[Gordon fidgets when he first sits down in front of the camera, fiddling with his glasses.]

So... for those of you who don't know me, my name is Doctor Gordon Freeman. I'm a scientist and a Transport just like all of you, and there's something that I've observed for the longest time that intrigues me.

Magic. Some of us use it here, or at least have powers that are worthy of the term... Now, I'm not looking to start any sort of science-versus-magic debate here. On the contrary; I'd like to ask those of you who use such powers a few questions about them so that we can gain a better idea of what kinds of powers we've got around here.

Where do you draw your power from? How is it focused? Do you use spells, words, gestures, symbols? Or something else? Are there any dangers to you when you use it? Things like this. I realize some of this might be personal, but anything you can volunteer would be useful; hell, it's still better than nothing.

[The video feed turns on and shows Meg, but she's not anywhere in the city boundaries. It looks like she's out adventuring.

She is indoors, but the house is obviously in ruins. She must be miles outside the city in one of the uninhabited areas.

Meg crouches down and picks up the remains of a doll. It's tattered and covered in dust.]

Has anyone ever looked around out here?

[She blows the dust off the doll and tidies up her dress.]

Wonderin' if anything interesting has ever been found. Hm, guess we'd be pretty bored to kick up other peoples garbage.

Light! [ Sure hope you wanted one (1) two meter tall guy shouting over the network today, Exsilium, because you're going to get it. Snow shakes his tablet a few times for emphasis, yelling into his surroundings as much as the screen itself. ] Vanille! Fang! Hope! Sazh! C'mon, someone answer...

[ Well, scratch that. He rubs the back of his head for a moment, before setting the tablet down and turning away. ]

I'm gonna need some help here... Ladies! Mind lendin' me a hand?

[ The feed catches the summoning of said ladies, though the pair are onscreen only a moment before transforming into a motorbike which Snow gleefully leaps aboard. He gives a heroic thumbs-up pose to the tablet before snatching it back up, tossing the (still transmitting) thing into a coat pocket. ]

Haha, alright! Let's get this show on the road!

[It's not long before something else is heard in the distance, a sound akin to a low rumble, or perhaps a growl.

It's all but confirmed when that growl becomes a roar, and a little later, a voice that might be familiar to some speaks up:]

I'll take the sky! We'll cover more ground that way. [Fang adds, in a mutter:] They've gotta be around here somewhere. No way we all could've been separated that quickly...there's something else going on.

[ ooc; TL;DR IF YOU EVER WANTED TO BE ACCOSTED BY A GIANT MAN ON A LESBIAN MOTORCYCLE OR AN ATTRACTIVE LADY ON A DRAGON today is your lucky day because they will be hitting up everyone they come across in addition to answering the network. Tags will come from both in separate threads! ]

( Silence dominates the feed before you're met with Kael'thas' face, his expression a passionate scowl. It is obvious that he'd no intention to make his presence known, but in the interest of avoiding a great many unfortunate encounters that he'd rather not make into surprises, he's going through with it. Also, maybe Jaina will see him!!!

So, have some asshole who doesn't actually look quite as effeminate as his bishounen art would have you believe—scowling with brightly glowing, green eyes. What is that shit? Oh, it's just another elf. Also, he sounds very eerily like Axel and Raiden, but nbd, nbd. )

I have no use for this network, nor its shrieking inhabitants, and this magical trinket with which I am expected to navigate it is unfriendly and wretched.

Still, I refuse to enter this place one-hundred percent unprepared. My name is Kael'thas Sunstrider, and I have met some of you yet. Tell me what you can of your experiences here, that I may prepare myself for the unanticipated.

And for those to whom it concerns—I take no issue with you, in whatever imagined missteps you may place blame upon me for. I would appreciate a modicum more respect.

( Click. )

You look away for a little bit, and suddenly the place is overrun. [Shepard... A month is not really "a little bit". Her sense of time is distorted. But hey, when you've buried yourself in booze to ignore the fact that people you care about are now gone, well...

A smirk play along her lips.] I suppose introductions should be made. I'm Shepard. Commander, if you'd like to get formal with it. I'm good with either.

Now that we've gotten that little business out of the way, I was wondering which of you fine recruits would like to share a drink. Drinking alone, as I've learned, is boring. And a little depressing. Come on, first round's on me. I'll even promise to keep my hands to myself. [Have a bit of an eyebrow waggle.]

[ Wanda is in her usual red, though the clothes are slightly more low-key than her usual superhero fare.  If a girl can't use her reality warping powers to update her wardrobe, what is the point of even having powers?]

