[ 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 ))

[The face on the screen is very human: a tall, well-built korean man in a dark blue winter jacket with white snow fresh in his hair. The accent, language, and name, however, match someone else entirely. Kang stuffs his hands into his pockets and leans against the wall of the office building behind him.]

I'm sure most of us that have moved on-planet have found lodgings. For those who haven't, or need repairs, I have more than enough experience with construction, and I can assist.

[Private to Crucible:]

The results are in.

[...she's doing it. she's finally got the courage to show her bunny face to everyone. she's actually posting in video!

it's fitting, though, because it's related to what she wants to say. there's no hiding it now, and maybe, just maybe, she's getting over her hesitation around humans.]

Y'know, it's... it's really tough here, for those of us who aren't humans. We got trouble with goin' to the same places as the rest of y'all, and now... I mean, I'm happy we were able t'change what happened to these folks, but now, it's even harder. D'you know what I'm sayin'?

[frowning, she looks down into the snow. a cloudy blue sky is behind her.]

Us critter-types... I think we gotta stick together. We don't got much've a choice, now. I wanna find someplace where we can keep outta sight from the local folks, but still live happy and do what we need to to help. I guess what I'm sayin' is, we should group up.

[remembering something, she looks back at the camera with a mild sense of urgency.]

Uhh, although the first rule is, no eatin' of each other.

What do y'all think?

[ Because Rinth doesn't care for this video stuff when it leads to her being seen by who knows how many prying eyes! For this, however, it is necessary, and so at some point after the first few batches of Transports are Earth-side and before the Transporter itself is moved, a large, kind of jaguar-faced creature with two too many ears and several horns takes a step back from her tablet, leaving it wherever it's been set up to record from.

It's time to settle a few things here. ]

All right. Listen up, you mice. My name is Rinth Ghostshot, formerly of the Ghost Warband, engineer and soldier of the Iron Legion of Black Citadel, nearly fresh from active duty in the Dragonbrand. None of that's going to mean a mist-damned thing to any of you, but it means a whole lot to me, so don't forget it if you plan on dealing with me.

I am a charr, from Ascalon on Tyria. My entire culture is war. My morals and beliefs do not need to fall within acceptable human limits, nor do I care to follow any of your non-existent laws save for whatever I deem too extreme to get away with ignoring here. In fact, if it weren't for the cease-fire the Imperator agreed to, I would have left that transporter room killing you lot left and right, even though it sure doesn't apply to humans here...

[ So friendly, right?

But, hey, it's honest. That must count for something. ]

Ask questions now if you have them, because this is the only time I'm gonna feel like answering them.

All that aside, my other message is I've been down here a week already and I've scouted out an old work building that I plan on fixing up and getting some heaters and electricity into. It won't be much at first, but any others who are not human and need a place to stay safely are more than welcome to join me.

[ ooc note: of which more details can be found here. ]

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 )

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

So, he waited.

And waited.

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

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

This is not how you get what you want.

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

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

[Tch.]

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

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

[He grins, then winks.]

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

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

Good fucking luck.

[And off goes the video feed.]

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

[ she begins without preamble, speaking clearly and surely. ]

I have things to trade in the cafeteria. There's hams and cheeses, doughnuts, and juices. Socks too, and wet wipes, toys and jewelry. I've got books too for those who want them and markers in lots of colors. There's a lot more too. I'll be here all day or until it's all gone.

[ she took over a section of the cafeteria for her use. her direwolf lies beside her, guarding both her and the cart.

her wheeled cart ( commandeered from the clinic ) is full of items: the top has a tray of finger food from the promised cold hams and cheeses to oysters and shrimp packed in ice with sauces alongside, even cooked mini pizzas. below are assorted vending machine goods in their wrappers, sacks of ground coffee and hot chocolate, and a dozen fresh doughnuts. she has a pitcher of lemonade and a half-gallon of fruit punch.

in the drawers are assorted items such as wipes, hand sanitizers, socks and scarves, toys including a stuffed bear that moves and talks when you press its stomach, a few books and papers and markers.

hidden inside a bag at the girl's feet are a few cartons of cigarettes and small bottles of whiskey and wine for those who can pay a little extra. ]