exsilium | énska [experimental video]

[The woman who has pressed record on this tablet looks as though perhaps she has made a mistake because she does not speak for a long time, and seems to make no effort to find any words. It has taken her some time to come to terms with where she is, how she has come to be here, but it does not mean she has to like it and there is no doubt in her mind that she does not like it here with its ruined land and cities.

And ruined people.

She has yet to venture into the room that has been set aside for her in the Initiative hold, wanting nothing from these people who have taken everything from her, and instead she is sitting by a fire she's set for herself in the shell of a building where someone- her son, her adult son- has set up a camp, curiously studying this tablet which is somehow able to allow people to communicate. Ratonhnhaké:ton- and it is still strange and hard for her to associate a full grown man with the four year old she left behind- had shown her how it worked, and she puts this newfound knowledge to the test as she looks at the device.

For a while that is all she does, wondering what it is that people say on such a thing... why they would want to even. Nothing about this world makes sense.

The fire crackles some, she seems to poke at it with a stick causing sparks to fly, and then the sound of the almost omnipresent rain is accompanied by the low grumble thunder. While she glances out at the gloom she shakes her head and speaks, the corner of her lips quirking up just a fraction as she does, though her voice low and calm.]

With weather like this I can see why the British would have wanted to take other lands for their own. Does it do nothing but rain in this place?

[It is hardly the most scintillating way to introduce oneself to the neighbours, but Kaniehtí:io does not have much experience with small talk.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[~~And, no doubt, her technical details encyclopaedia is conveniently indisposed in the process of buying her some milk~~]

The only free trip I want is the one that will take me home.

Unfortunately, they don't seem to have control over that. I've heard they're working on it, but--[she shrugs]--who knows when it'll be feasible?

[Weary irritation flickers over her face, directed at the situation, not Ziio.]

A lot of us would already be gone if we could.

Then they should work harder.

[She is not the only one who's irritated, not by a long shot.]

They are fools if they want people to fight a war that is not theirs.

[She snorts]

Fool is one of the milder words I've heard used. They seem to mean well, but they're hardly the only world in the middle of a hard war.

[And said worlds could use their fighters back.]

[She frowns and straightens where she sits. It does not surprise her that she is not the only one to have been drafted here from a time of conflict. That phrasing strikes a chord with her. That their intentions are good, their reasoning means well.]

They always mean well. That does not mean that they are right.

Of course not. But it does explain their desperation--there's little more dangerous than someone who thinks they're acting in service of a higher calling.

[Well that's certainly something she knows about.]

A higher calling. I wonder how many good men have lost themselves to those.

That seems to be universal.

[She tilts her head]

Mind if I ask where you're from?

I am a Kanien'kehá:ka from Kanatahséton, in the Mohawk Valley. Where did they take you from?

[Because she hasn't quite seen features like yours on any settlers she's met.]

[She frowns a bit; none of that sounds familiar]

I'm from Seireitei, in Soul Society. It's rather...isolated; most people haven't heard of it.

[Although not for the reasons one might think]

It is not somewhere I have heard of either.

[And whoever heard of a country that was a Society? That sounds strange.]

Is it a large land?

Pretty big, yeah. The city I grew up in is the smaller of the two main sections, but Rukongai is enormous. It has 320 districts.

[Wait wat.]

Three hundred and twenty?

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