[Incoming video of a vaguely unhealthy-looking girl with way too much hair!]

If it means that I'll be able to get out of these living conditions sooner, I'll offer my assistance in building something better. Construction magic isn't my specialty, but I'm confident I could cook something up if necessary.

As an unrelated point, I'm interested in this future world I've been taken to. I'd like to see what sort of magic has been developed by this era. Is there a proper library or other repository of magical knowledge anywhere in the city?

[Did she miss something? No, probably no-- oh right, introductions.]

...My name is Patchouli Knowledge. I am a magician of some experience. Nice to meet you all.

[ Sharpe has his tablet set on the table facing him, and his foot is on the chair, knee near his ear. His rifle is propped up against his other shoulder, and his fingers and moving down it, fingering the barrel. ]

I ain't one fer long speeches, so I'll keep this short. [ His eyes flicker finally towards the screen, and he stares straight into it. ]

I know I ain't the only one that's being given dirty looks by the Exiles - that's the proper name fer the poor bastards who're here 'fore all of us, fer those of you who don't know. And I'm telling you right out: if I see anyone fighting or using weapons against them, no matter what they're doing, I'll hunt you down and shoot you in the face. [ Said the most casually ever. But he is leaning forward. ]

That's a promise.

[ A second passes, and Sharpe seems satisfied with what he just said, so he drops back to his seat. ]

Listen. I've seen people like 'em before. People who just want peaceful lives but are dumped in the midst of war. [ Snorts. ] You all know the sickness and bombs last month [ pause ] - if you don't know, read back on the buggering network 'cause I ain't explaining shite you can read yerself - [ back to the topic ] and that's more than enough ta make anyone resentful. They hate us 'cause they think we brought the war ta 'em. We all know we didn't, but resentment's never been particularly logical. Grit yer teeth and bear it. Be decent.

If you try ta hurt 'em, it'll make things worse, and I'd rather not have ta make me own tea because the man in the shop I like starts hating me for the stupid shite any of you are doing. [ His eyes flicker up again. ] I don't ever miss, aye?

[ Pause. As if he's just thought of it. ] Me name's Major Richard Sharpe of the Prince of Wales's Own in Duke Wellington's army. [ A crooked smile, a salute. ] If that means anything ta any of you.

[ ooc; for more info, check out the outline about native hostility. I'm the slowest ever. ]

[ Eyes narrowed as he appears on screen, flesh white as a sheet, Azrael is frowning. ]

It appears I am back here again--my third arrival, one I'm certain not to forget. Third time is a charm, is it not?

[ A hum, then a smirk. ]

Things were getting boring where I was, so thank you.

Now--anyone going to give me a summary? Six words or less. Go.