[The feed starts up to Maya... holding up what appears to be a really cute and cartoony doodle passingly resembling Dist]

[She looks Very Serious (this is gonna end well)]

Guys...This is important! This little guy [says the five foot nothing shrimp] is missing! He needs his walkies and three meals a day, and he likes to sit in the snow and whine for 'Jade', who I guess he used to follow around! If we don't find him soon, he might freeze or starve to death, so let me know if you've seen him!

Um, his name is Dist, but he likes to answer to Rose too [she shrugs and makes ‘weirdo’ motions] and sometimes he gets yappy, so just compliment him and he'll probably settle down. It's okay to muzzle him, I don't think he bites... but just let me or Jaime know if you've seen him, okay? He--

[And cue Jaime shuffling on into the room, a ratty old paperback tucked underneath one arm. He looks over at Maya quizzically before coming to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder at her picture. Slowly, as if he may not like the answer, he asks:] Maya? What are you doing?

[Maya regards Jaime Very Seriously] He's missing! I was going to put up pictures on milk cartons... but I couldn't find any.

[Jaime nods, looking unsurprised to hear his previous suspicions confirmed, then plucks the picture out of her hands.] He's a person, not a dog. You don't muzzle people. [Okay, you might have wanted to muzzle Dist, but his point stands. He addresses the feed now.] Don't bother with the search party - he's gone back home.

[Same difference! ] Huh? How do you know?

His name's off the network. I checked. Which is what you should do before trying to organize a search party. [He's not looking at the feed anymore, distracted as he is by Maya's drawing.] Hey, this isn't bad.

Thanks! Wait… so he went home after all? You’re sure? [She looks Deep in Thought About This… Almost like she’s about to say something profound...]

[Jaime looks a little curious as to where she’s going with this, but he gives her a one word reply anyhow.] Yup.

[So about that something profound] …Let’s go raid his room!

[Jaime looks momentarily pained, opens his mouth, then shuts it again.] Clean out his room,[he mutters as he reaches to turn off the feed, having evidently given up on impressing this fact to Maya.] It's called cleaning out his room.

[He’s totally going to raid Dist’s room with her. He just phrases it a little more politely.]

[OOC: Blue is Jaime and purple is Maya!]

[There are some things you can't run from. For Peter, he's been trying to run, but things keep coming up, keep reminding him. He went a good month of pretending that he was just a normal guy who made it out of his world alive. It was a good lie. Even for those people who knew him as Spider-Man, no one needed to know that his final moments in his life were spent saving Aunt May. They didn't need to know that he had given his all and that he was actually happy with what he managed.

But there's dying. And then there's finding out you aren't dead. There's finding out that you have a whole new life, and that somewhere, in another dimension, a "you" managed to grow up. Sue knew him. Bucky knew him. Even that grumpy Nathan guy knew a Spider-Man. And for all that, he's been trying to make it less obvious that he's surprised that he grew up. It's been hard, and he knows it'll continue.

It has to, after all. With great power and all that, and this world has bigger problems than his.

But still, he sets out to ask this question, because he knows it's better to ask now than later. He had to be careful about what thing he said to Charlie that one day. When he phrases his question, he rereads it a couple times, taking out anything that sounds too much like him. The last thing Peter needs is someone tracing it back to him.

He's not ready for those conversations.]

I've got a question, but first, please don't try to trace this back to me. If you've already done that and broken my encryption, let's just pretend you didn't. [Also, you're a jerk, but he had to cut that part out. Too ... him.]

What happens if you died before you came here? What's left for me after this all ends? Before you ask, yeah, I definitely died.

I just thought I'd ask.

[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) )

[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: )

A coupla days ago, someone tried to blame a missing grenade on a cat playing with it like a ball of yarn. I don't think I'm too far off questioning their sanity, am I?

[The answer is 'no'. He's more or less posting this to be a troll. He thinks by now everyone knows where that missing grenade is... or where it was used if it happened to be used.]

[There are several plus sides to being roommates with someone you're running about Los Angeles with each and every day.

One plus side is which when one leaves their communications device out in the open whilst you're doing something else - that gives your roommate the authority to use it responsibly, and by responsibly, i mean not at all.

