[ when the feed clicks on, marduk is in what appears to be a ruined building near the edge of town. there's snow on the floor and holes in the walls, but he's not wearing a single scrap of winter clothing. more importantly, he doesn't look especially pleased to be doing this. ]

Recently, one of the locals here went missing. Don't ask me what his name was, I'm not the one who gives a shit. I'm just here to solve the mystery.

He's missing because he's dead, and he's dead because I killed him.

[ he pauses here. it looks like it's for dramatic effect, but really he's just trying to figure out how to end the announcement. ]

Most of you would call that murder, wouldn't you? Can't remember if you all figured out what to do about that, but-- if you want retribution, you can come and get it.

[ good enough. the video ends there. ]

[Today, the message is brief - and Sonya's back to her usual excessive brightness, a deep contrast to the last time she sent out a message.]

So what are everyone's New Year's resolutions? I'm a big proponent of publicly announcing what you intend to do so that later, people can publicly shame you if you don't keep to it. And yeah, okay, no one bust in with "We've been chatting about them elsewhere on the network," I don't stalk you, you shameless egotists, so I haven't heard, and I totally want to know.

Anyway, my number one resolution this year is to quit smoking. Again. And to learn how to cook something - anyone have any suggestions as to where you should start when you're learning to cook?

With the new year just a few days away, I was wondering what everyone's plans for the new year is?

Especially with regards to the ongoing situation with the United Earth.

And I understand that it's still a day early but... Happy New Year, everyone. I suppose that's one celebration we all must celebrate wherever we may be from.

[There's a small girl on the screen who looks barely older than twelve. Her voice is soft, with all emotion drained from it. The language used, though, definitely points to someone older.]

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Dlanor A. Knox, Chief Inquisitor of Hersey of the Great Courts of Heaven. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, despite our circumstances. I look forward to working with everyone in the future.

I have been informed that there is an organized police force run by Transports. I apologize for the broad message, but I'm unsure who I should contact if I wish to join. I'm new here.

Thank you for your help.

[Brief pause.]

I understand that a sizable chunk of the Transport population has migrated down to Earth. If I may ask, how are things progressing down there?

[ Roslyn is behind the camera again, face stern, Vennett & Lowell seated just behind her. She’s looking as calm and professional as she can, though traces of exhaustion are seeping through regardless of her best efforts. ]

I’m going to make this as brief as possible. We do not have laws governing the actions undertaken recently by people currently in custody. While hopefully there will shortly be a fuller code of conduct, we cannot apply it retroactively. I do not have the resources to keep anyone locked up indefinitely, nor can I provide a fair trial, and it would be morally suspect to do either in the current environment.

I believe there is a solution to this, one that several others agree with, including Lowell Orwin and Vennett here with me, both of whom were held hostage by these people and have a fair amount of insight into their mindset. However, given that you will all have to live with it as well, I’m going to bring this solution to general consensus.

Under this arrangement, as a first part all current prisoners will be released into the custody of someone who will agree to monitor their actions and ensure that they are not able to plan anything further. These parole officers will either be volunteers from the general population or police officers if necessary, and all will be very carefully vetted. If it is necessary we will ask them to submit to a brief telepathic scan.

The second part of this arrangement would be undertaking a set amount of missions under the supervision of Orwin and Vennett with the goal of putting forth effort into our return to Earth. I am assured that they will be doing real work that will benefit us all.

This is the solution that I and others hope will work best for everyone involved, as well as free up resources to continue working towards getting off of this base and setting up an actual system of leadership.

While Jesse Pinkman was not a member of this, as he has given back all powers taken he would be released under the same conditions.

This is being presented to you all as, essentially, a poll. That is the first option. The second option is ‘other’, and if that is your answer I must insist you provide a fully thought through and careful plan that does not simply consist of ‘strand them somewhere’ or ‘airlock them’. Should enough support be shown for a provided 'other' plan over parole, it will be considered as an option. 

Thank you all for your time. I hope this will be resolved very shortly.

