[ there's a crackling stream of static in the video as it bursts in to life - Cambridge is attempting to do her usual technopathic shit by mentally logging in to the network but she's not really giving it her all. Probably on account of the fact that her attention is half-drawn by the fact she's having to bicker irritably with someone off-screen as she does so: ]

Do shut up - no, just shut your mouth, Justin Bieber, I am trying to transmit here, for the love of God--

[ the feed adjusts itself and Cambridge's face - petulant, frustrated and visibly worried - swims in to view. The backdrop to the feed is one of those hideously never-ending corridors and in the crook of her elbow is an over-sized black leather handbag containing one (1) cat. Which definitely doesn't belong to her. And she's largely ignoring. Guess who hates small furry creatures. ]

Listen here, all of you: for God's sake, don't go out in to the corridors. Evidently someone is playing silly buggers with the ship because it's certainly not making any sense. It's all rather ridiculous out here right now...

[ There's a quaver of fear in her voice that she quickly swallows in an effort to keep a stiff upper lip and SHOW NO FEAR etc etc. ]

Dearest Aberdeen - if you're not dead or sulking or what-have-you then I do believe I've found your horrid cat.

[ A quick shot of the newly-christened Cat the cat in Cambridge's handbag; needless to say this is not that particular Motherfucker. ]

If it survives this horrible door-less ordeal then someone had better take it off my hands before I turn it in to gloves.

[ The communications device is placed haphazardly. Perhaps on a shelf, but regardless the orientation makes it so that video is tilted in a less than pleasing manner. Sherlock and John are both in frame; entirely unaware that the video has them both captured. Sherlock is all jitters and small animations of tension. From the rhythmic taps of fingers to the trouser end of the jumpsuit to the quick paces back and forth in the gaps between John and Sherlock’s bed. ]

I was hoping for more concrete advice. [ A hint of seething; irritation; perhaps desperation. ] I was under the presumption that you had added space into your repertoire, John Three Continents Watson. [ More pacing; his expression turns legitimately confused ] Help me.

[ John sighs - he’s never living down that particular disclosure of information, is he? He rubs at his brow with his thumb, though his eyes follow Sherlock for some of the walk. The communicator in his own hands seems to have been forgotten for the moment. ]

What are you on about? Advice? What are you trying to do now?

I’m not helping you sweet-talk any more women into stealing you things.


( cut due to length. )

[[ OOC: HI GUYS FEEL FREE TO SPAM THIS POST WITH INAPPROPRIATE TERRIBLE DATING ADVICE FOR THE CONSULTING DETECTIVE. THIS GRATUITOUS DISPLAY OF BROMANCE HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY JULYA AND EFFY: BROMANTIC PRODUCTIONS. BLUE IS SHERLOCK, BROWN IS JOHN :D ]]

[ He'll casually be tapping the device; to check if this is on. The camera is moving, you can tell he's in one of the Lounges in the Holodecks. ]

Is it on? - Fuck, I'm usually really excellent at turning things on. I am not spending another 20 minutes rambling only to find it didn't record agai- oh, okay, there red dot. Good. Spot on. Bloody thing works.

[ Hello Tranquility, after a few more movements, he faces it towards himself. there's a rather chatty brown haired pretty boy grinning at the camera. ]

Hello there, Citizens of Starship Enterprise Registry 'We are fucked'. As much as I appreciate a good kidnapping - gelatinized kool aid too; didn't see that one comin' - I really was in the middle of something prett-tay important. Since there's a bunch of us joining you already rather large and zany bunch - I was wondering if the supernatural - actually - preternatural, let's be politically correct here, hold any meaning to any of you? Like what's the mystic to mortal ratio on this ship?

Any ghost busters references will be met with extreme sarcasm; or declarations of 'who ya gonna call?'

⎬⎬ OOC PERMISSIONS POST FOR SUPERNATURALS + POP CULTURE/4TH WALLIN

[ There is a very flat note of boredom in Oxford's voice, and the video is focused on his profile as he idly stares at the wall of his room, slouched in his seat. ]

Seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness, close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; conspiring with him how to load and bless with fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run... [ He trails off, looking momentarily rueful. ] It's no mystery as to why Keats and his many wonderful contemporaries chose to roam the countryside and marvel at the ever changing landscape. [ HUFFS. ] They weren't trapped on a spaceship where every corridor makes you wonder if you're merely wandering about in circles. There are only so many trips one can make to the oxygen garden before you start recognising individual leaves, for God's sake.

