[Looks like you're back to having young Mr. D'Amico back amongst your ranks. Aren't you glad? he looks very distraught, and it's clear when he's talking that he's having trouble forming his thoughts.]

What the fuck even happened? I-- How was it that I was here from the future but... I remember it! I fucking remember everything, I remember the things I said! How does that even work? How is that possible? I-- [He quickly rubs face with a hand, trying to regain composure.] I didn't wanna know how fucked I was gonna be ahead of time. Goddamn you Initiative fuckheads.

[The video snaps off quickly after this. Housemates will find him storming out of the house quickly. Guess where he's heading! Yep, to a bar. But he won't be having a good time or stirring up trouble like usual. He'll be sitting alone on a stool, several empty glasses on the bar in front of him, looking unusually gloomy. Care to approach?]

[Video, public.]

[Gordon looks like hell. Drawn and sleepless, A large bruise on his forehead across the browbone, several scrapes, cuts and bruises on his face and neck, glasses scratched... He stares into the camera awkwardly, with bustle in the Labs behind him.]

No doubt you've seen the large anomalous mass in the middle of the city. I believe we know exactly what it is now.

It's a creature by the name of Zagreus. It's a conscious collective of timelines that had been unnaturally stopped from manifesting the way they should. The resultant energy has gained a name and a mind... of a fashion, but not a form. Yet. It's not alive in the conventional sense, but it does have a goal: to eradicate every timeline it comes into contact with, including ours. It had been dormant in the Doctor's subconscious until now; god only knows how it got out, but now it's free, and gestating inside that temporal knot in the center of town. Feeding off all the chaos of the age-scrambling while the Timeknot dilation field ages and turns to ash anything that gets immersed in it.

We've got to get in there and destroy Zagreus before it reaches full maturity. Thanks to the Doctor's schematics we at the Labs have created a handful of personal temporal stability devices that will enable us to get into the Tineknot unharmed. What we need now, are people who are willing to use them. We should have enough devices for anyone who wants to go in, anyone who wants to fight, but let me know here so that I can be sure of it.

Tomorrow morning we'll meet there. I plan on going in as well. It wouldn't be the first time I did something like this... But I get the feeling that even in its larval stage, Zagreus is going to take all our firepower to take down.

[Video, private to Morrigan]

[He knows she heard him, that he intends to throw himself into that portal to god-knows-where. He hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to her. Therefore:]

I think I owe you an explanation.

((EDIT: Log post is HERE! CHARGE!))

[A dark haired man appears on the wire, with thick, curly brown hair and a hat perched atop his head. He's a bit muzzy-eyed and fuzzy faced. For those who know Swann, they might see some resemblance to his elder self, down to the Scottish accent.]

Oi, Initiative blokes! I've a message for ya, 'tis of great importance! It's from the Doctor!

[He's not yelling, but it's close. Might want to turn down your volume a bit for this one.]



[ooc: for those following The Doctor and his adventures, check back to these three posts. This one is spawned from the last post.]

[It's sometime after the crashing and howling and screaming from Ionae's apartment. People are maybe settling back in or trying to figure out what's going on or hiding in absolute terror, but they can't miss what happens next.]


[The entire Network crackles with a horrific energy, every tablet emits a terrifying shrieking and pounding and cracking sound, flashes painfully with a blinding, crackling blue-white light, and then promptly shuts down. When the connexion to the Network comes back, albeit grudgingly, each screen bears a blargle of normal letters and Gallifreyan text, which vanishes as soon as the user touches it, returning the screen to normal.]

[After dealing with the uncertainty of being parent (or future parent, rather) and being taken care of by his son more than should be allowed, Kratos has finally decided to ask for help. Anonymously.]

What does being a father entail? Or rather, what sort of things do fathers do with their children and what responsibilities are expected of a father? Conversely, what activities do children enjoy doing with their fathers?

Squalling children and grunting savages--this place is overrun with children and savages. Is this how this Initiative plans to fight a Time War?

