Video;

[leviathaned]

[Well, look who came out of his sulk! Sei looks mildly amused and seems to have contracted a chronic case of shirtlessness, so please enjoy the nasty burn scars up his left arm and the chiseled physique.]

...You know, where I'm from, there's usually a lot less small children asking strangers for candy and a lot more dark rituals and insanity-causing booze on Halloween. I'm gonna go ahead and say this is an improvement. The costumes are the same either way, though.

[Just saying, he finds this all mildly mystifying.]

But hey, nevermind that, I had a more important question; who does a guy have to sleep with around here to find someone willing to make a piano? And while I'm at it, what's the music like where you're all from? I could stand to despair the state of the arts some more.

Voxophone I -- video

[beunbroken]

[UNLIKE her… friend? escort? companion? partner-in-crime?, Elizabeth had significantly less-trouble starting the network running. Probably because she paid attention to what was being told to her. What can she say? She picks things up pretty easily. After turning on the PC, she settles down in front of it, looking at it curiously. This is where the feed begins.]

Oh! Hello! You really can see my face! It's like a voxophone and a Kinetoscope all in one!

Right. My name's Elizabeth- I'm looking for a man? He's tall, brown hair, rugged-looking, scowls all the time, like this: [She contorts her face into an exaggerated scowl for a moment, before returning to an easier-to-look-at face.] His name is Booker Dewitt, and if anyone has seen him… Well, I hope he's here. [Did she actually just say that? Yes, yes she did.]

And if he's not? Well, then, hello!

[video]

[takeittothemax]

Quick question. Any newbies in the audience happen to be telepaths? Or oldbies, I'm not really picky.

[It looks like he's about to swallow a lemon here.]

Name's Max Lord, and I could use a favor.

[And now, an additional, bigger lemon.]

I'd really owe you one.

[He spins a bit in his spinny chair, pondering. Less lemony looking, anyway.]

One of something, anyway. To be determined later.