[So... arriving here was a shock enough. Now... she's still struggling to absorb everything she's learned. It's so overwhelming, really. And Xion is not comfortable at all with just... putting her face and her voice and herself in general out there, but she has several questions and nobody she knows nearby to ask. So, text it is]

So we can't go home until we help the Initiate win this war? What if we've never fought in a war before? Why do they choose who they do?

I'm sorry if that's a lot of questions. I just don't understand what's going on. [Or why they picked her]

Is there any way of telling if there's anyone you know here?

[It seems like that's it, but at that moment, Xion slips in a puddle in the real world and nearly drops the tablet, fumbling with it and accidentally activating the video feed. It shows a small hooded girl, though her face is difficult to see. She seems to stare at a moment at the feed in surprise before she mutters "Sorry", and a hand clutching the bow she got when she arrived reaches up and clicks it off again]

[ It has been a while or maybe not, but when the feed clicks on - and it's never an accident with this man - what comes up is a close-up of a cup with a milky liquid and a couple of rolls. The rolls look fresh, the liquid looks sort of like skim milk. Some where in the background, Takegami sighs and there's his hand in view, picking up the cup out of camera range. ]

Sake wa hyakuyaku no cho...

[ The cup reappears and is refilled. Takegami toys with the cup and then starts speaking in English. ]

They say that sake was first made when a warrior tried to save his bride from a dragon. In order to lure him away, the warrior took rice and fresh spring water and boiled it together until sake was made. The dragon grew intrigued by the smell and came to sip the brew. While the dragon drank his fill, the warrior and bride were reunited. The dragon was so sated by the sake that he did not give them chase and the couple was able to live peacefully for all their lives.

[ Again the cup disappears as there is a pause in the narrative. The cup is set down with a sharp click and is refilled, and again a pause in-between cupfuls. Takegami's fingers are covered with half-healed scratches, his nails cut short, and the rings on each finger twisted into fine knots. ]

It is the drink of new beginnings and of fond farewells. We drink it under the cherry trees in spring, we bring the finest brew for the newly weds to drink on their first night, and we drink it for births and to celebrate those that had passed before us. There are holidays where we would crack open the barrels it seeps in, there are holidays where we toast the new-born sun. Some medicines are made more potent by soaking in it, and it always with good cheer we raise a cup to each other over our evening meals.

[ The cup is raised out of sight once more and he sighs softly. ]

A pity it is so hard to find here.



[ooc; Japanese proverb is 'Sake is the best of all medicines' ]

[The video switches on easily to show Isa looking at the screen, more or less expressionless.]

Nice kidnappers we've got here. They provide weapons, lodgings, and computers so we can communicate. Probably would've been nicer if they'd asked before the whole kidnapping thing, though.

[A slight smile appears on his face, then disappears almost as quickly.]

I've got a question. Do these things save conversations? It seems like that could be useful. You know, so we could all relive the complete lack of an explanation we got when we arrived.

Anyway. Looks like this is gonna be quite an adventure.

I'm Isa.

[ 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. ]

[ Here's Martin, looking prim and proper with a new set of robes, sitting at a desk stacked with books. His tone is no non-sense, lacking its usual congeniality, utterly sanitized. ] Forgive me for not personally welcoming you, new arrivals. My name is Martin Septim and I, together with John Watson, run the transport clinic in this Hold.

If you're a healer, either through magical or mundane means, we're always in need of help. Speak with John or I to set up an interview.

And for those of who you were unsettled [ An understatement, but Martin keeps his composure, although there's a tinge of regret in his words. ] by my actions and words last time I spoke through this network, please don't worry about me. It is under control.

Thank you for your time.

[ He's sort of holding up a toaster oven but he sets it down pretty quickly. ]

I've got one appliance that takes a little too much glee in burning shit, and what looks like a maudlin blender. Who wants in on this?

[ He's also set up some programs to just sort of trawl the network constantly for various things. One is the word 'pie'. Another is encrypted messages not encrypted enough to be completely hidden from him. Casual re-pimp of permissions. So, yes. Both of these wouldn't be immediately noticed without someone else doing some sort of tracking of their own.

aka: Tony is bored. watch out ]

[ the video feed flickers on, and a young man sits at a desk. On it, there's a paintbrush, a small canvas and a set of watercolors. None of them have been touched, but the young man's fingers keep flexing around the brush. ]

I'm...not sure why I'm here. [ he slowly clears his throat, staring not at the feed but at the brush ] My only guess is they saw something they liked on the footage. [ a finger twitches against the brush ] But...I am pretty sure I have other ideas this time.

