[ When Apollo appears on the video feed, she doesn't quite look her usual, overexcited self. Physically she looks a little bit different than normal as well - a couple new tattoos on her chest/shoulder, slightly longer hair, that sort of thing - but for the most part, she's still recognizably Apollo. She takes a breath, getting ready to speak, but then just lets out a sigh that turns into a long, drawn out groan that ends with, ] Fuck.

[ But okay here she goes, she's straightening herself up and she's ready to address the public properly now. ]

So hey is this just a fuckin' thing now? You're here, then you ain't, then you are again a week or months later when really you spent a couple years back home and-- Gods, y'know what, no, forget it 'cause I don't even fuckin' care.

[ Despite her claim of not caring, her shoulders sag as she throws her head back and groans some more, and lets a brief, humourless laugh escape her as irrational frustration catches up to her again. ]

My harem! They're all gone. Well, then again, all the good ones got eaten by a fuckin' sea monster a couple weeks ago anyway but still, god I'm fuckin' here in the snow where wow it doesn't mean fuck all that I'm the Pirate King of Ce Monde, huh? Or Lord of the Espalion Isles, or the Sea Strumpet's captain - hah! That's great, that's perfect! [ Only it really isn't, she just has to bitch and force herself to laugh in a poor attempt to deal with this bullshit. ] I mean shit I know I'm improved and even more fantastic than fuckin' before right down to my tits, but shit sake's just fuck, fuck. Gods above and below, it's only been a few days here, hasn't it?

[ Another heavy sigh as she sinks back again. She seems to be feeling a little bit better now that she's got that off her chest though. ] Whatever, I'm back, I'm King of the Sea, and I'm gettin' myself a few goddamn drinks.

All right, I think I've finally found my way around this thing. And what better way to use it than broadcasting what I have so far of my newest work? I usually have Varric give my friend-fiction a quick read before I share it with anyone else, but I think this snippet is particularly fantastic. It's dedicated to a certain new sparring partner I ran into.

Settle down, everyone, Aunty Isabela's got a story for you all.

( Not explicit BUT NOT FOR GENERAL AUDIENCES EITHER. )

[The video feed opens to reveal a very stoic-looking monster. She's standing in front of an igloo with a large snowboard in hand.]

Merry Christmas. I am offering lessons of the snowboarding for interested people. Will be starting tomorrow morning.

One condition. You must not be holding feelings of violence towards yetis. [There are reasons behind this -- mostly because they may be snowboarding on hills that yetis frequent often.]

This holiday is for the giving to less fortunate, yes? Will make igloos for those people who are still being homeless.

[She's very excited to finally partake in the festivities -- can't you tell?]

[Kili is pink cheeked and grinning, practically bursting with excitement as he greets the network.]

Fili, I found a forge!

It needs...um...a lot of help. [He turns the screen to the forge, which has clearly been abandoned for some time, half buried in snow and ice and burnt out rafters, before turning it back to himself.] But I've asked around and no one's claimed it. It's just been sitting here. Can't believe we didn't see it earlier!

And for everyone else -- this is going to be a bit of a project. Any help you could offer would be great. We'll give you a discount on your first purchase with us! [Yes, Kili did just wink. Clearly he's in a good mood.] Trust me, once you have seen dwarvish metalwork, you won't want anything else. Very high quality, and Fi and I have been doing this since we were old enough to work a bellows. The sooner we get this running, the sooner we can start making anything you need -- weapons, tools, jewelry, even.

[The video feed shakes, and it seems like Kili's done some kind of little dance of excitement.] Fi, get over here!

[At eight-thirty in the morning the crisp voice of a young woman begins to drone.] So the holiday of Christmas is just around the corner. For those of you not in the know - of whom I'm sure there are many, I was such a one myself less than 2 years ago - Christmas is a winter festival, meaning its hallmarks are decoration in the red and green hues that are so rare in this desolate season. There is delicious food, and an exchange of gifts, and an overall pretense of universal goodwill. It is, as they say, the most wonderful time of the year.

