[Hello! It's been awhile since he's done one of these, but in the spirit of a new year, and the love of everything he's had to drink, Cailan thinks this is a great time to show everyone something he's been working on for awhile. Hence why he has the biggest, brightest smile on his face.]

Back in Ferelden, there are some celebrations to bring in the new year. But not as many as you would think! None to the extent of the celebrations here, in this place. I found, while being dragged on an excursion to many different bars, that there are many who do not watch out for the perils of such a place. [And he really does not want anyone to get hurt, here.]

And truly, there are some terrible things in this world that, if you are not vigilante, will harm you, or your loved ones, in many ways. As we all know, most of the people here are not from the same world. And even if they are, they could be of a different race entirely. As king of my homeland, I feel it is my duty to ensure, not just the safety of my subjects, but those who may not be able to protect themselves. The best way to do this is to impart knowledge. Knowledge, my friends, is the first step in protecting yourself! And so, to start off the new year, I will be sharing what I know to everyone about...

Werewolves. [He is deadly serious.]

( OOC cut for length, details about werewolves under the cut! )

voice;

Money in cards and saying me rifle’s been changed.

[ Except that’s not actually how he says it, it’s more like: munneh in cards and sayin’ me rifle’s been changed. Sheffield, Yorkshire haunts the streets of Exsilium now, thanks to one Richard Sharpe. ]

The only cards I know of are those given by weasely merchants looking ta fleece more money out of you. But you ain’t asking for money, are you? Yer asking me to fight with me blood and sweat, and you ain’t even decent enough to give me a half-ration of rum, or even a proper King’s shilling.

[ Thud. The sound of rifle on stone ground. There’s a soft shuffling sound and tapping of fingers on the screen of the tablet. The video switches on. ]

video;

Me name’s Richard Sharpe. [ Blond hair, green eyes, a scar on his upper left cheek. His lips are twisted into a scowl, and at the edge of the screen, you can see the edge of his Rifleman’s jacket. Have a picture.

If you met him during the masquerade, he's a lot cleaner now. Face-wise anyway. You can actually see what he looks like underneath the layers of dirt, and his hair isn't just a layer of dust anymore. ]

If yer name's Patrick Harper, I suggest you get yer arse over here before I shoot it off you.

[The video clicks on to show one of the streets scattered around Exsilium, the camera panned slightly upward, and it is half-covered by an oily black hand. After a few seconds it tilts down to reveal the owner of the hand, a woman with very blue skin, her eyes slightly narrowed in thought but her expression amused, her black hair half falling over her face and half held away by a series of small red clips. Behind her head appears to be four oily black tentacles that writhe faintly as she moves. The top of her clothing, visible around her neck, appears to be shifting against her skin as well.]

[She’s gliding along, but she slows to a stop as she studies the camera, and after a few seconds seems to realize that it’s transmitting.]

Hmm. They did say people could hear me…[Her voice is absent-minded, but when she speaks again it is stronger, more direct.] Hello out there, people of the future? Or the past. Whatever.

[She shrugs and her gaze shifts away again, looking at the buildings she’s passing, and she speaks as she begins moving again.] Eddie told me about his time, but I was expecting something…grander, I guess. I know there’s a war going on but this place looks like it was designed by someone who never even heard of music. I mean, really, narrow buildings, straight streets, everything is so…utilitarian.

[She says the word like she doesn’t even like the way it sounds.]

Where’s the soul? Where’s the music? This place is supposed to be awesome, it’s not even managing boring. I’ve barely arrived and I already think most of it is tedious.

[The background changes as she enters the apartment buildings, hunting for the one that was apparently 'hers.' She's never had an apartment before, this could be interesting.]

Anyway. I'm Ophelia. The pleasures all yours, trust me. I'd tell you about myself but apparently nothing from back home matters here. A clean slate. It's sort of appealing. And a little depressing. And kind of boring.

But hey, free reign to do what I want, right? [She glances down at the camera again and smirks an almost malicious smirk.] This should be fun.

[Click.]

( Action for two dorky teenage boy roommates. )

[Congratulations, Exsilium, you are now privy to a very close up view of the Avatar's nose for a good ten seconds before she pulls back and faces the camera with a grin.]

Got it. [Throat clear.] So hi. Welcome to the new guys and girls... and other things. You'll find there are some weird things here, but friendly faces are not in short supply, no matter how many eyes they have. It's pretty neat, actually.

I'm Korra, and this-- [camera moves to show a rather large dog/bear hybrid, then back to Korra] -- is Naga. She's a polar bear dog, and we're from a pretty neat world where some people can control an element. That's called bending. It takes a while to master, but it's totally worth it. If you ever wanna see, let me know; it'll be awesome.

Anyway, I want to hear about what your worlds are like, what people or creatures can do there. We're supposed to work together, so getting to know each other's a step in the right direction.

