[Tate sounds excited, somewhere between shocked and amazed and horrified]

Holy shit. Guys- guys I know there's some serious shit going down right now, but did anyone else see the fucking alien in the grav chamber?

I saw that thing take some people out! Was that on the ship before? Does anyone know?


[ooc: anyone who doesn't know, he's talking about this.]

( Text; Not an IC Cut; HERE THERE BE MORSE CODE. )



So... I don't do Morse code, but who wants to bet that's the other part of the list?

[He told you he'd pull it off, Tony. OF COURSE, HE DIDN'T GET ANSWERS, but... Yeah.]



( Retroactively added to the post after the code was cracked: ZE LIST. )


[OOC; THE NAMES, TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE, ARE NOT PART OF THE CODE. They're just there for reference.]

thanks to a few pushes, no namedropping, i might as well get on board with keeping myself busy.
there's been a misconception that i was some sort of mobster who is sly enough to call myself "the pie maker", but i actually make pies. it's my living.

yeah, i know <blink>priorities<blink>
oh that doesn't work.

anyways, i'll be taking some pie orders to mellow things out.
emotionally or something along those lines.
please say if you are allergic to anything, thanks.

-Ned. ☺

no wait scratch that ignore the smile.

( FAILED LOCK --- � 005 � 068 CHARLOTTE ''CHUCK'' CHARLES )

 Okay, super freakin' urgent business right here. 

Who knows that pie-making Ned guy and where can I find him? Does he legit make pies, or is this some ironic mob nickname? If it's the latter, I'm probably going to need someone to make sure I don't end up whacked, sleeping with the fishes, or any other euphemism for DEATH BY MOBSTER!

Thanks for your time.

[A wild Sam Winchester appeared! He looks better off than last time, by far... currently, he's just a bit restless.]

Hey, uh-- Tranquility. [There's a weak smile, because it's bizarre addressing everyone on their space ship home. Space ship. Home.]

I was wondering what people usually end up doing in their free time here. Y'know, when they're not... dealing with hallucinations.

[He's referring to the fear gas, though he has quite enough delusions to deal with on his own, Thank You Very Much.]

Anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of jobs. Anything I can help out with, let me know.

[ Although she's not as bad as she's been the past few days, Wichita still looks pretty beat up and worn out. The fear gas kept her running most of the time, which meant crashing into things and falling down with the disorientation that came with it. She may or may not be hoping for some pathos points here, but it's an effortless attempt for it. She really does feel like shit. ]

I'm not even going to get into the what the hell was that factor of the past few days, but instead there's just one thing I've been wanting to ask, and haven't had a very good reason to until now:

-- If I say "zombie apocalypse", you say..?

Not trying to just stir the pot here, still just... trying to figure out why we're all here. What's their play. Whoever "they" is, I dunno. How many of us are from cookie-cutter happy worlds, and how many were dealing with ridiculous shit before they woke up in the tubes? Spill it.

... Oh, and um. [ sniff. ] If we've talked before? Let's do that again. Like, right now. [ check in with her you bastards. ]

[ ENCRYPTED 100% to NEAL CAFFREY ]
lxmwmaz, lxmwmaz. uayfo vm gnn, esawk. b'g d qnllxl fsa tjmcvx aho, kcjlg?
[ someone's using the program JARVIS hooked her up with~ the key is 'student' herderder. and here's that. ]

[THE FOLLOWING IS PUBLIC... But locked AGAINST Saunders, because really, the last thing he needs is her screeching about his lack of morals and being biased when he is... legitimately trying to help. :( And hack-proof, because DAMN THOSE HACKING SKILLS OF HERS. :|]

Okay. I've held off on this long enough. Five months is a long time for a genius to just sit on his butt and do nothing but Frankenstein bits of tech into nothing I can actually use, because I don't have the parts I need without taking apart something we might actually use one day- you're welcome, BTW.

We all just suffered a massive dose of some frakked up neurotoxin. It sent a signal to the brain to release an OD of Norepinephrine and good old, reliable Epinephrine that triggered an acute stress response, so everyone affected? Already scared out of their gourd. You've got elevated heartrate, constriction of blood vessels, the shakes, and a really intense desire to get out of Dodge. The brain is primed for fear responses, so when you add an hallucinogen to that little cocktail? You get exactly what your brains don't want to see.

And how do I know all of this? I'm a neurologist. Brains are my thing. I am very good at working out the kinkies in the human brain. So if we all want to put the kibosh in this kinda chaos before it gets out of hand when the inevitable next time rolls around? You need me in the med bay with... I guess explicit permission from our fearless leaders for me to futz with whatever short bus neuroplastic equipment happens to be there. [He sounds so unsure.] I bet this ship doesn't even have an MRI. Why would it even need one? [A long-suffering sigh] Good thing I'm a genius. I can work with anything- just say the word.

 [Hello, Tranquility. Here's Topher, recently exorcised and looking... Well, let's be real here. Topher looks like he got hit by a truck. His hair's messier than usual, he's ashen-faced, and there's a bandage around his left hand, which you can only just barely see because his hands are tucked tightly under his arms, like he's trying to pull himself into the smallest possible space.]

Is it over yet?

[He swallows.] ...Are they gone?

[For a moment, he looks like he might say something else, but there's just a long silence where nothing happens and he flips the communicator off with an aggravated and exhausted sigh. This has not been the best few weeks of his life and he's had a lot of terrible few weeks.]

