[Good evening, Exsilium! Sheryl may have been stuck in this dystopian city for approximately two months now, but it's the first time she's officially made a network feed for the masses. And what better way to show off the device's capabilities by doing what she does best?

There's a soft intake of breath, slow and steady, then she begins with a calm, dulcet rendition of "Aimo". The song is relatively short and peaceful, but her voice retains all the intensity and passion, enough to show that it's sung by a woman with well-trained vocal chords.]

( Aimo aimo... )

[Shortly, the feed switches to video, revealing a pink-haired woman lying down on her stomach in bed, all smiles as she swings her feet back and forth from behind, also propping her chin in the palm of her left hand.]

To tell you the truth, this isn't really my song. I heard it once back when I was trapped as a child in here and at that time, a young girl with a kind heart sung it to me. I didn't realize it then, but that girl would someday become my best friend.

[She pauses, tucking her pink strands behind her ear with her free hand, then grins.]

Ranka, I don't think you ever told me about that song before! I'm interested in hearing about its origins. And as for the rest of you—

[Her grin soon morphs into a confident smirk as she pokes at the camera. Guess what? The singer has something planned in her sleeve, judging from the slight glimmer in her blue eyes.]

Tomorrow, I'll be making pot-au-feu, a delicious French stew which I expect everyone to try at least once. You'll be missing out if you don't, so I won't take no for an answer. Consider this an invitation from Sheryl Nome.

[ The voice is hushed and small, but no less direct for it. ]

Reporting. Met with Ikari-kun and the pilot of Unit-02. [ Kaworu Nagisa, the Fifth Child - she omits him, as something unsettles her still. ] Housing was located, according to instructions. No status problems. I will wait.

[ Silence, as if she forgot to end the recording, until: ]

Requesting information on where to buy clothes. My plugsuit is not useful here.

[Look who finally bothered to figure out the communicator. After how many months of being here? But, well, he's conversed enough that Tyki figures he can figure out how not to flub up his own entry to this bizarre communal journal too much.

He sounds the picture of a good-humored gentleman but you won't see his face. Better not to show too much, with Allen around - the boy knows both his White and Black forms, after all. Tyki wouldn't want to blow his cover for his White side, or let Allen do that. Cover might well be a problem eventually.

But not now and who wants to think about that? Now, he sounds the picture of a good humored gentleman, even if there's no saying one way or another that he looks it.

A chuckle.] Do you lot complain as much at home as you do here? Or have as much philosophical conversation? Either that lot have really terrible luck targeting their little device, or your homes must be very dry places.

Who else is looking for some fun while you've got a chance of it? Let's talk. It's always good to find a new pastime, isn't it?

[Filtered away from one Rika Furude.]

I have a question for everyone. Say someone you know's seemed really down in the dumps lately. What would you do to try and cheer them up?

That's all I wanted to ask. Thanks!

... Well. This Initiative is certainly going out of their way to make me comfortable. I suppose it's some compensation for their impromptu kidnapping.

[ As that is said, the feed opens up to a young woman with sharp, gold eyes, and features that would seem exotic for the "norm" (even for her world, probably) addressing the feed as it sits by her side. Despite her words, said in an almost intrigued tone, she looks nonplussed about the situation. ]

Hm. From one war to another war without the usual war time rules- [ Time and space travel was something thought of in stories, okay? Okay. ] -that's set in a dystopian future.

An interesting change of scenery. [ Not really. ] Who else thinks so?

... Hello! [Was that how you were supposed to start these things? Oh well.] Ah, sorry if I'm interrupting anyone. My name is Ringo Noyamano, I just arrived here a few moments ago. I think I understood most of what I was told, and I'm sure I can figure it out otherwise, but I am wondering one thing.

[A slight pause, and it was good she'd picked voice as opposed to video, because she looks pretty embarrassed.] Can anyone tell me the quickest route to a clothing store near the... Hold, I believe it's called? Any clothing store will do-- I shouldn't be too picky in an emergency. Thank you for listening!

[Then, much softer, right before she ends the feed--] It's really cold...

[And in case anyone near the Hold did happen to pass by, she was currently crouched behind a makeshift barrier/chair, her back to a corner-- her outfit had been fine back home, given the situation, but now she just felt ridiculous.]

[ Akito’s eyebrows are wrinkled and his face is definitely way too close to the screen, but once he realizes the video function is actually on and working - he pulls back, an easy smile on his lips and a hand raising to give a small wave to the camera. ]

Hello! I haven’t been able to look around much yet myself, but -- there was someone with me before I got here, and I was wondering if anyone has seen him? He’s about this tall, [ he gestures about foot and a half above his head, which probably isn’t much help, but. ] has brown hair that’s pointed at the ends, yellow eyes, and might be wearing am ugly colored sweater vest. Goes by Akira!!

