[ Appearing on the video, Lydia only gives the transmission some of her attention, busy in the science department. ]

Well, Jasper's gone. Making me the senior and only physical sciences officer aboard Tranquility. If you'd like to consider joining, my name's Lydia Martin. We handle everything nonliving: chemistry, astronomy, physics. My most recent pet project has been an effort in mapping the location of the ship at each jump to understand our flight path, perhaps even predict trajectory.

But with the DUPRR team on board, I'm hoping that project will be rendered redundant. Has anyone had a chance to speak to one of them about their resources? Given that you're all holding them hostage.

[ Strong word, perhaps, but most of them are under guard of some kind. The non-combative eighteen-year-old isn't going to tussle with that, thank you. She'll keep her distance and let other people report in on what they've got to say. ]

Oh, and for anyone who knew him? As of jump 043, Stiles is gone, too.

[ 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.

[She's settled before she addresses the network at large, posture straight and hands resting in her lap. Jemma's still not entirely convinced that they've not been set adrift on a Hydra vessel or some other enemy of S.H.I.E.L.D., but one has to take risks eventually, don't they?

She even looks decidedly upbeat about it.]

I suppose we should start with a proper introduction, although it's been brought to my attention that I may have spoken to some of you before. It just seemed a bit rude not to, since I might not..remember you. My name is Jemma Simmons. I've just arrived, but can I say that, unanswered questions aside, I find this all to be a little exciting. The final frontier and all.

[Exciting and maybe just a little bit scary. But so far, so good.]

I've also applied to one of the Science Departments, but I thought I should mention it here as well, in the interest of sharing with the class. I specialized in biochemistry back at the Academy, but I could certainly lend a hand in medbay or anywhere else where an extra scientist is needed.

[One might get the impression that the way she says "science" should be accompanied by a heavy sigh and possibly hearts in the margins of this post.]

Oh, and if Fitz has already told you anything about a cat and its liver, please overlook it. He's a little bit sensitive in the olfactory department.

[so guess which department is still notoriously and relentlessly the most understaffed of all of them? that's right, it's physical sciences. and it's time for another probably not all that successful recruiting campaign featuring everyone's not so favorite demolitionist, jasper.]

It's been awhile since I did one of these, and we just got a new batch of people in about a week ago so I thought I'd introduce myself again. My name is Jasper and I run the Physical Sciences department and we're always looking for new recruits.

Physical sciences covers, well, just about anything you can think of that isn't biological or genetic [what's up xenogen] but personally my expertise tends to run more along the lines of chemistry. And then there's Lydia of course who's expertise is, uh. Basically everything.

What that means for you guys though, is that I'm currently offering to teach any new recruits to physical sciences how to make their own fireworks-- and don't worry guys they're small ones and completely safe. [heading that conversation off at the pass right now.]

Let me know if you're interested in signing up. Or if you just want to talk combustion, I'm honestly not that picky. You don't have to be experienced, you just have to be interested!

[ The feed clicks on to a hand-held view of Ripley, but the screen's steady. Just close enough to make the background difficult to make out, at first, though a glimpse of green probably makes it easy to fill in the blanks. ]

My name is Ellen Ripley. [ Lieutenant, but something tells her the rank's useless, here. ] I arrived with the last jump. Thank you to those who were kind enough to fill me in on the basics.

[ Gently wry. "Kind" is a generous term for the attitude she got for her medbay interrogations, though the gratitude's honest all the same. For the most part, her expression and voice remain formal, all patient neutrality. ]

I'd appreciate it if you'd humor a few more questions — I apologize if any of it's repetitive.

Are you familiar with the name Weyland-Yutani?

Two: are we aware of the ship's purpose? Not what we're doing here, or what's happened to it since; I'd like to know what it was built for.

And if any of you have first-hand experience with the creatures in the hallways, I'd like a detailed description.

