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 )

[ When the video clicks on Roslyn looks a little tired but primarily determinedly mad, someone who's been running on coffee and protein bars for too long and is in no mood for anyone's games. Her voice is brisk, no nonsense and cuttingly sharp. ]

As of this moment, all identified mutineers are in the custody of the police. Should anyone wish to provide help with guard duty it will be appreciated. Visits to them will be allowed only under supervision. Should anyone attempt to injure them, that person will find themselves in cuffs faster than they can blink.

My patience with having to repeat myself on this matter is wearing thin.

[ Her tone softens a little, almost an appeal. ]

While there will be consequences for their actions, we have enough war and bloodshed on our doorstep without killing each other. Nothing will be gained and much could be lost. We do not execute people, and I will not tolerate it as a suggestion.

All systems should be restored. The base should now be fully operational again and you can return to your daily lives, if that is what you wish. Alternatively, you can consider what was said on both sides and determine if what we are doing is truly enough, or if we have become complacent.

[ Just saying. Small out. ]

( an array of private texts )

[ ooc: all mutineers can now be considered to be locked up in empty rooms in the West Wing for the immediate future! I will keep all arrested mutineers updated as further consequence type developments occur, feel free to let me know if you have preferences that we could maybe work out. log for mutineer & visitor shenanigans can be found here. ]

[Alright... Now Kenjirou is drunk.]

Doesn't really matter where we are, does it?

[Whatever alcohol Kenjirou had kept throughout his time in Exsilium and accumulated during missions has been officially depleted. It's been a rough couple of months, and they're only getting rougher. Still, there was one constant that allowed him to keep going. Now that she's gone, it really has become too much to bear. Honestly, a dark part of him wishes she hadn't come in the first place so he wouldn't have to deal with what seems (and Kenjirou fully expects to be) the death of a family member for the third time. His judgment has been a little compromised by the stress, so clearly, the only rational course of action is to make an ass out of himself on the network.]

's not like the scenery down there was breathtaking, either. And even if we get enough supplies to make it through, even if... [give him a second] ...Even if we return things to the way they were, what's the endgame? Don't really care about whatever war this is part of. Nothing but trouble...

I... ugh.

Class is... cancelled. Indefinet--... Indifi--... Forever.

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.

[There's a bitter 'tch' as she turns the tablet on. Her eyes hold an underlying, anger that just seems to be slowly seeping outward. But beyond the look of her eyes, her face seems mockingly relaxed. This is all some horrible sour joke. Every word is laced with venom and sarcasm. Tread lightly.]

Obviously, no one here likes this Maker forsaken rock we've found ourselves on. I wasn't present while the chaos was occurring, but I understand getting us here came at a great cost. I won't even say it could or couldn't have been prevented. At least we're here, aren't we?

But does everyone truly think we're safe simply by running and hiding? If those Initiative bastards can send us here then what is stopping any other force from trying? We're safe, for now. But then what? We simply wait and send all our hopes to those bastards who dragged us here in the first place?

Oh, I'm sure the Initiative is just full of what they believe to be brilliant schemes of how to fix this. But I doubt I need to remind anyone how beneficial relying on their genius has been in the past.

So. Anyone here actually capable of thinking on their own or shall we simply wait and see?

[Text]

Good evening, fellow Transports.

Near the residence domes, anyone who reads this post unless I forgot someone will see a shimmering section of wall. That's the entrance to a kind of... Well I guess you'd call it a speakeasy I've assembled using a magic item I have.

I'm not really open yet, but I'll let people in so that they can be in an area with actual lights during the outage. Just don't try to sneak into the back rooms or anything.

That said, the real purpose here is more of a Help Wanted situation. I need wait staff, barkeeps, and a cleaner or two. Inquire within, of course - the goal's to create a small place of at least a little happiness for ourselves, so... Well, yeah.

Those I've already talked to, if you could please drop by as well, that'd be nice. There's a few more plans to consider, I think.

[Action]

[And the shimmering gate is, indeed, open.

The room within is rather minimalistic, at least for now. The bar and tables look nice, at least, and there's a goodly amount of seating around. Across from the entrance and coat check (currently unstaffed), there's a bar, a Succubus wearing her usual outfit, and a sign saying "HELP WANTED!"

You could kibitz with Pidonus... Or ignore her and go talk with someone else who's chosen a bright room over a building stuck on just life support.]

