Greetings. [ he considers formally introducing himself, but given the circumstances, perhaps it would be better left to another time. ]

I wish to put forth a formal request to speak to the patron to which I have been assigned. Odin, I believe. The matter is of the utmost urgency and unfortunately, cannot afford to be delayed.

If this is not the correct channel with which to ensure direct contact, then if I could be pointed in the right direction, it would be most appreciated.

Additionally — [ he pauses, mulling over the many questions that still remain in his head. unfortunately, there isn't time to ask all of them, so he supposes that if anything, he can start with the simplest ] — I'd like to enquire about the current Stardate, if possible.

( filtered to Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy )

[At the same time each day, the radio in each welcome hall (and any that people have chosen to buy in the meantime) comes to life ready for the day's radio.

And as part of the routine, Irving's voice, calm, clear and warm, is the first sound you hear. Despite the day he's having, he's keeping it off the radio.] 

Good morning --d welcome to Asgard's Audio Ser [...] vice. I am Irving Braxiatel and this is your community radio. Created by you, for you and with the hope that we become a greater community together.

I'd like to apologise first for any... interference... [There is no interference, there's only Brax and likely other people disappearing, but he is reasonably convinced that letting that slip is a bad idea.] that [...] may pop up occasionally. I'm afraid the equipment was rather more damaged than I thought in the flooding.

[I'll add a few comments down below with starters about programmes going on and your character can react, add to them, whatever you need. If you want, you can 'ring in' by posting a comment of your own with 'radio station' or 'Irving Braxiatel' or any other contributor you like and the contributor might respond!

More information, as well as a place to ask any questions or plotting can be found here.

[There are a lot of unpleasant things about sleeping for a while. Harry can barely remember what was happening before he slept. Hermione. Hermione had been with Remus. They were meaning to get out invitations. All of that is a haze, and Harry wonders if he should be remembering something. In fact, he wishes that were the case; he wishes he knew more about the future. There are moments when he tries to pretend otherwise, but fighting a war does wear down on someone.

It leaves him to wonder if his world will truly be safe.

Then again, there are other unpleasant things about waking up after a long rest. The awareness that Gilderoy Lockhart has arrived is high on his list.

Of all the people to arrive from home ...

Though, in truth, at least it's not Voldemort again.

Just the same, he doesn't doubt that people are wondering where he is, so after he wakes up, after he has some tea and tries to look as if he hasn't been sitting in the same position for who knows how long, he sets his bracelet in front of him.]

Hello, everyone, I'm Harry. [Because the truth is, he doesn't know how long it's been. Better to be safe than sorry.] I've been asleep for a very long time. Too long, honestly, and I feel like there must be a lot that I've missed. [Agitation creeps into his tone there, and it's evident by the slight downturn of his mouth.]

To tell you the truth, I haven't really spoken on here since my warning about Tom Riddle, but he's come and gone now. Which I suppose has been announced, hasn't it?

But because I haven't been around, I wanted to say some things that I still feel are true. [And honestly, he likes being able to communicate it to newcomers.] I don't know how much many of you know about what's happening here, and I don't know how things have progressed, but before I went to sleep myself, Odin was drained and unable to go on. Before that happened, there was ... there was a row with the gods, I guess you could say. A lot of people were unhappy with them. And who could blame you, really? You've been taken here without your permission. Necessary evils and all that.

But the gods aren't bad people. Some of them are gits. [He's thinking of one in particular here.] And being here is unsettling, scary, and ... not fair. Especially to those of you who haven't experienced this sort of thing back home. But they're trying. They've been through a lot, and we wouldn't be here unless they were desperate to save their world and ... while some people doubt this, I don't, our own.

[There's a point where he looks away for a moment, gathering his thoughts.]

I think that's all. I'd like to catch up with everyone, and meet some new people.

And ... I'm really glad to be awake again. No one wants to sleep that long. Trust me.

[Irving is in his office at the radio station, sitting behind his desk. He smiles cordially at the viewer.]

Greetings, Asgard. As you've may have noticed, with the departure of both Professor River Song and Vislor Turlough, I have been filing in with news and weather. 