If you haven’t seen him, then maybe Kazu? He’s about -- [ the hand lowers a half a foot. ] this tall, has blond hair, blue eyes, always wears a white beanie.

[ the hand drops down as he finishes speaking, arm pressing close to his side. ] Or if you could tell me where the nearest cake shop is, that would be almost as good!

My name is Akito, by the way. Akito Wanijima. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I'm sure.

[ as usual, Riku's been helping Transports that're coming in. it's the courteous thing to do, he figures. but even he needs a break, and remembering what he was told as a kid during the event, he's ... made something of a makeshift soccer field in one of the gymnasiums. with two goalposts and lines in tape, it looks like a proper field.

without the grass, of course. he'd love to play in the rain, but with all the new Transports and with dirt turning to mud and good god, the chill... well, not much of a game if everyone's slipping and sliding and freezing, anyway. he bounces the ball on his head like the proper showoff he is. ]

Who's up for a game?

There's got to be soccer--uh, or football [ he glances to the Initiative staff member who coughed when he said 'soccer' with a raised brow ] on other worlds, too.

There's a lot of new people around, now, like there always is around this time of month. So if you just arrived and need to kick something--

[ there's a flash of yellow and purple suddenly, and the ball he'd been bouncing is suddenly gone. he has to turn to look off-camera, and he levels his gaze. ]

C'mon, Stellaluna. You can't...

[ ...!

he rolls his eyes and moves off-screen, himself. ]

That's not for eating. Spit it out.

[ off-screen wrestling; the ball shoots out, hitting the chair his device is sitting upon. it tumbles over and reveals Riku taking the ball from a flapping bat's grip.

once the ball's let go, the bat perches atop his head, and he gives her a pet before looking back at the device. ]

... oh, right. [ he starts to get up. ] If you helped me as a kid, I'd like to talk to you. Privately.

[ he moves over, and clicks off the feed. ]

[a testing sound, a little huff of an exhale, and a lapse into quiet. he's hesitant.

but:] Did they say anything about this? Everyone changing...Last time awful things were happening, they said they were working on it. Things got better.

I'm...not very good at using this. Did I miss it? It's... [slight pause. his tone gets gradually more distracted:] It's going to change, like before. And every time we get sent someplace different, something else happens...

[beat.

WAIT:] I meant the Initiatve people, I'm sorry. [a quick, wincing pause. apologies....] They're who I meant should have said something.

[Getting here and being thrown right into the thick of things? It's kind of like hitting the ground running, and he's nothing if not good at acting on exactly what he's given. But, he thinks in some ways it's made processing everything that much harder.

Too much information, not enough context. It's not exactly a pleased expression he's wearing, but it's not hostile either]

This is Captain James Kirk, of the USS Enterprise. If any of my crew, or any other active member of Starfleet happen to be here, do me a favour and report in.

[He pauses to weigh his next words carefully. Considering the communication methods were given to him, he doesn't trust them to be secure from the people behind this whole thing. Anything he wants to say- It's either got to be coded or done in person. So he changes track entirely]

The rest of you? I wouldn't mind hearing about what you do for fun around here, or just about anything else about this place you can tell me. [Because you never put everything on the travel brochure for tourists, and he wants to know everything the higher ups aren't telling him. Everything that's only figured out with first hand experience and time.

A beat] You know what? Why don't my new roommates check in too.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

[The camera isn't on Jesse. He's using it like a camcorder, dizzyingly turning it from one spot to another to another. He's in his apartment. There's a table. There's the ceiling. There's the kitchen counter.]

Are you kidding me. This is so sweet. Oh my god...

[There's his hand, with its familiar black tribal tattoo, touching the slick countertop. Then the camera turns sharply again, this time on the floor while he walks a few steps. His sneakers and his ridiculously oversized jeans are in view for a few seconds while he walks down the hall to the bedrooms. He opens the door to one - and apparently realizes it's a girl's room, because he whispers:]

- Oh shit, oops...

[And then he continues on to the next one, shaky cam bouncing with every step. When he opens that door, he gasps again in amazement.]

Is this really my stuff? Sick crib, holy shit. Look at this -

[A leather jacket comes into view. There's Jesse's hand again, picking it up, and something falls out of the pocket when he does. To those who don't know any better, it looks like a baggie of blue rock candy. Jesse practically squeals at the sight of it, and for a brief moment the camera glimpses his overjoyed face (not much younger but somehow much more youthful, framed by messy blonde hair that hasn't been shaved off yet) - and then the camera goes black all of a sudden as he tosses the communicator face-down onto the bed. He's still audible in the background:]

Score!

[It's through poking and prodding alone that he's been able to figure out how the netbook works, and while he has taken the liberty of spooling through some of the more recent entries to try and figure out where he is and what's going on, none of what he's found has been conclusive. It's a deeply distrustful mini-prince that finds his way onscreen as a result, and although he's scowling impressively, there's a hint of fear in his eyes that hasn't been completely buried.]

