( The speaker, whoever she is, speaks with perfect English, but she's got a pretty strong Sicilian accent; she plays it up, a little. It helps to have another barrier between herself and when she's Huntress. Helena has no need to sound anywhere near so rough and terrifying, save for when she's living up to her last name.)

It looks like I chose a bad time to get acquainted with the city. ( A beat, and maybe you can hear that wryness in her smile. ) Or, maybe the city chose a bad time to get acquainted with me.

( Really. She could imagine more ridiculous accusations at home, though she tries not to let the slow-burning and eternal irritation show; and she's good at that, at the very least.

Hardly a moment to breathe, let alone think, since she got here. Spoiler being alive, Grayson being Robin, and then plague, bombs-- no, she's really not had much time to get a feel for the place. Using this thing seems to be the done thing, though, and at the very least, is a means for keeping tabs on people, known or otherwise. )

I imagine, with all the rebuilding that everyone will be busy for quite a while. Are there any programs that need support staff, right now? I'm a history teacher, at home.

( Let's see what we get. There's no time like the present, right? )

( gamora's been lucky enough to avoid getting sick and to avoid being squished into green paste by the bombing. it's been a lively month, but her expression is far from amused. or even the general disdain she's taken to addressing the network with.

it's settled into something that's obviously 'intense dislike'. )

Next time anyone tries to pick a fight with me I'm going to do more than dent a wall with them. Especially if their reasoning is "someone who clearly isn't human, they must be someone we don't want around!". Terrans are outnumbered everywhere in the galaxy except for this rock, and yet somehow you think you're special.

Get over yourselves.

( guess who's just been harassed by a citizen of exsilium who has it in for those obvious transports? and guess who ever so kindly did nothing to improve the relationship between the two groups? )

Is everyone okay?

( She's looking worse for wear, has lost a lot of the muscle she'd managed to build up since getting here. Still, she offers a little grin, a cushion on her lap that her hands are idly twisting into, before she remembers the cup of tea nearby and grabs it up, warming her hands around it. )

So, uh. Okay.

( Eloquent, Linton. )

Do-- is anyone here familiar with Gwen Harwood? She's an Australian poet. I was thinking about her a bit, but I haven't been able to track her down. She wrote this thing, once about how death has become obscene, and philosophers...

( Ellie tilts her head, running her fingers through her hair, gaze not really focused on anything. )

It's been a while. But it's really good. I don't even know if anyone here is that into literature and poetry and stuff except for Dagger. Any takers?