This is Shepard, formerly Commander of the SSV Normandy. On the topic of signing up to do work, we've got huge unexplored sectors of this ship and that should be remedied. The ship changes at the jump [--or hell, mid-month--] but if we don't try to map it, we can't know if there's any kind of pattern to the changes. [And somewhere out there, there has to be a secondary control central for the ship seeing as no one was on the bridge when they took it.] As far as I see it: the more intel we can get, the better. And I don't know about the rest of you but I'm sick of either running blind or just waiting for something to happen.

I also realize I'm talking about dangerous work. I'm not here to tell anyone what to do, but if you're looking to help and want to volunteer then I'm all for building small scouting teams with mandatory check ins, written reports and posted communication lines. [With the unspoken message being: look, you're only cannon fodder if you don't write about it first.] I'm planning to go off the last known schematic we have of the ship. I've attached it to this message in case you haven't seen it as well as well as a short survey for anyone interested in volunteering. I'm looking to build at least five groups of three to four with a contact for each running and recording communications from a secure location.

Experience with field-ops is a bonus, but not a requirement. Weapons training is mandatory for anyone on a scouting team. If you don't have it, get it. If you don't know where to go, talk to Gunnery. For anyone looking to help with comms, technical skill is a bonus. Additionally if anyone out there has workable ideas about how to boost the network signal to deal with the ship's dead zones, I'll personally buy you a drink.

I'd appreciate cooperation with Security and Ops, but I won't argue with anyone who doesn't feel like backing this. Again: the is strictly on a volunteer basis only.

[As promised, attached to this message is a partial map of the ship and a short text document since everyone on the TQ loves surveys:]

Name:
Crew Number:
Previous Occupation:
Applicable Skills:

[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! )

[...there's a second of white noise, because-- well, this is weird. It's like online chatrooms, which Mitchell has never been keen on, to say the least. One on one communication hasn't been so bad--better, actually, considering he's been mostly holed up in his room, avoiding human/werewolf contact. But, right--necessity--]

If people are going t' go through those tubes and get onto that other ship, do their phones keep on working? These devices, I mean. Do they go that far? If they do, and if this can be heard over there, I'm making a request. Space pirates had to have cigarettes on them, yeah, and I'm in need of cigarettes. Sanctioned looting can include a bit of personal stuff, yeah-- and it's sort of a, a desperate need. Please and thanks in advance.

[Like very desperate. Like the more he talks about it, the more strained his voice goes. Vampires with nicotine addictions, it's a hard life. A pause, then, he might finish there--but instead he sucks in a breath. Right. Normal.]

Actually, there's a lot of questions on how things work around here, and not all of it is out of our control. Like--so there's a cast of, what, a hundred plus of us, and we have t' trade for things that we need, if someone else has got them. But if you don't have anything t' trade, is it just-- begging for it? Hoping for a bit of Christian charity? Every man for himself? Not that I'd be much surprised by that one, given the... [Maybe it's better not to finish that one, in light of recent events, but given his low faith in humanity, and given his own recent exploints, none this is really all that surprising. So, wry once more:] ...given the situation.

[An awkward pause.]

Anyways. Thanks again.

[Godric has been scarce during the invasion by the Scylla's crew, and for good reason. But he's been paying attention. He's in the emergency shuttle bay when he turns on the video, and evidence of the pirates is immediately apparent. There are supplies and equipment, some of it packed away, some of it scattered on the floor in disarray. But more concerning are the devices attached to the walls, the floor, and even the door -- clearly explosives of some sort. An escape plan, or a defensive perimeter. It would be more alarming, but for the fact that all the devices look still and quiet, void of frightening red lights or ominous noises.

Perhaps most eye-catching of all is the message written above the two tubes protruding from the outer hull of the Tranquility:

MAKE IT QUICK...

Godric turns the video onto himself, and addresses anyone watching.]

It seems our friend has left us a note.

[Usually, this would be locked to Security. But with Tyke out of commission, it's probably a moot point.]

[The feed crackles on to show a man leaning in close to the camera over some kind of console. Everything about him seems dry and harsh, from the lines of his features to the colour of his eyes, like too much sun and dust has sapped all the softness out of him. And his voice — when he finally speaks after a long moment of simply looking silently at the camera — is a light, husky tone, rough-edged.]

Tranquility. [A pause.] I am Felix Laurens, I am captain of the Scylla. My crew and I are boarding this vessel. We will take what we want from it, and then we will leave.

[A very long pause, where he seems to be considering something, looking at the camera silently.]

Keep out of our way and you won't be harmed.