This may earn Travis the consistent threat of being shot until he's dead, but that's small potatoes. TIME TO GO TO WORK.]

So, is there any place a man can go to unwind and pretend they're not hung up over their ex-wife and that their only committed relationship is with a bottle of Germ-X?


[A few minutes later, a second post goes up, this time with the voice function. There's a faint cry of:] Travis!

[And then he clears his throat, addressing the network.] This is Wes Mitchell. And I'm not hung up over my ex-wife. Or that other thing.

I apologize. My partner took my tablet. He's like a five year-old.

Man, do you even listen to yourself? You're so hellbent on making things are 110% germ-free that I'm pretty sure Alex left you because you cheated on her with the sanitizer!

( cut for length )

[It's just Raiden's voice at first, low and rusty.]

....Some of you've probably seen those things by now. They aren't human.

Don't even seem to be alive.

[There's a blip then a shuffle and a sigh followed by a video. It shows an AR display of the Agricultural Wing, with Necromorphs visibly shuffling around behind walls and wires. They don't read as having any pulse or brain activity, but there seems to be something in them that is compelling them to move.]

Anyone got any ideas on what's going on here?

[OOC: For an idea on what is readable from Raiden's video, look here. He can't quite explain his readings, but people with a more scientific background might be able to.]

( THE SETTING: the setting isn't exciting. I mean, it's the clinic and it looks extremely clean and well organised, but that's probably more a relief to any observers than exciting. Donny is himself, dressed in his scrubs, sleeves of the long shirt he wears underneath rolled up so that the tattoos and metal bands around his forearms are visible. He'd look sort of badass if he didn't also look a little bit green.

Fortunately he is surrounded by attractive people and first aid kits! YEAH. AWESOME. Ella is on his right, Flora as his left, although they're positioned on one side of the camera. Almost like they are keeping room for something. )

Um, h-hey. I'm-- I'm Donny, I um, I help in the-- the c-clinic? With-- supplies, and coordinating uh, stuff. ( There's a long pause, and he glances to Flora, fumbling with his words for a second before he can put something together. ) Um, just-- we just wanted to announce that we have um, m-made first aid k-kits for all the Transports. I think-- some of you p-picked them up at the m-meeting? 

( he's making a conscious effort not to fidget, but he looks so uncomfortable, and there's a reason he doesn't... do video posts. This time he's chewing his lip, glancing at Ella for a second before his gaze drops and his fingers curl towards his palms. )

If you haven't g-got one yet, if you c-could um, please come by the c-clinic. It'd b-be-- be good to get um, everyone checked off the list b-before the day n-new Transports arrive. And-- yep.

( Oh what's that? Donny seems to look horrified for a second, before Stephanie steps on camera, holding a first aid kit and modelling its contents the way you might see a car or a fridge or another fantastic prize modelled on a quiz show. Stephanie, please.

She even has a suitable 'game show model' smile, though it turns into a sheepish grin about a third of the way into her little demonstration.

With that ruined, she steps up so she's closer to the camera, putting an arm around Donny's shoulders as she addresses their audience. Donny would like the ground to swallow him up and it shows. ]

Sorry, they dared me to do it. [No they didn't.] Hey, everyone, I'm Steph, and I'm here to help you learn how to use these handy little things, if you'd like. Well, there are a few other people who can teach you as well, but I'm the cutest.

[Donny is looking horrified still (THIS IS A SERIOUS ANNOUNCEMENT), but Steph is all smiles.]

Anyway, most of this stuff is pretty simple, but if you'd like to learn your way around basic first aid, there are some classes you can sign up for, either by replying here, or coming down to the clinic whenever you're free. [a beat, to let that sink in, then:] That's it from me, have a good one, guys.

[And with a little salute, and a pat to Donny's arm, she moves off screen. There's sort of... trepidation and concern in how he looks to the others, now, waiting for them to chip in. ]

Ella is trying to smile next to Donny. She’s been slightly under the weather -a lot, actually- but hearing him make an effort and kind off flail at it does wonders for her mood. Maybe she’s a bit of a bad friend. Sighing, she takes a step forth as she holds a kit up. ]

It’s free, of course, and we will replenish it whenever you need. It has a bunch of useful stuff, both for treating whatever little nuisance you might have and prevent something serious to get even more serious before you can get help. [ A beat. ] And of course, you should totally come to the Infirmary if you really need to. Having a kit will solve some problems, but here’s where we make sure you get better.

