[ when the feed clicks on, marduk is in what appears to be a ruined building near the edge of town. there's snow on the floor and holes in the walls, but he's not wearing a single scrap of winter clothing. more importantly, he doesn't look especially pleased to be doing this. ]

Recently, one of the locals here went missing. Don't ask me what his name was, I'm not the one who gives a shit. I'm just here to solve the mystery.

He's missing because he's dead, and he's dead because I killed him.

[ he pauses here. it looks like it's for dramatic effect, but really he's just trying to figure out how to end the announcement. ]

Most of you would call that murder, wouldn't you? Can't remember if you all figured out what to do about that, but-- if you want retribution, you can come and get it.

[ good enough. the video ends there. ]

[ Feferi is just so excited to be on camera today, just so excited. Anyone who's been there might recognize the background as DITR's makeshift office. She needed somewhere to prop her tablet up, as both her hands are holding a binder, face down at the moment. ]

While everyone is talking about laws and councils and punishments and all that, I have been thinking about something else: we don't have any really good way of sharing information we find on missions! There is the network, yes, but who wants to go back through every single network post to find out what happened? Plus, if someone withholds information, it's really hard to blame them, since there's no good way to share it.

So the idea I had was this!

[ She holds up the binder. In glittery sparkle pen, the cover reads MISSION LOG and she flips it open to show off the inside. ]

A mission log book! ( OOC cut for length )

[ Backdated to August SEPTEMBER (I can months) 4th / Visible to everyone but Rosette and Mary ]

[Chrono had very seriously considered doing this through video or audio, but in the end, he opts for the more cowardly way—he's less likely to give himself away when voices and faces aren't involved. So he hides behind the benefits of emotionless text, and pretends it's a question of curiosity and not terrible selfishness.]

I've heard talk about death not existing here. Or, at least, that the Initiative can bring people back to life. But so far, it's all just been talk.

I need to know for sure. Is there anyone here who's died and been brought back, or knows someone who has? I know something like this might be unpleasant to talk about. [Understatement, hah...] But, if you could... I'd really like to speak with you.

It's important.

[Normally Erza is always composed and generally friendly when making a post to the network but today she looks extremely pissed off.]

I have an urgent matter that requires the assistance of someone with skills in investigation and tracking.

[Straight to the point.]

Some of you may have heard that Lucy was attacked a few weeks ago, during our most recent mission. While she's now physically fine, something very precious to both Lucy and another friend of mine was taken from her during the assault; a key.

[She holds up a drawing of the missing item.]

I have reasons to believe that it was a fellow transport who attacked Lucy, so if anyone has information about the whereabouts of the key or the one who took it, please get in touch with myself or Jellal Fernandez over a private channel.

[Her glare becomes more fierce now.]

If you're listening to this, I suggest you return what you stole before I find you.

[The feed cuts.]

[OOC: Both Erza and Jellal will be responding, so don't be alarmed if a blue haired pretty boy starts talking to you.]

It's a new month, and I suppose I've recovered enough to return to my business. For those unaware- my name is Kirian Dawningsun, and I own a tailoring shop.

[Directions are attached to this message via text.]

I specialize in robes, but I've begun to make suits, as well. Suits are discounted this month, while I fine-tune the process for making them.

Additionally, if anyone has any histories or other books they wish to part with, let me know. I can pay in marques or barter for them. Non-fiction only. I've no time to bother myself with fiction.

[Kirian, you're a magical elf.]

Thank you for your time.

[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.

 [The feed starts out with a barely audible sigh. She's honestly not quite sure why she chose now to talk about this, and there's a bit of a pause as Kagura decides if she should go through with all of this. It would probably have been better if Sango had done this, to be quite honest with herself. After all, who would really listen to her? Especially if she told them she'd end up being part of the problem?

Against her better judgement, she starts to speak, in a quiet tone, sounding as though it's almost hard to talk about this.]

From my world, there's this man. His name is Naraku.

[A pause as she tries to stay as calm as possible about someone who infuriates her.]

He's not here as of now, but I figure you need a warning before he does show up. He's evil, beyond your wildest imagination. He manipulates and uses people's feelings to get what he wants. He's the reason that everything is wrong in my world, basically. [A deep breath.]

I'm an incarnation of him. Once he gets here, I won't be able to give you anything on him. He would kill me. So. If you have any questions, now's the time to ask. Otherwise, ask the demon slayer Sango. 

[And the feed shuts off. That's enough of Kagura being helpful today.]

