[This query brought to you by a pretty handful of missing puzzle pieces, not that you'd know, since Lenalee has no intent to justify or explain that imagery, nor to keep picking at scabs until they fester.]

We've already seen how the smallest change made can rewrite the entire history of this world. People are unborn, warheads are undropped... because we've cut out the circumstances which led to their happening.

How do you think that it might be the same for us? Transports come and go so often here and no one knows why. Whatever we do, we are always altering chances, there is no reason not to consider they could also be our own. That someone arrived on a day no longer existing may suddenly leave, or return by new circumstance, or forget they were ever here before.

It may be that we don't "go home", just. "Never arrive".

[ about ten minutes after broadcast, through careful squinting and experimentation, the feed is locked from Gilbert Nightray ]

[ bright and early, splayed on the network feed in somewhat old-timey poster fashion: ]

IMMEDIATE HELP WANTED

with the

Refurbishment and Construction

of

Shelters and Outposts

for purposes including but not limited to

Accommodation, Assembly, Defense, Medical Aid, Technical Support, Supply Reserves, Agriculture

and other prospective services to Transports and other associates.

All forms of assistance and input welcome and encouraged

including but not limited to technical aid, general labor, delivery and supply, security, liaison with third parties, and crew support.

Inquire in this post for further details.

----

( video version, within the same post )

(( OOC: APOLOGIES FOR THE SLOWDOWN IN REPLIES I'll get to everyone's as soon as I can ))

It doesn't look like this winter's going to go away anytime soon, so I've got a question.

Any advice on how to keep a cold-blooded person warm aside from bundling her up layers upon layers of clothes until she sinks in the snow from the sheer weight of it? I think she'll have trouble moving after a while too.

She'll probably be okay but she got really cold in a winter-based amusement park attraction once. It's worrying. ( ´△｀)

[LOCKED from momo kisaragi;]
That aside the real reason I'm posting this is because I have no idea how to celebrate people's birthdays but my sister's is coming up next month (not that I'm not worried about you, friend).

She's never had a birthday party with friends before so I kind of want to get something together? Any advice would be nice and if anyone's friends with a MOMO KISARAGI, that's her. Her birthday's next month, so if anybody can drop by once it's planned or chip in...

I don't have a place yet either so ideas or offers on that would be nice. [He'd ask Flora or Kido if they could do it at their place but if it's planned right under her nose, even Momo would notice...]

( Cue one video post with Mr. Casey, looking a couple years older. The thin grey sweater covers up all the major markers of change in terms of more tattoos and more scars, save for a thin one running across his throat. Maybe the light obscures it - maybe it doesn't. The real thing is that he looks calmer, less uncomfortable with himself, even doing a video post. More steady, less haggard. Like he actually might sleep instead of being constantly run down. )

Uh, hey. I just-- thought I should um, let p-people-- know I'm back.

( Actually he got a little while ago, as those living with Max probably know, but he's sort of been sticking around her pretty constantly all that time. Not being around when she returned to the house seemed like a bad idea, all things considered. )

Or if you knew uh, a guy c-called-- called Atlas. That was me, too. I don't um, don't really do the secret identity thing anymore. Just if anyone wanted to uh, track him d-down.

( he takes a couple more pauses when he speaks, goes through more slowly, less of the urgent need to jsut spit it out from before.

Well. There's... not much more to say. Really he needs to go and catch up with people one on one, talk to the clinic, find his friends, see how things are. This just felt necessary.

A little nod to the camera, a slight smile, and the feed cuts. )

What marks the 'new year' depends on where you're from, though I guess the Gregorian calendar never really wore out it's popularity, from the looks of it. Just a little past the change in sunlight at the solstice - and that's always been more of a 'new year' to me, even if it doesn't match the calendar - and we've got a month or two to go before the lunar new year, though I don't know the calculation off hand.

But as we can mostly agree on this one - here's to surviving another year despite the challenges, and may the coming one be better than the last.

[ it had been a just one night since oz's departure and alice had more or less kept quiet. after spending a night searching fruitlessly, she spent the rest of the dark hours sulking with (1) gilbert nightray until they eventually fall asleep, buried in the sheets like sad children who have lost the dearest thing they held at night.

in the morning alice wakes up and her first instinct is to cry, but the second is something more violent... and of course she goes with that instead.