Well, here we are, on the moon. I know that this is a terrible tragedy, but like... this actually feels more like home than the surface did? I'm used to living in a smaller, enclosed space like this. This base is definitely smaller than the Mugunghwa, but it's at least on the same order of magnitude. It's familiar.

Which is... kind of becoming a problem for me. Until now, there was the disappearances and the evacuation to keep me nice and busy, but I think that was actually something I seriously needed.

It's like... I'm the security AI for the Mugunghwa, right? That position comes with certain directives, and among them is being completely dedicated to the survival of my ship and the people on it. I'm not programmed to protect the ship until I can't, and then do whatever I want, I'm programmed to protect the ship. Just because that's totally impossible for me now doesn't mean that the directive changes.

I've heard a saying that, for a captain, losing your ship feels like losing your wife. I guess for me, it's more like losing a husband. A man at least can move on and take a new wife, but...

I guess I'm gonna have to get used to this, one way or another. The feeling of being the Mugunghwa's widow. It's not like I'm going back any time soon.

Yo, listen up. I dunno how close you guys been paying attention to the intel coming in about where the U.E.'s holding our people, but there's something really important we gotta remember before we rush in there:

You can't go in there if you got superpowers or magic or anything. They got alarms and shit. The second you step in there, they're gonna know about it, and then we're totally blown.

Which sucks, right? 'cause if you're like me, you wanna be with the rest of the group busting in there to save your friends.

Okay, here's the thing though. I got a superpower. And it's one I ain't talked about before, but I'm talking about it now, 'cause it's important. 'cause we're gonna need as many people as we can get on that rescue mission.

[He takes a deep breath. This is hard for him, okay, coming out like this.]

I can, um... I can take away powers. And I can give 'em back. And it don't hurt or nothing. You just turn regular, okay, like a normal human. Norm is what we call it where I come from. Or "non-powered".

So... So if you need to rescue somebody and you can't because you're superhuman or whatever, I'll be there and I can take your power right before you go in. And then I'll give it back as soon as you come out. I swear to god, I will.

If you got any questions about it, I can talk to you right now. So you're ready for it and everything.

[ It's just in text at first, but don't let that start your doubts churning. It'll get better. ]

Exsilium! Fuck yes I knew I could f-- People haven't died, the disappearances have been due to the United Earth, because they're raging assholes. Experimenting on people with powers and treating anyone who doesn't seem to have any like relative dirt. Sort of. Anyway, short time, still upgrad--- ing. Oh, shit! Yes! Okay so people who are missing are probably just missing not gone home, I hope [ he really hopes because he hasn't found Pepper yet ], I reserve the right to be incorrect, it doesn't happen often, relish here as necessary. We're in the UE if we are missing, and I'm looking for a few people I already knew were supposed to have been gone. So far no such luck, and I don't know where the base itself is. While that sounds useless, if any of you can crack this ridiculously high powered encryption that even I couldn't crack, then go for it. [ Hint: no one can crack it it's an ooc uncrackable (for now) ] Otherwise, just... Batten down the hatches. I doubt this is gonna turn out well, okay? But it'll be fine. Good to see you guys.


[ second note: I have to sleep but I will hit things in the am and after work so hard like going to the final exam for a class you never attended, hard. word. yo.

EDIT: AND THIRD NOTE tony is totes cool with handing this tablet off to other people currently in the UE who want to get messages to people back in Exsilium, so feel totally free to create a new thread calling someone out and we'll just assume tony either handed it to you, or is looking over your shoulder like a creeper. (edit: if he can, he'll be trying to electrotechopathic his way into your threads. he might not be able to but it won't stop him trying. ]

[Have a rare not-text post from Johnny. He has the tablet's camera sitting on a table, as he relaxes on his bed with his old guitar. He idly strums some cords as he talks.]

What do you guys do for entertainment around here? I'm startin' to think I've been here too long when I'm actually waitin' for the Initiative to send us somewhere just to break up the monotony. Don't get me wrong, going back to the prehistoric beach was pretty friggin' sweet. Didn't know I needed some sunlight that badly. But lately, back here in Dreary Town, things get... I dunno, tiring. Wake up, go train, put buildings back together, practice guitar when I can, go to bed and repeat it all again.

So what are you guys up to? I'm pretty stoked about this radio thing, I gotta say. That'll be cool. But what else is goin' on out there? What do you do in your free time?

I was also wonderin' how many other people have been here as long as me, or longer. Been here a year now this month. Time flies when you're havin' fun. [Maybe just a liiiiitle sarcasm there.]