[ He finally sits up, with a quick, smooth movement, the subdued quality of his voice becoming suddenly more efficient and business-like as he looks squarely at the camera feed. ]

In the interests of quelling a certain sense of raging boredom that occasionally grips me - and others, I'm sure - I would like to propose a poker night. I imagine there must be a fair number of us who fancy themselves good with cards. [ He raises his brow curiously. ] Do I have any takers?

Well, looks like this is it. Go out of retirement, find myself in space.

Bunny's going to kill me...

[ Good afternoon, Tranquility. Those of you who have been here for more than one jump will recognize Dr. Robert Capa. He was one of the first faces on the Network following the incident that brought the first of the passengers here and it's very possible you've seen him around the ship. Now that Corazon has gone, he's become something of an off-again, on-again fixture in the oxygen garden. He is also one of the two astrophysicists that are part of the science team and can often be found in the company of the little girl named Chase or with his head down, doing calculations on a tablet from home. It's quite possible he's trained you — somewhat awkwardly — on some of the safety protocols of space travel.

If you're new, then this is an unfamiliar face, though it seemed to be all over the place on the day of the second jump. In the Medbay, in the locker room, checking names and running food to people going over the lists. Being awkward (this is an on-going theme).

When the video clicks on he gives something of a wince that, upon further reflection, is actually meant to be a very brief smile. Then a nod and then he speaks, his voice even and his tone matter-of-fact. He's not an automoton by any stretch of the imagination (his shoulders are far too slumpy for that) but the overall sense he gives off is one of calm. ]

I— [ Hm. ] I suppose, I should welcome all of our new passengers. I'm not really the part of the official welcoming crew and that's a good thing, trust me. But for those of you who have woken from stasis for the first time— [ An inhale, an audible exhale. ] —welcome.

I'm Doctor Robert Capa. Originally of the international space mission Icarus II. I serve as a physical science officer— here, on the Tranquility. Astrophysics, specifically. Now, I know a lot of you have questions. Questions that I'm sure Captain Ward and Chief Engineer Reznik would love to be able to answer. [ Okay, that might be a lie. ] There are those of us who are working to find those answers for you, but answers take time, so— A little patience and a little insight, if you have any, would be appreciated.

For some of you, this'll be your first time in space. I highly recommend you speak to me or to passenger Re-l Mayer, and we can see to getting you trained up. Nothing complicated — just the basics. [ A pause. Capa takes the opportunity to run a hand across his face, specifically his chin, the stubble scraping audibly there. ] One of the hardest things about being in space is the fact there is no night and day here. Your circadian rhythmns will be greatly affected if you don't take the time and the effort to regulate yourself.

Now, some of us— [ Capa lifts an arm to reveal a watch (analogue) around his wrist. ] —are used to a 24 hour solar cycle. Those of you who have watches, I suggest you maintain them, even if — technically — those particular patterns no longer have context or meaning. As it currently stands, those of us who do have watches have synchronized them for the sake of consistency. It's— it can be helpful.

For reference's sake— [ He looks down at his watch now, still speaking. ] It will be 4.27 in the afternoon in three. Two. One. [ When he looks up again, he nods once. ] Officer Spock, could you please open a secure channel for the following individuals? Capa out.

[ LOCKED FILE ATTACHED: INCIDENT_report.txt ]
( file contents. )

[ ENCRYPTED HAIL TO: WINCHESTER, DEAN. ]
( message to: WINCHESTER, dean. )

Hello? Is this contraption working? I -- ah, alright, it seems to be recording.

Do forgive me if I'm still a little confused, but you see, this is a little beyond my realm of expertise; and that, in itself is new to me! So, a question, if someone would be so kind...

Where am I, exactly?

[backdated to yesterday, by the by!]

[ oh hello, giant creepy spaceship. have a shiny, shiny smile directed your way. said shiny smile is attached to a freakishly put together looking gentleman. dapper, one might call him. ]

So... space, huh? [ neal adjusts his cuffs-- he's wearing a suit (a real suit: classic, 50's style devore, for any suit buffs) because fuck that jumpsuit crap right in the ear-- fussily, smile dropping wattage just a tiny bit. ] Does anyone want to catch me up a little more on that, out of curiosity? Because I have to admit, other than the bits and pieces I caught wandering around the first day I have no idea what's going on.

