Tranquility - the last transmission on the network was not a hoax. We have been boarded.

All non-combat personnel should keep to their quarters at the present moment. Further instructions will follow.

Note please that the boarders are able to hack all transmissions, including those which are highly encrypted. Do not discuss tactical information over the network. Do not discuss extraneous things. We do not know what will be of use to these brigands, and we need to deny them as much information as possible. Keep silent; keep vigilant; updates to come.

[ she did not often use this device. it is distasteful still, no matter how long she's been here now. no matter how long she will be here.

but she is aware that certain things needed to be said. there's a tremor to her hands that no one will be able to see, but she feels and it's enough to unnerve and unsettle.

aithusa was here. she was here. her ally, her friend. and it brought excitement. and pain.

the feed pans to the gardens, before stopping on morgana. her hair is in disarray as usual, black dress and pale skin. but normally tired eyes have a sharpness to them again, and fix the device with a hard stare. ] This place does little to cease its torments, it has no right -

[ there's a rumble, throaty and slight, beside her, off screen. she glances briefly down. she was glad to see the creature, but she was just as equally angry. this ship had no right. if she was subjected to its whims, it did not mean this poor, deformed dragon had to be, as well. she straightens though, composure unwavering whilst on display. ]

I will say this once. In the Gardens, there is a dragon. She is my ally - [ there's an emphasis to the word. ] - And is not to be touched. Not to be harmed.

You will not want to know what will follow if my words are not listened to. [ it's a threat, and she doesn't care how subtle - or otherwise - it sounds. in her world, where she should still be, morgana would have thought hard before announcing such. but here…well, the gardens were only so big. sooner or later aithusa would be noticed.

best all who listen be aware of it now. ] I trust I am understood.

[ authority, unquestionable and final, and the feed ends. ]

[ action; if anyone would like, she is in the gardens, found with this dragon. ]

[ robb and bran both are onscreen for this, grey wind at robb’s side, summer curled at bran’s. this is meant to be something official, and so robb’s drawn up straight, even though his fingers are carding idly into grey wind’s fur. he clears his throat before he speaks, darting a glance at bran then back to the lens. ]

Though my brothers and I have dwelled aboard this ship for quite some time, it was brought to my attention that there are many aboard who have questions about our direwolves, and we’ve been remiss in not answering them more fully. That is why Bran and I have come before you, to speak of our direwolves and assuage any fears passengers new and old may have of them.

[ grey wind gives a short huff, shifting as if to move away and robb pauses, fingers twisting in fur until grey wind stills beneath his hand. bran has been sitting more still through robb’s speech, watching his brother, but as robb falls quiet, he takes up the task of speaking.]

Our direwolves are not pets, but they are of House Stark and they are ours. They mind us, and they will not harm anyone--so long as we are not under threat. They have never attacked anyone aboard this ship, and they never will, unless there is some danger. They are not tame, but they are not wild and savage, either. And they will not hunt any animal aboard this ship, so those who keep pets need not worry. [and here summer flicks an ear, as if he might take argument with that statement, should tempting prey make itself known--but he settles his great head on his paws once more, as bran scratches behind his ear.]

There’s no need to fear them, nor a need to hunt them. The only times they have bared their teeth against anyone was in service of our House, and protection of our family. If you mean them no harm, then you need never worry about their presence, no matter how large and savage they may appear. [ none so large and savage as ghost, but perhaps that’s best not to bring up. ] If you see them in the halls unaccompanied by one of us, continue about your business. They’ll not bother you. [ grey wind’s lip curls back from his teeth and robb makes a hushing noise, expression stern, before he looks at bran. ] Have you anything else we should say?

[bran has tried to look more a lord than a child this whole time, but as he bites at his lip and thinks, he looks slightly more his age. summer rolls his eyes up to consider him, and robb, and grey wind, but does not raise his head.] Only-- that they are safe. And if anyone is uncertain of them, I would gladly let them meet Summer, so they could see for themselves.

Aye, and Grey Wind too. [ robb says to bran, before addressing the lens next. ] If anyone has doubts, you’re welcome to come to any of our House and see for yourself. We would happily accommodate you.

[ it's obvious this is going to be a serious post just from the look on robb's face. this is the king in the north, drawn up ice cold and stone-faced on the screen and there's nothing of the boy in his face. the direwolf at his side is a hulking mass of fur, teeth bared and eyes gleaming and no, this is not meant to be a light-hearted post. ]

Upon this ship there is a woman called Cersei Lannister, who arrived most recently. In Westeros, she dealt my house a great and terrible injury, and the matter must be settled, for it cannot be ignored. If she hears this, then I call her to treat with me, and submit herself for judgement for her crimes.

