For anyone who might care one way or another, Crowley's gone. Your bra straps are safe, or whatever.

[ From the tone of her voice, it sounds like she expects most people to be pleased about this and that she's not exactly pleased about it herself. ]

I'm not going to be giving advice in his place, so sorry to anyone who might have been lo- fuck!

[ There's a loud noise, the sound of Jaye hitting the ground with a rather unceremonious "THUD". ]

What the fuck did I just--

[ And then the feed cuts. ]

((ooc: Don't worry, she just tripped over the hellhound Crowley left behind. She'll still be replying!))

[ In response to this post.

When the picture comes on what you find is a beautiful woman with heart-shaped face and a head of curly red hair, half-done up like she's someone important (she isn't). When she talks, there's a lazy drawling quality to her voice, as well as an air of condescension and carelessness. It's hard to tell just how much she really means the things she says, whether she's actually frustrated or not. But the fact that Ros — who's never posted on the Network before — has finally bothered to speak up must be an indication of something. (Right?)

She sits with an elbow propped up onto a table, her chin settled into the seat of its palm. Despite the nature of her message, she smiles frivolously. As if she hadn't a care in the world. ]

S'not my business — all those secrets of yours you lot are hiding in plain sight. Leave cleverness to the clever ones, I say. [ Her smile widens as if to add I'm not clever at all, I'm just a whore, but that's window dressing really. Distraction and deflection. If she wasn't clever, Ros wouldn't have all her teeth, wouldn't work for Littlefinger. She'd be bottom of the barrel and Ros has managed just fine, thank you. ] But if you're going on and on 'bout how we're all meant to save our skins and the means to do it, here's a friendly bit'f advice:

Not all of us can read, dears.

Now you learned lot might come from places full'f words and numbers. Where babes come tumbling out their mothers smart as maesters 'prentices, too busy with reading to even stop for a suckle. But some of us don't. Some of us had t'work for a living. The dirty kind'f work that gets your hands messy. [ That turn of phrase seems to amuse her. She thinks of farmhands in the fields, of smiths at their forges. (Yes, terribly messy.) She thinks about how she's fucked them all — and lords too. (Yes, Ros can be clever sometimes.) ] The sweaty kind'f work.

And we dirty, sweaty, dumb lot — we want to live, same as you.

So if all your whispering's a bit of nothing — then carry on, good as you like. But if it's a bit of something, well— [ She tips her head and, for the first time in the feed, looks expectant rather than bored. ] —give us a listen, mm?

hello

Okay, it's working. Great. ☺I know I got crazy timing since I've been here for a while. Been through this and that, but not really one to socialize. I'm still queasy about adjusting. I feel very out of place.

I'll get to the point. Sorry to take up your time, but I was curious if anyone has any stories to share? Like tales from home, even fairytales? Yeah, barmy, right? I would find it nice just to listen. Storytelling was one of my jobs back home (gig with kids, shush, it paid the bills!), so you could say it would be a good deal of comfort for something... familiar.

Cheers.

-Richard.

(ooc: LOL GIMME A HEADS UP IF YOU ARE GOING TO BE ALL LIKE "I KNOW YOUUOUOUOU.")

Dr. McCoy here, and this is a general announcement about something I think everybody on this ship could stand to hear about. So if you don't mind, I won't take more'n a minute of your time.

I know you're all gonna say you're adults and don't need any lectures 'bout the birds and the bees. But I also know that most of you are inherently reckless and tend to think you can beat anything that tries to pull you down through sheer stubbornness. I got no illusions that recent events will have hammered any common sense into places it never resided in the first place. And it's a fool's errand to think for one minute any of you are gonna abstain from sex just because there are risks. So let's address how you can avoid those risks, and we here in Medical can avoid wasting our time doling out STD treatments.

First things first: birth control, condoms, basic supplies for intercourse. Yes, we have 'em, and yes you can get 'em from us. All you gotta do is ask. See? Easy.

