Yodelehee yodelehee yodele hee hoooooo~!

[ It's a cozy tableau: Xerxes Break is sprawled sideways on a plush, overstuffed sofa, drinking hot chocolate out of a teacup. Seated beside him is a "woman of a certain age," once beautiful in her day, probably, and even now could be called "handsome." She is primly and respectably dressed, unlike the gaggle of young ladies (and a few men) clustered around the form of one (1) Gilbert Nightray, backed up against a wall, red-faced and cringing. While Break looks entirely at ease in this situation, Gilbert can only be described as scandalized. The sweater he’s wearing with the giant reindeer on it probably doesn’t help. ]

Has anybody ever been to Switzerland? Lovely place, excellent fondue, and the singing!

[ Break yodels some more. He has a high, breathy voice, and difficulty keeping a tune even at the best of times, so this is a particularly vicious form of vocal villainy. His handsome companion giggles into her cup, whilst Gilbert ducks his head and holds his ears. ]

The Swiss also make terribly good clothing for clambering up mountains, of which they seem to have a great many.

[ "Advanced nano-engineering" is what the Mammut retailer had told him, making their technical clothing light, automatically formfitting (one size really does fit all), impervious to the elements, and able to keep the wearer's body comfortably warm, even in the most extreme, frigid temperatures. ]

Anyway, I've got a few of these left over, with which I might be persuaded to part.

[ He produces a small bundle, hardly larger than a deck of cards, and gives it a shake. It puffs out into a snow suit with an attached hood and gloves, clearly a wonder of late 27th century technology. Unfortunately, late 27th century fashion was to emulate 1980's ski wear. ]

With that in mind, I have some information that might be interesting to those of you who haven't yet found suitable accommodation. My esteemed hostess [ a nod to the respectable lady seated beside him ] has been telling me about an enormous castle, half-buried under the snow. In addition to housing a number of works of art, it was also once used as a hotel, apparently. Thus it occurs to me that, with a bit of, ah, sprucing up, it might serve as a place for us Transports to stay, without having to impose on anybody's hospitality.

[ He pauses, frowning. Somewhere off camera, a baritone voice is pleading about something regarding sin and God and exciting underwear. ]

….which is, alas, all too easy to wear out. [ He leans over the back of the sofa calling: ] I think that's quite enough, Mister Cecil~!

(ooc: Break, Gilbert, Kevin, and others have found temporary shelter in a cathouse bordello. Responses will be from some assortment of the above. Actionspam and threadjacking welcome.)

[ The feed opens up to one girl recognisable to be Kougyoku Ren looking into the camera, clearly held up by somebody else. ]

So when it starts recording, I should speak to it?

[ From behind the camera, a voice chuckles, sounding amused. ] Kou-chan, it’s already started.

[ The girl gasps and blushes, covering her mouth in surprise. ] I’m sorry, I didn’t... Oh, how do I begin? Um, h-hello... everyone. I mean, greetings! I mean...

[ A whisper from behind the camera: ] Introductions, Kou-chan, introductions~

Yes, you’re right. It’s not like I haven’t introduced myself before. [ She turns her head a few degrees away from the camera. ] I am Kougyoku Ren. I am… eighteen years old. I am from the Kou Empire, and I, I like fashion, fighting and… um... Anyway, I. I am looking for friends.

[ Again, from behind the camera: ] So, if you’d like to be her friend, please reply to this video!

[ Kougyoku immediately smiles and faces the camera after that line. It’s as if her personality did a complete 180. ] Did I do good, Tatara?

[ And, once more, the voice behind the camera chuckles as the feed shuts down: ] Very well done!

[ note; Tags will be coming separately from Kougyoku and Totsuka separately! ]

[Now here is someone who's been absent throughout the mutiny mess, if the confused look on her face that appears briefly is of any indication. Gently combing through her wavy hair with a free hand, manicured fingers wiggling in and out, Sheryl lets out a soft sigh as she purses her lips to frown deeply.]

Well, well, well... if what I'm getting from hearsay is all true, then I'm so relieved to miss the disaster completely!

[She parts her mouth like she's about to say more. Angry rants at the people involved, massive scolding for dragging the rest of the Transports into their troubles and causing destruction, nicely-worded yet sharp insults at their direction. Instead, she slowly pushes the momentary look of anger aside, gaining her composure while she rubs her cheek and sits up straight, blue eyes locked on to anyone viewing this feed. Sheryl appears calm now, but she's nowhere near her boisterous self, not after learning what happened to Jesse (or what he did).

Still, she manages to sound happy enough. Only a little.]

Anyway, there's something I've been very curious about and I'm hoping to hear excellent answers from you. Now be good people and lend me your ears, all right? It'll only be for a moment.

[A faint smile morphs on her lips, but it lasts for a split second before she frowns, looking thoughtful. Cue the long pause.]

Have you ever wondered if you feel any differently after growing up in this war for so long? I'm not talking about emotions alone, but if you've changed completely after dealing with the Initiative, the UE, that irritating AI, these missions... everything. I've been here for almost a year now, and there were so many experiences I'd never thought I could possess. I wonder, does this mean I should feel older because of it? There's something to be said about war causing people to grow up so fast, after all...