[ She's a long way from home. That's what everyone keeps telling her, except there's far too much déjà vu in the scattered records she's managed to get her hands on to ignore. It wouldn't be the first time she'd woken up in her own world only to find it slightly askew.

And while this probably sounds more like business than pleasure, it'll admittedly be nice to have some actual conversations. Speaking of social skills, she ends off with an even: ]

Thank you for your time.


( ooc: gentle 4th-walling is ok up to her canon point, which is the beginning of the third movie! )

Raven Reyes here.

To the departments (any) - What's protocol when your boss goes MIA? MIA as in disappeared at jump. As far as I know, she never did name a second.

To Flight & Comms - How's our chain of command looking? Still got Wash and Ryuuzaki? Did we lose anyone else?

To Engineering - What now? I'm doing everything I can but we can only go like this for so long.

To anyone who can tell me what the hell this thing is - [ she's attaching a picture of what looks like a rubik's-cube-sized square of skin and flesh?? it's sitting alone on a table. ] I'm all ears.

To anyone I've ever talked to - Be nice to know if you're still around.

[ lydia looks like she's exhausted and if she's truthful about it she honestly is exhausted. for a moment it looks like she's not going to say anything, that she just wanted to broadcast her own face just to show how she appears before she ends up just exhaling. ]

I've been here two years. I know we don't measure things by months and years here but— it's been 25 jumps and where I come from that might as well mean two years. I've been home for months at a time and it felt like a blink of an eye. [ she pauses. ] I'm tired of being on this ship. You get people who are dead at home here and there's no guarantee they'll stay. If you're lucky they stay and you get to bond with them. If you're not, they just leave and you don't. You— who can totally go back home and be alive. They can't.

I get wanting to stay because of that. You all can enjoy being on a creepy horror ship that I'm honestly pretty sure wants us dead or something even worse. It's better than being dead at home, I'll give you that. But I want to go home already. I want to see my mom again and not find myself back here afterward.

[ lydia clears her throat. ] I want to find a way home. I don't want to make this place my home any more than I have. And to do that, I need to do a little research. Now, if you're the type that's getting a little tired of being here and would like to help, you should come talk to me. And maybe, with any luck and a lack of another plague happening, we might actually make some headway.

[for anyone who has had the pleasure of being around stiles in the last couple months, he's suddenly looking far better. less panicky, less wan, and perhaps a bit more determined as well.

for anyone who is particularly familiar with stiles as a person (and considering how out of sorts he's been since being brought to the tranquility, that's really only going to be the people he knows from back home) they'll know that a determined stiles is almost always a dangerous one.]

So it's good to hear that at least some of us aren't willing to just lay down and accept our abduction without a little bit of a fight. [a little fiercely] I for one am through with letting myself be manipulated or toyed with by our mysterious evil overlords.

I wasn't in the hallways when everyone started disappearing last month, mostly because I had just come back from being lost in the hallways. But I saw a brief mention of paintings in the latest recon report and I thought I should share with anyone who was interested to know the details of the mural I came across while I was wandering in the hallways.

Y'know, just in case it helps with any part of the deeper mystery of this place.

[he moves away from the comm for a moment now before coming back with a rough sketch (he's no artist like lydia) to show everyone: a blocky figure standing firmly, with a thin neck that seems to support nineteen heads, each with sharp red eyes. he keeps the image in view for a beat before setting it aside.]

Not sure what it means, apart from being super trippy, but it never hurts to have all the information, right?

[he pauses, considering, before continuing with a slightly more forcefully upbeat tone.] And I guess on a completely different note, anybody here a psychologist, or have any sort of experience in that kind of capacity?

Okay, I was warned this spaceship is creepy, but it goes straight for the visual distortions?

I guess I should introduce myself. Detective John Kennex. If you've come across a synthetic named Dorian with dark hair and blue eyes, a woman named Anna with dark hair and brown eyes, or a small but authoritative woman named Maldonado, let me know. It's important.

Anyway, I'm new and I could use a tour guide. Any volunteers?

