[The face that pops up on the screen is clearly in need of at least a small shave -- he's gotten lazy in the middle of the tundra. Of course, as soon as he turns on the feed he seems to be having second thoughts about doing so.

Probably should've been a little more discreet about what he's asking to keep certain people from fussing. That's almost the exact thing someone might hear in their head when they catch his awkward pause on camera before he jumps right into...whatever it is he's going to say.]

So. Hey. Good day for freezing your ass off, isn't it?

[There's a series of deep playful barks that occur off screen. Focusing on the backdrop of the flat, one might spot a flash or two of black and white dashing away as Nate moves aside for his new companions. The camera focuses back on him pretty quickly, which is about the point that Nate decides he's going to ask a different question.]

Most of you don't know me, and I don't know most of you. Or maybe you do know me. I've apparently been around the bend here once or twice before. But let's forget about that and talk about venison. Game-y sort of meat, right? I'm sure deer is being declared an endangered species in these parts by now even with that in mind -- so if you're looking to turn some over I'm your man.

Name's Drake. And hey, if you have other food stores you're looking to get rid of, talk to me. Between you, me, and the wall I'm not quite ready to dive head first into the snow.

[Which is a lie, but nobody has to know that.]

[ The camera cuts on, and Jude stares at it for a few seconds. He hesitates, before leaping right into what he wanted to discuss here. ]

I realize because of our actions while we were stuck on the moonbase that we've changed things here on Earth, but just because the environment in Exsilium is different I think the chances are pretty high that the United Earth will come after us again now that we're back on the planet. And as far as I know we don't actually have any reliable means of uncovering any plots against us. There's no telling when and how they'll strike, and even if there was... do we even have any plans ourselves on how to deal with it? Unless we have advance warning and several days to move people back up to the moon I haven't heard about any ways to protect the Transports from the United Earth.

Besides that, I can't be the only one that would like to think of a defense plan that would protect the citizens of Exsilium as well.

Okay, so, two things.

One, anyone know how to reattach an arm? Like... fuck, I dunno, I guess you could just sew that shit back on. Or like... heal it on? Anyone got any magic wand-waving bullshit for that? Or science it back on, I guess, since holy fuck this is the moon, and all. Hey, are we over that part yet? Cuz I'm pretty fucking jaded. Turns out they weren't kidding when they said that thing about no one hearing you scream in space! They can't hear you bitch in space, either. It blows serious donkey balls out there, once you get your ass over the moonwalking part.

Oh, right, thing two. Anyone seen a decapitated head anywhere? Blond hair, rotted out eyes, answers to Luke? You just lemme know if you seen that little scamp, 'kay? He ran off somewhere, can't turn my back for a goddamn second on that fucker.

[ feel free to have spied Jan's missing head-trophy anywhere around the moon base :') it got shrunken and preserved somewhere along the line, and could pretty much have been left anywhere. ]

A coupla days ago, someone tried to blame a missing grenade on a cat playing with it like a ball of yarn. I don't think I'm too far off questioning their sanity, am I?

[The answer is 'no'. He's more or less posting this to be a troll. He thinks by now everyone knows where that missing grenade is... or where it was used if it happened to be used.]

[ the video recording is obviously accidental.

Riku's back is to the camera, though his hand is on the keyboard. it more or less looks like he's getting a good survey of the room; you can hear a subtle exhale before he turns his attention back. he notes the blinking light atop the netbook with a quiet noise, and then proceeds to speak clearly, simply: ]

Sora's gone.

[ he chuckles softly, wryly. he can't help it. ] Guess he decided to go slack off back at home.

[ his smile quickly fades, though nothing but the lower half of his face (nose and mouth) can be seen. and seconds after, the video turns off. ]

( [ private text to John Watson ] )

[ For a second, theres just crackling over the line and then Peter nervously clears his throat, the device held close to his chest. ]

Probably don't even need to ask if anybody's found a way home yet, otherwise none of us would even be here in the first place. I get it, we're all stuck here together and nobody even asked for this.

But I was just-- [ There's a long pause where he gathers himself up, a waver to his voice. ] I was just in the hospital and now i'm here, and I was just wondering if anyone had seen my brother. Nathan Petrelli? If this is the future and I'm here somehow, then maybe he is too.

