Hey. Quick question.

[ The thief holds up a red vial of liquid, but anyone who has seen this particular chemical compound before might notice that it's not glowing as brightly as it used to. ]

Safe place to dispose of depleted xenothium ore? I've been stockpiling them for a rainy day, but I'm running out of safe places to hide 'em. Don't worry, can't make anything REAL dangerous out of the depleted form, but direct exposure might still make your hair fall out, if you get my drift.

[It's a brilliantly sunny day, everyone. It's raining, of course, but not lightly enough to turn to mist and block the light, and not heavily enough to drive everyone indoors.

The cause for the brilliance is sitting atop the highest structure he could find near the center of the city, shining like a star. Best not to look at him directly. You might even want to buy sunglasses, although there's probably no one who sells them.

He's not illuminating the whole city, of course, but he's trying.]

Greetings all, 'tis Balder the Brave. If others can bring snow, I thought I might try to bring the sun. Let me know if it is too much. And if you would, entertain me with your best stories. I ask not that they be true, merely interesting.

[video]

The last few days are kind of a fuzzy blank, but I'm assuming there's a perfectly good explanation as to why my bedroom as a smashed ruin and my window now covers the entire wall.

I'd be interested in hearing it, IF someone can spare a minute.

[video again, twenty minutes later.]

I am sorry. I am so very sorry. I wanted to get back what I lost but...

I never wanted this.

Please forgive me.

[The screen shows a terribly serious-looking man. If you look closely you might realize that he looks an awful lot like an animated corpse (which, coincidentally, would be because he is one). If not? He might look like any other medieval fellow who hasn't really kept up on hygiene. Or who perhaps contracted some kind of horrible disease.

Either way, he doesn't seem bothered by his condition.

He's also doing a pretty good job keeping the camera steady and focused despite his lack of experience with such devices. HE MEANS BUSINESS OK.]

Good people!

I confess I have not yet spoken to many of you, which I presently hope to rectify. You may call me Justice, and I intend to see to it that each poor soul drawn to this world is soon returned to his rightful lands unharmed.

[Big promises maybe but hey that's a spirit of justice for you.]

But first I must ask -- how does the Initiative capture its... [is "victims" too strong a word?] recruits? It is not magic, and I know no other way

[The screen comes on, showing Meliantha, with two small barrels - about knee-high, each - with markings on them (probably writing, but not Earth languages) on the table next to her.]

It has been brought to my attention that, for the good of us all, I must sacrifice some things I brought with me.

This [She puts her hand on one of them] is a small-keg of Tanagyr's Stout, a dark stout, well-regarded and smuggled heavily from place to place. And this [She touches the other] is a small-keg of Saerloonian Special Red, which is as the name implies a red wine, considered excellent where I am from.

I currently have about nine gallons of the beer, and eleven gallons of the wine, available. In order to keep the peace and help those in need, I will be willing to share these with us who have been brought here. Bring your own cups or glasses.

Since many people do not think well of those that just give things away, therefore I request in return the best joke you know - I am sharing something to improve people's moods, so we can have that in return.

[Ionae has been even harder to find than normal lately. If it were up to her she'd just vanish from society entirely, but some things demand you leave your bedroom, and her notebook never stops pinging her with notifications of new network posts. Feel free to run into her on one of her few errands. She's even more withdrawn to the point of eying total strangers suspiciously or crossing the street to avoid people, so it may be tricky.

Plan A: Hide forever. Clearly it's not going to work. Maybe it's time to actually try to think like a human being...]

[Filtered to Blaine]

Can we talk? In person, preferably?

[ it opens with the sound of walking, the creak of a door opening followed by hard soled shoes on an old wooden floor. there's a creak of a lid opening, and then the scrape of a chair across the floor. There's a pause without sound and then there is a song. After it's done, Takegami plays a couple simple scales and then sighs. ]

That was an interesting interlude. Do try better next time, mm? I think I lasted a good two minutes laying in that alley. Mind, I am still pissed about my jacket. Do you know hard it is to find a good leather coat in this place? Blood does not come out of leather, never mind the holes. People and their guns. How messy.

[ yeah, he does not care about dying. in fact, he finds it a little funny. ]

What did I miss while I was spending time among the dearly departed?

