[ The feed begins with a single tone, low, as if testing the audio capabilities of the devices. On the screen is an older man, white haired with bright blue eyes, standing in front of a deep blue banner emblazoned in gold with a circular symbol containing three five-pointed stars. Though his face now is solemn, there are laughter lines soft at corners of his eyes, the set of his mouth one clearly used to the curve of a smile. He only waits a moment before beginning to speak, voice level, carrying an assured authority, a confidence borne from experience. ]

Residents of the Tranquility, I greet you today after many, many years of waiting. My name is Hendrik van Rijn, Prime Minister of the Miraxian Triad, the people who built and launched the ship you've been trapped on. You may not have heard of me, but I have heard of you, and all the terrible events you've been forced to endure as a result of the unprecedented malfunction which took the Tranquility so far from her intended path. I offer you the deepest sympathies of my people, and myself. Mistakes have been made, and I give you every assurance that now, with your return to us, we will find the cause of this tragedy and set things right.

I know you may have heard promises before, and met with the unfortunate souls in our society who prefer to cheat and steal than offer a helping hand. I know you have no reason to trust me; if I'd been through as much as you have, I wouldn't trust me either. But we have someone else here to speak to you, and I hope hearing from her will help to show the truth of our intentions, and allow us to begin the forging of a strong partnership as we move into the future.

[ With a last look to the camera, he steps back, turning his attention to the side and holding out a hand to greet and guide the woman joining him to take center. The woman's face is one known to many aboard the ship. She's gracious as she steps into view, appearing to squeeze the man's hand before she lets go and takes her place.

Odessa Knutson.

Thank you, Prime Minister.

[ Her attention turns to the camera then, head tilting to one side as a wide smile spreads across her familiar features. She has a look of health to her. A better diet, some proper sunlight, and time will do that. ]

Hello, Tranquility. [ Spoken in the same way one might ask, did you miss me? ] It's been a long time. Too long. For all of us. [ That smile turns a little sad. They've been through some horrors, haven't they? Time and distance has allowed much of it to become a distant memory. ]

The time has come to stop running. When I left the ship, I didn't know what to expect. We received so many conflicting stories, didn't we? I expected all the worst ones to be true, but it was a risk I was willing to take. I'm sure many of you can understand why. Still, I was afraid that I would find monsters. That I would be thrown in a dark cell and never see the light of day again. Now, I don't say this often, but... [ Her hands spread out to her sides, palms up in a gesture that says just look at me. ] I was wrong. After my escape two years ago, Prime Minister van Rijn's people found me. They gave me food, clothing, shelter, a new life and a new purpose...

To find all of you, and help you to be rescued as I had been rescued. I know most of you aren't like me; I'm starting over here, and I'm happier than I've ever been, but many of you have lives you want to return to.
[ The delight she has in sharing this good news seems genuine enough, especially (or even) to those who know her well. She clasps her hands in front of her, a light in her eyes. ] I've seen what the Miraxians have been working on myself. There's hope, so much hope.

Pack your bags, my friends. We're coming to take you home.

[[ OOC: van Rijn exited stage left once off camera, and responses will come from Odessa Knutson only. ]]
02 May 2015 @ 11:36 am
Something happened.

[there's a moment's pause. It's taking a lot to make this post. More than he thinks he's capable of. But after all that happened with dean--]

During the recent…invasion.

[okay. Right. He needs to just get it out and deal with the fallout afterwards. His voice sounds more certain when he continues. As though he's simply reciting a few facts as opposed to potentially gaining a ship full of enemies.]

Those who have been here for some time are likely aware of the existence of a creature from my world called a Hellhound. They are invisible beasts capable or tearing souls from the bodies of the living in order take them to Hell.

A number of them arrived during the recent invasion. But without passage to Hell available to them, they deposited those souls in a place they considered safe. Here, that meant the room assigned to me.

[and that's…where it gets difficult again.]

Souls are one of the strongest sources of power in existence, and my Grace had been depleting for some time. I didn't…think. I—

[okay. Let's try this again.]

There are those here who people may have noticed have been behaving differently since the invasion. They may not be sleeping as much, or they may be capable of pushing their bodies further than they should. They may be less empathetic than they once were.

There is a possibility that they are a victim of this. If that is the case, their souls are with me.

