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[ The woman seated in the centre of the video feed is pensive, worry in the lines of her mouth and the tension of her brow, but when she's sure the feed is working, those lines make a small shift until she's smiling - lopsidedly, sure, but genuine - into the camera. If this device does what they've told her, she'll have no complaints. ]

A good day to ye, friends. [ Whoever she's addressing. The uncertainty has her lifting her chin in unconscious bravado. ] I'm not a face any of ye'll be knowing, but if all's true we're to be allies all the same. The name's Anne Bonny, and I'd surely be obliged to any of ye with an idea of what to do for money in this fine city I'm to live in. I'm not in the mind to be stepping on toes, but it sounds like there isn't much call for a woman looking for shipwork round these parts, and war's no steady employment.

[ She pauses, then seems to come to some decision with a grimace. She'd abandoned barwork, and gladly, for ~~piracy~~ more exciting opportunities, but that's a world away. She adds, ] Something to the tune of serving drinks would be grand, for a time.

strategisch

[For once, Armin doesn't seem particularly upset or distressed while addressing the network, but thoughtful. He sits back in his chair and occasionally looks towards what seems to be a book in his hands, although it looks like it's giving off a faint glow as he opens it.]

My... condolences, to those who were close to late Emperor. I'm somewhat conflicted about how I should feel myself, since since she is-- was, our captor, but assassination is a dirty way to die no matter how you slice it. I know she had a personal guard in Evandau, but if she had a more proper retinue, or even a military, maybe this could have been prevented.

Regardless, I doubt her passing will help our situation any; if anything it will probably cause complications. That message from It was certainly indication that things aren't going to get any easier for us.

[His expression wraps up his thoughts on the matter nicely: skeptical, but resigned. He shakes his head as he moves on.]

On a less serious note, it looks like everyone is gearing up for another holiday. Christ...mas? What's this one about? It's awfully close to the solstice and the new year, does it have to do with those somehow?

And this damn book...

[He flips through the pages again, and angles it towards the camera so everybody can see. It's a very insubstantial book, and each page is a thin, membrane-like screen that displays like a computer would.]

There's definitely something to this book that I'm not getting. It's some kind of machine, but I'm not sure how it works. Have any of you ever seen anything like it?

unconchonable

[Maybe it's in bad taste. Maybe it's in bad taste and Eridan really does not give a shit. He's heard the news, and is delighted by it, to be perfectly honest. She was nothing but a disrespectful cur, and the news of her death has left him elated to say the least. When the feed turns on, he's sipping a hot cup of tea (pinky extended), of what type is anyone's guess, but he looks amused as ever.]

I say the bitch got what was comin' to her.

[He takes another long sip. He feels no need to disclose who, when it's probably obvious to anyone with a working think pan.]

Just goes to show that maybe there is some modicum a justice in this place.

ironwood

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