We keep losing people. We did well against Thiazi but people still died, or have disappeared at some point.

( And that's sad. Sometimes they get mentioned publicly but not always. Sometimes it hurts too much )

They should be remembered. Everyone that's been here has helped us somehow to get ready for this war or has been in it. We should thank them, and hope that they're okay back home.

( She knows from talking to some that not everyone will be but hope and remembering a friend is nice )

Maybe the park? If someone could draw up candles or people just got together it would be nice. You could talk about them or just leave their name somewhere. Tomorrow, before curfew.

I'll be there early to wait.

So I woke up this morning and started to feel pretty uncomfortable in my god house. It's starting to get to the point now where I don't feel like I should be here.

( Except this is her house, right? Wrong. Lydia's new memories from home have resulted in her changing houses - from Odin to Hel, and she doesn't know it, or that it can happen )

So for anyone that's actually left here, has anyone felt unwanted in their home? Their house here, not in your world. I know it happens when you visit another house but this is my house.

Or is everything just getting messed up the more the war goes on?

( Thiazi's getting stronger and some guy's soul has been stolen. That's pretty messed up )

Just before I get started, just in case anyone wanted to say 'oh hey, Lydia, you're back'? I am but I'm not. I know that I've been here before, I was happily told that, but I don't remember it. So for anyone that did know me you might want to reintroduce yourself first.

Now that that's out of the way, I've been doing some reading. With everything that has happened and is supposed to I want to know what I'm going to be in for. Apparently that's not the easiest thing to do. Not concisely, anyway. But what's a network full of people for if not to help someone out?

One of the gods has died before and it saved us when we should have died. [ That she found out from the network rather than a book, helpful soul ] Have any of the others died or was it just this one? Because I'm assuming that we're still in a war, so what's happened since and why was that incident so different? Cliff notes version, preferably.

[ She'll get the longer version from her books later. Or from this next part ]

And if you did know me before? We need to have coffee. At least say hello.

Hey, guys, I got a few orders of business for you all.

First, I'm Fiona Gallagher. I'm the new secretary at the Albus Dumbledore Academy. Which I know doesn't sound the most exciting, but it means I'm the person you wanna go to for the little details and stuff. Like if your name's spelled wrong on your transcripts, or if you wanna switch courses? You wanna talk to me.

Also, if you wanna enroll, I can talk you through it. It's not a big thing, I mean, the credits don't exactly transfer. It's mostly for learning stuff if you want to. We've got all kinds of stuff, here, uh- [There's the sound of paper rustling; she's clearly looking over some sort of page:] Astronomy, alche- alchemy? [Whatever that is.] Self-defense, magic history, Egypt... Something about Egypt. Anyway, what I'm saying is, this isn't exactly public school.

And to anybody in the school, if you're a teacher or a student, it'd be great if you could introduce yourself and tell me what classes you're taking or teaching? I've got records, but I wouldn't mind doing a double check.

Anyway, second, anybody wanna haul some big a- [Don't swear!! Official work related network post, remember not to swear] some really big filing cabinets into the academy? I'll need 'em in the actual academy if they're gonna do us any good. Payment is traditional currency, you know, a six pack.

Okay, maybe a twelve pack in this weather.

And third, anybody wanna help teach me some of this magic crrrr-... this magic stuff? I have the plant power. I'll pay you.

[ooc lol i probably should have put this up earlier but this post is totally open to threadjacking if the need strikes o/]

[All things considered, this is really, really not the right time to be asking this question. A lot of things have happened in the last few days that have left him completely rattled, but if there's one thing Draco Malfoy is good at, it's compartmentalizing.

As such, despite the fact that he has Voldemort on his case, Severus is freaking out and there's the whole other set of issues with himself and Jade and the fact that people from home keep turning up, he's focused on something else entirely.

Loki. The god, not the traveler. On the one hand, he quite likes the trickster god if only because he can appreciate someone being cagey and taunting others. On the other hand, he really hates when it's being used against him. The god has given him a mission, and though he should be worried about other things that is his main focus.

…of course there were some things that were said during their conversation that have left him unsettled. Did he really not know how to have fun in this place anymore?

Honestly. That was just pathetic. It's even more pathetic that he can count his actual friends on both hands. That's…really, really not going to help him in this case. And because it's pathetic to him he's turning on the anonymous text feature for once.]

As I'm sure most of you have realized, this place is quite limiting, not to mention occasionally dangerous. [Here's looking at you, mirror-verse.] However, I've an important question to ask you all.

What do you do for fun in this place?

Inquiring minds wish to know, etcetera, etcetera.

[Now just let him sit back quietly and judge all of you as he thinks this through.]

Oh. And leave your name and which house you're in. You know. To make sure the answer isn't completely biased.

[Some time later, this list begins to pop up as well:

Odin: 3. Sigyn: 5. Freyr: 4. Loki: 2. Heimdall: 3. Hel: 3. Thor: 1. Baldr: 1]

[ Strange, how the peculiar hush unique to libraries is preserved even across the far-flung branches of Yggdrasil.

