I have information to share with you all, about information that we lack.

[a pause.]

( LOTS OF TALKING )

The reports seem to be mixed. Have those of you who have returned found yourselves safe places and warm clothing? Some have offered already; I should hope the message has reached those in need.

I'm not certain of what remaining here could be of use to you Earthside, but it can be brought when I join you. But not just yet.

[a beat.]

The people...

What are they like now?

Some time ago, there was a discussion about remaining on the moon instead of returning to Exsilium. [The tauren's words are punctuated by hooves crunching on snow, and the soft sound of something being dragged.]

I believe this is a topic that we should revisit. [The dragging noise stops, and a....large-cow-sitting-down noise occurs.]

The land is now even harsher than it was before, and the natives take less kindly to us as well...particularly those of us who are non-human. And the moon base offers safety - for us and those we are here to help. I realize that we have had...difficulties...being in that confined structure, but it should be much easier now that we can come down, if we need to.

[A pause.] In addition, I am not certain...I am not certain what will happen to us if we are able to change Exsilium back to the one we remember. This new place...it is obviously very different. It feels almost as if the planet moved into another timeway, while we on the moon stayed....unaffected.

[Another pause.] I....'m sorry, I do not understand time traveling well. But, anyway...the moon base. Let us talk?

Hello again, Esilium. Long time no talk-- [Chloe's looking under the weather in terms of wear and tear only; her bright eyes actually bright today for a change. For the first time in months, as a matter of fact.] good god does it feel good to be free again. Never thought I'd be saying those words, but there you have it.

And don't worry, no more lectures on this end. No more daily mutineering announcements: I can catch up on what I missed in lock up by scrolling though the network on my own and I've got a more important issue that needs addressing first. [There's a brief pause before she adds, gently as possible:] Obviously anyone that wants to talk shop about what went down is welcome to, of course. Just-- you know. We're on the fast track to recovery around here from what it looks like, so I'm not about to force anything else down anyone's throats as long as that remains the case.

Thanks, by the way, for not unanimously voting for throwing us all out the airlock. [Nice to know not everyone wants them done in or worse.]


Right, though, to the point. I need someone willing and capable of doing tattoo work. Good tattoo work.

In this case I'm even willing to consider the magical sort so long as nothing additional goes along with it. Not really a fan of curses and poisoned apple nonsense.


Additional text addressed to Vanozza:

not sure if I should be thanking you for this or asking why you of all people are signing up to look after someone like me right now

[Last time Jaime posted as Blue Beetle, he kept to text. This time, he thinks that people might need a face - masked as it may be - to match to the words. His voice is put through a technological filter, just distorted enough for him to keep from being recognized. He's in the VR room in the most professional looking room he could think of, which is essentially a large table with wall-to-wall windows behind him looking out onto San Francisco - potentially recognizable to some canonmates as a loose copy of the Titans Tower meeting room, which is fairly generic anyway.]

So... hi. I'm Blue Beetle. A bunch of you already know that I've been trying to dig up as much info on the Chimera Project as I can - those are the cloned children, for you new guys - and I think I've got enough information to get going. Thanks to everyone who helped me out with this, by the way - you know who you are. I know everyone must be really tired of hearing people give long speeches by now, so I'll try to keep it short. [He smiles at the camera for an instant, a flash of white, human teeth behind the armour]

[He's making an effort to sound professional, but he's not used to public speaking. Sometimes, he looks down at his lap instead of the camera (consulting his notes as if he's giving a speech for class if he's honest about it) and he's stiff, uncomfortable, but his voice is even and steady. Small victories, and victories born of actually rehearsing.

Are you ready for a fun history lesson, Transports? Because you're sure as hell going to get one.]

( Non-IC cut! )

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 )

[Sonya appears on the screen without her usual preambles or cheerful introductions. Her manner is very, very controlled. The casual Bronx vowels that occasionally creep into her speech are gone. The profanities are gone. Every once in a while, she glances down; this is a prepared statement.]

