[The tablet turns on with a steady feed, taking place somewhere near the main housing area. Huey's glancing at the screen with a friendly expression. There's no smile, but there's not a single of animosity either.]

Good day to all of you. My name is Huey Laforet, and I'm also one of the new arrivals. I'm assuming this happens quite often so I'm sorry if this introduction is a rehash of something you've heard already, but I appreciate you taking the time to watch this anyway. Hopefully, we'll be able to learn more about each other as time passes. To the other arrivals, it's nice to meet you as well despite the circumstances.

[He squints at the screen before adjusting it, making a slightly funny face as he does so.]

Is this working properly . . . ?

[He tries adjusting it again, making yet another face before finally giving up.]

Anyway, I'm trying to discover ways to pass my time here so advice on that subject matter would be appreciated. Can't waste time on this network like you can with the internet, unfortunately— Ah! But the library here is nice, isn't it? I think I'll probably spend a bit of time in there since I do enjoy reading quite a bit. Still, if you have other suggestions, I'd love to hear them. Hmmm . . .

My apologies, I don't really have much to say other than that. I suppose if you would like to contact me, you are welcome to leave a message. Otherwise, I'll see you all later.

[it's 3 o'clock in the morning, and Charles Foster Ofdensen is, thanks to the wonderful world of Exsilium, several things: he is bored. he is frustrated. he is tired. and he is slightly buzzed. training in the Hold can only do so much for a man who is used to taking care of hardcore business, and he is well aware that were he in possession of his full cadre of resources, he would have had this whole Transports Vs. The UE Vs. The Natives thing taken care of and in the bag by now.

around his third page of yellow legal paper, he gets tired of making notes, and starts to doodle.

it doesn't take him long to draw an old, familiar face from home. he taps his pencil thoughtfully against the paper, and bites his lip.

look at your life, Charles. look at your choices. ... nope, these are still excellent choices to be making at 3 AM on half a joint, two hours' sleep, and a glass of cheap local booze. these are the best choices ever.

he sounds remarkably calm for someone who's planning something completely ridiculous.]

Does, ah ... anyone out there have access to an image editing program? Something like, oh, let's say ... Flash? Something comparable?

[Text, Open]

What is a bard, to you in your world?

This is something that's worried me for a little while now. I've been thinking about it in my own world and circumstances, and... I still don't have an answer. Which worries me.

I want other's thoughts, that I might better understand what I think I am.

[Action, Around the town]

*At various bars, streets, and other areas, Pidonus can be found, lute in hand, playing a melody a few may have heard from the distance.

Someone here must have taught her this piece, at some point, for it's in English. And even the locals are stopping frequently to it's not-quite-rhythmic melodies and lyrics speaking of a world more like her own than where she was now.

More unusually, even for those who have heard Pidonus play before, this time, she is actively singing.

Perhaps you would care to join her?*

[The screen clicks on. There are stacks of paper on every side of Billy's room, with wire prototypes strung together. He looks weary and a little uncomfortable for a second, but this request requires a visual presentation.]

Do any of you happen to have experience with piano construction? I'm willing to trade services for materials, of course, and I'd like to help as much as I can. But my usual construction projects are much closer to this:

[Billy pushes a button on a remote in his hands, and then a little round robot walks on the desk that the tablet is propped on. It's a green baseball-sized bot that takes up most of the screen, greatly resembling a pea with tiny hands and feet. It 'smiles' and waves hello in a mechanical back-and-forth, then waddles out of sight.]

I can trade you a similar robot---it's useful for retrieving small items from small spaces, and it's easy to control from up to half a mile away. I'd like to add a camera mount with an additional viewing screen on the remote control when I have the materials for it. Or perhaps I can build something for you, or fix something you already own.

But this piano project is very important to me. I'd appreciate any help at a fair price.

[the shot opens on a fairly close-up view of Sanji's curious frown, his visible eyebrow raised and lips twisted around an unlit cigarette, but he quickly catches on and pulls it back to show more of him, a well-dressed man in a pinstriped vest lounging quietly wherever he is]

...huh, so it really does. Interesting. Anyway. [he raises a hand] Evening. There's a few questions the nice lady didn't answer for me, maybe the others hearing this can help me out. Quite frankly, I'm in need of three things. [he holds up his fingers as he counts them off] One, a good tailor who can set me up with a coat. Two, the locations of the best markets in town that actually have foods and spices, if there are any. Three, a place where I can buy some damn cigarettes. I'm going to be out in about three days' time.

[his demeanor changes abruptly, a stupid grin widening his face] ...oh, and if there are any beautiful ladies who would love to show a new guy around, maybe give him their personal tour of this shitty place? Please do speak up. The lovely woman who explained everything else to me didn't seem amenable to taking me around to all her favorite hot spots. If there are any – it really is kind of shitty out there. The name's Sanji. Black Leg Sanji.