[When the video comes on, Will is sitting there and he looks absolutely pleased. Only, not really. It looks like he may have swallowed a lemon, and his brow furrows as he sits there. Oh, and there he goes talking.]

So. That's it then?

Has anyone noticed that nothing really changed. I may have not been here long but even I can tell nothing changed after that battle.

People died for this and nothing was solved. It's just like having to deal with spoiled brats who tell people to fight for them and then they don't deliver back home.

[He knows that point only too well, and he just scowls before just rubbing at his forehead and sighing.]

Right, but when do people ever listen?

[She is quiet, her disposition is frigid. It should be noted the woman who frequently wears a long, white druid robes is now spotting green robes. The color of an ovate; if Regina was asked, she would merely explain that they are her real robes, the true color of her rank in her faith. Nonetheless, Regina appears to be fine, if not leaving something on a make-shift altar while bowing her head in a prayer. She's not oblivious- it's Regina's way of stating she's okay. She just doesn't really feel the need to say any "thank yous" or "here I am".

She hides it so well -- Regina is more than just upset, she's very angry. Regina only does this because she cares about a few people.]

It needs more offerings, this simply won't do, will it?

[Of course, anyone who approaches her will have to use extreme caution.]

[There is little point to this being video as Mordred's hood conceals most of his face, though it is not clear if that is intentional or if the hood is just naturally many sizes too big for a child who is a size that would be considered quite small. More likely he's just unfamiliar with how to communicate via this...object...to begin with, but with a small grave frown set deeply on his mouth he shall try.]

I seek a woman named Regina.

[The corner of his lip falters and he pauses, wishing he had his magic, he could have called out to her in his own way, with his telepathy, instead of with this plea that left him open and dependent on the mercy of others.] 

Please tell me where she is. 

[He curls in on himself a little, revealing that he is tucked somewhere behind women's dresses, specifically Morgana's dresses, where they hang in her room, should you recognize the lady's wardrobe.] 

Please. 

[Kaworu comes to the screen with a kind and gentle smile.]

Hello. I'm looking for a piano or a violin. I'm not sure where I can find one; not to buy - I simply wish to play for a while.

[and now that is out of the way, he wishes to ask something else]

I do have another question. Are you happy?

[ hello Asgard! the feed will click on to Mike, who is semi-nonchalantly leaning on a certain motorbike that he received during the Milkening. while this isn't quite Mutt and it can't run (he's tried), keeping the hog in his room as a decorative piece for now is the way to go. it also makes him look cool, but I digress.

Mike himself has his usual friendly smile, but something about it does look a little worrysome. and when Mike Chilton is worried, something serious is going down. ]

Hey everyone. I dunno if the word is spreading around yet, but apparently some of us were chosen to keep a lead eye out for our districts while all of this fighting is going to happen. They chose me for Freya, so I sort of thought it'd be good for people to know who I am and all that. I can promise that you guys are in good hands.[ his smile brightens just a little; gotta keep a positive attitude about this, after all. ]  Still, I wouldn't mind having some people help me out with making sure the district is safe, either. If you think you're okay with patrolling and stuff like that, I'd love to have you on my team.

But listen; I know that we've got a pretty hefty army protecting us, but I know that some people might not be totally comfortable with self-defense, too. I promise it won't come to that, but I'd be happy to help anyone with training for some peace of mind. I'm good with hand-to-hand and staff combat, so just shout out if you want to do some sparring or get some lessons!


[ PRIVATE TO THE BURNERS ] 

This might not be Motorcity... but I think as far as we're concerned, this is our turf now. Are you guys in?

A | VIDEO, DAY 160

[ Alisa opens the feed with a face devoid of emotion. ]

Good afternoon.

All functions except user interface, data storage and retrieval are inaccessible at the moment. Cause of inaccessibility is currently unknown. Earlier attempted troubleshooting resulted in failure. May I request for a check-up?

Thank you.

B | ACTION, DAY 161

[ LOOKING FOR A JOB!!! Alisa is going from shop to shop, begging people to take her in while holding their "wanted" flyers. However, she's always causing trouble, such as accidentally freaking people out with her head, her head falling off, hitting equipment too strongly with her metal arms and legs... People will often find doors closing on Alisa quite literally. ]

I apologize, it will never happen again--

[ Bam. ]

C | VIDEO, DAY 161

[ Afraid of rejection, she looks a little meek when she asks this. ]

To whom must I speak to regarding the city's militia? I would like to assist in the upcoming war. I, too, can fight.