[ And cut. ]


[ ooc: this is an ic poll of the population! you may vote once with each character you have in game. roslyn and others are available for question answering and so forth. ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ 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. ]

[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: )

[I.D. simply reads "Martin" now. and a Martin surely is at-hand! long time no see, network. only six-plus months long, nbd.

he looks fairly pleased and...relieved after a beat. because he's pretty sure he's figured this out.]

Hello... [his eyes wince. doubt.] Hello? [the screen tilts a little while he inspects something.]

I think this is right. It's been a long time since I've used one of these... [his stare trails away.] I took one of the new ones. I think that's alright, since mine's been gone for a long time...

[a beat. he looks back.]

Is everyone alright? Now that they're gone...

( PRIVATE to LILY )

( PRIVATE to ELLIE & DICK )

[ Her voice, while somewhat tired, is leveled as she speaks. ]

For the time being, the clinic should be stocked with some personal hygienic products anyone might have been wondering about. There's shampoos, soaps, sanitary napkins, and pads and tampons for the ladies. There's also patches for smokers. Anything else you're looking for, like medicine or bandages, you'll have to check with someone at the clinic.

Anyway, I asked the AI the decrypt a couple of drives belonging to the UE. There were various analytical notes specializing in robotics, specifically robotic spacecraft — rovers. For those unfamiliar: a rover is a vehicle used in space explorations. Depending on the design, they can either be partially or completely operated on their own, or they can transport crews.

There's a couple of bad ideas that come to mind knowing this information: one being they may have plans to come up here eventually and if they aren't fully aware how many of us are here, they'll find out.

Research also indicated "interdimensional colonization". We've been well aware for a while they're able to access portals into other worlds.

The drives also contained some notes on Project Chimera and talks of previous genetic projects the UE's researched. I'll forward anyone who wants a copy of these notes to look over.

[ For those who ask and receive: here. ]

Has anyone begun to compile the information we have together to make it more streamlined? I imagine the AI can likely do it if you ask.

Venite da me tutti voi che lavorate sotto un pesante giogo; io vi darò riposo.

[ no one will ever know how long it took her to type that.

the video clicks on after the message. vanozza set aside the red silks for today in favor of a simple apricot gown.

a show of humility is becoming with her topic. when she addresses the network, her smile is quiet and kind. ]

Idleness is a dreadful labor it is said, but rest is blessed. I have set aside a room to serve as a chapel. A place for peace and meditation. [ there are some simple directions here. ] I would be grateful for any assistance you, kind listener, may provide and would be glad for company besides. Those not of the Catholic faith are welcome as well. We are all but children in the eyes of the Lord; now is a time for togetherness.

[ the walls and floor have been washed and a few chairs appropriated from elsewhere. several pillows from the unoccupied rooms now sit on the floor for use of the supplicant. vanozza sacrificed one of her gowns to create a runner for the table upon which to set a cross. two unlit candles sit before it. the room is sparse, but clean and, as promised, peaceful. ]

[The video feed clicks on to show Heath in his quarters smiling widely at his audience]

Heeeey Exsilumites. Just trying that word out there, I think it works for us. It makes us sound way cooler than 'Transports', don't you think? Transports make us sound like we're, like, smuggled goods or something. Stuffed in some guys suitcase trying to sneak through customs.

[Wait, he had a point to this ramble, didn't he? He clears his throat]

ANYway, I noticed some of you guys have been getting all antsy about the werewolves, so I thought I'd give you some Monster High approved ways of keeping your werewolves happy. Just follow this advice and you shouldn't have to worry about being mauled unless you...you know antagonise them, and if you do that you're pretty much asking to be chewed on.

[He'll hold up a variety of toys to the camera. Squeaky chickens, tennis balls, even a Frisbee]

Now what all werewolves love is to play fetch. They'll chase pretty much anything. If you throw one of these things in the opposite direction you want to go, you can make sure the thing they're chasing isn't you. If you can't get any toys, sticks work too. ...Though I guess you can't get any sticks on the moon, unless there are like moon trees.

Are there moon trees?

