( Cue one video post with Mr. Casey, looking a couple years older. The thin grey sweater covers up all the major markers of change in terms of more tattoos and more scars, save for a thin one running across his throat. Maybe the light obscures it - maybe it doesn't. The real thing is that he looks calmer, less uncomfortable with himself, even doing a video post. More steady, less haggard. Like he actually might sleep instead of being constantly run down. )

Uh, hey. I just-- thought I should um, let p-people-- know I'm back.

( Actually he got a little while ago, as those living with Max probably know, but he's sort of been sticking around her pretty constantly all that time. Not being around when she returned to the house seemed like a bad idea, all things considered. )

Or if you knew uh, a guy c-called-- called Atlas. That was me, too. I don't um, don't really do the secret identity thing anymore. Just if anyone wanted to uh, track him d-down.

( he takes a couple more pauses when he speaks, goes through more slowly, less of the urgent need to jsut spit it out from before.

Well. There's... not much more to say. Really he needs to go and catch up with people one on one, talk to the clinic, find his friends, see how things are. This just felt necessary.

A little nod to the camera, a slight smile, and the feed cuts. )

[ bright and early, splayed on the network feed in somewhat old-timey poster fashion: ]

IMMEDIATE HELP WANTED

with the

Refurbishment and Construction

of

Shelters and Outposts

for purposes including but not limited to

Accommodation, Assembly, Defense, Medical Aid, Technical Support, Supply Reserves, Agriculture

and other prospective services to Transports and other associates.

All forms of assistance and input welcome and encouraged

including but not limited to technical aid, general labor, delivery and supply, security, liaison with third parties, and crew support.

Inquire in this post for further details.

----

( video version, within the same post )

(( OOC: APOLOGIES FOR THE SLOWDOWN IN REPLIES I'll get to everyone's as soon as I can ))

[This query brought to you by a pretty handful of missing puzzle pieces, not that you'd know, since Lenalee has no intent to justify or explain that imagery, nor to keep picking at scabs until they fester.]

We've already seen how the smallest change made can rewrite the entire history of this world. People are unborn, warheads are undropped... because we've cut out the circumstances which led to their happening.

How do you think that it might be the same for us? Transports come and go so often here and no one knows why. Whatever we do, we are always altering chances, there is no reason not to consider they could also be our own. That someone arrived on a day no longer existing may suddenly leave, or return by new circumstance, or forget they were ever here before.

It may be that we don't "go home", just. "Never arrive".

[ about ten minutes after broadcast, through careful squinting and experimentation, the feed is locked from Gilbert Nightray ]