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[So Phil has had quite enough of the nightmares and the not-really-sleeping and the general feeling of anxiety that's been nipping at his heels for nearly a month. It's messing with his ability to adapt—hell, to exist—and he's pretty sure there's only one solution.

It's what would have happened back home, anyway, if he didn't—

Well.

Anyway.]

Is there a psychologist in the house?

iron_ego

[Tony appears in a pair of dress light slacks and a dark button down shirt with the top two buttons undone. He's in his suite and the area around the console is one-third office space and two-thirds workshop. A partial profile of the Mark VI can be seen in the far back.

He looks at the camera, his business face on.]

CEO of multinational corporation seeking employees for long walks on the beach and late, candlelit shifts. [He pauses, tut-tuting thoughtfully.] Must be willing to be to accept a benefits package that is, let's face it, far and above what that dime store imitation Wayne Enterprises offers.

[Tony drops the token formality, taking on a charming grin.]

Stark Industries is back in business, folks. I'm launching a Keeliai subsidiary with what is, by the by, a very generous initial contract. [Guess who's pleased to be offering mobile telecommunications to the enforcement of Keeliai?]

And here's where all of you -- [Said with a gesture to the camera.] -- come in. I'm hiring and entry-level pay is twice what the going rate offered by the kedan. Plus, you get the satisfaction of supporting your fellow Foreigners on this turtle acid trip.

Telecommunications experience is a bonus, but in a city that thinks the smoke signal is better than texting? I'll be flexible.

[His grin widens.]

And, ladies? The position of my personal assistant is open and pays three times the kedan rate, to start. Try not to trip over each other in your rush to apply, because I promise each and every one of you will get a personal interview with Tony Stark himself.

shootingshields

[public video;]

[Say hello to Peggy, sitting at a console with what looks like the designs of a Fire Sector suite in the background. For the tech savvy, the console address is traceable to Steve Rogers.]

I hope those displaced from the Earth Sector fire have found a place to stay until the suites can be rebuilt or new homes. Fortunately, it looks as if the damage was contained before it spread too far. I think this situation is exactly the sort of thing a council for us ‘foreigners’ would be good for, and I mean in the sense of checking the damages, injuries, and helping people find temporary lodgings.

[Not necessarily hunting down perpetrators. And she has her suspicions on what might have started it, but that is not going out publicly. So on a different note!]

Though we can all understand the spoken word and each other here, I’ve found that’s not the case with the written. I’ve started making efforts to crack the kedan language, as it were, but there’s very little to help along these lines. Picking up words on signs is one thing, but a grasp of the grammar and structure is another.

Has anyone else been trying to do the same? I’m not sure much more will be possible unless we find the kedan version of a Rosetta Stone, to be honest.

[video; filtered/locked 30% to Favrielle nó Eglantine]

[she’s not worried about it being hacked, but she’s not interested in attempting to publicly ping someone for a one-on-one conversation either.] Favrielle, I’d like to commission you once more. Would you prefer discussion in person?

[And then text;]

[written in German, because testing the feature:] If you can understand this, please respond.

littlecousin

( Warning: discussion of severe burns )

hesmypuddin

[Harley had gotten settled in rather easily to her multi-floored residence, hanging her costume to dry in the bathroom. She'd wasted little enough time in getting herself a robe from Vishan knew where and settling down in front of her console. She turns on the video feature and is smiling brightly when she starts to speak, a towel wrapped around her hair.]

Well if this ain't a fine how ta do... Ain't the kinda explosive entrance I'm used ta makin', but what can ya do, huh? [She waves at the camera.] Hi there, folks! The name's Harley... Harley Quinn. I don't suppose ya heard'a me, by that's yer loss an' not mine. HAH!! I won't waste too much time on the pleasantries, but if ya would be kind enough ta tell me if my Puddin', Mistah J, or Pammy are around here, I'd really appreciate it. Or my Lil Jay!! Heck, even ole Two Face or Killer Croc would be a sight for sore eyes...

disfavored

Greetings, once again. I've only been here for a short while - and apparently most of us have not been here long - but it has come to my attention that we're rather unorganized and lack the political representation that the native residents have.

I've brought this issue forward and have been granted permission by the Emperor to form a government of our own to deal with certain issues pertaining to us, rather than going to her for help. She'll still be open to visitation, I'm sure, but you'll have an alternative.

We are a very diverse group, so I would propose a sort of coalition - or council, if you will - to be elected by democratic vote.

You may nominate someone, if you wish, although they'll have to agree to put their name in the running. Or, you can nominate yourself.

I'd like to start by volunteering myself - I am Tarrlok, for those of you I haven't met yet - and I'll open myself up to any questions any of you might have. I encourage any other interested parties to do the same.

plumlucky

[Stephanie comes onto the network a la video and she looks tired, bedraggled, and kind of like hell in her flannel shirt and still damp jeans.]

Hi. Stephanie here. [She wrings her hair a little.]

That was an experience I never, ever want to repeat. [Ever.]

Why the ocean? Couldn’t it have been a freshwater lake? At least that way, I wouldn’t feel like a too salty piece of beef jerky, though I guess then you run the risk of leeches and other watery vermin. [She needed a shower, bad, but she had some questions first. It wasn’t unordinary for her to shunt personal hygiene to the side for at least a few minutes when there were answers that could be sniffed out.]

And, why a coma? Anybody have any answers? Those guys that ‘saved’ me were kind of vague. I’ll buy coffee – if they have it here and God I hope they do – for anyone that can help me out.

[Or at least, she will until her money runs out, anyway.]

earpiece

[When the video feed clicks on, anyone paying attention will be treated to the image of a man who looks wildly uncomfortable. He's dressed in local clothes—his options were change into the garb generously offered or sit in the bloody, wet suit that just happened to be his favorite and is now instead draped across the back of his chair and probably ruined forever along with most of his other stuff—and is wearing an expression that's a curious mix of frustrated and tired and dazed. Like he knows what's going on, but can't quite believe it.

He rubs his face before speaking, shoulders rising and falling with an inaudible sigh. Without fully raising his gaze to meet the camera, he says:]

My name is Phil Coulson. I just—

[He hesitates, thinking. How is he supposed to approach this? "Hi, I just died, it's nice to meet you all here in this afterlife I wasn't expecting?" Bright blue eyes flicker toward the keyboard, then dart back up, this time focusing directly on the lens.]

I arrived here a little while ago.

[And there it is, the versatile, thin-lipped little smile that those who know him already know so well. This time, it's meant to convey something akin to appreciation toward those who helped him, but it looks a bit pained. He's not sure he can help that.

Because, you know, his back is killing him. Pun completely intended.]

Just thought I would say hello.

ironwood

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