[ She glances at Flora. While Ella can talk for hours, this is a joint effort, so she’ll bite her tongue. For now. ] [She appreciates the self-restraint, Ella. Donny looks at her and she flashes him a warm and encouraging smile. She’s really proud of him for doing this and taking initiative. When Stephanie makes her display, Flora tries to look stern, at least for Donny’s sake, but it’s clear she’s trying very hard not to laugh. She manages it. Somehow. Barely. Boy, does she ever love working here, sometimes. By the time it’s her turn to speak, though, she smoothly takes her cue and is quite composed, if still smiling.]

If for some reason you’re unable to pick up a kit, arrangements can be made to have them delivered to you. We’re here to help, so just let us know, and we’ll do our best to accommodate you.

( Thanks, ladies. BUT BEFORE THEY WRAP THIS UP, Donny kind of shakes himself out of his state of I HATE PUBLIC SPEAKING to add, )

We're-- we're t-trying to uh, make sure we have all our b-bases covered for um, Transports that aren't human. C-cause-- I guess m-most of our knowledge and equipment is human... human f-focused. And-- yeah, any help p-preparing would be great. We have some other staff who aren't human, if you'd uh, f-feel-- feel m-more comfortable talking to them. Galadriel and-- there's also blood d-donations and-- Yeah. You c-can um, always ask us for m-more details and stuff. Thank you.

( Oh God can they turn off the feed now please turn off the feed-- thank God, Flora bounds forward and turns off the device. )


( OOC: Responses will come from Donny and various other clinic folks!
You also don't have to play out your character receiving a first aid kit! These losers will try to make sure every transport has one ASAP, delivering if they must. THEY WILL HUNT YOU DOWN TO GIVE YOU YOUR FIRST AID KIT. But, you know. Politely. )

[Gently:] Good morning, Exsilium.

[It almost sounds like a reminder.

Saul's looking just as businesslike as he did in his last network post, this time broadcasting from the Observatory. Elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, he leans in and addresses the camera with an expression that's a little too somber to pass for neutral:]

As of last night, Medusa's gone home.

[He hopes that's where she's gone, anyway. He's never sure what happens to people after they disappear.

After a moment, the look on his face softens.]

For the time being, I've assumed the role of Director of the Department of Initiative-Transport Relations. Medusa and I started this together back in May, when its purpose was to foster trust between us and the Initiative by way of hiring liaisons to make announcements on the Initiative's behalf. Friendly faces, right?

But it's clear to me now that there's no use for that in our current predicament, so the Department's getting a bit of a makeover.

( First of all... )

[There's a pause, then, as he runs a hand through his hair to move onto other business.]

( As far as supply runs are concerned... )

[And the feed cuts.]

[Oh look, everyone. It's your favorite person, here to screech at you again. He's looking a little disheveled- and there are rings around his eyes like someone was crying and didn't use waterproof mascara oops.]

THESE FOOLS IN THIS INITIATIVE CLAIM THEY CANNOT HELP ME! JADE IS GONE, I ONLY ASKED HE BE RETURNED AT ONCE!!!!!!!

I DEMAND THE PARTS TO CREATE A MACHINE! IF JADE CANNOT BE RETURNED TO ME, I WILL REPLICATE HIM!!!!

YOU'LL ALL FINALLY SEE THE TRUE DEPTH OF MY GENIUS!

( 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.

[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: )

- Yeahyeah, ya got it but til then this'll do.

[The video feed kicks in and sets to record mid-message. The closer of the two men turns to the screen, fixing the camera with an irritable look.]

( A brief Initiative transmission )



[For those who do report, the transport pad sits, powered down at the moment, with several of the access panels behind the platform are opened or removed entirely. Vennett sits in a folding chair in front of one of the computer displays. At his feet is a box of tools, and in hand is a strange black device. He doesn't look all that pleased to see you.

Lowell sits at a computer desk in the same room, ready to get the right calculations of the Transports as they step onto the Transport Pad. And while he isn’t really enthused at the idea of being here, he’s also a lot less miserable looking than Vennett. Maybe that makes him more approachable? Good luck.]