[ he looks up ]

That person you saw in the Games and the interviews wasn't me. Not the me that I remember, anyway. So if that's what you were expecting, I apologize. I'm not here to fight. You don't want me fighting.

[ there's the sound of a sharp crack as the paintbrush snaps in half. It begins to reform itself ]

My name's Peeta Mellark, and I'm going to sit this one out.

[ 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.

[Turns it on, spends a few more seconds than most woud checking that the screen is on, admiring that it actually works.]

Am I broadcasting? If I am great, if not, I'll just be talking to myself. Which, would not be a far from normal occurrence let me tell you.

[He clears his throat, and continues.]

Let me tell you a story, of a tired guy, just trying to get come sleep in his uncomfortable cot in the middle of a war zone. Then suddenly the guy is transported to some strange place where a weird lady tells him he's supposed to help save mankind. Or some such drivel.

Well, my friends, that guy would be me. Unfortunately.

Then to add insult to injury, she hands me a gun. When I tell her I don't do guns, she hands me a sword.

[His eyes boggle, in that way that only Hawkeye can pull off.]

Anyone want to explain why I have ladies, not  those of the lake variety, handing me swords and telling me I'm in the future? Because, right now?  I'm thinking Korea has finally driven me round the bend.

[ Hello, fellow transports. Tonight when you check your networks, enjoy a look at one of your newest, a serious-looking man (flippy blond hair notwithstanding) with a politely neutral expression. ]

If it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to ask a few questions. While the woman providing the introductions was enthusiastic enough, her explanations were somewhat lacking. For instance, how many people are here in Exsilium right now, and how many are fellow transports? I understand there's a war going on - in that case, what kind of organized armed forces exist in this city? I'd assume there's a system in place to protect civilians or those unwilling to fight, but [ a bit of that politeness slips out of his tone ] please correct me if something so obvious hasn't been attended to.

[ He reaches to turn off the feed, but pauses as if remembering something, and straightens again with a friendlier look and a half self-deprecating sort of tone (all affected of course, with the ease of someone used to putting on a public face). ]

My apologies, it's rude to ask questions without giving any answers. My name is Barnaby Brooks Jr. Additionally, I'd like to hear from anyone familiar with me, whether personally or from Hero TV.

[ The feed flickers on to show a young man adjusting the angle, having clearly propped the device against something, before running long fingers through blonde curls and pushing out a breath - a clear sign of irritation. Though his face might look familiar to some. ] Right, so am seriously expected to believe the utter rubbish some woman in purple - who's clearly a bit delusional, by the way - told me about this place?

[ There's a grimace crossing his sharp features, and a brow lifts. He's clearly skeptical, cynical even, as gears turn to make any sense of this. ] So, let me see if I'm getting all this right: assuming it was possible - which it's not - but assuming it was, I was somehow thrown over a thousand years forward into what year? 3312? Given a weapon and now am - what? Expected to fight in some war, is that it?

[ A glare. ] I'm sorry, but that's really not how it works.

[ He's sighing again, but it's more clearly resembling a frustrated growl as he pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily, gaze flickering back to the screen. ] This is just. Unbelievable. I can't - I need to get back to Ystad. I have cases to handle, I can't be here, wasting my time in this sh-

[ He cuts himself off; he didn't have anything nice to say anyway. ] Look. If anyone can actually tell me how I could get back or anything actually helpful, that would be, you know, great.

[ And there's a click, and the video ends. ]

[Long time no speak, Exsilium.

Johanna's clicking on the voice feed to ask an important question. For those of you who have spoken to her before, you can tell her tone is lacking its usual bite, colored by exhaustion.]

We got any useful people with powers out there? Ones that aren't all talk and whine.

[There's a scratching sound and an lengthy yawn.]

This rain has gone on long enough.

[There's an audible tapping while Alvin configures his netbook, though the video feed doesn't flicker on just yet. He's debating whether to stick to audio and simply jump straight to video. He's been around for ten days, but decided against introducing himself. At least until he's made certain nobody from his home world is present.

After snooping around old network posts however, he's rather certain nobody he knows is here, and that's why the video finally clicks on. There's a man sitting on the other side of the feed, brown hair, a friendly smile. Maybe some of you have spoken to him already.]

Wow, time sure does fly here. Think it's about time I formally introduced myself. I'm Alvin. [He salutes, smile widening.] Worked as a mercenary back where I originally came from. Guess those're skills that'll be put to good use at some point, huh?

