I NEEd chains.

[ That's it. That's what you get. Oh, no, wait. She knows exactly what Stiles and Kira would suggest in this moment. She should ask nicely. It's less effort over text than in person, so even though she's rolling around miserably right now because she had it on good authority that weres don't really get sick unless it's wolfsbane, she can manage. ]

Please. :)

[ Be friendly!! ]

I am the shieldmaiden Lagertha. I was among those who vanished into the corridors just before the nightmare began.

[ to put it nicely. ] There was no sign of my son during my wanderings.

For almost two months, several of you have told me that he isn't here. Or that giving up is the best thing to do. I never will.

[ too bad. the world has jaded her in a million ways and one. but bjorn is all she has left. without him, she has nothing. that just is not acceptable to her. it's bull-headed of her, but it isn't as though she cares. ]

However; I understand that rushing off blindly without a plan is hardly the wisest plan ever made. So, while I form one, I'd like to spar with as many of you as possible. To build up my strength.

[ if she doesn't, she'll go mad. ] Win or lose, there's still a pint or two of ale in it for you if you'd like to try besting me.

[Johanna flicks on the video with a glare. The room around her is dark; the screen lights her face from below. When she speaks, her voice is a little rough and hoarse, like she's been shouting a lot, very recently. (She has.)]

Hi, friends. [She bites out the word.] Just a little message for you all. You've all gotten really comfortable on this hunk of junk you're calling a ship--or what's passing as a ship-- [And she manages a little smirk at that--] --which, come on, it's crap. But I get it, it's not yours. You're all just prisoners here, it did some horrible things to you... yeah.

And that's where this comes in.

[She holds up her arm, where her tattoo is clearly stamped out, fresh and new.]

See this thing? This isn't a fashion accessory. This is bullshit. The last time someone shoved something in my arm and told me to smile and get on with my life, I didn't put up with it. I'm getting this thing out of myself, and if any of you have any sense--you'll do the same. You wonder how they get to you? It's things like this. But I'll bet you already knew that.

Well, fuck that. Fuck all of it. I'm not doing that again.

You want us to join up and help you run this ship? --Or resist this ship, or fight whatever you think is here? Here's my offer. First person that tells me how to get this thing out of my arm without dying, I'll join whatever they're running. And you want me on your side.

[JOHANNA OUT.]

[ The feed starts with static, thin and crackling. There's the trace of a voice coming through, short interrupted clips that eventually resolve into a steady and markedly sarcastic tone. ]

—ing in with the soporific discovery of yet another corridor that is very unexpectedly abandoned. And also not where it's meant to be on your bloody maps, by the way. You'd have better luck navigating Neverland.

I'd rather be navigating Neverland. [ Emma's scowled dismissal is easily distinguished in the background. ] I thought you said you knew how to do this? [ So much for trusting the pirate to know how to navigate. ]

Is this a pirate thing? [ Kate is going to make equally helpful contributions to this conversation, her tone dry. ] Inability to navigate except on water? Or did you get lost on your own ship, too?

Oh, I know how to navigate a ship—

Are you still broadcasting this? [ Reaching her hand out, Emma demands the device from him. ] Gimme that. [ A short wrestling match later, she wrestles it out of his hand. You can tell because she's louder. ] If you don't have anything to report, don't report it. [ With that flat scolding, she terminates the feed. ]

( ooc; Purple = Kate, red = Emma, black = Hook. This is open to all other fireteams and everyone back at the home base, threadjacking highly encouraged! )

[ The camera is met with an angry-looking Kate, one angle of her jaw flexing as teeth clench. Her forearms are folded on the tabletop in front of her and she leans her weight onto them. The way she launches right in gives the impression she's been holding back this bad mood for a while before giving in. ]

Okay, so first of all, whoever stole my bow at the jump: bring it back. It's a cheap piece of crap anyway and it's not like we have arrows laying around but it's the only one I have here and there aren't any more in the armory and it's not exactly an inconspicuous weapon so what are you even going to do with it without me finding you?? Seriously, just bring it back before you damage it somehow and I promise I won't hit you with it no matter how tempted I am.