Second: sexually transmitted diseases. I can guarantee not a single person on this ship can name every STD lyin' in wait out there. We're from different places, different times, different species. A minor rash for one person could be deadly for another, so takin' a few minutes to get informed and take the right precautions just might be the difference between a decent sexual experience and a ship-wide outbreak of Andorian shingles. So I'm uploading some pamphlets, and I expect you to all take the time to read 'em.

Third: testing for sexually transmitted diseases. If you've been havin' sex since you came aboard and you haven't been tested, get down here and get tested.

[ This portion of the transmission ends with an uplink to a number of STD pamphlets, courtesy of Starfleet Medical. Imagine something like this CDC site, but with a lot of alien diseases added.

The second portion of the transmission is flagged to the Medical Staff AND those characters who volunteered in Medbay during the stasis sickness outbreak. ]

Okay, with that out of the way -- at the moment we have exactly zero patients checked into Medbay. Which in my mind makes this as good a time as any for a good old-fashioned We Ain't Dead Yet celebration. If you're on staff or you volunteered during this last crisis, you're invited. Feel free to bring a guest if you want, but keep in mind it's BYOB and I'll sedate anybody who gets out of hand.


[OOC: Yes, it has been confirmed that Medbay has birth control, condoms, lube, feminine hygiene products, etc. As far as the Medbay party, if your character is officially on the Medical Staff or you ICly OR OOCly arranged for them to be volunteering during the recent modplot, consider yourself invited. Plus-ones are also welcome. There will be a log shortly, which I will link here. Log posted here.]

[The feed opens and Mary is smiling pleasantly into the camera. She's much more versed in the communicator than when she made her first network post.]

Hello Everyone. Mary here. I know anyone who was sick has recovered or is well on the way but if anyone needs anything- anything at all- I'd be happy to help you.

[She tucks a piece of her hair back behind her ear.] I thought I might as well check in with those who know me. So please, let me know that you're alright.

[She smiles again, having said all she wanted to. She looks as if she's about to cut the feed when an idea occurs to her then she adds one more thing as an afterthought.]

Oh. And I was just wondering, who else didn't get sick? I know there were some of us out there- and I don't know about you- but I'd like to know why.

[She gives a little nod and cuts the feed.]

I do apologize for having you sit on your hands for so long. What you must think of me...

I think I'm about ready to put you to some work, though, if you're up for a bit of a challenge.

So, we all know that there's something fishy going on here by now.

But I think -- and don't shoot the skeptic here, because it seems we can't afford to have any men down -- that if there is going to be a threat, we want everyone to be capable of keeping in touch.

No man left behind, as it were.

To that end, if there are any people experiencing difficulties using their communicators, I'd be happy to help.

[A team is only as strong as its weakest member, right? You never knew when even someone who'd previously seemed useless would come through at an unexpected moment.

She brings the video a little closer to her face.]

I don't bite, I promise. So, any takers?

[Sooner was better than later.]

Given the nature of this place, I would like to speak with any medical personnel on this ship. I have been here since the last jump and would prefer to keep myself busy. I am a doctor, though if you'd like to know more about my credentials, you'll have to speak with Topher Brink. [If he's here, she might as well make this awkward. Considering whatever memories she has about graduating medschool aren't actually real.]

I have experience in surgery as well as general practitioner.

Thank you.

[ No video this time, because Erik is paranoid as fuck in the aftermath of pretty much everything. And hearing from the smiley face thing Stark pointed out initially does nothing to cure that paranoia. It takes him a while to put together the list, but it's the poem itself, that Erik recognized as familiar. Being from the sixties means he doesn't quite manage off to solve the technology aspect just yet, but he'll get there in due time. ]

Cliched poetry, [ He says, sarcastically as possible. ] like our stay here wasn't any more pleasant than it was initially.

No doubt our friends are hinting at a means of cooperation amongst us. Its implication is not one I'm fond of.

