[it's a minute or so of a melody hummed, something thoughtful, simple. it persists even when she finds what she wants – that there video function, the telltale thing she knows for sure is her window to everyone else floating around with these things.

far too quiet for her, and quiet only a moment longer before she speaks up:]

I want to understand what it is your name means. Tell me?

[ here, exsilium, have a french accent. he also sounds perturbed, but it's better than his awful text messaging capabilities so you're welcome. ]

I have been told to update my musical tastes. I was also told that music by the orchestral group–[ this seems like he's having difficulty with the pronunciation ]–Evanescence–was befitting what was assumed to be my taste.

I cannot find this music on the Internet.

Curiously there are no albums on the Internet that do not pre-date 1999. [ his voice gets smaller, like a mutter to the side. ] I have not yet run out of Depeche Mode albums, so this entire feat seems irrelevant. My music is satisfactory, however–

I require your recommendations, for the sake of curiosity. [ he mumbles something again, though it is in French and off-record. ]–but apparently it must be from the nineties.

[ EVERYTHING IS DUMB!! azrael just huffs and hangs up, then. ]

[ Wanda is in her usual red, though the clothes are slightly more low-key than her usual superhero fare.  If a girl can't use her reality warping powers to update her wardrobe, what is the point of even having powers?]

Ah, I suppose I should start with a welcome to all the new comers, but that seems a bit disingenuous.  My name is Wanda Maximoff, though I am known as the Scarlet Witch in my world.

[And that is, perhaps, a test.  Seeing if there was perhaps someone from her world out there who she hadn't seen on the network yet.]

Since it seems we're in the middle of a lull, I thought I might follow up on an idea Collette had.  I'm not entierly keen on going back underground after spending entierly too much time down there already, but perhaps there is something to find down there.  Something that may be more worthwhile than questionable teen fiction.

It'll be something else to do aside from waiting for the next disaster or mad time traveling expedition, at the very least.

[the video catches Peter wiping a small trail of blood that escaped his nose. He's breathing a little heavily]

Okay, fine. So I really am trapped here. Fine. If this place really does want to train me to fight, I'm game.

[Looking annoyed and more than a little irritated, Claire’s pacing in her room with her communicator, the video focused on her face from a lower angle.] Usually when you’re drafted to fight a war, it’s at least in the right century.

Look. I need to get back home. I know that everyone's probably saying the same thing. But the entire world was about to change, and I'm needed there. You can't just take people against their will like this. I don't care about your war, I need to be fighting my own.

[A sigh. She lifts the camera for a clearer view of her face.] In the meantime, I guess I should say.. My name is Claire Bennet. And I guess while I'm here I could use a little training.


[Action, Open!]

( Insert clever line or cool lyrics here. )

_{( This feed should probably open with a trumpeted fanfare, but, alas, it does not. Instead, it shows two women standing side-by-side, looking down at the device that the younger one—Crystal—is holding. Her face is half-amused, half-annoyed. Beside her is a slightly taller woman who is unmistakably related to her—Medusa. She just looks regal. Also probably annoyed. After a moment, Crystal starts talking. )}

I was brought here with a friend of mine, but he seems to have wandered off. I’m not worried—he does that a lot of the time, and it’s hard to keep him in one place. But if you do see a large dog approaching you, don’t worry. Lockjaw is quite tame. He does have a way of going from one place to the next very quickly, though, so if you don’t want to be taken along you shouldn’t get too close—

_{( She motions as though to continue, but Medusa gestures for the tablet and Crystal hands it over. )}

Lockjaw is the least of our worries. _{( GOSH CRYSTAL. Medusa has a lot of hair, and it moves ominously as she speaks. )} I am Queen Medusalith of the Inhumans and the Kree - my sister is Princess Crystalia. If there exists some form of authority here I demand an audience to arrange transport home. We cannot linger here, not when there are more important matters in our own universe.

