[ John is out of his room. John is, in fact, at his job in the lounge. He's shining some glasses as he looks at the communicator and it's obvious that he took a while to try and collect his thoughts and still isn't quite satisfied with what he wants to say but after a moment- ]

So there are some people on here who die a lot.

Like. If you've died more than three times in the last six months? I'm looking at you. And I'm going to keep looking at you, because guess who gets to feel it? Every time?

Me. I do. Like getting an adrenaline shot to the heart. S'great. Absolutely 10/10, A+, would buy from this seller again. [ The sarcasm is light but sharp here. ] And while there are obvious exceptions, 'kay, I know Poop Emoji happens. But how many of these times, and be honest with yourselves... is about you doing some dumb shit? Dumb shit to prove something to other people, dumb shit to prove things to yourself? And some part of you thinks 'eh, I'll come back, it's just harming me' but here's your newsflash that no, actually you're harming a whole bunch of people.

Anyone who has to find your body.

Anyone who has to sit by your bedside until you wake up.

Anyone who has to feed you and look after you or even just watch you look like shit for a week.

Because those things don't go away. Those things don't just disappear in a week. They're going to live in someone else's head for the rest of their existence.

And yeah, I hate it. I hate it a lot. Because death is stupid here and doesn't need to happen because it's pointless. So it's doubly frustrating.

[ He puts the glass down. ]

I don't even know where I'm going with this other than just- some of you have a fucking deathwish and you need to deal with it and not the way you're dealing with it. I'll leave it there. John out.

[ If you're looking for him, you'll find him at the lounge, serving drinks and occasionally sending them out via skeleton waitstaff or on the deck, staring at the stars to see if he notices anything in the distance. He's still occasionally in the library viewing rooms, but he tends to take the ones deep in the library. There's always his cabin but... good luck. There's only a few people he'll open up for these days. ]

[private to Nathaniel]

Have you worked through what I sent you?

[private to Trevor]

You do swords?

[private to Iris]

[ Nothing but dead air, unsure of what to say, but it's his communicator number on it. ]

ETA: PS I'm not naming names to anyone, but if you see yourself in this picture and you don't like it, that's not on me.