[It's been quite some time since Connor has posted to the network. Besides his busy schedule keeping him from using the tablet more casually, he's been wary of leaving messages 'out in the open', so to speak. Who knows what scheming Initiative members and Templars might be watching?

But desperate times do call for desperate measures. He chooses the video option even though he still thinks there's something decidedly off-putting, maybe even dangerous, about recording your face on these window machines.

His hood is up and the background suggests he's on another roof.]

Are you all so concerned about your possessions that you would overlook murder?

[Someone's furious. Someone's beyond furious. (The United Earth and the Initiative might as well be made up of a bunch of Charles Lee's right about now.) There's a good bit of venom in his voice and at times he simply yells, half at the tablet, half at the city around him.

Needless to say, this wasn't what he was expecting to return to when he came back from his recent Outlands trip.]

The Initiative have made it very clear that not only do they intend to relocate us, but they mean to leave their own people behind to die. The excuse I have heard is that they have not the power to save them.

A bold-faced lie if ever there was one.

( Idealism never killed anyone oh wait- )

[Nathan frowns, a little confused as he takes a sip of his beer. He stares at the comm for a moment as if thinking about what he wants to say. Who knows, it might be profound and important and put everything in perspective and...]

Why the fuck's everyone talking about the moon?

[... ooooooor it could just show how little he actually pays attention to things.]

[She looks tired, a little strung out, like she's sure most people do right now, but this is important, and it's important that people listen, which means she's using video, in the hopes it'll help make this message stick.

When she speaks, it's steady enough, though there's hints of worry and desperation in her tone, at times. Indications of how serious she's taking this, how hard it's hitting her.]

I know everything's a mess right now, but if you're seeing this, I need you to take the time to sit and listen, please, because I'm trying to help all of us and that won't work if everyone ignores me. Some of are probably going to hate me for this, but that's okay, as long as you keep listening while you hate me.

[a beat; a breath]

We're not abandoning the Exiles.

( this got long winded )

[They will argue about moral choices until the city burns away. The choices here are ugly, and knowing the outcome regardless of their actions makes them uglier.

She never does this. Oriko has always believed that action is better than telling. People don't listen to soothsayers; truths must be learned on their own time. Never once has she simply come forward with information like this - everything was a speech, a story, a revelation, pulling threads and nudging.

She sounds, frankly, cold. Detached, but hoarse.]

What I have to say is brief, if you will hear it.

Here is what is going to happen:

There is no conceivable escape for Exiles at the shoreline. The fate they will meet there is no different. Guns wait for them, and death.

Don't send them down there indiscriminately, rashly, unless you send them knowing that.

[the video feed turns on to show ... well ... that cheery looking thing in the icon. cheery if you like skulls with visible muscles in the eye sockets, that is. it's animated, somewhat mid-grade Flash work, and ... it talks.

in a very high, grating falsetto]

Hey, all you folks out there in Transport land! I'm your new pal, FACEBONES, and I'm here to tell you all about E-VAC-U-A-TIONNNNN.

The first thing you probably evacuated when you heard we were going to the moon to keep from gettin' blown up were your bowels. And that's O-KAY. Just remember to change your pants before you get on the rocket so that everyone else doesn't form the permanent impression that you smell like a fucking sewer.

Everyone can take forty-five-point-who-cares kilograms of stuff along, which is a hundred pounds in Sorry I'm Not From Europe Weight. Basically this means you should only bring what's super duper important, like DRUGS AND BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZE.

Also we're going to the fucking moon, so you might wanna pack some stuff that's gonna keep you occupied and doesn't require bein' outside, because HI, THERE'S NO OXYGEN IN SPACE. You step outside in space to go take a nice run around the block and you're gonna DIE.

So if you have room after packing all your drugs and your booze, pack some nice PORN and maybe a bottle of lotion and whatever you like to jerk off to. I brought a picture of your mom.

Once you're all packed, just move in an orderly OH SHIT WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE fashion to the Hold and be sure to elbow all those poor innocent Exiles outta the way because nobody cares about the people who were here first to begin with, they're just a buncha helpless dildos. If they could've taken care of themselves anyway we wouldn't even BE here, so, ha ha, enjoy your apocalypse, you pansy faggots.

OKAY HAVE FUN ON THE ROCKETS NICE TO MEET ALL YOU ASSHOLES bye.

See you in space.

Where the tits bounce better.

[fun fact: if anyone tries to trace the IP of the original broadcaster, it's been encrypted to high heaven. enjoy your anonymous animated troll, Exsilium]

For a surprising change of pace, who is actually in favor of leaving the locals behind? Five hundred thousand odd lives, good as gone. Three hundred fifty of us in safety.

[because everyone who isn't is honestly an idiot.]

No lynching, please, ladies and gentlemen, let's have a civil discussion.

[When the video feed begins, it starts with Sollux leaning heavily on both his hands. Although it's video, it doesn't look like it's entirely intentional he meant for it to be a video broadcast, and he drags his hands away from his face and stares plainly at the communicator's camera. He looks a lot older right now than fifteen, his actual age. Like he hasn't slept in a week, (spoiler: He hasn't). On top of how tired he looks, his voice sounds hollow. ]

I can't believe I wath tho thtupid to think that thith place could be thomething worth trying to save. That we actually had a shot. It was all self-delusion, mostly. I should have known that it wath only a matter of time, before we would lose everything.

My bees are dead. Equius.

[A hard swallow.]

Equius is gone.

I can hear the screams of the Exiles and their future deaths. Every single one.

[He's in full Doom mode right now, it seems.]

[ Robin’s sitting up on a leaning perch in some heavy darkness, heavy and dark enough that it’s probably a good bet that he's up on the roof somewhere, away from what usually passes for the light and noise of the city. His legs are curled up and his face is drawn and puffy. But the expression he’s putting on for the tablet is set and hard; there are Things to say and he’s here to say them.

Yep, it’s another one of these posts. ]

This ends one of two ways.

We cut our losses and take responsibility for the deaths of 500,000 people, just like we had to last time. Only now we get to cool our heels in some cozy safehouse where we never even have to see the damage. [ A huffed, angry breath. ]

Or we stay here and try to do what they brought us here to do.

Maybe there is no way to stop it. Maybe they’re right and all these people are doomed already. But I don’t want to spend the next- [ his voice catches, but he pushes right past it. ] -The next who knows how long wondering if I could’ve made a difference. If I could’ve stopped the bomb before it even fell and saved everyone when it really counted the most. [ He stops and swallows, but his face stays... pretty icily resolute. Just try and stop him world. ]

Evacuations need to happen too, but we have to make sure there’s an Exsilium to bring everybody back to when it’s all over. So that’s where we need to start. Wherever the bomb is. [ By we he mostly just means... himself. Right now. But. This is the important part, so he forges on ahead. ]

I can't do this myself. I need... I need anybody who knows more about nuclear warheads than I do. Which isn't much right now. [ his tone says that's a change that's probably immanent. ]

Bring the whole arsenal. Nothing’s off limits.

[ If he doesn't need this bad right now, come five to six days from now he's really going to need it. ]

Alcohol. They carry any of it here?