I've made some sticks.

[ The video begins as if in mid conversation, because hey, we're all friends, here. Hawke's voice is audible as the speaker, but the feed is pointed downwards, where a cluster of -- indeed -- sticks are gathered on the ground. Or rather, roughly crafted staves. A sense of scale gives the impression that they're at least five to six foot in length, trimmed and mostly polished smooth, ends blunted. The video doesn't move from this view throughout. ]

They're for hitting one another with, although allegedly, some skill goes into it. Not fancy, when compared to your amazing thunder blast wands [ he knows they're called 'guns', probably ] but at least they don't run out of anything. If you'd like to learn how to hit things with sticks really well, I'll be practicing west of camp. We can have a go at each other. It'll be fun.

[ Definitely for Hawke, anyway. ]

This is Eiri Yuki.

[A brief pause.]

So look.

[The voice on the feed is deep and smooth, and sounds more than a little irritated despite the fact that nothing is really even going on to irritate him.]

Normally, I'm not exactly what you'd call a host, but this is a unique situation.

You could say I overreacted the other day. Got really upset about something and cooked a bunch of food I don't need to cheer up. And obviously I only have one stomach. If anyone wants to come get some, they can have whatever. I made some breads, cookies, things like that. None of it needs refrigerated.

I'm on floor three, room 50 right now. I move around a lot, but I'll stay here for long enough to offload some of this shit. I'm not a damn catering service, so what am I gonna do with it otherwise?


[even the sound of the feed disconnecting sounds grumpy]

This is really bad! This is serious!!

[look how damn serious he is to match the seriousness of this situation]

Everyone's not feeling good, and it's 'cus of this — this stupid ship! Sometimes it makes me so mad...! But we gotta do something 'bout it so you don't get anymore hurting heads and bloody noses. We gotta work together!! Like a team! We always gotta stick together like a team! And I'm gonna help as much as I can; it's like a mission, a real important one, and I'm your team mate, and I'm not gonna let you get hurt anymore than you gotta! So I accept my new job...! I will find you!!

I'm gonna hug everyone who needs the hugs!

[YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING GAME]

We're losing people.

[It's not a good opener. Tyke's in the SEC office, the central screen standing as backdrop behind her, but her expression doesn't seem as sharp as it usually is for these announcements. The slight pinch in her brow isn't unusual, but there's a slightly cloudy quality to her eyes that doesn't dissipate as she continues talking.]

There's less people at the jumps. Our overall population's getting smaller. You'd think we'd be getting bigger over time, not this.

[Her frown deepens for a moment, and she takes a breath. Seems to pull herself up straighter, words coming stronger.]

My name's Tyke, and I'm head of security. Anyone that hasn't heard it before: security's here for your safety. Things here are gonna try to kill you or fuck with your head. We wanna make sure that doesn't happen.

One way you're gonna help on that is by sticking together. Move down to the first ten floors. Join a department. They maintain the basic functions of the ship around you, and they're all fucking understaffed. Don't let any of this shit make you think we've gotta turn on each other.

[Pain twists her expression sharply, suddenly, has her leaning forward slightly, a thin trickle of blood running down from her nose. She wipes it almost immediately, red smearing on her face and the back of her hand. She glares at it, irritation and frustration palatable, snarling in her voice.]

Is anyone else getting these fucking headaches?

[Your greeting this month is a soft spoken creepy Japanese girl. Who is being very formal.]

Greetings, my name is Ai Enma and I represent the Support Staff on the ship this month. For any newcomers the ship is called the Tranquility, we do not know why or how you or we are here but the Support Staff is willing to answer any questions you have to the best of our abilities.

You are not dead and this is not Hell. You should also think about getting a room on floors 1 to 10 because they are the only ones patrolled by security. Do not abuse the complaint box and do not go too far into the hallways, there are monsters there.


[Text 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.

[ It's taken her a while, but her meetings with people have finally made her curious enough to ask. ]

I was wondering how many people here are from or familiar with Thedas.

[ And for those that are... ] And where you might be from within it.

Also. Um. Lady Galadriel, it's late, but I wanted to thank you for your suggestion. The garden was... a good place for him.

[ Home vs. the Tranquility is an obvious choice for most people. For the ones from somewhere particularly awful, the ship's the better option; and for some, there isn't much of an option at all.

