[ 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.

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.

Been here almost three months now, and I keep coming back to the same conclusion. Almost none you get it. And by almost, I don't mean some, I mean one, and maybe that's even pushing it.

[ As much as he considered taking the opportunity to full on shout at his comm device in video, Peter still can't find it within himself to splash his face on the network. Especially not right now, when he's busy splitting from any idea of reality. It doesn't really help matters that he's aware this he's bound to be in disagreement with... oh, maybe everyone? You don't exactly get to tell people they don't exist and expect them to like you.

Now, it's time for a reality check. For everyone else, mind, not him. ]

This isn't real. It's never going to be real. I don't even know how many of you are real, but nobody really likes hearing that they might not exist so we'll just stick with the basics.

[ Does it sound like he's being condescending? That's because he is. And he doesn't actually care all that much anymore about potentially hurting someone's feelings. ]

I don't care if you've got reasons, I don't care if you've got explanations. Everyone comes up with some way to convince themselves that what they're stuck in is actually reality. Give someone too much time and something they can't pick apart and eventually they'll tell themselves whatever they have to, just to make it all make sense.

But it doesn't. It's not going to.

And before you even ask, no, I don't think it's a nightmare or a dream. Or even a hallucination. So no, I don't need to get shipped off to the psych department to get my head fixed. [ He's particularly growly about that one. ] It's a construct. It's supposed to look real, and unless you've been in one, I wouldn't expect you to know the difference. Looks real, feels real, it's supposed to make you think it's real.

And fuck, if this one's working just a little too damn well.

You won't believe me, i've already got that down. Nathan's got some of you wrapped around his finger, I already know that much, and I already know what he thinks about all this. But I know a different Nathan, and I know one that'd do things to your brain that you wouldn't believe. Doesn't get any better after that. You don't get fixed.

You get his public service announcements and now you're getting mine.

I don't think this bullshit is real, and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.

[ There is a naked, brightly glowing blue man standing a short distance away from where his comm device is holding steady in the air. He’s hardly bothered by the fact that he’s naked... nor does he look as if he’s bothered by, well, much of anything. ]

It has become clear to me that, while I am entirely capable of moving my own matter both through time and space, I have been moved into a plane that has hindered this ability. I have found that i’m unable to manipulate my own particles to the extent that I have become accustomed to. It seems that this is not true in all instances, however. [ His tone indicates a shrug might go here, but he doesn’t move an inch. ] I was not able to foresee this event, likely a cause of whatever is altering my intrinsic field.

[ Jon almost sighs, almost looks dejected, but mostly looks nothing too terribly different. ]

While I am aware that this is possible, I have yet to understand exactly how it’s occurring. Once I have, however, I intend to stop it. I have begun research in the science department for this reason only. [ Still as blase as ever. ]

I am curious, however, as to how this plane affects the atoms of others. It can only serve to further advance my own research if I understand how other particles have proven to react in such a place. [ He tips his head slightly, curiously, and then proceeds to wait for his answers. ]

[ faith is smoking slowly when she turns on the feed, clearly lingering over the last of her stash in a way she really should have implemented sooner.

she has a veritable arsenal out and unloaded, covering a lot of the bits of her room that can be seen-- weapons cleaning is a totally sane hobby, why is everyone nervous when they try and sit down in here-- and she has a gun clearly unloaded and half taken apart in her hands, gleaming already but apparently not good enough.

her mask is chilling out in the back of her closet, but that's nobody's business but her own. ]

So, here's my thing. And I'm not talking for SEC here, so don't give me shit duty again, all right boss? Just thinking out loud is all.

[ she loves you, tyke. ]

So, what. We got-- hell and darkness out there? Yeah, and? I've done hell and darkness, it's pretty freaking routine for me.

Why are we letting jackasses like Caffrey and Stark head out alone and come back all fucked up and useless?

[ wait for it. ]

No offense, or anything.

Look-- back home, this is where we start talking about mounting up and heading out to take a little tour ourselves, is all I'm saying.

[ pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease oh please won't someone give her permission to troll the creepy space doom, oh oh oh pick her! ]

[ despite the warnings to not wear the masks, ariadne couldn't resist temptation and now here she was, sitting alone in a random hallway of the ship - wearing her mask (she’s been doing it for some time now - wearing it here and there - always in private) and poking the network via anonymous text.

this should be fun. ]

How do some of you manage to go on day to day, pretending as if nothing is wrong - that you aren't lying to others or that you didn't do horrible things back home?

How do you live with your guilt?

[ yep, a vague text from a girl that is obviously going through a bit of an identity crisis at the moment and just wants to understand what she is doing wrong. someone help her. ]


[ ooc: so yeah, obviously ariadne is wearing her mask in some random hallway (lets say not far from the oxygen gardens) so feel free to action this post up and spot her wearing her nifty mask or just keep poking her via text. she also sort of fails at anon (though she doesn't think so) so folks that have talked to her long enough should be able to pick up that it is her talking here. ]

[the feed opens to a shot of david sat at the table in his assigned room; grey standard uniform in place, despite the black jumpsuit he was given upon arrival. having that one strain of familiarity on his person...helps. not that he'll ever admit to that. perfect posture and not a hair out of place; there's something a little off about the picture, but unless you were here for those old transmissions, it shouldn't be obvious as to what that is. he's made to appear completely human afterall.]

A question for each of you. Who do you consider the biggest threat to your safety here? The figure who goes by a red, smiling emoticon? Our Captain and Chief Engineer? Or perhaps it's one of us; one of those who have been brought here against our will?

Considering that it was those amongst our number who attempted to commit mutiny, released a fear toxin, and unleashed a series of windows to parallel worlds, is it the ship we should fear, or those aboard it?

Curious minds wish to know.

[and then he'll just be. switching the feed over to a locked one now.]


[locked to OPERATIONS and SCIENCE departments]

I hope this isn't too forward of me. [not that he particularly cares if it is] But my name is David, and prior to my arrival here, I performed the role of Mission Attendant aboard the USCSS Prometheus. Whilst the details of our mission must remain classified, I can assure you that I have a great deal of experience with the operation and maintenance of an FTL space exploration vehicle, hypersleep stasis, and earth sciences including medicine.

As such, I wish to offer my services to both of your departments, dependant on which areas you believe I can benefit the most.

Thank you for your time.

[This will be a new voice to most of you: cultured almost to the point of absurdity, like a Shakespearean actor trying to prove he's not drunk, but currently very genial.] People of the Tranquility, good day.

I see there has been some discussion about what to do with these "mask" objects that have been gifted to, or forced upon us.

[The Master took one look at his own hanging on his door, and immediately put a handkerchief over it, before hacking together a very strong perception filter. It is now in a box, under the same perception filter, in an egg, in a duck, in an iron chest, in his closet. It's not that he was shocked by it: he has a very clear sense of who and what he is, and is proud of what others might consider his bad qualities. But it wouldn't do to give warning to everyone who happens to pass his door.]

If you wish to keep yours you are of course welcome to do so. But in lieu of or perhaps before seeking to destroy a mask, I'd be pleased if you'd consider allowing me to examine it. I have conducted several tests on my own mask in an attempt to determine its exact composition and nature, and I would welcome more sources of data.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

( Meanwhile, the Doctor gets pinged with an image file, in familiar Gallifreyan handwriting. )

[Cameron has her mask in hand, turned to face the camera.] I haven't tried mine on yet. Masks usually serve a ritualistic or celebratory purpose. I don't believe in rituals, and I don't have anything to celebrate.

Does anyone want to use it?

[The camera clicks on. Sma is sitting in her quarters, smiling. She's had some time to get her feet under her and now feels up to introducing herself.]

Hello, Tranquility. [Still amused by the stodginess of the ship name.] It seems like the thing to do is introduce oneself, so—my name's Diziet Sma. A very nice ship you have here, I must say.

I'm something of a veteran of space travel, although my usual bailiwick is diplomacy and arts patronage—and I doubt there's much call for that here. But if there's anything I can do to make myself useful, I'd be glad to help.

[A pause, and then she seems to come to a sort of decision.]

And if there is anyone here who knows what I mean when I refer to the civilisation known as the Culture, I'd like to meet you.

[Because even if it's an enemy, she'd like to know about it. And on the off-chance that another Culture citizen is here, bonus.]