To whoever kidnapped us, you aren't going to gain anything from imprisoning me. I'm not sure what you were thinking, but you can't have been paying attention to current events if you thought it was a good idea.

[Seriously, are you touched in the head or something? His scowl soon fades, though, if only because his audience has changed. This is probably a stupid idea, but--]

To everyone else, have you seen a girl with long, chestnut hair? Her eyes are closed, and she's in a wheelchair. If not her, have you seen a boy around my age with brown hair and green eyes? He's probably wearing a white shirt and big black pants that look like a dress.

They might be together, but I can't be sure. Please let me know if you've found either of them.

[For a second or two, he looks very much like he wants to add something else, but eventually, he thinks better of it and ends the entry.]

((ooc; Oh right, and anyone who's been paying attention may just notice that while Lelouch's previous entries deliberately had the name "Lelouch Lamperouge" tacked on them, this one says "Lelouch vi Britannia." Jsyk.))

Hi, I'm Shu Ouma. You can call me Shu.

Nice to see you all.

[After Shu's self introduction there was an awkward silence lingering in the air.  The silence made him assume he messed up somehow. Shu's  completely nervous about showing his face to the network.  ]

Um.

[At this point he'd pretty much be okay with saying anything as long as it filled in the silence and didn't make him look bad. Here goes nothing.]

Does anyone here want to play a word game? 

The rules are easy.  All you have to do is take the last letter of a word and make a new word with it.  

For example "Happy"  ends in "Y" so you can only pick words that start with "Y". A word like "Yard" would work well I guess.

There's a couple more rules but they're simple. You're only allowed to pick nouns and you can't repeat words that were said already.  That's all.

Is anyone interested?

[Jesse looks nervous. He keeps glancing off-screen, like he's looking for permission or approval from someone who's keeping an eye on him. It's the camera he addresses, though:]

H-Hey. So, um...

If you don't know who I am, you can ignore this whole thing, 'cause it ain't really relevant to you.

Ranka? Sorry I disappeared all of a sudden after Christmas. I hope you weren't worrying or anything. I dunno if... I mean, I probably won't be home for a while. So just... don't worry. About that.

Everybody else - I mean, like, anybody who knows me and could do me a favor, like... Could you come and talk to Mia Fey? 'cause I need - what's it? - character witnesses. Like, people who've known me for a while who would maybe...

[The next words are mumbled as he looks down at his hands:]

...come and testify at a trial.

That's all.


(( There's a plotting post if you want to know what this is all about. ))

[ Scene: a kitchen. Someone, the focus of the camera, is in the middle of attempting to put on a sweater-- a box and wrapping paper are off to the side. ]

I promise it is going to look great on you! I saw it and I knew you had to have it.

I-- really don't think I need--

[ The sweater gets pulled all the way on, at which point Bariyan looks down at himself and sighs. He tugs in defeat at the bottom-most sweater-cat.

Then he looks up, straight into the camera. He blinks. Horror flickers across his face. ]

What are you doing with that.

[ Feferi just laughs from behind the camera, completely innocent, no mischief here, no way. ]

Nothing. Say hello to everyone!

[ Instead of saying anything, Bariyan continues to stare dead-eyed into the camera. Then he points at it. ]

You are not putting this on the network.

[ But Bariyan knows that fish princess does what fish princess wants. So he follows that up with a heavy sigh, and proceeds to drag himself out of the kitchen in an attempt to escape filming.

Poor Bariyan. As he trudges off, Feferi turns the camera around and gives it a smile. ]

Okay, will someone help me out here and tell him how cute he looks?

I never thought I'd be here long enough to see Christmas! Even if that means it's been a while - but, that's not a bad thing either, right? Because we all got to meet here. Oh, not that - not to say that I don't miss everyone at home, either...! But still...

( still, ranka's all pleasure, enjoying her view of the snow and giving the tablet a bright smile. thoughts like that won't bog her down at the moment. )

...and getting to see real snow, too! It's amazing, right?

( ooc: also in case i didn't get to you on the gift meme, ranka's cr can all assume they got cards and earnestly made christmas presents from her. EVEN IF THEY'VE ONLY TALKED ONCE OR SO you can assume at least a card :) also crying i totally am getting back to those masq threads even if it'll be a bit late )

[As the feed comes on, an somewhat intimidating redheaded man standing somewhere outside can be seen eyeing the device. His expression, though relatively indifferent, is slightly annoyed. Getting thrown into a second warring world after having ended a war back home? Yeah, it isn't particularly enjoyable.

Upon seeing the communicator function as it should, the irritation shifts into a look of mild approval. If nothing else, their technology was simple enough to use.]