[Back to the subject at hand, moon trees aren't important right now]

They also love steaks, so if you guys are heading out collecting stuff to bring back here, you should probably bring steaks. Not stakes. Because that's for a completely different monster and no one wants to encourage that kind of prejudice anyway.

So there you go! Remember that werewolves are just big adorable puppies in their fuzzy hearts and don't annoy them while they're suffering on the moon and everything will be A-OK. This has been a PSA by the Heathster. You've been a great audience!

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

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

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

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

[ there's an awkward second of someone fumbling with the device. when scott steps back a second later, the reason's obvious: he's trying to get it to balance on his desk, giving a clear view of both him and isaac standing a few feet off. ]

Hey. My name's Scott. I was here once before, so I guess I don't really have any questions.

[ except for maybe why am i back, but he knows that'd just be wasting time. anyway, they're broadcasting for a reason, and that's not it. ]

I know stuff is really weird here, like angels and superheroes and shapeshifters, so I don't really get the point in— [ keeping secrets? that's pretty broad. he obviously didn't map this speech out, so rather than making more of a mess he just stumbles for the finish line. ] I'm a werewolf. If you have a problem with that, let me know.

[ there's no challenge in his tone. it sounds more like "sorry, but we can probably talk it out". he almost steps forward to end the feed there, catching himself abruptly to add: ]

Isaac too. [ And Isaac offers a casual little wave at that, in the midst of all his eyerolling at Scott's... presentation of sorts. Really, Scott. ]

People are missing and people are hurt, and we want to help, but we can't do anything if we're too busy hiding. [ which is the real point of this, except hold up, one last thing. ] And we know there's a full moon in a few days, but we aren't crazy and we won't hurt anyone.


( ooc: icly the day after the party/kidnappings. all dialogue is scott's because isaac is rude, but replies will come from one or both! )

[ The sound of the rain dominates the feed for some seconds before Dinah's worked breath takes over. ]

So! Quick question. Where do you put miscreants and petty thieves? Do we have something like a jail for raggedy, violent islanders?

[ A moment of silence, in which Dinah's breathing is still there. ]

Because I've got a few of them lined up over here and I ran out of rope.

[Birds of Prey (Helena/Babs)]

Is any of you missing the Aerie as much as I do?

[The tablet has been carefully propped on a library table against some books in order to capture video of Charles from the mid-chest up. Or, initially a close up of his face all frowny and concentrating and then he pushes away to lean back again.]

Hello. I'm Professor Charles Xavier, something of a recent arrival, although, it seems as if I've been here previously. If you happen to remember me from before the beginning of this month, I'm afraid I don't remember you, but I'd be fascinated to know anything you can tell me, if you don't mind.

I'll return to that in just one moment, but there's a rather important thing I have to get to first. The locals, those who have been living in Exsilium long before we were ever summoned here, are not happy with the current state of affairs. And can you really blame them? They've been told we're here to help, but they've no proof of it, not when it involves time travel and reality modification. All they can see is the negative attention we draw from the United Earth, and the preference given to Transports over them. So, this is my proposal: we form a team to protect them. A team that visibly makes an effort to prevent harm from coming to the Exiles, that protects them where the Initiative might not. It won't be easy, especially right now, at the beginning. They don't trust, or like us. But with time, if we demonstrate our willingness to coexist and use our resources to help them, there is no reason for us to remain at odds. Now! What is a volunteer service without volunteers--which is where you lot come in. If any of you are inclined to help, or even if you only want to ask questions, do speak up. The more of us there are, the better use we'll be.

As for my previous self, it seems as if he'd, or, I'd managed to secure funding, and a building of some sort for the purposes of, well, creating a school. I've really no idea if any of his arrangements carried over to me, but before I go looking into that, I'd prefer to know how far he managed to get. Did any renovations occur? Where is the building to begin with?! If any of you know anything about this school, I'd be terribly grateful for your help.

[He smiles, and then leans forward again, to switch it off.]

[Chloe--long time no see, network-- is settled down in a dimly lit bit of local architecture. At least it looks that way at first glance; Initiative buildings are usually a touch more pristine, and one hell of a lot more futuristic.]