[Like joining forces with a resistance to fight another country, using her own songs to drive the enemy soldiers literally down to their knees. The way she speaks contains genuine ruefulness to her tone, but it's not too long before she smiles once more.]

As of today, I'm officially eighteen, and yet I still feel like I'm seventeen.

So I was wondering, what with all the zombies, rebelling, systems going down, infighting, arguing and the impending threat of...well, everything really...

[A pause.]

...does this mean no cookies next month?

So I get we got plenty of urgent business to take care of what with...well, we live on the moon, bombs, wars, yadda yadda, but indulge me for a bit.

Everyone keeps talkin' about Halloween, yeah? An' it's about ghosts an' the departed...

So for Ghosts, those currently present that is, would this be like a second birthday? Y'know, as in gifts an' the like? Cause I could stand behind somethin' like that a hundred percent.

I'm in 155 if anyone's feelin' generous.

[As always he's just posting to see if he can't rustle a few jimmies down the line. Treating urgency lightly usually does the trick in his experience.]

[SOMEBODY SURE SOUNDS CHEERFUL. It is the fakest thing that ever faked, because actually she's feeling a high degree of stress right now. This is not where they are supposed to be, but it's apparently where everyone is. Why?]

Hey everybody! Haha. We got sent on a mission. And now we're back! Um, they said they'd explain things but they kinda just left... why are we here? H-haha, I'm afraid to ask.

Oh, uh... Collette, Jesse, Vanadi, Nill, Jack... I brought you back some things. Come see me! Once I figure out where I... am...

[Whistling in the dark intensifies.]

[Though it ain't over yet, considering Gin's just as confused and a little unnerved by this as Rin is, even if he doesn't sound it.]

Yeah, pretty sure last time I checked, we were down there, not up here...though ya' might wanna break it gently to Asano here, not sure how much she can handle before she loses it fully.

[IN CLOSING: the sound of Rin trying to shove him. :/]

[This post is super backdated to shortly after Tyki leaves Lavi's birthday party with a slice of cake. :)

The camera does not, in fact, open with a focus on Tyki's face. Rather, it's showing a picture of a nice-sized well-frosted slice of chocolate cake on a plate, with a fork resting alongside. Someone is singing, in a reasonable voice:]

Parabéns a você,
Nesta data querida...
Muitas felicidades,
Muitos anos de vida...

[The song trails off, and he laughs.]

This is delicious, by the way, compliments to the chef. The one bright side to this place is how many interesting things I get to eat! Kangaroo, cake... [Ill-gotten birthday cake...] ... and history. You know, they don't tell you that history is delicious.

[He laughs, and carries on with the song, though humming this time. It's to the tune of "happy birthday," by the by.

This carries on for about thirty seconds and then he gets tired of doing that and switches the video off.]

[Today, two unforgivable errors were made: the first, he let Rosette use the kitchen.

The second: He let Rosette use the kitchen.

When the feed blinks to life, the serenity of the figure facing the camera is directly at odds with the thunderous cacophony in the background. Chrono just smiles blandly at his unseen audience as a terrible burst of sparks makes itself visible in—is his back to the apartment's kitchen?]

I just had a quick question. [He might as well dive right into it, as a crash echoes around the apartment. He doesn't even flinch.] Does anyone here know how to repair electronics? A microwave, specifically? I think apartment number 304 could use your services.

[It's here that Rosette comes into view, hurdling around the corner as smoke billows in her wake; if Chrono were actually looking, he might think it seems appropriate for Rosette's definition of an entrance. It's unclear whether she's addressing Chrono or the tablet (even realizes he's talking to the tablet) when she bellows FIRE! THAT'S A FIRE! It's very likely the former based on how the serenity of Chrono's smile twitches into something that speaks silent danger for someone.]

Quickly, if it isn't too much trouble? [The feed doesn't cut off; evidently, his quiet fury is such that he completely forgets to turn off the tablet before hurling it across the room to go perform some manner of intervention.

It lands facing a ceiling that is growing increasingly smokey.]

( action / in case you want to help, judge, or laugh at them. all options are legit. )

[At first the video feed doesn't show who's making the post, instead it's focused on a remarkably well crafted stone statue that some people might recognize as Gin Ichimaru, just standing on the spot. After a few seconds(given to allow everyone to admire it, of course) the person recording walks closer to the statue, then turns his tablet around, focusing the camera on both himself(it's Gin, what a surprise) and his stone lookalike which he now has his arm around it's shoulders, and grins that godawful grin of his at anyone watching.]

I came into some extra money this month so decided to treat myself.

Whaddya all think?

[For roommates, it's just back up against a wall facing the rest of the apartment. No matter where you walk, it's visible out of the corner of your eye, unless you turn your back towards it.

But it's still there.

Watching.]