Anyway, come on. Help a new guy out, anybody? [ smile ratcheting up another few notches. aaaaaand HOLY CHARM BATMAN. doesn't everyone watching just want to drop everything and help? (yes. your answer is yes.) ] I'll owe you one.

[ DING ~ DING ~ DING; what kind of sound do the HIGHLY ADVANCED PA SYSTEMS EVEN MAKE OKAY? The sounds of ALAN RICKMAN and a thirteen year old cool kid grace your ears, Tranquility. Unfortunately this is over the PA Systems, and you can't unhear this drivel or set it to mute.

blue = sherlock
red = dave ]

I am not reciting the lines of your Earth's slam poetry, 'Bow Chika Wow Wow', David. The premise is ridiculous.

It's Dave. David is your bible-thumping cousin who lives with his mom, christ, and dude you literally just said it. Again, with feeling.

Yes, but we've been over this. I am not rapping out the rest of the song with you, or passing air through my mouth to make noises you deem as music.

I've told you it's called beatboxing and it's one of the finest arts known to mankind.

You wouldn't know fine art if Van Gogh hit you on the head with his missing ear.

If the dude's going around whacking kids with his own severed features then he's crazier than Art Attack made him out to be.

[ The sound of a face hitting a palm]

Welcome to Radio Free Tranquility, this is Dave the Rave and co-host: Sherlock Holmes. On the list of things I am not doing, appending myself with a superfluous title, Dave is under item twenty-two. Had you bothered to read my list- Shercock Homeboy.

( Your Announcements Behind the Cut )

[ We'll both be responding and tagging around! ]

Let’s keep this short and very freakin’ sweet-- [There’s nothing sweet about the expression Dean’s wearing, disorientation and confusion written plainly for all to see. He looks like he’s less than impressed with this being the second time he’s come out of a grav couch -tank of goddamn goo- feeling like he’s about to fall over his own mind with how clumsy it is.]

Again? Seriously?

Fine, I wasn’t hot on bein’ splattered across the walls like a bad imitation of Slimer but... come on.

[He shakes his head and finally rubs a palm over his face. When he looks back at the feed it’s with renewed distance back in his eyes. There are new people around. New people with the potential of bringing new items on to Tranquility:]

Anybody got beer? Come see me. I’ll make it worth your while.



[FILTERED TO THE “UNOFFICIAL” SECURITY GROUP > encryption 89%]

I’m thinkin’ maybe we should re-group. See what’s what. See if anythin’ has changed. There’s new people skulkin’ ‘round the ship.

[ The broadcast comes from the interior of the medbay - many will probably recognize the grav couches off to the side. There are three men here, among the machines vaguely resembling metallic stretchers, but one specifically speaking to the camera. ]

Good afternoon, Tranquility. I'm Doctor Watson, and these are my colleagues, Doctor Ratchet and Caleb. We're your medical staff for the time being.

As it happens, it's been about a week since we all woke up. I trust everyone is working to settle as best they can, given the circumstances. Us three have been working to familiarize ourselves with the equipment and inventory the stock so that we can help you with any medical needs.

What we need now, however, is to speak with anyone that may have special conditions to uphold so that we can best be prepared to treat you, should the need arise in the future. Primarily, we're looking for any non-humans aboard the ship to present themselves at this time. Secondarily, anyone that has the need for medication should come consult us to see if we have anything that can help. People with known medical conditions should at least report them to us - I'm speaking of allergies, heart conditions, diabetes, joint troubles, and etcetera.

We're open for check-ups for the rest of today and possibly tomorrow. Schedules beyond that will be subject to change, as we're still arranging to have someone in the medbay at all times. This is quite possibly your only chance to meet us all at once.

Those of you who are recently human: I have spoken with a few of you regarding the conditions you'll need to uphold, but I highly recommend every one of you to check in so that we can see that you're healthy. Don't make us come and find you.

That's all.