Kind of a long shot, I know, but I had to ask. I just need to know if he's okay.

[ After another second, Peter exhales. ] Only have one more question -- do we really have to fight?

[ HELLO NETWORK Roslyn has a gift for you. that is, she is using something other than text over the network and it isn't encrypted. WHOA.

she also sounds pretty harried! what's up with that. ]

I have news.

The time equipment can't be reached. Security is too heavy even with these problems.

They knew this was coming. It's time inconsistencies, the result of our mission. Sometimes the smallest thing changes and it causes others - the butterfly effect, it's been called before. They didn't think it would be this fast, or this bad -

[ a pause, a quick intake of air. she's struggling to make sure she remembers and says everything. as she falls silent, a second voice speaks up. Tony Stark, for those who recognize his voice. ]

Their 'solution' for this problem of theirs: send us out to fix it. The ones who can be sent out, because they're not in danger of suddenly blinking out of existence due to her-mentioned butterfly effects. And that's also why all the new neighbours all the time – just to make sure there's enough people around to keep sending people out. Because the population, not growing. People coming in to replace the ones who have vanished.

[ another pause, this time filled with the noise of a hand over the mic, movement nearby and the murmur of muffled voices. then the hand lifts and she speaks again. ]

Bariyan. John. The children.

If there's a mission -

[ she lets that hang in the air and shuts off the connection.

not long afterwards, a few encrypted messages go out from Roslyn! ]

( encrypted messages to Robin Hood, Bariyan, John Watson, Riku )

[ When the feed clicks on, you're met with the confused but guarded face of Dean Winchester. He's seen these kinds of tricks before, but the setting has changed. ]

Okay, what the hell is going on? If this is some shitty trick then I ain't laughing. [ He's used to all sorts of crap but this is pushing it. ] Honestly, this bullshit about being in the future and fighting some battle? I know you're the creative type but come on.

So, answers. Give 'em to me before things turn ugly. I ain't sittin' around quiet and pretty this time.

[ Cue arms crossed. He's waiting. ]

[ For the briefest moment, an exhausted looking Martin sports a wide, red-and-black gash on his cheek. It's just your imagination, however—in seconds, a shimmering yellow-tinged light washes over his face, closing the wound until only dried blood is left. ] I'm sorry I haven't properly welcomed those of you who have just arrived. My name is Martin Septim, and together with Doctor John Watson, I run the transport clinic. Please, if you must travel around and outside the Hold, be careful. The natives are not happy with us, we're running out of medical supplies, and I don't have any magicka potions.

Thank you for your time. [ In a hurry, Martin cuts off the feed. ]

[ A man in a dirty, beige overcoat and a twisted, blue tie frowns deeply into the camera, his stony expression creasing in a mixture of confusion and annoyance. ]

It appears that I have been... recruited... very abruptly.

[ Frustrated, he purses his lips and glances away - one moment he had been residing on an island in the forest of Ithir for over a year, and the next he was being processed by the Initiative for some kind of resistance movement. Whether his lack of alarm is more due to his stoic nature or the fact that being snatched away without warning is old hat to him, who knows. ]

I have inquiries that have certainly been asked before - If there is a guide, I should like to read it.

[the video starts and john watson here comes into view! he looks a bit wary, rather exhausted even like he's running ragged or having a lack of sleep. even more so since he seems a bit busy and preoccupied in his clinic.]

So I realize a few people have gone missing before, now my colleague.. Martin Septim, some of you have been healed or helped by him here in the clinic or talked to him in the library, I can't seem to be able to find him. Or contact him. So I'm assuming he's gone now too.

Does anyone have an idea where they've taken them? Anything at all?

[he pauses, looks to want to add more but decides against it.]

Also something's been bothering me.. I've had a few cases with nightmares coming to the clinic, the dreams are similar to each other enough it doesn't seem like a coincidence. And a few terrified out of their mind about something that, I can't see or seem to understand.

[honestly? it's like the hounds of baskerville all over again.]

I still haven't figured out what exactly is going on, but something is. I'm sorry I can't be much help with that.

[something has to be causing it though. but what? airborne like the H.O.U.N.D incident? no fog that he sees, so some other way.. the doctor shakes his head clearly not figuring it out anytime soon.]

