[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.

Buenos dias, my lunar comrades. Or buenas noches. Something.

I think I finally just figured out what's really shitty about being in this place.

Missing your family and friends and knowing not a single one of them gives a shit 'cause nobody back home even knows you're gone. Lesson time, kids - time travel isn't nearly as stylish as the movies make you believe. No it ain't.

[Heck, he even misses his evil twin brother. And the nerdy obsessive one, too. Bluh bluh.]

Being kidnapped kinda ruins the whole shindig, anyway.

Sooo. What's up, homies?

[ He doesn't actually really like text; he's not great with technology and there's bound to be some spelling/grammar errors, but right now he trusts typing more than his ability to keep a professional tone. So be it. ]

Hi.

First things first this isnt going to be a lecture. Tensions are high enough and Ive barely been here long enough to have the whole history down yet. (Working on it) Besides, you've already herd plenty of it. So this isnt about that.

[ Not overtly, anyway. He's trying to do the "subtlety" thing. He's not taking notes or anything. ]

I'm Doug by the way. Mostly I'm trying to figure everything out still, you know. That sort of thing. I'm a curious and openminded sort of person wich is why I have some questions:

1. Whats your favorite thing about being here?
2. And least favorite thing?
3. If you had to make up 1 rule what would it be?
4. Why's the coffee so bad & Are there vending machines (where)?

Thank you thats all.

[The sound clicks on, a low and unobtrusive hum before a voice is finally heard, hoarse and raw. Whoever it is, it sounds like she's screamed herself out, or cried herself out, either one, and is far more diminished than she would be normally.

It's rare for her to do this, so it must be important.]

There's a girl...someone is missing. Her name is Sayaka. She—

[—Ah, that's new. That's definitely Kyouko's voice, but she doesn't seem to be in a good state. Silence for a while. She's covered her hand with her mouth and just breathes in for a few seconds.]

She was in the outskirts, and I was looking for her, but I couldn't find her in time. I can't sense her either. If anybody's seen her, I gotta know.

[He smiles a bit, sitting back from the screen for a moment.]

So, it seems that we'll be leaving this place. Some of you seem...upset.

Not I! I am quite pleased to be rid of this place. But if it bothers you that much, I, the great GENIUS Dist the Rose, propose this:

Given the right materials, I could begin making replicas. In fact, I could even replicate the entire island. If we bring one Exile with us, I could make many more from them. You see? It matters not if I make a hundred or a hundred thousand! We could simply repopulate the island!

[He folds his hands in his lap, pleased.]

It's a simple solution, directly from the mind of a genius. You may thank me now.

[They will argue about moral choices until the city burns away. The choices here are ugly, and knowing the outcome regardless of their actions makes them uglier.

She never does this. Oriko has always believed that action is better than telling. People don't listen to soothsayers; truths must be learned on their own time. Never once has she simply come forward with information like this - everything was a speech, a story, a revelation, pulling threads and nudging.

She sounds, frankly, cold. Detached, but hoarse.]

What I have to say is brief, if you will hear it.

Here is what is going to happen:

There is no conceivable escape for Exiles at the shoreline. The fate they will meet there is no different. Guns wait for them, and death.

Don't send them down there indiscriminately, rashly, unless you send them knowing that.

[ the video comes on a little shakily with a lot of screeching noises; people who've been introduced to riku's stellaluna would probably recognize her. the feed's too dark to see anything though, like something's covering it. ]

No - stop, just stop. I got it, okay? We're gonna find him, all right? Now would you quit trying to bite my face off?

[ someone's hand lifts from the camera and Virgil's face comes into view, with stellaluna perched on his shoulder. he looks pretty annoyed and kind of distressed for the most part. ]

Riku's missing. I don't know where he is, but I've looked all over this stupid place and I can't find him anywhere. His stuff's still here and she's [ thumb jab in stellaluna's direction ] still here, so this wasn't something he'd planned in advance.