But I would prefer it if someone with both the investigative passion of Professor Song and the scientific keenness of Mr Turlough would take on the role on a full time basis! 

Anyone interested in either role, or indeed any role that you think is missing from the radio station, should feel free and encouraged to apply to me, using the bracelet or coming to my office in the station in Freyr district. My rates are reasonable and I encourage a friendly, creative atmosphere to work in.

Thank you all for your time and patience.

[OOC: Here is the plotting post for anyone interested and anyone who has questions!]

[ To those who know him, Maglor looks tired. To those who know him well it might even be obvious that he has been weeping. To those who don't... this is the Elven Lord who once sat in High Council and played politics with the Kings of Beleriand before it was destroyed - cool, and apparently unaffected. ]

To those who knew him, Lord Elrond of Rivendell has returned to his world and his people. I have not his skill in healing, but to those he worked with in the healers wards, I will be glad to take his place as needed, for I know you remain short of hands.

[ he tips his head in a brief bow then turns off the feed - alone, his facade breaks - he is glad that Elrond is home, where he belongs, and he knows that he will be well, but it still hurts ]

[Sitting at a small desk in her room at the welcome hall, Claire has tons of paper with her bubbly cursive writing etched all over it. She's found the library and has a small stack of books piled up on the desk as well. She's not usually the studying type, but something's caught her attention today and she needs some help figuring things out.]

I've got a few questions about powers. I know there's guides on the bracelets or whatever, but I want to hear what other people have to say.

[The pencil she's using is tapped against her lip a few times as she thinks over how to word things. And finally, figuring it out, she grins.]

Has anyone here been able to switch to something else that's in their house? Or to the power of another house entirely?

[She glances down at her paper, and writes a quick sentence down upon it.]

And okay, this question is probably pretty personal, but how many of you have different abilities back home? I've heard that a lot of people here do. I was thinking about it, and was curious to figure out if anyone here has had their real powers come back to them? It's kind of important that I figure that part out.

[She acts like she's going to say something more, but then her jaw clamps shut. Seconds later, the video cuts off and Claire waits for responses so she can write them down. ]

[It's true. It's taken him some time to get himself settled given the current state of things (both physically and with his own inability to believe his lot straight away) but now that he has, Mohinder has devoted some of his attention to figuring out this communication device. There are several false starts before he manages.]]

My name is Mohinder Suresh.

[Though he looks Middle Eastern or Indian, he has a purring British lilt to his voice.]

A few days ago, just after the flood waters receded it seems, I arrived here without knowing why or how I might be tasked to help so that I may one day return home.

I'm sorry to say that I still do not know, but I am willing to learn. My skills might be few here. I am-- I had been a geneticts. A lecturer. A researcher. Until recently, I taught classes at a University in Madras on human evolution.

I was also told that I might have an ability. In my world, such things are possible to a few with evolved human genes. I do not possess such markers in my genome, however, so I am not sure how this might even be possible.

[Yes. He's always quite verbose.]

I would like to talk with anyone willing. I could trade information for...cleaning perhaps. Or cooking.

Thank you.

[ spike has no idea what's gone on the past couple weeks, but he doesn't seem concerned about it. his little gray cat is on his shoulder as he addresses the camera. he grins, other than being really exceptionally well-rested he's just glad to be back around and he's hoping he didn't sleep through anything mega important. ]

So... hey... what did I miss?

[ nope that's it. ]

In light of everything that's been happening lately... [ Which is a weird outlook for her to have, but she's actually feeling mildly excited about this... If not for herself, but for Peeta's sake. Either way, she's in a decent mood for once. And she'd love to help lighten the mood... Also for once. ] Peeta and I are starting to plan our wedding. Something simple, nothing too lavish.

[ She takes a deep breath, because she wants to ask Effie, but she knows that Effie will try to make it into something far more grand than she's looking for. ] I was wondering if anyone would be able to help me look for a dress.

