[ the audio of the tablet is all that clicks on first; there’s some muffled noise, and what is possibly recognizable as the voice of Tidus, depending on who you are, saying something just out of earshot but sounding suspiciously like “don’t think that worked.” What isn’t working, exactly, isn’t clear, considering the screen’s just showing black, but it sounds like something’s being moved, and this time, more audibly:]

Let’s try this one...! [ A click, and the video shows the top of some blonde hair for half a second and a triumphant little noise before it shuts off again, and evidently hands it over to a nearby party. ] Got it?

[ after a sound of being handed to another, some of the excess noise subsides. It seems the person who has received it has a much gentler, delicate handling on the tablet. ] No, that’s not quite right. Here. [ a sound of a button being pressed, and then, the smiling face of a young woman some may recognize as Yuna. She turns the tablet around to show a blonde boy with a quizzical expression. She points to the button on the front. ] It’s this one. It took me a while, too. [ but she’s from a non-tech world, Tidus, you loser. extending her reach, she hands the tablet back to Tidus. ]

Er... Hey! Hi, Exsilium. Tidus here. And - this is Yuna. [ he offers a little wave and tilts the camera towards her a bit. ] Oh— H-Hello. [ boy, he should’ve thought this out a little better, but he’ll carry on fine. ]

( non-IC cut for length! )

Greetings, Exsilium. I am Miles Edgeworth and I have an announcement to make. In preparation for Thanksgiving, a silly American holiday where people gorge on turkey and celebrate historical inaccuracies by painting bald eagles with gravy, I have attempted to cook a simple but delicious mashed potatoes dish.

I have failed. It has been less than two hours since I stepped into the kitchen and I have already managed to soil my cravat, stain my vest and slightly singe my sleeves. It will take a lot of effort to rid the delicate embroideries on my vest with the potato bits that have gotten between the threads. It would take more effort to get rid of the stench of curdled milk, failure and shame that now permeates every corner of this kitchen.

I must now admit that I am not only a failure in the kitchen but also a failure as a man. I am a foolish fool who can not foolishly comprehend recipes so simple even a fool of the utmost foolishness can foolishly cook. I submit myself to your mockery, Exsilium. I deserve to be punished for my incompetence.

That is all.

[ Note: Franziska von Karma was here. Miles Edgeworth smells.

Franziska has hi-jacked her brother's communicator. She wrote this entire post. Expect tags from Franziska pretending to be Edgeworth, Edgeworth, and Franziska... probably. ]

Okay, so I didn't introduce myself that well earlier. Let me try it again.

My name is Peter Petrelli. I'm from New York, and I'm a registered nurse. So if anyone needs medical help, just give me a shout. I'm available any time day or night.

Before I arrived in this place, Danko told me that I had died for my freedom. Ironic. Now I'm here. Freedom again. Accepting servitude in one way for freedom in others. Follow the rules, behave. Do as they say.

Then you can do what you want. A gold star.

They're afraid of us. They don't understand. We have these abilities..

[A pause]

I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't want to be the only one with these kinds of powers. Someone else out there must have something they can do. I can't be the only one with my curse.