I am Kratos Aurion, one of those among the new arrivals in Exsilium. [Introduction aside, it's time to get down to more pressing business.] The technology within this world must be substantially advanced to permit for time travel. What do their devices use as a fuel source?

[Bad experience with overuse of an energy source to the point of the world nearly being destroyed make one cautious about such things. Hmm on the note of their technology....]

I've another inquiry, one pertaining to the Initiative's transportation capabilities: is it commonplace for them to be able to bring in those who have already been thrown into a world which is not their own? On that matter, is there anyone present who is aware of any of the following: Sylvarant, Tethe'alla or Death Ci--

[Kratos gets abruptly --and painfully-- cut off with a brick falling from the building behind him and hitting him square in the head. The communicator gets dropped, landing face first on the ground. Though nothing but darkness is visible for a good couple seconds, a few rather colorful choice words can be heard coming from off screen.

It takes a moment before the device gets picked up and a very displeased looking Kratos can be seen rubbing the back of his head. If one were to pay close enough attention, they would notice the hand is covered with a fair bit of blood.]

...If someone might provide directions to an infirmary, it would be greatly appreciated.

[Thrust into yet another warring world and dealing with a potential concussion. Great. Just Great. The feed gets flicked off.]

Hey. Got a question for all of the tech freaks out there. I know there's plenty of you around.

[It isn't the most formal way to start a message, never mind a request - but even so, there's a briskness to his voice that sounds almost business-like.]

Let's say I want to keep an eye on the names that show up on this thing [a couple of relatively loud taps] along with the new people. Is there a way I can set it up so it... [He hesitates for a fraction of a second, but carries on as if he hadn't.] lets me know somehow when a specific name gets added to it? Or any name, that works too. Just out of interest.

Details would help, but a straight yes or no's better than nothing. I'm not exactly expecting any hand-holding here.

[Text - Filtered FROM Rookie]

I was wondering if anyone knew where I could find colored strings of lights. If those aren't available, what are some materials I could use to fashion something similar?

[Video - Public]

[A bit after the text message appears, Kallen shows up on the network, grinning, probably a bit wider than necessary. Her tone's relaxed and friendly, her wave at the camera suggesting nothing of ill will at all. In fact, the pilot's in a generous mood! Why not offer some help to those who might be looking for it?]

Looks like the masquerade's a little over a week away now, huh? I know it's short notice, but I have a friend who's simply excellent when it comes to sewing and designing clothes. He's very thorough and timely, too. I have a feeling if anyone asked nicely, he'd be willing to lend a hand in preparation.

[She can't help but chuckle before continuing.]

Speaking of preparation, is there anything else that needs done? I've got time to kill, so putting it to good use sounds like a plan.

[ loading, loading, loading--

click. when the camera turns on, it shows a wall of lobby of the transports' housing, and Riku--that guy that's been gone for a couple of days, completely scarce--and he looks notably different. for one, his hair's cut, and two... he just carries himself differently.

he's up against the wall, looking to be pinning a long piece (and wide; it's almost as tall as him and spans a lot of the wall) of paper to it. a few things are already drawn; spherical shapes and some rectangles with landscapes drawn in them, with a name above them with some writing underneath.

and he seems to be talking to someone off-camera. ]

Stellaluna.

[ flapflapflap ]

You know... that fruit's fake.

[ flapflapflap SCREE 8(

to which he just laughs, and a large multicolored bat comes into frame, speeding straight at him. he's almost bowled over as the bat nuzzles against him, and he takes a moment to calm her down before moving over to the tablet, to find it's already recording. ]

Looks like it's finally on.

It's been a few months since I've been here, but it looks like it was just a few days here. [ he shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair. ] Time travel...

A lot of people have friends, maybe even family here--but the number of worlds that're represented here is still huge.

So it'd do some good to start plotting out how many worlds there are between all of us, and anything from our homeworlds that might be worth something. I've already got the worlds I've been to drawn up here, and my homeworld, too. If you wanna add to it, it's down in the lobby of the housing building.

[ Video--coming from Adam's tablet for once, and not his retinal enhancements. it shows him, obviously in his messy apartment, and obviously... different from what one might be used to. he's neither properly dressed nor his usual stoic, composed, monotone self.

but most notably, the lenses of his shades--which are mounted to his head--are retracted. his eyes are visibly artificial. here's the usual gravely voice: ]

...And they keep dragging more and more people here. Or is that the machine malfunctioning again? Can't be sure anymore.

Anyway, hello. My name's Adam Jensen and I'm -- [ insert vague, dismissive gesture here--his hand, too, is artificial and looks like it's made out of black metal. ] ... who the fuck even cares. I'm the local oversized can opener. Hi.

