[Welcome to Jon's face. It's not a particularly happy face. In fact, it looks pretty sour at the moment. He really hates having to use the bracelet, but he has a very important announcement to make.]

This is a message to the gods that have stolen us and brought us here.

[He has no actual knowledge of who the gods are or if they even care about their charges, but as they seem to have more of a hand in the affairs of others than his own gods, he'll see if a direct approach works.]

During the... incident which had your blasted magic working ill against those you gave it to, my brother wound up losing his hand. Due to your ineptitude and this unwanted sorcery, he has a stump where a perfectly fine hand was before. What sort of gods give people powers they don't ask for? It's bad enough you've brought children here, but you seem not to care about the ill effects of your war on those that are hale enough here to fight it.

[The sour look is directed more intensely at the screen now.]

I insist you fix it. I've gone to your temples and asked for this, but as it's seemed to fall on deaf ears, perhaps you need it shouted in your face.

Fix my brother or you'll have me to deal with and Asgard's gods will join him in missing body parts.

[Caw caw, motherfucker.]

[ The backdrop is only the wall of her room in House Hel and in place of a missing crown her hair is braided back from her face. ]

I am Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen. I traveled with many of you to the front at Alfheim, though this world remembers my face from a time now lost to me. If we once had dealings in the past I would speak with you of them.

[ Better than bumping into each and every person one at a time, as she's been doing for over a week now. A beat, and she continues. ]

Among you are men and women that claim the Seven Kingdoms their home, to whom my family name and titles are more familiar. Whether you hail from Westeros or the Free Cities and beyond - I make only two simple requests. [ Many of them have already come forward, but there is at least one false name that doesn't match up and one Kingslayer that hasn't shown his face. ] To friends, I ask that you tell me of your time in Asgard. [ Her back and shoulders remain straight, her gaze hardening just a fraction. ] To all others, [ oathbreakers and pretenders alike ] convince me that our cause in this world is truly a common one.

[ And that no blood needs to be spilled on these foreign streets. Their feuds can resume back home where they can be settled and not forgotten.

Or just stay out of her way. Khaleesi out. ]

[ There isn't much to see in the beginning. A few stray chestnut curls, the purple bodice of a dress that was probably once quite glamorous, but is now stained and dusty. This technology is all new to Aurora, and it's a minute or two before she manages to center the thing on her face. Her eyes are ringed by dark shadows that don't so much hint at her lack of sleep as they do blatantly advertise it, and her mouth is set in a thin line ]

I'll admit, the furnishings are much nicer than the last time, but a captive is a captive no matter the decor. You stand to gain very little from my presence here, but I'm sure you've already realized that

[ Because no matter what that letter says, or what she's been told, aurora is still convinced she knows exactly who's responsible for this ]

Your servant performed her role admirably. Tell me, did you pluck her heart out as easily as all the others?

[ There may be just a hint of bitternesss in her voice (Ok, more than a hint) but she can't really be blamed for that ]

In any case, I find it difficult to believe anything she said. If there's a way to bring me here, and without even the slightest warning, then surely you can send me home the same way.

Okay, I'm all for Norse mythology and stuff, but really? This isn't LARPing gone wrong or something, is it?

[Because that would suck. Also she'd kill Alice for letting her get anywhere near it. Or if this is a joke. Because then she'll resurrect the girl and kill her again. Vampire vs human status notwithstanding.]
_____

[[ EDIT later on in the day. ]]
Since a lot of people don't know what LARPing is, it's an Acronym.

Live
Action
Role
Play.

[He tries to filter, but he hasn't exactly had the time to learn how to properly filter. So, this post just comes onto the network like normal. Will is sitting down on a bed staring hard at first, before he finally speaks.]

I've been thinking about this a lot. What makes people strong? Is it being able to defend themselves? Or is it being able to defend others?

[He sighs and rubs the back of his neck.]

I'm not the strongest person, but I guess I've never really tried to be all that strong. So, I was wondering if there's anyone out there wants to help me train with a sword and someone else with my magic.

Even if I can't go home, that doesn't mean others shouldn't be able to eventually.

[He rubs at his forehead.]

I guess what I'm saying is, I want to help so I need to get stronger.

[The video comes on, and Finnick is reclining back on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a large bowl filled with sugar cubes in his lap. His finger fiddle with one of the cubes, rolling it back and forth between his thumb and pointer finger. A small grin spreads on his lips.]

I'm not that easy to get rid of. Did you think I was gone forever?

[He gives a cheeky little smile as he winks at the camera, popping a sugar cube into his mouth with a small crunch.]

So I guess there are lots of new people since I've been away, maybe someone would like to teach me how to cook? Can't let the girls do it all the time after all.

[He holds up a sugar cube, and closes one eye as if appraising the sugar cube before he tosses it in his mouth.]

So who is still here, and who went home? Anything interesting? Let me know. I'm always up for making new friends and trading information.

[ boredom. that's what greets the feed. but it doesn't last. boredom is soon replaced by a lazy smile. there's little that's pleasant about it though. it's never pleasant having a lion bare its fangs ]

Your letter explains very little about why I'm actually here and your maid servant, even less. Though she was kind enough to tell me that I'm a prisoner here. Your letter, however, conveniently left that part out. Perhaps you should see to it that it's included, if you wish to attempt this again, this... poor method of capture. And sending your maid to speak with me? It's a cowardly and dishonourable man who doesn't venture forth and speak to his captive himself.

So, I would ask that you come and speak to me yourself. Unless, of course, I frighten you now that I'm no longer in irons.