Someone has developed a rather inter▓▓ting taste in art of late. I find myself growing par▓▒al to them. So much more pleasant than the guts and severed parts ▒▒ people cobbled together that the dark̶̸͉̰̺̞̝̞̦̩̳̪̲̺͎̣̝͌ͦ͟͢͝ͅ▒▒░n seem to think passes as "art", in any ra░░.

( and just now catching on to the blips in her broadcast, sam's smile turns ironic. just as her image becomes slightly distorted by static. )

Intere▒▒ing, indeed. Tell me: is thi▐ ▓▓▓▓▓ usual occurrence? These malfu▒ctions. And the voices, am I the on▓▓ one who hears them, or is it just ▒▓ time come early?

A poll, then! All those who e▐ther see vi░░ons of this art in the▓r dreams or hear voices, say ▓▓ here. I'd like a full sense of the pic̶̸͉̰̺̞̝̞̦̩̳̪̲̺͎̣̝͌ͦ͟͢͝ͅ▒▒░.

( leaning forward, she taps her comm several times, and it seems to temporarily stabilise. )

Apologies for the gibberish.

Color me curious. Since we're such a diverse group of people - how many of you are from "Earth"? I don't care what version of it, I don't care what time you're from. Considering that we're all supposed to be from different galaxies and times, why is it your wonderful planet that gets picked on?

Not that I'm minding, there are so many people from my own galaxy that I'd hate to see again (though, if there's an old man called Ben Kenobi or Obi Wan still hiding out here, I still want my money), it's just odd that it's that galaxy that gets all the fun.

Or, you know, tell me where you're from. How are you? What's Earth like? Something - it's just bugging me.

Aye aye, ship. This is William from Medbay. [William from Medbay waves at the camera. From the view behind him, it's evident that he's reporting from his department; the backdrop is quiet, sterile, shows rows of cabinets and a generic holo model of a human body rotating dreamily in the background. He's holding a tablet, cuing himself from it.] A few things.

First, Engineering's representatives and our own tech expert, Natasi, are looking into the emergency lights. You know, the ones that was on when we came out of stasis to find our gravcouches defaced. All equipment is operating normally and conclusions are pending.

Second, said spraypaint has defied conventional analyses, where 'convention' includes imaging science and some magic. This phenomenon has previously been seen once before. If you've some sort of analytical magic, equipment, or otherwise salient skills, please inform myself and-or Xenobiology and Genetics immediately.

Third, we're seeking volunteers to undergo physical examinations. [He pauses for a split second, considering mentioning this is Erik Lehnsherr's idea, then opting not to.] These exams ain't invasive in nature. These will include: brain scans, running on a treadmill, and blood tests; we might also develop a magical battery. The purpose of this is to establish a baseline of healthy neurological and physiological activity. We will then compare it to how we're doing if shit happens later. Over the past few years, forces aboard this fucking ship have exhibited the power and intent to alter us. Some of these alterations have been obvious: evisceration by manticore, nanite plagues, [he loops his hand around a gesture that means et cetera et cetera.] Others have been much more etiologically uncertain. Psychic shit? Hallucinations? Who fucking knows. Understanding the physical and functional differences between us at different stages may be important to determining what the fuck is going on.

It's extremely unlikely any of the information we acquire can be used to harm you. Likewise the testing procedures themselves are low risk, if possibly bloody boring. If you prefer, we can lock the results to specific medical personnel.

Number four, several passengers have started crapping together some notes about the history of the ship based on archival research of the network. We're aware there been other archival projects, so moving or copying this shit around is good with me. As far as I'm concerned, it's imperative to perpetuate what records we've got. We've lose much of what we known, which is exceptionally shitty when we know sweet fuck-all. Contributions are also welcome.

Five, uhh. [Wiliam's face blanks an instant. His eyes cut to his tablet. Back again.] Medbay's still hiring. If you've got experience with medicine, healing, or salient arts, please apply because it's going to be like five fucking minutes before the next maiming.

Finally, it's my understanding that the last undesirable effects of the nanite plague two cycles ago have been corrected. If that ain't the case, please see Dr. Keller or Dr. Tam for surgical solutions. Ms. Weatherwax, Dr. Gallo, Ms. Amell, and Ms. Lúthien may have magical interventions available. We've also got a few away on recon, but we'll see to you if we can. Also, if that wee bint Cora tries to help you, you probably ought to tell her to get some fucking kip.

[He jostles the comm device as he reaches to end the transmission, saying,] Cheers.

[Attachment: ARCHIVAL-TIMELINE.8888]

---

Filtered to Xenogen and Cassandra Anderson

( re: spraypaint )

---

Filtered to Medbay

( By now, some of you will know that those of us who went on recon a few cycles ago have started experiencing etiologically mysterious symptoms. )

---

Locked to Heather Mason | 80% encryption or you're Seraphim Dias

( HEY )


OOC reminder: Medical Bay department page, if you haven't. Also in the case I do drop or am ICly merked/whatever, I will make the HTML code available to Medbay players.

Also OOC: Unless you want to RP out the physical examination (let me know), we can handwave it. Just have your character note volunteering/consent somewhere on this network!

[He's a reasonable distance away when the video starts. Ichabod learns and remembers, and he knows he doesn't need to have his face so close to be seen.]