Evening lads and ladies. Given the way things've been going lately between our sort and the locals, there's no doubt that finding what we need to get by isn't exactly an easy venture. Then again, when everything around here is coated in a couple hundred years of grit, it wasn't all that easy to begin with. [A small, thoughtful little beat. Drummed out on a table too low to see.] Or worth it for that matter.

Which is why after a lengthy hiatus, I'm pleased to announce that my item retrieval service is back up and running-- with a few minor adjustments.

[The camera shifts, dipping slightly as whoever’s holding the tablet shifts their hands. The cameraman in question hisses at her, clearly trying and failing to be discreet:] Oi, your retrieval service?

Well it was mine first. The next time you wind up in an alien future before the rest of us you can go start your own bloody business.

Fine, alright. Go on then. [And the camera shifts up again, less steady than before.]

--Right. So as I was saying. For those of you that need something-- anything-- found or picked up or even gently borrowed from a few bygone eras, Frazer and Cutter's Acquisitions and Fine Antiques is here to manage it for you. For a few nominal fees of course, and with much less glaring than what you’ll find around here.

Trust me, with the sort of luck the Initiative’s been having, you’ll want a pair of professionals on your side.


**Charlie Cutter is in red and the pair of them are more than happy to respond to any incoming inquiries or requests!

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!))

[It's the first time she's shown her face on the network, attached it to her name; an unprecedented situation calls for caution. But the moment now is opportune. Her words will have more resonance if the people can see who's behind them.

Words that, while delayed slightly because of circumstance, have been far from forgotten.]

In my short time here, it has been clear to me that a lack of organization is a detriment to the operations of the Initiative, and, by extension, the well-being of Transports. Efforts have been made recently to address this lack of organization, but while commendable, they are not without their concerns.

By making a move such as that proposed to create a Transport-only governing body, we forget ourselves, as well as our cause. We forget that the Transport population is merely part of a whole, one that must be united in the face of a common threat. By making such a move, we only risk further alienating the Exiles, creating a larger rift when we cannot afford one in the first place.

I do not believe this move is ideal. More time and care are needed to consider the consequences it might have. To consider alternative solutions.

[She pauses, gives time for all of that to breathe before she concludes.]

If you have thoughts or concerns, I urge you to air them. This is a matter which affects us all, and every voice that wishes to be heard should be allowed the opportunity.

[ dean isn't looking particularly friendly today. no smirky smiles laced with suggestive amusement rest on his face. in fact, he looks beyond tired; sleepless nights are written all over his features, the hard planes of his face even harder than normal.

when shit hits the fan not once, but twice, you don't look your best. ]

Stay away from Castiel. You know, nerdy guy in a trench coat, blue tie… angel of the Lord. He's not himself, and he's dangerous.

If you see him, contact me immediately, okay? Name's Dean Winchester, for those who don't know. Lem'me be clear; don't approach him, just-- don't.

[ he pauses then, green eyes falling from the screen as he gathers his thoughts. ]

And for those who knew him, Sam Winchester is gone.

[ click. ]

[ 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. ]

Here's a saying: in youth the days are short and the years long, in old age, it's just the opposite.

[ Nash is sitting in his apartment, with a cup of tea. He takes a polite sip. ]

Recently I've discovered that my birthday was— oh, a week ago, maybe. [ His non-occupied hand gestures vaguely. ] I know what you're thinking! You don't have to get me anything. I wouldn't have anyplace to put it.

No, I'd just like to let everyone know that I've decided not to have anymore birthdays. I'm old enough already, and I don't think any that I have here should count. We're always supposedly going back and fourth in time. I'm sure some of that's undoing itself. If I understand it correctly, that's the whole point.

Henceforth, I, Nash Clovis, will still be thirty-seven. No less, and definitely no more.

[ Another sip of his tea. ]

Here's another saying: you can't choose how you come into this world, but you can choose how you leave it.