Earlier today, Jesse Pinkman snuck into one of the prisoner cells under false pretenses. He’d been friends with one of the mutineers before all of this happened, so he claimed to merely want to visit.

While he was in there, he mutilated this prisoner in spirit and soul. He ripped from her her ability, her inborn gift, to cast spells. He tore away from her something as vital to her as eyesight or touch might be for you. And did he did this to defend someone? To stop an attack or a threatened attack? No: he did it to punish her. To make her suffer. And then he said to her that this is how things are running now.

( fuzzy drama funny drama drama drama fuuuck (ps not an ic cut) )

( 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! )

[he's in the process of tilting this device to its proper angle as this turns on, and only a beat passes before he stills, his expression drawn but placid.]

Should you find yourself, throughout all these wanderings in this world's time...standing at the very moment the United Earth's rule handed over to a computer, what do you believe you would do? If you know yourself well enough to know.

This precise moment is unknown to us. The chance is there. And it being so critical to everything about our current state... [a slight pause, mouth pressing into a thin line.]

I feel it something that needs consideration among us.

[another beat, and he shifts to turn the public feed off.]



( private filters to CABLE, RAIDEN, and SOFIYA KARIMOV: )

[ the video opens on a table, spread with long cards, most of them face-down. the one showing is xvi, the tower. the camera pans out, a little jittery, to show physis sitting at her card table, turned to the side in agitation. blue is knelt on the floor beside her, glancing up at her with concern.

it was almost like it's all happening again, but this time she can't be quiet about it. she doesn't know the initiative as well, she can't really trust their efficiency in the face of something like this. the mu were always mobile, the moment they knew their location was compromised, they would find another one. that wasn't the case in exsilium, and the warning was necessary. ]

To those who don't know me, my name is Physis. I have the [ gift? not hardly. ] ability of foresight, clairvoyance.

We've made ourselves known, acted openly against our enemy, and they are preparing to make a retaliation. We are to be an example of how they retain their power, I have seen it.

Does anyone know what the Black Code entails?

–omeone...

[a beat, a breath heavily drawn and shakily exhaled. sentences are punctuated with overlong breaks.]

Help me understand. Not one person I have spoken to recalls this mission...But she is still gone. [breath.] Physis is. Others, perhaps? I don't know. No one has any recollection...

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!))

[ 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. ]

[He thought he could handle this situation on his own, somehow. He thought he would sort it out eventually, that it wouldn't matter to anyone but him -- these were creatures designed for his torment, meant to make him suffer. Their harsh murmurs tear at him more deeply and specifically than anyone else; unlike the others, he feels their burning claws slice into his back, their eyes boring into him. The demons curl around his ankles like unwanted cats; they settle in the chinks of his armor and hiss, their whispers as corrosive as acid. They don't tell him anything he hasn't heard before, which is partly why he's taken so long to say anything. He feels sure that the problem was contained--confined, even, to Koltira alone.

But recent posts on the network suggest that this is not the case.

Koltira stands in the center of his lake, on his platform of ice. Byfrost is stuck into the platform beside him, its blade completely invisible beneath the thick, writhing mass of miasma that envelops it.]

I apologize. If you have heard cruel whispers recently, or seen the shadows emerge from the dark and give chase, then I am to blame. They are demons meant for me, released by the evolution of my runeblade.

[He pauses a moment before continuing. His usually inscrutable expression is pained: his eyes are half-closed, his lips are thin, and his long eyebrows are drawn together in frustration. He hates that he has to do this, but there's no other choice.]

I cannot defeat them. They are reaching out from their own plane of existence, a realm of shadows.

[Another pause. He's getting there. It's happening.]

I ... I am powerless to enter this place. But if any of you are willing, I can send you to it. You could clear them away.

[His fingers close into a clenched fist over his chest. He exhales.]

Please.

[Kili doesn't waste time with formalities. He looks strained and tired, dark shadows lining his eyes. No doubt he hasn't been sleeping well.]