THERE'S A LOUD BANG. something appears to have fallen and shattered, although it's hard to say when things are happening off-screen. and before anyone can attempt to understand what just happened, they get an earful from one angry looking young girl shouting into the tablet. she never did care for this thing, but at least she knows now that someone will be able to hear her. ]

THEY TOOK OZ AWAY! I WON'T FORGIVE THEM. [ her head's clear but it's hard to stop yelling when you're so upset. if someone could hear her, feel threatened by her,

help her

then she might actually have time to think and calm down. ] How dare they take him away without my permission? Don't they know its the master's job to take care of their servant? How am I suppose to do that when he's not here? Huh? SOMEONE GIVE HIM BACK! NOW! I'm waiting!

[ don't be fooled by her tough exterior, she's gonna burst into tears any minute now.

oh. there you go. the tears roll down. ]

This is all your fault, idiot! [ blames the ne..twork... ] Bring him back... useless! Useless....

[The feed starts up to Maya... holding up what appears to be a really cute and cartoony doodle passingly resembling Dist]

[She looks Very Serious (this is gonna end well)]

Guys...This is important! This little guy [says the five foot nothing shrimp] is missing! He needs his walkies and three meals a day, and he likes to sit in the snow and whine for 'Jade', who I guess he used to follow around! If we don't find him soon, he might freeze or starve to death, so let me know if you've seen him!

Um, his name is Dist, but he likes to answer to Rose too [she shrugs and makes ‘weirdo’ motions] and sometimes he gets yappy, so just compliment him and he'll probably settle down. It's okay to muzzle him, I don't think he bites... but just let me or Jaime know if you've seen him, okay? He--

[And cue Jaime shuffling on into the room, a ratty old paperback tucked underneath one arm. He looks over at Maya quizzically before coming to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder at her picture. Slowly, as if he may not like the answer, he asks:] Maya? What are you doing?

[Maya regards Jaime Very Seriously] He's missing! I was going to put up pictures on milk cartons... but I couldn't find any.

[Jaime nods, looking unsurprised to hear his previous suspicions confirmed, then plucks the picture out of her hands.] He's a person, not a dog. You don't muzzle people. [Okay, you might have wanted to muzzle Dist, but his point stands. He addresses the feed now.] Don't bother with the search party - he's gone back home.

[Same difference! ] Huh? How do you know?

His name's off the network. I checked. Which is what you should do before trying to organize a search party. [He's not looking at the feed anymore, distracted as he is by Maya's drawing.] Hey, this isn't bad.

Thanks! Wait… so he went home after all? You’re sure? [She looks Deep in Thought About This… Almost like she’s about to say something profound...]

[Jaime looks a little curious as to where she’s going with this, but he gives her a one word reply anyhow.] Yup.

[So about that something profound] …Let’s go raid his room!

[Jaime looks momentarily pained, opens his mouth, then shuts it again.] Clean out his room,[he mutters as he reaches to turn off the feed, having evidently given up on impressing this fact to Maya.] It's called cleaning out his room.

[He’s totally going to raid Dist’s room with her. He just phrases it a little more politely.]

[OOC: Blue is Jaime and purple is Maya!]

Hello, I hope everyone's New Year is off to a good start so far! I just had a couple of questions - well, one's a question and the other's more of an offer. Anyway, say that you've made a New Year's resolution to face one of your fears. Maybe even several of them! What would be the best way to go about trying to conquer those fears?

[Carol sounds a little enthusiastic about her next question - it's the first time she's bartered all on her own. Even if she has no idea what the heck she's doing.]

And the other thing I wanted to ask was if anyone would like to do some trading. I just came back from a mission with a fair amount of rice, so if anyone has any offers, I'd be glad to do some trades for it.

[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.]

[A few hours the transports start arriving in the new facility, someone interrupts the moving frenzy with this cheerful broadcast.]

I'm starting to think there's a lot these people don't tell us before we get ushered along to where they want us.

[Korra snorts, crossing her arms over her chest in a clear sign of agitation.]

Don't know if you guys knew this already, but that allowance they used to give us before? Not happening here. Looks like we're pretty much on our own for food and supplies. Anyone want to have a look around the area with me, see what we've got to work with here?

[She grumbles something like "could have told us this before we started moving, jerks".]

Oh yeah, if anyone needs to know how to keep warm in the snow, I can probably give a few tips, too.


(ooc: There is now an ooc post to sign up for the exploration!)

[The voice is that of a young woman speaking in a crisp English accent. She sounds entirely unamused, though not necessarily resigned to her situation.]