Now that the city was back to normal, Ionae had some very important business to attend to. She was in the market place making some purchases. In her shopping bag, aside from the various random daily necessities (toilet paper, toothpaste, canned soup, etc.) is a book of nude art prints and two issues of playboy (or whatever the distant future equivalent is. There's got to be something.). She tried to be furtive and sneaky about buying them but she wasn't very good at it.

( So why is Ionae buying porn? (Locked to apartment 303) )

Say what you will about mortality, the moment after the fear of death passes is truly a beautiful thing. I'm even feeling good about getting to move back into that tiny apartment and seeing these endless gray skies. Even the smell of smoke is almost pleasant after the smell of unwashed humanity cowering in catacombs.

[Private to Alistair]

I believe you once offered to trade training in telecommunications technology in exchange for training in the use of archaic weapons. Are you still interested in that?

[Everyone was trying to avoid talking about it, but the fact remained that while casualties among the transports was minimal, their were still an awful lot of dead.

Ionae is currently kneeling next to a man who has taken a lethal chunk of shrapnel through the lung. He only has minutes left at the most. One would think that with Ionae's callous attitude, she might be used to such things, but this appears not to be the case. She looks profoundly disturbed]

Such fragile things, human bodies. You struggle on like an animal, even as your body leaks out its last blood onto the flood. Do you even know what is happening any more?

Maggie...is that you...?

What? Speak up, you're gurgling.

I...I always...

[And then he died.]

...It was so quiet. Did he even notice? Will I? Nothing to look forwards to but at best a few short decades and then I'll be no more than carrion. Everything that makes me me will be consigned to endless black oblivion.


[She fought it, but was unable to hide tears.]

DAMN the Council and their games!

[a soft crackle as the tablet is set down, then--]

Welcome to the Initiative. Enjoy this bomb.

Really, what kind of greeting is this?

[--a pause --]

Anyone know if these tunnels will really hold up or are we going to get buried alive?

Bariyan is dead.

[ Someone is having difficulties sounding his usual calm and measured today! This comes out sounding pretty forced. ]

I tried to — I'm sorry. I could do nothing for him, and... and perhaps the Initiative, as they've done for others, will return him. I couldn't— 

[ a pause. ]

I'm sorry.

I've heard rumor that we can't die here. Is this true? Am I not as pathetically fragile as I thought?

Atamagaitai... Sore ga akka shi tsudzukete.

[ He doesn't sound so well, a little hoarse and tired and not his usual smug annoying wat. In fact, it sounds like he is working his way into a full-out sulk. Which usually involves a lot of people getting hurt in creative ways but he doesn't feel up to it. So instead, he will ramble about a few things on his mind. ]

How many secrets are hidden in this place? How many do you think that they will let us find? Their past, their records are incomplete - books with torn pages and blackened names, pieces never fully recovered in the centuries that they have been here.

What of us then? How many of us hide behind masks? How many do not tell truths and how many are not what they may seem to be. [ A brief bit of laughter, ended with a a slight intake of air and a quiet '...shit'. ] The Initiative saw something in each of us that they may put to use. I think that we may need to be open of what that something is.

Or at least learn how to act coherently together. It is always easier to pick off a group that does not work together or so I would believe from various media. Think on that as well.



[ooc; Fail!translation is 'my head hurts... it keeps getting worse'.]

So, I've just gotta ask. How many people's parents here went to Woodstock? Because I've been hearing some pretty groovy names being tossed about.

[A pause, and Sam's voice sounds a little more amused as he continues.]

Or what about people named after their grandmothers? I know at least one.

[Totally not talking about you, Deanna-er, Dean.]

Anyway, for those of you who are new, welcome aboard. I guess.

[Shortly after this. The time is 3:12AM. Ionae looks to be outside somewhere in the city. Also her face is covered with blood, leaking from several long cuts along one side of her scalp. She just kind of stares for a few seconds in confusion before shaking her head and visibly regathering her thoughts.]

Ugh...Is anyone even awake? Someone attacked me...don't know where a doctor is.

My head hurts.

[Here is a cheerfully smiling Mahdi. He's holding up an obnoxiously cute kitten planner and looking cheerful.]