That time of the year, Christmas Day, is the 25th of December. Celebrations often start earlier on Christmas Eve, or the 24th. If you're familiar with the calendar that governs timekeeping in Exsilium, you'll know that means we have less than a week left.

Now I happen to work with Vennett, the temporal programmer. There are two main things of public import I've learned from him. First, New York and Las Vegas are some of the most popular destinations for missions that procure physical goods and no other result. Second, encoding a unique destination is a non-neglegible drain on resources, especially when the goal of the mission is not related to the location.

If you intend to spend the holidays in Las Vegas, enjoying whatever entertainments it has to offer, I can't really stop you. On the other hand, I have a proposal for whoever else has Christmas shopping to do: We all go to New York, together. I've made this announcement early in the day hoping to organize an expedition this evening; if there are enough interested parties who consider this notice to be too short, a delay of a day or more is perfectly feasible. Either way, we meet in front of the Transporter at 6 o'clock.

And one more thing. Should you be repulsed by the location or perceived frivolity of this entire exercise, but still want to get out of here, for the sake of a [she says like it's a dirty word] 'vacation' or any other reason, why don't you consider the latest lovely selection of mission proposals? AI's new simulations are absolutely top-notch, and we've been getting excellent results already.

Alright, that's all for now. I hope everyone listening to this has a Merry Christmas when the day comes.

[ She's rehearsed this, but she still looks rather unsure of herself, though her smile is bright and entirely sincere. ]

I understand that if we need supplies of any sort, we can go on missions. I'm afraid I don't feel quite comfortable going by myself, but there are things I would like to obtain. If others are going on missions and would not mind another person tagging along, I promise I would be no trouble. Perhaps I could even help you?

If there's anyone who would be willing, please let me know. I'm afraid I do not have a great deal of tradeable skills, but I can cook well and I would be happy to help in whatever way I could. Thank you.

[ phew, okay, done. She survived. ]

[Gale takes a hold of his communication device as soon as the woman who greeted him is gone and scrolls through the "Introduction" app quickly before bringing up a video stream. His face is as emotionless as ever, but his voice is terse.]

My assumption is that this video is streaming to other devices of this kind.

My name is Gale, of Tribe Embryon.

I was given an adequate explanation as to why I am here. However, I was not given an explanation as to the cause of my being here, and I request information from others who may know. In all of these documents left on this device there is no file or volume detailing the how.

[The foggy memories of his comrades and their final battle aren't new to him. He only wonders why his body hasn't changed this time. Same clothes, same face. He can even feel the Atma Virus still running through his veins.]

This situation is neither uncommon nor strange to me, it is simply the means that remains illogical.

[And, perhaps as an afterthought;]

If there are any of Tribe Embryon present here, ...please respond promptly.

[ Hi so here's a video of this asshole sitting on the floor of her moonbase room, looking... messily festive. She's got a few strings of silver tinsel randomly wrapped around her head and shoulders, a string of blinking, multi coloured lights hanging over her wings, and there appears to be a snowman sticker stuck to her cheek. ]

Right so I've been packin' shit up and I realized I never said hey fuck you guys like I should've, so hey fuck you guys, especially you Earthy folk 'cause not a single one of you fucks told me about department stores. I mean fuckin' come on, look at all the shit they have -

[ She tilts the camera to the floor around her and wow yeah she sure has been robbing Walmarts. Actually you can't even see the floor itself, it's just... stuff, literally everywhere, with barely a thing in her suitcase (which still has all the tags on it) that's just laying there among the pile, open and abandoned. Apollo then sets the tablet back down on the bed so she can once again have her hands free. ]

Hey by the way, Donny and medfriends, got the shit you wanted. Got uh, little hammered there for a bit and I mighta temporarily lost the damn bag I put it all in but I got it again! You assholes still on the moon or didya take off to snowland already? And actually y'know what, speakin' of snowland, I'm gonna be real sweet and letcha haaaaave [ rustle rustle ] some of these too! ( an ooc but totally not ic cut, JUST IN CASE since she's gonna be real vulgar for a second here sorry )



By hey seriously it looks really goddamn cold down there and Metalhead ate the gloves I stole, anyone wanna help a tropical girl out and gimme somethin' to keep my fingers from freezin' the fuck off?