I'm looking for Thorin Oakenshield. He's a dwarf like me, dark hair, blue eyes, probably carrying an elvish sword. I've been told he is here, but so far I've been unable to locate him.

[His hands are trembling slightly as he draws one over his face, rubbing lightly.]

If anyone has information on him, please tell me. [A moment of hesitation.] My name is Kili and the best place to find me would be the training rooms.

[This lady might be a new arrival but she is going to be damned if she appears with anything less than perfect hair and perfect make-up.]

Good morning, everyone. First, thank you to everyone who welcomed me so warmly on this chilly day. I'm Sofiya Karimov, and I'm new to this city, and I'm asking for a little bit more help from all of you - trying to get in here before all the other people I saw rush to give their introductions.

First, I'd like a world map and a compass. Don't ask me what it's for, because I'm not going to tell you and I'll get really annoyed if you ask.

[She sounds cheerful, like she's joking.]

Second, I need the names of useful people. I mean really useful. You might think you're useful, but then you come and you start talking about your emotions, and that's not really all that useful to me. Smart people, literate, willing to work and put something in place. Heads down, getting it done. They're what I want. And if you're not them, then no complaining to Chicken Little when you don't like the taste of her bread.

I'm a lawyer. I'm going to be starting with the system of law here. You have things in place, and you've all done decently, but it's underdeveloped. There'll be more after that. Interested?

[And cheerily, with a little salute, she shuts it off.]

Well hello there everyone. Welcome to the newer faces, how are you doing to both the new and old. In case you don't recognize this face or the hat, I'm Phoenix Wright, and I've got an announcement for you guys.

As of a few days ago, it seems like we've got a missing child on our hands. His name is Miles and he's about - oh - five feet eleven inches? I don't know how much he weighs, he's got grey hair and he was last seen wearing a red suit and a really intense cravat. He's... 24 years old, I think.

He hasn't been in his room and hasn't been coming in to work, either. His family is very worried about him. So.

[There is a few seconds' pause here, where Phoenix's rather playful expression sobers up. He keeps the smile, but he's definitely more serious now. A little sad, even.]

That is to say, it doesn't seem like Miles Edgeworth is here anymore. Haven't been able to reach his tablet or anything. I don't know if he'll come back like he did last time, but like last time, if you had any business with him I recommend contacting Miss Franziska von Karma. She might be able to help you out some.

[Another little silence. He's looking away from the camera. He mumbles some words like "They're all going somewhere." "How many is this now?" "I guess it's better they're not here, but." "It's starting to get kind of lonely." "I hope he's okay."

Then he turns back to the screen again, the first wide smile back on his face.]

Now, in case you don't know what he looks like! I drew a picture. I'm pretty confident in the likeness, if I do say so myself. I think the dog's still around...

[ There's a scruffy, friendly-lookin dude front and center here, sort of recognizable as the slightly older, longer-haired version that used to go around being stuffy and formal. This sheepish smile is pretty uncharacteristic of him from back then, though. ]

Hello! I'm Ashraf. I was here a while ago, co-director of the transport-run clinic? [ He offers a wave. ] So hello again to anyone that knew me. I'm sorry in advance if I don't remember you very well, it's been about fifty years on my end! [ says the guy who doesn't look a day over 20 ]

So, anyway— I figured this could be a long shot, but... does anyone have a way with clothing?

[ Here's where the sheepish smile makes a triumphant return. He pulls up a pair of beautifully embroidered robes, obviously expensive, but currently full of violent-looking rips, tears, and a bullet hole or two. There's also some bloodstains left over from attempts to wash them out. ]

I tried, I really did. At this point, I think it's going to take magic to set these straight. Or a whole new set, maybe. So, um... any takers? I could pay!

I hope that everyone will make the best of their new housing arrangements. The meeting of two personalities is like the mixing of chemicals: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.

[soft piano music begins.]