[ and grey wind snarls, ears set back and hackles raised, just as robb cuts the feed. ]

[The video turns on first -- a closeup of a handsome young man’s face. A blue eye flashes in the screen for a moment, then the camera is turned over in his hands, buttons are pressed -- and it switches to voice. There is silence for a moment, save for the fumbling of Renly’s hands and some quiet breaths, and then -- a soft ‘Aah.’ The strange device is blinking at him, apparently he is meant to communicate. Sadly, his voice does not sound quite as authoritative as he wishes it to, mostly due to confusion.]

This is King Renly Baratheon, lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Speak, whoever listens, and tell me how I may return home. I have pressing business to attend to and a war to win.

[He falls silent once again, frowning, and pokes at the comm, some of the arrogance in his tone fading to honest curiosity and confusion.] If there is anyone listening, that is. This device is quite strange.

[ Hello, have your new 010 » 111 pop up on the network. The video turns on to show someone obviously in their room. He's sitting on the bed and he has the comm resting in his hands on his lap, it's facing him -- even if it's a little off center. His fingers run over the buttons on the device and he clears his throat, ready to speak at the indication that the video is recording.

And yet, the video is upside down. ]

Just a friendly reminder to whoever is in charge that, if you are in fact going to abduct someone from their work and home into outer space -- you might want to reconsider picking a blind man. For one, stars? Completely wasted on me.

[ A slight quirk of his lips up at that. ]

And to... any friendly listeners out there, a brief rundown of this place from someone who isn't a native would be exceptional. I'm sure there's a welcome sign around here but, well, [ He tilts his head just a bit and shrugs lightly. ]

I think that covers it. Nice to meet you, I'm sure you're all very pretty.

[ And then he grins and hangs up. ]

Tranquility.

[ It's with a warm sort of politesse that Petyr addresses the network this time around, a crimson sash draped over one of his shoulders and a new set of robes upon his frame. Visible next to him, at the fringe of the image, is a girl with chestnut brown hair and her hands folded in her lap, who should prove familiar to at least some upon the ship. ]

I inquired some months ago as to the existence of a physical library, and was informed that the ship lacked such a facility. As such, I have taken it upon myself to begin one for the sake of those who would prefer the feel of a solid page than the, ah. Furnishings that the ship provides. My collection is meager, but it is more than what was available upon my arrival. Should you care to take advantage of it, I can be found upon the fifth level, next to the quarters that Alayne Stone — [ at the mention, the girl sitting next to him smiles prettily and offers up a wave ] — keeps as a seamstress. She has offered her help in my endeavor, to care for the books in my absence.

That said, should you be willing to part with them, we would greatly appreciate any spare books that you might have. This service is without charge, and meant simply for the comfort of those upon the ship.

I have taken the liberty of attaching the list of the books collected so far, and hope that some of you, at least, will find some use in it.

[ And, with a duck of his head, the feed cuts out. ]

ATTACHMENT.


ooc: feel free to talk to petyr or alayne or both!

[It takes him a minute to figure out this comm device business because seriously screw you, smartphone-like thing, but once he does, he finds himself looking directly at its camera. Having spent several long minutes investigating and monitoring the communications going on, it seems like a good time to cut to the chase. He pauses, removing his red-lensed glasses and setting them aside before speaking.]

If this is an alien abduction, I can cope with that, been there. But does somebody want to tell me--[he turns the view to his arm, the tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve]--what this is?

For all the talk of help and friendship that trust is easily broken.

[ That young, sweet white haired girl that you've seen before? Today her sweetness is gone, her manner harder - angrier and her words commanding. Like a Queen, except right now that isn't her business ]

I would ask- [ No. A Queen does not ask, not when she has been wronged ] You will tell me where you have taken them.

[ Her children - her dragons. Daenerys doesn't know that they're not here, that they're still as eggs (she was updating in the jump, but her dragons haven't been updated with her) ]

If they have been harmed- [ She doesn't have a threat to follow up to that. No one with her, and she can do little herself ] your actions will be answerable. I am the Khaleesi, and I shall take my rights with blood.

[As the camera clicks on, those who know Remus will notice how tired he looks. Not simply as if he hasn't gotten a night's sleep, but truly exhausted-- as if he's been on a long journey, or suffered some great hardship. The circles beneath his eyes are too dark, and there's a long pink scar forming on his right cheek.

Still, he gives the camera a smile, albeit a tired and nervous one.]

