( When she speaks, Collette aims to sound warm. She's tired, keyed up, and confused as well as trying to understand what's gone on since the mutiny began, and what's continuing in the aftermath. She brings a question she'd talked to Ros about, in her own way; something she wants to know very simply because she doesn't, and it's all the more important now.

Out of respect for that same woman, she keep's Ros's name out of this. )

When it comes down to do or die, who do you trust here to make decisions to pull people through, and not leave people stranded high and dry, or freeze up and fall into inaction? People who keep their temper in heated circumstances. Ones who maybe aren't going to forget the bigger picture, even if that doesn't make it easy on the smaller scale.

I've got a few names myself! Blue, Kate Kane, Nathan Summers, Caesar Silverberg, Lenalee Lee, Xerxes Break, Gilbert Nightray, Jaime Reyes, Ashraf, Kang, Peter Quill, Donny, Armin Arlert, Chrono and Rosette, even Dick Grayson and Ahiru and Vanadi, of all people, would stand by you figuring things out.

Those are some of mine. What're yours?

( I'm going to keep talking, though, so you might want to tune out if you don't want to hear me ramble about a few maybe important, maybe not things! )

[ When the video clicks on Roslyn looks a little tired but primarily determinedly mad, someone who's been running on coffee and protein bars for too long and is in no mood for anyone's games. Her voice is brisk, no nonsense and cuttingly sharp. ]

As of this moment, all identified mutineers are in the custody of the police. Should anyone wish to provide help with guard duty it will be appreciated. Visits to them will be allowed only under supervision. Should anyone attempt to injure them, that person will find themselves in cuffs faster than they can blink.

My patience with having to repeat myself on this matter is wearing thin.

[ Her tone softens a little, almost an appeal. ]

While there will be consequences for their actions, we have enough war and bloodshed on our doorstep without killing each other. Nothing will be gained and much could be lost. We do not execute people, and I will not tolerate it as a suggestion.

All systems should be restored. The base should now be fully operational again and you can return to your daily lives, if that is what you wish. Alternatively, you can consider what was said on both sides and determine if what we are doing is truly enough, or if we have become complacent.

[ Just saying. Small out. ]

( an array of private texts )

[ ooc: all mutineers can now be considered to be locked up in empty rooms in the West Wing for the immediate future! I will keep all arrested mutineers updated as further consequence type developments occur, feel free to let me know if you have preferences that we could maybe work out. log for mutineer & visitor shenanigans can be found here. ]

[There's a kind of mechanical whining on the feed when it opens at first, as if from a smaller machine, a higher pitch whir and him which eventually silences, only to be replaced by a few taps and once again more whining. After a few moments there's a sound similar to a sigh though- seems to border on the more frustrated end. An adjustment- perhaps to the mic, and the small mechanical sound seems to have drawn closer to what's being spoken into, or visa versa.]

I'm finding it to be exceptionally distasteful- the lack of culture here at times. The lack of something with tradition and true exceptional craft. I admit though, that I've been aloof to the the network lately, so maybe I haven't noticed some kind of creative stirring in this usually excremental pool of iniquitous and sassy degenerates.

[A pause, more mechanical whining, a breath.]

So I guess I'll give it a chance- though some I am aware of, minimal, so extremely so- of a few examples- but those who I'm not aware of- those that harbor some kind of artistic worth in this jambled mess of space and time riff raffs and stolen hoi polloi. To you I command to make known to me what types of artistic sway you or your worlds have. Preferably something held with extensive regard.

And don't start anything, let's keep this professional. I don't want to be made angry.

[ the feed starts abruptly with the corner of what appears to be a book covering a small portion of the camera. it shows a slightly awkward angle of Riku and the Replica tucked in a corner of the library, deep in conversation: ]

These books are stupid. These names are stupid. [ the Replica sighs, throwing another book on the desk while Riku continues to flip through his book. ]

What d'you want me to break out, kid's books? There's got to be a name you like somewhere in here.