[But... wait. Isn't that the Doctor? It certainly looks like him...sort of. Yet his eyes are literally glowing with a crackling, blue-white light and his voice sounds... staticky. And the expression on his face is very unlike the Doctor--cruel and twisted. Behind him is a random street, various people standing about and gawking.]

Well, not to worry. [His voice takes on a mocking tone.] I, Zagreus, will set this place right. No children, no savages, no would-be-gods, no high-and-mighty pacifists are needed, now. This place, this... Exsilium will be whittled down, bit by bit, until only those worthy of a Time War remain. Observe!

[With that, he grabs a random witness, a teenaged boy. His eyes flare, blindingly bright. The boy manages a yelp before vanishing completely. The crowd panic, fleeing.]

[Somewhere during the stampede the light in the Doctor's eyes gutters and flickers out and he moans, dropping to his knees. The netbook clatters to the ground next to him but still shows him at the right side of the screen, groaning and clutching his head. When he speaks, his voice is normal again.]

No, no no no no no no... not now, not here.... [His gaze flickers to the netbook and he scrabbles for it.] Help me, someone, please... It's trying to break free.... Zagreus is... I can't contain it much longer.... Help me....

(( OOC info lives here. ))

Hey, I appreciate the tour and the free knockoff iPad, but can we not with the kidnapping thing? No matter how much that lady smiled her creepy smile and they gave us free grub, it's still kidnapping. Just really polite kidnapping. Some of us have had a rough day at work and all we want to do is go home, sit in the tub with a bottle of wine, and a terrible book, not go off and fight in somebody else's fight.

[She stares at the screen with a certain amount of intensity, like she's going to force somebody to send her back home. This lasts all about five seconds. Way to go, Ange. Everybody now knows you're a stone cold badass]

Yeah, that's not going to work, is it? Fine. I hope you know I'm friends with an FBI agent. He's not going to go easy on you.

[Because thinly veiled threats work so much better?]

( the video feed clicks on to display a very clear shot of the gigantic kogarasumaru team emblem carefully drawn across one of the walls in his room. you know because fuck the opinions of his roommates, he's a god and gods do what they want.

it's accompanied by one hand smacking hard against the emblem on the wall before ikki comes stepping into view. as soon as he's fully on camera, his hand closes into a fist, pointer finger jutted outward and it's aimed right at whatever audience he's got watching this. )

Listen up, listen up all you wretched fools! This is a public service announcement! If you'll check out the wall behind me, you'll see a majestic looking emblem! That's mine! It belongs to me and me alone! It's the great mark of Kogarasumaru! If you encounter anyone wearing this, they belong to me! Same damn rule for places and objects too!

Everything bearing this grand mark belongs to the great and awesome Sky King! THE ONE AND ONLY MINAMI IKKI!

( there's a pause then, followed by a quiet sigh. )

But if you catch one of my worthless underlings running around lost, report 'em back to me and I'll reward you handsomely—

( he taps a finger against his chin, almost pondering. )

—Depending on which one it is. I won't pay you for the beanpole in a hat or the little fatass.

[video]

[It's that Doctor fellow again. The floofy one. He looks a little worse for wear. And he's soaked to the skin.]

Oh. I'm back here, again. Back in the cold and the rain. [coughs] Still, I suppose I still have things to do if I'm here again. What've I missed?

[Private, to Swann]

Hullo, Swann. D'you, by any chance, know where my TARDIS is?

[action]

[The door to unit 605 admits a soggy Englishman.]

Now I know why I carried an umbrella so much in my previous life....

➔ INITIATIVE ANNOUNCEMENT

[ Throughout Exsilium, all of the communicators will beep several times before the video feed activates to show a stern woman. A purple Initiative banner hangs behind her. ]

Good evening, Transports. My name is Mera Vestus. I am a member of the Initiative Consulate. Jointly, we head the Initiative. I have elected to speak on behalf of the Consulate today, and hope to address some of your concerns.

I would like to begin by apologizing for our lack of communication with the Transport population. Organizing our endeavours is no simple task, and has occupied the entirety of our attentions. That is no excuse. We have brought you here, and it is our obligation to be as forthcoming as possible with you. From this moment on, we wish to seek out a greater degree of transparency with the Transport population as a whole. No Transport should be afraid to voice his or her concerns, nor should they feel that they are falling upon deaf ears.