Hello again, Esilium. Long time no talk-- [Chloe's looking under the weather in terms of wear and tear only; her bright eyes actually bright today for a change. For the first time in months, as a matter of fact.] good god does it feel good to be free again. Never thought I'd be saying those words, but there you have it.

And don't worry, no more lectures on this end. No more daily mutineering announcements: I can catch up on what I missed in lock up by scrolling though the network on my own and I've got a more important issue that needs addressing first. [There's a brief pause before she adds, gently as possible:] Obviously anyone that wants to talk shop about what went down is welcome to, of course. Just-- you know. We're on the fast track to recovery around here from what it looks like, so I'm not about to force anything else down anyone's throats as long as that remains the case.

Thanks, by the way, for not unanimously voting for throwing us all out the airlock. [Nice to know not everyone wants them done in or worse.]


Right, though, to the point. I need someone willing and capable of doing tattoo work. Good tattoo work.

In this case I'm even willing to consider the magical sort so long as nothing additional goes along with it. Not really a fan of curses and poisoned apple nonsense.


Additional text addressed to Vanozza:

not sure if I should be thanking you for this or asking why you of all people are signing up to look after someone like me right now

[Last time Jaime posted as Blue Beetle, he kept to text. This time, he thinks that people might need a face - masked as it may be - to match to the words. His voice is put through a technological filter, just distorted enough for him to keep from being recognized. He's in the VR room in the most professional looking room he could think of, which is essentially a large table with wall-to-wall windows behind him looking out onto San Francisco - potentially recognizable to some canonmates as a loose copy of the Titans Tower meeting room, which is fairly generic anyway.]

So... hi. I'm Blue Beetle. A bunch of you already know that I've been trying to dig up as much info on the Chimera Project as I can - those are the cloned children, for you new guys - and I think I've got enough information to get going. Thanks to everyone who helped me out with this, by the way - you know who you are. I know everyone must be really tired of hearing people give long speeches by now, so I'll try to keep it short. [He smiles at the camera for an instant, a flash of white, human teeth behind the armour]

[He's making an effort to sound professional, but he's not used to public speaking. Sometimes, he looks down at his lap instead of the camera (consulting his notes as if he's giving a speech for class if he's honest about it) and he's stiff, uncomfortable, but his voice is even and steady. Small victories, and victories born of actually rehearsing.

Are you ready for a fun history lesson, Transports? Because you're sure as hell going to get one.]

( Non-IC cut! )

[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.

[Saul would've come to the network sooner, but his earpiece picked something up not long after the network came back online.

So, he waited.

And waited.

And now, he thinks, is as good a time as any for this broadcast.

He's seated in DITR's office; the interior looks much the same as any other bedroom on the base, but in lieu of the beds, there's a medium-sized desk. This is where he's perched in his usual pose with elbows on his knees, hands folded, leaning forward just slightly and addressing the camera — which someone else is holding — with an expression so grim it somehow almost seems amused.]

This is not how you get what you want.

[A pause. He appears thoughtful for a moment, then waves a dismissive hand at nothing and smooths down his tie.]

I mean, sure, it must've sounded great in theory. And I'd bet any amount of money that you all thought you had your bases nice and covered, buuut —

[Tch.]

Looks like maybe not, if the network being back online is any indication. Hi, by the way. Are you having fun yet? Because that whole lack of gravity thing — man, that was a blast. I'm just wondering, you know, if this is gonna work in your favor the way you'd all hoped. Messing with the systems is all well and good and yeah, okay, we get your point: you're mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore. Fine.

But I think — and this is just my lawyerly opinion — you're gonna have a hell of a time dealing with the fallout from this. And I promise you, Charlie, there will be fallout. Civilized fallout, of course, assuming no one gets hurt. I'll keep my promise if you keep yours.

[He grins, then winks.]

Anyway, I dunno about everyone else, but I'm waiting with bated breath for your next move. And if you need anything from us —

[A quick sweep of his arm to indicate the entirety of the room and, with it, the entirety of DITR's staff. Whatever anger he's been keeping at bay finally seeps through, Saul's eyes narrowing for the split second it takes him to say:]

Good fucking luck.

[And off goes the video feed.]

( A few minutes later, a text message for the DITR staff: )

( As desirable as hiding away in his room forever currently sounds, after over a week on the moon base, restlessness has hit Edgeworth hard. It is time to find answers to the questions that had been weighing heavily on his mind. Or, at least, the answer to one question in particular. )

It appears that much has changed since I was here last. ( He twitches slightly at that massive understatement, but reacquainting himself with his current situation had been troublesome, at best. ) I've kept myself abreast of recent events through the use of the network, but there is just one matter which I wish to enquire about further.

( He swallows, although his cravat obscures the nervous bobbing of his Adam's apple for the most part. Despite doing his best to keep his expression neutral, there is a decided tone of unease to his voice. )

If anyone knows anything regarding the whereabouts of my Shiba Inu, Pess, after ... my disappearance this past May, do let me know immediately.

[ He makes the bother to speak in Basic (which is really English except maybe accented weirdly, who knows) but cuts right to it and doesn't betray his own thoughts on the matter. ]

How are we certain the Initiative is the right side to fight for?

((ooc: oh, also. permissions))

The more I talk to other people here, the more it sounds like the UE's genetech is what we have to watch out for. While there are ways of shifting things in the past to lessen the effect, we have more pressing concerns right now. [like, oh, that nuclear missile strike]

Out of the other people who were taken, what innate powers do you have? We need to know just how much the UE got from us - and more importantly, what they couldn't get, because those powers represent our best offense and defense right now.

May as well start myself.

[Text]
high-level telepathy and telekinesis

[Gently:] Good morning, Exsilium.

[It almost sounds like a reminder.

Saul's looking just as businesslike as he did in his last network post, this time broadcasting from the Observatory. Elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, he leans in and addresses the camera with an expression that's a little too somber to pass for neutral:]

As of last night, Medusa's gone home.

[He hopes that's where she's gone, anyway. He's never sure what happens to people after they disappear.

After a moment, the look on his face softens.]

For the time being, I've assumed the role of Director of the Department of Initiative-Transport Relations. Medusa and I started this together back in May, when its purpose was to foster trust between us and the Initiative by way of hiring liaisons to make announcements on the Initiative's behalf. Friendly faces, right?

But it's clear to me now that there's no use for that in our current predicament, so the Department's getting a bit of a makeover.

( First of all... )

[There's a pause, then, as he runs a hand through his hair to move onto other business.]

( As far as supply runs are concerned... )

[And the feed cuts.]

[Johnny has a song for you, Exsilium. The video pops on to him with his brand-new acoustic guitar in hand, and starts to play a little tune for everyone. His playing is good, his gravelly voice pleasant, even if the song's a little sombre. Fitting as he looks a little sombre himself. When he's done, he shrugs slightly at the camera.]

Been a coupla' weeks since I had a guitar, so I felt like sharin'. It ain't my old one, but it'll do. Sounds pretty good, though.

Anyway. Just wanted to let folks know that I'm gonna be runnin' some missions for awhile to go pick some stuff up. Whatever it is we might need. I'm gonna be hittin' up the USA in the later twentieth century, so if I can get it there, I'll bring it home for ya. Even if it's somethin' small or stupid or whatever. Whatever'll make ya happy. Just name it.