[ if it wasn't obvious before that he's drunk, it's sure as hell now. ]

Given the uh, premise under which you all arrived here as well as the popularity of thought-provoking surveys lately, let's talk about a topic each of you surely can contribute to with a story or two. Since I couldn't help but notice that we're quite a miserable bunch of misfits. Exceptions prove the rule by the way.

[ pause, during which he reaches off screen... for his smoke. ]

So, broken dreams. There's a pretty catchy song on them by Green Day which I can only recommend. But before you scurry off to find it, why don't we share with the class why we're all so damn bitter, and not only since we ended up in this shithole. Though I guess the shithole made it worse, in some cases. I don't know. Getting it off your chest might have a soothing effect, or something.

[ another pause, and he seems pensive for a moment. he might be able to offer alternative treatment methods for your troubles which may involve punching ahem. ]

Here, I'll start. I was planning to get married not too long ago, start a family. I had the perfect girl, a decent job I liked and paid well, and then--then science happened.

[ a dry, humorless chuckle. ]

Gotta love science. Your turn.

Light! [ Sure hope you wanted one (1) two meter tall guy shouting over the network today, Exsilium, because you're going to get it. Snow shakes his tablet a few times for emphasis, yelling into his surroundings as much as the screen itself. ] Vanille! Fang! Hope! Sazh! C'mon, someone answer...

[ Well, scratch that. He rubs the back of his head for a moment, before setting the tablet down and turning away. ]

I'm gonna need some help here... Ladies! Mind lendin' me a hand?

[ The feed catches the summoning of said ladies, though the pair are onscreen only a moment before transforming into a motorbike which Snow gleefully leaps aboard. He gives a heroic thumbs-up pose to the tablet before snatching it back up, tossing the (still transmitting) thing into a coat pocket. ]

Haha, alright! Let's get this show on the road!

[It's not long before something else is heard in the distance, a sound akin to a low rumble, or perhaps a growl.

It's all but confirmed when that growl becomes a roar, and a little later, a voice that might be familiar to some speaks up:]

I'll take the sky! We'll cover more ground that way. [Fang adds, in a mutter:] They've gotta be around here somewhere. No way we all could've been separated that quickly...there's something else going on.

[ ooc; TL;DR IF YOU EVER WANTED TO BE ACCOSTED BY A GIANT MAN ON A LESBIAN MOTORCYCLE OR AN ATTRACTIVE LADY ON A DRAGON today is your lucky day because they will be hitting up everyone they come across in addition to answering the network. Tags will come from both in separate threads! ]

[The entry begins with a quiet sigh, apparently unconscious but no less heartfelt because of it. First a relocation to some post-apocalyptic/cyberpunk/dystopian locale (it's difficult to fit Exsilium into a single box and he feels no inclination to), then told he's to fight a war he has no interest in joining (doesn't he have enough to worry about already?), and then the revelation that yes, yes he should in fact care about this revolution (life is never easy), and honestly, is it any wonder he's beginning to feel tired? Either way, this introduction has long since been forthcoming. He's wasted enough time absorbing the information; now is the time to act upon it.]

Exsilium. Latin, if I'm any judge. Easy enough to guess its meaning.

[A pause, and although it isn't visible, he's shaking his head. Now is not the time to muse.]

Where are my manners? Lelouch Lamperouge, student, although if we're to be working together in the capacity the information I've heard and read suggests, I ought to be more direct: I am a rebel, a leader, a commander—a strategist, if you're looking for a more—

...and also a silly boy.

[Said "silly boy" falters, obviously thrown, then after a second or so of silence—]

C.C, what are you—I told you not to—!

[ There are muffled sounds on the other end of the feed, the jostling of the tablet's camera, a flicking of a switch, and flashes of green hair and violet eyes before it comes to center on a pale, slender woman with an entrancing gaze. ]

What he means to say is that we're looking for assistance.

[ There’s an aggravated sigh from off-camera, practically a huff, and without a care for how it might interrupt the flow of the entry now, Lelouch mutters, ]

I was getting to that. If you could have just waited—

It's not important. Weren't you supposed to bring me a pizza an hour ago? Where is it?

Witch, I told you, I—

[ A loud yelp, and now C.C. is addressing her audience as a whole. ]

Call me C.C. I'm this one's [ a jerk of her head ] partner. You may contact either one of us if you've need of anything.

You're an embarrassment.

Likewise.

((ooc; Joint intro with Lelouch in purple and C.C. in green. Lelouch has also changed his visible name thing (I am the most technical) to "Lelouch Lamperouge" rather than "Lelouch vi Britannia" and will continue to do so until further notice. C.C. has no actual name, but will show up as "C.C." Expect both to be replying, but please do specify to whom your character is replying if you have a specific preference. Do note, however, that either or both may or may not be looking over the other’s shoulder during responses. Because. What is personal space. Yeah. And yes they are rooming together. Thank you!

