[Riley pops on the screen while she takes a break from all the scavenging she's been going. She's got herself quite a collection going but why not take a breather? Besides, she has something she needs to address since everyone is down and, well, that just sucks.

So here she is, providing a distraction.]

Alright, I've been having a thought. I've seen a lot of girls in old magazines from back home and something always got to me whenever I looked at them. I mean, sure the makeup and clothes are weird because you can't do shit in most of them but here's the thing that really gets to me.

Was there some sort of cosmic bullshit that caused women to be completely hairless? Well, aside from super fabulous hair. And I mean hairless all over because I'm so not going to deny that I've seen the pornos floating about.

[Hey, she's a curious person, okay.]

Girls and women I've seen in my time have all that hair. Nothing wrong with it. It's hair, right?

[She shrugs and drinks some water from a bottle she has.]

Alright, are women hairless like that where you're from? Is this some weird as genetic thing no one ever told me about?

[Yeah. She has no concept of girls shaving.

So how's that for a distraction, Asgard? Who wants to be the first to explain shaving to her?]

So, um. This is weird.

[Deep thoughts. And things everyone most likely knows by now. That's not why she's here, broadcasting herself to the city, but she can't quite keep it from leaving the tip of her tongue.]

I'm Bliss. I'm from Texas. I'm a senior in High School, I do beauty pageants for my mom, I do Roller Derby behind her back - there's this guy I really like, and I'm pretty sure he likes me too - boring, right? I'm really, really boring. I hear about wars on the news, and I see the soldiers around when they're on leave, but... I really think I was the wrong choice here.

[She glances down at her hands, running the pad of her thumb over the opposite thumbnail. This is coming out all wrong.]

Not like I don't wanna help. I do. Apparently I'm also really strong here, so there's probably something I can do. I'm just a bit - [Scared.] - lost, I guess. Other than helping with all the flood damage, I dunno where to start? I guess that's what I'm trying to say. But meeting people's as good a start as any, so - hi.

[With a nervous, fluttery laugh, she leaves her broadcast at that. Not a great first impression, but not a disaster either.]

Citizens—

[ The man (it's only obviously a man from the voice - all features are borderline feminine, and it seems God made a pretty decent mistake when creating this creature) on the feed can only be described as disgruntled - tired eyes and a firmly set jaw, the hints of both annoyance and confusion resting in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The angle cuts off most his torso, but from what's shown there's the very clear stain of blood on his white shirt. ]

I come to you with arms spread, head up-tilted towards the heavens - or what rises above the heavens, I'm inclined to believe. The story this "Loki" has told me is, ultimately, difficult to believe but—

[ He sighs, like this is truly a try against his patience, shaking his head while golden locks frame his face. ]

But what choice is there, I will be told. I've come to rest and I find myself tangled in yet another war, in another place, in a world I care little about. If I do not fight, will I be sent back to the world I know, to rot beneath the dirt? Would God permit me this mercy? [ He clucks his tongue, cruelly, shaking his head with the way the words roll deliberately off his tongue. ] God, mercy.

[ He hears chants of you were wrong, you were entirely and completely wrong ringing freely in his ears, and this moment of self-loathing is brought on solely by the thought that Enjolras led his friends, his brothers, all to an early grave - and yet, where are they? When he needs them most, he's been kept from them. ]

It seems, even despite the evil that plagues, there is still no need for Lucifer, no need of Michael, for their names mean none in the light of this world. This after life — ha! To think of how we worship, led astray, and the glory of His kingdom is only another life anew. The cold grave I must have been buried in would be warmer, would it not?

[ He pauses, thinking again. This is not a speech led by his usual passionate retorts and screams - it's instead a reflection of his utter confusion, how truly lost he finds himself, and from that, his annoyance at himself. ]

Then, I am named Enjolras. It's better than the number that would wait below were I to go back, if nothing else.