[Gene's voice is the first part of his message to go out over the system.]

Hello? Oh, hey! I think it's on, that's perfect. Nice and intuitive, just the way it should be. Now I just need to...get this...thing...

[The image function clicks on, showing Gene's broad, self-assured smile. He's obviously very pleased with himself.]

Ha ha, nailed it! Awesome, I knew I'd get it right. I'll have the ins and out of this place mastered in a day, tops. So, since I've just revealed my own fabulous face to you people, why don't you all do the same? Be nice to get a look at what kind of neighbors I'm going to have around here. Name, where you're from, which house they threw you in, you know the drill.

Hell, I'll even go first. Name's Gene. Gene Starwind, co-proprietor of Starwind and Hawking, and soon-to-be-famous grappler pilot. Nice to meetcha'. I'm from a cozy little rock called Sentinel 3, nestled deep in the Hei Phong region of space. Back home I used to handle everything from bodyguarding, to retrieval, to relationship advice.

I know, I know. Pretty impressive. Please, hold your applause. Alas, I'm only one man out of my entire crew to get here, so I'm afraid fixing this little monochrome problem you all have might take a wee bit longer than usual.

[ Crickets do awkward night gigs, babies exercise vocals on planes, long nails make sweet, passionate love with blackboards — and Thor inflicts horror on the ears by repeatedly smashing his bracelet with a large metal object. At some point, presumably because the hammer-of-doom-meets-hapless-accessory action gets very old, very fast, Mjölnir is set aside to reveal its mumbling owner. ]

...the field-drummer does better work.

[ Louder now: ]

To all who hear: shed weapons where you have taken them, lower flags where they've been raised. Call back your armies and free your captives. I carry the word of Asgard's king.

[ A pause, then slowly... ]

There is no war - no threat - no enemy. You have known lies and sorcery. Asgard is at peace.

[ And just in case you missed it: another lovely BAM to mark the hammer-bracelet romance. ]

You have the sworn say of Thor, son to Odin and bound arm to Mjölnir: Asgard is at peace.

[ Alex is hanging out in Gefion Park, idly tearing at a blade of grass in his hands while he seems a little distant, distracted, half trying to figure out what the hell is the advantage to a horse with eight legs instead of four, and half reflecting. ]

You ever have something that, for a long time, caused you nothing but problems, and screwed up your life at every turn - but then, once it's gone, nothing feels right anymore?

[ Granted in the last month or so, he'd come to embrace his mutation as a core part of himself he'd never part with, but Alex kept thinking of his time in solitary, staring up at the cement ceiling and wishing his power would just fizzle away. Maybe it wouldn't bring the others he'd hurt back to life, but it'd at least stop the incidents - the deaths. He wonders, if he'd been brought from his jail time instead of after Charles found him, if he'd be relieved. It's weird that he'd lost his mutation just when he finally started to get it under control, finally started to actually live with it. Freaking figures.

He blinks for a moment, clears his throat, and moves on from it. There was an actual point he was going to make. ]

Is anyone offering any kinda training for whatever new crap we get here? Doesn't seem that complicated, but I'd rather know what I'm doing than just start trying to bench press couches 'til I find one I can't lift. [ Because if Alex knows anything about new powers it's that control is the first thing you should have. And if it wasn't indicative enough, Strength is the ability he's dealing with here. And also he can totally help you do some interior redecorating if you need some furniture moved.

There's the awkward pause of a person not used to addressing large groups of people having a deer in the headlights moment before Alex clears his throat, remembering there's an important thing he should probably add in. ]

Um. I'm Alex. By the way.

Hi.

[ ...and bye. feed cut. ]

[The video starts with a young man's face, a fringe of blond hair over uncertain eyes. His jaw tenses, but his voice is calm and steady when he speaks.]

This city's sort of like a clock too, isn't it? It's like another Arena, just with nicer allies.

[Because everyone that he's met has been kind to him. Surprising, when he knows that he should be dead now, or at least in a lot more pain. But somehow he escaped.]

The only thing I really need to know, the only thing that matters is if there's a girl named Katniss Everdeen here. Or maybe she was here and got away.

[Even better.]

I know I should be thankful just to be alive right now, but it won't mean anything if she's not okay too.

[ well this is. weird. and Rachel has some heavy experiences with weird, weird is practically her best friend. so the fact that she looks a tiny bit confused when the transmission starts, the fact that she's sort of wincing in that 'hey, I'm the new kid in class, sorry if I start glowing and rambling on about things that make no sense' way she's adopted since she gained her abilities, is saying something. she can't really be here, she knows she has things to do back home, the Oracle doesn't exactly get a vacation, not when Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus which sort of botches the whole Prophecy of Seven thing, and HER BEST FRIENDS ARE IN TARTARUS so it's all very stressful and worrisome-- rightright, she can't be here.

but she's already got the 411, already talked to her maid and watched the little Intro to Asgard video, kinda-sorta figured out her bracelet. not that she's tecno-challenged ( she had a flip phone back home, okay ) but she doesn't want to mess anything up here. if this is some kind of test, some weird game the Gods felt like putting her through even though she's as mortal as mortal can be, she's going to do it right.

even if she has a really bad feeling that this has nothing to do with Apollo's terrible sense of humor. ]