I also wish to apologize once more for interrupting your lives by bringing you here. If there were any other option, we would not have resorted to such measures. As it stands, you are the last hope not only for our world, but for many.

As some of you have already been made aware, it is not merely the fate of this universe that is at stake in our ongoing struggle against the United Earth. Many of this world's natural resources have been depleted, with only stockpiles remaining for the United Earth to rely upon. These stockpiles are running low. They have been forced to resort to extreme measures. They have begun to utilize their own version of the transporter technology to drain resources from other worlds in hope of supporting their own regime. One by one, they are leaving other worlds as barren as this one. Each of your homes is a likely target. The United Earth is indiscriminate with their targets, and consumes without temperance or remorse.

We wish that it had not come to this. We wish that we could send those of you home who do not desire anything to do with our ongoing battle. But this is unfortunately beyond our control. We cannot control who the transporter selects, or when it chooses to send individuals back to their own worlds. We will do anything in our power to make your stay here as comfortable as possible in gratitude for your cooperation.

I will now be receiving questions. I will answer to the best of my ability, and look forward to engaging in civil conversation with all of you.

[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?

[GODS how do you use this thing? Hiccup will be pushing buttons and every now and then there's a short 'Wow', or 'Well that didn't work.' or... various other mildly frustrated phrases and then finally.]

Okay... so I push this and... tilt it like. Oh! Hey, I think it's working. If that... green light thing means what I think it means.

Okay! So. ... Everyone. I guess. [Man, how's he going to put this? He'll speak slowly, it's obvious he's double thinking this. Enjoy the elaborate hand gestures as he tries to describe his sentences.]

I haaave a question for you.

[More hesitation and some minor background noise since no one responds right away.]

I guess I should just come out and say it then, huh?

Right um. So how does everyone feel aboooouuut dragons?

Not that. You know, it's a big deal or something to be worried about or anything. Just... a general question of curiosity. Right. [Not suspicious, nope. NOPE.]

I'll just... hope somebody actually heard that.

[ who is ready for a nice, big helping of complaining? i hope you are, exsilium, because shadow has plenty of it go to around!!! ]

The network seems to be mainly full of jesting and levity. I awaken to seek new information, yet all I come to find are drunkard jokes, obvious attempts at mind control veiled by a need for 'help', needless stammering over the new technology, etcetera.

[ yep spelling out etc. instead of abbreviating it. that so makes him edgier than all of you! clearly! ]

You are all fools, treating this situation lightly. If you are as hellbent on leaving as per the usual transport tendencies, you will stop at nothing until you are freed. Instead, you bumble about without a care, as if playing and chortling will get you somewhere.

I will give you all a vital hint. Heed my words:

It won't.

[ golly. who peed in his frosted flakes this morning? ]

Can I ask someone some questions about human parents? Like if you have them, or if you are one!

[ With the way Feferi has her face all up in the camera, you would think she had never used technology before. But no, she's just very exuberant, more so than usual. ]

Oh yeah, and that's not the only thing I wanted to say! So who remembers that we were working on a guide for new people? Well, it's finally ready!

[ Link Attached: A Newbie's Guide to Exsilium ]

But before I print it out, I want everyone to see it. What do you all think? And some people can be relieved that there are only plain, boring fonts, thanks to the all the help I got! If anyone else has anything to add, tell me! Also, it would be great if some people would volunteer as contacts for the new people. You know, like an on-call question answerer!

( ooc notes )

[The sound of guitar song drifts over the wireless, a lovely sound. It's a bit different for everyone, and whoever can here it likely finds themselves warming up to it. It's a wee, bright song, and maybe even the most grouchy will find themselves smiling, even if for a moment. Good memories override the horrible, recent events, and hatred sizzles and goes out, only smoke for the wind. It's temporary, as long as the player plays, but maybe it'll stick around for some. Gods know, people need it right now.

