[the camera starts off upside down, before Tempest hisses out a curse and rights it. She briefly makes a face and pushes some hair out of her face - hair that is distinctly longer and a different, somewhat lighter color than the stark black it had been. Which . . . could explain why she's been MIA for the past two days, and why she looks confused at first]

Well, this is . . . hm. Odd. [she mutters just loud enough for the camera to hear] It really has been a while . . . .

Anyway, I've an offer and a request. I plan to do some hunting, so if anyone is in need of meat I would be more than willing to hunt a little extra. I am not looking to trade, though I will not say no to anyone who offers to.

As for my request, I am looking for someone familiar with . . . hm, symbols? Any kind. My thanks in advance.

Hi! Hi again, to people I know already, hello for the first time, to anyone I haven't met yet. I'm Ashraf Salib, one of the heads of the clinic, high priest, snazzy dresser… [ He waves a hand. ] General things like that.

So, I'll get straight to the point. In the wake of the mutiny, I've seen a lot of talk on the network that I haven't seen before. Establishing a code of conduct, uniting… there was even some discussion of who you personally look to as a leader. Whatever your opinion of the mutiny may be, you have to admit that it's sparked some new subjects for us. And I'd say they're things we've been needing to talk about.

It isn't just a matter of wresting control from the Initiative, I think that was overly hasty and shortsighted. I think what we should be looking at is how to take control of ourselves. We're a really big group up here, with over three-hundred of us. That's a lot of voices to be heard at once, especially when none of them have much in the way of a recognized authority.

So, I think that should change.

My suggestion would be a council, voted on by the entire Transport body from a number of nominations. The people that we most trust are the ones we should have speaking for us — deciding for us. Because someone needs to. That we're still locked in this base after over two months up here should be evidence enough that it's difficult to achieve much of anything with no one calling the shots.

I've got some specific ideas about the organization of this council, which I wrote down and can attach here, but I want to hear from you. How should we organize ourselves? How can we decide who to listen to? This won't work if we don't all agree to it, and we need to agree on something. We're in a precarious position up here that frankly can't last, and it's past time that we take it into our own hands to change that.

( Council Specifics )

[Sonya appears on the screen without her usual preambles or cheerful introductions. Her manner is very, very controlled. The casual Bronx vowels that occasionally creep into her speech are gone. The profanities are gone. Every once in a while, she glances down; this is a prepared statement.]

Earlier today, Jesse Pinkman snuck into one of the prisoner cells under false pretenses. He’d been friends with one of the mutineers before all of this happened, so he claimed to merely want to visit.

While he was in there, he mutilated this prisoner in spirit and soul. He ripped from her her ability, her inborn gift, to cast spells. He tore away from her something as vital to her as eyesight or touch might be for you. And did he did this to defend someone? To stop an attack or a threatened attack? No: he did it to punish her. To make her suffer. And then he said to her that this is how things are running now.

( fuzzy drama funny drama drama drama fuuuck (ps not an ic cut) )

( When she speaks, Collette aims to sound warm. She's tired, keyed up, and confused as well as trying to understand what's gone on since the mutiny began, and what's continuing in the aftermath. She brings a question she'd talked to Ros about, in her own way; something she wants to know very simply because she doesn't, and it's all the more important now.

Out of respect for that same woman, she keep's Ros's name out of this. )

When it comes down to do or die, who do you trust here to make decisions to pull people through, and not leave people stranded high and dry, or freeze up and fall into inaction? People who keep their temper in heated circumstances. Ones who maybe aren't going to forget the bigger picture, even if that doesn't make it easy on the smaller scale.

I've got a few names myself! Blue, Kate Kane, Nathan Summers, Caesar Silverberg, Lenalee Lee, Xerxes Break, Gilbert Nightray, Jaime Reyes, Ashraf, Kang, Peter Quill, Donny, Armin Arlert, Chrono and Rosette, even Dick Grayson and Ahiru and Vanadi, of all people, would stand by you figuring things out.

Those are some of mine. What're yours?

( I'm going to keep talking, though, so you might want to tune out if you don't want to hear me ramble about a few maybe important, maybe not things! )

Hello.

[On screen is a pleasant looking young woman with short blonde hair and red eyes that might be dimly glowing, or is that a trick of the light? Something about the way she's speaking - in a clear English accent - has the air of someone who's practiced this speech beforehand.]