[The feed cuts on and a voice starts up almost immediately.]

Soooo... [He pauses.]

I was gone for a week, like the Initiative said I would be, but I get back and it's been more like- [Hums a little, as if he's calculating it] -six weeks give or take, according to the network date here. It looks like everything caught on fire while I was gone, too. Go figure.

Not only that, but there's a flood of newbies, too, as well as people I missed from the last one. Anyone willing to give me an update? Or link me to where another thread that explains it would be fine, too.

Anyway, I'm Blaine. Good to meet the new people, and for the old crowd, I'm back.

[Feed cuts off]

[[Action available for Roommates or people who would seek him out to speak in person. All responses will be in Audio unless it's text.]]

[The last few minutes of the fighting on Elmer's world involved someone literally dragging a semi-conscious Barney out of a crashed UE tank and back through the portal, after a piece of rubble from an explosion clipped him on the side of the head and knocked him half unconscious. It's a mystery why he chose video for this, as the left half of his face is basically one big mess of bruise and scab, his eyes are blood-shot, and he generally looks like hell.]

Hey, uh, I don't exactly remember who it was, but thanks for dragging me back through the portal back there. Just because they can bring us back from the dead doesn't mean I'm wild about throwing my life away.

[He winces, reaches off screen and gingerly plants a giant ice pack on the injured side of his face.]

Sort of related to that, important thought:

UE pretty clearly just followed us to that world. Almost like they did it just to spite us. They KNOW what we're doing here. Seems to me it's only a matter of time before they just show up here and smash us into raspberry jam. Do we have some sort of secret weapon no one told me about that'll stop them?

[ The video feed turns onto Medusa in her new apartment - expression serious before she begins to speak. ]

Greetings Exsilium. For those of you who do not know me, I am Queen Medusalith Amaquelin-Boltagon, and from this point forward I will be acting as a direct liaison between the Initiative and Transports. While previously discussed, my appointment now is in part due to the actions of those individuals who procured the space ship and the request for more transparency and warning of upcoming events from the Initiative.

My job, as it stands, is to make sure everyone is informed about upcoming missions and other news with ample time to prepare, rather than the hurried explanations that we are all familiar with at this point. Which is what brings me here before you now.

[ She straightens even further, hair spreading out to cover the rest of the screen that isn't taken up by her body. ]

Recently the Initiative has been working on technology to return those who are unwilling or unable to fight back to the universe of our origin. But it is new and unrefined, and the possible consequences include permanent relocation to a world not your own.

Which is why the Initiative requires a volunteer to return to his or her own universe. The portal will be unstable - it may not open to the correct universe or remain open for long. They also seek a small number of people to go as a security team to protect both the individual who's world you have hopefully traveled to and a number of Initiative members sent to examine the situation.

Again, I must stress that there is no accounting for the dangers one might face, and the consequences it may have for you, your universe, or the team that the Initiative will send with. Do not volunteer if you are hesitant or unprepared to deal with said consequences; however, if you have questions, I will do my utmost to answer them.

Furthermore, if there are any among you who wish to aid me as a liaison, please inform me at your earliest convenience.

Thank you.

( ooc|| Signups are still open and can be found here as well as ooc information! )

So am I really understanding this right? Is my world really the only world where people know how to furycraft? It's hard even imagining life without it. Much less building all of...

[He gestures around him, vaguely trying to point out all of Exsilium.]

All of this.

Maybe you just call it something else. Does anyone out there have the ability to manipulate the elements with their mind? Fly with wind? Throw fireballs? Shape stone, steel, or wood? Heal with water?

[ If the Initiative ever wanted proof of how well they expanded their network's range, this would be it.

Normally Caesar isn't prone to using video, but this will be one of his few exceptions. He's sitting in a large metal chair, one with all sorts of technical whatzits and doodads that he'll never ever fully understand on his own attached. For those more future-inclined, it looks an awful lot like the captain's chair of, say, a spaceship's bridge. He waits a few beats until he's sure the tablet, either held by someone else or propped up on something across from him, is broadcasting. ]

Good evening, Exsilium.

If someone would be kind enough to go wake the Initiative up for us and let them know we have something large, space-faring, and very high up above the island right now that we'd like to bargain with them for, that would be really great.

( OOC note: Feel free to threadjack! This is totally a threadjackable post. )

Does anyone know where to get plants around here? In particular cherry saplings or seeds?