[The music seems to fade, quieter and low in the background. Humming accompanies it for a moment, then the voice speaks. Remember that odd Scottish bloke? No? Ah, well.]

I still dinnae know why they brought me here. The Initiative, or whatever it's called.

[He's not angry. Swann's voice is as pleasing as the music, a rich, deep song in itself that rolls over the listener.]

I remember the Great War, and coming close to nearly being blown to hell and back. We kept our distance from the cities at first, but it was hellish for people. They might of lost their home, their beau, a child or perhaps all of them. Maybe they saw friends leave and never came back. I dinnae. We werenae soldiers, though a handful of the young men went to join up. Maybe I should'ave as well.

So, we took our wee carnival and without talking about it much at all, we started visiting the outskirts of cities. Never entered 'em proper, then or now. Local constabulary didnae like us much. But we gave the people something to focus on other than such things. Cannae say it was out of the kindness of our hearts, not all of it. Ye have ta live, and it's what we knew.

[He goes silent for a moment, letting his fingers speak.]

Maybe that's why I'm here, aye? Either that or I'm paying for not puttin my neck on the line all those years ago. No matter--I'm here now and that's all what matters.

Tell me what's botherin' ya, if you like. I'm nae a bad listener. And if that's not to yer liking, ask for a song. I know a few.



Right! Swann's music affects people as he wishes, and right now it's a soothing, perhaps even joyful, something to take the edge off of what has happened. It will last as long as he continues to play. Permissions, and please please please do not hesitate to ask questions.


ALSO--some threads I will be slow on answering. I'd like to link to music, but I found the sites are blocked here at work, so answers won't be until tonight. :(

[Despite recent events Eiki seems perfectly at home, she's not stressed, or particularly worried. It was almost as if everything going on simply did not affect her.]

In light of recent tragedy, I became curious about some things. There is a lot of diversity here, with people from all over, from worlds so different it would be hard to imagine, and I assume rules and universal laws that are also different. So considering this, I would like to know about the afterlife of other worlds. I understand it is rare for those living to know the system for the dead, but even if all you know is mythology and legend I would still like to hear it. In exchange I will share everything I can of my world.

[ charles is visibly distressed when he appears on the screen, this time. he's in what seems to be some underground facility, and there are other faces behind him—notably collette, emma, galadriel, raven, and others. his eyes remain closed for a second and you can hear him take a deep breath. then: ]

We have... borrowed a gentleman by the name of Richard Lawson...—from the United Earth. He is a cabinet member of the President's. Yes, the President of the United Earth. [ charles clears his throat, steels himself. ]

We've learnt a great many things about the United Earth from his head, and we feel it best to share that information with all of you, here on the Network.

[ charles states the next words with a heavy voice. ]

The President of the United Earth is not human. "He" is—artificial. Artificial Intelligence, or what you would call an A.I.. The United Earth... has never seen his face, as far as we have deduced.

We will try to answer questions about what we have learnt to the very best of our ability, but do be patient. Ah—[ he closes his eyes again, considering. then he nods as though he's made the right decision and he knows it. ]

That is all.

( note: wow i knew i forgot something like a winner. THIS TAKES PLACE DURING/AFTER these linked shenanigans: [ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ] )

I had thought that the answer was clear, but considering what we were recently put through...

I'm having difficulty deciding which one I find more insufferable between The Initiative and the United Earth.

Perhaps some of you would like to share your thoughts on the matter?

[For anyone that happens to be looking at the network when it comes back online, they will find not a familiar face (at least not for most). The will find a very large man, clad in battleworn dreadplate, made of a metal only a few would recognize, particularly if they've consorted with Koltira Deathweaver in any fashion. His hair is ghost white an wispy, face skeletal and skin pale.

The most striking feature is his glowing blue eyes, just a hint of stark green behind them, which is most noticeable when he turns his gaze to the camera, large gloved hand still reaching for the communicator, as if he just finished how to figure it out. Briefly, his expression narrows and he shifts to one knee, which allows the view of Frostmourne in his other hand beside him. He then looks up as there is noise of someone approaching offscreen. A devilish, predatory smirk replaces the previous grim expression for a moment before he looks back down at the screen, the expression smoothing to something almost friendly.]