My name is Seras Victoria, it's my first time addressing the network here so nice to meet you all.

I'd like to talk about another particular issue of resources on the moon, though this resource is er... a little different from the others.

Some of you may be aware that werewolves aren't the only supernatural creatures living among you. Some of us are vampires.

[She won't name any names, respecting the privacy of those who would rather not publically announce what they are.]

I'm asking if anyone here would be willing to volunteer to donate blood specifically for the vampire population. There would be no biting involved Jan and it would never more than once a week, depending on how many people volunteer.

[Seras smiles hopefully.]

I know it's possible that we could make a supply run to a hospital or blood bank somewhere using the transport system but I'd rather not take it from where it might damage lives. We could do with getting the medical equipment to collect and store the blood however. Bags and a fridge for example. If anyone with medical knowledge could help that would be appreciated.

To any other vampires out there, I know a couple of you but if you'd like to contact me, privately if you wish, to have access to whatever we manage to organise, please do.

[Added on later to the post]

Erm, when I said once a week, it would really be a month. My mistake.

[She looks tired, a little strung out, like she's sure most people do right now, but this is important, and it's important that people listen, which means she's using video, in the hopes it'll help make this message stick.

When she speaks, it's steady enough, though there's hints of worry and desperation in her tone, at times. Indications of how serious she's taking this, how hard it's hitting her.]

I know everything's a mess right now, but if you're seeing this, I need you to take the time to sit and listen, please, because I'm trying to help all of us and that won't work if everyone ignores me. Some of are probably going to hate me for this, but that's okay, as long as you keep listening while you hate me.

[a beat; a breath]

We're not abandoning the Exiles.

( this got long winded )

You know, my missus is very suspicious of me. She says that my eye wanders. Maybe she's right. [ He sighs, an overdramatic sigh, with his shoulders raising and falling. He does miss her, and it occurs to him in this moment just how much. ] Don't tell her I said this, but she usually is.

[ And then he straightens up and his expression levels. ]

The UE is authorizing their Black Code. By the end of the month— so a week, give or take. [ Nash doesn't quite know what this means, but the previous posts, and the way the UE talked about it, have given him an idea. He turns very grave, very quickly, and uses the tone of voice to order soldiers around. ]

I think we should evacuate as soon as possible. As many people as possible—

And I don't think we have much time for debate.

[ She's so not ready for making a video and putting it up here for the Transports to see...but this isn't the sort of thing you can just convey over text. This is actual important information she needs to share with them, frustratingly vague as it seems to be. ]

Hello Ex-Exsilum.

[ Perfect start. ]

My name is Charlie, Ch-Charlie Dyer. I was w-with the rescue g-group on the compound.

[ She stops there and takes a breathe. While she had some time to clean herself, she looks...well, beaten up, Even with long sleeves and jeans the darkening purple creeping up her neck and the cut over her left eyebrow make it obvious she got in one too many unfair fights. ]

I found something. It was be-being guarded, so I knew it w-was important. [ She holds the diamond storage device up for a moment. ] Had the Initiative p-people crack it. It has...um...

[ She puts the device down and picks a paper sheet up. ]

"A system of sch-schematics that show the breakdown of an un-unnamed event over the Island of Exsilium, including m-models tracking the presence of some element o-or another for fifty, one hundred, and two hundred years."

[ She puts the sheet down. ]

Wh-whatever it is, they're l-looking at us. B-been looking at the island f-for a while. Maybe th-this makes more sense to so-someone else here? A-anyway, that's that.

I n-need to sit down...

[ there's an awkward second of someone fumbling with the device. when scott steps back a second later, the reason's obvious: he's trying to get it to balance on his desk, giving a clear view of both him and isaac standing a few feet off. ]

Hey. My name's Scott. I was here once before, so I guess I don't really have any questions.

[ except for maybe why am i back, but he knows that'd just be wasting time. anyway, they're broadcasting for a reason, and that's not it. ]

I know stuff is really weird here, like angels and superheroes and shapeshifters, so I don't really get the point in— [ keeping secrets? that's pretty broad. he obviously didn't map this speech out, so rather than making more of a mess he just stumbles for the finish line. ] I'm a werewolf. If you have a problem with that, let me know.