[And with that, he's done with the message. He turns and walks away from the camera, revealing a view of the room behind him — though much smaller and less well-kept, it's a clear match to the shuttle bay. Part of a blonde head ducks into view after Laurens finishes speaking, clearly trying to find the 'off' switch for the console.]

Did he just—every time. Every fucking time.

[That remark garners him a bony elbow to the ribs, sneaking in from just out of sight to jab hard at his exposed side, voice quiet but still impatient.] Shut up. [Extending her arm out a little more to jab at the console, Hayes severs the transmission.]

[Simon's not exactly used to filming himself, but the video is still perfectly centered when he begins. He sits down, briefly returning to that old habit of making sure that his bangs are swept perfectly to one side before he starts to speak.]

[His orange jumpsuit hangs in the background. He’s wearing the generic ship one because it's cool. ...If you're Simon, it's cool.]

I've been aboard this spaceship for two days now. So far I've heard a lot of what to do and what not to do. But can anyone tell me why I was chosen?

[Simon glances about nervously, but his eyes are glossy with excitement when he looks back.]

I'd also like to know if there are any extraterrestrials on board. Like in Star Voyage 13.

[Yeah, he has the box set of 1 through 12 too.]

I-I mean you no harm, I've just always wanted to meet one.

[ 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! ]

[ for once, no one has to deal with faith and jaye's ridiculous mess of a room. instead the feed opens on faith's old room, which is dusty at worst. ]

Okay, so. Here's the thing-- no disrespect to fight club and all, I'm a fan. Sparring's cool for the little stuff, but it doesn't hit that real itch.

[ which would be killing, for all of you who don't speak crazy slayer. ]

So, here's what we got. Nerd wing overrun with those rat things, and looks like they're planning to just chill there for now. I'm thinking... fish with bitchin' teeth, barrel. Math's not all that hard.

Tyke already covered the general deal-- you wanna head out on your own good luck with that and mazel tov I guess, try not to bleed all over. Gets shit slippery, makes it a bitch for the rest of us. [ she shrugs one shoulder, rueful. it's true okay, geez. ] What I'm looking for is a hunting party. Fast and lean-- I got enough gear for me and maybe like three other people. Anybody who can bring their own shit to the table's welcome, but I get final call.

You wanna showboat and play hero, I got no use for you. And if you feel like you gotta prove your dick's the biggest skip the fight and just go ahead and whip it out right now, see what happens. Lonely in space, might get a couple takers for that. [ she grins, all teeth. ] All right, what else. You can't keep up, I don't need you. You can't take orders, I don't need you. You can't work nice with the other kids, I really don't need you. And no offense to the 101 crowd, but I'm not looking to babysit. You can't take care of yourself, don't need you either. Nothing personal.

I don't give a shit about attitude as long as you listen the fuck up, you stay low, and you don't get dead because that'd suck pretty hard for you. Plus then we gotta bring you back and if I bring back bodybags, boss lady's gonna get pissed and cut off my access to the party room and then I'm gonna get pissed. So no stupid moves, no dying, everybody's happy.

And if you wanna know why I'm in charge, other than 'cos I said so? [ she pans the camera over to the entirety of her weapons collection, a few clearly less high quality and more homemade blades joining the throng. ] Because they're my toys, and if you wanna play with them you have to ask nice.

[ she's such a delicate flower. ]

If you're down, we'll talk experience.



( ooc | depending on ic interest in actually going out, we can talk logs and/or handwaving etc. )

[ Elena doesn't have the time to make herself presentable for the network, let alone set up a video post for this one. She almost thought about texting the question out because she can feel the panic leaving her throat the moment she opens her mouth. ]

Has anyone seen Jeremy? Gilbert, I mean. My brother. I know he hasn't been here for that long, but if someone knows where he is, can you please tell me? I haven't seen him since the whole jump thing and I can't get a hold of him.

Everyone's been talking about making sure we keep an eye on each other, so this probably makes me sound like the worst sister ever. But I need to know if he's okay, and that he's not... [ She lets herself trail off and the thought hang in the air as she feels its weight slowly crushing her. She can't even verbalize it. Denial, thy name is Elena Gilbert. So, she's tries that again: ] I just need to know if he's okay. Uhm, thanks.

( ( locked to mystic falls crew ) )

Well, hey there folks.

[The Mayor sits in his room, smiling cheerfully down at his communicator. He's a nice-looking man with a friendly voice and a kindly demeanor.]