[ his mouth twists into a vague snarl, feral and angry. ]

I don't want to hear any stupid excuses like "oh, he's probably just on a mission" or whatever dumb reasons you can think of. Something's not right. This isn't like him at all.

[ because he would've told him too, if he was leaving. he rakes a hand through his hair with a sigh and stellaluna promptly takes it upon herself to try and hug his face, which effectively makes him lose his balance and drop his tablet, ending the video. ]

Hello, everyone.

I have been in United Earth territory since June. I was released last week. Although I have been inspected and declared safe by the Initiative, I feel that it is my obligation to notify you all of what happened.

I am very eager to see some of you again. I am staying in my assigned housing at 502 while I continue to recover. Please come by at your convenience.


((feel free to use this post for both network conversations and action!))

[The camera is focused on a cookie, held in Nathan's hand. People may recognize it as one of the cookies offered to newcomers as they leave the Initiative Hold. This one, however, looks a tad off--the icing looks a bit lumpy, and there appear to be several curly hairs attached to it.]

Alright. Who do you think would win in a fight with this biscuit as the prize?

[Nathan drops his hand and the cookie out of sight, leaving a clear view of a merchant outdoors in the courtyard, covered in a large raincoat selling soggy odds and ends. He looks old, weary, and is hunched in on himself, shivering a little bit.]

This guy...

[He shifts the camera view to a nearby alleyway, where a small, scrawny child sits with his knees drawn up to his chin, soaking wet. The child is wide-eyed and dressed in tattered clothes, looking gaunt and exhausted.]

...or this one?

[The camera is turned around so that now Nathan's face fills the screen.]

Ah? Anyone got any ideas? I'm willing to accept bets, if there are any takers!

[ the name attached to this account, and thus with all applicable comments within this entry, reads Haruka Takahashi, as usual.
for those of you just joining us at home, some info. ]

If you're only interested in useful posts, you can skip the rest of this. I'm only out to waste the time of those who want it wasted, today.
For anyone else, color me curious.

Water, Wind, Light, Flame, Earth, or Darkness.

Pick one, please.

To clarify, "light" doesn't mean good and "darkness" doesn't mean evil, or bad. Or vice versa; there's no moral alignment to any of them.
And I didn't "skip heart", so don't bother bringing that up.

[ tetchy. ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ she's put this off for almost a month now. what with looking out for madoka, keeping an eye on oriko mikuni, examining the surrounding areas and moving in with three other magical girls... there simply hasn't been time for something as frivolous as this. nonetheless, it's something that needs to happen at some point, and thus she has holed herself up in her room with her tablet at the ready.

today is the day homura akemi finally contacts the network.

when the feed comes on, a young woman with long black hair can be seen. some of you may already know her, for any number of reasons; her cool, formal demeanor is in effect as always, even if it's significantly less icy than it's been over the past few weeks. ]

My name is Homura Akemi. I arrived here a little over one month ago, and I've been working on settling in ever since. [ her words have a certain practiced, muted tone to them, as does the slight bow she gives the camera. ] It's nice to meet you all.

[ she closes her eyes, takes a breath, exhales- when she finally opens her eyes again, she resumes speaking in that controlled way of hers. ]

If the network is reliable, I've been to this place several times already. As such, some of you have likely met me before. I'd be very interested in meeting with anyone I once knew.

[ a slight pause, another breath, and then- ]

Thank you for your time.

[ and with that, she unceremoniously reaches out and closes the feed. ]

How many kids do we have here without guardians from their own worlds?

[He sounds tired, and maybe a little sad. He's having trouble reconciling the man who calls himself Nathan, father of two, who has lost one child to war already, and the soldier who calls himself Cable, who founded X-Force and was leader of a war clan before he turned twenty.]

...If your works considers you an adult, I won't patronize you by portending otherwise.

[It's rare that she addresses the network at large, but today, Kyouko is perched on a far-off rooftop. The remains of the domed ceiling and the slightly bent, scorched cross atop it suggest that this place, wherever it is, used to be a church.