Hello, lovies! You look like an intelligent bunch, so you should have no problem solving this. Maybe you will win a prize?

ABBAAABAAABAAABBAAABABBBABAAAB ABBAAABAAABAAABBAAABABBBABAAAB ABBBAABBAB BAABBAABBBAABAA BABBAAAAAAABABBABABB BABBAAABBBABBBA ABAAAABBAB BAABBAABBBABAAABAABA ABABBAAAAAABBABAAABB ABAAABAABA BAABBAABBBAABAA AABABAAAAAABAAABAAABAABAABAABABAABB ABBBAAABAB AAAAAABABBABABB

Say, how many of you like bacon?

xx







(OOC: Time to pick out the interesting ones on board~*~ Hint is in the text!)

 So there's been a lot of talk about censuses and lists and mutinies and... Throwing people out of airlocks and I guess there's, like, a robot Civil Rights movement or something, and it's a lot to take in. But here's an idea. Why doesn't someone with way too much time on their hands make a newsletter. Great idea, right? That way, the people who are actually avoiding most of the drama in this place- because the last time they got involved, they ended up in a room with two corpses- could keep up with all the gossip. Just a thought.

[PRIVATE//UNHACKABLE: EAMES]

Hi. You don't know me, but I'm a, uh...  friend of Ariadne's. Maybe she's mentioned me. Topher? Topher Brink? Neuroscience guy? Anything?

Good morning, Tranquility.

For those of you who don't know me, I'm Doctor John Watson. I, along with a handful of others, represent your medical staff.

Everyone's aware that there's been a recent incident due to the, ehm, machinations of a passenger trying to seize control of the ship.

[ There's a brief tightening of his lips, but he continues on. ]

There were quite a few serious injuries, but I'm happy to assure you that no casualties have occurred.

However, I do feel the need to tell you that we have a problem here in the medbay.

The passenger in question was a non-human individual, and as such had some special needs to be fulfilled. However, we did not have these things on file because the patient didn't feel they ought to inform the medbay of their conditions and did not come in for screening, despite repeated requests over the network and within the new arrival letter. We very nearly lost them.

[ Straightening, tilting his chin up somewhat, jaw flexing before he addresses the feed with some levity. ]

Medbay is here to provide for all passengers in need, not just those that are human. We do not discriminate between any race, creed, or species. All that matters is that you are being provided the best possible care and, to do that, we need to be informed of any and all differences in your biology. We can get this by a simple, painless screening at your leisure or by a simple questionaire, for those of you who are already familiar with the difference between yourself and a human.

Health records are completely private and may only be accessed by the medical staff. It's really important that we be informed of any known health conditions in humans as well. I know some of you out there have been avoiding disclosing any facts about yourself either due to... shame or paranoia or just bad experiences with doctors, and that is natural. However, I'm asking you to consider the alternative: that in a state of emergency, we cannot assist you to the best of our abilities, and that your chances of surviving anything major are slim to none. We have powerful technology and we're all very capable, but we're not infallible.

This was a scare for all of us. While we can make steps toward making sure this never happens again, we also need to plan for the possibility of another crisis scenario.

I'm attaching a form to this message. Anyone who wishes to avoid speaking to doctors need only fill it out and send it to me, 001 - 197. I will put it into the medical archives and erase my device of it after.

[ medical.txt ]

( More Information )

[ Attention, Tranquility. Chase is in a hallway, a book clasped tightly in her hands, paper bowtie in place, stern look about her. She is not happy, but it's less 'someone's gone' and more like when she first arrived: cold, withdrawn and calculating. ]

Military protocol--and the standard form of my ship, the Grail Arbor, states that mutineers and those doing harm to other passengers are to be permanently dismissed. [ She lets the word 'permanently' linger before she quirks an eyebrow upwards, clearly unimpressed. ]

On top of the smiling ship, we have a scientist with missing memories--and a number of things unrelated to Tranquility's plight. The previous attacker. Megamind.

To put it bluntly: throw him out of the airlock or I'll destroy him myself.

[ That's not a threat, crew members. That's a promise.

[ the feed clicks on and darcy's drumming one hand on the table in front of her, a little annoyed. alright, a lot annoyed. ]

So, the Tranquility.

I like to think I'm a pretty go-with-the-flow kinda girl, but after arriving in a tube of blue goo, immediately having my best friend and guide kidnapped, and then faced with ship mutiny and general chaos, I just have one question.

[ the hand stops drumming and she looks directly into the feed, lowering her glasses a little bit. ]

Who the fuck named this ship?

[ she's about to turn off the feed, when she pauses. ]

Also, just for future reference, is it always this definitely-not-tranquil?

[(ooc: hey guys, coming off of a hiatus I didn't really call or even know was happening, but yay, I'm here now! ]

[oh good morning. have a :| from Jane]

So. I was showering earlier. Has anyone else noticed someone creeping around the showers? Especially when women go in?

Creepy much? Please stop that, whomever you are. I'm not showering to give you your jollies.

[she gives a look, then coughs, and changes the subject]

Also, I noticed something. We didn't get as many new people this past jump as we've had the last few times. That's odd. I wonder why that's the case.

For those who've just arrived, hello, my name is Dr. Jane Foster. I'm one of the astrophysicists on board, and I've been here for four months now, so I've been through a few of the jumps.

Oh, yes, I'm wanting to speak to Jim Kirk, if I may? I have some questions, if you have time.