Fitz had spent several months thinking he was part of the latter group. He'd thought home meant certain death, so he should appreciate cheating it while he had the chance. Since that had been proven wrong, home had resumed being the obvious choice, despite all its complications — but now Jemma's here, and things are somehow better than they'd been back at the Playground. Add to that a friendly research team offering help to the passengers of the TQ, and the end result is dwelling on questions he probably shouldn't be.

And a broad question for the network, minus much context. ]

Whenever the ship's docked somewhere, it's been too dangerous to stay. But if it wasn't, or if you could get off the ship without going home, would you? If it were possible to go somewhere safe. Different, and not home, but safe.

[When the picture slides into focus, it will be obvious to some of the passengers where this place is; considerably less so to others. The SEC office, fortunately, isn't the Tranquility's hottest vacation spot.

Head of Security, Tyke, sits in front of the comm device which is probably about expected.

However, William Tsang, the (erstwhile) Chief Medical Officer, sitting beside her is probably a little weird, especially given he's ash white and looks like he's about to throw up all over the camera. That isn't usually what guys with supernatural regeneration do. His hair has grown out raggedly in the past month, but he could look more disheveled or disoriented. He looks straight at the lens, is clear-eyed enough, when he says:] Hello.

I've got a confession to make. The clusterfuck last cycle, people attacking each other, was my powers going out of control. It was most likely a function of recon syndrome, which amplified my abilities far beyond their usual scope, as well as eroding my control under stress. I'm sorry for all of it. Fortunately, Xenogen and Security have got notions for future prevention.

[Tyke rarely looks content to be in front of a camera, and all through William's talking, there's a pinch growing sharper between her brows - but when she speaks, her voice stays level and certain.]

We're gonna be keeping him under regular observation, done by those with the abilities to recognise and control any further abnormalities in his powers. If anything like the last incident looks like it's gonna start, we'll take the measures necessary to stop it. [Whatever measures those may turn out to be. There's a pause, the line of her mouth pressing hard, almost as if she's already expecting some particular kind of response to the next statement.] Containment and distance have no effect, and he's been determined not to be an immediate threat. He'll be released at the end of this broadcast.

I'm going to be stepping down from Chief Medical Officer and away from Medical Bay, [William adds. A beat. Despite that the statement is weighty enough to seem to demand an explanation, all he can think of is ‘duh,' so he doesn't.] Authority there defaults to Granny Weatherwax until or unless she defers to someone else. If anyone's got questions, I'll answer them as well as I can. Thanks for your attention.

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.]

[Video clicks on, and lo, it is a pink faced young man, sitting in a nest of fabric in one of the empty cabins. He hasn't bothered to introduce himself on the network (he's used to just being known), and he's not personalized the cabin at all, just found an empty one and nested there.]

I have watched the winter festival celebrated each year, every year, for as long as I can recall. There is ceremony, there is song, and there is sacrifice. It is curious to me, that you celebrate the winter festivals here, although there is no snow or frost... [Curious, perhaps, but Shrieky looks quietly content, as though he finds this tradition more pleasing than strange.] ...I have seen the decorations, the feasting, and the seed of the gods hangs in the hallway. I have seen your ceremony and heard your song.

So, what do you intend to sacrifice?

[And now his agenda emerges, because in the early years, before monotheism began to take hold back in his home, a certain amount of respect was paid to certain geographical sites. Certain trees. Certain mounds. A certain river which fed into a certain moat... Meaning that sometimes when there was a sacrifice...]

What do you intend to sacrifice, and will I be getting any?

[Hannah has learned, accidentally or experimentally, appropriate camera distance. Look, it's her whole face, complete with big hair, and those long pointy ears. She--not quite grins, but, well, she looks amused, if not a bit smug.]

Separate of the whole bullshit kidnapping thing, these little faceboxes are fucking cool.

But, [she looks more critical now, kind of squinting] really seems like there's a ton of humans. Where's, you know, the rest of the world?

[Was she kidnapped to fill a quota or something? Because that's just awkward. Maybe they should throw her back and get a better elf.]

[ One Lily Potter shows up in-frame as soon as it focuses, for once not smiling but smirking just a little: it changes the plane of her face just like that. There's nothing really strange about the feed until she moves back: there in the background of the feed is one Remus J. Lupin laid out sweaty and graceless on the floor, though once he realizes he's visible he props up on his elbows to laugh. Before she speaks she reaches up to tie her hair back, glancing back at Remus before looking back to the camera. She looks a little sweaty and haggard maybe but otherwise fine: she was stressed and tired before, now she's exerted herself more. It's fine. There's still something lingering behind her eyes but it's hard to place what it is. ]
 
Hello, Tranquility.
 