Of course, "home" is not a place, but people. Seeing the face of a loved one brings you home. Likewise, the presence of an enemy brings you back to the conflict you have with him, regardless of your physical location.

[he pauses, letting the piano fill in the empty, unstated spaces around his words.]

...No matter who else may come, I'm fortunate to have that good part of my home here with me.

[ 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 name attached to this account, and thus with all applicable comments within this entry, reads Haruka Takahashi, as usual. ]

Hey. I have a question, if you're willing to answer.

Say I need to see a doctor, or something similar to one. Because I am surly, uncooperative, and paranoid, I would sooner toss myself in the Atlantic than go to the Initiative for "help."

I see, as is logical, that my fellow interdimensional abductees have started their own medical clinic.

So, how trustworthy are *they*? I have a relatively bad history with doctors as it is, and, as mentioned, I am uncooperative and paranoid. I don't want to blindly trust someone who might, for example, "accidentally" publish my brand new medical record, or treat me like a guinea pig for some pet project they were developing in their former world.

The reason I need one isn't anything so urgent where I'll keel over and die in the next few hours, without medical attention. I'm pretty sure, anyway. But, I'd appreciate insight, rather than demands I swallow my pride and go to the first person who claims good intentions and to be able to help.

Thanks in advanced.

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

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

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

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

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

video
Hey, good afternoon! I'm sure most of you don't remember me, but I was here for a while up until about a month ago. Annnd my stroke of good luck has brought me back, so there's that... I was hoping I could get in touch with some of my old friends this way, but I've also met a lot of friendly new faces within these past couple of days. My name is Asami, and I really think it'll be a pleasure getting to know some of you guys!

I guess to hit the ground running, and maybe to keep my life at least a little consistent, I'm interested in starting a business around here. I know we have some lab tech guys, and I'm not sure if you're looking into selling any products... And then a couple of people have expressed a need for more clothing or food options. Obviously there are limitations to what I can do, and it'll probably take more than one person to get something off the ground, but I'm in the idea stages right now if you would like to throw them at me.

[ She sighs, feeling as if she's been talking a little quickly. ] Basically, I want to help make life a little easier around here. If anything else, I'll be willing to join in on something that already exists.

[ A glance downwards. Cheater, she's written a little list to get her through her points! But this one's for Blaine: ]

Oh. One other thing, I was wondering if anyone else has gone home and come back and what that experience has been like as far as memory and continuity go.

That's all. You guys have a great day!

action
[ Also, this chick will be causing a ruckus out on the streets today with her new motorbike. It is loud, those wheelies are completely accidental, and it travels from 0 to 60 faster than anything she's ever driven.

Sure, it's exciting, but also hella dangerous and very embarrassing. ]

[ The video feed opens in a rather mundane fashion: an expressionless man sitting within the library in the Initiative Hold, his tablet on a desk in front of him as he pages through a book--a somewhat battered old volume of history. ]

I have two questions. I would appreciate some answers, if you could.

[ His voice is deep and serious, but also remarkably flat and toneless. ]

I understand that the other "Transports" here represent a wide variety of worlds. How many come from one with similar components to this one? A ruined Earth, or one near ruin, and a repressive absolute government guiding humanity in the wake of that disaster.

[ He closes the book and sets it down on the desk just out of the screen's frame. ]

The second question is simple. Can anyone recommend somewhere I can find decent coffee?

[The first time the feed turns on, it focuses on a blank wall, and then blurs as it is turned around. Thorin emerges, leaning into the camera until the tip of his nose almost touches it. He stares for a few moments--a subtle wetting of his throat--and then he growls to himself:] Ridiculous. Nonsensical-- [He starts to say something else before it is cut off completely.]

[Almost an hour later he tries again, in a different room, with a grumpy, yet subjected scowl. This wasn't something he had been expecting to have to do again--was none too thrilled about the prospect of it--but it needed to be done.]