I'm pretty much goin' out by myself, and only comin' back to drop stuff off. So I should be back every day or every other day. Ya shouldn't have to wait long for whatever ya need, then. But let me know before tomorrow mornin', or just leave me a message. I'll get back to ya.

[Feel free to ask now, leave him a message, or catch him over the week in between his trips.]

Why have we not returned to Exsilium? The danger is over, isn't it?

[Kili looks frustrated and tired. He's not used to being cooped up indoors like this, and no one can really blame a dwarf for not understanding radiation. and nuclear bombs.]

This place wasn't meant for living on. We can't even go outdoors! It doesn't feel like we're living anymore, merely... surviving.

And Kang, forgive me, but it seems it will be a while longer before I can continue with the blade my uncle forged you.

[This video recording takes place in a VR room with low power; the lights are patchy and gravity is only moon strength, making kneeling on the floor an easy position. Kanaya's words languish philosophically like students trying to pay attention in class.]

I've been part of the Initiative for a year now, if that's what the month being October again means. Bombs were falling on Exsilium for the first time back then, much like they did in May. I wonder how many of you remember that. Everyone was so surprised, back then, that the United Earth would attack us so directly.

That fact isn't very relevant to what I have to say, but it seems there is an unspoken tradition of celebrating these milestones and getting introspective about how often you ask yourself, "Is this day my last." [She seems to regard that with cynicism, reinforced by her pressing forward into business.] So to combat that existential doubt and make this post more than a waste of electricity, I'm here to announce my complete lack of anything better to do than go on missions.

[Remembering something else and turning sad, consolational, she goes on a tangent.] Madoka, if you're watching this, I'm so sorry about everything that's happened, and if there's anything I can do for you now, please just let me know.

[That taken care of, detachment gets easier.] Anyway, I've seen a fair share of posts about having a desired end for a mission but being apprehensive about going alone. I'm in pretty much the opposite position, having the cumulative experience of three missions and no objective. One solo, two paired, all successful.

In light of our current technological status having a partner is especially prudent if safety is of any concern at all. In case my age is giving viewers any doubts, let me assure you I have the strength and speed to offer adequate protection from most earthly threats.

Finally... it seems that I'm one of about five Transports aware of and interested in the virtual reality system prior to our lunar plight. [It's a little funny to her.] I heard about it before it went moonstream, you might say. So if you need help constructing assets for your digital home or office or what have you, that's something I can assist with as well.

[Just then, the power fails, turning out the lights, though the view of the room isn't entirely black considering its occupant's glowing skin. Kanaya looks up at the dark ceiling, frowns a little, then sighs and reaches out to the communicator (already beginning to drift for lack of gravity) and cuts the feed.]

Right, so. Public service announcement.

[the guy on the screen epitomizes scruffy teenager: leather jacket, hair in need of a brush, days worth of stubble on his face. those familiar with peter might think that he seems kind of extraordinarily calm. actually, those unfamiliar with peter might think that too, considering their situation. he doesn't seem happy, exactly, not drugged or faking it, just...really zen.]

Big brown wolf you might see wandering around sometimes? That's me. And yeah, I know the teeth are super impressive, but despite all rumors and recent shenanigans to the contrary, bloodlust is not my personal MO. A wolf is a wolf, though, not a labrador. Don't try to hurt me or touch me while I'm eating and everything will be cool.

End public service announcement.

[he makes to cut the feed and then pauses.]

Oh, and the other guys are okay now. Claws retracted and all that. If they become not okay, do us all a favor and call me along with the local hero squad. That kind of shit is what happens when you bring werewolves to the damn moon.

Right, last thing. Stanley, I still have a bunch of your stuff if you want it.

[The audio clicks on and starts almost immediately. The voice is calm and unhurried.]

Welcome, to the new people that've joined us. We're in more cramped quarters than we're used to, but we'll have to get along. Hopefully we'll be back on Earth sooner rather than later.