Probably wouldn't make a difference. I don't want to be called Chris, or Mark, or Lucifer? What do they even mean?

Uh, let's steer clear of Lucifer. I don't know. I know 'Riku' means land. 'Sora' means sky... I think. 'Kairi' has something to do with the ocean. There's got to be something that says what they mean somewhere in here.

[ there's a moment of brief silence before the Replica snickers. ]

... Land?

Land, or earth, I thi--... what?

Nothing. It kind of works... you're stubborn enough, I guess.

Wouldn't that mean the same for you?

I never said I wasn't.

Maybe we should name you 'Volcano'. You're always ready to explode.

[ no sooner had Riku said it before the Replica grabbed a book and threw it across the table at him, aiming for his head. Riku barely even glances up and merely leans his head to the right as the book goes sailing over his shoulder. the Replica scowls at him. ]

Once a jerk, always a jerk.

I don't hear you rejecting it.

It's dumb enough that it shouldn't even be suggested, let alone be rejected.

At least I'm suggesting things. What about 'Virgil'?

[ silence again. this time the Replica seems to be considering it, head lowered a little in thought. Riku looks up from his page and quietly waits for his opinion. after a moment: ]

.... Does it mean anything?

[ there's a wry smile from Riku ] Strong.

Okay.

[ as the Replica (now Virgil) stands to gather up the books, he finally notices the tablet and quickly turns off the feed with a resigned sigh and a quiet groan.

OOC: responses will come from either or both limitstorm and replicates! ]

[ Video opens on Roslyn at her desk in the police office, well dressed as she holds up her badge in front of her for a little bit before placing it back down on the desk. The office is small and cramped and clearly actively in use by the piles of folders, even if they're neatly stacked and arranged. ]

Some time ago, the police force was unfortunate enough to lose Inspector Barnaby, Sergeant Howe, and Sergeant Calhoun back to their homes. Their service was appreciated and will be missed.

In their absence, I am currently assuming the reigns as Detective Chief Inspector of the Transport Affairs Unit. I wanted to reassure the population that the police will continue to operate with integrity and dedication. Should you ever require our services, we can be found at [ address & ooc link ].

For those of you considering joining the force, we are always welcoming new recruits and the pay is reasonable. Serving as an officer is a way to help mend the fences between us and the natives and earn a living. Thank you for your time.

[ click. ]

[ ooc: check here for further ooc information on the police force and opportunities with it. ]

[ it's rare riku actually turns on his tablet for an actual broadcast; even if he obviously has deliberately turned it on, for a few moments, he doesn't know what to say.

what can he say? that was...

he exhales, runs a hand through his hair, and then straightens. ]

A lot of people have said their piece already, and everyone's got a good point.

[ well, actually--he makes a face, and rolls his eyes. ]

... some are better than others, but arguing won't get us anywhere. We need to come together as a group, and if you don't want to protect the Initiative, I get it. [ a sigh. he looks down. ] I do.

I've been here for more than a year, I've been here for a lot of their mistakes, seen them firsthand. They're definitely far from perfect, but going against them... if we've learned anything, it's that, to keep our homes safe, we should take arms against United Earth. You can fight the Initiative all you want, but it's not going to help. They aren't getting ready to decimate entire worlds and leave no prisoners.

[ another hand runs through his hair, pushing back his bangs. his tone is more firm as he speaks again, but his eyes are on the floor, to the side. ]

It's almost the beginning of the month, again. That's when the new arrivals come in.

[ then, he looks back to the camera. ]

What're we going to say when they say they want to go home? "No, or your home world will be destroyed"? And don't say the staff's going to take care of that. If I've learned anything in my time here, it's that not everything can be condensed into the ten-minute talk the greeter gives them.