Ah, I suppose I should start with a welcome to all the new comers, but that seems a bit disingenuous.  My name is Wanda Maximoff, though I am known as the Scarlet Witch in my world.

[And that is, perhaps, a test.  Seeing if there was perhaps someone from her world out there who she hadn't seen on the network yet.]

Since it seems we're in the middle of a lull, I thought I might follow up on an idea Collette had.  I'm not entierly keen on going back underground after spending entierly too much time down there already, but perhaps there is something to find down there.  Something that may be more worthwhile than questionable teen fiction.

It'll be something else to do aside from waiting for the next disaster or mad time traveling expedition, at the very least.

[Drake's never cared much for technology, so it's no surprise that the feed starts abruptly and with a loud thud at an odd angle displaying the right horrific mess that has become his room.

Remember that time we all got sent into medieval Russia? Yeah, you might find some familiar weapons around along with some trinkets. Drake's standing with his back facing the camera, his trusty sketchbook in his back pocket, hands on his hips, looking around.

Quite unceremoniously, he shoves things around and they sort of crash into the walls.

Which causes a Mongol Bow and a scimitar he had set up to come crashing down.]

Crap.

((ooc: roommates and neighbors feel free to notice the destruction he's causing, if not, carry on))

[ Video--coming from Adam's tablet for once, and not his retinal enhancements. it shows him, obviously in his messy apartment, and obviously... different from what one might be used to. he's neither properly dressed nor his usual stoic, composed, monotone self.

but most notably, the lenses of his shades--which are mounted to his head--are retracted. his eyes are visibly artificial. here's the usual gravely voice: ]

...And they keep dragging more and more people here. Or is that the machine malfunctioning again? Can't be sure anymore.

Anyway, hello. My name's Adam Jensen and I'm -- [ insert vague, dismissive gesture here--his hand, too, is artificial and looks like it's made out of black metal. ] ... who the fuck even cares. I'm the local oversized can opener. Hi.

[ if it wasn't obvious before that he's drunk, it's sure as hell now. ]

Given the uh, premise under which you all arrived here as well as the popularity of thought-provoking surveys lately, let's talk about a topic each of you surely can contribute to with a story or two. Since I couldn't help but notice that we're quite a miserable bunch of misfits. Exceptions prove the rule by the way.

[ pause, during which he reaches off screen... for his smoke. ]

So, broken dreams. There's a pretty catchy song on them by Green Day which I can only recommend. But before you scurry off to find it, why don't we share with the class why we're all so damn bitter, and not only since we ended up in this shithole. Though I guess the shithole made it worse, in some cases. I don't know. Getting it off your chest might have a soothing effect, or something.

[ another pause, and he seems pensive for a moment. he might be able to offer alternative treatment methods for your troubles which may involve punching ahem. ]

Here, I'll start. I was planning to get married not too long ago, start a family. I had the perfect girl, a decent job I liked and paid well, and then--then science happened.

[ a dry, humorless chuckle. ]

Gotta love science. Your turn.

[The feed opens to an upwards shot of this guy. His expression is hard to read but a sharp ear might be able sense a bit of boredom in his tone. There are scatterings of white fur dotting his black armor, which he brushes off with clear distaste as he speaks.]

There are multiple theories about the afterlife. You humans have more than a few of your own. I believe rebirth is one of them. Eternal damnation another. Both too extreme for me but I expected something similar.

Needless to say, this place has… altered my expectations. Next time, I'll be sure to anticipate more fur.

[Hear that Korra? Yeah that's aimed at you and your little dog, too. Speaking of which, he brushes more white fur off his shoulder and continues, mandibles raised slightly in an alien grin.]

As for the rest of you, since introductions seem to be the standard here, allow me to make my own. [The grin disappears, replaced by a cold, unreadable expression.] My name is Nihlus Kryik. I… was a Spectre under the authority of the Citadel Council. Some here will recognize what that means, the rest of you shouldn't concern yourselves with it. All you need to know is that I'm here to help.

[Luminada sighs, shaking her head a little as she activates the device.] There, there we are. [She clears her throat for a moment, staring at the screen with those eerie eyes of hers.]

...This...device is helpful, if strange. At any rate, I have a request. Does anyone here know of a place ... conducive to engineering? I am able to make explosives and other devices, given the correct tools.

[Her dragonhawk's beak can be seen on-screen for a moment, before she very gently nudges it away.]

Thank you in advance for your assistance - my name is Luminada, by the way. Sirene, that is not food...

[Click.

...
...

Someone's pretty bad at this socializing thing, isn't she?]