[When the video turns on, the person making the recording is obviously sitting just outside the main doors to Engineering - the feed is swaying a little as he gets situated, and you can see a flash of the hallway, his blue pants and sneakers, and then his right hand, opening and closing repeatedly, the flesh on the back burnt a nice pink color.

There's a hiss, and then the feed fixes on his face - he doesn't look particularly distressed, just a little irritated, serious. After a moment, he lets out a held breath, and fixes that serious expression on the camera.]

Right. I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that someone else has already tried going in there.

[He pauses, not a hesitation so much as a moment to think, and he glances down at his hand again - if it's not frozen, it's burnt.]

And probably failed, judging by the way the temperature fluctuations are still happening.

[A pause.]

So I'm asking now. Has the ship told us anything about why this is happening yet?

Hey, guys.

[ Hotspur's looking happy - if a little warily so. Behind him is the gunmetal grey backdrop of the main hangar deck, complete with serried ranks of broken shuttles and throughout the video he glances off screen and in to the shadows. There are noises out there – noises and things – and it is creeping him out, but hell if he's going to let it spoil his fun. ]

For those that don't know me - I'm Max, but call me Hotspur. I'm a flight lieutenant and I reckon the Tranq's pretty cool with that now. [ He juggles his comm device and raises a wrist to show the newly-changed tattoo bearing the initials OPR. ] There's a lot of beaten up old birds down here that could do with some TLC - Tali, you fancy trying your hand at one or two of these? Tony, I reckon you might be interested too... [ There's a meaningful glance in that second invitation. No homo. ]

But I kinda need some help with other things down here too - I'm not happy to let these poor shuttles lie around completely nameless. It's just not right. So if anyone's got any good ship names then let's hear them... but they've got to be related to the Tranquility somehow. So, uh, words that are a bit like Tranquility, but smaller. [ He grins; he knows it sounds a little stupid to those who don't come from a military background but names - especially well-chosen and meaningful names - are important. ] I got one of them named already. Faith, 'cause you gotta have a whole lot of faith that she's going to be spaceworthy one day...

[ He swings the device around in a dizzy swirl of shapes and colours before finally steadying the video feed to show off the powered-down innards of the cockpit. ]

Like I said: in need of some TLC. I can figure out a few basic faults on the controls side of things but I'm no flight techie. Any volunteers to lend a hand?

[ The camera pans back and Hotspur purses his lips, suddenly remembering that he had a bit of bad news for one person in particular: ]

Oh, and hey, Mouse - sorry, kid. Can't get you those gloves after all. Did you manage to find something else that would work?

It's incredible...

[ The video feed of the comm unit jumps to life - a vibrant mess of abundant green flooding the screen. The graphics jumble as she walks, feet a little unsteady on the overgrown soil of the Tranquility's untended oxygen garden. While the camera woman is off-screen, behind the device, there’s a laugh, a bit of disbelieving joy in her voice. An edge of teasing. ]

Whoever was left in charge of this was apparently fired for good reason. It's a mess in here. [ A pause, a bit of awe in her voice ] A beautiful mess...

There’s a lot of work to be done, which I know some of us have already started, but lucky for you I've got a life's worth of experience plus a couple degrees in weed-pulling. Not to say a few extra pair of hands wouldn’t be welcome.

[ She turns the camera to face her, Cory's bright smile taking up the screen. ] My name is Corazon - botanist formerly of the Icarus II. If anyone would like to help tending to this jungle, meet me in the oxygen garden whenever is convenient for you. Mace, Capa - for you it's required.

[ With the laugh in her tone slowly fading, sobering and being replace with a slight hint of unease. ]

The oxygen garden is the heart of this ship. It is our life support. It requires care and attentive hands. [ A pause, and she nods, a hand rested on her hip. ] We can’t have it forgotten like this.

[[ooc; feel free to respond with action or whatever else you please! /o/ FYI, I'll be a bit slow tonight ;; ]]

[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!! )

[ It takes some time and positioning, but he finally gets the com-device to where he wants it before double-checking that he's posting to the network at large.

The video starts and others will be able to see a small, blonde man settled in a chair, brows furrowed with a hint of mild concern. ]

Right, yes, hello.

I've been hearing a lot of talk on the network regarding those who have recently been altered to human bodies.

[ His lips pinch a little - to be honest, John is still having a hard time believing this is all real. ]

This is a real issue, especially concerning robotic, um, persons. I understand that those of you who have been affected are pushing for getting your original bodies back, but until that's possible, if that's possible, you need to be able to take care of the one you're currently inhabiting.

My name is John Watson - I'm a medical doctor with twenty years of experience. I'm offering my help to anyone who needs help getting accustomed to their new bodies. Again, I think this is especially important to those who formally had no need to eat or sleep, and may or may not be aware of the particulars of human hygiene or diet.

[ Some humans are this way, too, to be fair. Looking at you, Sherlock. ]

Since this is a personal issue, I'm open to making an individual appointment to see you. You can come see me at my flat or I can come to whatever venue you're comfortable with. Just please contact me and we can figure something out together.

Anyone else who needs medical assistance or advice may also contact me; I'll do what I can to help.

[ He cuts the feed and leans back in his chair to wait and see if good sense overcomes pride. ]

-- On the off chance that anyone on board the Normandy is receiving this signal? This is Garrus Vakarian.

[ The voice that flickers on in a burst of static sounds like it has some kind of effect added to it -- like there are two tones, speaking at once, a lower-pitched hum barely audible underneath a more normal sounding voice. To anyone in the know, that's a Turian voice. To anyone else, that probably just sounds weird as fuck. ]

Be advised that the channel is insecure. Requesting coordinates, as well as immediate pickup. We just got done saving the galaxy, and I could honestly do with a bit of a vacation.

But failing that. [ With a small sigh, because that shit is a long shot, focusing back on everyone else on the network. ] Has anyone taken a look around the ship, yet? It's -- not anything I recognize so far, but I'm no expert.

[ The video feed clicks on to reveal Robert Capa — a man in his mid-thirties with shaggy hair (still damp from the tube where he awoke) and a five o'clock shadow and narrow shoulders covered by the ship's uniform he found in the locker marked with his identifying number. His eyes, bright blue, are particularly striking in that they are wholly calm, despite the latest series of events. The rest of his face is calm as well, the muscles of which never really rearrange themselves much to convey this emotion or that. When he speaks his voice is measured and even, though there is a certain start-stop to the cadence.

His words are prefaced with an inhale. It seems to steady him. ]

I guess I should start with the obvious question. We can figure out where to go from there, depending how the answers trend. [ Capa rubs his chin; the scrape of his stubble is audible. ] Is anyone here part of the ship's natural crew?

[ He pauses, letting that inquiry and whatever implications it may carry set in. There's a vague flicker of emotion, maybe worry, in the set of his mouth but it's as understated as the rest of him. ] And maybe, more importantly: can anyone recall how they got here?