[ Um. ]

Things have been a little stressful lately so it seemed like an idea to offer some contained and supervised sparring. Unfortunately I'm generally rubbish with physical combat—[ Felt pretty physical on my end Remus chimes in from the floor, only barely audible. It will be in a minute if you don't stop hamming it up Lily replies, sweet as anything while casually threatening a dude she lay out flat, before continuing. ]—but I was wondering if any other magic users were willing to give it a go. Nothing too intense, like I said, sparring, keep your skills in top shape.
 
I'm afraid I've already exhausted one taker. [ :) :) luv u Remus sorry she kicked ur butt ]
 
Anyway! We've overtaken a rec room on floor eleven so that we won't be in anyone's way or disturbing anyone. I'm medical staff so I can oversee if needed. We'll be here a bit, so feel free to stop by. Don't feel shy if you just want to watch, either.
 
Maybe it'll become a thing.

[ WIZARDS OUT. ]

So, uh... what's the done thing 'round here for smashing boredom in the face? 'cause I'm achin' for some shore leave but right now a hole in the head sounds more likely, no?

[ A pause - crackly because he's shifting his comms device against his Alliance shirt in contemplation... ]

Anybody up for a joint workout? I could use an extra pair of eyes to spot me.

[rikku is lying in her bunk, the comm propped up on some scrap of metal beside her because she's too busy playing with her garment grid to hold it herself. she looks thoughtful, and gently runs the pads of her fingers over the spheres locked into the grid. the five of them, each a different color (lighter shades of red, blue, yellow, etc.), seem to glow with some sort of inner light. it's a very, very faint glow, but it's still there.]

How many of y'all have magic in your worlds? Like, not that hocus pocus "pick a card, let me saw you in half, i've got a dove up my butt" sort of magic. I'm pretty sure almost everywhere has that kind of magic. But I mean real, true magic.

[a beat]

Well I guess "real" is kinda relative, considering how many different kinds of magic there could be, but I think you get the gist. And if you've got magic--is it something everyone can do? Or do they need training or some kinda help to use it?

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?

[It's familiar, a video from her number opening on the SEC offices. Her appearance is immediately notably different though: hair shorn to a buzz over her scalp, skin incredibly pale, black of her tattoos stark, and she looks like she's been losing sleep and weight for a while. None of that's surprising, considering how things have been going, and it's doubtful what she has to say will be either.]

Those of you that don't know already, I'm Tyke, head of security. I'd give you the regular spiel, but this isn't the time. The shit with the doors is getting worse. As far as we can tell it's getting all of them, lifts, departments, and it's hitting comms too.

[Which might make it a matter of luck if enough people even see this, but she has to try.]

If you're moving around the ship, you need to be prepared. Stay in groups. Carry rations and water with you. Contact the network if you get trapped - don't try individual numbers, some messages are getting redirected or not getting through.

[There's a pause, almost like she might be done, but she looks undecided, a frown pinching her brow. After a moment she takes a breath, something even grimmer in her expression as she continues.]

But we need to be more prepared than that. I'm advising everyone get down to medbay, if you're not working on this. We're approximately a week out on the jump. [A beat. She doesn't really want to spell out how bad this could be.] You need to know what happens if we're locked out of medical when it comes, there are recordings.

[Not a nice place to end a message, and it's noticeably abrupt, the way she reaches to cut the feed.]

[The feed opens on Tyke in the SEC offices. Her expression's set steady, only some thin sharpness at the edges betraying any strain. Mostly she just seems busy and pissed off.]

This is Tyke, head of Security. Most of you will be aware of the situation. We've got seventeen people reported missing in the ship, approximately seven that have followed in the last two days. I'm not gonna stop any of you trying to go after them, but you go prepared, and you don't go alone.

We're putting together supply packs. Come down to the SEC office, floor 001, pick one up. We can arm you if you don't have any weapons, and put you in teams if you're on your own. [A beat.] Got four hours before I take SEC out.

[A deadline for anyone joining them or coming to get packs. She almost looks like she's done there, but seems to reconsider.]

Don't listen to anything you hear out there. Watch each other's backs. Want as many of us coming back from this shit as possible.

[Including the missing.]