Private to Rue ;

I've heard some wedding traditions include a younger girl who drops flowers for the wedding party. Would you? [ There's something in her voice that cracks a little, and she's welled up with emotion for a moment... Because Rue, and flowers. ]

Private to Peeta ;

You aren't allowed to see the dress until the day of the ceremony. If I bring one home, you can't use the closet until it's covered up.

Asgard.

[ so maybe Regina Mills has only one greeting up her sleeve when she is out of patience.

( and she is always so here, it would seem ). ]

Two matters. Firstly, the man you might have known as captain Hook,

[ she literally rolls her eyes at the name ]

Has been -- sent back by the Gods to continue his endless pursuit of vengeance and alcohol.

[ and she's annoyed about it, clearly. ]

Secondly, if the latest happenings taught us anything is that the Gods can vouch for our safety, perhaps; but that we also much vouch for our own. Natural disaster, war or any time of emergency would lead to a death toll unless there would be clear instructions of how to behave in such time and the order will be kept. I ask you this, there is no ruler to this city, no council and no mayor which explains the chaos and the panic and the blatant lack of order that came with the flood. With the lack of those, do you truly think we can vouch for our own safety? I don't suggest appointing one person to such a task I simply think that a council or a group that would work to make sure instructions would be given to everyone in Asgard, Natives and Travelers, to make sure everyone know what to do and where to go and what not to in time of battles, floods, earthquakes and fire.

I know we can't prepare for everything; but clear instructions and drills will help the people not to panic and after the flood, I think it'll be best if we all draw our conclusions as any community of mostly civilized people.

Citizens—

[ The man (it's only obviously a man from the voice - all features are borderline feminine, and it seems God made a pretty decent mistake when creating this creature) on the feed can only be described as disgruntled - tired eyes and a firmly set jaw, the hints of both annoyance and confusion resting in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The angle cuts off most his torso, but from what's shown there's the very clear stain of blood on his white shirt. ]

I come to you with arms spread, head up-tilted towards the heavens - or what rises above the heavens, I'm inclined to believe. The story this "Loki" has told me is, ultimately, difficult to believe but—

[ He sighs, like this is truly a try against his patience, shaking his head while golden locks frame his face. ]

But what choice is there, I will be told. I've come to rest and I find myself tangled in yet another war, in another place, in a world I care little about. If I do not fight, will I be sent back to the world I know, to rot beneath the dirt? Would God permit me this mercy? [ He clucks his tongue, cruelly, shaking his head with the way the words roll deliberately off his tongue. ] God, mercy.

[ He hears chants of you were wrong, you were entirely and completely wrong ringing freely in his ears, and this moment of self-loathing is brought on solely by the thought that Enjolras led his friends, his brothers, all to an early grave - and yet, where are they? When he needs them most, he's been kept from them. ]

It seems, even despite the evil that plagues, there is still no need for Lucifer, no need of Michael, for their names mean none in the light of this world. This after life — ha! To think of how we worship, led astray, and the glory of His kingdom is only another life anew. The cold grave I must have been buried in would be warmer, would it not?

[ He pauses, thinking again. This is not a speech led by his usual passionate retorts and screams - it's instead a reflection of his utter confusion, how truly lost he finds himself, and from that, his annoyance at himself. ]

Then, I am named Enjolras. It's better than the number that would wait below were I to go back, if nothing else.

You know, if I was a god, I'd really be a lot more picky when it came to the selection process.  I mean, really, as productive as talking about wedding cakes, unscrambling word puzzles, and making lists is, I think I'd be better off reeling in bunch of trained monkeys.  They be more productive and generally more pleasant to be around.  

No offense.

But I guess instead, these gods are going to settle for mutant children and unruly teenagers.  

Good luck making use of that for your relief efforts.  Maybe the flooding was punishment for the lack of total competency in this place.

Also.  I have an important question.  Do the gods here take human sacrifices?  That might help with the supply shortage problem.  Also the annoying surplus of orphans.

[For once, especially more recently, Clementine actually seems. Happy. There's a smile at her lips as she turns the bracelet on, giving a small wave to her audience. There's a pause and soft giggle as Midnight (her cat) comes to join them, seating herself on Clementine's lap.]