Ah-- hello. I do hope this is working properly; I haven't precisely had much practice with cameras. But-- yes. My name is Remus Lupin, and, as most of you know, I've been technically on-board the Tranquility for some months now. However, I've no memory of this-- really, it's as if this is my first month. So please, if I knew you but you haven't heard from me in a while, it's nothing to do with you, I assure you.

[The smile fades now.]

Which brings me to my second point. I've, ah, heard it said that I was rather free with this information, so I suppose it's no longer a secret. But--

[He glances behind him uncertainly, as if seeking support from someone unseen, and then nods.]

Well. I'm a werewolf. No jokes, please, I assure you I've heard them all. And-- well, we're taking every safety precaution we know, Sirius and I, but-- just so you know. I'll post up what days I'm dangerous, simply so no one stops by my room while I'm changed.

[He gives them a thin smile.]

And finally: a simple question. How many people, precisely, have duplicates or twins aboard the ship? Not biologically, I mean, but-- people who look like that, for no discernible reason at all.

[ the screen opens up with quiet, sad singing in the background; low, voiceless, and wordless, like church chords to a child's ears. but far from happy. some might recognize it as legolas' voice.

in the center of the screen is frodo, sitting with worn, sad eyes at his feet. around his neck is something not there before, two chains now. one of them is the evenstar, and seems to glow with a faint light.

behind him is a glimpse of gold and muted green, but the elf doesn't say much, not even when frodo speaks up. quietly, over the soft singing, voice heavy. ]
To those that knew them--..Ara--Strider, a great healer on this ship and one of our company has left. Along with him, the Lady Arwen Evenstar.

If I were to know anything of those dear friends, it would be that they would not have you mourn them, for they are bound to home and lands that need their strength.

[ he looks down, staring at the pendant around his neck, smiling faintly, his voice very soft. ]
As they have helped restore mine. I do not know what roads are left to either of us, but I will hope to see them again, when our journeys are done.

[he glances over his shoulder]

Legolas, do you have anything to say?

[legolas does not, in fact, have anything to say. all he does is scoot over and not-so-creepily loom over the frodo's shoulder to peer at the device.... and reach over to shut it off. rood elfs.]

[ooc: frodo and legolas will both be respondin' if you had cr with aragorn or anything like that or idk comment on his lovely singin. ]

[ Today the Khaleesi looks troubled. Not worried, but troubled. There are many that have arrived, and many that have left. This strange 'magic' that does this has great power, and it leaves her confused, and afraid.

It isn't her worries that cause her to speak though, rather the arrivals instead. She has no question, nor a need for asking, but more a simple wish of conversation (and a wish to know whom is like her) ]

There are many that have arrived, many from my own world as well as others, but they may as well all be foreign. Though they are from my world I know not one. [ The surname of Stark or Lannister not included ] I would not wish for any to arrive, to be here. [ Even if it would be nice, to see Ser Jorah or one of her handmaidens (she would say Drogo too, but he is gone) ]

Would you wish for another? For a friend? [ Or even a foe, just someone familiar ] Or would you wish to remain alone?

It seems there are many from my world to be welcomed aboard after this past jump. If those of Westeros inclined to make their presence known, I would speak with all of you.

[ there's a pause. a direwolf's low whine can be heard, and robb exhales slowly. ]

And I'm sure it is already known, but the lady who called herself Aberdeen is no longer aboard.

[ and feed is cut. ]

[ The video feed flashes on with a start, upside-down, to reveal a young redheaded woman—barely past her teens and dressed in animal skin and fur-lined clothing, no less—examining the network device closely and pushing random buttons and turning it this way and that, pink tongue catching between white and slightly crooked teeth in earnest concentration. Eventually she huffs in exasperation. ]

...Shit. Jon Snow told me he'd teach me how t' work this thing, but it's...augh!

[ She tosses it down on the floor irritably, and it just so happens to land right-side-up, and continues to record as she moves to the center of the room, where she's piled some pieces of wood and paper scraps. She sits cross-legged on the floor before the small pile and begins to rub two small pieces of wood together furiously, one piece shaped like a bow and another like a small plank, her shoulders hunched and red head bowed in concentration.

Finally, there is a tiny puff of smoke—and she yelps victoriously. She tips the small wooden plank and blows air onto it, fanning it. The small puff of smoke blossoms into a tiny flame...which gets bigger as she adds it to the makeshift pile of kindling on the floor, glowing brighter and hotter with each second.

And then suddenly it's getting larger, and smoke begins to fill the small room. Ventilation? Might be a problem. She puts her hands on the hips of her sheepskin breeches and cocks her head, coughing just a bit. ]

...Well, at least it's a cookfire, alright. That's something.


