[ Unlike the only other post Ladon's done on the network, this one isn't meant to be video. It is anyway, though, because failure with technology comes as his second nature. Either way, Ladon's lounging in his room, enjoying one of the few glasses of Fir whisky he has left from the bottle that showed up in his locker. And for once he's not all buttoned up and formal, his shirt's in the laundry along with his vest and tie. He's also going a few days between shaves now to keep from running out of what he has.

So hey. Undershirt and stubble. You're welcome, space anonymous. His hat's still on, though. It may as well be glued to his head. ]

So. Puttin' aside the unpleasantness of mooks here killin' or threatenin' to kill animals who ain't done no harm... Got a couple questions for you folks.

One, ever notice somethin' here similar to your world? We ain't got none of this blinkin' business back home, but I seen some things here similar t'the station I was on before. Wonderin' if it's just coincidence. Or if space shit's the same 'cross the board.

Two... [ He pauses a moment, sets his glass down and turns it a few times in contemplation. ] Wonderin' 'bout those holodeck things we got here. Anyone know how they work?

((OOC: Ladon dissected a roomba today thus why he needs to wash his shirt and such. He put it back together again before setting it free, but you're likely to find the poor thing hanging about on the 11th floor, running into walls and going in circles. Not good with technology, remember? ENJOY YOUR DEFECTIVE ROOMBA, TQ.))

[ the device is balanced on robb's knee, with grey wind at his side, circling around out of sight and then back in on robb's other side, all sleek muscle and bulk, a counterpoint to how lean robb's grown, newly shorn hair a riot of curls, despite his attempts to smooth them. eventually, he reaches a hand, brings grey wind to heel, the great wolf settling as robb begins to speak. ]

I'm aware there are greater things to consider than the whims of a king, but I would ask your indulgence in this instance. Things have gone quiet, for the moment, so perhaps this is the best time to pose such a question.

[ there's a rumble from grey wind, a shift and scrape of claws on the metal. robb runs a hand over his head, settles behind the ears. ]

I would hear what was known of skinwalkers and shapechangers, if there are those aboard who would be comforable speaking of such subjects with me. Anything you wish to speak of, even legend and lore. I'd be grateful for it, good people of the Tranquility.

Sup, Tranquility.

Handsome Jack here. Just arrived, what, like a month ago? Yeah. So. I think we got to talk.

You know. Get everything real nice an out in the open. Not a huge fan about airing out dirty laundry, but it's best to put this out there now rather than have to explain myself later. There's two people out there that tried to murder me when I got here, and I figure they'll keep trying for as long as I'm here... You might be friends with my buddies- and I say this sarcastically-Lilith and Mordecai, and they might say some things about me. Why not hear it from the horse's mouth?

I got nothing to hide. It's story time, kiddos. Gather 'round.

( Story time. Enjoy this manipulative son of a bitch. )

[ hello, tranquility. you remember dean, right? yes? no? either way, today finds him planning something stupid. at least act surprised. ]

I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I'm not looking forward to climbing back into that pod-thing for another jump. [ nope, not one bit. not if it means there's a chance he won't wake up for another month again. ]

Does anyone know what would happen if I skipped out on that? I mean, I guess turnin' into space dust's worse than pullin' another act of Sleeping Beauty, but if there's any way 'round that… Or if you have some gruesome tale 'bout how your buddy Joe tried it and got eaten by a space dinosaur, let's hear 'bout it.

[ let him know. or something.

a beat later, and on an entirely different subject; ] Also. Who the hell does a guy have to get cozy with 'round here to get somethin' more... fun in his locker? [ do yourself a solid and don't ask what's fun is. the smirk on his face should speak for him. it's gone with the next bit though; ] ...'cause not for nothing, but aside from people dyin' and monsters lurking in the dark, not a lot seems to happen 'round here. Almost like home, y'know, except for this bein' some sci-fi nerd's wet dream.

[ okay, maybe that's a little unfair considering he has to physically stop himself from losing his shit every time some iconic pop culture character decides to show up. ]

( ( PRIVATE TO SAM WINCHESTER ; ENCRYPTION 50% ) )

I happen to be a very private man. It tends to happen when you're brought up in the public eye. My parents-- [ He pauses. ] They were wonderful people, but their deaths caught the imagination of the world, and I grew up under that shadow.

You can imagine how difficult it must be for me to speak to you now. It isn't a subject I enjoy visiting, but it's come to my attention that I've been coming off as... Well, as aloof. It's not my intention. You're all so close, helping each other out when times are hard. It's a long way from what I'm used to. It's difficult to know how to--how to join in, when you've never really done it before.

