[Someone looks totally wrecked] Has anyone seen Al - has anyone seen Shepard? Or - or Tali. [Rubbing a hand over his face] They've been missing too long now. I know - I know there are a lot of newcomers here, so if anyone's see a tall female soldier, brown hair, probably in armour, could you let me know? Uh, please? I'm also looking for a female Quarian - alien, that is. She wears a full body suit with a helmet, purple accents, never takes it off.

If anyone has information and could let me know, that would be fantastic. Thank you.

[ The feed turns on. Leliana looks closely at the notebook and waves her hand in front of the video feed. It mirrors her movements. There are other people in other windows and they are all watching her! She wonders if this is what the other side of the mirror feels like. ]

This… communication device is so interesting! Is it some sort of, um, ancient magic? I don’t know much about those, I am afraid, but it is certainly useful, no?

This place is really grand. I don’t think I have ever been anywhere like here. Not in Ferelden. Not in Orlais. Not in Orzammar. I am sure these walls and windows have a lot of stories to tell, and these grand spaces have a lot of adventure to uncover. [She giggles.] I am going to find out, soon enough.

I still can’t believe I’m here! I can’t tell if I’m dead or if I’m dreaming. I hope nobody pinches me awake soon, at least.

Oh. But I have certainly babbled enough, I think. I am Leliana! It’s a pleasure to meet all of you!

[ ooc: psst, mods, it's Leliana not Lelania in the tags. :D ]

I have not been in this time for very long but I've been feeling out of place these past few weeks, not simply because of my surroundings but because of the technology here. I'm curious of the more advanced weaponry that people use now. More importantly, that there are so many who know how to use them with relative ease.

[As a commander, it makes her feel disadvantaged, especially since most of these weapons are so much more powerful than a simple sword and shield.]

If anyone would be willing, I would like to learn how to use these weapons or, better yet, to be able to defend myself from them. Should one of these missions send me to a time after my own, I'd be in quite a bit of trouble. [She smiles.] I can't offer anything in return but my gratitude, though I can teach you swordplay, if you would like. Or, if you would prefer, I know how to make traps and poultices.

[Her smile turns into a full-fledged smirk.]

And for those who are ambitious, I could show you how to steal valuables off of a passerby without them ever noticing they're missing their purse.

[Once a rogue, always a rogue. Sorry, kids.]


( Filter to the Grey Wardens )

Fuck you, you Initiative bastards.

Do you honestly think that just saying 'sorry, someone hit the wrong button' is really going to cut it? You messed with our heads. Do you know what else messes with peoples' minds like you just did? Demons do. So care to explain to us how you may just differ? Because I see nothing in your defense.

[And the feed cuts....


for about ten minutes so she can stop yelling. She's still irked though, but let's try and keep this part civil.]

Is everyone else all right?



[OOC: If anyone is offended by the language, please tell me and I'll put the first bit under a cut. /o/]

[LMAO GUESS WHO LOOKS REALLY PUT-OFF.

SPOILERS: it's anora. in fact her hair is done up in a really sharp bun to help accentuate how angry she is.]

It was certainly nice seeing people attempt to kill my father again. As though having it only happen once in my lifetime was simply not enough. And to include Cailan in all of this...well-- [she cuts herself off]

I may be echoing a few others who have voiced their complaints after our little training session, but nevertheless...what were we to gain from this? Unless this was an attempt to let us know that in the future our enemies lie amongst those we once knew and...trusted, it would have been more beneficial to just pit ourselves against each other in training.

[she reaches at a gold necklace around her neck, still angrily musing about what went down these past few days.]

And lest you forget not all of us have weapons suited for combat.

[If you're used to seeing Finnick around the city, then you'll have noticed he hasn't been around for the past couple of days. In the background, there's definitely some nature going on, complete with a lake. He runs his fingers through his wet hair, looking... ruffled, irritated.]

I'm going to be staying out here for a few more days. [A beat.] Just curious, though. Is there anything else any of you would like to tell me, or do I have all the facts from the future now? [He's talking to Katniss and Johanna mainly, but feel free to be confused by that.]

Now if you'll excuse me, I have dinner to catch. [A grin slides across his face as he picks up his trident.]

[The screen is black for a long moment, though the speakers seem to be working, passing along the soothing and lovely sound of someone banging their finger against a spot too near the microphone. Finally, though, the camera blooms to life, and give those watching a great look at the massive brown eye being shoved right up against the camera. A young woman’s voice is again too close to the mic]

Honestly, whoever enchanted this thing is a master artist. I can’t even detect a hint of magic around it, and yet it seems to be working just fine. I’m not sure why they made it look like a flat brick and not a proper crystal ball or mirror is beyond me.