[ action - for roommates (Soldier Blue and Judal) or anyone who wants to stop by unit 510 ]
[Bolin's sitting on the floor in the living area, with his back against the couch and Pabu curled up on his head. He's spent most of the past five days exploring his new home (and training, and hanging out with Korra and Asami as much as he can). But a guy's gotta give his muscles some time to rest and so he figures he might as well play around with the strange little gizmo they gave him. (Evidently he's supposed to be able to talk to people through it -- like a mini radio or something.)

He pokes hesitantly at the screen and gasps in surprise when it changes. It takes him a long time to find the tutorial, and even longer to make his way through it. Reading is hard enough for him even when he doesn't have to figure out what strange words like "video" mean.

In the end, it doesn't help him that much. All he really gets out of it is you can leave messages for everybody who has one of these weird devices to see, and these messages can either be in written words, recordings of your voice, or a kind of moving picture with sound. He decides to just poke around the device and see if he can figure out how to make a moving picture post for himself -- it sounds pretty cool.

Ten minutes later --]


[ video ]
[The feed flicks on and Bolin lights up.]

Hey! I think I finally figured it out! [He leans closer to the device, and Pabu jumps off his head indignantly to go doze on the couch.] Hello in there! Can anybody hear me?

[His thumb slips, accidentally switching it to audio.]

[ audio ]
Wait, what did I just do?

[He speaks with a mildly British accent, mixed with twinges of French in every other consonant. His first instinct would have been to use his native language - the latter - but it's become clear that he'll have more luck being understood going with his father's.]

I... wish I could think of something wrong I'd done. Something that would explain why I'm here and why I have to - fight. [He's having a hard time expressing himself. Peter doesn't... really know what he wants to say, other than that he would very much like to be placed back where he came from.] Then I'd feel there was some kind of justification I could understand.

Anyway, uhm - if there's someone I know out there, is... is there any way I can find them? Contact them? I'd really appreciate any help. I - I have a friend - his name is Frederick, he's a doctor, English, taller than me... [He gestures with a flat hand, above his head. Then he reaches into his pocket to bring a small photograph closer to the camera,] This is the only picture I have of him. I don't have pictures of anyone else.

[With a soft sigh, Peter's shoulders drop. He then mutters to himself, a presence of annoyance in his tone,] Je ne sais pas sur quel pied danser...

[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.

Time!

[ the screen flickers onto a scene in the training rooms; there's a complicated systems of fabricated heights and landscapes, all metal, but changing. it's for terrain training; so people can understand and utilize the things around them. it's simple and made of clean metal, and riku stands on one side of it, breathing heavily, eyes focused ahead. the camera itself is wobbly as intense flapping can be heard--it's most likely that the device is in the hands (well, claws) of one stellaluna the dream eater, especially in the way he glances towards the camera with a little smile.

the timer blinks on a screen above him; he turns his head to watch it blink 2:03, and he narrows his eyes, obviously displeased with that. the terrain changes again, and he yells start before he's set to run.

he just... doesn't run normally. he jumps from edge to edge where he should probably topple over the edge, tucks into a roll when he makes a slightly clumsy fall so he doesn't injure himself, climbs back up, slides and pitches himself suddenly forward, grabbing onto a ledge and hurtling himself backwards onto another one. nothing is purely decorative, not even the flips he does that seem a bit like showing off, some aspects purely gymnastic. either way, if he isn't doing an essential move, he's booking it straight to the other end of the course, head dropped low and tucked against his chest.

when he finally hits the flashing button on the end, he turns sharply. ]

Time!

[ loading. loading.

loading--

the same voice from before crackles. 1:49. he grins, and glances to stellaluna, raising his hand. ]

Hey, high-wing--

... hold it. [ squint. why do you have his tablet. why is the red light flashing--

fzzt. end feed. ]

[ Video as usual. One of these days Anders ought to take a typing class and advance beyond two-fingered typing. ]

So we're back to ourselves, yes? Another bout of our hosts' incompetence survived. I have to say I'm proud of us as a community for placing responsibility where it belongs, and not jumping to conclusions. I haven't seen or heard anyone blaming mages for what happened.