I need to return them.

[another pause, and a final--]

…I'm sorry.
28 February 2015 @ 07:07 pm
Okay, so I'm pretty much ridiculously bored right now, and it's not like I can go anywhere because like 90% of the people who're even awake right now are doing shit in the departments, so.

I don't know. Tell me a joke. The worse the better. If I have to pretty much shun you for telling it, it means you win.
This is Doctor Knutson. [ Her voice is even, initially. ] I need medical on residential level four, room one. Subject is human, male, mid-thirties. Unresponsive.

[ The breath Odessa draws in before continuing is ragged, it betrays her fear. ]

Subject complained of blurred vision and showed signs of labored breathing prior to loss of consciousness. Pulse is weak, and breathing remains shallow.

[ Her voice finally cracks with the first of her sobs: ] Please, somebody help.
01 February 2015 @ 04:37 pm
[ so that was...some shit, huh?

in light of just how grim everything had gotten, it seems the perfect time to roll out a little something to lighten the mood, and river has been rehearsing for at least half an hour prior to actually addressing the network.

(it needs to be perfect, okay? delivery is everything in comedy)

I have a joke. ..More than one, but one for now. We're all very tired.

[ she clears her throat a little - bless she's actually kinda nervous - before continuing, a little rustling following as she even sits up straighter. ]

How many existentialists does it take to screw in a light bulb? [ pause for effect ] Two - one to change the light bulb, and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in netherworld of cosmic nothingness!

[ ok you can all laugh now ]
25 January 2015 @ 05:20 pm
As you are no doubt aware, presently we are dealing with the threat presented by the boggart that has been released aboard the ship. On behalf of Xenogen, I wish to share the following information.

  • Although we are only aware of one boggart having been released, sightings and encounters indicate that it has multiplied somehow and we are not currently certain how many roam.
  • Contrary to previously supplied information, these creatures appear to be dying.

Our request:

  • If you are able, please inform Xenogen - via this post or through contacting one of us individually - your whereabouts when sighting the creatures, as well as the timing of the sightings and how they present themselves.
  • If you have killed one of them, please inform us with some detail as to how.

Thank you.
14 January 2015 @ 05:21 am
[ Erik’s voice is low and rough, raw tension metered in the effort he makes to keep himself in check. ]

There is no force in this universe that has our best interests at heart.

We’re stowaways on a stolen warship. Van Rijn is hunting for us.

From what little we know of him, we may deduce that he is not a man celebrated for his mercy. If we are taken on Van Rijn’s terms, we will be subject to his rule -- not as people, but as scientific curiosities. Collateral damage. Pirates. Witnesses. He has no obligation to follow through on any promise his men make.

We are not citizens of this world. We don’t have rights.

Be discreet. Keep communications apprised of any contact you have with his crew. If we are to engage with him, it must be on our terms. If his forces breach this vessel, be prepared to fight for your lives.

[ There’s a pause, as if he’s checking notes. ]

For those of you unfamiliar with the basic operation of Tranquility-issue space suits and armaments, now is the time to learn.

[ ...And a moment of silence for his self-control buckling under the strain of formal address. ]

As of this moment, if I discover that any one of you has taken it upon yourselves to pander away further intelligence on this ship or your fellow passengers in exchange for safe passage -- hope that Van Rijn finds you before I do.

[ He ends that sentence, and so the transmission, with a bristling quiver at the tail of his diction and an abrupt punch of his forefinger. Magneto out. ]
09 January 2015 @ 04:08 pm
recently a handful of us had made contact with an outside source - a certain lina barnez and joshua sachin. some of you may still be confused by their most recent attempt to communicate.

what we know is that they work on behalf of van rijn, who is supposedly the prime minister of alexandria and is behind the construction of this ship.

lina and joshua have been described as "bloodhounds" for the prime minister, who is undoubtedly looking to get back his ship. what this entails for us, we don't yet know.

have been on the tranquility since the first jump, and recall the events described in their transmission. a timeline of those events as we experienced them can be read upon in the welcome manual. can answer any further questions if you still have any.

for those of you who are unaware, the strela outpost was occupied by a population who appeared to have been in synch with each other. we later discovered that they assimilated people into what we know as a hivemind, and had attempted to round us up in efforts to become part of that assimilation. we managed to escape, but it would seem that some time after our departure the strela outpost has suffered an "accident" that had wiped out all of its inhabitants.