[She sighs, pulling back slightly to reveal a young woman with slightly pointed ears and exotic features who looks anywhere between 15 and 23]

Oh wait, right, that would require someone to become a powerful archmage without going so utterly mad that they start running around creating whatever pops into their heads. [She holds it back further and shakes her head.] At least it isn’t an owlbear.

So, am I to take it there are those out there who can hear me?

So my gun, it's supposed to just…get stronger right? [ Hello network, here's a face you haven't seen in a while. Dean's been trying to learn what this place is all about, but today finds him in the training hall with his beloved .45 caliber Colt. He's shaking the damn thing like its offended him somehow. ] Maybe mine is broken…

[ Hm. Tucking it away, he has another thing to ask. ]

Also, a year on freakin' paradise beach land has left me feelin' all sorts of rusty. Anyone up for a little rough-n-tumble? [ Meaning sparring. But take it as you want, especially since the look he's giving the device speaks of entirely different sort of fun. ] Y'know, of the physical sort.

[ The feed opens with a few of the street, garbled as the netbook is swung to and fro, being held clutched in Arthur’s hand at his side as he walks. ]

Of all the people who could have possibly been sent with me, the whole of the population of Camelot, it had to be you, Merlin. What of my knights? Palace guards? The blacksmith? A toddler with a pointed stick, honestly, any of them would have been more helpful.

...Merlin? [ The jumbled feed stills and with a sharp turn, the manservant in question can be seen a few feet back, bogged down with a sword and shield and a few pieces of armor. ] Merlin, you're slacking already and we've barely made ten paces from the building. I realize it must be terribly taxing to hold concentration long enough to place one foot in front of the other but do try to keep up?

[ Bogged down indeed, he can barely see over the supplies he's carrying!

A pair of blue eyes and messy black hair peek over the edge of Arthur's shield as he strains his neck to see where he's going. Those of you paying close attention may notice a rather ornate looking "walking stick" among Arthur's personal effects. ]

Clearly they wanted someone from Camelot with a bit of sense. [ The boy quips, eyes crinkling in amusement despite being appointed as baggage boy for his Royal Highness. Seriously, snarking back and forth is the only enjoyment he receives out of this situation and he needs to get his laughs somehow. ]

It’s just-You could help carry at least some of this, you know? They are your things and they aren’t exactly light.

Oh? And who is it that’s supposed to be? Your blasted useless pole? Whatever good that’s supposed to do but give you more of an excuse to rest your lazy backside… [ The netbook’s carrier turns back sharply, continuing to meander on forward at a pace that’s not exactly generous in waiting for the overburdened young man behind him. ]

Merlin, you’re doing that thing again where your mouth flaps and sounds come out and all the noise sounds a terrible lot like complaining. [ There’s an eyeroll that can practically be heard in his voice ] Honestly, you know, most consider a chance to serve their Prince to be a great honor.

Fine, mostly yours. [ He corrects himself, only half heartedly trying to keep up at this point. ] Though I dunno, it looks pretty sturdy, now that you mention it... [ A pause as he considers, his eyebrows shooting up as if he's had a sudden realization. ] If all those things that woman in purple said are true, you think it’ll be able to clean your armor for me?

[ That was probably pushing it, just a little. ] Yes, but they've never had to do his laundry before, have they? I didn’t think it was possible for royalty to smell so bad.

[ Once again, the Prince stops. Holds for a moment. And sloooowly turns back. ]

If your ridiculous little stick were to be capable of cleaning my armor, that would require it to suddenly sprout hands, and if your pathetic twig were to suddenly sprout hands, I would have a good mind to slay it. So for the sake of your new friend, Sir Dunce Pole, I'd certainly hope it cannot clean my armor.

And I will graciously pretend I did not hear that last remark as I'm a bit busy attempting to figure out where in the Lord’s kingdom we are and why to walk over and kick you in the backside for it.

[ He stopped! Now's the obvious time to catch up, so Merlin puts a little pep in his step. ]

It's a possibility, s'all I'm saying! And are you seriously blaming me for us being lost? You were the one leading us around- [ Hold that thought, looks like someone’s tripping over their own feet. Armor, shield, sword and staff go skidding to a halt in front of Arthur's boots while Merlin himself does a faceplant on the floor. ]

[ There's nothing but the sound of a finger slowly tapping against the side of the netbook for a long moment before the shield and pieces of armor and gently pushed aside by a booted foot and he makes his way to crouch in front of Merlin, a long suffering sigh coming from him as the netbook itself gets carefully placed on top of Merlin's head. ]

You just let me know when you're done with your nap then, don't let me stop you, we've got plenty of time, bundles, to get on with finding out what the bleeding hell we’re doing here.