On a happier note, I've learned that today people are supposed to eat pie, in honor of mathematics. Anyone up for a potluck? I'm no mathematician, mind. I just happen to think pie is always worth celebrating.

[The post is public and easy to read for everyone, but if you're a paranoid type hoping to crack the anonymity he's made it as ridiculously hard as possible to hack for the most part, except for several completely exposed paths you can find with just a bit of searching and know-how that will help you crack the anonymity on this post with ease...but if you manage to hack your way through everything, it unfortunately leads to an unregistered device with no ID. Better luck next time you nosy sons a' bitches.

And yes, it's a dutifully crafted lure designed just to fuck with you people in the first place.]

So I was just wondering...what's the stay/go ratio around here like?

If you're interested, just tell me whether or not you'd rather stay here once the war ends, or go back home a.s.a.p.

Reasons optional, but preferred. [The more depressing the better, he could use a laugh.]

[ as usual, Riku's been helping Transports that're coming in. it's the courteous thing to do, he figures. but even he needs a break, and remembering what he was told as a kid during the event, he's ... made something of a makeshift soccer field in one of the gymnasiums. with two goalposts and lines in tape, it looks like a proper field.

without the grass, of course. he'd love to play in the rain, but with all the new Transports and with dirt turning to mud and good god, the chill... well, not much of a game if everyone's slipping and sliding and freezing, anyway. he bounces the ball on his head like the proper showoff he is. ]

Who's up for a game?

There's got to be soccer--uh, or football [ he glances to the Initiative staff member who coughed when he said 'soccer' with a raised brow ] on other worlds, too.

There's a lot of new people around, now, like there always is around this time of month. So if you just arrived and need to kick something--

[ there's a flash of yellow and purple suddenly, and the ball he'd been bouncing is suddenly gone. he has to turn to look off-camera, and he levels his gaze. ]

C'mon, Stellaluna. You can't...

[ ...!

he rolls his eyes and moves off-screen, himself. ]

That's not for eating. Spit it out.

[ off-screen wrestling; the ball shoots out, hitting the chair his device is sitting upon. it tumbles over and reveals Riku taking the ball from a flapping bat's grip.

once the ball's let go, the bat perches atop his head, and he gives her a pet before looking back at the device. ]

... oh, right. [ he starts to get up. ] If you helped me as a kid, I'd like to talk to you. Privately.

[ he moves over, and clicks off the feed. ]

[Filtered from Kanaya]

OKAY, SO. WHAT KIND OF CRAP MAKES AN ACCEPTABLE GIFT FOR HUMAN TWELFTH PERIGEE? IS IT ANY KIND OF CLOTHING ITEM OR ONLY COLD WEATHER ITEMS, OR IS THERE ANY RULE FOR WHAT YOU GIVE BACK BASED ON WHAT YOU WERE GIVEN?

ALSO, WHAT IS THE DEADLINE ON THIS THING. WHEN EXACTLY DOES THE HUMAN GIFTGIVING HOLIDAY END?

[ a sneeze; acough, and a creak of a door. ]

Ugh.

I knew going out in the snow was bad news.

[ a quiet, affectionate cry echoes, animalistic in origin. Stellaluna's a bit worried about her human. 8( not like him to be so lethargic for a few days.

However, Riku's been spreading a bit of cheer--some of his presents might be a tad late, but they're delivered carefully. And random transports were given pies or torts, even if he doesn't know them. ]

Hope everyone had a good Christmas. Now we just--

[ achoo! Groan, wobble, worried scree. ]

... have the New Year to worry about.

I'm already familiar with the fact that people seem to appear here more than once, disappearing and then returning as if renewed. I'll spare you the effort of convincing me of it.