[The video feed clicks on showing off the room as the video swings back and forth. Hands shake at first as the unknown person paces back and forth the length of the room. A small laugh, which comes out in almost a bark of indignation can be heard.]

Right then…

Die of a bloody crossbow wound, and end up waking in this weird place. I thought you were supposed to go somewhere brilliant when you die.

[The camera rises up giving the network a glimpse at short shaggy brown hair before dropping away again. This time though, the camera swings just a little further to show off Will. His clothing is cut and stained with a little blood from where the crossbow made its fatal mark. Still, the annoyed young man paces back and forth.]

That lady…Was that even a lady at all? She could have very well sent me back to the dead with her appearance alone! I’d rather die all over again before seeing something like that another time or two.

If that’s what people here think is an appropriate greeting, then they must be a bit knackered in the head.

[Slumping down on the bed, he reaches over grabbing a hold of the letter as he scans over it again.]

All right! You’ve just been brought back from the dead Will, where do you go from here?

[Rubbing a hand over his face, the feed is closed off and down to voice as he takes in another sharp breath, his voice softer.]

I wonder what would Merlin think about all this?

Greetings, Asgard.

[His expression is pinched and withdrawn, quite a change from the easy going bloke most are likely accustomed to. Despite this, he continues addressing Asgard calmly. He has spent long enough over thinking things in his room since the Darkness subsided.]

I offer my condolences to those affected, and if there is any way I can be of help, even if you consider it insignificant, please do not hesitate to ask.

[The thought that people may request ridiculous or asinine things doesn’t even cross his mind. ]

In light of what has recently transpired, I wish to offer my services to those who would like to learn to protect themselves. I specialise in swordplay, though I can offer other means of defence as well. The Citadel, where I am also employed, can offer teachers with a great range of specialties, if you are looking for something in particular.

For those who think they do not have the means to afford lessons, please contact me. I am certain something can be arranged.

[He swallows before continuing, determinedly looking straight at the bracelet recording.]

I must also apologise for [He nearly falters, sickened by the possibilities of what could have happened while he was Taken. Of what those missing days meant, of promises he failed to uphold.] anything that I may have done in the past few days.

[There is a quiet click as he turns off the feed.]

[Arya has been fiddling with the bracelet, looking at all its settings, even trying to pry it apart, but with no success. As she addresses the network now, she looks a little frustrated, to say the least.]

There's a way, isn't there, of hiding your name from the network? There has to be. She wouldn't just leave, she wouldn't. She was going to free us, she told me so.

[She starts fiddling with the bracelet again, inadvertantly switching off the feed as she does so.]


[A couple of hours later, she's back. She looks tired and angry, but speaks in a much calmer tone than she did earlier, like she's given up.]

For those who knew her, the Khaleesi - Daenerys Targaryen - has left. Drogon, too.



[OOC: sorry I've been so inactive since I got back, hopefully this will kickstart my motivation.]

[The feed is only voice this time, betraying no emotions. Feel free to have noticed that he has holed up in Loki for the duration of the event and not been out of his room for more than work for a while before that.]

I am looking for musicians. More specifically, I have sheet music for flute, harp and guitar. There are also a few pieces that include fiddle or singing voice. Is anyone here interested in launching an ensemble? I'd rather hope to find ones trained well in their field, though that is not strictly necessary.

Gwenhwyfar, I have it now. Tell me when you would like to come over. [A harp is just way too heavy to carry it around town just to visit someone, and not really the instrument that should be dragged into the middle of a forest.]

I'm also looking for sword classes, now that I can afford them. I know there's the Citadel, but are there any other places or is that the only option?

[And then Bran's voice turns carefully composed and bland - it is clear that an effort is made to keep all emotions out of the words. He does not want to show sadness or fear, it would make him seem weak and an easy target. He learned early on that that is a very bad idea.]

Also, Will Stanton of house Odin left, in case that is of interest to anyone.

[As the video flickers on, you can see a lovely, pale woman, poking at the screen as if she's trying to get the thing to work and her eyes widen when she realizes that the device is working. Despite the flush to her cheeks, her expression turns more diplomatic a moment later.] I am Princess Mithian of Nemeth and I would like to speak with whoever has taken me as their prisoner. You have taken my escorts and left me with no defenses, the least you can do is let me seek counsel with you.

