[This wasn't meant to be a video, but it's a video nonetheless. Rosemariné thought he'd only have to speak, not be seen as well, but the concept of touch screens is a bit ahead of his time, to put it lightly. It's kind of a miracle he managed to get this far, although that might have been due to him spending the last four hours fiddling with the bracelet (and frequently throwing it onto his desk). What viewers have the pleasure of seeing now is a incredibly pretty individual dressed in the manner of a 19th-century man with far too much money on his hands. One that hates you so much that he doesn't even want to spend the energy to whack you over the head. Yes, you.]

Good afternoon.

[If he seems incredibly angry at the world right now, it's probably because he is. His words are polite but curt, as if he's trying to make sure that everything gets said as bluntly as possible so he can get back to glaring at things.]

I've already been told that there's no use in insisting I'm sent back immediately, so you don't need to tell me. That doesn't mean I'm at all inclined to believe it, but there you are. I'm tired of hearing the same thing constantly, as if I'm an idiot. If you happen to have information that is more useful, however, I'm happy to hear it.

[A small, annoyed sigh, although he doesn't drop his composure. (That, too, has already happened in a strictly private setting.)]

Now, as for this whole affair with emotions and patron deities... my Scandinavian roots do not mean that I believe in the gods of old. They are a part of fascinating legends, and nothing more. I require a proper Christian church to reach a state of health and happiness, so you've chosen very poorly if that's what you want from me.

That is all.

[The video lasts for another minute, though, as he attempts to make it stop.]

[The audio feed turns on and what follows is fairly monotonously said.]

Wow! More and more surprises today. First Yuki visits and now I'm transported here. Aliens do exist.

[There's an almost imperceptible clicking sound before it changes from audio to video to include a single eye, spiky white hair, and one of those bracelets you receive when you arrive with the color for Heimdall.]

…

[The video clicks out and then clicks back again.]

Is there anyone else here who isn't an alien?

[The video feed switches on and shows Gippal. He just finished looking over the basic functions of this thing.]

Huh. This thing recording now? Can anyone hear me over this thing? [He waves his hand a bit in front of the holographic screen. It's not exactly like the tech he has in his world.]

Looks like it’s working. [He’s gonna feel silly if it’s not. But anyway, now it is time for introductions.]

The names Gippal. I’m from this world called Spira. Anybody else here from there? If you are, you need to speak up now. If you aren’t, then just feel free to introduce yourself.

[Luckily for....most of Asgard, Ramirez expended most of his initial panic harassing a maid impervious to damage, so when he actually sits down and responds to the network he is fairly calm. He's trying hard to keep that impending sense of panic and claustrophobia under control. Because Lord Galcian wouldn't panic in a situation as meager as this. Panic was weakness and Ramirez would rather die than return to Lord Galcian with that kind of disgrace on his shoulders.

It's not often he finds himself so helpless and out of his element. The last time something of this magnitude had happened to him was...about seven years ago, when he first saw Arcadia with his own eyes.

He'd rather not think about those times. His own naivete made him sick. Instead, he focuses on addressing the community at large in his usual no-nonsense tone...though there seems to be a rather hoarse, stifled quality to it this time.]

I've no interest in assisting this world, but it appears as though my options are limited for now.

Explain this city. And if--

[Whatever else he was planning to say is cut off by a series of wet, miserable coughs that last up until the feed shuts off. Guess who didn't take kindly to his House snowman asking for a smile.]

[Right, so no video from Euri! Just audio, because her run-in with a certain spidery douchebag has her slightly paranoid. She doesn't want more people mistaking her for a citizen of this city. That was just embarrassing.]

I'll make this quick, since I doubt most of you will be useful! [Since you all seem to be mostly humans. Ew.]

First! Is there anyone else here who's from Fuggum? [She sounds pretty flippant as she continues. Asking feels awkward, and explaining is a hassle.] If you don't know what it is then you're obviously not someone I'm looking for, and I'm not about to talk about it to any of you, so don't ask.

Second, where can I get a cauldron? For cooking, since I'm not sure how anyone is supposed to do that when these houses don't even have a single fireplace or fire pit. [This has absolutely nothing to do with trying to brew potions, nosir. Just perfectly normal non-Witchy cooking.]

Finally... [She just sounds confused now.] What's a 'spa'? Is it something you can eat?

[Video]

[Hello, Asgard! Have a small girl looking nothing short of amazed at the screen.]

It really does work! Wow...

[And then she realizes that if it's working, other people are supposed to be able to see her. Wh-whoops!]

Ah, I'm sorry! I should introduce myself first! My name is Hibiki and I... I am going to do my best to help return color to this world! Um, I'm not very good at much, but... if there's anything I can do to help, just tell me and I will try!

[She pauses, not quite sure what else to say. She's still pretty fuzzy on how to return color to anything in the first place, which of course isn't helping matters at all. Maybe she should just end the message?

...If she can figure out how?]

Um... how were you supposed to-

[Abruptly, the feed comes to an end.]

Weather: Clear, 32F/0C
Events: The snow is just beginning to melt, as the temperature hovers right at freezing. The snow men will be gone by around noon.

NOTE: There is still an open mingle log for playing in the snow/dealing with snowmen.

Also, our apologies for the lateness of this day change!

[ there's a white-haired girl squinting half suspiciously, half irritatedly at her communication device's display. this level of technology is completely foreign to her, so she may look just a bit awed as well. luckily she expended (to no avail) much of her fury and energy on the mysterious maid upon arrival, but she still has two mean-looking swords on hand that she will use without hesitance.

congratulations asgard, you have just acquired one (1) cranky thor resident!

her voice is low and stable at the moment, however, but almost ominously so. the calm before the storm, one might say... she was, after all, in the middle of a Very Important mission before she was torn from her world. ]

All right, I've been putting up with a LOT of weird bullshit lately, but somehow this is still managing to piss me off. I got shit to do and places to be, so I'll be brief.

I'm not a fan of slumber parties. Someone tell me how to get the fuck out of here before some assholes start losing limbs.

[ it's mostly an empty threat.

... mostly. ]