[ Oh, so look at this pink-haired but serious-business-looking woman finally addressing her tablet for the first time! In a marked contrast to the unusual armor she originally showed up in (no doubt causing more than a few stares at the masquerade), today she's got on a rather unremarkable, plain grey shirt on instead- a fact that, given her posturing, even she seems to think is unsavory.

... But more importantly, despite her direct words, her tone is definitely a bit at odds with them, too; she speaks with purpose, but her voice is low and more careful than you might think... and carries a strange sense of barely-hidden weight behind it- whatever the cause of that might be. ]

If you've seen me before, if we've spoken at any point in time, I want to hear about it. More importantly... if you've ever spoken with my sister, Serah Farron [ ... ] I want to hear about that, too.

[ She knows Serah was here before, but. These things don't record everything, after all, and in a strange way, it's definitely engaging Lightning's sense of annoyance that she isn't familiar with all that has happened yet. After Valhalla, she's not so used to being in the dark about things... and even asking that question seems to spark something painful in her pale face. Regardless- ]

Thank you.

[ She doesn't allow the camera to pick up on any emotions that sneak out past her defenses for long, ending the transmission there in wait for replies. ]

[The video starts out with nothing out of the ordinary, just Alice looking like she has something to say and indeed she does. Even if, like typical, she doesn't look particularly healthy. Pale skin, dark circles around her eyes... Some of you have already seen her like that. Others might be a little confused at the drastic change in appearance.

Still, that's a story for another time.]

It certainly has been a rather trying number of days, hasn't it? I must say that-

[... or not. Her pendant quickly begins to glow more and more brightly, much to Alice's surprise.]

What in the name of...?

[Brighter and brighter it gets, until a blinding flash hits the screen, accompanied by an audible "boom" and the sound of her device being dropped. Everything is silent for the next couple of minutes as the camera continues to record nothing but white. Finally, the brightness subsides and the view goes back to normal. But where's Alice?]

Blasted thing. Would it be asking too much for a warning next time? Your timing is as inconvenient as that mangy Cat's.

[She sounds alright at least, and her words are no less sharp. That's good too.

Viewers now hear the sound of approaching footsteps as someone steps in front of the fallen communicator. Striped stockings and knee-high black boots...

The device is lifted back up and, and the legwear from before was actually Alice's! In fact, she looks rather different all around, and considerably healthier. Though some might actually recognize this form of hers more than the disheveled girl they saw moments ago. Despite what happened, she looks rather calm.]

My apologies for what just transpired. I've yet to fully master usage of my so-called "weapon".

➔ INITIATIVE ANNOUNCEMENT

[ Throughout Exsilium, all of the communicators will beep several times before the video feed activates to show a stern woman. A purple Initiative banner hangs behind her. ]

Good evening, Transports. My name is Mera Vestus. I am a member of the Initiative Consulate. Jointly, we head the Initiative. I have elected to speak on behalf of the Consulate today, and hope to address some of your concerns.

I would like to begin by apologizing for our lack of communication with the Transport population. Organizing our endeavours is no simple task, and has occupied the entirety of our attentions. That is no excuse. We have brought you here, and it is our obligation to be as forthcoming as possible with you. From this moment on, we wish to seek out a greater degree of transparency with the Transport population as a whole. No Transport should be afraid to voice his or her concerns, nor should they feel that they are falling upon deaf ears.

I also wish to apologize once more for interrupting your lives by bringing you here. If there were any other option, we would not have resorted to such measures. As it stands, you are the last hope not only for our world, but for many.

As some of you have already been made aware, it is not merely the fate of this universe that is at stake in our ongoing struggle against the United Earth. Many of this world's natural resources have been depleted, with only stockpiles remaining for the United Earth to rely upon. These stockpiles are running low. They have been forced to resort to extreme measures. They have begun to utilize their own version of the transporter technology to drain resources from other worlds in hope of supporting their own regime. One by one, they are leaving other worlds as barren as this one. Each of your homes is a likely target. The United Earth is indiscriminate with their targets, and consumes without temperance or remorse.

