[ Behold, Lucrezia in pale pink dress and an elaborated braid in the first video broadcast since her arrival. By the looks of it, she is in one of the lounges, a few books in her lap. They look used, little notes scribbled at the edges of each page. She will read one. ]

I am, I confess, a sinner, but one who, far from weeping for her sins, weeps only for her lover; far from abhorring her crimes, longs only to add to them; and who, with a weakness unbecoming my state, please myself continually with the remembrance of past delights when it is impossible to renew them.

[ a pause. ]

Heloise and Abelard were truly doomed. But better doomed and loved than safe and lonely.

(  Private to close CR and friends  )

Gonna start a plot of tobacco in the Gardens. Cure it somewhere else. You want a cut, you gotta help or pay up.

Rest of you fuckers stay away from it.


{PRIVATE TO TOSHIKO:}

Couple-a people said I should talk to ya. Lock this.

[Bossy much?]

[ A dark corridor, incredibly low light and clearly not quite on the beaten path. The camera is steady, and something dark moves soundlessly into view. The cape that sways across the corridor is ink black, like shadow moving rather than fabric. An arm moves out of the bulk of the shadow, holding a long tube, and then there's a hiss, air rushing through a narrow space, a semi-phosphorescent, clearly chemical paint sprayed onto the blank surface. The symbol glows as the hiss stops, and Batman pivots on the spot to face the recording device. His outfit is so dark that the whites of his eyes are the brightest point, catching in the pathetic light generated by the device. ]

Remember. I am always watching.

[ He raises his hand again, and a small red light is briefly visible before the device turns off all on its own. ]



[ OOC: The bat signal will be appearing/have appeared in all sorts of places, but particularly the less familiar parts of the ship. Bruce has spent months now orientating himself and learning how to come and go without being seen. Just as a warning: Batman may not be very talkative, might not respond at all and is likely to end any given conversation abruptly. That's just how he is. Also he means it. He's always watching. Fourth walling is on a case by case basis, and people who know his secret identity, you douches can keep it to yourselves, otherwise I won't be responsible for what I might let Dexter do to you. ]

[ This is a video feed of some dark-haired guy who really likes to look at himself or something like that. It's kinda myspace-youtube self-webcam style up in here. ]

Does anyone know where this spaceship is heading? I'm just kind of curious and all since it doesn't look we we could just get off wherever we want to. It's just something worth knowing. Thanks.

[ He pauses like he's gonna turn the feed off before suddenly remembering some other stuff that he wants to say. ]

Oh yeah, I know I can't be the only guy who's realized this, but there are a lot of people here like they just stepped out of the movies or comics or cartoons or whatever. It's totally awesome, and I hope you guys won't mind me asking for autographs even if you aren't actors. Might be even better, actually, if you're all the real deal.

[ And again, right here, ready to turn it off. Whoops, just remembered something else. ]

PS: Hey, Dave. I ran into the Indonesian mobster you stole a pound of weed from. He's challenging you to a mudwrestling match, and the winner gets a Russian mail-order bride. Call me. Oh, and does anyone know if there's a way to set up a voicemail on these things?

[ >> END.

ooc: Fourth-wall opt-out is here, responses to come later. ]

[ Well, hey TQ, hope you don't mind this fresh face on the network. She normally sticks to texting because if it looks like a phone and acts like a (kind of sci-fi upgraded) phone, why not use it like one? But she's been going through the other features — slow day on the ship, you know how it is — and after rifling through everything she can easily find on the communicator, she decides to post up a video.

So here's a young, teenaged girl setting the comm in front of her before she sits down cross-legged and twirls a lock of her hair. Alas, it's got less of a bounce than it normally does, but that's what lack of hot rollers on a ship will do. ]

If I write my best essay and promise to stay on my best behavior after, am I allowed to leave Space Detention? I mean, I haven't even gotten to mess around in a library, so this kind of blows.

[ she smiles because she's kind of hoping someone will catch the reference. If not, then well: ] Or are we all waiting for some big, space musical number?

Are there even any boomboxes to hold up outside that red smiley thing's window? If it has one. [ seriously, what is up with that thing. ] Also, I guess it'd have to be this phone thing, since I don't have an iPod anymore.

[ She lets out a very put upon sigh before admitting something you never would have guessed!! clearly!! But it's followed by a smile that's all teeth and too much eyelash batting. ]

Okay, so I'm bored. And I can't really miss anyone who left, since I just got here. [ not even touching whatever's up with the masks. ] You'd think the aliens would be able to hook us up with better movie selections or something.

I don't suppose there's someone on here with something entertaining to do?

[ The feed starts with a girl's comms device clanging to the floor from her bed hitting the "on" switch, unknowingly cast aside. She'd been surfing it earlier, trying to get a feel for the thing, but after hearing Darth Vader II's little message about "not being able to wait to see what they'd do next", she knew she had to get serious about leaving (not that she wasn't before... but...). Four days was more than long enough to be stuck on what basically amounted to the ship from "Aliens". ]

—this is getting into Avengers and Fantastic Four territory. . .

[ The scene is simple enough (from what you can see from a device on the floor, of course). The girl appears to be lost in thought, holding a staff.

This was way out of her jurisdiction. She had someone else to worry about. ]

Let's see. . .

[ and with maybe just a little bit of fanfare. . . ]

No place like home!

[ a cloud of smoke briefly obscures the room, before revealing...

The girl still standing there, only now she seems to be wearing a pair of ruby slippers. ]

Ok... so that one was a bust...

[ but she's not done yet ]

Earthward bound!

[ Again, what looks like smoke covers the room, and there's... an earth-shaped ball bouncing around the room.

She glares at her staff. ]

I didn't use a single one of these spells. Work, you p—

[ and the ball bounces on top of the comms device, conveniently ending the feed. ]

Tranquility.

[ The greeting comes from a woman who is longing about in a chair, all heels, business wear and red lips. She looks calm or at least, calm enough given the situation. There is a smile on her lips, as if this amuses her on a certain level.

But if her smile is silk her eyes are steel. ]

Quite a predicament, this is. My arrival seemed to be in tune with the message from our -

[ a faux! pensive pause ]

-- Graceful companion.

I will not ask of how one leaves or why are we here, as I have no intention to waste your time or my own. I will make one inquiry.

[ her voice turns strict, as if she is used to be making inquiries. ]

I am in search of a child. His name is Henry Mills, he is ten years old. If there is such a passenger aboard this ship, I would have him sent to me, I am his mother.

[ a pause; and then, another. ]

I would also ask of the portal through which we came here. I know all gain consciousness in what you call the couches. I mean to ask if we have knowledge of the portal through which we are transferred into the couches.

[ another smile, almost pleasant this time. ]

Much obliged.

[ and that would be all; there is a very limited amount of time in which Regina Mills can pretend to be nice. ]