She is dressed as a Puella Magi for this, and with a care that belies her usual behavior, wraps the chains of her separated spear around the bent cross, and begins to pull, slowly. The comm device catches bits and pieces of this work — her boots, the strain and squeaking of old metal and wood. Eventually the cross is righted as much as it can be without tipping over and crashing to the ground below, and apparently satisfied, she leans against it, unwraps a candy bar, and places her comm device in her lap, staring down at the screen.]

[She turns away a little, and speaks in a contemplative tone of voice.] Y'know, the people who live here have hard lives.

[She takes a bite out of her candy bar, and continues to speak. Seems she's in an introspective mood.] Not you guys, [rude.] the people who lived here before we got here. When those bombs hit, a buncha of these buildings didn't make it. A lot of the people didn't either.

[A grin, but there's little humor to be found in it.] Heh, and this place is still here. It's a dump, but people come in here anyway. There's no priest and no books, but they leave junk here at the altars, even though the rain leaks through. They bury people without givin' 'em their rites. [...] I wonder if they even remember 'em. Betcha they don't, huh?

[She continues to chew.] I got here almost a year ago, and this building's still the same as the first time I saw it. I used to think nobody gave a damn about it, but I see them coming in and out of here all the time. An' even after the bombs, and what just happened, they always smile at you when you walk by. People give me stuff for no reason. I used to think that kinda attitude was stupid. Who smiles in a shitty place like this? Why give a buncha strangers anything? It's better to just care about yourself. They'd live better lives if they did.

[The wind is soft. Still. Kyouko's expression appears to close off, becomes difficult to read.]

Maybe. I don't know what I think now.

[An audio post begins, and for a few seconds it's just the sound of the rain. Then, a piano begins to play. Those familiar with classical music would recognize it as French Suite No. 4, a well-known work by German composer J.S. Bach.

The music goes on for about fifteen minutes. It's a piece with a sense of introversion to it - even as the music turns complicated and speedy in some areas, it maintains a restrained elegance. Emotional, without being passionate.

When it finally ends, there are another few seconds of rainfall before Kaworu speaks.]

The demands of human relationships are overwhelming when you consider just how much love a heart needs to survive.

But, conversely, a heart can give an infinite amount of love in turn. The world is less scary if you simply remember this.

I bet a bunch of people are glad that's over! Me too.

[A laugh.]

Still, I wanted to ask - how many people were glad for what happened? I mean, for whatever reason it might have been. I thought it would be nice to hear some people who weren't miserable! It's always good to know there are people out there who are happy with the way things are going. There are probably plenty more people who didn't like it at all. I didn't either, but... At least it was only five days, I guess, even if it seemed longer.

[For once, Koltira's not at his lake, or even in his cabin. He's somewhere in the city--some dilapidated ruin, it looks like. Probably one of the buildings hit by the UE's recent bombing, abandoned and subsequently forgotten during the reconstruction effort. He doesn't really have any other quiet place to go in the city proper, since he (somewhat foolishly, he's now realizing) gave away his Initiative-assigned room. Oh, well.

He sits cross-legged among the rubble, the tablet propped up beside him. It's difficult to discern his expression: the icy glow of his eyes betrays nothing, and his mouth is a set line. His voice is, as always, a guttural scratch, underscored with a strange, otherworldly reverberation.]

Some of you have spoken before of the dead. Perhaps you knew death before coming here, or perhaps this place brought you back. Either way, you are in a living, breathing body, and so that is not the kind of death I'm asking after.

I ask you, instead, about undeath. Does it exist on your world? Do you fear those touched by it? Do you hate them? Are they merely soulless automatons, or do your revenants retain some measure of self, of intelligence?

[He leans forward, and a lopsided, unhappy smile briefly passes over his expression.]

Inquiring minds need to know.

Say, if you're an alien, I have a question for you. What was your world like? Do you miss it? Please tell me about it if you feel like it. Did you get to fly a space ship? Was that fun? What kind of fun things did you do? Are humans weird? What's the weirdest thing about them? Do you like humans? Did you ever meet humans when you were an alien?

