Shortly after I first arrived here, leaves began to fall on deck and demons boarded the ship. That was two years ago. Last year, leaves also fell. We visited Earth during the twenty-first century, in a city called Salem. Many of us purchased costumes there, and later found ourselves turned into what those costumes depicted.

Now it is October again, and the Barge has begun to corrode. Potentially familiar figures have appeared, but not contacted us. I'm reminded of the time we spent without the Admiral's attention. [Yeah remember that time we were dead in space. That time. :|]

This month culminates in a traditional, and very old holiday on Earth. Halloween. As I understand it, the purpose of this holiday is manifold: to obtain vast amounts of sweets, to scare as many people as possible, to experience fear in a relatively safe environment, to celebrate harvest, to mourn the departed, to hide from the departed. I understand very few of these, but there is a typical theme on the Barge of following Earth's holidays.

Two years ago, a demon pierced my hand with a spear. [...On a chain. Whatever. Details. :|] Last year, we were given a certain grace period, possibly due to the port in the abandoned mental health facility.

Our last port was in a 'fairy tale' environment. [I.e., we are due for some awful fucked up shit, guys.]

[Private to Kay]

How likely do you believe it is that these entities were former workers here?

[Private to Spock]

How have you been settling in? [She's absorbed small talk. Sorry you have to sit through it. :c]

[Private to Trip]

It may be prudent to begin carrying your phase pistol with you.

[Private to Slade]

Have you noticed anything that has gone unmentioned, about these entities or their sounds?

[Private to the Fourth Doctor]

[Backdated to a little while after this.] Mister Rhade requested someone to bring him to the greenhouses, and I obliged. When we arrived, I noticed a change in his breathing patterns, before he ceased to breathe entirely. A short time after, he was dead; I do not know how, but I have taken him to the infirmary. Denise saw to him.

[The video flicks on to T'Pol looking almost alarmed. Behind her, Trip is shirtless, and there is definitely a (baby) bump to the left of his stomach. He's sitting on her bed and - is that crying? That might be crying.]

Who in the infirmary has remained unaffected by the flood? I believe we will require medical attention.

[Private to Slade]

[Added a little later, because fffffff baby.] Do you know who I am?

[Warden Filter]

[Added later, after Mozenrath's little call for help.] I've taken Severus to level zero. I've confiscated the pieces of his wand, and suggest he remain in zero until the flood ends. [Or at least until Arthas makes it unfuckingbearable. :c]

[FAIL warden filter]

Until either myself or Amanda Young is paired, I will be acting as her temporary warden. I don't want her in contact with Mark Hoffman; should any of you find them speaking [or arguing, or fighting, or killing each other :|] I ask that you intervene and inform me immediately. As Ms. Young's post made clear, they cannot be trusted in close quarters.

[FAIL Private to Trip]

[This flood hates her. And she is going to loathe it right back in her own special way. But right now, she's turning on the video function so she can be extra awkward. She even looks a little uncomfortable, be she's steeling herself, because she has done her research, damn it, and this seems appropriate-ish. Ignore the way Khoteth is constantly in awe of the camera, he likes seeing himself on screen. T'Pol's just firmly putting him on the floor when he gets annoying.]

Regarding our recent conversation - I find that lying, even in a small way, has made me uncomfortable. If we are agreed to pretend to be married, it's only logical that we should agree to be married.

[Oh God what is she saying Yes Trip. She's asking you to marry her. REACT.]

I believe we're approaching the influx of new crew members. It's somewhat odd that so many have vanished just beforehand. Does anyone have a solid room count? [Maybe the Admiral's just. Making room. Oh God something else to worry about. :|]

[Private]

( personal log. STARDATE: Unknown... )

[Private to Data]

May we speak, Commander? I would benefit from your advice.

[Private to the Borg Queen]

We should discuss the deal we made.

[So spending a weekend with Trip would usually be a good thing. It was probably on her general list of things to do for the near future. But doing so after being stabbed in the heart with a pointed stick really wasn't how she planned it going down. She's pretty much missed all of the craziness that went on. So this is most definitely not video, and most definitely confused.

So, so confused.]

What happened?

[Spam for Trip]

[Hey Trip. Maybe they can make this not be awkward. T'Pol is just glad she was wearing pajamas when she snapped out of it. Composing herself is kind of. Not the most fun thing in the world to be doing right now. She really, really needs to meditate, but has the inkling that Trip would take being kicked out so she can do that the wrong way. So she's just going to sit on her bunk. Derp. Now what.]

I take it you encountered Captain Kirk.

[And now is as good a time as any for Trip to meet Khoteth. The cat has wandered out to inspect this person who's been in his space for a few days. Cause really, this is all his. He has that cat mentality in spaces. Trip is getting sniffed. Any sudden moves and Khoteth will bolt to the other side of the room.]