((OOC: NOTE: This is an intro for two of the new NPC characters. Come meet them! Handwaving having either done the scan or declined offscreen is totally fine. THIS IS NOT A MANDATORY EVENT.))

[ And here appears the face of an elf, one with short and dark hair scattered with braids, tattoos swirling across her face and around her large, almost insect-like green eyes. Her smile is awkward, only half there as aware as she is that it's a poor time to smile. ]

Hello there. This is Merrill again, um. I suppose it has been some time, but then I haven't had anything worth saying. And then I did, perhaps, but it didn't seem a good time. Is it ever a good time? Well, near half a million people have been destroyed despite our best efforts. That doesn't seem like a good time.

I am sorry. Especially to those who were from there. So sorry.

But I cannot put off this question any longer. My curiosity has gotten the best of me, and maybe a distraction would not be out of place for a short amount of time. [ She clears her throat and taps a fingertip to her lower lip, near pouting. ] I suppose a joke or story would be better in that case, but there I go again with my poor sense of timing.

In any case, does anyone here know of the Chimera Project? [ The petite elf holds up a small booklet, or thick leaflet, however you choose to see it. The title is clear as day. It's stained with something, though... ] I regret to say that...ale spilled all over it in the drastic move, sorry about the appearance. But I would like to hear if any Transports or even Initiative employees know of this.

( private; Fenris )

[ ooc; Sorry I might be slow on tagging back some threads until I hear more about the pamphlet thingy. Will get to them ASAP! ]

[He has nothing he wants to say about the fate of Exsilium over the network. Sure, he definitely has a lot of thoughts and feelings about the whole subject, but it really wasn't like him to share those with people. And so when his voice comes on over the usual alias of "Kaneis Major", he gets straight to the point]

Hey. If anyone's in need of a distraction, I need training.

You see, I don't know how much word's spread, but it sounds like the United Earth found a way to copy the abilities of the people they nabbed. Don't know the details of it, buuut it sure is gonna make facing them an even bigger pain.

So anyway, because of that I'd like to learn some new stuff so I can have some tricks up my sleeves. New weapons, abilities, strategies- I'll take whatever I can get. Well, except swordsmanship. I know that one already. But anything else I'd at least...hear them out!

Oh yeah- if you teach me I'm a pretty fast learner, and I'm sure I can figure out a way to compensate you somehow if you're looking for that.

So...yeah. Thanks, I guess!

[ Backdated to August SEPTEMBER (I can months) 4th / Visible to everyone but Rosette and Mary ]

[Chrono had very seriously considered doing this through video or audio, but in the end, he opts for the more cowardly way—he's less likely to give himself away when voices and faces aren't involved. So he hides behind the benefits of emotionless text, and pretends it's a question of curiosity and not terrible selfishness.]

I've heard talk about death not existing here. Or, at least, that the Initiative can bring people back to life. But so far, it's all just been talk.

I need to know for sure. Is there anyone here who's died and been brought back, or knows someone who has? I know something like this might be unpleasant to talk about. [Understatement, hah...] But, if you could... I'd really like to speak with you.

It's important.

Um. So does anyone have experience writing scripts? Or an interest in theater? Because I think I could use a few pointers...

[There's a slight pause before Asbel clarifies, and a muffled thump that might be a book closing.]

It's for the upcoming talent competition. The one at the end of the month? Some of us were thinking about putting a short play together for it.

( [Action: Hold Training Area | Also Open] )

[OOC Note: CR, if they wish, are welcome to assume that Asbel has already mentioned the talent competition to them and proposed the idea of putting together a group performance of some kind.]

We've got quite the revolving door around here, which means we don't always know who we've got, or what kind of special talents they have.

Right now, I've got a particular interest in telepathic abilities. People who can get in and out of a mind, without having to crack open a skull. I think there's a job you can do for me.

It's important. I understand if you feel hesitant outlying your abilities for everyone. You can comment anonymously, until you know what I need- and I'll be encrypting these.


[Encryption: Han Solo;]

Do me a favour. Keep an eye on this.