ETA: Oh, and responses may come as a 1/2 and 2/2 because of the dual nature of this intro with 1/2 probably being Lelouch and 2/2 probably being C.C. Depends on who's faster.))

[Koltira's at his lake, seated comfortably on a frozen platform in the center of the water. He's half-dressed in armor--no breastplate, pauldrons, or gauntlets, but he's got greaves on his crossed legs. Otherwise, he's wearing a simple, black tunic with a high collar and long sleeves. Byfrost is visible behind him, stuck in the ice and surrounded by a black, animated miasma. His bright, cold eyes are intensely focused on the tablet and whomever he might be reaching with it, and his manner and bearing are as stoically formal as ever.]

In Azeroth, there is a celebration called Hallow's End. I know similar events are common on Earth and perhaps elsewhere, but the holiday had specific, unique meanings for us. Recently, for example, free undead used Hallow's End to commemorate breaking the Lich King's shackles on their souls.

[he grins here, though it's slight and pained, before continuing.]

But prior to that, the humans of my world took it as a period of reflection. They built an effigy, a wicker man, and they participated in a simple ritual. Each of them took up a torch, lit it on a bonfire, and then tossed it onto the dry straw. The burning torch represented the past: memories, anxieties, worries, burdens. By throwing the torch onto the effigy, they let go of their troubles, so as to more easily face the future.

I am not suggesting that the past is so easily cleansed. I know full well that it is not. But I find the ritual worthwhile. It is a moment's peace. A meditation. And it is something I could well use. Perhaps some of you feel the same.

In any case, though the traditional days for this event passed while we were preoccupied, I intend to build the wicker man. If you'd like to help with the burning, you may visit me in a week's time.

[Directions to an area somewhat south of his lake, but still in the clearing, follow. After that, there's quiet for a few moments, then some irritated button-tapping ... this guy just doesn't know how to use his tablet. Finally, he sighs, and adds.]

Chloe, I shall begin work on your necklace shortly. Please bring me a hair tie.

[There is not much that outright startles Utena nowadays — she's fairly accustomed to the unusual and bizarre (and more importantly, used to rationalizing it), but the weeks since her arrival in this place have been a trial by fire, so to speak.

But she's adjusted, the best she can, and so when her comm device video flickers on, she looks to be in good spirits, all things considered. That is, if her viewers can actually see her. The video appears to be moving erratically. Often, Utena dips out of sight, only to be seen again. It's at an odd angle too, as if the device has been set on the ground, and is tilted slightly to the side.

It probably has a lot to do with the fact that she's doing lunges. In her assigned room. It's not a lot of space, but apparently she's making due. She stops long enough to address her (assumed) audience.]

Hi, everyone. [The device is lifted, and for a moment there's nothing but flashes of bright pink hair before her face appears — friendly, but a little tired.] I've met some of you already, but I haven't said hello on this thing yet. There's a lot of people listening to this, right? Um, I guess not everyone's "people," though, so maybe that's not the right word. Is it rude to say "people" then? If there's a better word, I want to know it. [She frowns, befuddled. Interspecies communication is a new thing for her, obviously.] My name's Tenjou Utena — er, Utena Tenjou. That's the order most of you would say it in. I'm from Japan; is anyone else from there? Or...er...Earth? I've been here for weeks now, and I'm still sorta getting used to this place. Those monsters from before...I've never seen anything like that.

[She looks troubled and shifts into a contemplative silence, but something else comes to mind that makes her brighten up.] I'm pretty glad it's over. Say, is there anything to do around here besides training? Does anyone play a sport?

[A sigh. She stretches an arm behind her head.] I could really go for a basketball game...or baseball.

Hello, network. I am Leliana, for all the new people here and those that do not remember.

One of my favorite preoccupations is storytelling. That is, listening to stories and telling them. I've been wondering...

A lot of us come from different places, yes? Different places mean different cultures, and to get to my point, different stories. I don't know if there is a collection of some sort, or if this has been asked before, but I want to listen to fables, myths or legends of all sorts from your homelands, if you will indulge me. That way, I can spread these marvelous stories in my travels if/when I get back to Thedas.

If you're more of the listening sort, I will be more than happy to relay stories from where I came from.

[Terms like 'down time' and 'free time' were somewhat of a foreign concept to Samus up until only a few days ago. Between bombing and catacombing and Mongolian battling and Monster slaying, and then believing it some imperative duty to patrol around the Hold in-between those times like an armored guard dog set on (well justified) high alert, she's not given herself much of a moment to relax. Samus has, however, has made it a point to become in need of a good shower very acquainted with the tablet-formerly-netbook device, and especially appreciates the recent upgrade. Her technology is still far more advanced than the tiny little device, but it suits its purpose well enough.

Much the same, she's made it suit her purposes, if literally. The particularly astute will recognize this video feed is coming from the forearm of this person, fixed in place as if it's just another part of them.