Hey Asgard. I just figured while I'm teaching Lee how to use these, I'd introduce him. He's...a friend that helped me a lot back home. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned him to at least most of you by now.

[Which is an understatement, she's talked a lot about him, especially when she was younger, prior to returning to Asgard a couple of years older. And she knows it. It's almost teasing, looking over to Lee and shifting her bracelet to show him so he can say hi.]

Come on, say hi, Lee! It's like a phone but with video. So they can see you and hear you!

Technology working again. 'Didn't think I'd be seeing that for a while. [Even if it is technology he's never seen before.

Lee is smiling, too - he's lost his left arm, which is still taking some getting used to, but he's with Clementine, and he's alive, there are no dead people trying to eat them... So, he's okay; he's good. His remaining hand rests on Clementine's shoulder as he addresses the video.]

Oh, uh. Yeah, hey; I'm Lee. Me and Clem - we looked out for each other, back home. 'Kept each other safe from the walkers - though Clem's probably told a lot of you about those things. It seems safer here than it was there, at least.


Yeah. The bracelets are pretty amazing. Just one more reason why you shouldn't take it off. Or you'll be like them. Those....grey people.

[But gosh she is just. So happy in spite of her confliction and guilt over Lee showing up. She can't help but smile back to him when she feels his hand at her shoulder. The expression might falter for a second, at the reminder of his lost arm again, but it's controlled, quickly locked down.]

Right. It is a lot safer here. Even in the war, I guess. Walkers haven't been an issue at all, even if Hel can bring people back if they die. It's...complicated. But Lee helped me a lot. So I wanted to teach him to use the bracelets and say hi to everyone, so he can meet my friends.

Grey people? [He gives Clementine a curious glance, still smiling. He'll have to ask about that properly later. As well as a shit ton of other things, honestly.]


Right, of course. Any friend of Clem here is a friend of mine. And it looks like I'll be here for the long run too now, so, uh.

[He's not quite as good at this as Clementine seems to be, so other than that, he only waves at the screen kind of awkwardly.]

Yeah, there's still some of all this I need to explain to him. But I just wanted to introduce him to everyone. So! Ellie, Doctor, Alice....everyone! Come say hi and meet him.

[ooc: Red is Lee, black is Clem.]

[The video pops on revealing the room the Doctor and River share at Thor 103. There is a figure standing in front of a mirror, a young woman. She looks at herself in the mirror putting lipstick on and straightening the leather jacket she put on. Someone who knows the female inhabitant of that room may notice that the clothes she wears all belong to River Song.

Then she turns around, her long braided hair whipping behind her and closes in on the camera.]

So now you decide to transmit, eh? It's just as well.

[She smirks, showing a set of white and perfect teeth.]

Anyone care to tell me where I am? Just woke up in this bed and the last thing I remember isn't exactly getting into it.

Where did you guys hide Hitler? It was just starting to get funny, you know?

Doctor? Amy? Rory? You can come out now, 's not a good joke at all.

[Attentive viewers may notice that the video is transmitted by River Song. Odd, isn't it?]

 [At the same time each day, the radio in each welcome hall (and any that people have chosen to buy in the meantime) comes to life ready for the day's radio.

And as part of the routine, Irving's voice, calm, clear and warm, is the first sound you hear.] 

Good morning and welcome to Asgard's Audio Service. I am Irving Braxiatel and this is your community radio. Created by you, for you and with the hope that we become a greater community together.

New people are due to arrive, if they haven't started already. Perhaps we'll find new friends and new stories to tell. 

[I'll add a few comments down below with starters about programmes going on and your character can react, add to them, whatever you need. If you want, you can 'ring in' by posting a comment of your own with 'radio station' or 'Irving Braxiatel' or any other contributor you like and the contributor might respond!

More information, as well as a place to ask any questions or plotting can be found here.

[Irving has noticed that Romana is no longer on the network, and what better way to announce, than when everyone is busy and unlikely to be sympathetic?]

For whom it may concern, Romanadvoratrelundar, or 'Romana', has left Asgard. I'm sure she would regret any inconvenience this causes anyone who knows her.