And speaking of people around here being total assholes [ Because whatever, she's started now and trying to make her no-hitting promise sincere just has the frustration shunting off into another topic, ], is someone turning people into animals seriously allowed now? That's just a thing we're cool with, going to let that slide on by, no brig time involved? [ She's not generally a very animated speaker but her hands twist off the table into the air into a 'seriously?' gesture. ] FYI never annoy this Gold guy because I guess he can just turn you into a cat if he feels like it and nobody will ever do anything. If I disappear after posting this be on the look-out for new pets wandering around or something. On second thought maybe that'd be a nice change from this place's bullshit for a while. Gold, if you're watching, just make it a dog or a bird or something, alright? Cool.

[ It's hard to make a dramatic exit on a touch-screen device but she pushes the STOP button as abruptly as she can anyway. Hawkeye out. Nope, wait, spoke too soon. It starts up again after a second just long enough for her to shout: ]

And bring me back my god damn bow!

[ Okay, now it's done. ]

[When Emma had suggested making friends might help get her back to Henry, Regina had scoffed. But magic hasn't helped her, and she's running out of ideas.

Which is why she's currently sitting primly in the kitchen and with exactly as friendly a smile as she can muster up. It's more or less effective.]

I made some lasagna. There's a lot of it. I'd be willing to share, if anyone's hungry.

[People like food. Give them food and they'll like you, right?

Maybe she should have baked cookies or a pie instead.]

[ she did not often use this device. it is distasteful still, no matter how long she's been here now. no matter how long she will be here.

but she is aware that certain things needed to be said. there's a tremor to her hands that no one will be able to see, but she feels and it's enough to unnerve and unsettle.

aithusa was here. she was here. her ally, her friend. and it brought excitement. and pain.

the feed pans to the gardens, before stopping on morgana. her hair is in disarray as usual, black dress and pale skin. but normally tired eyes have a sharpness to them again, and fix the device with a hard stare. ] This place does little to cease its torments, it has no right -

[ there's a rumble, throaty and slight, beside her, off screen. she glances briefly down. she was glad to see the creature, but she was just as equally angry. this ship had no right. if she was subjected to its whims, it did not mean this poor, deformed dragon had to be, as well. she straightens though, composure unwavering whilst on display. ]

I will say this once. In the Gardens, there is a dragon. She is my ally - [ there's an emphasis to the word. ] - And is not to be touched. Not to be harmed.

You will not want to know what will follow if my words are not listened to. [ it's a threat, and she doesn't care how subtle - or otherwise - it sounds. in her world, where she should still be, morgana would have thought hard before announcing such. but here…well, the gardens were only so big. sooner or later aithusa would be noticed.

best all who listen be aware of it now. ] I trust I am understood.

[ authority, unquestionable and final, and the feed ends. ]

[ action; if anyone would like, she is in the gardens, found with this dragon. ]

[Crowley has been on the ship for hours.

The whole business was rather unpleasant, as is being branded like some kind of animal, but all in all, the demon is rather unruffled. Transport into another universe was something of another day's work, though it was an alarming coincidence that it occurred so closely to his greatest victory. Was this his punishment for his involvement with defeating the Leviathan?

Unlikely, the demon decides, and so he goes about his business.

First, it is a matter of discovering his locker, of removing his things, and of disappearing. He has little interest in socializing immediately and, as a result, Crowley vanishes into the shadows to dwell and think -- and, most importantly, learn. Within the hour, Crowley has all he needs to know at his fingertips, and with a flick of his fingers, his comm turns on to broadcast his soft accented English to the Tranquility.]

I'm afraid I require a bit of explanation as to why, exactly, someone thought it would be humorous to shove a Hellhound into a test tube.

[There's an artful pause.]

And also the location of the nearest groomer. This filth is absolutely disgusting.

[There's another three second pause before his own transmission ends.