like the outpost, arima was a colony populated by living people at the time we were there. plenty of survivors had been left behind when we departed. however, lina and joshua insist that the people of the colony were all killed when they had been very much alive when we had left, but only after they had expressed hostility towards our crew - not much unlike the temperament we were met by the people of strela.

there's a possibility that these locations we have stopped at were affected because of the tranquility itself. at least, that's what the people working for van rijn seem to believe. whether or not that's true, can't say.

after all, don't believe everything they tell you.

am concerned that there may be a chance that whatever so-called "phenomena" that's affected the people we have previously encountered may be affecting us in some way as well.

and that's where we're at.


[ooc: Feel free to threadjack and discuss amongst each other in this post. I don't mind!]
07 January 2015 @ 05:27 pm
Boy, that was a close one! That gas formation was a clever trick.

Hello there.

I know I've already spoken to some of you—I had hoped to do this individually—but it appears we need to move things along more quickly than we'd realized. That ship of yours seems eager to shake us, and we simply can't let that happen.

My name is Lina Barnez. The rest of the team and I have been working on contacting the Tranquility for some time. Unfortunately, our tech isn't perfectly compatible with what you're running on. It hasn't been easy, but we're managing. I don't know how long we'll have.

We're here to help you, but in order to do that, we'll need you to help us. You've been through a lot on this ship: it's a miracle so many of you are still with us. We'd like to make sure you stay that way, but we can only do that if you're completely honest with us.

We know about the events on Strela, the Cyllene and Arima, as well as the Scylla. What happened to those poor people was not your fault, and you have my word that we have no plans to hold you responsible for those events.

But we need to work together to make sure it doesn't happen again. The more you tell us about what's been going on aboard the Tranquility, the more we can do.

[ NOTE: All conversations will be cut off before too long by the engines suddenly powering back up, and the jump alarm sounding to alert characters to proceed to medbay immediately. ]
30 November 2014 @ 08:54 pm
[Those that have met Jack Harkness before on any one of the thirty-seven jumps that he's inhabited the ship may be surprised by his appearance on camera in this moment. He looks haggard. Like he hasn't slept in days - which he hasn't. More days than even he should be able to stretch things. He'd been doing so well, before. They'd all been doing so well. He had let himself relax. He had been starting to make friends, at last. He had let himself be deluded into thinking that he might be able to be happy, here. That this might be permanent, and that he was okay with that.

It's enough to make him want to cry, in retrospect.]

Ianto Jones. Has anyone heard from him, after the... After everything calmed down? He's not answering his comms. It's not like him to just. Disappear.

[Best case scenario is that he's lost. Jack has been looking, as best he can on his own, for every day he can, since it became clear that he was missing, hence the lack of sleep. But one man can only do so much out there. Worst case scenario is... Hell, even best-case scenario isn't good. If he's lost, he's stuck down there, and there's a jump coming up. Jack's trying hard not to think about it, but. The closer it gets, the more it weighs on him.]
09 October 2014 @ 12:06 pm
[ Simon comes into view unsmiling and still, standing framed by one of the unadorned walls of his room. ]

Those of you who aren't human. Or are more than only human. If you lie low, or pass, or hide—why? [ He's quiet, with an Irish accent and a cadence that's steady verging on mumbly, and intently focused. He's not uncomfortable, not fidgety or uncertain, but he isn't quite at ease, either, in front of a camera. He's only using video to make a display of his bloodless face and white eyes. ] Has something happened to you here? Or is it a habit you've carried from home?

We may not be in the minority, altogether.

[ That's less threatening than we could outnumber them, right? Right.

That's also the end of what he'd planned to say ahead of time; he shifts back from the screen, looks aside, and nearly disconnects before more occurs to him. ]

If you want to talk and don't trust this to stay private, I'm in room two hundred on the third floor. You can... [ Leave a note, he almost said, but he's yet to see paper or pens. He raises his eyebrows like a shrug. ] Paint your answer on the wall.

Or knock. I'll be here.
19 September 2014 @ 01:33 am
Got two things to ask and one thing to offer. I'll try to make it short and sweet.