Rumor has it you're all just dying for a breath of fresh air. I have ways of fixing that.

[At first it appears the screen is simply black, but no, it's just an EXTREME CLOSEUP of black fur. Followed by an equally EXTREME close up of an eye.]

HELLO? HELLO PEOPLE IN THE MACHINE. [The eyeball is speaking very. Very. Slowly. And loudly.]

I AM THE DRAGON WARRIOR. MY NAME IS PO. PLEASE DO NOT BE ALARMED. I MEAN YOU NO HARM. I AM A MASTER OF KUNG FU AND I AM HERE TO SAVE YOU. ALSO, I AM A PANDA. WE DO NOT EAT...uh...oh what were they called aga--Oh! Right!HEE-YOU-MANS. WE EAT BAMBOO. AND ALSO NOODLES. AND OOH! OOH! ALMOND COOKIES. Man I could really go for some of Monkey’s almond cookies right no--Uh, wait, I mean DO NOT BE ALARMED.

[Pause.]

I SAID THAT ALREADY. BUT THAT'S OKAY. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU NOT BE ALARMED BECAUSE I AM A HERO.

[Pause.]

I AM ALSO A MASTER OF KUNG FU. I SAID THAT ALREADY ALSO. Oh man just shut up Po you’re blowing this. Uh...

YOU MAY SPEAK NOW!

[There's a blur of black and white as the eyeball turns into a...is that an ear canal? Is he putting his ear against the camera? ...Yes. Yes he is.]

[Huh. If this didn't feel like home, he didn't know what would.

Off to the side of everyone else, and for the most part minding his own business, would be a particular armored soldier lounging with his feet propped up on a piece of rubble. A position that likely wouldn't be very comfortable to those who weren't wearing armor, considering he was sitting on a very debris-ridden spot and leaning back against some of the rocks like it was some sort of make-shift chair.

And though he appeared physically exhausted, the rush of data flying across both his netbook - and most likely his visor's - screen showed that the Rookie wasn't taking the time to relax completely just yet.]

Well, the people here wanted a war, so I guess we've got one. [For those listening over the netbook, there's a large amount of static, and the video makes a point to flicker and pixelate before the Rookie casually raps the screen with his knuckle. Mostly out of the whole 'if technology doesn't work, hit it' habit. Not that it did much to solve it.] But at least we didn't come out of this completely empty handed, if those videos involving the Masked soldiers are of any use to us.

[There's a slight pause then, before he's propping his arms up behind his head and adding in a little more quieter. Though his next couple of words might be a little hard to make out over the network, with the occasional pops of static appearing over the feed.]

Suppose the real question now is, how ready are we?

[The video is...poor...to say the least. There is clearly a man, oddly dressed and wearing horns. His eyes are blazing green with anger and he is covered in dust and ash. He doesn't seem used to handling something like the communicator and he's not helped by the occasional burst of static.]

Who, precisely, are these people that dare steal me away from my chambers!? Should I get my hands on the one responsible, I shall strangle.

My people are in dire need of me at this moment and I will not tolerate being herded about like cattle while some nebulous foe strikes me with fire from the sky.

[He hooks a finger at the screen, tipped with a well manicured black nail]

Step you forth, you have called upon a god from the frozen north and he has answered. Pray your answer is to my liking or consider your life forfeit…

[In an angry sarcastic tone]

And here I thought I was done trying to go about my business while being inconvenienced by bombs. 

Damn you Korea, and damn you Initiative.

I'm heading to the clinic. So, there will be at least one surgeon if needed.

[This is a very worried-looking Doctor on the screen. He's in what appears to be a normal apartment bedroom.]

Everyone--I don't know if there'll be any more of this bombing but I've a nasty suspicion that there will be. Ordinarily I wouldn't do this but I've no idea how many people can get to the shelters in time, so--

[He picks up the netbook and turns so that now it's looking at... a Police Box. In the corner of the bedroom, right next to the bed.]