Let's see who decides to come forward with information about why he, the demon King, is here.]

Once upon a time in a faraway spaceship.

Do continue the tale according to your own imagination and while you think, however long that will take -

What do you know of magic? aside for fairy dust and happily ever after.

[ this post is 95% sarcasm. ]

So many secrets aboard one ship and such a wonderful fate awaits those who try and solve them.

[ she's bothered, Regina. She likes knowing against who she plays and this uncertainty unnerves her. Evil queen or not, she takes no pleasure in children dying. She is sitting in her room, her jacket thrown on a chair next to her. So many questions and not one answer. ]

Asking for answers is a bit much, evidently. I'll ask this then, who do you believe have them on the ship, the two people who were here before and somehow are miraculously still present or the Red Cheshire Cat who has taken to smiling from the shadows?

All roads in Wonderland belong to the Queen of Hearts.

Who do the roads aboard the Tranquility belong to?

[ 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! ]

[ a lone figure stands in the Oxygen Gardens (one of the higher floors) surrounded by trees that shadow and shield him as much as holding his back to the camera does. his celestial bronze sword is out and every time his wrist moves, his feet shuffle or the wind sways him, the blade glints. he's wearing cargo shorts and a Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, though his dark hoody blots out the bright orange. his voice (when he speaks) isn't louder than it needs to be, no more than his sneaker cracking twigs. ] A long time ago, I believed the gods had everything figured out.

They had misguided intentions because they couldn't directly interfere but they were trying; to be better, to do better than before. [ his head drops, heavy on his neck and his shoulders. ] But what's the point in being able to predict the future if you keep repeating the same mistakes? If you're so detached from the world that you can't be involved in it, that you can't stop a blade of grass from dying, let alone a person? What's the point of living forever [ he lowers his sword, sinks the tip into earth, glares down at it like it's the root of his problems ] if the only thing you're going to do - if the only thing you can do - is pat someone on the shoulder and shove them into harm's way, time and time again, to do your dirty work?

[ he's not drunk; he doesn't drink. but what he's saying, the conclusions he's uttering are almost out of his control, gone before he can pull them back. they're everything he's ever thought but never intended to say out loud, where he can't pretend it doesn't bother him, that it doesn't keep him awake at night. ] If your only purpose is to safeguard your family but you can't even do that right, what's the point?

[ Anaklusmos shreds grass when he rips it from the ground and he turns, looks into the camera and in the little burrowed patch that's half branch overhang but with a large enough field for one or two people to train in, it's dark enough to obscure his face but light enough to play tricks. is there- is that armor on his face . . . or? (or is he like so many others lately, fallen prey to a mask?) it doesn't matter because the feed times out when he adjusts his sword arm (rolls out an ache in his shoulder) prepared to swing at a dummy that's certainly seen better days, considering it's slanting off a pole, splitting on one side, half an arm missing and it looks suspiciously like its head (compiled of sheets and other miscellaneous gathered goods) is about to fall off. ]

Tranquility.

[ The greeting comes from a woman who is longing about in a chair, all heels, business wear and red lips. She looks calm or at least, calm enough given the situation. There is a smile on her lips, as if this amuses her on a certain level.

But if her smile is silk her eyes are steel. ]

Quite a predicament, this is. My arrival seemed to be in tune with the message from our -

[ a faux! pensive pause ]

-- Graceful companion.

I will not ask of how one leaves or why are we here, as I have no intention to waste your time or my own. I will make one inquiry.

[ her voice turns strict, as if she is used to be making inquiries. ]

I am in search of a child. His name is Henry Mills, he is ten years old. If there is such a passenger aboard this ship, I would have him sent to me, I am his mother.

[ a pause; and then, another. ]

I would also ask of the portal through which we came here. I know all gain consciousness in what you call the couches. I mean to ask if we have knowledge of the portal through which we are transferred into the couches.

[ another smile, almost pleasant this time. ]

Much obliged.

[ and that would be all; there is a very limited amount of time in which Regina Mills can pretend to be nice. ]