[ Eyes narrowed as he appears on screen, flesh white as a sheet, Azrael is frowning. ]

It appears I am back here again--my third arrival, one I'm certain not to forget. Third time is a charm, is it not?

[ A hum, then a smirk. ]

Things were getting boring where I was, so thank you.

Now--anyone going to give me a summary? Six words or less. Go.

[ This broadcast sounds a little staticy, like it's from a long way away. ]

Hey— any trackers out there? I could use one. I got a missing horse, the asshole threw me and took off.

Oh, yeah, related, who wants to come pick me up? I got no idea where I am, but I haven't seen any buildings in, like, hours. Sooooo, pretty far out, is my guess! [ A laugh. ] Think of it as a game. Whoever finds me first gets all my worldly possessions, horse aside. Esteban aside, too. You don't want him, trust me, he'd dump a load of shit on your pillow and take off.

No prize if one of these monsters out here tears my throat out first, though. So, chop chop!

[Kili doesn't waste time with formalities. He looks strained and tired, dark shadows lining his eyes. No doubt he hasn't been sleeping well.]

I'm looking for Thorin Oakenshield. He's a dwarf like me, dark hair, blue eyes, probably carrying an elvish sword. I've been told he is here, but so far I've been unable to locate him.

[His hands are trembling slightly as he draws one over his face, rubbing lightly.]

If anyone has information on him, please tell me. [A moment of hesitation.] My name is Kili and the best place to find me would be the training rooms.

_{( For once, Remy might actually be in his apartment. He's sitting on his bed, not in coat or costume but a simple cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He's got a roll of cloth bandages, and is wrapping his hands methodologically. )}

Y'all really know how ta discuss, you know that? I'm very impressed.

_{( He's not, actually. He thinks the talking around such matters is a waste of time, and also a way to show the Initiative their hand. But he doesn't say so. )}

But I have ta say, all this bleak talk ain't really for me. Can't keep at it for very long. Désolé.

So, for those of you who care ta lighten the mood, here's a game. First player--that'd be me, I like ta deal--gives you a word. You say the first thing that comes ta your mind, after that. An' y'keep goin', over an' over, until someone cracks an' has ta ask the reasonin' behind your answer.

Whether y'tell 'em is up ta you.

_{( He laughs, to himself. )}

It's an option, anyways. If you don't wantta keep talkin' 'bout how unhappy y'all are.

_{( ooc / idk if this'll come up but if you want to threadjack and play with each other, i'm totally cool with that. )}

[He waves a hand in front of the camera before picking the netbook up, and holding it over him like a teenager taking a selfie in the bathroom. From that angle, one can see his face, and the tunic he arrived in--with one large, noticeable tear in the material over his left breast.]

...What am I to say. This land is beyond Middle Earth, so I've been told, and time has no consequence here. There may be few here that come from before my time--or beyond it. [He laughs mirthlessly.] I would normally not be so inclined to believe such foolery. If I were not seeing much foolery with my own eyes. 

[Boromir then lapses into a troubled silence. He wants to ask about Frodo, and what became of the fellowship. And Pippin and Merry--had they been spared somehow, despite his failure to save them. But there was too much risk in asking too many questions on what he understood to be an open channel. It might divulge too much. So he aims to find the safest.]

...I seek a ranger from the south. He wore black, last I saw him, and a ring set with a green stone. Answers to the name Strider.

[He still seems to want to say more to the magic seeing eye, but settles on that with a firm nod.] This is all I need, but it would help me greatly.



[OOC note: I know this is a little closed for replies. I haven't posted to the intro log yet out of sheepishness for how late it is now, but if you wanted to do something with Boromir there, feel free to shoot me a PM!]

[Kara's casually draped at her table, nursing a beer, smoking a stogie. Thank the gods for those base creature comforts. Still, she looks a little bored at the moment. Because there is one thing lacking in her life. Well many things, but at the moment, it's the lack of card night. Hope her roomies don't mind some company because she's about to invite everyone over, more or less.]

You know what this place needs? Card night.

[Seriously, she misses wiping the floor with the other folks on Galactica and feeding her gambling habit.]

Anyone else around here even play, other than Remy? We can't be the only ones around here, am I right?

[ The video feed turns onto Medusa in her new apartment - expression serious before she begins to speak. ]

Greetings Exsilium. For those of you who do not know me, I am Queen Medusalith Amaquelin-Boltagon, and from this point forward I will be acting as a direct liaison between the Initiative and Transports. While previously discussed, my appointment now is in part due to the actions of those individuals who procured the space ship and the request for more transparency and warning of upcoming events from the Initiative.

My job, as it stands, is to make sure everyone is informed about upcoming missions and other news with ample time to prepare, rather than the hurried explanations that we are all familiar with at this point. Which is what brings me here before you now.

[ She straightens even further, hair spreading out to cover the rest of the screen that isn't taken up by her body. ]

Recently the Initiative has been working on technology to return those who are unwilling or unable to fight back to the universe of our origin. But it is new and unrefined, and the possible consequences include permanent relocation to a world not your own.

Which is why the Initiative requires a volunteer to return to his or her own universe. The portal will be unstable - it may not open to the correct universe or remain open for long. They also seek a small number of people to go as a security team to protect both the individual who's world you have hopefully traveled to and a number of Initiative members sent to examine the situation.