[Here's Sonya again, with big speeches again, and with a big smile again. This time, however, she seems a bit less...peppy. A lot less peppy, really, and a lot more drawly and annoyed.]

Hi. Sonya Karimov. Most of us have met. The ones I don't know can do their homework as to who I am. Don't like repeating myself. Anyway. Pleasure.

So I'm about to use some salty language. Normally I'd say cover your children's ears, but I figure they could use some of this too, so here we go.

Apparently some people are being dicks to us. Cool. I want to say, before anyone gets any stupid fucking ideas: let it the fuck go. Always. Without exception. Don't retaliate. Honestly, I don't think you should even fight back, really. Not with any force. Some of you are soldiers and some of you are assholes, so you're probably thinking, No, I'm not letting that go, to which I say thanks for bringing it down on the rest of us. No. Don't punch or kick or stab; just get the fuck out of any confrontations, whether they're someone smacking you in the face or spitting on you or whatever.

Okay, part two. When in doubt, lawyers form committees, so I'm forming a committee. My tentative name for it is "The Committee to Keep Us the Fuck Alive," though I'm open to names that would look better on letterhead. Basically, we're a whole lot of talent who aren't the least bit organized, so I'm thinking we need some organization. Basically, if you have ideas for emergency response, as well as smoothing over things with the people around us, I want to talk to you. Chime in here.

[And, dryly:]

Third, and this goes out to everyone: chin the fuck up. We're alive, we're not puking all over ourselves anymore, we've got a future ahead of us. So no whining about wanting to go home. It's a waste of time and breath. Be useful. That's all.

[ The screen comes on, this is broadcasting more or less like anything flagged with a tiny 'important!' flaggy sign on a forum would have been. Tony looks to be in a good mood, he's clearly been working, and still is, apparently, seeing as it's a few of his workshop.

(Dummy can be seen sweeping, if one pays attention to this while Tony's speaking, instead of to Tony, they will see DUM-E2 sweeping, Jellyroll accidentally drop something on a swept part of the floor, and then some sort of robot whirring fight - at some point DUM-E-JR came over - ...starts?

No, it doesn't, because Max comes in and quietly picks up the knocked over thing and gives the little broom to DUM-E-JR who is delighted, tells the others to power down for a bit.)

Tony was aware of all that, but that's how his life works now anyway, so whatever. ]

I know my place isn't the only one that got bashed in a smidge with all those bombs. Yikes. Now I'm not puking my guts out, I've got most of my repair done as far as I know, so I'm up for commissions again, or just lending a helping iron hand if you need one. [ He doesn't want this to seem too altruistic. ] We'll just call it collecting good karma or something. Just bring me shit to fix if you've got shit that needs fixing. [ Still happy, still actually kind of working on things during that whole talk. But he seems to be done now, turning and halfway through a sentence to JARVIS when he shuts the feed off from across the little corridor between two long tables. ]

[forward-date to around 3 or 4am 6/13. poster ID for this tablet is MARTIN DARKOV, but this is not the Martin you are looking for. here is a pretty face for you.

actually, no. this was a pretty face, but there is a lot of ugly going on here. scabs and grooved flesh all along the right side...eye nearly swollen shut.

this gal's brow is furrowed, straining, contradicting the lazy smile it wears.

slow, methodical, yet wavering after each letter:]

D. A. R. [swallow. a wider smile and a shakier voice.] K. O. V.

[it blinks a few times; there's a couple tears trailing from behind the monocle.]

Oh. Sh. Shh.

We solved a mystery.

[ The name on this post is still Bariyan e Kodhi, but its current owner is mostly certainly not Bariyan.

Cat's sitting at a desk, elbow propped against its surface, his hand in his hair. The collar of his shirt has been pulled away to show the mess that's been made of his neck -- frost-nipped skin, bruising, great big bloody scratches. He's made no effort to tend to his injuries yet. He has, however, taken time to make sure that his hair is completely perfect.

He scowls. ]

Tell me, did anyone else here get physically assaulted by their roommate the moment they opened their fucking door? Or was I the only one who got tossed in with a goddamn psychopath?