Try to keep on your toes.

[Sora isn’t exactly the greatest with computers. Really, it’s a miracle he’s figured out how to type a message at all, though ‘type’ is a loose term. The hunt and peck may or may not be attributed to suspicion that this little electronic device might eat him like the last one did. He's followed along with the whole introduction to the Initiative and doesn't seem to concerned about it - kinda normal for him, really - so he's just inside the housing building trying to figure this piece of junk out.

We're so sorry, Exsilium.]

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[It’s at this point that, since it’s clear mashing enter isn’t about to accomplish anything, he’s inspecting the little device, pressing this key and that key and moving the scroll and it’s only by a stroke of luck he discovers (accidentally) the video function. When it comes on, it’s showing an awesome view of… the upper corner of the ceiling. Currently inspecting the underside of the keyboard portion of the device while holding it above his head, he’s muttering to himself.]

What’s this thing even do? It looks kinda small for a computer. [The shot of the ceiling blurs as he shakes it, and then the world turns upside down to show a pair of very bright and very intense blue eyes.]

Oh, now it’s doing something. Uh. Hey, Tron. You in there? Or… another program… guy. Promise I won’t bite. Can you help me out? I’m looking for a friend— See, his name’s Riku and we got separated and then I showed up here. He—

Er. Hello?

—wait! [ the feed starts off clear enough, maybe not of the best angle. it's of the back of his head, the span of his shoulders, his hands banging on the doors because he wants back into that room. ] I wasn't done. I have more questions. I don't want to talk to them, I want to talk to someone who has more answers. You owe me that much! [ and everyone else taken captive but forgive him the self-centered notion.

he slams his fists a final time, where the guard has left him, instructing him he should speak with a banker. Nico's too furious to deal with any of that, trying to find some barrier of calm to seal it away in. but he's so sick of being brushed off and overlooked and given scraps of information that doesn't help anything.

the camera begins to shake, rattling where the device has been discarded on a bench because his emotions are getting the better of him. and then maybe the distinct impression seeps into your head that it isn't the lens shaking so much as it is the floor, or the earth beneath it. and just as the ground threatens to crack beneath him, he turns his face, sees a red light and slams the screen down with a sneer.

everything stops because the feed does. way to go on giving yourself away, champ. ]

{ ooc; also pimping out his permissions post here for future reference! }

[ WELL HEY, this is a face that hasn't popped up in a while! Artika's looking a little dirty, ragged, and generally unkempt, and not terribly pleased. ]

They need to stop— they all need to be quiet. [ uh. okay, Artika, if you say so. she darts a glare over to the side. ] I said to leave!

[ When she's satisfied that... whatever is over there got the message, she looks down into the camera again. ]

Killing them does not work. I tried. I hate them.

[oh, is it the thirty-first already? the feed clicks and it looks like john is somewhere having himself a drink.]

You know, can't say I really expected to be spending a birthday here. It happens with war, obviously this time we didn't exactly all volunteer.

[sigh, oh well, he rubs at his neck a little]

So, anyone care to join me for a pint? Or company, I don't mind, I could use some talk that isn't about all of.. well, this.

[ slight gesture to around. he doesn't know what to comment on the people going to their world for resources. feel free to action it up. ]

Sylar?

[ It’s the first thing out of his mouth as he turns on his comm because he wants to know if the other man is here, and he wants to know it now. ]

Anyone here know a guy by the name of Sylar? Gabriel Gray, maybe?

[ But after another few seconds of empty air-time, where all he does is look unhappy, Peter figures he might as well say something else. ]

You know... if this isn’t my government, my resistance, why do I have to fight? Why am I even here? There’s more important things going on back where I came from and I don’t have time to deal with this.

I’ve been to the future before, and I can’t stay here.

[ Have a heavy sigh. ] How am I even supposed to know any of this is real?

[the feed clicks on to show a woman, seemingly in her 30's, wearing armor and a serious expression. the last wavers a little when she looks into her netbook, a blip of uncertainty here and then gone; although she had spent some time scouring the network for any trace of Thalmor presence, putting herself out in the open even marginally is still a habit gone rusty from deliberate disuse.]