[Okay, that's a bunch of questions. But she doesn't self-correct.]

Also, does anyone here know how to do magic? And if you do, is it magic you can teach to anybody? I think it would be pretty neat to know how to do some magic, and it could come in handy sometime. If you do please let me know.

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

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

( Aimo aimo... )

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

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

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

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

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

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

–hhhgh...

[behold: the underside of a table. if...you're aware of what the underside of a table even looks like, that's surely what you're looking at.

until a hand lifts and then gracelessly drops onto the screen with a heavy THWUMP.

a grunt.]

Get...backhh... [exhale. the view tilts, then dramatically shifts.

behold: Martin's face, sideways, on the floor. red-cheeked, bleary and slow-blinking.

cue nasally, confused sound:] Mruh–?

[a long stretch of just staring, squinting periodically. he is...sure these are words he can read on this screen. hang on. just...a second...........


nah. nah, he's just gonna...gonna let the screen drop flat and display the table again, rattling a little with the careless move, while he mumbles something unintelligible, topped off with some kind of whiny noise.]

[ With Rika being reluctant, the transmission is silent at first. She has to remind herself that there are others like her that have a dead end fate. It's not like home, not like when her own parents refused to take her words seriously.

When she speaks up, her tiny voice is carried across the feed. She sounds sullen and tired. ]

After this war is won, if everyone is returned to their respective worlds, what will happen to those who don't have a future back home? If we were a corpse in the ground, is that what we'd return to being? [ In Rika's case, there aren't many futures left for her. She believes she might as well be dead already. ]

Or is that a question that has yet to be answered with complete certainty? I'm sorry if it has been asked before, but I would like to know.

...If there's a small chance, even a one percent chance that I can reunite with the people most precious to me in this world, then... I think I would prefer to stay here and wait for them.

[ It hasn't happened for her yet, but there's still a little bit of hope in her. And, she's beginning to feel awkward about bringing this sort of subject up. ] ...I'm sorry again if I've said anything strange.

[Video]
[The feed opens to a view of a white-haired male who is just giving a bemused stare as a young girl's voice could be heard in the background.]

Well, I suppose this situation could be worse, but you'd have thought that someone would've won the conflict.

[A shrug.]

Though, leaving me with a brat who can't tell what they're supposed to do in this place is quite the welcome back present, isn't it?

How dare you speak ill of me when I am right here!

[ There's a small bit of golden hair sticking it's way into the feed as well as a set of fingertips as the girl mentioned earlier tries to take the tablet from him. ]

They will think poorly of me so please cease with your words. I cannot become a magical girl if the populace thinks of me as a fiendish nightmare who throws tantrums like a babe torn from his mother's breast!

[There's just a deadpan look as he wrestled the control back of the device with a sigh.]

Case in point.

[And with another shrug, he's going to just turn off the feed.]

((OOC: Both of them will be responding to you!))

—It's okay! We don't have to keep this stuff a secret.

[ THAT SURE IS A GLOVED HAND COVERING THE CAMERA but never fear, she figures it out after a moment and waves sheepishly. Exsilium, say hello to one half of your new magical girl duo. ]

Looks like there's been a bit of a problem, huh? Lucky for you guys, magical girl Sayaka is here to take care of everything! [ She holds her sword up with a grin, cape fluttering behind her. ] Just leave it to me! If anyone needs any help, I'll definitely be there straight away.

[A second later, another little magical girl face pops up. There's some fumbling around when she and Sayaka nudge shoulders and push together for room, and then she clears her throat and begins, nervously:]

If you say so...are all other magical girls this flashy?

[Mami-senpai had not mentioned it. She had also stressed the importance of keeping their magical girl personas a secret, but surely in this strange place, it wouldn't matter much, right? ...She hoped so.

Kyouko bows her head toward the camera politely, and speaks up a little louder.] Excuse me, everyone! I don't mean to be too forward, but...

[She straightens up a little, gets her game face on. She's holding a spear about twice her size, but it doesn't look like she's struggling to hold it.] We noticed there are a lot of kids around, and we want to help! So - please count on us! We'll help gather all of them up.