If the circumstances here are truly as they've been presented to me, it would seem that my travel plans will need to be revised and that I shan't be leaving for Paris in the morning after all. More pressing, however, is the lack of access to my own finances. I find this irritating, to say the least.

[A girl's gotta have some cash. Real money, too, not this fake stuff they're touting. This is absolutely ridiculous. She sighs, voice taking on a slightly more sympathetic tone.]

As I said, if I can't go to Paris tomorrow, I shall have to alter my plans. I am in dire need of a tailor. Someone skilled. Not a dressmaker. I shall impart the details of my commission to said tailor, if and when we are introduced.

At present I have nothing to barter with aside from my good name and promise of repayment at a future date. And with all these witnesses, that ought to be enough. My name is a very good one, if that matters to anyone at all.

[There's a deliberate pause before she speaks again.]

Though if anyone should have pertinent information on how one might go about securing passage away from this this... settlement, I should be much obliged for your assistance.

[ 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 )

[Peeta turns on the camera and smiles warmly.] Hey, so I know it can be hard to find good gifts, and since Christmas has a lot of gift-giving, I thought I'd offer help! If you want fresh baked goods or a drawing, let me know. A sample of my art is attached.

[Attached is a drawing like this. (Note: Drawing belongs to x, not me)]

And I don't really know anything about the mutiny. [He was told to stay out of it.] But I hope we remember that we're all that each other has. We need to stick together.

[Lea's voice is quiet, strained. Anyone who knows him can tell there's something really wrong that he's trying not to let show--that's why this is audio only.]

So I have a question. Whenever we get back to earth and all... would, ah... would anyone be interested in making a memorial of some sort? I mean I know that the people who come and go here aren't necessarily dead, but. Well, enough of them don't come back that it kinda seems that way.

I just think it'd be kinda nice to have something to remember them by.

Memories are all some people have, after all.

[While Coby is lacking when it comes to fully understanding how private filters work despite their ease of use in most circumstances, his concerns about their necessity rarely ever overlap in that same vein. So, when he decides to orient a message towards a handful of people all at once for the sake of catching their attention, he doesn't realize how an already rude concept can get progressively worse when introduced to everyone else, especially those not particularly involved.

Particularly as he turns on his camera in starting a video post, sticks two fingers in his mouth and releases an inhuman, extremely loud and even more shrill whistle from his lips.]

I have an announcement for my few students among you.

[Was it mentioned that this was done at 2AM?]

In 0300 hours, I'll be commencing a Virtual Reality Session which will entail experiences from a war you may never have heard of in history. As we've experienced the United Earth gaining superhuman abilities well beyond our scope, I believe this time of turmoil may be put into perspective if you experience something very similar.

Ah. For clarification, I had been looking to catch the attention of... Johnny D'Amico, Saul Goodman, Sango and Korra.

"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger."

We protect those who cannot protect themselves. [ her voice is stronger for the translation that had followed and as she continues talking, allison's tone remains even (though it's not hard to pick up the passion behind it). ]

That's the code I took on back home. The circumstances were completely different, of course, but I've been thinking a lot about it lately. Maybe things here aren't quite as dissimilar as I'd thought. [ there's a pause as she takes in a deep breath. there's a lot of doubts in her mind about everything, but she doesn't want any of them to be heard. ]

I know it might be too soon to start talking about some kind of official protective force - we're still in the process of deciding on a code, or a council, or something else entirely - but.

But even if it's unofficial, I want to do something. I don't know if it will help, but a lot happened this past month and I just want to make sure that no one feels unsafe or scared again.

If you're interested, come talk to me. Even if it's for something as simple as maybe learning to protect yourself in a bad situation.

Hi! Hi again, to people I know already, hello for the first time, to anyone I haven't met yet. I'm Ashraf Salib, one of the heads of the clinic, high priest, snazzy dresser… [ He waves a hand. ] General things like that.

So, I'll get straight to the point. In the wake of the mutiny, I've seen a lot of talk on the network that I haven't seen before. Establishing a code of conduct, uniting… there was even some discussion of who you personally look to as a leader. Whatever your opinion of the mutiny may be, you have to admit that it's sparked some new subjects for us. And I'd say they're things we've been needing to talk about.

It isn't just a matter of wresting control from the Initiative, I think that was overly hasty and shortsighted. I think what we should be looking at is how to take control of ourselves. We're a really big group up here, with over three-hundred of us. That's a lot of voices to be heard at once, especially when none of them have much in the way of a recognized authority.