Loki is smiling in his singular way, with neither joy nor amusement to be found. He lounges in the simple chair as if enthroned, a sprawl of artless limb and glinting eye. To his left, a stack of books can be seen in the fringe of the screen, settled neatly one atop another. Arranged as carefully as Loki himself is.

And he shifts forward, filling the frame. Despite his best efforts, he last few days have proved fruitless for him: he has read and read and read again the paltry knowledge that the false-Allfather's house of books had held. He has gone through the network's history with a fine-toothed comb. He knows that he has neither anonymity or obscurity as his allies, though blessed be those in their naivete who would believe him thus crippled.

His smile quiets. ]

A curiosity to discuss, my fellow denizens of — [ his gaze flicks askance, his shoulders rising in a show of nonchalance ] — Asgard. All things must end, so that all things may begin again. Life. Death, also. It is the prescribed way, if one were to believe the philosophy of the Gods.

[ The Gods, he says, with no small amount of irony. ] Why, then, have we been harnessed and put to plow, as lowing cattle must be? You and he and she and Loki Silvertongue, too? Ragnarok will fall. The end of the world will come to pass, whether or not the false deities of this painted playhouse take yours and my freedom and make a mockery of all that we are.

Does it not fill you with rage?

[ In one swift movement, he draws his hands up, pressing them flat against the tabletop. His voice curls into a murmur. ]

Our rage heats in the same crucible. Let us not let it fall to waste.

[ behold, Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin is super impressed with you, Asgard.

Or, you know, not at all.

Earthquake? Kidnapping? Being held in parallel universes? she got it. she doesn't even seem disheveled. ]

Not that I intend to argue that belonging to House Odin isn't worth some sort of respect in Asgard's hierarchy. Seeing Odin is the ruler of Asgard, top of the godly food chain.

I suppose that if I had to be kidnapped by Norse Gods to fight a war I have a dubious relation to, the silver lining is definitely being in the house of the ruler who is often associated with a relentless search of power and is probably the first one to inspire that saying about knowledge and power which you all know by heart.

[ and if you don't, she judges you. ]

All of that said – a spiral slide in house Odin? Is basically like placing a ball pit in the middle of Oxford Library. It's not an oxymoron, Asgard, make no mistake. It's a Juxtaposition; and not even an impressive one, at that.

[Hello, Asgard. The entire city is treated to this lovely smiling visage.]
( Cut for image/gif )
Hey there, Asgard. So, after a lot of thought, I've come to realize I really need to get a job. Preferably not at a pet store.

[Sorry, Scott, but if he had to work around Isaac and Derek, it was likely there'd be some sort of war involving projectile puppies or kittens. No one wanted that, man. No one.]

A man needs to be able to buy the finer things in life. Maybe some of the not so fine things as well. I don't know what the job market's like out here, but Stiles needs some dough.

[He needed to be able to impress, not that it had ever helped him before.]

Is there a sign up place? A help wanted section? A newspaper? Ye olde job market? Come on, help a guy out. I shouldn't have to state the obvious, but heavy lifting isn't my strong suit. Neither is anything involving having to move. Or do things that require effort.

[Okay, so it wasn't that bad, but he wanted to make sure his potential employer had lowered expectations. He might need to slack off to help a certain best friend out and if no one expected anything from him, that gave him a lot of leeway.]

So, any takers?

[ The video is focused on this adorable little puppy, the one in the pink sweater. It sits on it, silently, for a minute or two before Lydia speaks, the video still on the dog ]

Her name is Chanel. She's cute, well behaved and the pink brings out her eyes. [ She's also all Lydia's, because even if Scott doesn't know it yet she's not letting anyone else buy this puppy

The video also now turns on to Lydia, and if you've seen the place before you'll notice that she's in Scott's pet shop. If you haven't been there before you may notice the rabbit pen behind her, with four little bunnies in it. They don't have sweaters - yet ]

And because there are new people here, some that might get to stay, I thought I'd take the opportunity to do a little advertising. [ She sounds pleasant, and perhaps a little sweeter than normal, but it's her advertising - she wants people to come and buy the pets, and prove to Scott that he didn't make a mistake giving her a job ]

If you're looking for a pet, or a friend is, then you should come to Allison's. It's not just dogs, any small animal that you want we have. [ She says any. Any from her world, anyway. The normal stuff ] And if you want something else then just leave a request and Scott will get on it. [ Will he? He will now ]

But I'd get on it quickly before they all sell out. [ And she may will push the hard sell ]

[ So there is one (1) strawberry blonde girl who looks rather casually lounged out. Looks it, at least. She's still uncomfortable about being there, and her room is nothing compared to being at home, and it's all a little creepy, so there's nothing quite so comfortable about Lydia - minus her front. It's a good poker face

She leaves the video hanging for a moment before she speaks, carefully choosing her words, and perhaps adjusting her already perfect hair a little ]

You know, if I'd been invited this might have been a nice vacation. