[timed after this. Because this is just.... not alright and -- ]

I can't be the only person who comes from a place, where for the most part... elves, fae, bogarts, and all such manner of creatures are something that you hit over the head with a poker before you befriend? Honestly. 

[No, she's not afraid to admit, doesn't care who reads it. They're empathy lacking monsters as far as that goes for home.]

Not that that applies to all worlds, obviously, I'm not an idiot -- and was raised with better manners mind you. But I doubt that I'm alone in this. 

[Says the governess related to Death of all things -- but that's different. Death is supposed to be a killer, and she's also fairly sure he's capable of more empathy than most people would ever imagine. He spared her father for her after all.

But she's worried, all the same. Just because their worlds are round it doesn't mean it can be that different. It was an oddly isolating feeling when the things you knew to be true were turned upside down. Again.]

[ 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 preferred the old books better. [This thing is being folded every which way, because they just had to make this thing harder to use.] At least you knew where you stood with them. The old books never changed; they might never have been easy to use, but they you knew what you were supposed to do with them.

[Is he talking about the book, still? Maybe, maybe not.] With all this talk of the Initiative and the United Earth issues, there's been something that's come up several times. Something I would be worried about, and so should others.

Traitors. Those who turned away from the goal right when their colleagues needed them most. Or the ones who never came to help in the first place, though they said they would. Traitors also includes liars. Yes. Liars. The ones who never tell the truth, especially when the truth could be the information you needed the most.

[He's getting exasperated with this new book.] I wonder, how did everyone else treat liars back home? In Ferelden, we had several ways of punishing those that had committed crimes against the crown, or those who'd lied and were caught. Some of them seemed rather harsh, but if someone who steals loses a finger, why not have the liar lose something as well? Something they value, something close to them, so that they can be hurt as much as they have hurt those around them.

So, how should we treat those liars, here? If we find traitors, what do we do with them? A mock execution, whipping, leaving them bound and gagged in a small room? Killing them would just be too merciful for what they've done, wouldn't it? [He pauses.]

Andraste's foul breath, this new book is more difficult then the other! [Okay, he's done with this book thing. With a yell, he throws it across the room.]

[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.

[ The feed flicks on suddenly to show the lovely and interesting image of a rock wall, or perhaps it is the ceiling it is hard to tell. What is easy to tell is the owner is this has no idea how to use the netbook. But hey, after twenty minutes of pressing buttons and hoping something works this is significant progress.

The feed jerks and there is a long suffering sigh. Half of a woman appears on the screen, cut off awkwardly, she fumbles it with some more and for a few minutes the feed is a mixture of blurred imagines and more of the wall.

Once it stills the woman with long dark hair can be properly seen, she looks equal parts tired and frustrated, though she tries to appear as if she is neither. ]

Hello, my name is Kahlan. [ She offers a small smile. ] I am new here and as such I do not know what exactly is happening, other than there was some sort of attack. I require information, I will be most grateful to those willing to provide it. I hold no fondness for being in the dark [ Quite literally. ] about what is happening around me.