I have counted twenty-six days since I arrived in this place. Far more sunsets I have seen than the presence of my own kind. I had not wanted to believe it, but there are no dwarves here. Or they hide themselves well, even from me. [He hasn't seen a single mountain either, for that matter.] As far as I've gathered, we are but legend in this realm.

Then it is not a far stretch to assume you are in need of a smith or a stone worker--as your city lacks a pair of hands true in their mastership. I extend to you my services, and the guarantee you will not find one more skilled with a hammer or forge than a dwarf.

I go by Thorin Oakenshield. You may address me on this talking book.

[ she almost made this anonymous, but in the end concluded she could figure out a way to ask what she wanted without incriminating herself. ]

I have two questions for everyone.

1) Are there people here who have more than human abilities that can affect other people's minds? And if so, are any of them willing to help others train in resistance of mental interference?

2) How many people here have no experience fighting?

Oh actually 3 questions, I guess. I wouldn't mind finding a few people to spar with, if anyone else is looking. I used to do martial arts as a hobby, so I'm not entirely inexperienced.

[ ooc: if anyone wants to log out / action sparring encounters just let me know! ]

[Rain. That's what the video catches for a good few minutes. That, and the occasional upside down passerby. Soon enough, M'gann reaches a hand over and takes the tablet, angling it so it shows her sitting by a restaurant window under an awning. Instead of her usual green complexion, she appears to be an average caucasian female, made to blend right in with the natives.

Eyes facing the camera, the martian stares at it a moment before sighing.]

Maybe it's the rain finally getting to me, but I can't help feeling a little restless right now. And I know we just had a big mission not even two weeks ago in addition to all the chaos before that. I don't get it.

I've tried meditation, baking and even walking around the city. Nothing's helped so far. Anyone have any suggestions on how I can shake this? Who knows, maybe just talking to someone will make a difference. I'm open to ideas.

( Telepathy to Blue )

[Koltira's at his lake, sitting cross-legged in its center, on a platform of pure, glittering frost. Byfrost, his runeblade, is stuck in the ice beside him, glowing darkly--a black miasma crawls and leaps around the sword throughout this transmission, though it doesn't seem to bother Koltira much. Rather, his attention is fully fixed on the tablet, which he holds up with one gloved hand. He's wearing a black, high-collared shirt with long sleeves; no armor at all is visible. A collection of glass bottles, most of them empty, surrounds him.

It's been about a month since his blood frenzy, and several weeks since he and a few of the others handled Arthas. Aside from his night out with Bariyan for New Year's Eve, Koltira has tried to seclude himself from the population of the island, and definitely tried not to talk about all the terrible things that happened during his frenzy.

He is a creature of guilt and despair even at the best of times, but this most recent go-round on the misery carousel has left him deeper in darkness than ever before. He's decided that he needs to offer some apologies. Some explanations.]

Before I speak to you of the true matter at hand, I wish to thank those of you who assisted in dealing with Arthas and rescuing the Lady Proudmoore. Though he escaped, it will likely be some time before he is strong enough to trouble us again.

[He pauses. His expression, which had been entirely stoic, turns downcast.]

Important as that is, however, it's not why I'm talking to you. I mean to apologize for my actions of some weeks ago, especially to those unfortunate enough to encounter me in the forest. I am so terribly sorry for the harm I caused. I was not in full control of my faculties--that is why I tried to issue a warning.

[He shifts in position slightly, so as to pick up one of the fuller bottles and take a fortifying drink. All right. Pressing on.]

As some of you know, I am a death knight, of a world called Azeroth. I was killed, and then my raising into undeath was ordered by Arthas himself. My body is the product of the worst kind of necromancy, and the curses that bind me together extend beyond the flesh. All of my kind are subject to constant pain; barely tolerable to living senses even at its lowest levels. We were designed, quite literally, to be killing machines in the service of the Lich King--a name that Arthas has taken now, and that he will indeed eventually become.

[Another pause, another drink. This part of the explanation is his least favorite, but he knows he must tell it, in the interest of honor and transparency.]