I'm afraid I really don't have any applicable skills. I'm not a doctor, I know a little about science, I'm afraid to say I wouldn't be much use in a fight, but if there's anyone on board who wouldn't mind showing a closeted ex-billionaire the ropes, I'm willing to try to learn. I'll take anything.

It's Bruce Wayne, by the way.

[ A wary smile, and then the feed clicks off. ]

[Hey guys, Paceface here to chat! How's the weather aboard? Bloody and depressing? Right... sounds on par.]

I've only been here for a little over a month, and things have progressed this much? 

[He won't say 'finally, about time', because that's just rude as hell. People are dead, and he's not so heartless to ignore that.]

Once a creature is killed, don't assume others won't take its place; monsters like them? They're greedy and stubborn. And they're like rats. How long have they been grouping in those halls after you'd cleared out that single department? How long have they known about that incident? If they're capable of reproducing, we're in even more trouble. There could be a ring of them around us and we'd never even know it, possibly just waiting for our pods to malfunction again... or for our doors and lights to stop working.

[Scaring people? Yes, I like to scare people. But it's for good intentions, at least. He'd like to at least put those thoughts out there.]

I think it'd be in everyone's best interests to not wander into the dark abyss of hallways alone from this point. [don't listen to him, he's a hypocrite] Though... if anyone's planning to regroup and send out a hunting team, I would be more than happy to join one. I've nothing to lose, and death doesn't particularly scare me like it used to. I don't think I'm the only one out there that would agree to that, especially with the things so many have seen and suffered through.

... Death just isn't as scary as it used to be.

[... Speaking of 'death'. He pauses, thoughtful.]

I hope the kid finds peace in hers. She was a brave girl... and considering what I've seen of her on the network, I imagine she's no ordinary child; does anyone see anything familiar about the map she'd drawn on the walls? Her own little mural, so to speak. What did she see in that little head of hers that prompted an art session? Where does this floor plan lead? If it's truly one at all.

... Let us know on the network if anyone finds out more.

[ Hi, Tranquility. Ryan Newman is, well, new here, and he has an important question for you. No, it's not 'why am i here' or 'are you guys sure i'm not incredibly high right now'. And although it's kind of bugging him a lot, he's not going to ask why he keeps getting these weird looks and questions about his height. He's question is much more serious than any of that.

He looks a little uncomfortable, even a bit nervous. Ryan's not one for posting his face for...what, two-hundred some people to see? This is seriously pushing his comfort buttons, but this is an important question. It's for the sake of his sanity (and i mean that literally). ]

Has anyone seen a dog?

[ Yeah, if you've run into Ryan before, you may have heard this question already. ] He's...big. Gray. Middle aged. Kind of mangy? He goes by the name of Wilfred.

If anyone's seen him at all...can you let me know?

[ Yes that's Nickelback don't judge me.

Up in the Oxygen Garden once again, Jaye's leaning on a tree near the pen for the larger animals. They're just out of sight, but the sound of the cow chewing cud can be heard if you really listen. ]

Well now that this piece of crap is back up [ she gives the comm a shake, making the image go blurry for a moment until she stops ] it's time for me to share what Mordecai, Lilith, and I found last month. [ Pause. ] We went wandering around the ship.

There are a bunch of super deep holes and a creepy painting with hands that follows you around. We took pictures, if you all want to go nuts.

And I guess this is the part where you can yell at me for going looking, too, but all of you people who were comatose -- if you don't remember the network being down and aren't new you were in a coma, by the way, or maybe just really stupid -- should know that I was trying to help you all. And I didn't go alone, like some people.

Anyway, pictures.

[ And now linked are several pictures of this and this. Enjoy! ]

[The feed flicks on, revealing a young, blond woman, chilling in some hallway in a...bat-costume? She's grinning pretty widely for someone who's supposed to be dark as the (k)night.]

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's—[dramatic pause]—sure as hell a giant, creepy spaceship because Superman you ain't. [She sighs, grin disappearing in favor of a more deadpan expression.]

So, hey, I'm new, but let's skip the mental breakdowns, freak outs, where is "x", have you seen my "y," I am scared, blah blah, wah wah, yadda yadda, etcetera, ad naseum [dismissive wave] and go straight to introductions and pleasantries.

Hey, space people. I'm Batgirl. The real deal, even — see, I come fully equipped with Batarangs, witty retorts, and everything. Yeah, yeah, I've snooped through the network. Done a little detecting, as they say. I've heard rumors of comics and fourthwalls; don't worry. If I'm fictional where you're from, then I will be available for autographs upon request. The one thing I ask of you is pretty please: no spoilers. I happen to like surprises.

