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[ Mandorallen is dressed in plainclothes, but he's holding his broadsword in view of the camera, stepped back a bit so that most of his body is in frame. ]

The recent calamity that hath befallen this place was a mortally dangerous one, as we all are keenly aware. And methinks it will not be the last -- it doth go without saying that there is something decidedly strange about this place, and none of us could pretend to understand its ways or those of the strange people who reside here. But one thing hath become clear: this place, friendly and idyllic though it may often be, can pose great danger to us. And not all unfortunate souls here are well-equipped to defend themselves.

So, fellow foreigners, I have a proposition for thee. I am well skilled in the arts of war; any man or woman who doth wish to receive instruction so that they may better defend themselves, and live to serve or fight another day, should do so as to contact me. I can offer lessons in swordplay and, though it is not my forté, hand-to-hand fighting. These lessons will come free of charge to those who might seek to learn, for I am loathe to rob thee of money for something so important.

thewaythatiam

[ Astrid, meet the network. Network, meet Astrid. She is sitting at the console very straight and stiffly, and looks all but expressionless - except for how wide her eyes are and how she appears to be fidgeting with the fingers of one hand. When she speaks, her voice is very even, though, and not modulated much at all. ]

Hello.

[ there's a brief pause as she stares at the camera. When she starts talking again, her eyes dart away from the camera to look down and off to the side ]

I am Agent Astrid Farnsworth. I would appreciate it if someone would tell me if there is an Agent Charlie Francis, an Agent Lincoln Lee, or an Agent Olivia Dunham here. I report to them and I need further instruction about what I should be doing in this situation.

...Please.

[ her eyes flick back to the camera, then away, and she shuts the feed off ]

effective

[There’s a girl staring at the screen with a look that’d seem almost dead if not for the intensity in her eyes. Katniss is really fucking unhappy, and it shows] It was supposed to be over. [She’s addressing the screen, but it sounds almost like she’s talking to herself.] It was supposed to be over, and they were supposed to leave me be.

[Her fingers twine around each other, drawing attention to the way her hands are scarred with burns and stretched, pale skin where it was grafted on. Observant people might note similar marks crawling up the side of her neck] They told me this emperor knows everything, but that just sounds like another word for president to me. I won’t play this game again, not ever. [Her fingers form a fist and she tears her eyes away from the screen to stare at it. She’s silent for so long, it seems almost as though she’s forgotten she was recording]

Where’s Peeta? [It doesn’t seem to have occurred to her that he might not be here.] No more games.

neverleftharlan

[On comes the video. A handsome man in his early forties, wearing a Stetson, staring the screen down with the kind of suspicion typically reserved for interrogations.

And for about ten seconds that is all he does. When he speaks, it's with a thick Kentucky accent.]

I suppose, now I'm thinking about it, using this means of communication is an acknowledgement that this is in fact happening and I am not higher than a summer kite or having a trauma-induced hallucination of some kind. S'funny, I didn't figure myself as the type, but I suppose one never does.

I'm going to find a drink. Somewhere in this… [A pause that stretches long enough to indicate he's at a loss for words.] Extremely creative venture into the deep recesses of my apparently disturbed psyche. Because god knows if I'm in my head, there's got to be a puddle around here somewheres.

inshiningarmor

Greetings, my fellow foreigners. I trust thou art all well, even as the tender leaf hath turned and frost doth begin to touch this fair isle. I come to thee once more with a query, and I hope that there is even one among thee who might be able to provide me with an answer.

[ aaand he lifts what is definitely Captain America's shield, holding it up for the network to see. ]

On my final embarkment to the mainland, I came across this lying on the ground. I know that myself and others have been so fortunate as to find possessions from our own worlds scattered mysteriously across the wasteland, and verily, I found this shield to be at great odds with its surroundings. Might it belong to some resident of the city? It is a fine shield indeed, and its owner must be loathe to be missing it.

littlecousin

[Nita's at an anonymous cafe console, chin propped on one hand with a cup of something steaming at her elbow.]

Something occurred to me during all that rioting. A lot of us are from civilizations that don't really do sword fighting anymore, right? But that and arrows are pretty much all they've got here. If anyone wants to learn how to use a sword--or a knife or a staff or whatever--I can teach you. I come from a civilization that still does a lot of sword fighting.

[That sounds more dry than boastful. Atlanteans are warlike douchebags who enjoy a bit of stabbing each other over disputes, and that's not Nita's scene. She pauses for a second before giving fair warning:]

But, uh, it's hard to learn? Not like with guns. You're going to have to practice a lot to get tolerable, never mind good. So don't say I didn't warn you.

notpredictable

GREETINGS CITIZENS OF -- [Pause, squint - what was it again? Ah -- yes.] Keeliai! [YES THAT'S RIGHT. Looking triumphant in his little metal palace, he straightens, looking gleeful.]

It is I - MEGAMIND, and -- well.

[Looking terribly smug, he brushes an imaginary speck from his suit.]

I am the current and still very active villain of Metrocity though it appears I am taking a brief hiatus - much to my chargrin, Trust me I had no damned intentions of it BUT - gracing you lot with my magnificent and glorious presence. [Hands up.]

I know, I know. Shock and awe, amiright? [Chuckle. Oh God he's so hilaaaarious isn't he?]

NOW – let’s get down to business, shall we? All of us have been…displaced, as it were, and if I am correct – and I generally am - we all have needs and wants and desires from back home. [Regardless of if they’re dead or not, people still want their THINGS.] As…such…

I am willing to attempt to recreate some of these small luxuries from home depending on what it might be, and if parts and such are available. Considering this place is sorely lacking in up to date and up to par technology, not all things are going to be possible despite my massive and prodigious intellect, I cannot, unfortunately, make mountains of molehills.

Unless I’m home, and I have the Earth Shaker 3000. Then I probably could.

BUT I DIGRESS. Yes, good and services, yadda yadda… [Flipping through a clipboard.] Right. Done for a fee. Nothing is free, my soft headed lemmings! Remember that. There’s always a price.

Miss Lane, do be a dear and send me your precise coordinates and communications device frequencies. It was a bit beastly locating you last time.

[Stalk stalk stalk.]

Ciao ciao, all~!

[Feed cut.]

((ooc: also feel free to note that these flyers are currently being posted all over each sector :3))

inshiningarmor

[ Mandorallen has opted for video for his first post, because while he’s figured out how to use the keyboard, the notion of using it still mystifies him somehow. ]

Greetings, fair people. I thought perhaps I could trouble thee with a question of mine own, as it hath scarcely been a full day since I found myself on this strange isle. I was garbed in mail on mine arrival, and, as I had feared, my time in the water hath set it to rusting. Doth any man know of a sturdy armorer or blacksmith who might thusly be capable of mending it? The damage doth run deep, I fear, and I must confess that I feel naked striking out without its cool weight upon my breast.

[ He smiles, a bit vacantly, into the video feed -- its' definitely a foreign concept to be speaking to...well, no one at all, and yet still have an audience -- and after a moment’s hesitation, bows his head. ]

If any soul could offer assistance in this matter, I thank thee kindly.

ironwood

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