We wish that it had not come to this. We wish that we could send those of you home who do not desire anything to do with our ongoing battle. But this is unfortunately beyond our control. We cannot control who the transporter selects, or when it chooses to send individuals back to their own worlds. We will do anything in our power to make your stay here as comfortable as possible in gratitude for your cooperation.

I will now be receiving questions. I will answer to the best of my ability, and look forward to engaging in civil conversation with all of you.

[Her camera isn't on her, it's showing off the decor of her room.  There's various coloured fabric hung up to give the place a tent-like feel and various coloured strings of lights strewn up behind said bits of fabric.  It has a nice cozy feel but Taicea has a frown on her face when she turns the camera back to herself.

Something else is noticeable about her, she's looking paler than usual.]

I thought I would make this place feel more like home but it's missing some very important things, plants.  I would like to keep some here in my room but without proper sunlight they'll wither.  If anyone could help with that I'd be very thankful.  [She offers a smile and turns the camera back around.]

I was thinking about putting them against this wall and over here too. [She turns the camera to the other side of the room.]  I hope neither of my roommates have allergies to any plants.  I don't plan on bringing in anything poisonous, just some flowers and maybe fruit or vegetable bearing plants.  If I can find any.

[She turns the camera back to herself and offers another smile.]  Any help would be greatly appreciated!

[it's a minute or so of a melody hummed, something thoughtful, simple. it persists even when she finds what she wants – that there video function, the telltale thing she knows for sure is her window to everyone else floating around with these things.

far too quiet for her, and quiet only a moment longer before she speaks up:]

I want to understand what it is your name means. Tell me?

[ loading, loading, loading--

click. when the camera turns on, it shows a wall of lobby of the transports' housing, and Riku--that guy that's been gone for a couple of days, completely scarce--and he looks notably different. for one, his hair's cut, and two... he just carries himself differently.

he's up against the wall, looking to be pinning a long piece (and wide; it's almost as tall as him and spans a lot of the wall) of paper to it. a few things are already drawn; spherical shapes and some rectangles with landscapes drawn in them, with a name above them with some writing underneath.

and he seems to be talking to someone off-camera. ]

Stellaluna.

[ flapflapflap ]

You know... that fruit's fake.

[ flapflapflap SCREE 8(

to which he just laughs, and a large multicolored bat comes into frame, speeding straight at him. he's almost bowled over as the bat nuzzles against him, and he takes a moment to calm her down before moving over to the tablet, to find it's already recording. ]

Looks like it's finally on.

It's been a few months since I've been here, but it looks like it was just a few days here. [ he shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair. ] Time travel...

A lot of people have friends, maybe even family here--but the number of worlds that're represented here is still huge.

So it'd do some good to start plotting out how many worlds there are between all of us, and anything from our homeworlds that might be worth something. I've already got the worlds I've been to drawn up here, and my homeworld, too. If you wanna add to it, it's down in the lobby of the housing building.

[ the video flickers on--some of the camera is obscured by some books. they're classical novels and manuals for robotics, machinery, and there may be a cookbook and karate in there. someone's been making very good use of the library here.

but besides the book, part of the clock can be seen as it hangs on the opposite wall, reading a few minutes before midnight. not a creature is stirring, not even a...

... no, nevermind, something's beeping. rather loudly--rather annoyingly. it's a grating, hissing sound that would wake anyone up.

there's a creak of the door and a groan and Riku walks out, all mussed hair and tired eyes. in a tank top and bright neon blue boxers, nonetheless. he glares in front of him, then completely bypasses looking at the video camera, right to the culprit. ]

Who drinks coffee at...

[ ding!

the clock strikes twelve, chiming a few times, catching Riku's attention.

... ... ]

... it's Halloween. [ sigh--he runs a hand through his hair. ] Too bad there's no trick-or-treating he...