This is my ship--the TARDIS. It's dimensionally transcendent, as you can see...

[Now he walks in the open door of said Police Box and HOLY SHIT THERE'S THAT OTHER BACKGROUND. You know, the background with the vast room full of Victoriana and Wellsian tech and whatnot.]

It's safe from any physical attack, so if you don't feel as though you can make it to the shelters, it's here in apartment 509.

[Video]

[Sonic's cheerful as usual, and lounging on a chair as he speaks into the camera, one purple-lined sneaker crossed into view over his knee.]

Hey guys! Remember when I said I was gonna check with the Initiative to see if they were interested in fixing up the environment retroactively n' stuff? Well guess what? They like the idea! Now all I need are some volunteers! They're lookin' for a pretty wide pool of abilities, so don't be shy! I know some of you wanna see real animals here again, and not just ones too cool to be classified like me. [He jerks a thumb at himself.]

((This is a more official sign-up thread for green-themed missions. I'll post the log requests for anyone that's interested in a team mission over the weekend.

EDIT: Mission request post is here!))

Welcome to Exsilium. There is much to discuss.

[recognize those words in that voice? Simmaeri's kind of an A+ mimic. she get your attention with that one? she likes to think so. we'll find out anyway.]

Discuss is to make understand, yes? [as far as she knows. the raised eyebrows seem to imply a need for confirmation. no rhetorical questions here!] I want a discuss. You help. There is much words to discuss.

[she leans forward a little, lifting her hands from her lap.] You speak words for you. Words for...[fingers settle near her collarbone; her eyebrows knit. she takes on a pained tone.] Why. I see...[her hand lifts, tracing from her temple down to her jaw, wearing a hurt expression.] No good face. I hear no good words. Much, no good.

[the next words she says are untranslatable, but laced with the desire to be understood:]

What causes you unhappiness here?


[OH RIGHT THE VOLUNTARY ACTION:

because where is this girl broadcasting from?

one of the stairwells at the apartment building, between the first and second floor. why not? who stays in their rooms, anyway?

feel free to not like. step on her computer on your way up/down the stairs.]

[...and the Doctor looks terrible. He's slumped in an easy chair, staring woozily at the screen and blinking dizzily. When he speaks it's a weary mumble.]

Someone really needs to talk with this Initiative about their vortex hardware.... [squint] What's the date right now? My timesense is... scrambled.

Also, does anyone know where I could get some decent tea...?

( When Charles appears on the video screen, he looks happier than ever. Well, happier than... is standard practise, for this place, and especially given his recent interpersonal shenanigans. Still, he's smiling. )

Hello, everyone. I've rather a large request—I will understand if the need does not suit you—but I do hope that you'll hear me out.

I would like to establish a school, here in Exsilium. It would be for everyone, of all ages. I've received permission, and salary funding, from the Initiative, to gather both teachers and students to... ah, well. ( Charles' expression shifts to an apologetic one. ) To help me refurbish this building and make it a proper educational institution.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will let you all know that I've acquired an old building. It's not in the best of shape, and will need to be fixed up—that is where you come in. Soon, I will need teachers; students, too. But for now—for now, all I need is some volunteers to turn this place into a functional establishment.

( Charles presses a button on his netbook, and this picture appears. )

Your help would be incredibly appreciated.

Thank you very much.

[video]

I dinnae what a 'netbook' is. The wee woman wasnae very helpful ...

[There are sounds of movement from the netbook, but the picture is dark. It takes a moment or two of rustling around before something comes into view. It's blurred from quick movement, and then an eye appears, filling the screen. It's brown.]

What are ye, now? [The voice is male with a Scottish accent. The picture pulls back to show a man's face; wild dark blonde hair with grey at the temples, a mustache and soul patch that's serving for a beard, and a scowl that conveys a great deal of attention paid to the netbook.]

Magical box. With voices! Well, bugger me. At least it's got a wee typewriter attached.

[tap tap tap on the screen]

'allo, people in the box! What're ye doin' in there?



((ooc: heading to bed, will respond in the morning!)) Back!