My name is Blaine and I plan on going on supply runs. There are the obvious things we need, like food and clothes, but any tools, building supplies, or other specifics that people need have to be written down. I'm offering, but can't promise, that I'll fulfill requests when I go back to the past for supplies in exchange for whatever you have to barter with.

If you have something you need, send a text attachment of your list. Include your name, the items you need, and what time period I'm likely to find the items. Include descriptions if it's something you're not sure others would know about, just to be on the safe side. We don't have space to bring back unneeded items. Also include what you've got for exchange.

When I fulfill your request, I'll contact you to come pick it up. If I can't get what you asked for, I'll let you know so you can try yourself or get someone else to try.

That's all.

[The audio clicks off.]

[Flora appears on the feed. There's a deep worry to her eyes, but also a focus. Soon after, a hologram of a solemn, dark-haired man fills the feed in her place, while her voice is heard off-screen, urgent, but steady.]

Hello, everyone. Has anyone seen this man around the base, or in Exsilium, if you're still there? He usually goes by Berserker, or maybe you know him as something else, but I can't find him. He was with me yesterday, and he was supposed to be, today, but he's not. I don't know where he is, and we're running out of time.

[Saying it aloud again just makes it all the more real, tightens that noose of tension and anxiety around her neck just a little more and she finds it hard to breathe. She's trying very, very hard not to come apart at the seams, but it's just too much. After everything else that's happened, and is going to happen, this is just too much.

But she can't come apart, not yet, because she hasn't found him. She still has things to do.

She reappears on the feed.]

I don't know if he's just happened to have gone back home, but there might be a chance that he hasn't. [That she can't be certain of anything, especially on today of all days....]

I know we're all busy with so many things right now. I'm not asking anyone to go out of their way, just if you've happened to have seen him. If you know anything at all, please, I would really appreciate it if you could let me know.

Thank you.

A great number of lives have been lost, and in exchange, we now have sanctuary for the time being. I'm sure many of you are weighed down by guilt because it was your lives their sacrifice saved, considering they are the ones native to this world.

[Which is so stupid, but he isn't here to make enemies, so.]

But I would ask you all not to lose sight of our goals to focus on the dead - those lives needn't go to waste. If you strengthen your resolve by using the memories of those who died for whatever reason, justice, revenge, whichever term is more comfortable, you can fight to overthrow the United Earth with an even greater vigor.

Whether or not the Initiative intends to save those lives by altering the past, or simply rebuild and move forward, you all must persevere. If you let this beat you, then the United Earth may as well have already won and things will get so much worse. No matter how many times you fail, as long as victory is still possible, you mustn't give in. [After all if he can keep fighting God since the beginning of time you can all slaughter each other for a bit longer, he figures.]

My name is Louis Cyphre, and as long as I'm here, you all have my blessing in your efforts. Consider me your...Guardian Angel. [Ha Ha Ha.]

[He was about to end the feed before remembering something.]

And out of curiosity, are any of you still withholding your assistance from the Initiative?

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

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

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

[a beat; a breath]

We're not abandoning the Exiles.

( this got long winded )

[ When the feed turns on, there's a poorly-shaven and generally scruffy guy in a labcoat peering critically into the lens. He might not look familiar, but when he speaks, Transports who have been around for a while may recognize the voice. ]

This thing on? Hey, looks like we're broadcasting. I'm a genius, as usual.

[ The view shifts as he tucks whatever is broadcasting into the front pocket of his shirt, showing a hallway within the Hold. His voice drifts in from off-screen: ] We got the best of the best having a powwow in here. You know, the fate of all of Exsilium, and stuff like that. They're gonna tell you guys when they're done, but I say we pick up the pace a little. We're on a tight schedule, you know? [ The view strides forward as he makes for a closed door. ] Just our little secret, alright? I'm not even supposed to be on your fancy network — like they could ever actually kick me off.