A whole week, and nobody's died and nothing's exploded too badly that I've heard of. It's almost unnerving. Probably can't count on it lasting, though. If anyone still needs help with repairs - well, I can do some basic stuff, at least. And any heavy lifting needed.

( [filtered to those who expressed interested in his squad] )

[Filtered to Remy]

Want to watch some kids run their first trial-by-Danger-Room? Buy you a beer after.

[Filtered to Barbara]

I'm running some intro training for some would-be spec ops recruits, if you're interested in watching and giving a second opinion.

[OOC: I'll put up an OOC plotting post sometime Wednesday, along with the log - it's not too time-sensitive! And for interested parties who didn't catch the OOC post earlier, there will be other opportunities for recruitment. Rosters don't stay static!]

voice;

[Haruto hasn't been on the network much, recently, but he can't keep silent today, of all days.]

Has anyone ever heard of National Doughnut Day? It came up in the library, but I've never heard of it. And I'm very fond of doughnuts.

Speaking of, I've been going to one bakery, near the Transport apartments. Is there anywhere else to try?

( and action for roommates, cut for length )

[Billy's face appears on the screen. He looks defeated, though he tries to school his face into a professional expression---for the past day or so, his horror's been growing until he couldn't deny his failure anymore.]

Hello. My name is Billy Cranston, and I'm the co-creator of the telepathic devices some of you have been testing for us. I'd like to issue an apology for my part in the failure of the test, and to put a stop to it. Edward Elric served as the director of the test, and he's done a fine job---but as the creation was my idea and I have the most experience with the technology, the fault is mine, not his.

I failed to adequately account for the differences in available materials between the telepathic communicators at my previous residence and what I managed to scrape together here. As a result, private thoughts have been broadcast, and I can't apologize enough for the intrusion.

[He stares idly at his hands for a moment, biting his lip.]

Removing your devices from skin contact should be enough to stop the broadcast, but please return them to the garage at your earliest convenience. I doubt my efforts are salvageable at this point, but...if any of you believe you can fix my mistake, I'd appreciate the assistance.

Once again, I'm sorry.

[He turns away and the feed clicks off]

[edit: added attached note]
I've especially hurt our telepathic population. I never should've sprung that mental assault on you, and I was stupid to think I could fully control it. I'll scrap the project altogether, but...if any of you think it's at all possible to save it, we would appreciate your assistance. I definitely understand if none of you are inclined to offer, though.
---

((and that concludes the broadcast plot! development to fix the devices is open to everyone, and please feel free to backdate telepathy posts if you want in))

(OOC: This needs a touch of explaining. Nitoh has a creature within him, a Phantom, that he draws his magical power from, and must also feed with magical power (which is supplied by Haruto at this point). Nitoh is currently sleeping on the couch, and the telepathy ring is picking up the thoughts of the Phantom, Chimaera.)

[The voice coming over the comm from Kousuke Nitoh's account is gruff, like that of an old man. The speaking is very formal and old-fashioned... And the voice sounds quite irritated.]

Child, why do you sleep?? You know that I hunger... You have been pestering the Dragon Child all day long about feeding us when he returns home... And yet the moment you step past the threshold, you fall ASLEEP??

....Very well, I suppose you're beyond the reach of my voice now. [An audible sigh.] If you only slept at night, this would not happen. I do not understand these children... And now his underworld is suffused with the aroma of despair as well. It almost makes one regret giving it up. I suppose I have gotten too used to being fed by hand. Would that there were more fighting to do. They call this a war, do they? Hmph. Hardly.

[You see Kousuke Nitoh, a maned young man with hungry eyes. He beams and waves, fluttering his fingers at the camera]

OKAY! Hi guys! I been doing a little bit of investigation, I guess you could say... I mean it's not my thing, really, but anyhow. I been looking into all the stuff about ghosts up on this floor? I live on floor 7 and there've been some crazy things going on, so I thought I'd like share my findings or whatever.

[He waves his hand over the tablet and his face is replaced by a photo of the hallway. There's nothing in the photo... Maybe some glare from the window off a few dust motes in the air creating some blurry orbs... his voice comes over the image]

So this is the kind of stuff I'm seeing. I'm hearing noises and stuff too. Like a scream and all? Also once I saw some blood coming off the wall but I didn't get a picture of it.

[Another couple of clearly-not-ghost photos pan over the screen, and then the image of Kousuke comes back.]

Anyone else know anything about the ghosts? Anyone from this floor or who used to live by the ghosts? I'm tryin to figure it out and it's givin' me goosebumps, but the good kind!