Good afternoon, Tranquility -- if it is truly afternoon. [That part muttered, because seriously, how can you tell.] Allow me to introduce myself, or re-introduce myself as it were. My name is Ichabod Crane. I was once a passenger on board this ship in the stars. My voyage was rather short, and I'd hoped that it would be the same this time. But that's no excuse to remain idle for however long my forced conscription may last. I recall there being a Security militia on board. I'm stating my intentions to rejoin it.

Thank you and good day - night. Oh, whatever.

[He reaches to end the video before thinking of something else that's been on his mind. Something that is, in truth, never far from it.]

As for a more personal query, I also recall there being witches here before. I wish to know more, especially if you're familiar with the name Katrina. Any news would be...most welcome.

[His voice softens at those last two words, the understatement that they are. Ichabod's jaw clenches briefly.]

It is more the truth that I would be eternally grateful.

[rikku is lying in her bunk, the comm propped up on some scrap of metal beside her because she's too busy playing with her garment grid to hold it herself. she looks thoughtful, and gently runs the pads of her fingers over the spheres locked into the grid. the five of them, each a different color (lighter shades of red, blue, yellow, etc.), seem to glow with some sort of inner light. it's a very, very faint glow, but it's still there.]

How many of y'all have magic in your worlds? Like, not that hocus pocus "pick a card, let me saw you in half, i've got a dove up my butt" sort of magic. I'm pretty sure almost everywhere has that kind of magic. But I mean real, true magic.

[a beat]

Well I guess "real" is kinda relative, considering how many different kinds of magic there could be, but I think you get the gist. And if you've got magic--is it something everyone can do? Or do they need training or some kinda help to use it?

[ katniss has had a month of bored recovery after being seriously mutated by last month's illness. she's still embarrassed about the loss of most of her hair, and she isn't a big fan of texting, so this is voice, though she's just sitting on her bed, playing with the pearl she found in the pocket of her suit from home, rolling it between her fingers. it's late. she woke up screaming. she wonders if she should apologize to tyke, sometime, or if that's not something you bring up to your superior. ]

[ initially, she was going to ask someone to take the wedding dress out of her locker before the next jump, so she doesn't ever have to see it again, but instead all the frustration and restlessness and uselessness that's plagued her since her arrival on this ship coagulates into an angry ball. so when she presses play, she just asks one question, direct and simple and with a grit of fury to it that could be interpreted as either petulance or passion. ]

Why are we here?

[ because no matter what happens, no matter how many theories get floated, she still doesn't have an answer to that question. at least the Games had a clear end point, even if the goal was to kill every other person. ]

I'm aware that this is about to sound terribly dramatic, but. [ But she's paused a moment, debating cutting the feed entirely. She's been too reclusive, however, and this is as good a way as any to try and connect to her fellow passengers, isn't it? ]

I've spent my whole life in exodus. It's as if my life is split into chapters, and each one ends with having to flee the place I'd been calling home. Being stuck somewhere isn't something I'm accustomed to.

[ Which brings us to the point: ] How do you all stand it? I'm discovering that I'm terrible at keeping busy without wilderness to go tromping through, noble children to drag home, or a city guard to assist. Does anyone need anything fetched? I might actually be desperate enough to play messenger and courier for someone. I can only do target practice so much before even that gets dull.

[ There's a heavy sigh. Hawke doesn't like this one bit. ]

Which reminds me, I don't suppose there's anyone around here who knows how to make arrows?

( sam appears in general good-cheer, hazel eyes bright and warm while her smile in contrast in wry. she has wanted to avoid addressing anyone, or making herself beholden to anyone who might try to harness her abilities for their own cause, but after the plague?

her opinion has changed just a little. )

Well, that was a harrowing experience, wasn't it? ( oh, the irony of that word. ) Has everyone quite recovered?

I have been thinking. Since it seems that this is not the seaside city in Antiva I'd hoped to retire to, I suppose I should make myself useful around here.

I'm a mage trained in the healing arts, as well as combat. I am also well-versed in herbalism, thievery and other sundry tasks. I am willing to do anything to help except fight. I've been part of a military organization before and found it just not for me, alas.

What would you good people recommend I do?

( her smile fades and she turns serious. )

Also, I have a substance here which I would like to be examined by someone. Either Doctor Milagros or one of her associates are quite welcome to do so.

[Ianto could make a big announcement, Petrelli-style. He could talk about the last time people started getting sick (though he's fairly certain this isn't stasis sickness all over again), or how everyone should band together to help each other and keep an eye on each other. He could propose that people voluntarily go to the medbay to get their blood tested, or ask people to compare symptoms and severity.

As if anyone has the bloody energy for all that.]

Is there anyone who isn't sick?

[ katniss is restless with illness, crabby with it. she wants to do something to get her out of her head, but she's worked herself too much already today, knows she's reaching a point where pushing through will only make her worse, not better. so she rests in bed, and tries to find something to talk about. she's not very good at small talk, often only exchanges a couple of words and then considers the conversation over, but there's one thing she could listen to people talk about forever. ]

Would anyone like to tell me about their favourite foods?

[ voice, because she still finds texting too fiddly. after a pause, she adds an addendum: ]

Be as detailed as you'd like.