( text: private/filtered to mutants/allies )


[ ooc: ICly shortly before Neal's post because I'm slow. Also filter is open to basically anyone with positive/decent experiences with Erik; if you've talked to him, you're on it. ]

It's been a rather interesting time on the ark, hasn't it?

People getting circulated through the halls like mice enduring the wheel, hostile take-overs by blue bobble-headed bastards, and now demons. My my. What will they think of next?

No, really, what is our host with the most up to?

I'm sure our fearless leaders are scratching their brains trying to come up with a solution for this conundrum, and our techdarlings are digging away day and night. Some have even offered souls up to the so-called angel in hopes of getting some illusion of security; I really do hope those investors are enjoying their purchase of contentment until the next jump.

Before anyone asks, though: no, this is not another cry for answers or an offer for a solution. I'm not much of one for repetition.

Actually, I'm taking bets for after the jump. Anyone interested? Currency here comes in many forms, so let's not dig to deep in our pockets to consider if that ball of lint was once something like a coin. Those toffees you've been pinching from the kitchen will do. Maybe.

( Private 100% to Yoite )

To those of you who require further information or supplies, come to... What did you call it again? [There's some muttering off-feed.] Holodeck 1? At midday.

This is also a request for those with an affinity for languages to step forward. Particularly if you are familiar with Latin. There is a way to force demons from their hosts, but it requires an exorcism chant that needs to be recited word for word.

[And then he's on to the part of this message that he's less comfortable with. It also happens to be something he didn't tell Dean about in advance, which is why it only gets added once he's stepped out of the room.]

I...also need a volunteer for something potentially dangerous. Preferably human, and your soul needs to be your own.

...that's everything.

[No, wait. There's still one last thing. A warning, to an extent.]

Crowley. I suggest you speak with your "friends" before it's too late.


ooc; threads locked to individuals re: soul stuff

[ Though he's been here for almost a month, Erik deliberately hasn't made a public comment, preferring to speak to almost everyone else first and foremost in order to assess the situation ahead of himself, and most importantly, come to terms with the fact that this is not Earth. He'd been mulling over what Kirk had said, as one of the earlier people he had spoken to, particularly the statement that things were different than what he was accustomed to. It's a considerable break from reality, because where Erik last stood was watching the world fall apart as he and several others had essentially outed themselves to the public, and earned a response he had correctly predicted. At least here, several years in the future if what he had learned was anything to go by, there was the possibility that Charles had proven him wrong; an admission he wasn't inclined to concede so early on.

Answers however, were slowly provided, and Erik was forced into a position where he had little choice but to re-evaluate a stance he had sworn by for several years. It was a defeat that had put him at odds with himself, having been forced to interact with not just non-humans like himself, but also humans. They were mere temporary allies, associates at best, until Erik had derived what he needed, piecing together a shaky network that merely served to relay information back and forth for his own means. To either deny the seeming equality that appeared on board, or to deliberately instigate what wasn't there and accept that there would be a conflict. ]

For those of you whom I haven't spoken to, my name is Magneto. [ His voice comes slightly off camera, as all that's deliberately being shown is the side of his jaw, the device loosely held in his palm while Erik processes his next move, tone clipped and to the point. ] It's fruitless at this point to deny one of the differences between many aboard the Tranquility; that there are both humans and non-humans here.

As one of the latter, [ Hope you're hearing that Raven, because Erik just outed himself. ] I intend on making it clear that while we're held captive together, I will not tolerate any exercise of dominance over non-humans. [ Admitting this on Erik's part is a cost because it conflicts with his own stance on how he sees society, one he's finally conceded will not change despite convincing; Charles couldn't do it, the others won't either. ]