[She sounds firm, her voice does not waver, though she is uneasy. It's clear she does not believe what she's been told by creepy!maid lady.] I am expected home. There will be a search party sent out, if I do not return.

[He's not comfortable with speaking to the strange screen the bracelet is capable of making appear.

But this option allows for something similar enough to a typewriter that he can function reasonably well with it.]

I am still learning my way around this place, and I should be grateful for assistance.

I would like to know what sort of work there is, for I am not a man keen on being idle. I don't have many skills as a labourer, however, but I served in Her Majesty's Army for nearly twenty years. Soldier by profession, hunter by hobby. A good shot, but I doubt there is much in that line of work here. Still, I should be glad to give most work a try, particularly for a salary.

In addition, I suppose there is nowhere to hunt here. Is there a place where, once I have the necessary funds, I may purchase a firearm of some sort? I should not like to fall out of practice, and I would be much more comfortable, I admit, knowing I've at least a revolver at the ready. Old habits, you understand.

Thank you kindly for any assistance you can provide and your time, whether or not assistance can be provided.

- Col S. Moran

[While Uther holds his back straight and chin held high - because he is king and whatever he can keep of that he'll take - he looks fairly worse for wear with slight bags under his eyes and obvious exhaustion despite his posture. It's been rough ever since he came here, but even more so recently, and sleep and rest is are very elusive things.

But despite how tired he is, he's relied on Arthur's support for too long and, honestly, he's not sure he can convince himself he even deserves that loyalty so much anymore. That's why he's addressing the network.

He almost feels a little awkward, but he doesn't show it.]

How does one go about.. finding a job?

[It's probably less about it being a new world so how should he know how it works and more about him not having had to look for one, ever.]

((OOC: I'm going to go on a slowatus from tomorrow until the 9th August oops so this isn't really great timing, but waiting would have been OOC of him so at least I can get in a day of proper tagging. Do please bear with me orz.))

[Having been here a couple of weeks now, Arya looks very different from the first time she addressed the network. She's cleaned up considerably from when she arrived, covered in the mud and blood of Harrenhal, an urchin shivering in a forgotten gray alleyway. She has gained a few bruises since then, particularly on her arms and legs, most of them brown and fading now, but there's one purpling welt on her forearm that she can't help poking at. She doesn't seem too bothered by the bruises, though. While she's arranged her hair in a slightly more feminine way, she's still wearing boys clothes; looser, more comfortable, easier to fight and tumble around in.]


Action

[Those of you passing through the Thor district may chance upon Arya sometime in the morning, looking a little dissatisfied and disappointed in herself. Maya's set her a task, but she's finding it a very difficult one to complete.]

No good. Maybe I just haven't found the right place yet, but...


Video

[It's late afternoon when she addresses the network. Her face still looks troubled.]

What sort of place do you go to, when you need to be alone and think?

[A pause. She's not sure whether to say the next part or not. The truth is, there's a lot that's happened to her over the last few months, ever since they left Winterfell, really. And she's just had to keep going through it all. To have to stop and examine herself now, to meditate and find the inner Arya, would mean facing it all, rather than just adding names to a list of people she'll one day give their retribution. It would mean grieving for Ned, something she's not had the space to do yet. And the idea is scaring her. Maybe not being able to find a place to follow Maya's instruction to her successfully is just a front for that.

She takes a deep breath, but the words won't come. She's just eleven years old, after all, how does she even try and process all of this?]

Robb, can you come and see me, please? I...

[She feels herself blinking back tears and, embarrassed, quickly shuts off the feed.]

[ The view is that of a sky, all blue with an occasional cloud. It is silent and you might think that it is an accidental broadcast.

Until the dragon.

The dragon flies through the sky, a dark shape growing more distinct as it draws closer to land onto the windowpane of the welcome hall of Sigyn. Up close one can see the dragon's scales are black as coal and his eyes are the deepest of red.

As the image moves, Daenerys can be seen, leaned against the windowpane, head rested on her elbow. She offers a piece of roasted meat to the dragon who snatches it happily. ]

I wonder what it is that you have seen. Are these skies familiar to you, or are they as foreign as this city? All realms cannot share one sky, I reckon.

[ a pensive hum before she addresses her audience. ]

My people called it shierak qiya, a bleeding star. It was seen during the day as well as the night. Has it showed itself here? It is as red as Drogon's eyes.

[ the feed closes as she presses a finger alone the dragon's spine. ]