_{( THAT'S RIGHT EARTH, YOU ARE SO COMPLETELY NOT IMPORTANT NO ONE CARES. )}

Sister. _{( There’s not warning in that so much as exasperation; haven’t we talked about this, Medusa? Some of us want to help, here. But she sighs, and as she does a small gust of wind fluffs her hair around her face. This is clearly not a conversation she’s going to have in public. )}

If you do encounter Lockjaw, please let us know. We will come fetch him from you.

_{( With that, the message cuts. Orange is Crystal, Red is Medusa. If you'd like to have you character encounter a giant, teleporting bulldog, feel free! That is also an option here. )}

[ This post is anonymous, coming from a tablet with no name attached. There's wind in the background. Whoever's talking is up somewhere high. ]

These tablets are nice, but not nearly as advanced as I'd guess for the future. Which makes me think illusion, though you all seem very adamant on it definitely not being an illusion.

Not the point. Though if this is someone fucking with my head, they can consider this their only warning. [ A moment, as if she's either letting that sink in or waiting to see if anything happens as a result. ]

I have a few questions left over from that very thorough welcome speech. How do I buy alcohol on this island? How easy is it to travel outside of this city? And approximately how many more times can I expect to be attacked by mutant bears?


[ maybe half an hour later another post appears! this one is basically a mass of encryptions, point of origin blocked. Anyone who tries to hack through it will find themselves in what feels like a rabbit trail, but with some effort put in it will lead to a two way encrypted channel, with one message already there. Anyone with some knowledge of hacking who puts effort into it can find this message because the code is designed to lead them there. (Very experienced people might notice this.) ]

Thanks for playing.

[ Looking further into where the message comes from will come to Max's attention immediately, and she will certainly try to stop anyone figuring out what tablet it comes from, though depending on skill levels involved she may not be successful. Essentially, she's getting a feel for the other hackers in this place. ]

I'd planned on makin' this announcement after the whole monster attack bullshit was ower an' done with but with all these folks blabberin' on about formin' alliances I ain't takin' chances an' losin' out on the potentially interested to 'em.

[HE'S LOOKING AT YOU SYLVANAS but he's also pretty sure some others had mentioned doing something similar, the open network post about it just spurred him on to finally do something.]

Any a' you here a while should know who I am; for those a' you who don't, it's Eridan Ampora. Alternian royalty an' Prince a' Hope. Fact a' the matter is I been here about eight months now an' the initiatiwe's done nothin' to prowe to me they're worth trustin'.

We got barely anythin' to go on most of the time an' almost ewery bout a' time trawelin' nonsense leads to more problems an' at this stage I'm sick of it. Got no more patience for these guys doin' the remotely competent an' straightenin' up anytime soon.

So I'm proposin' my own alliance with the shared goal of takin' charge. We'll finish this war ourselwes once we'we owerthrown the fuckups who think they're leadin' this sham of a union an' then whatewer you wanna do afterwards, go for it. I don't giwe a' fuck what your own goals are once we're done playin' nice an' pretendin' as if any of us actually like each other.

For the record, anyone who don't wanna join us is fine; but we'll control the machine that sends you home an' you'll either do as we say once we do, or you can rot here forewer. Your mowe.

[Sure is a thirteen year old kid trying to lead a potential rebellion. Laugh at him, take him seriously, your choice really.]

[Loki is slouched against a rock, with a bright cloth in his lap. He seems to be getting the hang of the communicator, because at least this time it looks like the video feed is on purpose.]

When last I spoke on this device, it was in great anger. So blinded was I by my rage that I could neither see nor think clearly.

And for this I....

[There is a long pause.]

...apologize...

I was stolen from my home while my people were on the brink of a great disaster. I could not bear being taken here against my will.

But my quarrel lies not with any of you, and 'twas wrong for me to lash out as I did.

Still, I think it is best I took my leave of the Hold. I do not belong there.

[He reaches up and touches his shoulder, as if nursing a wound. It's a calculated movement on his part.]

If I only I could...ah...

[He looks up, green eyes sliding across the sky as an expression of genuine fear and bewilderment clouds his features and he clutches the cloth against his breast like a security blanket]

Ah...oh.

Uh oh....