So, I think that should change.

My suggestion would be a council, voted on by the entire Transport body from a number of nominations. The people that we most trust are the ones we should have speaking for us — deciding for us. Because someone needs to. That we're still locked in this base after over two months up here should be evidence enough that it's difficult to achieve much of anything with no one calling the shots.

I've got some specific ideas about the organization of this council, which I wrote down and can attach here, but I want to hear from you. How should we organize ourselves? How can we decide who to listen to? This won't work if we don't all agree to it, and we need to agree on something. We're in a precarious position up here that frankly can't last, and it's past time that we take it into our own hands to change that.

( Council Specifics )

What's up, Exsilium?

[ ... ]

We! We're totally up, get it?

[ A nervous laugh. Ella pls. ]

I swear it sounded better in my head. Anyway! Welcome, newbies! I'm Ella, Ella Ellis and yeah that's my name. For those that don't know yet, I'm the person that gets you whatever you want, no matter what. Unless it's like, really complex. Or alive. Or a hydrospanner. I mean, seriously Han, the damn thing has exploded like ten times in my face already. Sure you don't want a battery powered screwdriver?

[ Not that she can really do one of those without the risk of explosion either. ]

But yeah- you need something, you ask me. I'm still not charging for this, so hey, better make good use of it. And yet I didn't want to talk about this, or at least not only this. I keep getting sidetracked.

So for the ones that were around on August, I hosted a pretty kickass party, right? September wasn't so good for parties because we were too busy, er, you know. Plus we got bombed and not in the fun way. And now we're on the Moon, which is kinda cool, but you know what's cooler?

[ Imaginary drum-roll! ]

VR Rooms! I've been messing with them, and I have decided I can totally host a party inside of one of those. Make a nice, big house, with an even nicer, bigger back yard, maybe put some grills, some games, a pool, make it something more afternoon-evening to let everyone relax for a little bit. And something like a college party in the evening, although all I know about keggers and the like comes from movies so some help would be appreciated.

[ Obligatory pause to breathe. ]

But yeah, it's totally happening, sometime soon in a close VR room to your Moon base. Probably on the last week of the month, but you've been notified! I'm now open for ideas and suggestions. Just like the last time, food and whatever will be handled by yours truly, and the music will most likely be handled by Claudia, I guess. So if there's any real party planner among us, you might want to step up and give a hand.

This totally trivial message ends here.

[Han Solo]

I actually have a working hydrospeanner, but I need you to look at it to make sure it actually does what is supposed to do. This is the first time I've created something I don't have in my world, so.

[Lisbeth Salander]

The tobacco is ready, if you still want it.

[ He looks tired and slightly less chipper than usual, but that's basically the theme of the week, so no surprises there. Right to business, then! ]

Adrasteius is gone, which means I'll be taking over the Transport Clinic — which I guess can just be shortened to the Clinic, now. [ sigh. :c ] We've got people organizing supply runs, which is great, but we're always open to have a few more volunteered hands around. No training or previous experience required, promise, just let me know if you're interested.

Anyway, I hope everyone caught AI's announcement, about the revival technology getting left behind. Consider this a friendly reminder to try to avoid dying, alright? If there are any accidents, on missions or otherwise, I have a spell to resurrect the recently dead. Not that that means you should start getting reckless, because my supplies for it are limited. If anyone else has a similar ability, now would be a really, really good time to speak up about it.

[ He pauses here, starts to add a smile, and... rubs his hands over his face instead. He mumbles something that sort of sounds like don't even have a medical wing yet, and ends the feed. ]

[The video comes on. Toph stares into it paradoxically, her sightless eyes open a little wider than usual, but her expression as bored as it's ever been.]

This place sucks, so I'm leaving forever. Bye.

[The more decrepit areas of the city, a far distance from the Hold, can be seen in the background of the video before the feed cuts off.]

[ 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.

Hey, does anyone know where I can get some supplies and survival gear? I'm thinking of heading out of the city for a little bit to get my bearings and see what's out there.

[ the feed flicks on to show (1) one king and the head of (1) one direwolf looking over his shoulder. the wolf snorts at the device, lips curling to bare sharp white teeth. he was no love for the tablet it seems. ]

Greetings Exsilium, I have a query for you.

[ his words are a touch uncertain. ]

I know it is not queer for men to disappear and then return, it happens often enough to be considered normal on this island. When they disappear they either return with no knowledge of Exsilium or they return changed; older, wiser than they were before.