[A pause. She turns to Sayaka, and in a stage-whisper:] Did that sound cool enough?

You sounded fine! Geez, Kyouko, you worry too much.

[ ooc; tags will come from both in separate threads! edit: threadjacks are happening. feel free to action it up if you run into them anywhere in the hold, they will be all over. ]

[Good morning, transports! Mahdi is still in his matched pajamas in lavender flannel, printed with a design of bright blue and purple owls. A glimpse of silver jewelry can be seen beneath the pajamas' unruly folds. His long, dark hair is loose and bed-tangled, a rare glimpse of it not pulled back. He looks a bit nervous and confused, and points to an adorable mini snowman on his nightstand.]

Um, someone was in my room?

Maybe it was Santa? I'm a little bit fuzzy on the Santa thing. I'm not sure I've been good enough to warrant a visit from such a big celebrity.

Anyway, it's a really cute snowperson. I think I'll name hir Snowball.

So thanks, I guess.

[Mahdi sucks in a deep breath. He doesn't mean to be rude...] But please don't come in my room when I'm sleeping, okay?!

[A curious young woman appears on the video as she stares at the tablet in her hands, somewhat interested in the new and different and technology and all--when she remembers that oh right, she'd planned on talking to people. Way to make an impression of being focused and prepared...

She clears her throat.] Er, hi there. My name's Shirley, and... These people--y'know, the Initiative and all--they're really not picky when it comes to people who end up here and all, huh? So I just wanted to clarify something: not everything has to be about fighting, right? I can't say I'm good with anything like diplomacy either, but it's a better start than something like shooting someone...

Sorry if it's a simple question. I just wanted to be absolutely sure; thank you for your time in advance.

... actually, there's just one more thing. [A pause, because this is a lot more awkward of a topic to bring up. Still, she can't help but be curious given her own circumstances.] This is probably gong to seem silly, but this isn't actually some kind of weirdly militaristic afterlife, is it?

[The video flicks on, though it never actually lands on Rin's... face. Instead the view flips around to focus on a brown loaf of bread with a piece clearly already sliced off the end. Rin's speaks a second later, her tone dry.]

For a place with several rebel armies recruiting, this place sure has been quiet from that end of things. Which is good. I think it's clear now that we have someone horrendous or several horrendousnesses amongst ourselves that maybe we should be worrying about first.

Not that I argue that anybody should trust the Initiative wholesale but... [A small sigh.] ... nothing... deserves your loyalty absolutely and without questions. Nothing.

[Lighter:] Anyway, I made some bread. It's pretty good if I say so myself! Does anybody want to share some bread? Don't be shy. As you can see, I already ate a piece.

[The tablet shows a blonde teen sitting on a couch by a window, clearly inside one the apartments. As usual, the window's home to many raindrops obscuring the view of the outside, but that's okay. It's pretty depressing anyway. A clear view might make it worse.

Said teen takes a drink from a mug with steam coming out of the top. Probably coffee or tea. After a moment, she scowls and looks at the screen.]

For being dragged into a war like this, things seem [pause] stagnant. Maybe it's because I'm still new... but maybe things are still unfolding for these people. If it's a waiting game, I doubt either side benefits much. Resources can't be easy to come by, can they? [she sighs] Thinking on this too much won't help anyone.

[Her gaze goes back to the window.]

The rain really gets old. Has there ever been a break from this weather?

[Good day to you Exsilium. This fine morning you have a rather serious looking Erza Scarlet on your screens (she's fully clothed this time) as well as Natsu and Lucy looking rather resigned and kneeling in the background.]

Good morning to you all.

Regarding the events of the masque ball I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for the terrible behavior of my guild mates and myself. It appears I unknowingly became intoxicated at some point during the night and became somewhat violent.

[She doesn't mention that Lucy also became drunk from the punch because she remembers seeing Lucy drinking with Claire. Natsu, however, has no excuse and the glare she shoots in his direction says as much. She clenches her fist with determination.]