"Person" is a generous term--what's being displayed could be more accurately described as a orange suit of armor from the torso up, heck, maybe even some kind of space robot with how distinctive it looks. (Though, there's also something very organic about the suit, like it were a second skin in some parts.) The voice is quite muffled under the helmet and opaque green visor--to the point of questionably androgyny.]

...

[It's a very talkative robot person. A damage report seems utterly moot.]

More Transports and more Exiles. It really is a testament to how miserable this place can be when the island population never seems to grow despite that. Some of the new arrivals seem... ill.

[Then again, if the last mission was any indication time can change anything, can't it...?]

I suppose an overdue introduction is in order. Here's my resume for what it's worth. Take it or leave it.

( [ UPLOADING ENCRYPTED DOCUMENT. . . ] )

[ACTION for el residentes of unit 406]
[KNOCK KNOCK. HONEY, I'M HOME. Actually Samus might have let herself in and out of here previously just to quickly use the shower, chances are when no one, or Maya was present so no time paradoxes happen and saying nothing more than 'hi' and 'bye' before leaving as quickly as she came.

But now, running ragged, Samus thinks she is ready to give this... roommate thing a real try. It couldn't be worse than the fiasco in Adam's place, or sleeping outside in the dirt another night, could it? Hopefully her roommates are ready to give the big armored person standing at the door a try too.]

[OPEN ACTION]
[When not needed Samus is an elusive creature, but the towering armored person can be found especially if your name is Mia patrolling around the Initiative Hold and in the city--there's still plenty for Samus to explore, being here only a little over a month now.]

Well, that was something of an adventure! Between the Russians, the newest arrivals, and our monstrous friends, why there's been quite a few things to keep track of. An awful lot of people. One of which in particular I seem to have misplaced... I don't suppose anyone has seen Bela lately? Bela Talbot?

[ A pause, as if he's actually listening for a reply. Or maybe just asking a completely rhetorical question and taking a moment to gather himself afterward. ]

Well, it was always difficult to keep her in just one place. Not like Sierra, Annalise, and Adamo, three natives caught by the UE bombs, near a month ago now. I would say they were entirely too — too stationary. That old woman in the market, too— with the jerky stand? She always claimed it was dog meat, but I really had to wonder. But she always had a kind word for anyone who stopped to chat, didn't she? I found a bit of her stand some time ago, but no sign of her. Maggie, she told me her name was...

My apologies, to anyone who knew any of those caught in disaster. At least we've managed to turn this latest one back to the status quo, mm? We have that much.

[ Another pause, and this one comes with a slow breath out. So... that's awkward. But! He can make it better. When he speaks again, he sounds just as cheerful as he had at the beginning. ]

You know, for all their flukes and faults, I would say there's one thing the Initiative is truly bad at. They can throw our lot into a room with food set out, but that's not any sort of party. So I propose we arrange one ourselves! We've the musicians for it, don't we? The cooks, surely! The tailors, seamstresses? We certainly have the headcount for it, by now!

Any opinions, mm? I'm thinking, perhaps, a masquerade. A ball! We kitrites excel at the organization of them, you know. I would be pleased to offer my services to a properly interested crowd! Have I any takers?

Whoa, hey uh... Is this thing on?

[Eddie's face fills the screen for a moment before he pulls the device back, giving the viewer a clear shot of the word "SUCCORIA" on his t-shirt, as well as a badge that reads "Ironheade" in bold white letters against a black background, and above it is a sword pointing down into a pattern of rocks similar to Stonehenge. The badge itself is dangling from a lanyard, and is intertwined with a rather large fang dangling from a black cord draped around Eddie's neck.]

Right, cool. So they brought me up to speed on the kinda shit you guys have been dealing with. The good news? I'm throwing my hat in the ring with you guys. Name's Eddie, Eddie Riggs. I'm a roadie. If you're wondering what the bad news is, well, the bad news is they didn't bring the rest of the army with me, but don't you guys worry about that!

Trust me, we'll have this under control in no time, we just need some good music, scrap metal, and some willing hands to help me work on some projects once I got my shit in order over here.

So what do you say, guys? How about we give this rebellion a bit more Rock?

[While he waits for people to chime in, he's going to alternate between reading his tour book, tuning his guitar, and looking over the edges of his battle axe.]

[As the screen flicks on the Tenth Doctor gives a mock grimace, rubbing the side of his neck as if unsure about something.] So, a big war? Really? I'm not too sure on that one. Guess that depends on the dimension? Though if they'd been around all this time I'm sure someone would have noticed... Oh right, of course- silly me. I got distracted.

[Not that the Doctor looks very sorry or concerned about it as he gives the screen a wave.]