Also, a lab I can borrow would be very helpful! I promise to clean to clean up after and not leave any surprises ♥

My payment for borrowing... would be my help in the form of an invention! Something to make your life easier! You have to tell me what you need, of course, and then let me borrow your lab again... to use for my invention, of course!

[Video]

Think I've basically got my bearings down around here pretty good. Just one big thing I haven't been able to find (Aside from white sand beaches, that is.).

Have we got a good firing range around here? I'm gonna get rusty without having Overwatch or the CPs hounding my ass constantly.

[Private to Gordon]

So.

Morrigan?

[The screen comes on. The voice has a Scottish burr that could cut stone, and (despite the picture) there are no wings visible on the head, although the hair is that green color.]

Ah, there we go. Hello! I'm Morrigan, been here a bit but been distracted by a few things. So!

I'm workin' in the labs, doin' some of the sortin' and cleanin' and organizin' and such, and possibly helpin' with appointments for people needin' things!

I just thought I'd introduce meself tae people so as to not be tae much of a surprise!

Look, I'm still getting this whole thing to sink in. I still can't really wrap my head around it, but I have to know one thing.

Is there a little girl out there? Her name's Clementine. She's eight, has a baseball cap on with the letter D on it.

And Clem, if you're there, please tell me.

[ The video feed opens in a rather mundane fashion: an expressionless man sitting within the library in the Initiative Hold, his tablet on a desk in front of him as he pages through a book--a somewhat battered old volume of history. ]

I have two questions. I would appreciate some answers, if you could.

[ His voice is deep and serious, but also remarkably flat and toneless. ]

I understand that the other "Transports" here represent a wide variety of worlds. How many come from one with similar components to this one? A ruined Earth, or one near ruin, and a repressive absolute government guiding humanity in the wake of that disaster.

[ He closes the book and sets it down on the desk just out of the screen's frame. ]

The second question is simple. Can anyone recommend somewhere I can find decent coffee?

[ The feed flickers on. Han keeps the video setting off. No names had jumped out on the list as threatening or even familiar, but it paid to be careful. He had changed his own name. One of his old fake IDs now sits where “Han Solo” used to on the tablet.

As much as he expects this to be a failed enterprise, he has to try. He clears his throat. ]

Uh, there’s an emergency situation. I’m looking for an escaped Wookiee. Eight-feet-tall, covered in brown fur, very aggressive. If anyone knows of its whereabouts, contact me immediately. Do not try to engage it yourselves. Repeat: do not try to engage it yourselves. It’ll rip your arms off before you grab a blaster. So. Don’t try to be heroes. Thanks.

[ If they’re here, they’ll know. They’ll contact him themselves. Now to sit back and wait—only his least favorite thing to do. ]

[The cam shows the inside of a bar full of happy people partying hard, and a rather unsteady looking Barney. Respond on the network or as someone at the bar.]

I think-

[Jostled, regathering train of thought.]

I think, that this Separation Day is a really good celebration. All these people getting together, and just forgetting about their troubles for a while...and telling all those Untied Earth guys to fuck off, and...and buying alla us transports drinks!

[He holds up a pint glass.]

Down with Untied Earth! I'll shove a crowbar up their asses!

[The Exsilium natives laugh and cheer as Barney puts down his tablet on a table to go do some drunk errand. He'll be back in a moment to see who's talking. Alternatively, you could call him up tomorrow and make fun of him making an ass of himself.]

[Lara comes onscreen, and she looks tired. Tired and disheveled. Tired and disheveled with some cuts and bruises.

But mostly so, so tired. Perhaps a better word would be "beat" or "disheartened."]

... I was wrong.




About leaving, to clarify. The Initiative is ... well-protected. But to be fair I am not often wrong.

[She gives a sigh.]

... I am going to explore the area, then. See what has happened to my homeland.

[Nananea isn't smiling for once, and when she talks she isn't making her usual grand gestures with her arms. She’s just sitting, idly fidgeting with her hands, a vaguely concerned expression on her face. A substantially more subdued Nananea.]

I have been thinking lately. About leaving this place- about what truly happens when we go. When the Initiative is done with us. What happens to the people who simply vanish. The popular theory is that we will return home.

[She looks away briefly, taking a second to gather her thoughts.]

But. I have been wondering. If we do return home, do we get to start our lives again just as we left them? Has our home universe been in stasis the whole time we were away? The more likely answer is that life continued without us. That time passed. But how much? I am concerned... that perhaps while we are away, time has passed unusually. Perhaps it has been years back home, and the people we love are dead and gone and our homes will be unrecognizable.