I refuse to let this event bring further shame upon the guild. Therefore I wish to offer up our services, to both the Initiative and those wronged by our actions, to repay the debt for any damages we inflicted.

[At the 'damages we inflicted' Lucy can be heard whispering, "Didn't she cause more damage than we did..?" and then quickly half-ducks behind Natsu when Erza turns suddenly with a murderous look in her eyes. The two figures in the background go completely pale but Erza only bows humbly before the camera. After a few moments Erza looks back at the screen, her severe tone having softened.]

Sayaka I'm sorry for abandoning you after our dance, it wasn't my intention.

[With her final apology complete Erza turns to deal with her friends. Lucy, now using Natsu as a shield, raises her arms up as if pleading for mercy.]

((OOC: Context Feel free to say your character was injured by these idiots at some point during that night.))

[It's a little before dusk when the screen clicks on, and for anyone familiar, the camera is panning around the massive, abandoned arboretum on the edge of the city. The camera turns slowly to reveal a few piles of broken stone and metal, and then a small flower garden tucked in between what might have been a statue, long ago, and a section of shattered wall.]

[Eventually the camera shifts and moves, slowly panning around until the owner has moved to sit down next to the small flower garden, and it is turned towards Shelke, who rests her back against the base of the broken statue. She has changed out of her deepground uniform finally, and is dressed in a raggedy part of baggy pants and a t-shirt a size too large for her frame, making her look even younger than she already does. She has her weapon sheath attacked though, hanging over her shoulder.]

I am no stranger to ruined buildings. [She sounds almost as though she's half talking to herself as she speaks, her voice tinged with tiredness, and her eyes are turned upwards, but then they flick back towards the camera for a moment.] But other than transients, no one appears interested in this place. No one is attempting to salvage it, or reclaim it, or utilize it in some fashion outside of planting a few flowers. That is...strange. Not the flowers are not pleasant, but...

Even after meteor fell on Midgar, people were constantly trying to reclaim destroyed sections of the city. I...

[She frowns suddenly, as if she isn't certain exactly why she's bothering to talk about this, and after a moment she just shakes her head.]

It doesn't matter. I came here looking for...anything, but there isn't much I can use. I need electronics. Circuit boards, appliances, anything I can salvage parts from. I do not have much to trade but I can attempt to find what other people are seeking.

Computer parts would be preferable, but I know they're difficult to find here. I-

[There is a commotion from nearby, the sound of footsteps and raised voices as two of the local squatters appear to be getting into a heated argument, though the words are indistinct. Shelke just sighs softly. She was almost enjoying the silence.]

I suppose I cannot remain here.

[She pushes to her feet as she turns the camera off.]

I can't believe how much time people spend on these machines
and how much weirdly personal and/or sensitive information people seem happily inclined to spill on them. Or you'd think it was sensitive at least.

Anyway I think it's so interesting how badly people want to go home and say they have their own battles to fight and the Initiative's battle is not theirs. It's interesting because if the Initiative is to be believed then their fight is our fight too. Given that our worlds are likewise being plundered. I wonder which world of mine is actually being used but I can only really think that home would be good for it. Of course it's hard to trust these people. I wonder what they would have to do to win the whole group over though. Entirely it's probably an impossibility. There's too many different factors. They sure do let folks run with slack though.

Who remembers when we fought practice battles in our memories anyway?? I am interested in talking to you.

Also I want to play a game. Does anyone know a good word game?

Here are some riddles too.

1) You throw away the outside and cook the inside. Then you eat the outside and throw away the inside. What did you eat?
2) I can run but not walk. Wherever I go, thought follows close behind. What am I?
3) What can you catch but not throw?

Who thinks of these things anyway? [People are so strange.

SHE'S BORED YEAH...]

 [There isn't even a knock at the door.]