[ooc: all conversations as promised will be immediately individually encrypted, with an unnoticeable third party access]

[The voice on the other side of the tablet is young and vaguely male, and a little hesitant. Despite being here for months, this is is the first time he's actually tried posting to the network himself, and addressing a sizable, unseen audience, live, is somehow daunting. . . But he knows he needs to find someone, sooner rather than later, so:]

Er. Good afternoon! I'm wondering... if there is anyone here who is skilled with a sword, who would be willing to help train a beginner? I've a few months' practice already. And I don't require formal lessons, but I would appreciate a sparring partner. [ a pause, he clears his throat ]

But, if preferred, I could provide compensation for lessons...

[Though he'd rather not, it seems only prudent to offer. —And oh, right:]

Right, also, my sword is— a bit broad. And tall. And held with one hand? I don't know if that matters!

[He knows for a fact there are talented swordsmen here. One in particular comes to mind immediately, but he's not going to just ask him. And there's one or two others he could possibly wheedle lessons out of, but isn't it best to cast a wide net?

He's about to end the feed there, when he remembers one last thing: ]

And if it's all right, I have a question for those who use one of the Initiative's sentient weapons. ...How long did you train with it before it began to 'evolve'? Were the changes very drastic?

Thank you very much!

[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.

[Filtered from Seles]

[A rare video feed from Kaneis comes on, partly because one of his roommates had to turn on the tablet. It becomes quickly apparently why- it seems his hands and locks of his hair are tangled up with strips of brightly colored leopard print duct tape. Someone attempted to do home repairs when they knew absolutely nothing about home repair. The background shows one giant hole in the wall about six inches in diameter, just to give you an idea. Allen is next to him, trying to get some of the duct tape off]

Okay okay- I'll ask! Just get me outta this stuff!

[He gives a huff and looks at the camera. He looks rather disgruntled]

Say, does anyone out there know where a person can get a couch? Ours kinda...got wrecked the other day and we can't fix it.

Oh and, stuff to seal up holes in the wall? That'd be good too.

Thanks in- [And then he YELLS "OW" as Allen his roommate pulls a piece out of his hair not so gently]

ALLEN! THAT WAS MY HAIR!

[Transmission end!]

[See Axel. See Axel looking puzzled. See Axel looking puzzled with a very small cat sitting neatly on his shoulder, mesmerized by this strange device in Axel's hands.]

So this happened. [He shrugs the shoulder that is not a cat perch.] I was near the ruins and... Well, she followed me home, you might say. As in she staged a hostile takeover of my hoodie pocket.

[He looks a little uncomfortable. Watch out, Axel, your squishy side might be showing.]

I think she's still too small to take care of herself, you know? So... [Fidget fidget. The little cat blinks at the screen, then turns to look at Axel and impulsively bonks her head against his jaw. Great. Cat, you're not helping that squishy side showing thing at all.] I've never had a cat before.

[Translation: HALP?]

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

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

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

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

Those that may hail from my world please report in.

Thank you.

[ The video feed switches on to show a large number of stuffed animals lined up neatly across Sophie's bed. A stuffed rabbit sits on top of the pillow, further away from the rest. Those who were around during for Separation Awareness Day in February may recognize that these plushies came from the festival in February. Sophie can't be seen on screen, but she can be heard speaking. There might even be a quick glimpse of her long pigtails swaying around. ]

When my best friend Lara was sick, she couldn't get out of bed. I didn't want her to feel lonely when I left her house, so I brought her lots and lots of dolls. That way, she'd never feel lonely again. It made her really happy.

I was thinking... since I have lots of dolls left over from the festival a few months ago, I want to give them away to people who need the company or something to cheer them up.

Kaneis already took the dragon, Allen has the chicken, and I have the rabbit. Hmm. Kaneis named his Flarey, I think. [ ...Or was it Flamey? ] Allen and I named our dolls in memory of Tiger Festival. [ Their pet rabbit, Tiger Festival. Or more like only Sophie herself decided on that name. ]

So, if anyone wants one, come to Unit 103. If you can't come, let me know. I'll bring the dolls to you.

[ And finally, Sophie shows herself on screen, waving goodbye and ends the feed. ]

[Greetings, Exsilium. It's Sue Richards, in her white and black Fantastic Four costume, sitting in the DITR offices. She looks tense, but composed. Guess who drew the short straw on responding to this whole mess?]

