[ Feed clicks on to a young man with an ostentatious ring on his visible right hand. His expression is placid, but there's a line around his brows and a smudge of dirt on his cheek. ]

Aaah, well this place is certainly something, isn't it? To think I thought I'd seen the weirdest things the world had to offer. My name is Haruto Souma, and I have two questions, if you'd be so kind! First, these undead creatures, formerly human and, well, otherwise--are they safe to kill, or should I continue just, ah, restraining them? Is there a difference between the animal ones and the human ones? I only arrived recently, I'm not sure if this is a regular event, or if there's some kind of procedure you guys have in place for these things.

[ The camera shifts, and there's at least three or four zombified woodland creatures huddled up and bound by a magic circle and several magic chains. Haruto looks unperturbed by the condition of the rotting, living animals. ]

If I do have to keep them locked up, is there someone I can, well, deliver them to? Or a way for someone to come pick them up, preferably, my spell isn't exactly portable.

Ah, and second--is there a place to get good doughnuts around here?

[ Zombie problem or not, there are important questions to be answered here, you understand. He smiles, as if it's not an out-of-place question. ]

tl;dr: A bunch of kids are stuck in an apartment room, the hallway outside surrounded by zombies. They tried to pull off a "Left 4 Dead" but end up getting stuck inside. Anyone care to evacuate them? (May it also be noted they're technologically blind, so they don't know how to use kitchen equipment to cook for themselves, etc. WHAT IS A TOASTER??) God bless these kids.

Note: All four will be tagging you! (On separate threads for speed.)

[ Why hello there strangers! What a beautiful day to be locked inside of a room with a bunch of people, right?

Wrong.

The image flickers to a face unknown from this world, and from the looks of it this boy does not seem happy. His lips are pressed together; eyes knitted into a glare while still trying to retain his normal and proper composure. ]

I need to know how I was brought here— there has to be a way out! [ His voice was rushed, and concern was clear upon blemished features. ] What... is this place?

[ The question was addressed not only the device in his hands, but also the various array of people that accompanied him. This prince was Not Pleased.

Also he may or may not be trying to leave the room. ] If anyone were to provide answers to this situation, it will be greatly appreciated.

[ Thankfully, the other people— a bunch of kids really, one of those kids immediately secure the uneasy prince before he decides to rush out to the hallway full of zombies. The shortest kid, Aladdin, gives him a huff very close to a pout. ]

Hakuryuu, we already told you! There's no way out yet. I'm sure everyone is working on it, so... A-anyway, this isn't the time for that!

( BUT WAIT there's more )

[Kuchiki Byakuya isn't one to slack on training, mandatory or not. Back home he trains every day, and while he did let it go for a few days after his arrival while he was getting situated, but he started up again as soon as he got a feel for where he could do it without being interrupted.

Of course, going to the training grounds at five in the morning makes for a rather deserted place. And the Initiative Trainer who nods at him from afar seems to have understood that he neither wants nor needs help right now.

He starts going through his routine, unsheathing the katana and moving with precise, slow movements that are becoming increasingly rapid. And soon he adds flash step into it, which makes him disappear from where he is standing and seemingly reappear at the other hand of the room in less than a second.

This time, when his zanpakutou's materialized form flickers into view, mirroring his movements, he's ready for it. The silhouette is a little transparent, sometimes more solids than others, and they move in unison, going through the motions of the practice kata faster and faster, again and again. They finish back to back, each with their blade pointed straight in front of them.

Then Byakuya sheathes his katana, and the shape of Senbonzakura slowly fades from view. Byakuya closes his eyes for a few seconds, then opens them again and goes to pick up the communicator.]

I would like to inquire about the weapons system. Has anyone experienced any difficulties with it? If you already had a sentient weapon before arriving here, did it feel any different afterwards?

[Cue video feed... now.

Korra's shown standing outside the Hold in the rain, appearing rather intent on something. In her free hand sits a snowball. Where it came from is anyone's guess, since there's not any snow to be found in the city, at least nothing natural. She looks at the screen now. When she speaks, her tone is al business.]

Recently, as basically all of us know, things have been-- for lack of a better term-- depressing. Masquerade aside, I mean. No offense.

Back home, I'm from the South Pole. There's snow there all the time, which makes it really easy to find stuff to do. You can build with it, throw it, eat it, sleep in it, and more. The possibilities are pretty numerous, and I for one, miss it.

Now, for those deprived people who don't know what snow is, let me show you.