[Just after the footage comes back, an indistinct shape is seen hovering over Kousuke's shoulder. It resolves into an eerie face, see-through and lightly glowing. It's difficult to tell what it is, other than definitely, definitely a ghost.]

I'm all about researching the unknown, though I usually like stuff I can actually touch and feel more. Heh. So yeah, bring it on, ghosts!!

[The face over his shoulder, though still vague, is definitely smiling.]

[The feed flickers on with a wobbly view of a single eye and a thick eyebrow. It wobbles.]

Oh! Ohh!! It's on! I think!!

[The image pulls out to focus more generally on Nitoh's face. He holds his device out at arm's length as he walks up a back staircase in some nondescript building]

Hey! I'm Nitoh, Kousuke Nitoh. I'm looking for my RIVAL, Haruto Sohma, Kamen Rider Wizard. And also PHANTOMS. I'm sure he's hiding some somewhere around here. They told me there are no Phantoms here, but that's gotta be a trick or something. BECAUSE! There's no way I could be here AND he could be here without there being any PHANTOMS here!!!

[He treks up and pushes open the door up to the roof, and for a moment the video feed whites out, until it adjusts to the light and it shows him silhouetted and the scattered rooftops below him. It bounces up and down as he paces.]

Okay, stop don't say it, I know what you want to know. How do I know my rival's even here? WELL! I asked about him and they said he'd been here for a while! So Haruto! Don't try to hide from me! I'm sending my little gryphon out to find you!

[He sets the camera down, still pointing at him, as he activates his driver belt and a little self-assembling model appears in mid-air in front of him: a green somewhat robotic-looking gryphon. He pulls off the ring he is wearing and sets it inside, then looks at the camera significantly.]

SEE! I'll find you if I have to search every donut shop in the city!!

[Gryphon flies off and he waves his forefingers at it as it leaves, smiling fondly. Then he looks back.]

And then you can show me where you're keeping all the Phantoms in this city! You gotta share, you KNOW why!

[At the last, he focuses strongly on the camera, pointing accusingly at it. Then he waves, back to a winning grin.]

Later!!!

[The feed switches off]

[Feed clicks on to a probably somewhat familiar gray-skinned, yellow-horned seatroll with a purple streak through his hair. He looks equal parts extremely irritated and frantic, mouth tight but eyes wide. When he speaks, his voice is level, but it's clear he's distressed.]

And here I'd thought the fun part of this was over with the grand larceny. This is Haruto Souma, even though I look like this. I'm looking for my body--brown hair, tall, extremely good looking. Belt buckle that looks like a hand, lots of rings. Whoever's in there, I need to talk to you. Considering where I've ended up, it's probably Eridan Ampora in there, but just in case it's not...

Please get into contact with me. For your own safety.

[The screen flickers on to show Utena sitting on the foot of her bed. Said bed is unusually rumpled, and she looks bleary-eyed and tired. Her hair is disheveled too, but when she turns to the camera, she manages a sleepy grin. It's only a little forced.]

Uh, hi, to everyone who's been here, and all the new people. I think this is around the time new people show up, is that right? For everyone who doesn't know me, I'm Utena Tenjou. I'm fifteen years old...I think. [She rubs the back of her neck, and sheepishly adds:] My birthday's gone by since I got here, but I'm not sure if that counts. It's good to meet you all.

[Her voice sobers some, and she slows down.]

Ah, I wanted to thank everyone who helped me and Himemiya out a few weeks ago. It means a lot. I wasn't really myself then, so...sorry for any trouble. [It almost looks as if she'll stop the message there, but she continues after an overlong pause:]

Say, I was wondering, well, when I was, ah...well anyway. I noticed there's a lot of buildings around here that are run-down. That big greenhouse in the city looks pretty bad, and I thought maybe a bunch of us could get together and help clean it up a little. Y'know, get all the glass fixed, and plant flowers. Where I'm from, there's gardens everywhere, so I miss it a little.

[Her gaze drops. She looks off to the side, and then starts a little, as if suddenly remembering something:] Oh! And to everyone I asked about sports the last time, there's a way we can play without finding a field. I asked around, and that VR machine'll make any kind of field or court we want. That's great, huh? I wanna host a game soon. Maybe we can have something like that once a week. It gets dull around here.

Mm, that's all. [She rests her hand against her mouth, looks and sounds thoughtful. Mumbled:] If anyone's interested in a game or in helping with the greenhouse, you can find me around anywhere, but I stay in room 705.

I had one last question. Does anyone know how to cook? I wanna learn. There's not a lot of instant stuff to eat here, and I'm not so good at cooking from scratch yet...