Hello. I'm Susan Richards, of the Department of Initiative-Transport Relations.

[She's good at reading from a teleprompter, but this is obviously not extemporaneous.]

On behalf of the Initiative, we would first like to extend our condolences and apologies to those affected by yesterday's events--

[Sue stops, and her expression darkens.]

--No. You know what? I'm not reading this. I'm not making excuses for them.

[Oops. Sue just went off-script, and her spokesperson persona drops in favor of what she's really feeling, a simmering, controlled anger.

There's a strangled noise of outrage offscreen from Saul, but it's rapidly cut off.]

Thank you, Medusa.

Not at all, Susan.

[Sue takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and addresses the camera again. This is no longer someone playing the role of a bureaucratic functionary. This is the woman who has stood against gods and won.]

( tl;dr )

[OOC: Pink is Medusa. Medusa and Saul appear courtesy of Ammay and Heather. I'll hit up all the replies, but your comment might also get answered by any member of the DITR. Even Saul after Medusa lets him go.]

[ It's a little earlier in the afternoon than timestamps might suggestion, but it's not exactly full light out at this time in the day, Suzaku's standing out on the road from the main part of the city to the northern section of it. He hasn't gotten far though since there's clearly the city behind him as he stands there looking down at his tablet, umbrella over his head to keep it dry. ]

Does anyone know how long it would take to--

[ He's cut off by a loud caw as one of those massive crows that occasional make an appearance flies in and lands in the middle of street. Anyone watching the video however is just going to get a nice view of the top of his umbrella as Suzaku drops his hand slightly to stare at the bird that just showed up.

Now here? Here is the fun part, even though he's the only one looking at the thing right now other people will definitely hear it as it starts singing--

"Sound the horn and call the cry,/ How Many of Them Can We Make Die!"

The bird continues its charming little tune and Suzaku's let his arm drop down fully now so there's a great upside down video of the bird singing it's heart out here.

And suddenly somewhere around the lines "Send These Bastards Back to Hell" the song takes a very drastic turn to something completely different.

Well then... There's a good fifteen seconds of this before Suzaku lifts the tablet up again blinking rapidly a few times before looking back down at it. The bird is still going on in the background but he's speaking louder now to talk over it. ]

How long would it take to get to the northern section of the city by foot?

[No video. Getting to be a habit with him these days, but really... who wants to see him looking like he does right now? Thank him later. If he sounded bad before, he sounds much worse now. The way someone would sound when they've spent a week vomiting. That's why he keeps the message relatively short and sweet.]

I tested the, um... the verstatsi. The U.E.'s drug.

In case the obvious needed stating: don't try it.

Full report coming once I can get my ass outta bed, but I can tell you it's about half-opiate, half-synthetic. The comedown's a total bitch and I ain't just talking like regular use. I mean like one shot and you're gonna need another fix in a few hours unless you like spending the next few days worshiping the porcelain god. Seriously, I'm a professional and this stuff... is bad. I don't think we got a lotta samples around here but take my word for it and don't mess around with it. I done H. This is worse than H. Way worse.

So that's your little P.S.A. and don't roll your eyes 'cause this ain't some D.A.R.E. bullshit, yo. I'm serious.

[Emil still has a lot of doubts about putting himself out there to people he has little business getting involved with and just slightly fewer doubts about the device he's supposed to use, but after a startling run-in with some familiar faces he'd rather not think about again he's a little desperate for people who don't dredge up memories of the worst times of his life. Not to mention, he's still in need of information. So despite how technology tends to bewilder him, Emil sits down and plays with the device and reads instructions until he manages to set up a proper feed. The camera is a little off center and the angle is awkward, but hey - it works.]

Hi, everyone. My name is Emil Castagnier, and I need answers to some questions. First, does anybody recognize the names of Sylvarant or Tethe'alla? Because if so, we come from the same world.

[He's not sure if he should add the next part, but figures it's worth a look.]

Derris-Kharlan, too. I know there are some people from Sylvarant and Tethe'alla here, but I don't know how many.

And second...does anybody know more about the time travel that's done here, and the influences it has on this world? If anyone has more information about the weapons we're given here, I'd like that as well.