[He usually wouldn't ask for a tour guide, but he really wants to learn more about this place.]

[ooc: Just in case you were wondering, in regards to the visual distortions, John's having side effects to a drug.]

[ peter looks vaguely more interested in being on screen this time than compared to the last time he was. maybe it’s because he’s had a little more practice, who knows. but he’s standing in front of a mish mosh of scrap metal, a rather perfect descriptor for what they're about to say. ]

So. For all you guys out there looking to join a department, I want to offer engineering as an option. If there’s something we need it’s extra hands around the place, and there’s more than a few things we could think of to do to keep you occupied if you can't think of them yourselves. Plus, the place is a lifesize erector set.

Arya and I are the heads of the department--

[ arya is worn in a way that goes beyond physical exhaustion and would rather be anywhere else than showing her face on the network, but no one could tell from the smile she donned for this occasion. ]

— and ours is an important duty. [ focus, peter. ] We are charged with the well-being of the ship. If it is neglected, we would all die.

[ welcome to psa: westeros style. ]

We need everyone. Even if you are not knowledgeable about technology [ cough her a year ago ] there are tasks that don’t need such. And we can teach those who wish to learn.

[ peter’s focused, he swears! he’s just trying to appeal to the masses. ] We want you to keep in mind that the place is bigger than you might expect and we can’t keep track of anyone who might decide to go wandering off, so maybe join with a buddy of yours so you can keep track of each other.

The main goal is that we need more people, like Arya said. There’s just too much for the few people we’ve got to take care of all on our own. Feel free to talk to either of us if you’ve got any questions or concerns or, I don’t know- if you just want to know more.

[ peter glances back over to arya for a second before looking back. ]

It’s a department we all need to think of, and not just as one where we get to build things in our spare time—

[ and here arya chimes in with a, ] But we do that too! [ actual best part tbh we’re all kids or kids at heart here. ]

We take care of the ship, and without your help, the place’ll fall apart.


[ ooc; peter is black, arya is green ]

Alaric Saltzman and Jenna Sommers went home. I know a lot of you were friends of theirs, and they were here for a long time. I'm sorry for your loss.

[ it's short, but elena doesn't really know what else to say. just that hurt to type, and she can't... she just can't. knowing what they're going back to, that jenna is dead and ric is going to go crazy and then die too... she doesn't want that for them, doesn't want to think about it.

for all the tranquility's faults -- and faults is putting it lightly -- she at least had jenna and ric. her family was mostly put back together, and it was safe so long as they didn't try to do anything stupid. now they're gone, and damon doesn't remember anything, and honestly, she just wants to go home. there's nothing here anymore that makes staying worth it. ]

Since everyone's all about hiring on help these days-- I've got a few things that need doing if there are any bored volunteers. Also a few things on a shopping list if there's anyone that recently arrived with a decent stash

Shopping list is easy: tea, more tea, spices, decent bacon, cigarettes, movies that aren't space knock offs. Watched almost all of those sixteen thousand times each. Though I recommend space Titanic, which is weirdly better than the Leoardo DiCaprio version.

Things that need doing: someone to move something seriously heavy, someone else to make a delivery and pickup.


You'll be paid in space beer or space risotto. Space beer and space risotto is also what we have to trade with for the stuff on the shopping list. And all of it's semi important, especially the tasks. Only slightly less important than the tasks is the cigarettes. [A pause.] And maybe the tea.

Thanks.



[ooc ps - there is totally not a sneaky vampire plot embedded in here, don't worry!!! but if you volunteer for the delivery & pickup it will entail a rifle drop off and maybe some (lots of) lying. be warned.]

[Eventually locked from Klaus]

I never thought I would say this, but even I can't drink myself into tolerating this place. Other than people being stupid and making stupid choices that might or might not affect us all in the long run, is there any sort of entertainment here other than the booze?

Any at all?

