[ close on stiles stilinski, wearing a party hat with the elastic under his chin and looking more keyed up and happy than he has in at least a month. ]

Check it out. For those of you who haven’t met him, I’m pleased to introduce my bestest of best bros... Scott McCall!

[ come on down! he turns the communicator around to film scott, who’s seated on the bed and reading (in theory). he’s got a matching party hat on, and he flashes a broad smile in greeting. ]

Go team Jacob.

[ which is as much of a hello as he’s giving, apparently, but it might clarify exactly what book he’s got. stiles is still doing voice-over: ]

He’s totally brand spanking new, fresh off the production line, so if you think you’ve met him before? Bzzt, nope, you’re wrong, keep it to yourself.

[ with shakycam to rival cloverfield, the camera swings back around to stiles, whose general hyperactivity slips, for a moment, into a no-i’m-serious-do-not-fuck-with-me face. judgmental eyebrows and everything. it’s intense. ]

It’s this whole alternate universe schtick. Crazy, huh? I know, way too sci-fi. We’re on a spaceship, deal with it. Uh, so...

[ he’s interrupted by scott jumping off the bed to hijack the communicator. once he’s got it, he holds it slightly too close to his face while declaring in a very solemn, very official (except for the part where he’s almost laughing) voice: ]

May the Force be wi—

[ stiles’ hand slaps abruptly over his mouth because that isn't a funny joke when there are actual jedi on board, scott, and the communicator, after a brief staticky scramble, goes dead. that’s all folks! ]

[ There's the whisper of not-quite silence that indicates the device is recording, followed by the sounds of someone obviously fiddling with it, like Emily's realized what a bad idea showing her face to the network could be, and might just turn the device off and call it a day. It takes a minute, but the video eventually clicks on. ]

So.

[ No going back now... ]

Everyone's got this moniker that their parents gave them, and it stays with you- its, really, the only thing that can't take it on the heel and toe, dig? And- I mean, there's gotta be some thought that goes into giving a person a name, like... your parents know you're coming and they've got all these gowed-up hopes, savvy? That you're gonna be this tomato of a doll, that you're gonna be a right gee, that maybe you'll end up a little bit like both of them- [ A glance off screen, chewing on her bottom lip. ] Or nothing like either of them...

But they've gotta choose this moniker that's going to stay with you for the rest of your life, that stands to define you, and--

[ A hopeless look, like this is the edited and condensed version of a much longer conversation she's had over and over with herself- one she's well past frustrated with. ]

How does someone do that?

Ladies and gentlemen of the Tranquility, good evening.

[From the video, you can see Albert is seated somewhere in the oxygen gardens, on a wide-open patch of grass. He looks somewhat contemplative.]

I have a-- a somewhat personal question to ask of you all, so don't feel compelled to answer if you don't wish to. [He seems to hesitate, and then he plunges ahead quickly, as if he must ask it before he loses courage.]

How many of you here believed yourselves to have passed away before you woke up in this place?

And-- for those of you who don't want to talk about something quite so morbid, maybe you could tell me what year, or what country, or planet you come from. I'd... really like to hear about other people's homes. As for me-- I'm from Paris, France, the year 5053.

I've also got some tea and plenty of cups to go around here in the garden, if you'd prefer to speak in person. I'd welcome the company, and the chance to meet all of you.

[this is Stilinski's first time using the video function, because hey this guy doesn't even use Skype back home, why would he do it on the Tranquility. still, he has a question and he's not really sure who to ask so why not ask everyone, right? this is supposed to be a forum.]

I hope with the most recent injuries people are going to be exercising a little more caution up here. We can't keep you people safe if you keep running off into the ship.

[he's been around medical, he knows how hard the staff are working, and he isn't going ot elaborate because while he's on security, it isn't his job to police people. not until he gets that order.]

Got a question for ya though. Is it normal to get things in your locker that aren't yours?

[his expression crinkles, because he knows how that sounds.]

I don't mean something significant that isn't yours, like a picture or- or a ring that belonged to someone you knew. But I mean, something you've never seen before in your life.

[and because that isn't all that clear and because he honestly doesn't know that this is a potentially dangerous substance, he holds the bottle up.]

I thought this was gun powder or a spice or something, but, it isn't. And I have no idea what it is.

[he looks at it again, shrugs, sets it down, and ends the transmission.]

[It's a rare video post from Edgeworth. He looks tired, but he seems less depressed than he did a few hours ago; he's focusing on his anger to carry him through.]

Security has a certain amount of the ship secured. These areas are the ones we patrol, the ones you're all accustomed to: the passenger quarters, the oxygen gardens, the medical bay, et cetera. The areas in which you reside. If you stay within those boundaries, we try to keep you safe to the fullest of our abilities; though our manpower is limited, we will do what we can.

If you stray, then we can do nothing. As I said, our manpower is limited, and beyond where we have secured, it is essentially enemy territory. So all of you, no matter how impressed you are with your survival skills and abilities, needs to treat it like enemy territory. It isn't a place to have a walk. It isn't a place to go out and search for monsters so that you can get your fun cracking a few heads. It isn't a research lab. It is a place fraught with danger, and if you go out there, you run the risk of death.

So if you go out, then you will treat it like it is enemy territory. You will not go out alone. You will not go out unarmed. You will not go out without notifying security. If you fail to do any of these things, then you should damn well compose your suicide note to your friends on-board, because you're very likely going to die. And while security isn't ever going to leave anyone to die, you can't treat this ship like an amusement park and expect to live to see the next jump.

[And he glares at the camera a moment longer - and then he glances off to the side, his lips relaxing very slightly.]

Condolences. To those who knew them.

[the video clicks on to one squinting Sheriff Stilinski, like he's not entirely sure if he's working this thing correctly because okay, he might not be a huge failure with technology but his knowledge doesn't extend passed the iPhone that he got for Stiles.

but even he can work out how to click on something and hear it play, and that recent post? well that's definitely put this sheriff on high alert.]

I can handle the being abducted by aliens onto a space ship. Hell, I can even handle the fact that we've got movie and comic book characters running around. But that? [he hopes he doesn't need to explain what that is] I can see where all the paranoia is coming from.

I know we're all tryin' to get organized, and I'll be the first to lend a hand, but right now I need a headcount:

Who here is from Beacon Hills?


[ooc; now with less fail, i apologize to everyone /deadcat]

[ there's a hesitation before the feed clicks on, a long, long moment where Melissa's fingers hover over the key that she doesn't immediately press down on because frankly? there isn't enough time in the world to prepare for this. she's spent the last four hours going back and forth between her room and the shuttle bay to look at the stars, like that might somehow confirm it. for sure this time.

okay Melissa seriously, it's now or never, you're supposed to be an adult here.
ughhhh the longest sigh ever and her head hangs on the exhale. okay, she's gonna do it. OKAY! click. ]


Um.




....Hi.
[ wow you're doing really great here Melissa. you're really onto something. hey audience, that's just the most nervous laugh you've ever heard in your life. ]

My name's Melissa. Melissa McCall? Look- I know there's a lot going on around here, but, I'm, the thing is- I'm trying to find my son. His name's Scott. He's got really adorable brown eyes, and he's- 5'9. Look for a lanky mop of brown hair walking around with a shorter boy with a shaved head- they're probably getting into all kinds of trouble. A little hard to miss come to think of it- Anyway. If you, any of you, see them, at all- [ her hands stop fluttering in the air just long enough to lock together infront of her, obscuring the dark blue of the hospital scrubs she's wearing. ]

Could you please call me? Or, let me know somehow?
Thanks.