[And back to work.


OOC: Sorry for spamming Brax here! But needs must as the man himself says. Irving is relatively ok, because his current canon point gives him hope of seeing her again, but feel free to believe that he's secretly hiding his man-pain. Let's face it, it's usually a safe bet!]

[Irving is a little unsettled, though unlike his younger self, he's much better at keeping his cool about it. Still the embarrassment he feels is powerful.] 

Well, now. I suppose it had to happen eventually. [Being cursed, he means.]

I do apologise for any hurt or inconvenience the curse caused anyone. 

[And that's all you get in a general sense before he moves on.]

In the meantime, the station would be interested in what's going on? If anyone would like to contact me or the station with information they have, I'll make sure it's disseminated.

In the mean time, as rumbles are wont to cause us havoc somewhere down the lines, I would suggest that everyone be careful and possibly have a medical kit or a friendly healer near by.

[ The feed opens onto the brilliant sun-yellow and cerulean-blue feathers of a macaw parrot. It stares into the feed, bobs its head a couple times, then squawks out: ]

Aye, aye sir! Any port in a storm!

[ Not too far behind the bird sits a certain Captain Jack Sparrow; they're both at a picnic bench, outside somewhere, the sun shining down from behind the clouds overhead. ]

Move, damn you! Shoo! Shoo!

[ Jack waves his hands, trying to scare it off. The bird flaps its wings, shuffles on its feet, but doesn't leave. Instead, it shakes its head and says: ]

Mum's the word!

[ And squawks again. The macaw dodges the pirate's next swipes, galloping a couple inches out of reach atop the table, then tilts its head sideways to stare at him. The pirate huffs at it, then scoots over so that the video is centered more on himself. He leans forward conspiratorially, as if to not include the bird in the conversation, both hands lifted to emphasize. ]

As I see it, and while I do appreciate any sort of well-intended indemnification for this involuntary sabbatical, I can name meself [ -- and well, mid-sentence, Jack will suddenly start to speak exactly like Miss Elizabeth Swann, prim-and-proper girl-voice and all -- ] quite a few things that would be more appropriate than a [ -- OOPS. Jack's eyes flash wide, and the pirate promptly makes this face in utter confusion.

There's a sudden blur of gold and blue and brown, then, and suddenly Jack is hatless as well. He springs up to his feet in the same instant and shouts: ]

HEY!

[ still, of course, entirely in Elizabeth's voice. But the bird has already made its escape up the branch of the nearest tree, Jack's hat in tow. The pirate curls a fist against his mouth, glancing quickly between the bird and the feed, then reaches over to switch off. ]

((OOC: Meet Mr. Cotton's Parrot, the nautical-catch-phrase-speaking parrot! Also, Jack stole stuff he shouldn't have, and so has been cursed with Elizabeth's voice and speech patterns.  Backdated to Day 418 because work and yes.))

 [Hello, Asgard, meet Braxiatel. Unlike Irving, he's got no trace of the grey in his hair and the wrinkles are non-existent. Well, apart from the frown lines on his face.

He actually spent most of his time cooped up and not talking to anyone, reading the copious notes that his elder self had left for just such an occasion.

He's not as at ease as he is. He is a little nervous, honestly, and not good at hiding it.

He doesn't want to be making this post.]

Greetings. Asgard.

I apologise for... Irving Braxiatel's... absence at his... responsibilities. As you can see there are... extenuating circumstances. [Could you be more miserable about it?]

I'm sure all will return to normal in due course.

[And he has nothing further to say.] 

[Recognize this elf? No? Oops. Though those who frequent the Library in Odin's domain might recall seeing him bent over book after book, scroll after scroll, throughout much of the last few weeks.

Elrond adjusts the image a little until he's satisfied, then tilts his head slightly in wordless greeting to all who might happen to be watching.]

Vedui' il'er, greetings to those of Asgard. Though my greeting you is rather delayed, it is no less earnestly meant. I am Elrond. I wish to extend what skill I have in the healing arts to those who might need them.