[Homura enters her new living arrangements, courtesy of an Initiative she couldn't scrounge together enough energy to give a damn about, not even acknowledging either of the other tenants or their possessions. If her roommates see her, she doesn't acknowledge them in the slightest; still dressed in uniform, bow gripped tight in hand, all that she means to do is make sure the area is secure. She finds the unoccupied room and claims it, locking the door, and investigating it from every angle for hiding and escape spots. Satisfied, she resumes civilian form, and adjusts the bright red ribbon tied in her dark hair. Now sitting on the edge of the bed, she takes the tablet in both hands; first order of business, see what names are there.]

[Her eyes narrow; her lips thin.]

[To the community at large, she sends a simple message, just in voice, which sounds monotonous and sleepy.]

What did the Initiative not tell us in introduction that we should be aware of?

( Filtered to Sayaka, Kyouko, and Madoka )

 [the feed is inconsistent throughout this transmission, particularly the visuals, which cut out at random intervals, followed by brief audio feedback.  Koltira kneels beside a couple of bodies, and he's holding the netbook so as to provide a clear view of their still, open-eyed faces.  The edges of his cloak are visible, as well; he has placed it over them like a temporary shroud, as his purpose here is not to show off trophies of war.  Several other figures stand near the bodies; one is Emma Frost, in her diamond form, arms crossed over her chest.  Tier Halibel is an active blur, still battling ground troops.]

Exsilium, I have something to show you.

[A clawed, armored hand gestures to the men on the ground.  They are exactly, eerily alike in form and detail, with unnerving, milky-blue eyes and sharp, attractive features--high cheekbones, strong jaws, perfectly and scientifically symmetrical.  Both of the men have black hair, neatly cut; they are twin to one another in every way, like mass produced mannequins.]

These are the faces beneath the masks.  Acquaint yourselves.

[the feed becomes even more unstable.  The last image it catches before cutting out entirely is that same armored hand, passing over both men's faces, shutting their eyes with surprising, solemn gentleness.  Koltira doesn't hate these men: it's clear that they are just tools, prefabricated slaves created for the UE's use, and he knows more than a little something of that.]

[Here is a cheerfully smiling Mahdi. He's holding up an obnoxiously cute kitten planner and looking cheerful.]

Hi everyone. I've been thinking. If we're all going to be stuck here for a long time, I figured I should find out everyone's birthday and if they have a favorite meal or type of cake. If you'd please respond to this message with your name, birthday, and a little bit about you, I'd really appreciate it!

On that note, I was thinking. If people keep turning up, we should have some sort of monthly event so everyone can get to know each other, introduce ourselves and catch up and celebrate one another's birthdays. Like a potluck, maybe? There are too many people to do do this at my apartment, so I'd need to figure out a spot. What do you think?

Oh, by the way. I'm Mahdi. I like cats, singing, and cooking. My birthday is Valentine's Day!

( When the feed comes on, there’s an awkward sort of sways before it finds a solid place to sit and allow the camera a chance focus on its user. Madoka does not fully focuses on addressing the device at first, instead nervously thumbs at the folded piece of paper she holds in her hands. )

Hello! My name is Madoka Kaname, I haven’t had the chance to meet a lot of you but I hope that can change as time goes on. Today, um, I’m here about starting something that I think might be nice for some of us to do together! Especially now in the times between the missions and when… well, before something else strange might happen.

So, what I had thought of was starting, ( She trails off, fumbling to open the folded piece of paper. ) A cooking club!

( Holding the piece of paper to the camera, all can now see that it is a drawing of a girl (her, perhaps? the pink hair is something of a giveaway) in a rather elaborate pink and white dress holding a cake. The words ‘PLEASE CONSIDER THE COOKING CLUB’ written in large, neat letters underneath. )

There seems to be enough people that enjoy cooking or baking here, so I thought it would be fun to learn from one another. We represent a large number of worlds and cultures, so it’ll be nice to learn about each other while enjoying the foods that make us happy.

Thank you for listening and I hope you consider joining!

( AND ACTION for around the apartment building – maybe you’ve been stopped by this tiny, pink girl to offer you a flier, maybe you notice her taping it to the community bulletin board (… if there is one of those) or see her hustling around with her small stack of papers. )