That being said, [ Erik lets the device leave the comfort of his hand with only the slightest curl of a finger, raising it until its level directly with his face; just the barest hint of confirmation he needs. Lips curling into a smile, it's evident Erik can do more than just that, but he doesn't intend on letting it all come out immediately ] I'm inclined to put forth what effort it takes to ensure that all of us get out. [ A concession Erik has to make, that some sacrifices are necessary for the greater good, because while mutant superiority is likely to prevail, it takes a back seat to the situation at hand. ]

How many of you are willing to do the same? [ With that, he shuts off the feed, frowning slightly. ]

Private | Spock [40%]:

If you have time, I would like to speak to you in person. [ Vague enough, because Erik's ability to encrypt is absolutely terrible and he doesn't trust it to actually succeed. ]

[ the feed begins in audio, and on the opposite end of the communicator, hayley chews on her bottom lip. the pause only lengthens after she clears her throat, and discovers that she's managed to find the video function. the lens remains pointed at her knee for one beat, then another- before the image is righted, and she turns an apologetic smile to the feed. ]

Sorry. I'm not really used to the. You know, [ cue the demonstrative finger wiggles ] future stuff yet.

[ a small crease appears in her brow, but softens as soon as the communicator is set on the table, so she can settle down to look into the feed directly. her shoulders hunch, and she plays with her fingers anxiously as she begins again. ]

Anyway um, so I know I should be really freaked out about the dimension hopping spaceship thing, and the mutiny thing, and I will be. Once it like, processes. And I don't mean to sound super insensitive or anything? But um, I don't suppose anybody's managed to find like, some books or anything just hanging around, have they?

I'm pretty desperate for anything at this point, especially since it's only a matter of time before we get back into the jell-o baths, you know? And I know that all you super cool space heroes are like, up to your eyeballs in shenanigans, but there's just not a whole lot of stuff for- kids around here.

The whole, no tv, no internet, no ipods thing is kindof like, [ a sheepish laugh ] hell on earth for a teenager. Or. Not earth. Since we're in. Space now.

[ ariadne had been mulling over what she was planning on saying for a bit now, so the moment the feed clicks in, she is looking squarely into it, her expression clearly is anything but happy - she looks outright annoyed to be honest.

a small sigh, a she is speaking into the device then. ] Look. If we don’t start making lists soon, we’re never going to be able to keep an eye out for each other. [ adding almost frustrated. ] We are in no way as organized as we should be.

[ yes she knows they are trying – or at least a handful are. but this is getting to be ridiculous to her. and she would rather prevent things like what just happened from happening again. ]

Is anyone willing to take on a few of these lists? [ her tone almost appears to be hopeful then, as she is adding: ] Maybe a list could have some of the skill sets we as passengers possess? [ she knows you all have them, it is just a matter of finding out what they are. and if you're going to share with the class of course.

again she is letting a small sigh escape her, as she quickly makes a small face at her thoughts. knowing she just needs to move onto her next topic before she loses them. ] I'm also looking to talk with the victims from the previous attack. [ a beat and she is then reassuring ] I'm not about to cause any issues for anyone involved. But I would just like to hear your thoughts on it.

So if you wouldn't mind getting in contact with me, I'd appreciate that a lot.



( locked to OPR >> 001 >> 099 | encrypted 85% )

Now that it seems things have died down - for the most part - I need to request some assistance. I have two unconscious teammates that need medical attention as soon as possible...and I'm not really in the position to carry them to the Medical Bay.

[Nor is she in any condition to, not to mention she has blood on her from poor Yoite.]

And yes, this is an emergency. We're about twenty minutes walking distance from the passenger's quarters, in one of the halls. Just follow the broken robot pieces.

[the image clicks on to a blonde kid who somehow manages to look like he just stepped out of the 90s despite the regulation jump suit. he's got his feet kicked up on something and he's looking at the communicator like he's watching TV]

So I get that this is probably part of the suspense and everything, but come on. The Birds had a better set up than this, and it wasn't even scary.

Is anyone gonna share what's behind door number one? Or is this, like, you guys are all dead so we need to find an abandoned assault rifle and come down there ourselves?