[ ... ... he stiffens and turns away from the clock. ]

... I'm ... seventeen?

[ beep beep beep beep beep--

Riku's just hard at work typing on the new tablet. his face is the empitome of concentration--and then, as he moves the screen, the tablet boots up a holographic function. he jolts slightly as he looks at it, glares, and clicks out of it.

beep beep beep beep beep, moving--

it happens again. ]

Seriously?

[ Exit Window.

beep beep--

third time. Riku just stares right through the holographic window, then flickers his eyes up straight into the camera, noticing that it's... recording... ]

Couldn't they fix the recording problem?

[ ugh. ]

This could be United Earth spying. They could've just fixed the security on the old computers.

... [ now that he's recording and obviously broadcasting, though-- ]

Anyone having problems with their new stuff?

[ Sayaka's at the markets today, if her surroundings are any indication - a rare display of being somewhere other than her room or the training facility. She stares down at the camera for a moment or two before speaking, as if deciding whether to actually continue or not. ]

So I was wondering... some of you have been around for a while, right? What do you do for fun here? Training's okay, but I'd like to try some other stuff too. [ Possibly a lie, but she is sick of relying on others to get out and about. It's a safe way of asking without being too obvious.

She hesitates before shutting the feed off, glancing around until a nearby display grabs her attention. A tiny frown crosses her face. ]

... This place needs better music.

[ Priorities, yes. ]

[ The video feed turns on to reveal some - well, some fumbling as Ranka makes sure she got it on right and has the camera angled at her properly. There's a beat before she realizes it's also on and straightens, aiming a beam at anyone watching. ]

Um - the lady who gave me this computer when I got here said that I could use it to talk to everyone else here. So I wanted to say hello! My name's Ranka Lee, and it's very nice to meet all of you.

[ She almost throws in a please take care of me! with a bow, but decides against it. She's quiet for a moment as she works out what else to say, before awkwardly hitching up her smile again. It's no less genuine, just also mixed in with uncertainty and nervousness. ]

You know, I never thought that much about what the situation must be like in other planets or other dimensions! I wouldn't have guessed that something like this could be happening here...but I guess it's kind of silly to just assume it'd be peaceful in other places...even so!

[ Where was she going with this aaaaa. She doesn't so much get intense stage - or camera - fright, but she's still used to these things being fairly scripted and set out. ]

Oh, and also - um, back in Frontier, I'd just had my first concert! It got delayed because of a lot of reasons, but what I wanted to say is... [ oh no oh no this is so presumptuous she can't just assume people want to listen to her sing here...! ] What I wanted to say is, even if we might be here for a little while, I still love to sing so - please give me a chance, everyone.

[ THAT WAS TERRIFYING she really hopes Mr Elmo or Ms Grace would think that was okay. She flashes one last smile before finally ending the feed. ]

(ooc: OH GOSH sob also thank you to whoever got her that paidkljsdf ♥)

Good day, Exsilium. My name is Naoto Shirogane. [The English is formal and passable, but there's still a hint of an accent and a problem with the '-lium' that sounds more like a '-rium' that reveal this rather androgynous teenager to be a non-native speaker. ... If the name wasn't any indication, anyway.]

I must say, while I'm just to being out on the field, a war is something I have never been to before. Admittedly, this is also the first time I have heard of sentient weapons. [Stumbles over 'sentient' too. She had a hard time understanding that word when the woman who greeted her informed her of that-- that certainly wasn't part of her English vocabulary, and she had needed to carefully analyze the other words in her speech to get the gist of it.]

What I do not understand is how a weapon not from their own supply can become such a thing. Their 'technology', yes, but as far as I can tell, they have yet to do anything to my weapon.

Hmm... [Thoughtful look!] If I may-- what weapon do you have, and how has it changed, if it already has?