This is a strange device, no question. Magic, I'd guess - yet not quite. [a pause, then she moves on.] I'm not sure what a resistance group wants with an innkeeper, but they have one now anyway. Speaking of, I was told by that robed woman that my weapon would prove to be...."semi-sentient", I believe was the term.

[the camera pans down to show the katana in her hand. the blade looks very, very sharp, as if it had been honed to a new edge recently. the camera's view lingers upon it a bit longer than is strictly necessary before returning to delphine's face.]

Can anyone here verify that?

[another pause, longer this time. she's planned out what to say, but there's still a creeping sense of unreality now that the moment of truth has come.]

I'd also like to talk to one Martin Septim.

[that name, a legend in tamriel, had given her a start when she had come across it in her long study of this device. she's mostly convinced it's but a coincidence, a funny quirk of happenstance.....but delphine got by on her gut, not by blithely trusting odd turns of fate.

she does not give her own name just yet, preferring to wait and gauge any initial reactions.]

ooc: upon reflection...for the sake of making sense, martin's thread will happen last!

Okay. [ She's in her quarters, the little netbook is open, and she's got her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. She's already laid claim on a bedroom by putting her weapons on the bed, and right now she's just trying to figure out how to talk to the other transports. She wasn't expecting FaceTime, but hey. Here it is. ] So it's just a webcam.

[ She has a pretty intent look on her face. ] They give us this whole big speech about weapons that grow with us and sense our needs, they give us money, and a place to live. But they don't tell us anything about why. Why do we need weapons or training at all? Did I sleep through that part of the lecture or something? There's a lot of stuff missing here. Pieces that don't fit, holes in the puzzle.

They're telling us what they want us to do, but not the reason behind it. So... Anybody else here a - what'd they call us, transport - like me who wants to find the same answers?

'Sup my fellow people? So I've got two things on my mind, and I better get them out now while I'm thinking about them. [It was that darn 'ADHD'.]

So those chips? Anyone managed to take 'em out? If so, mind if I have a look? I know destroying them is bad - heard all about in on here. Just wanna look. Let's just say I have a knack with machines.

Also, those freaky masked guys? Anyone else notice you can't even barbecue them? Nothing hurts them! Like at all.

Oh, right-- but I was going to ask. There are other people around her with abilities, right? Like powers, that sort of thing. In your worlds, what causes them? [May or may not be fishing for whether or not the gods had a part in all these worlds.]

[ Erik is scowling at the camera. It is difficult to tell from the video, but he is lying on his stomach as he films this. There is an ugly looking bruise visible on his left cheek. ]

If anyone wishes to take a look at the secondary tracking chip that the Masked will install within someone upon destruction of the first chip, I have one here for study.

[ He angles the camera to show the spine clamp sitting upon a table. It appears to have been very carefully bent out of shape, just enough to loosen it without causing any excessive damage to the chip.

After a long moment, almost as an afterthought, he adds: ]

I am going to need a doctor.

[ a flurry of leafy outdoor motion! and it seems to have cut in mid-sentence, or at least mid-shout— ]

—wanted was to know if I had found North yet! [ oh a face!! big dark eyes, huge scowl, and like the biggest, fluffiest hooded jacket ever. ] They were very rude and I would not have minded hurting them, or maybe I would kill them, but they ran away, and now my back hurts. Raafa says people who run away are cowards, and not worth anything. I do not want to see any of them again.

[ a pause, one heavy, frustrated sigh, and then she looks a little bit less pissed. it's good to have that out of her system. no onto what really matters, in the middle of this violent occupation. ]

Also, I want someone to teach me to write.

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DESTROY THE BRANDING DEVICES KNOWN AS TRACKING CHIPS. It will alert the Masked of their destruction. They will find you, and re-chip you. The second place where they insert another chip, your spine, makes it harder and dangerous to remove. [ You know who found that out the bad way? This RomanImperial. Now he's chipped too, beating himself up for his lack of foresight. ]

[Xion has had a horrible day.

She remembers Axel beating her, and then she wakes up in a strange city, and then gets assaulted by two masked people. She fought them (and lost, which do not make her happy), and they grabbed her and pressed something against her back, which had done... something.

She didn't really want to use this thing, because it's so public, but she'd really like to know what's going on.]

Hello. I'm sorry if this is a weird question, but I just got here and don't really know what's going on. What are those people in masks doing?