[The voice is measured, disciplined, but rather young:]

This is Armin Arlert, cadet of the 104th Scouting Legion, reporting. I arrived to an unknown location approximately one week ago, and have yet to meet any others from my group, or anyone with knowledge of our war with the titans. While I have currently determined the situation to be safe, even hospitable, all evidence suggests it will not remain so. Should anyone out there who serves under Generalissimo Dallas Zackley receive this message, please respond! [A pause, and there's a slight break in that resolve.] Please... I-I can't have been the only one to...

[After a moment, Armin clears his throat. He is shaken, but continues:] To everyone who arrived here prior to this month, I would appreciate any assessment of the situation or perspective on the war and the time-and-space transportation that appears to have taken place. Suggestions for further reading on the subject would also be appreciated.

[It's clear he's a bit worn out by making this message, though fighting to sound brave.] Thank you.

[ Video opens on Roslyn at her desk in the police office, well dressed as she holds up her badge in front of her for a little bit before placing it back down on the desk. The office is small and cramped and clearly actively in use by the piles of folders, even if they're neatly stacked and arranged. ]

Some time ago, the police force was unfortunate enough to lose Inspector Barnaby, Sergeant Howe, and Sergeant Calhoun back to their homes. Their service was appreciated and will be missed.

In their absence, I am currently assuming the reigns as Detective Chief Inspector of the Transport Affairs Unit. I wanted to reassure the population that the police will continue to operate with integrity and dedication. Should you ever require our services, we can be found at [ address & ooc link ].

For those of you considering joining the force, we are always welcoming new recruits and the pay is reasonable. Serving as an officer is a way to help mend the fences between us and the natives and earn a living. Thank you for your time.

[ click. ]

[ ooc: check here for further ooc information on the police force and opportunities with it. ]

[With the video set up nice and neatly so she's shown sitting properly at her desk, Seles doesn't waste any time getting to the point.]

For those of you more informed in the workings of this city, I have a question! Is there a form I can fill out to request the removal of a roommate?

I believe there's a point where so much time dealing with an issue is enough to file an official complaint. They'll do something about this, won't they? [They better...! She's just been thinking on this the past two weeks and wondering how to approach it, if her huffy expression doesn't share that enough.]

...That is all, so thank you in advanced.

[Shortly after Rin's post a video feed opens on the network, apparently being made from the same location she was in, since the camera doesn't show the person making the video, rather the camera is on Rin in the distance, who doesn't appear to be aware she's being watched.]

Hello? Ah, this thing on? Yeah, it is - good!

[A definite male voice, cheerful but sounding just that bit sly.]

I'm afraid ya' may have just seen my student tryin' to skive off of her lessons by startin' up a few conversations with most of you in the middle of a training session. She's a real lazy, ungrateful type, y'know? So try not to enable 'er by respondin'.

[There's a slight pause, before the voice sighs to itself lightheartedly.]

Kids these days, huh?

[Suddenly the camera feed rapidly closes in on Rin, though the video feed shuts off just before it gets her.]

[Good morning, Exsilium! Rin Asano is cold, wet, hungry and irate this rainy Monday morning. Read on to find out why!

In a voice of pure seethe:]

You know we have some absolutely crazy people running around here? Not on medicine or anything or kept track of, no, well just running around.

Well you know who the very worst of them is? His name’s Gin Ichimaru, he’s this snaky, venomous, pallid, scrawny guy with white hair, and he’s a public menace, I’m not even kidding.

He’s a public menace! [Restated for emphasis.] That’s why you should come down to the hold, right now, and you should come and find him and – OHHH MY GOD AHHH –

[The splashing of footsteps as Rin books it, heard only briefly before she mashes the “mute” button on her communicator.]

In a sense, it's surprising that this sort of thing doesn't happen more often. Isn't that so?

The whole place being infested, I mean, with some kind of nightmare creature untouchable by normal means and whatnot. Think about it. All these dozens of people here, some of them have dreadful powers, I'm surprised more of them aren't... bursting the seams.

Too bad we can't turn these monsters against our enemies as easily as they got turned on us, eh?

Well.

That was a blast, huh?

[ The name on this post is still Bariyan e Kodhi, but its current owner is mostly certainly not Bariyan.

Cat's sitting at a desk, elbow propped against its surface, his hand in his hair. The collar of his shirt has been pulled away to show the mess that's been made of his neck -- frost-nipped skin, bruising, great big bloody scratches. He's made no effort to tend to his injuries yet. He has, however, taken time to make sure that his hair is completely perfect.

He scowls. ]

Tell me, did anyone else here get physically assaulted by their roommate the moment they opened their fucking door? Or was I the only one who got tossed in with a goddamn psychopath?

[ Cat paws at his neck and looks surprised to feel blood-- he pulls his hand away hastily, tries to wipe it off on the back of his other hand, snarling in irritation. ]

This is the exact reason why I don't... like... sharing.

[ He's barely finished spitting his last syllable before he turns the tablet off. Then he picks it up and flings it at the wall, shrieking, but thankfully that portion of his incredibly mature and reasonable fit doesn't make it onto the network. ]