[Salvatore Brothers]

So how is the polite way to get blood in this place? Or should I just bite the first idiot that seems easy to be compelled enough?

Look, I'm even bothering to ask.

[Ilde]

How is my favorite person in the whole ship doing? Not as bored as I am, I hope.

[Elizabeth of York]

How do you fare? Being much more of a lady than myself, I can't possibly imagine how this place has forced you to change your habits.

[ the feed switches on to show a spectacular view of the garden grounds. as in the actual floor of the gardens, mostly dirt and foliage, before it's flipped around to focus on hook's face. his expression is solemn, offering up a respectable display of sincere concern for those he's addressing. ]

This message is intended as a favour— an act of good faith, if you will. I regret to inform my fellow passengers that we've a wolf in our midst. [ the mask of civility slips slightly, giving way to a sharp grin; his voice matches, edged with hostility and amusement. ] Or should I say a crocodile.

There's a man on this ship who calls himself Rumplestiltskin. While I admit he's not much to look at, it's nothing more than the practised ruse of a monster. He's known to my world as The Dark One. Whatever kind words he's spun, any generosities he's offered— I assure you, they've been at your expense.

[ no killing allowed, but nobody said anything about gossip. anyway, after a pause to let that dramatic reveal that absolutely won't remind anyone of stupid picture books settle: ]

I've also heard word of a smithy on board. If anyone could direct me to it or to its owner, I'd be in your debt. [ there's a glint of light off the metal as he raises his hook, idly considering its condition. ] I've something in need of sharpening.

[ that last sentence would absolutely be a private taunt to gold if he knew how to encrypt anything, but he doesn't. blame emma. ]

( ooc: 4th walling on all related fairy tales/stories is welcome! )

Another Jump has come and gone.

[ hey, Tranquility. Lucrezia Borgia's hair falls freely down her back today and her cheeks are rosy and her lips are smiling. though if you know Lucrezia Borgia, and many do by now, you would perhaps recognize something in her smile, a twinkle in her eye which is impish. ]

I have counted more than twelve jumps, near fifteen and my days on this ship had been many yet today I come to you with a plea, Tranquility.

[ notice the faux!serious expression on her face. ]

There is a man upon this ship who had promised me a most wonderful promise many months ago and failed to see it through. I do not know if it is a regular affair in this person's world to break a promise made to a lady but I have come before you seeking justice from him so he would see it done. Duel him, pester him, chase him down at my name, if you wish it. Only bring him before me or tell him to present himself to me and be given punishment for said offense.

His name is Sirius Black. He is taller than me with dark hair and mischievous eyes and a talent in magic and he had given me his word that he will hold a Christmas upon this vessel. I do not know the months but surely not celebrating it at all is worse than trying to. My Holy Father would say the attempt is as important as the result. I trusted Sirius Black with such and here I am, months afterwards and nearly married -

[ allow her to look very pleased for a moment ]

And not a Christmas in sight. That said, I call upon my friends to deliver him to me so we may settle this matter once and for all.

[ lydia is sitting on her bed fiddling with what looks like a leash that isn't attached to the dog it's normally attached to. it almost looks like she's not paying attention to the feed being on before she looks up and smiles a tight sort of smile. ]

Assuming that more than just one or two people made it back from that really ill-advised trip to the bridge, I don't feel bad asking you all this question instead of crying about people dying. [ the smile becomes a little tighter then, like she already had cried before the jump. after a shake of her head it's gone like it was never there in the first place. ] Say you have powers at home and on this ship and they were working perfectly fine when you were at home and when you found your way on this ship.

[ she pauses, like she has to figure out how to word the rest of what she's saying before she continues. ]

Has anyone had their powers go from working perfectly fine on this ship to not working perfectly fine? Maybe even working in ways that are not even remotely how they're supposed to work in the slightest. I mean, it's a little weird and I'm looking for some perspective. Or a base to compare something to. [ she hastily adds: ] I'm not asking because of me. Mine— I'm just not asking because of me.