[ His voice drops with the last part as he pushes open the door. Inside are ten Initiative employees, and Saul and Medusa, seated at a table and looking terse. Someone shoots a frown toward our loyal broadcaster, who mutters an apology for his bladder and slides into the only empty seat. ]

( Cut for length and a transcript! Sort of. A prose transcript, because who really wants to read the word-for-word. )

[ The talk winds down, and someone near Saul and Medusa mutters to them, something along the lines of, I don't envy your job, telling everyone. Saul, already pissed and definitely having been on the "no" side of the voting, lunges for the guy — but is restrained by Medusa's hair. The view shifts again as the broadcaster lifts the camera from his pocket, turns it around to grin weakly into it. ]

Done and done, pals. It was the pen all along! Ha, told you I was a genius, noooo one feels like listening to poor old Sponde…

[ There's a quick raising of angry voices, but the feed ends and cuts them off. ]

[[ooc; Saul, Medusa, anyone else in DITR, and possibly the NPC will be responding to questions here, but also feel free to use this as a general IC discussion space!]]

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

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

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

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

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

[ Clang! Clang! ]

Argh, no, Master! Put more of your back into your swings!

[ Said one Saber as she's turning on her tablet and placing it on a table, face turned over her shoulder. The recipient of her yelling is none other than Coby, whose hands are blackened with armaments and a piece of hot steel lying on an anvil. ]

My hands aren't exactly even! I'm not certain it'll come out right!

[Despite how illogical it was for him to be tempering and striking a heated template of a sword with his fists, Coby continued bashing them, especially as Saber commanded more of it. His fists struck the steel, sounding as if they were hammers on the anvil.]

Wouldn't it be more practical for me to use the hammer?

Bah, that is besides the point! This is a test, is it not? Put more of your strength into the steel; if you cannot muster even that much, not even a hammer will change a thing!

[ Says the woman holding an actual hammer and swinging it around threateningly. Then she turns her attention back to the feed with a small smile. ]

Greetings! It has been some time since I graced the network with my presence, but I do so with a matter of importance. Having resided in this world for a lengthy period, I have come to notice that many of the weapons I have seen, especially those given by the Initiative, are severely lacking in taste, strength, and refinement! There is hardly any artistry or beauty in them, and not even imbuing them with a special little charm gives them enough luster to be looked upon as mediocre pieces.

Therefore! [ She places the hand that holds the hammer on her chest. ] I have begun to take it upon myself - and my Master - to design works of exceptional beauty and lethality! You will not go wrong when you choose my wares, and if you need an example--

[ Saber raises her free hand and a crimson longsword materializes with a flash of fire. Pride shines in her eyes at its appearance before letting it stand in the ground as she readdresses the feed. ]

My finest work, the Aestus Estus. Considering the Initiative gives a paltry sum as an allowance, I am willing to negotiate prices. Master, do you wish to have a word in before I close this?

( and the master's word is... )

[The tablet has been carefully propped on a library table against some books in order to capture video of Charles from the mid-chest up. Or, initially a close up of his face all frowny and concentrating and then he pushes away to lean back again.]

Hello. I'm Professor Charles Xavier, something of a recent arrival, although, it seems as if I've been here previously. If you happen to remember me from before the beginning of this month, I'm afraid I don't remember you, but I'd be fascinated to know anything you can tell me, if you don't mind.

I'll return to that in just one moment, but there's a rather important thing I have to get to first. The locals, those who have been living in Exsilium long before we were ever summoned here, are not happy with the current state of affairs. And can you really blame them? They've been told we're here to help, but they've no proof of it, not when it involves time travel and reality modification. All they can see is the negative attention we draw from the United Earth, and the preference given to Transports over them. So, this is my proposal: we form a team to protect them. A team that visibly makes an effort to prevent harm from coming to the Exiles, that protects them where the Initiative might not. It won't be easy, especially right now, at the beginning. They don't trust, or like us. But with time, if we demonstrate our willingness to coexist and use our resources to help them, there is no reason for us to remain at odds. Now! What is a volunteer service without volunteers--which is where you lot come in. If any of you are inclined to help, or even if you only want to ask questions, do speak up. The more of us there are, the better use we'll be.

