Yodelehee yodelehee yodele hee hoooooo~!

[ It's a cozy tableau: Xerxes Break is sprawled sideways on a plush, overstuffed sofa, drinking hot chocolate out of a teacup. Seated beside him is a "woman of a certain age," once beautiful in her day, probably, and even now could be called "handsome." She is primly and respectably dressed, unlike the gaggle of young ladies (and a few men) clustered around the form of one (1) Gilbert Nightray, backed up against a wall, red-faced and cringing. While Break looks entirely at ease in this situation, Gilbert can only be described as scandalized. The sweater he’s wearing with the giant reindeer on it probably doesn’t help. ]

Has anybody ever been to Switzerland? Lovely place, excellent fondue, and the singing!

[ Break yodels some more. He has a high, breathy voice, and difficulty keeping a tune even at the best of times, so this is a particularly vicious form of vocal villainy. His handsome companion giggles into her cup, whilst Gilbert ducks his head and holds his ears. ]

The Swiss also make terribly good clothing for clambering up mountains, of which they seem to have a great many.

[ "Advanced nano-engineering" is what the Mammut retailer had told him, making their technical clothing light, automatically formfitting (one size really does fit all), impervious to the elements, and able to keep the wearer's body comfortably warm, even in the most extreme, frigid temperatures. ]

Anyway, I've got a few of these left over, with which I might be persuaded to part.

[ He produces a small bundle, hardly larger than a deck of cards, and gives it a shake. It puffs out into a snow suit with an attached hood and gloves, clearly a wonder of late 27th century technology. Unfortunately, late 27th century fashion was to emulate 1980's ski wear. ]

With that in mind, I have some information that might be interesting to those of you who haven't yet found suitable accommodation. My esteemed hostess [ a nod to the respectable lady seated beside him ] has been telling me about an enormous castle, half-buried under the snow. In addition to housing a number of works of art, it was also once used as a hotel, apparently. Thus it occurs to me that, with a bit of, ah, sprucing up, it might serve as a place for us Transports to stay, without having to impose on anybody's hospitality.

[ He pauses, frowning. Somewhere off camera, a baritone voice is pleading about something regarding sin and God and exciting underwear. ]

….which is, alas, all too easy to wear out. [ He leans over the back of the sofa calling: ] I think that's quite enough, Mister Cecil~!

(ooc: Break, Gilbert, Kevin, and others have found temporary shelter in a cathouse bordello. Responses will be from some assortment of the above. Actionspam and threadjacking welcome.)

[So. After a great deal of fumbling, Liam has figured out the 'post' function, so please enjoy this view of his shirt before he tips the thing up properly. And then waves!]

So, we're on the Moon, yeah? And I can't be the only person who arrived just in time to watch--I don't actually know what that was but it looked pretty bad.

But, that aside, I have some questions they didn't really cover in the introduction. Little things like "How are we even on the moon". Last I checked, it was kind of covered in a cult that I don't think really liked anyone hanging out on their turf.

[A pause here, for dramatic effect, and Liam's serious face. Check it: . He is so serious you guys, D'Endrrah is kind of a jerk about territory.]

I guess what I'm saying is, if you see any bunnies up here, run. Run and hope their mom isn't up here with us. She's reaaally not too fond of humans, and she's really bit on manners.

[Helpful PSA over, Liam blinks, and pauses to consider something.]

Oh, I forgot. M'name's Liam, and it's nice to meet all of you!

[It's early Wednesday morning when a new video message turns up on the network. The nun seems to have none of her usual energy and the bags under her eyes are fairly pronounced. Flynn and Fluffy have likely put up with her pacing almost incessantly since dinner time last night, and even now she fidgets in her seat, fingers playing with an ornamental looking watch hanging at her neck.]

Has anyone seen Chrono? Short, grumpy, purple hair. He's usually with me.

... He might have been in some kind of fight, so I'll take anything. Or anyone to help me look.

[ Baaa Baa-aa-aaaaaa Baaaaaaaaaaa! ]

I say, hello, hel-looooo! I have a question for you all--

[ The grime-smeared face of Xerxes Break appears onscreen. His white hair is discolored with dust and stuck together. There's a semicircular wound under his right cheekbone, and the shoulder of his jacket looks chewed. Despite all of this, he seems terribly pleased with himself. ]

Does anyone here have qualifications in animal husbandry?

[ More angry bleating and a yelp! Break turns. Visible in the background is another (also dirty and disheveled) man, desperately fending off a sheep. It’s not going at all according to plan; with a single headbutt he’s out of the camera’s line of sight, followed by a thud and worrisome tinkling noises. ]

Why, Gilbert. I think she likes you! ♥

[ Moving right along... ]

Anyway - yes. I'm looking specifically for people with experience or interest in shepherding, as well as shearing, spinning, knitting, cheese-making--

[ Another CRASH! and a voice yelling, “Break, look out!" ]

--and hand-to-hand combat! Kindly respond to this post, or apply in person to the botanical gar--

[ Break’s face suddenly disappears. The last image visible onscreen is… this. ]

[Standing in the rain, Shiki stood in front of a ruined castle. His communicator was soaked, the audio a little distorted and the video a little blurry. Not minding this at all, he could be heard walking under a little bit of cover, just to get out of the rain. The steam from his breaths could be seen and his voice sounded somewhat hoarse, as if he'd just been screaming for awhile.]

I wonder. If I killed enough soldiers, would I get sent back? How much would I have to kill for these people for the world to decide my ticket here is up?

Maybe if I volunteered for a lobotomy, I'd be able to work with this.

[Shiki fell onto his backside, setting his comm down and watched the ruins awhile longer.]

[The video feed is deliberate and the woman broadcast is someone obviously very serious about what she is about to say. While certainly beautiful the burn scars that spread across her face, half hidden behind a curtain of blond hair, only serve to intensify her severity. From here it doesn’t take a genius to see that behind her professionalism she is pissed. Hell hath no fury like a woman taken from her home world.

A cute little monkey sits on her shoulder within the feed frame.]

I will make this quick; I am General Klaud Nine of the Black Order. While this may not hold as much meaning here as it does where I hail from, let me assure you I do not intend to let my title go to waste during my stay here.

Any and all updated information concerning our situation with the United Earth that has not yet been documented - [as in she has yet to find out about through this weird-ass tablet thing] as well as an estimated number of reported transports currently here would be greatly appreciated.

Those that may hail from my world please report in.

Thank you.