[Another pause, and then she smiles. Not the brilliant grin that’s so typical of her, but at least it’s a less dreary expression.]

In that case, I do not think I will wish to return home. But! I am being quite the pessimist, aren't I? I could be wrong. It is very likely that I am. I wish to hear other theories, if any of you have them. Or maybe I should not dwell on this so much.

[It seems like she’s done after that, but a thought occurs to her, and she perks up noticeably, sitting up a little straighter, smiling just a tiny bit more.]

Ah- one more thing. I have noticed that other people have moved into my housing unit recently. We have not yet met- but welcome. I hope we will see one another soon, face to face.

((OOC: This entire post is backdated to February 2nd! Yeah, one day, but...))

[Network, Video, Private to "Kaneis"]

Hey. I read those posts that I made during the last couple weeks. The ones where...

Well, that was me a decade ago. Riana, I mean. It's... A long story.

And... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the attitude I did towards you, I shouldn't have been so pushy, and I should've remembered I don't need hair secrets.

[Network-to-probable-action, Private to Shirley Fenette]

So, uh, it's not perfect, but I got some stuff together. I got lucky just after the mission and found a bunch of my world's sourcebooks. Haven't had a lot of time to go over them yet, but they're in really good condition for being, near as I can tell, a millenium-plus old.

Then again, they mentioned that resources one needs from their world become available here, so this might just be an extension of that? Or just coincidence. Or both.

Let's just not think about that, all right?

[Action, all over the place]

*Whenever Pidonus isn't busy teaching Shirley, she's going to be teleporting around the region at random. She's... DEFINITELY in some kind of funk, which seems doubly odd compared to her often fairly bright, confident attitude.

She's not even looking where she's going, so she might bump into you.*

(WARNING: Pidonus is basically a giant swarm of adequacy issues, and these have been brought to the fore by a certain someone's temporary instability. She's potentially likely to try and use her powers on anyone she runs into, trying to charm and seduce people as a desperate - and unlikely to succeed - attempt to ignore the problem. Please include in an OOC note in your response if you want her to try anything, if that something will succeed, or if you just want to talk to her.)

[The feed flicks on to the rather perturbed face of a woman. A new women. Yaaaay, sudden influx of transports, right? Yeah, not so thrilling to her either.]

Oh, it is just like the queen and country to fight against every strong power with nothing left. I suppose I should feel proud to be ripped from my home to be brought to this wasteland. And I had always been curious to see how our civilization would end … however I didn’t think I would bear witness to it.

[She pauses with thought on this for a moment, giving it the proper weight an idea like that should deserve. But the thought is quickly ended as her regular annoyed tone starts up again.]

Regardless, I’m really not in the mood for impossible odds today, and I have many things to attend to. So could someone point me to the bloody transport home?

[Video, public.]

[Gordon looks like hell. Drawn and sleepless, A large bruise on his forehead across the browbone, several scrapes, cuts and bruises on his face and neck, glasses scratched... He stares into the camera awkwardly, with bustle in the Labs behind him.]

No doubt you've seen the large anomalous mass in the middle of the city. I believe we know exactly what it is now.

It's a creature by the name of Zagreus. It's a conscious collective of timelines that had been unnaturally stopped from manifesting the way they should. The resultant energy has gained a name and a mind... of a fashion, but not a form. Yet. It's not alive in the conventional sense, but it does have a goal: to eradicate every timeline it comes into contact with, including ours. It had been dormant in the Doctor's subconscious until now; god only knows how it got out, but now it's free, and gestating inside that temporal knot in the center of town. Feeding off all the chaos of the age-scrambling while the Timeknot dilation field ages and turns to ash anything that gets immersed in it.

We've got to get in there and destroy Zagreus before it reaches full maturity. Thanks to the Doctor's schematics we at the Labs have created a handful of personal temporal stability devices that will enable us to get into the Tineknot unharmed. What we need now, are people who are willing to use them. We should have enough devices for anyone who wants to go in, anyone who wants to fight, but let me know here so that I can be sure of it.

Tomorrow morning we'll meet there. I plan on going in as well. It wouldn't be the first time I did something like this... But I get the feeling that even in its larval stage, Zagreus is going to take all our firepower to take down.