As for my previous self, it seems as if he'd, or, I'd managed to secure funding, and a building of some sort for the purposes of, well, creating a school. I've really no idea if any of his arrangements carried over to me, but before I go looking into that, I'd prefer to know how far he managed to get. Did any renovations occur? Where is the building to begin with?! If any of you know anything about this school, I'd be terribly grateful for your help.

[He smiles, and then leans forward again, to switch it off.]

[babydoll is feeling rather sociable today, finally feeling like she can ask a few more questions than she normally would. of course, that isn't much for her. she never likes to pry too much into peoples' personal lives unless they've given her the permission to do so.]

When I first offered, it was a while ago, so I'd like to offer once more. If anyone needs help with training or handling certain weaponry, I can help.

[she pauses, eyes wandering away from the device for a quick moment before focusing at the camera again.]

I was also wondering- what sort of things did everyone do before arriving in Exsilium? What type of jobs?

[it's also the fact that she's from a much earlier time than most of the transports around exsilium that's making her curious. living in the 60s only gave her so much leeway.]

[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 camera is on Renee in Nondescript Alley #9, not wearing the mask that usually renders her faceless. She figures unless she wants to walk around with the mask 24/7 she'll need people to get used to seeing her normal face and avoid associating with her Question identity.]

Haven't had much use for this thing so far, but I'm getting desperate so I figured I'd give it a shot. Tell me someone knows where I can get a drinkable cup of coffee in this dump. Anyone who does gets a cup for themselves on me.

[No she's not going to give her name and background. If you need it she's likely already found you or will find you. Pardon her attitude, recovering alcoholic/ex-cop in a city with more bars than coffee places does not make for a happy Renee. Still, at least she's offering a reward. She taps her finger on the side of the computer for a second, then looks vaguely irritated at something and goes on]

Also, I've been hearing stories about tension between arrivals and exiles, not to mention inter-group conflict. Anyone doing anything about that? Doesn't seem to be any sort of police force.

[On screen is Halfpipe with a smile that lights up the whole of her blue-tattooed face. She's in what looks to be a seedier district of the city, but not many Exiles are around.]

This place gets more and more like my world every day.

[At which she shifts the camera to focus on a point behind her--what several people will recognize as one of Exsilium's brothels.]

I'm curious, guys. How different is it here, compared to your homes? And if it is different, is it in good ways or bad ones?

Oh, and I'm Halfpipe, by the way.

Do you know, I've been here for a year now. Oh, how the time flies, or whatever other cliches you might like! But then with all of this time flying, I'll get straight to business and stop wasting it.

I'd like to suggest a celebration. I personally will be celebrating a year here, but I'm certain we can find a good handful of other causes, if you're in need of one to allow yourself a little food, drink, and dancing!

Ah, let's see… we might celebrate that the Initiative has finally come to its senses and realized the value of a therapeutic trip to the beach. Yes? Lovely, that one. I'm sorry to any of our new arrivals who've missed it! Or if you're not a fan, for some reason, of sun, water, and half-naked people, then maybe we might celebrate a favorite holiday from home. Calendars between here and our collective homes hardly match up, so it shouldn't be any trouble at all if it isn't the right time of year for it. Or if you're of a grimmer persuasion, perhaps we might simply celebrate the fact that, despite the United Earth's occasional brutal efforts, most of us are still alive.

So then. What do you think? Shall it have a theme? I've already done a masquerade in Versailles, it would be unsightly to do a repeat performance. I don't suppose there are any suggestions? Food requests may be delivered to Adrasteius, who I'm quite certain won't mind at all managing the banquet again. He's very agreeable like that.