Anyway, I also like coffee and waffles, especially in delicious conjunction, rooftop tag, crime fighting, and, of course, justice.

I'm sure you've seen my spooky boss-man's pseudo-vandalism, but I figured I should put the word out in my own way: call me, beep me, if you want to text me; that's a-okay. I'll be there whenever you need me, as cheesy as that sounds. It's part of the super-gig. You can ask questions and/or heckle now, I guess. Do whatever floats your boat. I'll be here aaaaaaall week.

[ 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. ]

After a month here, watching you all, I have to say I'm surprised. A bunch of strangers from different worlds, and I mean strange— some of you, more than others— and yet you all manage to get along relatively well.  I can hardly say the same for some of the people  I know who share the same world.

[ that is, relative to the clusterfuck that is vampire society. ]

So what's the secret? Survival, practicality, boredom— because as neat as being on a spaceship is, we're still confined. A month has passed, the novelty's wearing away, and now it getting kind of dull.

Which brings me to my next question: What do you guys do for fun around here?

[In spite of his reluctance to say anything after a particularly stabby incident, Murphy has other concerns that more or less supersedes his own well-being at the moment:]

"Wasn't gonna say anything 'bout this -- especially not on here, but... I feel like it needs to be brought up again in case if it wasn't already obvious.

"I think it goes without sayin' that this isn't some kinda five-night Space Academy. You just... You ever know what you might run into, whether you're doin' your job or just grabbing something from the kitchen, or somethin' else goes down... Not tryin' to scare anybody with this, I'm just gonna put that out there.

"Nng... I'm not... one for fancy speeches, but I just wanted to say, uh... it's a big ship we live on. Shit can happen. A lot of us have been on board for awhile, and... yeah, I'm no head doctor, but I do know that the conditions we're stuck in can do a lot to a person's mental health."

[None of this is news to Murphy, and it feels like he's wasting his breath on it now. He sighs. Though he's kept the audio on for a reason, he makes a pained grunt, trying to compose himself before he continues:]

"Guess what I'm tryin' to say is... exercise some caution while you're here. Otherwise, you're probably gonna learn it the hard way." [Much like yours truly here.]

[The video feed turns on, and the screen is immediately filled with a lot of pink. Effie is dressed to the nines, looking like she's about to step foot on a high fashion runway. The tastefulness of her appearance is debatable, but the only thing more blinding than her attire is the smile on her face as she addresses the network.]

Good evening, Tranquility. [The accent is immediately obvious. It sounds affected, but the inflections come out naturally on her tongue.] I can understand how the ship got its name. It's very quiet around here, isn't it? [And dull. But she's not going to mention that.]

I've been here for several weeks, and it's terribly rude of me not to have introduced myself sooner. [Perhaps she was waiting for an opportunity to go home, or she was hoping to wake up from what was obviously a dream. But as the days and weeks passed, she's resigned herself to the fact that she's stuck here, for now.] My name is Effie Trinket.

I'm used to keeping busy, so I must admit that I've been feeling rather restless here. Do let me know if I can provide assistance somewhere. [She doesn't think she needs to mention that anything related to physical labor is out of the picture.] Or perhaps I can do something to liven this place up -- I could add a dash of color to the interiors, or organize a party or two.

[Her voice trails off, because she's Getting Ideas. She gives the camera one last ridiculously bright smile.] Well, that's it for now! I'll talk to all of you soon, I hope.

[A small wave, and the feed turns off.]

[ The first thing you see is... well, nothing.

Then there is rustling and clumsy movement of the communicator, eventually revealing September, eyes not meeting the video feed, but it indeed is him. The usual bright blue have dulled.

There's more rustling, September feeling for something on the communicator. ]

No video, just audio today.

[ But September, the video feed is on, can't you see that?

( Precisely, that's the problem. Even his sweater is on backwards. )

His eyes never meet with the feed, appearing to focus on nothing in particular. ]

Curious, but does anyone here actually have a sleeping schedule or sleeping hour?

And... has anyone been having nightmares lately?

[ Smooth, Mr. Dream Eater. ] Let's call it curiosity. By the way, you should all use audio, I'm kinda... caught up on something.

[ Liar.

Now watch as September turns off the feed a few failed attempts later. ]

( ooc: SO September has not been dream feeding for a long while and the effects are rolling in. He's temporarily blind until he feeds again, thus his lack of coordination! )