[She holds her hand towards the camera, showing off the aforementioned snowball.]

This is snow in a snowball. It's basically frozen water, not quite ice yet. Snowballs are very, very fun. You may be asking why that is, and that's a perfectly valid question. Again, let me show you.

[The camera turns to show Korra hurling the snowball at a random passerby, hitting them square in the back of the head with a startled yell. Now, back to Korra.]

Starting a snowball fight is a good way to make friends or annoy people who have no sense of fun. There'd be more potential if we actually had snow. This is where we can come in. I want to know if anyone here can control or manipulate water. Get enough of us, and we could set up pretty neat place.

So, anyone in?

((ooc; come across her, or be the poor soul who was beaned in the back of the head. 8D))

[Lee doesn't look like he's in a great mood. The screams outside the workshop door made him open it, then he shut it fast. Sliding a steel rod through the handles, it's clear he's not going anywhere.]

I think it's better I stay inside today. The natives look a bit restless. Anyone have any ideas for a good, quite, addictive game that isn't solitaire?

[Thankfully there are no windows but he will be stuck in his chosen lab location for a while. He tries to hide his nervousness. He's a robotics engineer, not a zombie hunter. Jeez.]

Tell me when it's over.

[A slightly pale and more-than-slightly displeased Ema greets the screen. It looks like she may have had one or two or three narrow escapes from undead.]

This is a really nice way to bring us in here... Oh, it's on already--? [she clears her throat and launches in with barely a preamable.]

I'm Detective Ema Skye... I have a question. So we've pretty much taken care of those... zombie-things now, right? [she ticks off on her fingers:] Also, we heard that animals were the disease vectors, and that something called "holy magic" [she wrinkles her nose at that] can cure them.

That's all well and good...But has anyone done a real forensic investigation? We could trace this back to the source, or at least figure out how it happened... [Her displeasure seems to melt away rather quickly.] It's all part of the power of science!

[The Elf fiddles with the small computer, touching the various buttons until his face appears, glancing somewhere off-camera. He is easily recognizable to some as a blood elf, and appears utterly fascinated by the contraption before him, and obviously enjoying playing with it.]

...You know, this almost seems like a neat little way to solve quite a few of my current problems, if only in a temporary fashion. Of course, in closing one door another dozen others have a habit of opening in return.

[Food for thought, there. The Elf flicks one long ear and leans back from where he's sitting, quiet for a moment, as if trying to figure out just what he should say next. When he finally speaks again, there's a lightness to his voice that isn't quite conveyed in his eyes, despite the relatively smooth performance.]

But where are my manners? I apologize. My name is Duibhín Sunstorm and I'm a recent transport, like others, it seems, for what it's worth.

[He shrugs delicately and lets his lips curl into the faintest of smiles. Time to make the best of a strange situation and find something to occupy himself with before he ends up having a temper tantrum.]

Don't be shy now. I'm rather eager to meet people.

[He really has no desire to make this post. If he were acting entirely of his own accord, he would simply follow the trail of dead, as it were, until they brought him to Arthas. But despite the guilt weighing on him for everything that's happened recently, and despite how very little he wants to discuss it, he had promised not to face Arthas alone again. To several people.

Koltira is, at the very least, a man of his word.]

I have noticed some of you wondering about the cause behind the recent infestation of malevolent undead. Only a few beings here have the ability to spread the plague of undeath [such as Koltira himself.], and only one of them is interested in doing so with abandon.

Arthas Menethil is responsible for these attacks. He is a man--a monster--of great power and evil, and he eventually becomes known as the Lich King back in our home, Azeroth. He has razed cities; destroyed civilizations. He would like nothing more than to turn this island into a necropolis.

I don't intend to let him.

[This next part is difficult. He might grind his teeth a little.]

If you feel the need to accompany me, you may, though I advise against it. I saw many of you take Arthas for a posturing fool back when he introduced himself. I assure you that he is not. Especially not here. This war-torn island is the perfect place for any necromancer to work, and few necromancers are as skilled as a death knight. Going after him will mean going after whatever else he has dredged up from these corpse-ridden fields.

[He pauses, and then adds.]

I have also not seen much of the Lady Jaina Proudmoore recently. As she is not the type to sit idly by during a Scourge incursion, I must conclude that Arthas has done something to her. Rescuing her, if I can, is my other objective.

[But, he has to be real. It's mostly about Arthas.]

If you wish to assist me, meet me outside the Hold, five hours from now.