So.

[The haphazard mass of glass bottles covering this little worktop vary considerably in shape and size, but there's one thing all of them appear to have in common: the opaque white liquid visible inside them. If you squint, several of the bottles also have condensation running down the sides; they can't have been out of the fridge for that long. One of them, towards the front, is half empty, and therefore probably the most exciting thing on the scene.

But if you only had audio to go by, you could be forgiven for getting the impression that Ed just tied an unconscious puppy to some train tracks. He sounds like he's about five seconds away from hauling off and driving over it himself, too. It's a good thing he's not recording his face right now.]

Who wants some of these? C'mon, don't be shy - it's your lucky day. Plenty to go around. Unit 302. Offer ends soon. Just come up and take it.

[You might also notice that the fridge just off to the side still seems to be open. At least from this angle, it looks a little bare...]

[Saul's not a fan of using video on this thing. Anyone could be watching, and he's sure that's the case — which means he's about to show a hand of cards he never really wanted to — but he also knows he needs to come across as sincere and non-threatening as possible if he wants this request to be taken seriously. Text wouldn't work, voice... might, but also might not.

He still has his doubts, though. What he's about to do is ridiculous, even by his own standards. He'd laugh at anyone else making a suggestion like this, and he's half-tempted to laugh at himself, too, but when the feed clicks on and his image appears, he's all business. Literally: in a suit, at a desk, weapon laid out (for those who'd notice, the weapon is disengaged, the safety on; he's learning!), hands folded.]

This — [indicating the weapon, then lacing his fingers back together] — is a shotgun that's been modified to use non-lethal electrified bullets. The charge measures about 500 volts, and —

[There go his hands again, moving to retrieve one of the cartridges. He lifts it to the lens, waits for it to focus, then continues speaking.]

From what I understand, that should be enough to temporarily incapacitate a normal human being. But the problem is, I'm not sure. I've been using blanks on the dummies over in the Hold, so I have no idea what effect one of these things would actually have on a living, breathing person. So...

[He trails off, lowers the cartridge, and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.]

I realize how unorthodox and just plain sketchy a request like this is going to sound, but... who's willing to let me shoot them, and who's willing to be the medic present if-slash-when this happens? I'm looking for someone over eighteen, healthy, preferably human. I can compensate you with fifty doll—uh. Marques. Or we can negotiate, if necessary.

Serious inquiries only. Thanks.

[ a low, mumbling voice ]

My name is Randel Oland. Coroporal. Imperial Army State Section III - Pumpkin Scissors. I've been in Exsilium for two months.

I-- [ he takes a deep breath and gains a bit more confidence ] I know some of us have experienced war before. I have a question for those who have seen war end.

Was there anything done to offer war relief?

( At least this time Ellie isn't in some random, ramshackle building, but enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and a giant cup of coffee. At least she looks marginally better rested than she has on previous occasions. )

So, with that whole swap thing, I've been thinking. ( A pause, and there's a note of self mockery in her voice: ) Because I don't think enough when weird stuff isn't happening. Or less-weird stuff, at any rate. ( Has she really digressed already and wandered off with her thoughts? She shakes her head at herself. )

I was thinking about anger. Or any emotion, I guess, when they get that intense that you feel like all your insides are writhing about like snakes, but anger's the one that stuck out for me. We're all in this war, and some of us have been in wars before and some haven't, and everyone handles it in these different ways.

( She trails off; articulating this isn't going so smoothly as she'd expected, but sometimes you just have to throw things at the wall and see what sticks. Homer used to throw pasta at the wall, a lot, and a bloody lot of that stuck. The memory makes her smile a little. )

I mean, just before I got here, Kev-- uh, this guy in our group, he wasn't doing so well with everything. ( See, Fi, she at least tried not to name and shame. Belatedly. ) Everyone tried different things to get him going, and it was this weird insight-- I guess it just said a bit about the kind of people we are, depending what tactic we used. ( Fi: sympathy. Lee: abuse. Homer: encouragement. )
I was all logic and common sense. ( A beat, before she continues, speaking a little more slowly as she grapples with her pride and tries to think it out. ) Sometimes I don't think that really shows the full picture, but.

( She could say that it definitely doesn't, not when you got anger that just bubbles up and blows being reasonable right out of the water. She could, but does not. )

Anyway, I was talking to this guy here, before, about anger. How you can use it, and that, make it work for you, and I just... I didn't know if that really worked for anyone. If anger's a weapon, or if you got an on/off switch for it, or what? 'Cause there's this quote in uh, this Shakespeare play - “wrath makes him deaf,” I think the Queen in Henry VI. ( She squints, trying to remember. ) And then there's another bit, about not coming between “the dragon and his rage,” in King Lear. I think Lear was already going crazy, though, by then, though. ( Quietly: ) It's been a while since I studied them. Trying to read that stuff and figure out all the language is hard, without those special high school study editions.

( Where was she even going with this? )

So I guess I just wondered what you lot thought about it. Anger and controlling anger and using it and whether it screws you up, or what.

( A beat, and she smiles crookedly. ) Or we could talk about dragons. We don't have any back home, but some of you have to have dragons, right?

[ This lady's looking a little different, for anyone that's spoken with her before. Not any older, but there's a sort of crooked quality to her nose, like it'd been broken and healed some time ago. She's lounging in the Initiative apartments, looking like she's recently made friends with a superiority complex. ]

I want to speak to those of you who have seen a war before. Not the skirmishes that the Initiative sends us on here, but actual war.

And failing that, I'll take anyone that knows magic — and can teach it. That part is important. Don't waste my time if all you can do is cast it.