[After a while:] Hey, Nanami-kun. Are you still here?

[Good evening, Exsilium! Sheryl may have been stuck in this dystopian city for approximately two months now, but it's the first time she's officially made a network feed for the masses. And what better way to show off the device's capabilities by doing what she does best?

There's a soft intake of breath, slow and steady, then she begins with a calm, dulcet rendition of "Aimo". The song is relatively short and peaceful, but her voice retains all the intensity and passion, enough to show that it's sung by a woman with well-trained vocal chords.]

( Aimo aimo... )

[Shortly, the feed switches to video, revealing a pink-haired woman lying down on her stomach in bed, all smiles as she swings her feet back and forth from behind, also propping her chin in the palm of her left hand.]

To tell you the truth, this isn't really my song. I heard it once back when I was trapped as a child in here and at that time, a young girl with a kind heart sung it to me. I didn't realize it then, but that girl would someday become my best friend.

[She pauses, tucking her pink strands behind her ear with her free hand, then grins.]

Ranka, I don't think you ever told me about that song before! I'm interested in hearing about its origins. And as for the rest of you—

[Her grin soon morphs into a confident smirk as she pokes at the camera. Guess what? The singer has something planned in her sleeve, judging from the slight glimmer in her blue eyes.]

Tomorrow, I'll be making pot-au-feu, a delicious French stew which I expect everyone to try at least once. You'll be missing out if you don't, so I won't take no for an answer. Consider this an invitation from Sheryl Nome.

[Filtered from Roxy but lets face it she could probably crack this open by just looking in it's general direction, he's just...hoping she won't.]

Alright, pay attention, I need some a' you to make yourselwes useful for once. If it's any a' you who can't fight especially consider this payback for sawin' your asses god knows how many times.

I'm sure you all know by now this [WALENTINE'S DAY...] planet got a holiday comin' up centered around your single formed watered down horseshit excuse for romance, I mean we already got a buncha hopeless jackasses who couldn't date 'emselwes out of a paper bag practically throwin' themselwes onto the network askin' for help or more what the fuck they're meant to do.

But considerin' it's sorta more or less expected an' downright good form for two indiwiduals with actual concupiscent goings on to get together an' do somethin', I need suggestions. What the fuck does this shithole ewen hawe that could come close to passin' as some sorta legitimate good time.

She likes Wizards an' Alcohol. Her name's Rox' if you know her.

So.

Get to it.

Continuity- kinda just-

[ -scuffles in the background. The video feed clicks on, though for a few seconds there’s not much to see other than a few broken shingles and a small-fingered, bright green glove. The voice is young enough not to crack, and probably – probably – male. ]

Yeesh. Okay, that’s not it. You know, you guys should’ve just said if you were looking to upgrade this stuff. I mean this thing... this thing is just kinda...

[ With a click he figures out where the input is and tilts it away from the rooftop he’s perched on. The face peering down into the feed is masked and frowning. ]

Okay. I think... that does it, right?

So I didn’t think there was gonna be much of a reason for me to use this thing, but since the welcome wagon left out the part about everybody forgetting who they were I thought I could… um. Help. I mean, if anybody’s still confused about stuff. I didn’t get a chance to write down everything before this place went haywire, but I think I still remember all the same things I did yesterday. So that’s something, anyway.

This place doesn't seem that big on holidays. [ Or anything for that matter other than their little war. ] Anyone have any ideas on what's happening in a week from now?

[ Aka what is everyone doing for Christmas. ]

[ Feed clicks on to a young man with an ostentatious ring on his visible right hand. His expression is placid, but there's a line around his brows and a smudge of dirt on his cheek. ]

Aaah, well this place is certainly something, isn't it? To think I thought I'd seen the weirdest things the world had to offer. My name is Haruto Souma, and I have two questions, if you'd be so kind! First, these undead creatures, formerly human and, well, otherwise--are they safe to kill, or should I continue just, ah, restraining them? Is there a difference between the animal ones and the human ones? I only arrived recently, I'm not sure if this is a regular event, or if there's some kind of procedure you guys have in place for these things.

[ The camera shifts, and there's at least three or four zombified woodland creatures huddled up and bound by a magic circle and several magic chains. Haruto looks unperturbed by the condition of the rotting, living animals. ]

If I do have to keep them locked up, is there someone I can, well, deliver them to? Or a way for someone to come pick them up, preferably, my spell isn't exactly portable.

Ah, and second--is there a place to get good doughnuts around here?

[ Zombie problem or not, there are important questions to be answered here, you understand. He smiles, as if it's not an out-of-place question. ]