Has any ever returned unchanged? [ he understands the reason behind his disappearance, though is by no means pleased, yet he feels unchanged and it bothers him. mayhaps it is nothing and he worries for naught, mayhaps. either way it will not hurt to at least ask. ]

[Somebody's looking grumpy today, and it's not even morning this time.]

Okay so I need some help [Yes, she's admitting it, don't get too excited.] and this is supposed to be the best way to get people listening.

Anybody here good at meditating? You know, all the peace and tranquility and inner focus mumbo jumbo. I kinda need some tips, 'cause the "relax and let your mind be free" thing? Not really working for me.

[Sorry, Tenzin. There's just too many thoughts going on in here.]

There's something else. I'm looking for another air element user to spar with. [Maybe she'll get lucky and everything will just click for her when she's under pressure again.] Any takers?

[ allison's decided to record this from the rooftop of one of the slightly shorter and less damaged buildings because why not; especially when the air is crisp and cold and helpful in clearing a troubled head. she's brushing back a stray piece of hair when she turns on the video, before using both hands to steady the tablet currently balanced on her knees. though she looks calm, there definitely seems to be a heaviness in her posture — like she's only just taken a moment to relax and let the good and bad of the situation sink in. the latter, it seems, is what's troubling her today. ]

Hi. [ a half-smile ]

I haven't been here too long, so I'm not so good at this. But how do you even begin to stop thinking and worrying about everything back home? Or at least about people. Family.

[ because the realization had been that her dad's alone now. or he's with gerard, which might actually be worse. she knows he's capable of taking care of himself, but she also hadn't exactly left at the best of times either. her tone turns more inquisitive, more determined as her brain tries to grasp at ideas of what she could do. ]

I know trying to be sent back is trouble, but if there's ways to let us travel, shouldn't there be some way for us to leave something? A note, a memento, or something to let people know we're okay.

[ if she could, she's sure he'd find it. she knows it'd probably make things too easy, but a girl can dream, can't she? the silence begins to stretch on too long and allison figures it's time to buck up and at least stop broadcasting her sullenness, so she just adds: ]

Thanks. [ and a shake of her head before the feed's switched off. ]


[ ooc: oops forgot to add that feel free to also find her outside! ]

[The screen clicks on to a super close up of Pabu's face. The little fire ferret sniffs the screen, then turns a few circles and plots down right on top of it.

Fire ferret butt. Just the way to start your day.]

What do you think, Pabu? I'm not losing my gorgeous figure, am I? [Bolin hmms and hawws.] Of course not.

[a moment of hesitation] Still, maybe you should eat the last biscuit.

[Pabu chitters and jumps off the device to go gobble the last of the biscuits, and you can finally see Bolin. He's standing in front of the mirror in his room, posing and making muscles and oh, yeah, only in his underwear.

Left arm muscles? Looking good. Right arm muscles? Oh yeah, baby. He turns around so he can see how his glutes are doing in the mirror, and that is when he notices the tablet on his bed.

On.

Recording.

He covers his crotch and turns bright, bright red. Oh no oh no oh no oh no.]

PABU! WHAT DID YOU -- [Off-screen, the fire ferret is no help whatsoever. Traitor. Bolin's panicked and frozen and it takes longer than it should for him to think of grabbing a pillow and covering the device.]

[ Bucky has the communicator on some sort of table, level. He's sitting down in front of it, evidently in a good mood. In the background, there's an old-timey looking radio playing. It cackles with static, but you can just make out a torch song. ]

I dunno how many of you know this, but it's a regular holiday where I'm from. [ He smirks, but doesn't explain. ]

Anyway, I got to thinkin', what better way to celebrate than me taking all of your money? Or… candy bars, or whatever else you got to stake. I'm flexible. I'll take 'em all.

How many of you know how to play poker?

[ The radio buzzes out, and Bucky hits it, once, hard. The sound comes to life again, now an official sounding broadcast. "The objectives of the Initative consist only in ruling by the sword, sowing the see of death and desolation until the take over power. They would then rule by the sword, that is their objective. We my therefore wonder how people who came with the confessed objective of shedding our blood, in our cities, can deceive the population by claiming to bring democracy and freedom. How can anyone claim to bring salvation—"

The broadcast dies. ]

I have gotten bored with my old job. I have learned all of the streets and the short-cuts of the city, which was entertaining to do, but now I want a change of pace.

Are there any other jobs a dragon can provide his uses?

edited for bad grammar