bloody ship.

I-- I'm not really one for blogging or regular broadcasts as if I need validation by them; not, ah, not that there's anything wrong with blogging or broadcasting regularly, it's just not for me.

[Having gotten that awkward gem out of the way, England clears his throat.]

At... at any rate, I suppose introductions are in order unless of course we've already met. Waking in a gravity couch is no excuse for poor etiquette! There's a lot of things that aren't an excuse for bad manners, really...

I'm here now and I'll have to make the best of it, that's all.