[ there's no challenge in his tone. it sounds more like "sorry, but we can probably talk it out". he almost steps forward to end the feed there, catching himself abruptly to add: ]

Isaac too. [ And Isaac offers a casual little wave at that, in the midst of all his eyerolling at Scott's... presentation of sorts. Really, Scott. ]

People are missing and people are hurt, and we want to help, but we can't do anything if we're too busy hiding. [ which is the real point of this, except hold up, one last thing. ] And we know there's a full moon in a few days, but we aren't crazy and we won't hurt anyone.


( ooc: icly the day after the party/kidnappings. all dialogue is scott's because isaac is rude, but replies will come from one or both! )

I'd put up a video, but I don't think I'm quite ready for Youtube stardom.

Anyway, if anyone's in need of professional military training, I'm not your best candidate, but I can give some pointers. Show you how to shoot. You could say this shit's the only stuff I'm good for, so I might as well put it to good use.

[The feed cut--though, Tim realized this was totally incomplete. He came back with an addendum the post.]

I forgot. I'm Tim Gutterson--U.S. Marshal and former Army Ranger. On top of teachin', feel free to hit me up if you're in trouble.

[ so baby's gone. the one person she had any kind of rapport with. sweet pea doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry. she had done a bit of both and wondered when the hell she turned into such a sensitive flower.

baby's departure doesn't mean shit in the long run. sweet pea's still here and she still needs to get back, though it seems more and more like she should only wait until she is sent back—because she has to be. she cannot entertain another thought.

but it's only now hitting her how very alone she is. no family, no friends. no rocket, no baby, not even amber or blondie. she keeps to her room, cleaning her weapons. when she feels in control, she turns on the tablet. ]

Babydoll's gone. [ sweet pea manages to keep a brisk tone of voice. it's even convincing. ] She said she'd had some things going with some of you. Whatever it was, let me know and I'll do my best to hold up her end of the bargain.

[ a little pause. her otherwise professional veneer cracks. ]

If you didn't meet her, you missed your fucking chance.


( ROBB )

[ There's a head of vividly red hair on the video feed this afternoon, and it belongs to one surprisingly unsurprised newcomer. Behind her is a brief flutter of feathers from what looks to be extremely messy wings as she adjusts herself, although they quickly disappear once she folds them against her back. ]

Alright, hey there Exsillinum. [ A wave! ] Name's Apollo, I'm new and I'm just gonna go ahead and assume this is a locked world that [dramatic voice] ~nobody leaves~ because of a magical Queen or some shit and there's no way out blah blah bleh bloo blah whatever, I'll give a shit about it later.

So yeah, I'm gonna get right to it and do a roll call. [ She clears her throat and oh boy here we go. ]

OI JEREK, AIDAN, OLD FART OF A GRAMPA YOU GUYS HERE OR WHAT

Get back to me if you lot are here, yeah? Alternatively, for those of you who ain't one of these assholes, lemme know if you see a doctor with chick hair, a blonde teenager with a baby face or an old fart with big ol' wings who looks like he's a million years old. Their favourite chicklet's after them! In the meantime, I'm gonna go scout out a fuckin' bar and drink until this shitfest looks a little better then pass out on a bench somewhere. [ A lazy salute follows. ] Peace!

[ After spending nearly an hour trying to find a good way to phrase her thoughts, Charlie decided she was too shaken to try and face the crowds. And she dared call herself vlogger, right? ]

Four days into this whole deal, I believe there has been a mistake.

It shouldn’t have been me, but any of my other four siblings that should have been brought here. Is not as if this hasn’t happened before…maybe not in the same outrageous way, but it’s not completely unheard of greater forces calling in Hunters to deal with their problems, even if that means whisking them away from their own plane of existence. It's rude, but it happens. We deal with it and usually get something nice out of it in the end.

But seriously, me? Didn’t they teach your tech guys or whoever runs this Initiative what a Red Sheep means?

[ She’s twisting an errant strand of hair as she types. She should’ve shown them, maybe they would realize their mistake and take her back. Maybe they didn’t know, which was worse. ]

I need to talk with whoever is managing this thing. Not some representative or hologram or whatever else, but the high ranking person calling the shots.