Hullo everyone. I'm the Doctor and I guess I'm the newest guest in your little community. I have everything I need apparently, my housekey, a netbook, good things. I wouldn't mind my sonic screwdriver but that is a bone of contention I'm not going to get into for a while. At least five minutes anyway. Can't seem to find it....

I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor before anyone asks. Aaaaaand yep. That's about it. I'm not really good at blogging. Nice little communications system this place has going though! Wouldn't mind a look at that, though that would require my sonic screwdriver.

[At that the Doctor pauses, looking at his wrist.]

Okay I lied, that was two minutes tops. Law of averages says that if I'm here, there'll be people I know here. So speak up or forever hold your peace! Or just say hello later on, that's alright too I guess..... hm. Right then. Time to have a look around this place, take a look at what's going on with my own two eyes. Alons-y!

[There's another pause as the Doctor reaches into his pocket, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and grinning at it.]

Ah there you are. No longer a bone of contention now!

[HERE'S MS. NO-NONSENSE THEIRIN PUTTING ON HER BEST MAC TIR FACE Maker it's scary how easily she can project her father sometimes addressing the camera with a rather serious expression. it's obvious this is directed at a specific someone...shame she doesn't know how to private conversations.]

With the monsters gone, I suppose I can finally ask something that has been needling my mind for a few weeks now.

[she leans forward, a demanding look in her eyes.]

When shall I be seeing my third roommate back in his rightful, assigned home, Bariyan? I have been told that he seemed awfully receptive to Alistair's invitation, so why is it that after he discussed it with you he suddenly became less inclined to return?

I certainly hope the boy hasn't been fed lies in an attempt to keep him in your possession, Bariyan.

[ While technically Lucy was still beaten and battered herself, she wasn't so out of it as to avoid a fight. Er... if the fight came to her, anyway. The food from the banquet had helped a little, but her magic reserves were still fairly low - low enough that she wasn't actively looking to get into any trouble her first day in such a weird place. However there is one thing that is more important than all of that, which is why she sends a message through the network. ]

Nn - is this right? Looks like it's recording - I mean, broadcasting. It looks like the communication lacrima back home, ne Plue?

[ Though her companion can't be seen, her companion can be heard. ]

Pun~~! Pun pun~ Pun~!


[ Lucy grins towards the ground, where her companion presumably is and turns her attention to the feed. She's cleaned up a bit, at least, and is cautiously making her way towards the apartments - keeping an eye out for things that go bump in the night. Or in general. Bandages are wrapped around her forehead and her arms, but she still smiles hopefully. ]

If you can hear me, my name is Lucy, and I'm... I'm hoping that some friends of mine might be here as well. I didn't see them when I arrived, but they're the type that won't sit around in one place for long, in a situation like this. [ With monster infestations and all. ]

Specifically I'm looking for my teammates, Natsu, Gray, Erza, or Wendy - even Happy or Charle. Anyone from Fairy Tail, will do-! [ She can't be the only one here right? ]

... aside from that - [ She murmurs more quietly at this point, frowning a bit. ]

Is it always like this here? [ At that point, her companion pipes up again. ]

Pun~ pun pun~ PuuuN~!

I'm fine Plue - actually I'd love nothing more than to take a hot bath and sleep for a week. But let's see if the others are here first, okay?

Pun~!

[ You can't see it, you poor deprived souls, but Plue just saluted. It was adorable. ]

[ beep beep beep beep beep--

Riku's just hard at work typing on the new tablet. his face is the empitome of concentration--and then, as he moves the screen, the tablet boots up a holographic function. he jolts slightly as he looks at it, glares, and clicks out of it.

beep beep beep beep beep, moving--

it happens again. ]

Seriously?

[ Exit Window.

beep beep--

third time. Riku just stares right through the holographic window, then flickers his eyes up straight into the camera, noticing that it's... recording... ]

Couldn't they fix the recording problem?

[ ugh. ]

This could be United Earth spying. They could've just fixed the security on the old computers.

... [ now that he's recording and obviously broadcasting, though-- ]

Anyone having problems with their new stuff?

[ the post starts with a view of pointy, shark-like teeth, before it suddenly cuts off and there's some fumbling before finally

tyrian pink text starts appearing on the screen. ]

ok
what the glubbin fuck is goin on
38o

[He doesn't particularly want to make this post, but he's aware that it's necessary. His voice and expression don't betray his inner exhaustion--they don't betray much of anything, really, given the unknowable glow of his eyes--but rest assured that he's ready to lock himself away and not emerge for quite some time. He'd done all he could, and none of it had mattered. The child was dead; Bariyan had run off. Koltira's heart is a shard of ice.

His words are short, calm and deliberate.]

The business with Martin Darkov is finished. You need not concern yourselves over the matter any longer.

[ooc: despite his tone, he's angry/tired/frustrated/etc PICK A NEGATIVE EMOTION and it's swirling around in him at present, so responses may cut off abruptly/not happen/etc.]