[ Cat paws at his neck and looks surprised to feel blood-- he pulls his hand away hastily, tries to wipe it off on the back of his other hand, snarling in irritation. ]

This is the exact reason why I don't... like... sharing.

[ He's barely finished spitting his last syllable before he turns the tablet off. Then he picks it up and flings it at the wall, shrieking, but thankfully that portion of his incredibly mature and reasonable fit doesn't make it onto the network. ]

[Kara's casually draped at her table, nursing a beer, smoking a stogie. Thank the gods for those base creature comforts. Still, she looks a little bored at the moment. Because there is one thing lacking in her life. Well many things, but at the moment, it's the lack of card night. Hope her roomies don't mind some company because she's about to invite everyone over, more or less.]

You know what this place needs? Card night.

[Seriously, she misses wiping the floor with the other folks on Galactica and feeding her gambling habit.]

Anyone else around here even play, other than Remy? We can't be the only ones around here, am I right?

Oh-! Oh, Exsilium! How wonderful to see you once again!

[The red-skinned, four eyed alien behind the camera looks utterly delighted, though by the looks of her surroundings she’s found herself in a very depressing and shabby-looking building. But still, all four of her eyes are crinkled in delight and her grin is wide, and toothy. She obviously couldn't wait long to post this; judging by the background of the video, she’s in the courtyard of the Initiative Hold, and is occasionally wiping droplets of water from her tablet with one hand.]

Wonderful, again! Has it been long since I was gone!? How is the Clinic? It is thrilling to have returned!

[She pauses for a handful of seconds, and looks away, her expression turning from bright to cheerful, to something more restrained, thoughtful.]

Ah. But. I suppose, I should ask. If my captain has returned. If my friends are still...still well. If the war is still present. Though I am certain it is. [She sighs, then grins once again, her slightly-somber mood apparently over.]

Of course, I am still eager to assist! As I have before! It is my duty as long as I am here!

Transports of Exsilium! I am Kinna Nananea! A doctor- a medical doctor, I understand this distinction is important for humans! Please address to me all your medical complaints!

[The video shows someone that may be familiar to a few, but who hasn't been seen for a while.

Also for some reason, she looks as though she is dressed like some sort of super hero or something.]

So.... I'm back here, apparently? Yay, I guess.

Anyone want to explain the spaceship? This is why you shouldn't drink and drive.

[ If the Initiative ever wanted proof of how well they expanded their network's range, this would be it.

Normally Caesar isn't prone to using video, but this will be one of his few exceptions. He's sitting in a large metal chair, one with all sorts of technical whatzits and doodads that he'll never ever fully understand on his own attached. For those more future-inclined, it looks an awful lot like the captain's chair of, say, a spaceship's bridge. He waits a few beats until he's sure the tablet, either held by someone else or propped up on something across from him, is broadcasting. ]

Good evening, Exsilium.

If someone would be kind enough to go wake the Initiative up for us and let them know we have something large, space-faring, and very high up above the island right now that we'd like to bargain with them for, that would be really great.

( OOC note: Feel free to threadjack! This is totally a threadjackable post. )

[The picture starts on a stack of quiet a few thin books. Closer inspection would reveal that they are apparently collections of piano music. Some music lover seems to have lucked out and found these for dirt cheap somewhere since they're next to useless in this place.

Right as people may begin questioning who is doing this, a kitten that's appeared on screen before walks up and starts curiously poking at the books with her nose. A hand reaches in to grab her as the tablet is seemingly placed against the books due to the odd angle it holds for a few moments.]

Hey, be careful with those!

[The voice, if recognizable, is oddly soft and gentle despite the chastising. Like he was hoping no one would hear that. Oops.

Finally the video sharply turns to show a very serious looking Elliot as Arietta squirms from his grasp onto his shoulder.]

Does anyone know who these people are?! Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Tchaikovsky... [He probably mispronounced a few of those.] There are dozens of these guys and I've never heard of any of them! Do all of them live in this place?!

[Elliot seems to think that finding out this information is incredibly important from the tone in his voice.]