Wow - what an adventure, huh? [He raises a hand to forestall arguments.] Now, before anyone gets mad at me, I'm not saying, "Gee, it's great to be here." I've got plenty to get back to - heck, I'm the mayor of the greatest city there is, and I don't want it to have to get along without me! But that doesn't make this anything less than an adventure, and I say even if we're mad or sad or something we still make the best of it.

So let's start out with introductions! "We all already know each other," you're probably all groaning, and I say to that, settle down, let me catch up a little. I'm Mayor Richard Wilkins of Sunnydale. And I'm really glad to meet each and every one of you, and I'm looking forward to having more adventures with you all!

And now it's your turn. Be nice to me, and step forward and tell me your name and what you do here.

[ Daylen rarely uses the network.

In fact, the few times he does it's either in private messages or replies to other people. He can't shake the distrust of it, a distrust as much from inability to understand as general suspicion over how it works.

Still. Alistair uses it. Other people he likes and gives credit to use it. If it indeed works as it seems to, then it could be a useful tool.

More importantly, it could gather him the answers he seeks. Even the ones he might not wish to hear but has to. ]

A moment of your time, for those inclined to answer.

I have heard stories of those who vanish during jumps or before, mixed information.

I have heard that those who vanish completely -- their reference upon these things returns a different message which indicates this.

I have heard some vanish and return at a later 'jump', with different memories. Some remember this place, some do not. Some with different demeanour or events recalled to when they left. Some differently gendered, even.

I would like to hear from people who have experience with this, or anything to add. I wish to understand better. Thank you in advanced.

[ the feed opens on two pairs of feet; one large, one smaller. then jenna's voice comes through. ]

Tell you what. I'm going to leave you here, with this broadcasting-- [ the shot jerks a little, exposing an empty and spotless kitchen. ] and that way you can have something to talk to while I try and figure out where we are right now. I'll be back in a flash, you've seen how fast I can move now, and you know I'll hear you. Okay?

[ not waiting for an answer, jenna presses her comm into desmond’s hand and brings it up a little, so his chest is in frame, squeezing his shoulder with her other hand. ] I'll be right back, I promise.

Right. [Desmond sounds... Well shellshocked and crazy pretty much covers it. You can hear him swallow in that sort of pained, half-panting way, like he's out of breath and can't quite manage to calm himself down.] Assuming anyone's still out there, yeah? [He might be talking to Jenna, but she’s already gone. The comm shifts violently, flashing to Desmond’s face for only a half second (long enough to see he has both eyes and doesn't seem to be missing anything vital) and then to the ceiling and then back to the floor.] I don't understand what more it wants from me. Three bloody years of my life, pushing a damned button wasn't enough. I've been to the heart. I saw the light again. It was supposed to put me back. It was supposed to- [The camera swings by so fast you can easily tell that Desmond was gearing up to smash it against the nearest wall before-]

--whoa whoa, hey. Hey, it's okay. It's okay, I'm right here. Des? Desmond? [ she crouches down, taking the comm back into her own hands and setting it on the counter, where it films the tops of their heads for the moment. ] We're fine, look. We're even back in the main part of the ship, so that trek back is cancelled. I'm--

[ she pauses, hand reaching up into the picture again as she reaches for the comm, setting in on her upraised knees so it's more or less centered on the two of them, looking a whole lot worse for the wear. ]

If someone could prove big brother is always watching and figure out what floor we're on for me, that would be great. Who needs civil liberties, anyway? --don't get any extra ideas, Nathan. [ there's a tinge of forced, unnatural cheer to her tone, and her gaze darts over to desmond every few moments as if she needs to make sure he's there and fine. ] And maybe whoever pulls rescue duty, bring him something with a lot of sugar in it? That would be great.

[Desmond rubs his face, weary.] Someone tell Tyke I found what I was lookin' for, yeah? It's all true.

[ she inhales, about to add something else; then she shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tired line and jabs the off button. ]



( ooc | they're on floor thirty eight, where they were dumped after being rescued by ward from some Seriously Bad Metaplot Shit. colors for ease: jenna and desmond. )

[Jack tries not to poke his head in where it doesn't belong, and he tries to let his friends be their own people. But he hasn't seen Tosh since the jump, and since it's been a week now, he's assuming the worst. People have gone off wandering into the depths of the ship though, maybe she's headed that way? Point is, they haven't seen or heard from her in over a week and that's unnerving for him.]

Has anyone out there seen Tosh lately? Toshiko Sato? Gorgeous Asian girl, works in communications?

[He smiles to hide the fact that he's worried, though if you know him, you can definitely tell. Hell, even if you don't know him, you can probably tell as well.]