[[ooc: yes, Ygritte has started a small - for now - fire, in her room. Come stop her before she burns it down? ]]

[ there's the rustling of fabric, and a breath before irene speaks. she's tapping something against her palm as she does, a steady counterrhythm to her words.]

So it seems we've managed to get through a jump without any unfortunate mishaps. What a lovely change of pace.

Heyyyyyy, this is Ned.

[ Heyyyyyy, that's not Ned. That's a golden retriever panting into the screen. The Pie Maker eventually leans into view while the dog moves aside. Definitely a dog with manners. ]

How many of us on board have... pets? [ —Can't quite pinpoint the right word. He really means Digby as a friend rather than a pet. "Pet" doesn't sit well on his tongue, a taste he would easily spit and replace with... "a best friend." The lightened mood in his expression is evident, reunited and doomed together in space, but it's just a little odd how carefully distanced he is from the dog, clasping his hands together. An allergy seems to be the logical excuse. ]

I'm sure Digby would enjoy the company. He does at home, but you know, that's not really the case anymore. [ A pause. Something he had forgotten: ] Yeah, to the newcomers... Ned. Digby. [ A bark. ] Hi.

[The comm’s broadcasting voice, because it’s simplest. It looks like a fancy walkie-talkie, why wouldn’t it work like one? Bucky sounds -- well, a little tired, and a little confused, but being alive is good enough for him right now.]

This is Sergeant James Barnes, 107th infantry. Does anyone wanna tell me why I’m on a spaceship, or am I just hallucinating I’m Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers?

[A little bit of a pause.] A year would be good, too. Since I’m pretty damn sure this isn’t 1945, and I’m going to assume that since the controls aren’t in German, we won. We did, right? [Howard's told him a few things, but -- not everything. There's a lot to catch up on, after all.]

….Anybody out there? Help a fella out.

In light of recent events upon the outpost it's clear that there are a number of us who are suffering the after-effects of torture. You all have my utmost sympathies - I have witnessed such things before and I will offer the same services here that I gave to my dear friend when he was put under a similar duress.

[ A duress that Durham himself instigated, yes, but that's another matter entirely. Or so Durham tells himself. ]

Whilst those who have been subjected to a torture most terrible are undoubtedly brave, it would not be thought of an act of cowardice to wish to rid oneself of the memory of such a trauma. Torture does not end just because one has been released from the cell; there are the lingering effects of anxious melancholies, exhausted spirits, weakened nerves... to say nothing of restless sleep.

You need not bear these memories as a millstone and for those that wish it I will gladly relieve you of such a burdensome weight. You may find me in my cabin - the eighth room upon the eighth passenger deck. Ask for Thomas Sutton - [ A thoughtful pause, then he adds: ] - or perhaps it would do better if you were to ask for Durham. Either way, I shall endeavour to do my utmost to help those that are prepared to ask for it.

[ Another pause, longer this time, and then Durham picks up again. This time his voice is harder, cooler; this is a matter of business, rather than a favour. ]

And while I am here I may as well announce this too - Oxford. Your Durham has disembarked. In light of this I propose a parlé. I would request that we meet un-armed but as both of us possess weapons that are not so easily cast aside, might I simply ask that it be under a white flag of truce? I do not know how many of your fellows remain on board but I suppose they may attend as well.

( OOC : Durham is essentially offering a bit of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Hit me up HERE if you have any questions! )

[As Harry turns on his device, video is barely visible for a moment. He's poised over it with two screwdrivers, obviously trying to work it from a distance. Behind him are a few leaves and plants from the oxygen garden, as it's one of the areas he feels that he can be in without short-circuiting something important. The feed dissolves into static, his voice still present underneath the steady buzz.]

Dammit. This really isn't the time.

[The static grows louder for a moment then much softer, but Harry's voice is distant.]

I'm having... technology problems. The not-so-usual kind that comes with, well, being a wizard.

[More static bursts across his feed and he has to move further back.]

Look, can someone meet me in the garden to talk about the pods and the jump? I don't think this thing is gonna--- [oh yep there the feed goes.]





(ooc: Shoving this up while I can at work. Will be very slow. Open action to the oxygen garden! <3)

For those of us who aren't wandering headlong into an exciting adventure aboard the first outpost most of us have ever seen - let's get to know one another better.

Why did you decide to stay? Really, when given the opportunity to go down to an alien outpost and explore, why did you decide not to go? Could be that it's a lot more fun down there than up here. Seems a shame to stay behind, actually.