Our essential curse is this: the longer we--the longer I--go without inflicting suffering on another living creature, the more we suffer in turn. If enough time passes, we fall into madness. We think of nothing but blood. Seeking it. Spilling it. Our pain becomes excruciating. Unbearable, wracking spasms.

I fight against this every day, as do all my brothers and sisters in death. But it is not easy, and I occasionally fail.

[He winces even as he talks. Almost through it.]

Again ... I am sorry for the pain I've caused. In the interests of the city, both yourselves and the general population, I've left the apartments. I shall remain here, and I shall limit my time among you, save as I must come and go in service of your protection against other threats.

It is all I can do.

[He's quiet for a moment, staring down at the ice. That's all, right? That's all he can say, he thinks. He ends the transmission.]

[ Asami noticed something had changed about her weapon, the electrified glove that had come with her from home. Superficially, it was a bit sleeker, and she noticed the change after her post-training shower and nap. There wasn't a lot for her to do these days besides training; whereas at home she might go for a drive or shop, she didn't have the means to do either, and so it made sense that her weapon evolved a little quicker than she anticipated. The change wasn't drastic, but it was noticeable.

She slipped on the glove upon seeing it, just to make sure it still fit. It did, and her fingers wiggled without feeling too tight. The metal fingers clinked together, once or twice more, and then...

ZZZZZZZAP!

Her roommates or anybody passing by Room 510 should notice the sound of an electrical pop, followed by a short, startled scream.

So it is, Asami is on her back on her bedroom floor, groaning tightly and trying to regain her bearings. After the initial shock, a shaky hand withdraws her netbook from the pocket of her sweatpants. Her hair is so afro'd that she looks like she stepped right out of a Twisted Sister video, which means showing herself on camera is out of the question! ]

H-hey, thisisAsami and I thinkIneedahairstylist and maybe— nngh— renovationstomy... room...

Thankyousomuch!

[ She's just going to lay here and recover a little bit before responding to anybody. Bluh. ]

[Again, Lucifer is in the borderlands somewhere, holed up in some ruins. This time, however, the walls behind him are scrawled with charred sigils and there's the residual feeling of magic in the air. Someone - likely the devil himself, but could be anyone! - has recently cast a spell here. If this is a concern to Lucifer, he doesn't make it known. Instead, the camera hovers in front of him as he looks thoughtful.]

This inquiry is directed to individuals with more than five senses. If you can't sense magic, then you can go do something else if you want.

To those who know when the fabric of the universe is being messed with, please continue.

[He clears his throat and wipes ash off his hands.]

At the masquerade, someone was messing around with time. If, my friendly time-messer, you are listening to this, you should let me know. I don't think you will, but just to put that out there.

If you have any other ideas on who is messing with time, I'd love to hear them. And everyone, I imagine. As we're all hostages together, it's important for us to have a greater understanding of what we can do, so we can get things done together.

That's all.



[PRIVATE TO CROWLEY.]

I think you've had a reasonable enough headstart.


[PRIVATE TO PRESTOR.]

Still waiting on those virgins. Don't make me forcibly remove them from you.

[timed after this. Because this is just.... not alright and -- ]

I can't be the only person who comes from a place, where for the most part... elves, fae, bogarts, and all such manner of creatures are something that you hit over the head with a poker before you befriend? Honestly. 

[No, she's not afraid to admit, doesn't care who reads it. They're empathy lacking monsters as far as that goes for home.]

Not that that applies to all worlds, obviously, I'm not an idiot -- and was raised with better manners mind you. But I doubt that I'm alone in this. 

[Says the governess related to Death of all things -- but that's different. Death is supposed to be a killer, and she's also fairly sure he's capable of more empathy than most people would ever imagine. He spared her father for her after all.

But she's worried, all the same. Just because their worlds are round it doesn't mean it can be that different. It was an oddly isolating feeling when the things you knew to be true were turned upside down. Again.]