[There is one very scowly looking blond looking at her surroundings, visible both on the network and in person outside the apartments. She mutters under her breath:] You piss off one mage...

[Clearing her throat, she tries and fails to force the scowl off her face] My name's Lena. I need to be - not here. Look, I'm grateful for the rescue, but it's a little too late. I made a deal, and I have six months - I have six months. None of which I can afford to waste here.

You people need to stop making other people fight your battles for you and learn to stand on your own two feet. It's not my job to hold your hand into a better future.

[Currently, the netbook is upside down when it's finally turned on, so there's a weird angle on the young woman's face as she leans into super close to the screen. Seriously, she spent about twenty minutes pressing buttons and commanding the mirror to turn on. Anyone paying attention to the network probably saw a lot of keysmashing and hearing her say some crap like "Mirror Mirror". :| It's pretty embarrassing.] This is a piece of junk. Is this like one of the magic mirrors I've heard about? Because it's no wonder only witches have them.

[Her cheeks puff out a bit as she moves back, and while the video is still upside down, you can make out that while the girl is pretty, her dark hair is messy and full of leaves, her clothes are slightly dirty, and she's scowling pretty intensely.] I am sick of magic. And also people holding me against my will. [The girl taps at the screen, hard.] Or people using me for their own means. [Basically? There's a long list of things that Belle is sick of.]

Send me home. I will make any deal you want, give you anything you ask for.

I really dislike this machine...


[ It's heard as he's trying to figure out how to work it, before he finally focuses the lenses. He then moves back, and takes a seat. ]

Yes, now. I have a question for all of you, and it's... rather important.

[ He then holds up a drawn image of this symbol. ]

Have any of you seen any creatures bearing this symbol? Or any black, ink-like creatures with bright, yellow eyes? I need to know if you have. Because if you haven't, it confirms my theory about this world, from everything I've learned over the last few weeks.

Laptops? Last I saw this was in a museum. Guess they're into the antiquities.

[He’ll mess with it a bit and turn it upside down so that the only thing visible is a table for a moment. Some odd scratching noises and rubbing sounds follow, the video fuzzes a bit before clearing back to him facing the camera again. His expression is pretty serious.] Doesn’t look so bad. But is it fireproof?

You never know, this thing could just combust on you when you’re asleep. Burn down the whole apartment structure and a block radius before someone even notices it. People don’t always wake up from excessive smoke inhalation. Sometimes the smoke gets to them first. But… there’s enough of us here that someone is bound to wake up before it gets out of control, right? People not comfortable living in these apartments, maybe? [Shrug, he really doesn’t seem all that bothered by this notion.]

Well, at least these laptops are free. And hey, getting paid to fight in a war? Not bad at all.

Among us transports, how many used to be involved in their world's justice system? As police, lawyers, detectives, judges, [ heroes ] and the like. Nobody's required to answer, of course, but I'd like to know. Curiosity, if you will.

[ He goes for text for once because he doesn't feel like broadcasting - it's been two weeks since the VR and if nothing else he still believes in keeping up appearances, the instinct to pick up and carry on for his goal more deeply rooted than almost anything. What goal, he's wondered so much for so long lately, but he found an answer at home and there's no reason to let go of it now. ]

Is there anything good about the Initiative?

All I've heard about is what they've done to people here, not to mention their bringing us here in the first place. [ She exhales sharply. ] And making us fight for them is horrible when they treat all of us horribly.

As for these weapons... how are they supposed to grow with us? I thought it took a lifetime of training to be able to master something like that, to have a weapon actually grow with you.

Oh, I do have rather a lot of you here to meet, don't I? It's very nearly overwhelming! Ah, but lucky for me, I'm very good at meeting a lot of new people. Many don't realize it's a skill, but it most certainly is!

Why, if each of you told me your name, I promise you I would still remember each one in a month's time. Try me, if you like!

And while you're telling me your name, perhaps you might tell me your favorite bar, as well. And preferred drink! Mm, and possibly your favorite way to pass an evening? None of it will be forgotten, I promise!

[ PRIVATE to Collette ] And don't think I haven't seen you flitting about this network! Gods, but it's a relief to see a familiar face. Where are you hiding, my dear? I've already found a quaint little restaurant I think you might enjoy.

[Normally Kaidan has seemed like a pretty easy going dude on the network, but right now he's looking implacable. His arms are folded, and he's frowning at the camera]

This is addressed to whoever shot Mystique. I don't know how things are where you are, but here? We don't shoot innocent young women for no reason. At least, not on my watch.

Things'll go easier on you if you hand yourself in now. Mystique knows what you look like - the authorities are less likely to be lenient if you make them waste the manpower to hunt you down. It's not like this place isn't an island, and I'm sure there are plenty of transports willing to lend a hand.

Alenko, out.

It looks like the indignant rage thing is pretty much covered on this one, so I'll spare you all of that.

I really just have one, big, and potentially day-ruining question.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't exactly keep a personal diary of harrowing mental experiences lying around. They have access to our memories. Good access. Access good enough that they could throw us into them without permission.

Naturally this is leading to a healthy suspicion aimed primarily towards all the new goodies we're getting from the supposed La Resistance.

They can get into our memories, I don't think it's that big of a leap to think everything else in our brains is at stake, do you?

[ Video for a moment. Roslyn's bent over the netbook, frowning. She doesn't look nearly as put together as normal, her hair shoved back into a messy ponytail as she rubs at her forehead. Her room behind her is a mess, none of the organization people who had visited her before would have seen. She realizes the video is recording almost immediately and sighs, clicking a button to switch it to voice. ]

I've noticed a significant uptick in people asking for the nearest bar. I believe someone out there is working on some sort of welcome booklet, but for now -

Welcome to Exsilium. Here's how you have a drink.

[ just before she disconnects ] You'll need it.

[ And attached to her post is a text list of the bars in the hold, question marks by the ones she hasn't been to and a few words' of description by the ones she has - size, activity levels. Well over half of them have descriptions. ]