[Larry wants to make this post short and sweet, so he gets right to the point when he starts the audio recording. He sounds pretty drained when he speaks; the usual upbeat tone in his voice is just totally gone.]

Uh, hi. Just a PSA of sorts here. I know he was kinda popular here, so I wanted to let you guys know.

[He takes a deep breath of hesitation, because he really doesn't want to say this. It took a few days to even come to terms with it and announce it:]

Edgey--er, Miles Edgeworth got sent home.

So uh...yeah. Sorry, guys.

[Then, a filtered audio clip to Trucy Wright]

Hey, Trucy? I'll take you up on that ice cream now.

[ perhaps most people are alarmed by the water in the strange place, but Lucy hasn't yet determined that she may not be somewhere exactly safe. Ever optimistic, Lu is playing in the water, the sound of water splashing as the video focuses on her bare feet. She hasn't quite discovered how to use the bracelet, amazed by it. Her shoes are somewhere in the distance. One may or may not be floating away.]

Well, isn't this thing odd? It's very pretty but... but how does it work?

[ there's the sound of the girl sloshing about again before she falls right into the water, the face of one bright eyed Lucy Pevensie coming into view, her hair dripping wet. She looks around once, twice, before fidgeting with the bracelet.]

Isn't there a map somewhere? I think I've gotten quite lost. I should find Peter or Su, maybe but... is there anyone who can help me? Really, a map would do just fine!

If anyone was planning on meeting up with Zack Fair...change in plans. He's gone.

[ There's a brief second after that where his face twists--because Zack isn't just gone, he's dead, and these damned gods don't care about the lives they're jerking around--but it's quickly gone as Cloud averts his gaze with a shrug. ]

Dunno. He seemed like he would have made friends here, so I figured someone should say something.

...One other thing. I'm gonna need someone from Sigyn who has Growth. Or just knows what to do with some flowers. [ The bracelet's angled at a small pot of yellow flowers that are starting to look rather neglected. W h o o p s. ] I know the water's a bother, but even advice would be handy. Flowers aren't my thing.

[Rachel is wearing a salmon colored coat and is dragging a pink suitcase on wheels -- and it looks like she's been crying. She quickly wipes her eyes and draws in a trembling breath before she speaks with a sense of authority that is unbecoming of a seventeen year old girl. Especially one that looks like she's very much out of her element.]

I demand some further explanation from someone who does not appear like they have taken part in a Stephen King movie. I've walked around the city a little, trying to find my friends, and --

[And here, Rachel deflates slightly.]

... I was on a train and -- Finn, I was holding his hand, and I don't --

[She lets out a breath, her cheeks puffing out slightly. Get your head on straight, Berry. You can do this. You are in control of this situation. You can make yourself presentable and get answers.

And suddenly, Rachel straightens her shoulders, her jawline sets, and she takes a deep breath to make herself sound calmer. She is not going to panic. This is obviously some grief induced hallucination spurred on by being separated from the people she loves. She can make her way through this psychosis like any proper starlet does.

By maintaining a positive public image.]

Assuming that I have not officially lost my mind... hello, fellow trapped Asgardians. My name is Rachel Berry. I am in the house of Freyr and I am supposed to be on a train to New York City in order to begin my --

[Tears are beginning to start again, but Rachel grits her teeth and grips the handle of her suitcase tightly as she stares into the hologram created by her bracelet. Though she looks a mess and her mascara is running down her cheeks, she seems to have a certain conviction about her. This girl wants answers. And she wants them yesterday.]

Why I was en route to the city doesn't particularly matter. What matters is that I must find my way out of here promptly.

Please let me know how to get out of here as soon as possible -- or where to contact proper authorities, and while this might sound slightly racist, ones that have faces, because my last attempts at negotiating this hostage situation fell flat when the faceless people stared at me blankly with -- whatever they stare at as they haven't got eyes --

[And Rachel draws in yet another trembling breath, to stop herself from panicking, before she utters out a weak:]

I just want to go home and my cell phone won't call my dads. The joke isn't funny anymore, okay, I get it, let's all make fun of Rachel Berry for one last hurrah while she is going through the biggest transitional period of her life, hilarious, you can all stop filming now -- !

[And she abruptly sinks down to sit on her suitcase, the video feed jilting oddly, before she mumbles another -- ]

Really funny.

[ The video feed is greeted by Tifa's very happy, chipper, smiling face. She's been very affectionate lately. ] Hello! I've noticed that sometimes there are people around who don't seem very happy with where they are... I'm Tifa, and I live in Freya's house - I thought I would offer something warm to eat for anyone who might want it, although we're provided for on a regular basis while here. I was thinking a midday meal, maybe tomorrow? Outside of the house, but still in the Freya district. Sometimes the gathering is half the fun, hmm?