(( OOC: In this thread, you have the potential to be speaking to one or three med staff at once. ICly, all three of them are here and will be monitoring the feed/patients coming in, though you may only be actually threading with John. Ratchet!mun is here, but Caleb!mun is on hiatus and may respond little to none. There's no posting order. Open to action, text, and video! ))

[Good morning evening indeterminate-time-of-day, Tranquility! It's yet another vaguely informational post, because you all can't possibly be sick of those yet!

… oh. You are?

Welp, that's kind of unfortunate. Sorry. (On the bright side, the guy making this post is visibly shirtless. You're welcome.)]

So I'm just guessing everyone's noticed by now that all the lifts are color-coded—and that would be fine, if they had actual labels. Which they don't. If anyone's got any ideas which buttons lead to which departments, we might as well start keeping a list and stick it up on the network, just so we don't all get hopelessly lost.

I've got a few of them written down, but honestly, there's a lot of buttons, and I'm not that bored yet.

( list after the jump )

[ooc: the ooc list of labels is here, if anyone's curious. :3]

_{[ Hi Tranquility. Are you ready dor a mouthfull? Cause you're getting it. Feed clicks on to show America, apparently just out of his jumpsuit and in his boxers. He's just seated on his bed, hair tousled a bit, evidently not very concerned about his appearance even though he's addressing who knows how many people. He's too lazy to get up. He's eating out of a bag of chips that he found aboard the ship when exploring the facilities; that is what he spent all day doing.
Giving the communicator a bit of a salute, he says something incoherent with his mouth full before flashing a grin. ]}

HEEEEEY YOU GUYS. EVENING, DUDES, THIS IS YOUR HERO SPEAKING. GOT SOME IMPORTANT TO SAY. You better listen up, I've also got a surprise for you all! _{[ He adjusts his posture, throat clearing. ]}

Hahaha, righto! SO! If you are unfamiliar with EARTH, or whatever, I've been awesomely awesome as usual and drew myself a map for you dudes so you can understand the very, VERY, important things about the Earth I've graciously drawn out for you. Yeah, I'm a nice guy! Hahahaaha! So, here we go! It looks something like THIS, are you ready?? Tony, bro, if you will please!

_{[ A little grey alien jumps into view, holding up a piece of paper which looks like this: ]}

( Cut for stereotypes )

HAHAA. RIGHT, so that totally accurate cause I drew it! Everything circled is MINE, and I pointed out my dick cause it has the HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH! This is for you slackers that didn't pay attention to American geography class for whatever reason!! Hahaha, so! On the subject of my dick, _{[ pointing to the map as he say all of this ]} I'll just segway as to why THIS IS MY DICK. If you don't know what the shit I'm talking about, I'M GONNA EXPLAIN. _{[ A brief pause to stuff some chips in his mouth and he speaks, lips smacking before swallowing. ]}

( Cut for large-ass shitty explanation!! )

BORED!
Give me work. Give me problems.
My mind rebels against this stagnation.
Give me a puzzle. Or mystery.
Either will do.
Just. Give. Me. Something. To. Solve. Tranquility.
I need the mental stimulation before I result
to drinking the liquid from the grav pouches.

SH.


[ You get another text really shortly after the last one. ]


I would kill everyone of you for a cigarette. SH

[ Oh dear. That's rather a grumpy face on the other end of the feed. It's the face of a telepath with a pounding headache - not nearly as bad as he would have imagined, given the circumstances, but still rather bothersome, all the same. There is a great deal of exasperation in his voice as he speaks, as if he's a parent reprimanding an errant child that keeps making the same mistake over and over again. ]

I would like to state for the record that this "jumpsuit" is an absolute travesty. I have no intention of wearing it for extended periods of time- [ the bare shoulders visible in shot should be some indication of this ] -and God knows I am incredibly hopeful that in time it might be possible to find some alternative clothing that isn't nearly as criminal as this. I'm practically offended.

[ A brief pause, another faint wince as the headache throbs. ]

In any case, I suppose it was about time to make proper use of this little device. Good day, fellow captives, I hope you're all as delighted as I am by your existence upon this ship. My name is John Buchanan, but you may call me Oxford instead - it doesn't sound nearly quite as dull. [ He smiles, just a tad, and it's unclear why. Maybe at his little jab at his given name, maybe at something else. ]

Finally, a small request; if anyone has some ibuprofen, I'd be much obliged and indebted if they could perhaps share it before my skull cracks in half.