Hi everyone. I've been thinking. If we're all going to be stuck here for a long time, I figured I should find out everyone's birthday and if they have a favorite meal or type of cake. If you'd please respond to this message with your name, birthday, and a little bit about you, I'd really appreciate it!

On that note, I was thinking. If people keep turning up, we should have some sort of monthly event so everyone can get to know each other, introduce ourselves and catch up and celebrate one another's birthdays. Like a potluck, maybe? There are too many people to do do this at my apartment, so I'd need to figure out a spot. What do you think?

Oh, by the way. I'm Mahdi. I like cats, singing, and cooking. My birthday is Valentine's Day!

[ what up, exsilium. have you had your daily dose of teenager yet? no? let's fix that. ]

Hey, Scott, buddy—thanks for the calendar. It's awesome. [ covering his best friend's furry butt: just a day in the life of stiles stilinski. (it's his "birthday", he can lie if he wants to.) ] I can track lunar phases way more accurately now, which, y'know. Totally helpful. You know me... and the moon. And planets, all of the planets. Love 'em.

[ you might notice the way he's chewing on his shirt, his lips, the way his eyes dart around. it's not because he's lying—which he never made a claim to be good at, but hey—it's because he's two seconds from jumping on his bed and raising hyperactive hell. ]

Moving on—where can a guy score some Adderall around here? It's usually a prescription thing, but, hey, doesn't look like the Initiative kidnappers really care all too much about stuff like medication. Here's a little tip for you guys, if you're listening in, which, let's face it, you probably are: I can't fight your battles for you unless you make an effort for me, okay? Okay.

[ OKAY. ]

Man, I'd kill for a good movie. Video game. I'd even settle for a board game. Parcheesi?

[Action]

[Gordon had taken to a pattern. Get up, work out (behind closed doors and hopefully away from any wry observations of Chloe's), head to the Hold, lose himself in the library. With the VR system still buggy they'd more or less halted training for new Transports, so he had a lot of time on his hands. It's easy to find him around the library, and in the anterooms of the Training facility, not to mention on the streets and at the marketplace, hoping against hope that he can find some actual decent COFFEE somewhere.]

( TL;DR, field equations and bad language. )

[Video]

Hey... A few questions for all of you. I've heard tell that the worlds we come from go into stasis relative to our frame of reference when we get here. Time stops for them, in other words. Can anyone actually verify this? Also I'm looking for someone. Woman about half a head shorter than I am, wears a bandanna, a little on the slender side, has a hacking tool that she uses for everything? She goes by the name of Alyx. Has... has anybody seen her here?

[Two lavender eyes stare deeply into the camera, leaning in too close.]

Testing, 1, 2, 3! Um, hi? Oh good, it's working...

[Mahdi slides backward. He's in the dining area of one of the assigned apartments. The guy looks about fifteen, and was clearly plucked right from his job: he's wearing a clean but old and stained black apron over khakis and a polo that have seen better days. There's a hairnet crumpled up on one side of the table, next to a glittery purple flashlight.]

Is there any way for me to contact my boss on this thing? You'd think a simple inter-realm transmission wouldn't be that hard considering how much other crazy stuff they have out here. [More to himself than to the netbook:] I really just want to tell her I won't be coming in. I'm supposed to be there for the breakfast crowd and she's gonna be up a creek without me. Probably can't get out of getting fired for not showing up... even if technically I was there. Early, even!

[He seems to remember himself, and addresses the camera once again.] Anyway, hi! I'm Mahdi. I'm new. They set me up with a place to stay, so I guess I'm gonna be a prisoner for awhile here, huh? [He doesn't exactly seem upset about it, though at least it's clear he's not enthusiastic.] I hope we can makes friends! That's what people do on the internet, right?

[The video clicks on to show a pale woman talking to someone off screen, mid conversation.]

-nd then what happens?

...Introduce myself? Why would I want to do that?

It's going now!? Dammit! Uh...

[She finally looks at the screen, looking flustered and annoyed.]

Oh fine, hello, I guess. I'm Ionae, and I've been roped into this doomed crusade in much the same way that I gather all of you have. With any luck, I'll get out of it without dying.

...That's it.

[Click.]

[If you happen to live in unit 303, you may notice a strange woman with a cloak looking over your stuff. By the look in her eye, it's only a matter of time before this switches to looking through your stuff.]