I've got a fair enough idea of how things work around here. The last place I was at expected outsiders to fight their war too. Think I kinda like this place better though. I mean, unless the sun and moon have faces on them here, too.

[There's a momentary pause and Alvin goes over what he'd just said, his eyes darting off screen for several moments.] They don't, right?

[Because uhh, yeah, it was creepy.]

  Oh, bugger me.

[Hello, network. That little statement is followed by a serious case of shaky cam as the comm is literally shaken a bit at various angles. You know. Just in case this is a defective portkey in disguise or something.]

Heard rumors about a hidden swimming pool in the dungeons- bunch of bunk that was- but I’d have sworn on Merlin’s double-cursed split-ends we’d found every hidden nook in the school. Now- now I find a...what? A time door? A space portal? The bleeding future? And not even proper magic to it. No way. Stumbling in on strange, impossible places is more the terrific trio’s area.

[The camera goes blurry again as George tosses the camera in the air and catches it with a disbelieving exhale of breath. The door to his new room is momentarily visible in the blur. Looks like he's at least managed to make it that far.

When he talks again his voice is softer.]

Blimey. S’no fun exploring alone. 

[[ooc: George is about to head into the door to his room while he chats. If either of his roommates or anyone else outside the living area want to jump in with action, that is super cool with me]]

[The feed clicks on. For a moment there's silence, just dead air, and then Rin laughs. It's short and shrill and cut off fast. Not a happy noise, even if there is amusement in it.]

... Oh my God. [Laughing again, marginally more stable this time.]

Well. This isn't so bad.

Hello! My name is Rin. Asano Rin, just Rin is fine. I guess I'm going to be fighting with all of you now? What's the deal with the weapons anyhow? How sentient are they?

I'd like to find someone to train me in swordwork if you don't mind. The trainer, that is. And someone who can teach me some field medicine, that would be good too. I don't know what I can do if you want payment but I'm all right with negotiating. What's a day like here anyway? When we're not training?

[She almost asks if anyone here recognizes her, and then catches her breath and doesn't. They'll come to her probably, when they hear her, if they're there. No need to broadcast everything.]

... Pleased to meet you all.

[The video shows the interior of a bedroom in one of the housing units, and a conservatively dressed woman in late middle age who is fiddling one-handed with the netbook and muttering to herself as she does so. Her accent is worn-down and of indeterminate European origin, more a matter of cadence and word order than any distinctive pronunciation.]

Ach, there we are. Such a contraption.

[Maria steps back from the netbook a bit, enough to show that she leans heavily on a forearm crutch for support. She props the other hand on her hip in a somewhat belligerent pose as she speaks, addressing the camera directly.]

So. The local fellows here give me to understand that what they want is help with their resistance, and it's for this reason they snatched me and all you other people up to this future of theirs. It's a very nice offer and I'm sure we should all be flattered to be so important to the cause, not to mention to have an unannounced trip to this rainy God-only-knows-where with all the expenses paid.

[Her expression should make it exquisitely clear that she considers this to be an enormous annoyance, to put it politely.]

But in my experience causes usually are a messy business, particularly when they resort to wars to do the sorting-out, and I'm in no shape these days to be running about battlefields.

So. Maria is my name, Maria Gordon, and what I would like to know is, who's in charge of the ones who do the patching-up of the people who do the revolutioning? Because I should like to volunteer for that. God knows I'm more use at doctoring than I am at most things, these days.

[She drums her fingertips against her side, thinking for a moment.]

Secondly, and besides that, who knows directions from the housing to the nearest pub?

[She looks nervous, black hair and blue eyes, dressed in a black coat.]

Those people, they helped me to figure this thing out. I told them that I just wanted to go back through the portal, but they said I couldn't. I don't really understand. If I can make my own portal, why can't I just go back? I didn't want to make one in front of other people, and everyone was getting shuffled around, so I just left...

They called this place Exsilium. Or was it Initiative? They said welcome to both, so I wasn’t sure. I didn't think that I would go to a new world, though. I didn't think I could go to anymore worlds at all. But...oh! They gave me a key. It's just a regular old key, though. Nothing special, I think.

They said that if I needed any help with the apartment place or anything, that I should let them know, but I. If I'm here, that means I failed. But I remember not failing, so how come I'm here? I’m worried that my friends won’t know I’m here. That I still exist.

I do exist now, right?