So. Hi. [ here's a quick wave ( are there scribbles on her palm? yes ), a nod, and a You-Betcha-This-is-at-Least-50%-Forced grin ] My name's Rachel Dare, I'm a Gemini, and I'll draw a very flattering portrait of the first person that volunteers to explain the situation here, completely free of charge. [ a beat] Like, an explaination from someone that isn't a "God", please. [ SHE'S NOT ON THE BEST TERMS WITH THE GODS FROM HER WORLD RIGHT NOW that's obvious ]

Because look, I can handle being dropped into an unfamiliar place and find my way from A to B just fine, since I did grow up in New York, but if I'm going to be living here? I'd really appreciate a little mortal- [ or demigod, but she doesn't actually.. know that there are any demigods here. hn. she won't let herself hope for that. ] confirmation on what I've heard about this place, and for someone to point me in the direction of the best place to get strong coffee, as soon as possible. Oh, oh, and ability- Do I seriously have a superpower? Is that- did I get that right?

But anyway. [ ahem! ] Hey, Apollo, if you can hear me? [ she's squinting at the camera now, not maliciously, but in a 'challenge accepted' way. SHE'S GOT THIS. ] I've totally got this under control. [ nodnod, oracle out, then she reaches to shut off the feed ]

[For the most part, since returning from Vanaheim Luke's been staying off of the network and just watching. The city and the people in the city were interesting enough, even if he wasn't any more impressed with the Norse gods than the Greek ones. With the disappearance and reappearance of Annabeth and his blow-up with Thalia, not to mention everything that had happened while he was outside of the city, it was no wonder that he decided to come back and make another appearance just to serve as a distraction.

So today, Asgard, you get a lovely view from someone seated on the ground outside in the castle courtyard watching the ongoings of the festival. People are free to come up to him if they'd like, but for the most part he's going to pretend to be focused on the network. The best way to practice his telepathy requires two steps: one, sit outside in an open area where he's bound to come across people whose thoughts he can hear, and two, lie about doing it. He's pretty sure this isn't going to get the results that he wants, but he's got nothing else to do at the moment. Practicing, training is an ingrained part of his life. To not do such seems so...strange.]

Nice place. [That's all he'll say about that though.] Guess I should have asked this a while ago when I first showed up, but better late than never, right?

So. What powers did you guys get? [Because talking about the festival's not going to get him the answers that he wants. Being at the festival might though.]

[Coming back to reality is a nauseating experience.

The last time Sam Winchester went grey, he wasn't in a great mental place. He had thought he had officially lost his mind -- and when Sam woke up in the hospital and refused to leave, he was fairly certain he was going to kick it. He hated not being in control of his own body -- it was the one thing Sam Winchester absolutely couldn't deal with.

This time, when he came back, he had had a similar freakout.

It took a couple of hours of wandering around and deep breathing for him to calm down enough to cope with being back in Asgard, a little dizzy and oddly tired. But all of that he could deal with, because Sam was up to date.

The angels fell. Sam had almost died. The trials were a fluke. Crowley was... well, Sam wasn't entirely sure what Crowley was anymore, but he didn't really find it in his heart to care.

Despite all of that, though, Sam felt pretty... good. Good enough to turn on the video feed and deliver his flattest expression, though his irritation is betrayed by the brightness in his eyes and the tiniest upward twitch of his lips.]

I had this speech prepared about the inaccuracies of the autumn festival with the time period of the height of popularity of the Norwegian gods, but then I could've sworn I smelled deep-fried Oreos, and I decided to follow my nose instead of give a history lesson.

[With a brief sigh as Sam turns, the camera revealing that he's just outside of the castle courtyard, where the food is being cooked and smells... pretty delicious, despite Sam's general aversion to things that aren't healthy.]

Maybe I missed something in my vacation into uniformed greyness, but... I'm pretty sure I just saw a native Asgardian eat a hot dog. Are we celebrating our Travelers' heritage or is this some kind of joke? And has anyone told them what's actually in those things, because they're --

[Sam stops himself from his lecture, though, and lets out a sigh that turns into a soft laugh before shrugging, letting it go.]

Anyway -- my name is Sam Winchester and I guess I'm back from the grey-dead, to those that know me or care. And to the new people, uh -- I guess enjoy the food.

[Pause.]

But try to make sure you know what you're eating, first.

[And he turns off the feed.]

[The video feed flickers on but Luke seems more intent on studying the touchscreen that's popped up once he turned on the bracelet. He'll get around to addressing everyone in a sec, he's a little more interested in getting more familiar with the technology. Demigods and technology generally didn't go together for safety purposes, but if he was already dead, maybe it didn't matter.

Granted, he wasn't even sure if he was still dead at this point. This wasn't rebirth. He didn't have any recollection of anything beyond his final breath, but here he was and he was able to breathe, see, and think. And then, of course, there was the fact he could also apparently hear other people's thoughts. It was jarring to have random strains of thought that weren't his entering his brain. He had to figure out how to control his new power so that it didn't drive him to insanity. However, he had more important matters to attend to. He finally stops, focusing on directing his message to the city at large.]

Someone told me that the gods talk to us a lot. Our gods aren't exactly the most chatty, so I'm not sure if I buy it. Which one of them are we supposed to talk to if we don't belong here? [His fingers seem to be reaching forward to push some buttons on the keyboard, still experimenting.]

If I can’t get an answer for that question, then how about this: who's actually right in this war?

[There's a lot more he'd like to say, but as it is he's going to stop and just wait. Come on, Asgard. Give him options.]