QUESTION 1: What destroyed or depopulated your version of Earth? Nukes, asteroids, zombies? If nothing did yet, what took the closest shot so far?

Same question if you're not from Earth - just swap out Earth for wherever you came from.

I'm not compiling a spreadsheet or anything. I guess it's just something I've wondered.

QUESTION 2: What are we even doing here? What's our destination? The purpose of the voyage? Who sent us, and why us? Maybe I missed something and by all means point me there if I did, but in less than a day, this ship sucks up more resources than the Ark could spare for a month.

I've been here for over a month now and I'm the first person I've seen ask anything like this so far. I want to think it's because we were up to our airholes in highly invasive nanotechnology. Or - like I said, maybe I missed the big 'who, what, where, and why' memo.

OFFER: I'm bored off my rocks, if you haven't picked up on that yet. I was a zero-G mech back on the Ark, and if that's not enough, I helped fix the thing that saved your asses pre-Jump. I can repair, rebuild, or build from scrap just about anything you can think of. So somebody give me a job before I start opening panels and improving whatever the hell's inside.

[ is she serious? she very well could be, so throw her a bone here, yeah? ]
Hello, Tranquility. This is Doctor Knutson, co-head of Xenobiology and Genetics. I understand this illness has escalated at an alarming rate, and that many of us are experiencing symptoms far beyond what one expects from a strain of influenza.

Specifically, many of us are mutating.

[ If she sounds a little concerned about that, it could be because it's very concerning, and the proper weight needs to be given to the subject. What she doesn't sound is alarmed. Then again, this post is noticeably lacking a visual. ]

It would greatly help the department if we had a better idea of what sort of mutations the ship's population is experiencing. If you would be so kind, please either respond to this message, or stop by the XenoGen laboratories or Medical. Species and the nature of your affliction will be very helpful information. Your condition will be kept confidential, should you choose to respond to me, or one of my staff, in private. Anonymous replies are accepted, though not encouraged.

Please seek out Medical, myself, Professor Xavier, or Doctor Grimm regarding this. Thank you for your time and cooperation.
23 August 2014 @ 11:57 am
This isn't the most pleasant of welcomes, is it? Symptoms seem to reflect impaired circulation to the brain. I'm no doctor, but I would suggest everybody increase their salt intake, orally or intravenously, and perhaps the ship-wide oxygen levels should be tested — independently of the regular instruments, if possible.

I have several questions:

Is it true that the higher floors are currently uninhabitable, and for what reason?

If I were looking to trade potentially valuable possessions or my artistic talents for some personal items I require, is there some sort of market or bartering system?

Is there any organized news system or newsletter circulated among ship residents or does blogging suffice? Is this network monitored? Censored?

Is there an agreed upon legal code or list of established rights of sapience (human or otherwise) that Security personnel enforce?

Thank you for your time.
17 August 2014 @ 05:10 pm
( milagros lacks that quintessential 'new person awkwardness' when makes her first visual address to the network; she regards the comm device with a faintly resigned weariness, instead, like it's kind of an inconvenience to break into her day to do this, but not sufficiently without value to not bother doing it. she's currently sitting in medical, familiarizing herself with patient charts and histories, which was probably the point at which she went 'maybe more than a handful of people should know who the fuck I am'. )

My name is Dr Gallo, and as of this jump cycle I'm a new addition to your medical team. For the sake of transparency, I've been primarily in research for most of my career; my background is in biotechnology and biomedical engineering. I am perfectly qualified to act as general physician and trauma response, but I've never had need or inclination to develop a bedside manner and I expect it leaves something to be desired.

( crisply english, all the efficiency and good old stiff upper lip the accent implies. she's head-to-toe in well tailored black, with gold rose-thorn small hoop earrings, and from her attire to her demeanor really doesn't seem like someone who's spent an awful lot of time dealing with patients. or developing patience, for that matter. )

I'm sure we'll muddle through. Please feel free to come and see me if you have any immediate needs or concerns; I won't make myself difficult to find.
10 August 2014 @ 01:04 pm
[When the video transmission starts, there’s a rather neat and tidy man in a suit, seated in one of the passenger quarters.]

I’ll give it to this place, this has to be one of the oddest awakenings I’ve had. Still doesn’t beat Nepal though…

[The last part is muttered, almost to himself, before he turned back to the camera, all business.]

