[Video | Open to all]

[His face takes up the screen.]

Hello.

I'm Atomic Robo Tesla, new arrival, and generally not happy about this whole abduction thing. I heard the sales pitch and I'm working out the general information.

At least it's not vampires.

Anyways, I want to get to know who I am working with here. So, who all is out there?


[Action | The Apartments and UNIT № 2 0 4]

[A robot in camo pants is checking out his room before heading out through the rest of the building.

He's just checking things out, but if he sees you walking around he will stop and say hi.]

[ the woman on screen regards it with a look of mild disinterest, and subtle irritation that comes across from a simple raise of her brows from an otherwise smug face. ]

Oh, this place is desperate, isn't it? [ never mind the fact that she truly believes it's almost impossible. But she's here, others are here. No amount of pinching, or trying to convince herself this is a dream of any sort will change this. ] As much as I'm flattered at being picked to fight in a city's war completely irrelevant to my own, I have much more interesting endeavors awaiting me back home.

[ A beat. ] Besides, I'm sure plenty of people wouldn't consider me 'rebellion material', and I'd agree. [ Though she was good at her craft - she knew - she saw no reason to help them. Unless she benefited from it in some way. Some major, noticeable way. And for now, she saw little benefit at all. But perhaps that was from lack of knowledge. ] Oh, all of this is such an inconvenience.

[ Another pause, as she cants her head to the side gaze flickering to red-painted nails and exhales. ]

Alright, consider me willing to suspend my disbelief for the time being. All you veterans out there who've been here longer than I - I'd appreciate some advice. Information. Help a girl out?

[ A smile, faint and sharp. And the feed ends. ]

[Emma does not even have time for your nonsense, Initiative. However, she has neither woken up, nor has her team appeared to rescue her, so apparently she has to cope. Emma hates coping. But what she hates rarely has any bearing on what she actually has to do, and so she shoves her rising irritation back where only a hint of it can leak through to her voice and expression, and records herself a video post.

Look, Exsilium, it's a sharply beautiful blond woman who's got the camera pointed such that it doesn't look like she's wearing anything besides a choker. It's accidental, but she's too annoyed to care and fix the angle, so there you go.]

I should, I suppose, introduce myself to my fellow conscripts. My name is Emma Frost, and I'm simply delighted to make your acquaintance. [The observant might note that she is not, in point of fact, currently delighted about anything whatsoever.] One hopes no one else from my timeline has ended up here, but we've never been that lucky. Be a dear and check in, hmm?

[She's from a comic book. Of course she assumes she's going to know anyone else from her world who got stuck here. That's how things work.]

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 image is shaky and unfocused, at first, until the ruffling sounds cease and the picture stills after picking up on a blur of red, white and blue. A blond man, bruised and battered, and appearing a little worse for wear comes into view.

He's still fairly new to technology, and this seems to be that much more advanced than even some of the gadgets he came across in the future - he pauses to think that Stark - Tony - would love to get his hands on something like this. But he manages to figure it out pretty quickly, albeit awkwardly, and he audibly takes in a deep breath. ]

Guess I gotta introduce myself on this thing, don't I? Manners cost nothing, after all. [ He winces, whether at his own weariness or an actual injury is difficult to tell, and he rubs at the back of his neck, a somewhat nervous habit from years long since gone, smearing the dirt there further. ] M'Steve Rogers, and, uh, it's kinda been a long day.

[ But not long enough for him to have missed the details. This place is clean, organised, but there doesn't appear to be any immediate threat. He's already ruled out HYDRA, but he's pretty certain he left them back in the 1940s. And there's no aliens as far as he can tell, which is a relief. A civilised kidnapping? He remains on guard. ]

So, uh, anyone out there gonna fill me in on what I'm missing or am I really gonna have to do some investigating? [ He heaves a sigh, the camera pulling away from his face to focus on the uniform he's still wearing, and he mumbles to himself as he fumbles to figure out how to end the feed. ] ...'Cause I could sleep for a week.

[Katniss is in a tree. It's not clear where, but she's found a tree, and is now sitting in it. Both her bow and quiver are visible. She looks a little more focussed than she did when she first arrived, but also more drawn]

What will they do to us if we don't fight for them?

They used fire, in the Games. Or mutts. Traps to make you move, so that you'd do what they wanted you to do. So what is it here? Or is it going to be a surprise? Lull us into a false sense of security, spring the punishment on us for maximum effectiveness.

If we all just stop, what will they do to us?

[ the video is flipped on to show the transports' living quarters, one of many identical bedrooms (not his, really, but the one that he's been given), and wesley -- tired and kind of pissed off, if you'd like to know. ]

Okay, fine, I buy it. This is the future. Now would someone tell me how I get a hold of a ticket back a thousand years? -- what year was it, 3300-something? Yeah, I'd like a ticket back to 2008.

[ it's not directed to anyone in particular, but the network as a whole, and if there's anybody around who'd like to slit his throat or put a bullet in his skull? here he is, so come out, come out. time to show yourselves so he can know what the hell he's up against. ]

All I got from the future lady in the fancy clothing was bullshit about time travel. They want us to help change history so some assholes can overthrow the government? [ ha ha ha fuck no he's not helping you guys out. you kidnapped the wrong person. ]

Might as well use their time machine or whateverthefuck they've got to head back to 1934. Grab the opportunity and kill Hitler. I'm thinking it'd get me a pretty impressive medal.

[ For the moment, the video function remains off. Which is a shame, because dem ginger curls. But he's testing the waters, so for now it's only the Scottish brogue that filters over the network. ]

It figures. The one time I dial 999 and nobody bloody answers.

[ It's probably a good thing no one answered; Ashley isn't even sure what he would have said. This was all too surreal already. ]

That's just typical; years of loyal service and putting up with government standards and this is the thanks I get.

So who am I talking to? To whom do I owe the great honour of experiencing this mental clusterfuck, and when do I get to wake up? More importantly, where can I find a pack of cigarettes. Mine's almost out.

[ All things considered, Ashley sounds pretty calm. His tone is light, if a bit annoyed, though the sarcasm that laces his every word runs deep. ]

[He thinks there'll be static in the transmission but there isn't. This tech is a lot more advance than the boxes he's used to. He yells at it and leans close to the netbook. All anyone is getting is black for now.]

Hello! Hey! Anyone on this?

[That steady tapping noise? It's the sound of him tapping at the netbook. It doesn't work like that, he knows and yet he's still doing it because it's a habit to hit on non-responsive machinery. Then finally, his face appears, at least the lower portion of it. He had the thumb on the camera all along. Bucky's mouth twitch upwards, but he doesn't miss a beat.]

Green light still means go, huh? Glad somethings don't change.

[A long inhale and a short exhale. Then it's down to business.]

This is place-- It's nice. It can't be a HYDRA base. That lady was way too decent. That and apparently this is Britain. Last time, I was in Britain-- Long story.

[A beat]

We're all sitting ducks here, aren't we?