Again, I must stress that there is no accounting for the dangers one might face, and the consequences it may have for you, your universe, or the team that the Initiative will send with. Do not volunteer if you are hesitant or unprepared to deal with said consequences; however, if you have questions, I will do my utmost to answer them.

Furthermore, if there are any among you who wish to aid me as a liaison, please inform me at your earliest convenience.

Thank you.

( ooc|| Signups are still open and can be found here as well as ooc information! )

Uh. Okay.

As far as I can tell, Pete, Mitsuki and Fi aren't here any more. So I hope if any of you lot knew 'em, you made them feel appreciated while they were here.

( Her tone is vitriol and anger, and frustration because she knows she didn't. If there's anyone she can be counted on to let down, it's Fiona Maxwell. And now she's gone. )

And if you didn't know 'em, then you missed out. They were good bloody people. All right?

Are there any other Australians here, or am I just special, again?

( She's angry, maybe unreasonable, she knows it. But seriously, fuck all you guys. And by that she means The Initiative. )

Shit.


( well, that cheeriness interlude was nice while it lasted )

Ah, there we go.

[There’s the sound of something tapping. Someone familiar with the habit may recognize a person tapping down a pack of cigarettes.]

This place is unique, to say the least. Interesting, I suppose you might say. A good cause, etcetera, when they're not trying to drop a building on us. I trust that part doesn't happen too often.

However I seem to have misplaced a few companions on the way here, which I’m sure is entirely their fault. They answer to the names Kenren, Konzen, and Goku. If you happen to run into any of them, and they’re still alive when you do, send them my way, won’t you? I’m sure they’re lost without me.

[The same tapping sound again.]

And cigarettes. This place does have them, doesn’t it? I wasn’t exactly packed for a long trip before I got here. Sake would also be acceptable, especially if this rain never lets up.

[Finally the sound of a lighter clicking open and the feed cuts out.]


( Action for anyone looking for the source of the smoke or the other #910 residents. )

Biggest country in world I know but Initiative don't seem to bother to bring anyone else but me. Too many goddamned Americans and Japanese. [ Says the heavy Russian accent. ] And aliens. And fucking elves. [ For all the emphasis he puts on that word, he doesn't sound angry. More of a 'fuck, what the hell, man?'

... Sorry, elves. He's targeting one elf in particular and he doesn't much care if there's more of them.

Sharp snort. Sound of a lighter snapping on, and the crackling of cigarettes. Then the camera switches on.

Have a pair of heavily tattooed hands, one of them curled around a white stick. Then he tips the tablet upwards until it shows his face, and Nikolai pulls off the sunglasses. ]

You lot ever get tired of talking on this thing? Bunch of stupid questions lately. [ He takes a drag of the cigarette, and blows it at the screen. ] You've all forgotten how to fuck, or something?


[ ooc; for any character with knowledge of Russian criminals, Nikolai's hands carry tattoos that basically says he's one of the worst ones out there. Yeah.

Also, content warnings for sexual assault for the thread with Steph (controlledvariable). ]

[ The feed flickers on. Han keeps the video setting off. No names had jumped out on the list as threatening or even familiar, but it paid to be careful. He had changed his own name. One of his old fake IDs now sits where “Han Solo” used to on the tablet.

As much as he expects this to be a failed enterprise, he has to try. He clears his throat. ]

Uh, there’s an emergency situation. I’m looking for an escaped Wookiee. Eight-feet-tall, covered in brown fur, very aggressive. If anyone knows of its whereabouts, contact me immediately. Do not try to engage it yourselves. Repeat: do not try to engage it yourselves. It’ll rip your arms off before you grab a blaster. So. Don’t try to be heroes. Thanks.

[ If they’re here, they’ll know. They’ll contact him themselves. Now to sit back and wait—only his least favorite thing to do. ]

[The first time the feed turns on, it focuses on a blank wall, and then blurs as it is turned around. Thorin emerges, leaning into the camera until the tip of his nose almost touches it. He stares for a few moments--a subtle wetting of his throat--and then he growls to himself:] Ridiculous. Nonsensical-- [He starts to say something else before it is cut off completely.]

[Almost an hour later he tries again, in a different room, with a grumpy, yet subjected scowl. This wasn't something he had been expecting to have to do again--was none too thrilled about the prospect of it--but it needed to be done.]

I have counted twenty-six days since I arrived in this place. Far more sunsets I have seen than the presence of my own kind. I had not wanted to believe it, but there are no dwarves here. Or they hide themselves well, even from me. [He hasn't seen a single mountain either, for that matter.] As far as I've gathered, we are but legend in this realm.

Then it is not a far stretch to assume you are in need of a smith or a stone worker--as your city lacks a pair of hands true in their mastership. I extend to you my services, and the guarantee you will not find one more skilled with a hammer or forge than a dwarf.

I go by Thorin Oakenshield. You may address me on this talking book.

[The voice that comes over the tablets sounds calm and collected, masking the panic and fear of the woman speaking.]

I don't know who she was staying with, nor what unit she had been assigned, but if anybody has seen Emma Swan recently, I'd be glad to know. I can't seem to get in contact with her, and though I didn't know her well...

[She has to stop for a moment. It is so, so hard to force her voice not to crack, saying those words.]

Though I didn't know her well, she doesn't seem the type to purposefully make herself unavailable. I suspect she's returned to our home, but I thought it appropriate to inquire about her regardless. Thank you all.

[And then a pause.]

If someone told you about the future that awaits you back home, would you try to change it though it seems set in stone?