PRIVATE TO CLOUD & ZACK ;

I'm sorry for my absence, both of you. I don't really know what happened... It's as if I got lost in some fog. Strange, isn't it?

[Zack's sitting in his room, and on the desk, close to him are some potted bright yellow flowers. They almost seem to glow with warmth, though there's nothing magic about them. They're exactly what they seem.]

Back where I'm from, we don't have this "Ides of March" story I heard some people talking about. Sounds like it's about a leader from some other world.

I sure am grateful to the gods for the history lesson, but I don't care to play games with people's lives and safety. To get loyalty, you have to give it. I'll gladly fight for a good cause, a good leader. If we're supposed to be fighting a war for them, why would they stab their own soldiers? [He laughs. The sound's a little rueful, a little cold, but a moment later, he glances briefly toward the flowers, and then his expression softens.]

That's a rhetorical question. It's not that I don't know that happens all the time, but I don't want to be a part of it. Do the "right" thing, you get a reward, do the other, you get it in the neck. [He's been there.] Are we not feeling enough emotions for them on our own, so they have to stir us up more?

Now look, I like getting presents from home as much as the next guy, but not at the cost of someone else getting hurt. I don't think the people we've left behind, the ones some of us got mementos of, would want that either.

Doesn't sound like the gods are out there listening to us, but if they are, I wish they'd at least explain, whether they're responsible or not. What do the rest of you think about it?

*The image wavers a little bit as someone is still fussing with the bracelet.*

...so it's like a sphere. *There's a man staring into the screen. It's hard to read his facial features because he's wearing shades over his eyes and there's some kind of high collar obscuring his mouth. With swatches of grey hair on the top of his head and his temples, he seems to be an older man. There's a bit of a rasp in his voice.*

I was supposed to go somewhere else but I ended up here. *Apparently there was no gentle rest for him. Not just yet.* Assuming everything in the letter is true, what do I have to do?

The events of the last few days have made it rather clear to me that we need to sharpen the survival instincts of some of our people. All the better to avoid injuries like the ones we've had, lately.

[Johnny is currently broadcasting from his window, looking out into the night. He stops for a moment to take up his shikomizue, opening the scabbard just enough to show a hint of the sword within.]

As successor to the Unchou Shihan Iai style of swordsmanship, it's my duty to offer my services to those that need them. Training that will consist not only of basic self-defense, but the exercises necessary to cope with pushing your body through a long haul of combat or physically taxing labor. I'll even break my rule of only teaching girls, and open the offer up to the far less fair gender. I'm sure some of you have already engaged in least some kind of open training, I know I'm not the only polished fighter here.

Those of you who CAN fight and choose not to pass on your knowledge, I suggest you get over your issues and get to it. To have the power and knowledge, yet not be willing to help others survive is an egregious sin, and I'll be more than willing to pound that fact into your thick heads.

[He hops to his feet, removing his sunglasses dramatically and gazing intensely into the camera.]

I see that some of you lament your lack of power, thinking your ability is "useless". Never think that you're useless, or that your power can't help others. All of us have been blessed with unique gifts. This place has taken from us with one hand, and given with the other. Refine your control and show our captors that you're determined to forge a path, no matter what the circumstances are!

( (lead into voice post): Cloud's reactions to being stabbed have never been entirely normal. )

Tifa!

Tifa, come back. [ With his labored breathing it's too staggered to be an order, sounding more like a desperate plea. ] Tell me what I did. I can't... [ It's not in her to hate any but the most awful people and there's a surge of terror that he's done something, will do something in his future horrible enough to make him that. But it's still not right. She was talking to him normally, smiling, why would she do that if she hated him? And... ] It's not like you to run away. So...please, come back.

( (action--Sigyn, with Vanille) )

Hello – is there someone who can hear me? The woman in the palace... Is what she said – is it true? We were chosen? Brought here for a purpose?

[ She makes a quiet 'mm,' sound, acknowledging and pondering the situation all at once. ]

If that's the case... Is there anyone here who can tell me, have you seen a young girl with a pink ribbon in her hair, named Marlene? She might have had a boy with – [ You can almost hear the slight smile in her voice when she speaks. ] – light brown hair, a bit long, with her. They were with me, not too long ago… Surely, they could have been brought here, too… [ She's concerned, but also very hopeful. It's possible, right? Completely possible.]

I would be grateful for any information you could offer me! I need to find them as soon as I can. [ And then another thought occurs to her. Marlene and Denzel weren't the only members of her family there in the church with them. What if some of the people she knows are already here, and can hear her? ]

Barret? Are you here? [ And, of course... Though he's doing so much better than he was before, she is always concerned for his well being...]

Cloud?