[Video, private to Morrigan]

[He knows she heard him, that he intends to throw himself into that portal to god-knows-where. He hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to her. Therefore:]

I think I owe you an explanation.

((EDIT: Log post is HERE! CHARGE!))

[ Blaine woke up this morning in an unfamiliar bed still decked out fully in his charcoal grey suit, deep blue dress shirt, black tie, and shoes. It had been quite a few years since he could claim that was a common occurrence, but he rolled with it. That was when the memories started to flood back in and he spent a few minutes a bit confused and dazed before he found his tablet -confirming what he was hoping was hallucinations from overwork- and looked through the last few days of posts and his comments.

He sighs, pulls off his tie, straightens his collar, brushes his fingers through his hair to set it back to rights and moves into the better lit kitchen. When the feed comes on, there's a man who looks to be in his late thirties to mid-forties with blue eyes ignore the fact they're green in the icons looking at the camera calmly and with just a hint of a smile. ]


It looks like I wasn't so lucky after all. Whatever the Initiative's been doing effected me as well, just took its time doing it, and there's never a good time for unplanned inter-dimensional time travel.


[ A small upward lift to his lips. ] For those of you who don't know me or those who don't remember, I'm Blaine Thorps. I look forward to seeing more of you all until whatever 'unexpected event' the Initiative has planned next rolls upon us.

[/end of video]

[[For Roommates in Rm 207 Blaine will be there for a couple of hours that morning, or if you know him and want to swing by, go for it!]]

[ The video opens to a pair of hands. Hands, paper, and a line of tobacco. A cigarette being rolled before the camera is tipped upwards and Sharpe comes into view. He drags a hand through his hair, which is more than slightly wet by the rain. It's obvious after a while that he's outside, sitting below the awning of one of the houses in the Hold. His rifle, leaning against his shoulder, is completely dry.

He takes out a lighter and snaps it on, lighting the homemade cigarette and taking a drag. ]

Convenient things, these. [ Tosses the lighter up, and catches it again. ] Works better than any flint. [ Pause, and he shrugs. ] But I ain't here ta talk 'bout fires.

I'm a soldier and I ain't use ta just waiting 'round here. Even travelling and sightseeing [ he grins at this, because going out to the Outlands was fun but not the kind of sightseeing and travel most gentlemen go for ] gets tiring after a while. [ He leans a bit further back against the wall. ] There any books 'round? [ Beat, then he clarifies, because his accent tends to mark him as illiterate: ] Fer reading, I mean. English'd do, but if there's something in French or Spanish, I ain't going ta say no.

[ He takes a drag of the cigarette contemplatively. ]

Stories'll do as well, if no one's got any books ta read.

[ He makes to switch off the transmission, but then he seems to remember something. Scramble, scramble, oops, ash and burnt paper on the camera, which he brushes away irritatedly. ]

Can someone explain ta me how a man and a woman can share the same house without being married or related ta each other? [ He tips his head ta the side. ] It don't say much for decency or the woman's reputation, no. [ Beaaaaaaaaaaaat. ]

And what's those noises on the thirteen floor of that damned building we've been housed in, eh?

[ This is actually Sharpe's point in making the transmission but he wants books as well. Whatever. Look, it's shut off for real now. ]

a little bit later, 10% (crappily) encrypted to morgana

[ Awkwardly: ] How fares you, milady?

[Private, to Blaine]

...Blaine.

[Looking annoyed as always. Okay, maybe a little moreso. Phasers are most definitely not set to stun, here. He holds up a small pair of shiny bronze briefs with "SCIENCE!" spelled out on the ass in sparkly bedazzled rhinestones.]

Just what the hell is THIS, and why was it in my room?

[The screen shows a terribly serious-looking man. If you look closely you might realize that he looks an awful lot like an animated corpse (which, coincidentally, would be because he is one). If not? He might look like any other medieval fellow who hasn't really kept up on hygiene. Or who perhaps contracted some kind of horrible disease.

Either way, he doesn't seem bothered by his condition.

He's also doing a pretty good job keeping the camera steady and focused despite his lack of experience with such devices. HE MEANS BUSINESS OK.]

Good people!

I confess I have not yet spoken to many of you, which I presently hope to rectify. You may call me Justice, and I intend to see to it that each poor soul drawn to this world is soon returned to his rightful lands unharmed.

[Big promises maybe but hey that's a spirit of justice for you.]

But first I must ask -- how does the Initiative capture its... [is "victims" too strong a word?] recruits? It is not magic, and I know no other way