[Notice the teenager's not talking about the Initiative and being stuck here to do someone else's dirty work, because really, Naoto thinks it goes without saying that they're all pawns and ways to get home will be a big secret to all of them, what with the woman before being mum on that and whatnot.]

Thank you.

[He's sitting outside somewhere, his back to a wall, frowning at the screen. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about him, the thing most likely to make an impression--besides the crazy sideburns--is that he looks mean.

And he is. What little time he's had to adjust hasn't improved his mood.]

So what's the consensus? Just do what they tell you and they'll let you go home, or am I bein' too optimistic?

[ the video recording is obviously accidental.

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

Sora's gone.

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

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

( [ private text to John Watson ] )

[There is the tell-tale sound of heaving in the background. The communicator is on its side, camera facing a cup of some clear alcohol on ice that's swirling in a tumbler. Where did this mysterious alcohol come from when Haymitch appears to be newly-arrived, you ask? We may never know.

His cheek is still stinging from where Katniss had gouged him, but it was a dull thrum that didn't seem so bad when he couldn't see straight. Eventually, he manages to get the camera upright and gives it a winning grin – or it would be winning, if there wasn't the telltale glisten of vomit on his lower lip. Some might not notice that.]

So, we're in for another Game. Different rules, sure, and a real 'battle', but – [and he waves his hand toward the camera,] – still. I should introduce myself, if that's the case.

[He makes a mostly-unsuccessful attempt to straighten himself up a little, leaning heavily on the outside wall of the nearest building before forcing himself to his feet and dipping himself in a sloppy bow.]

Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell. I come from District 12, home of coal and very little else.. This place is at least less of a violent assault on the senses than the Capitol – nobody's hair has made me shield my eyes yet. That's something.

[He produces a flask from his jacket pocket and places it to his lips, tipping it completely upside-down to suck the last few drops from it.]

Tell me, fellow captives -- how do you feel about the likelihood we'll be forced to kill people we know nearly nothing about in the name of this place's 'freedom'?

So my gun, it's supposed to just…get stronger right? [ Hello network, here's a face you haven't seen in a while. Dean's been trying to learn what this place is all about, but today finds him in the training hall with his beloved .45 caliber Colt. He's shaking the damn thing like its offended him somehow. ] Maybe mine is broken…

[ Hm. Tucking it away, he has another thing to ask. ]

Also, a year on freakin' paradise beach land has left me feelin' all sorts of rusty. Anyone up for a little rough-n-tumble? [ Meaning sparring. But take it as you want, especially since the look he's giving the device speaks of entirely different sort of fun. ] Y'know, of the physical sort.

[ The image is shaky and unfocused, at first, until the ruffling sounds cease and the picture stills after picking up on a blur of red, white and blue. A blond man, bruised and battered, and appearing a little worse for wear comes into view.

He's still fairly new to technology, and this seems to be that much more advanced than even some of the gadgets he came across in the future - he pauses to think that Stark - Tony - would love to get his hands on something like this. But he manages to figure it out pretty quickly, albeit awkwardly, and he audibly takes in a deep breath. ]

Guess I gotta introduce myself on this thing, don't I? Manners cost nothing, after all. [ He winces, whether at his own weariness or an actual injury is difficult to tell, and he rubs at the back of his neck, a somewhat nervous habit from years long since gone, smearing the dirt there further. ] M'Steve Rogers, and, uh, it's kinda been a long day.

[ But not long enough for him to have missed the details. This place is clean, organised, but there doesn't appear to be any immediate threat. He's already ruled out HYDRA, but he's pretty certain he left them back in the 1940s. And there's no aliens as far as he can tell, which is a relief. A civilised kidnapping? He remains on guard. ]

So, uh, anyone out there gonna fill me in on what I'm missing or am I really gonna have to do some investigating? [ He heaves a sigh, the camera pulling away from his face to focus on the uniform he's still wearing, and he mumbles to himself as he fumbles to figure out how to end the feed. ] ...'Cause I could sleep for a week.