Not to ask the same question twice, but I’d like to go home as much as the next person, so perhaps I’ll save on some of the legwork and reach out. How can I help make sure this ship reaches its destination in one piece? I do have military training and my information gathering skills can be useful.

[There’s a small pause, and then he smiles, a small almost innocent look.]

Also I’m rather decent at poker, if that will help us any. So, who’s recruiting?
17 July 2014 @ 12:18 pm
Hey everyone.

I'm sure some sort of demographics survey has been done in the past but I haven't seen one since I've been here and I'm curious. I've tried to keep it pretty basic. I know people are touchy about their privacy, and I know some aren't cool with being asked about special abilities/skills/powers/whatever, so obviously skip questions if you want to, no hard feelings. I'd rather just get name/age/planet than nothing at all, you know? Not like I'm going to hunt you down and force you to fill it out. But if you're willing to be more complete that'd be awesome and if there's something you think is important that I didn't include a field for, let me know.

Maybe there's a pattern here somewhere, maybe there's not, but at the very least it might be interesting or provide some useful data for department recruitment or something. Maybe you'll find some friends, whatever.


UPDATE: On request from several of our fellow passengers, I'm adding a 'relationship status' field. You're all welcome. Feel free to edit/update your entries accordingly if you want to.

(ooc: feel free to treat this as threadjack city as far as I'm concerned. if you squint it's kind of almost like an ic cr meme?)
15 July 2014 @ 05:24 pm
[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?
10 July 2014 @ 07:18 pm
So it's come to my attention that i'm one of the last ones left on the medical team on board. And now, the one who's been here the longest. [ Peter sounds a touch strained - for a variety of reasons - maybe a little on the tired side. But he's altogether more than willing to be doing this and he sounds enough like it to get by. ]

My name is Peter Petrelli and I woke up from a month long coma to find out that the entire department is under my control. I know I've missed a lot, but that doesn't change the fact that i'm happy to take on the mantle. What that doesn't mean is that I'm planning on trying run the whole thing by myself or considering ruling with an iron fist for my own benefit. But I might as well take the position that's been handed to me by way of default and make the most of it.

For those of you who don't know - who're new around here and haven't heard about it yet, we've got jobs that're set up by departments. That's the simplified version. If you want to hear more about all of them, I might not be the perfect person to ask considering I don't know everything about all of them. But if you're looking for a job doing something, ask around. There's more than enough opportunities for everyone.

But that's not what i'm trying to get at. [ A pause, only noteworthy because of the sigh that follows. ]

After missing a jump and the entire month that followed, i'm pretty sure i'm behind on who all's now in medical and who might want to be. Half of all I want is to meet everyone who's joined that I haven't met already, make sure i've got an actual grip on things. The other half is to try and find anyone who's interested in joining. We'll take anyone who thinks they can offer any kind of help - we're lacking in staff right now, or we were last I knew, and finding some more help would be appreciated.

Or if you just want to stop by the med bay to talk about it in person, feel free to. I'm here now if anyone's interested - I won't be going anywhere anytime soon.
08 July 2014 @ 10:16 pm
[Marissa turns on the video the day after the jump. She clears her throat, turning the device so it frames her face just so. The first thing that's obvious is that she has a gnarly black-eye, courtesy of Hanna. The background is just a wall with no distinctive marks. It also may be strange that she's wearing dark gloves. Another strange thing is, she might look a lot like your resident psychic elf and queen of England...

She smiles, and to some it might be a reassuring smile, but to some others, it might be a little off. Her accent is Southern, and her voice is authoritative.
] Hello. My name's Marissa Wiegler. I wanted to explain the debacle that was yesterday.

There is a girl on this ship. Her name is Hanna. She is a very disturbed girl. Her father has brainwashed her into thinking I would do her harm, turning her into a deadly weapon for his own selfish benefit. She is highly dangerous and manipulative. I don't recommend talking to her or interacting with her at all.

She has already assaulted me once. It won't happen again. I will be in hiding until I can be sure that I will be safe. Do not be fooled. She was genetically altered to be the perfect soldier.

Trust me. And stay safe.

[And she turns off the feed. For the curious, this is the ongoing thread of the 'debacle'.]