[ It’s at this moment he seems to notice the red light blinking on the netbook, brow furrowing as a gloved hand reached to it ] Hang on--

[The video is focussed on a pretty ample chest right now. Snow hasn’t figured out that there’s a video function yet. From what can be seen in the background, she’s apparently walking outside] Well. This isn’t the sort of afterlife I was expecting, I have to say. Much less hell fire and eternal torment, more…bureaucracy.

[She stops walking] Never mind. I think I understand, now. [A sigh that’s meant to sound melodramatic, but is a little too shaky to be completely fake]

[Her face comes into view as she sits down. Her eyes aren’t focussed on the camera, but she has an idea that people might be able to see her if the way she tries for a smile is any indication. Much like the sigh, it’s shaky around the edges.] I was told we could use these things to communicate with others. What I wasn’t told was how, so I’m simply going to choose to believe that it’s responded to my glorious presence and is making sure you can all see my face. [She glances down, and her lips quirk up a little, amused] Amongst other things, apparently.

[A hand runs back through her hair, highlighting the odd silver strand] I suppose I should introduce myself and judge by the size of the mob that comes after me how many people are here from my world. My name is Snow White, and I’m almost entirely certain that I’m no longer possessed by a demon. If I start moaning about how much I hate the world, please; I encourage you to put me out of my misery.

[ Hello, denizens of Exsilium. Someone finally figured out how to turn their device on. Not well, mind you- but hey! Turning it on is an improvement over staring at it and losing it, right? At first, there's only blackness and a tiny sliver of changing coloured light in the top left corner. In the background, the low buzzing noise of busy chatter can be heard; voices indistinct. ] Is this thing on?

[ It takes him a few more moments to realize his thumb is covering the camera, but when he does, his smile fills the screen, an almost, but not quite smug expression upon his features. ] I spent a few days wandering around aimlessly- [ Read: Lost. ] -and I was beginning to think that maybe all the whining was justified.

[ He looks away a moment, over at something unseen. ]

But then I found this place. And you know what? It's not all bad.

[ This is followed by several very feminine giggles in the background, and Garrett chuckles lowly. He murmurs something indistinct to whomever is with him off camera, before he cuts the feed. ]

[ The camera pans onto a bored-looking, surly-sounding demon, arms crossed, grinding his teeth, disdain thick in his voice. He stands in the center of a summoning circle, its runes growing on and off, an eerie pulse. ] You defeated my Lord, yet you summon the Kyn, Septim? [ He looks around and below him, laughing maniacally. ] A ward? For me? I see you're no longer the simpering child who fancies himself a master of the arcan—

Enough! [ Not present in the recording, it is Martin's shout that silences the Dremora. ] I would've rather thrown myself at Dagon once more than summon the likes of you, daedra. [ His tone is full of regret, and self-loathing. ] But if I am to keep others safe, then I must know...

Ah, desperation, I should've known. Even then, that was the only reason why you called me. [ The Dremora smirks arrogantly, teeth rows of viciously sharp fangs. ] I see it in your eyes: you're afraid. Pathetic. Instead of embracing your nature, you gave up your life for these mortals, and you continue to live among them. Weak, doomed to death and failure and loss...

[ And then the Dremora stops, tracing the sharp edges of his sword with his fingertips, then continues in the same haughty, amused tone. ] You can't stop it. To be dragonborn is a curse and a blessing. And you, once possessed by the Dragon himself, it will be so much worse for you.

You will burn the flesh off your enemies, you will rend their bones with your jaws. And you will delight in it, for that is the nature of the Dragon's Children.

The Dragon wakes, Septim. You know this.

I pity any in your path.

[ With a final laugh of malicious glee, the Dremora disappears in a shower of purple sparks. And the transmission ends. ]

OOC: All answers will be VOICE or TEXT for most responses.

[The video feed clicks on, showing a pretty young lady wearing blue and silver armor. One might notice dark circles under her eyes, making her look as though she hasn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. She doesn't acknowledge the netbook right away, instead staring down at the staff in her lap, eyebrows knitted together in thought.

After a moment, she finally looks up, addressing the camera, and rolls her eyes irritably.]

No one ever wants a mage around, I've noticed, unless they think we can be useful for something. And it's always something. First darkspawn, and now I'm fighting a blighted war for some strangers.

I think I'd rather the war, though, so I'll play along. Speaking of which - there are other Grey Wardens here. Or perhaps I still have to deal with darkspawn, but I'm trying to stay optimistic. So, if I may ask who's out there... Stroud? Anyone else from Vigil's Keep?

[She moves to reach for the 'off' button, but freezes. It wouldn't hurt to introduce herself to everyone else here, instead of being such an angry jerk all the time, she realizes. SIGH, her life is so hard. B(]

Ah, and - my name is Bethany Hawke. If I didn't just make it completely obvious, I'm one of your newest "transports." [She bows her head politely.] A pleasure, I'm sure.