[She pauses, then smirks.] And if anyone wants to spar, I'll be more than happy to oblige.

[Adrasteius glares into the feed, adjusting it occasionally as he talks. The tablet is the strangest excuse for a scrying device he's ever seen, and he has little faculty with its functions.

The viewer sees a short, unnaturally thin elf, wearing richly colored robes with fingerless gloves. His long ears twitch constantly, and his blazing green eyes have no discernible pupils--though the direction of his stare is generally obvious. Bright red, violently glowing tattoos are visible across his neck and collarbone, and this glow seems to intensify as he speaks--rather, howls--into the feed.]

Tell me something. Is there a goddamn church around here somewhere? A man has needs, you know? SPIRITUAL NEEDS. What I'm saying is, I want to pray, and I want to do so in a holy house. I realize that we are all trapped in a Light-forsaken wasteland, but surely some people here still have religion? Yes?

[This is the first time Yue's even bothered to begin messing with this thing since her arrival. Her roommates in 405 likely notice a few things - one, they have a new roommate and two, that roommate must enjoy a lot of food. Seriously, there seems to always be food leftover near the stove. It's all neatly put up and most of it involves dumplings somehow.

This is one night when she's returned from training. And when the video pops up, it's...

Well, it's a bear. A panda, to be exact, with bright green eyes and long, slightly damp hair. The rest of her fur looks like it's trying to decide if it wants to fluff out or not. There's a slight accent to her voice as she talks.]

Let's see, let's see... ah, there, working!

[That brightens her up. There's the slightest of accents to her voice as she speaks.]

Much more efficent than letters. We should really have these back home, it would save so much time. And travel! I can't count the number of people who send me here or there or over there with a letter. A letter! What are the mailboxes for then!

[Huffpuff, she still can't get over that. It's not very efficient. Not that the Wandering Isle had the best postal system ever.

Whatever. She waves it off quickly to add:]

I'm Yue Hua. If you're hungry, stop and see me sometime. I'm usually training but I can always stop for a snack.

[Or five.]

[GUESS WHO'S BEING AWKWARD OVER THE NETWORK AGAIN, DINGDING YOU ARE CORRECT. Johnny hates asking for help. Hates it. But he's at a loss here.]

So, uh. I need someone's help with somethin'. I don't expect anyone to volunteer for this. I mean, I sure as hell wouldn't but I dunno how else to do this shit. Maybe, like, I can get a volunteer and someone else can play ref...

Anyway. Um. So this place let me keep the power I used to have, except they made it suck less. Thing is, I still don't know how to use it too well, an' it ain't like a physical weapon I can just go and train with. Basically I... talk people into doin' stuff. All I gotta do is look at 'em and talk to 'em, and they'll pretty much do whatever I say. Least, that's how it used to go. I dunno how strong it is, what people will or won't do, things like that. And I kinda wanna know, in case I ever, ya know, need to use it against the "bad guys", I guess.

...

Now ya know why no one's gonna volunteer. But if anyone's got any suggestions, lemme know?

[Meg is somewhere in the underground. Hard to tell since it all pretty much looks the same. She's sitting against a wall and looks bored. A knife is held and she's using the point to very carefully scrape some grit from underneath her fingernails.

Well, this is tons of fun. I can't even tell you how much fun I'm having.

[Nothing but sarcasm, as usual.]

Least the ground stopped shaking, but how long do we have to sit around down here?

I don't suppose anyone brought some boardgames with them? Candyland? Chutes and Ladders? Monopoly? Twister, anyone?

 [the feed is inconsistent throughout this transmission, particularly the visuals, which cut out at random intervals, followed by brief audio feedback.  Koltira kneels beside a couple of bodies, and he's holding the netbook so as to provide a clear view of their still, open-eyed faces.  The edges of his cloak are visible, as well; he has placed it over them like a temporary shroud, as his purpose here is not to show off trophies of war.  Several other figures stand near the bodies; one is Emma Frost, in her diamond form, arms crossed over her chest.  Tier Halibel is an active blur, still battling ground troops.]

Exsilium, I have something to show you.

[A clawed, armored hand gestures to the men on the ground.  They are exactly, eerily alike in form and detail, with unnerving, milky-blue eyes and sharp, attractive features--high cheekbones, strong jaws, perfectly and scientifically symmetrical.  Both of the men have black hair, neatly cut; they are twin to one another in every way, like mass produced mannequins.]

These are the faces beneath the masks.  Acquaint yourselves.

[the feed becomes even more unstable.  The last image it catches before cutting out entirely is that same armored hand, passing over both men's faces, shutting their eyes with surprising, solemn gentleness.  Koltira doesn't hate these men: it's clear that they are just tools, prefabricated slaves created for the UE's use, and he knows more than a little something of that.]

[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?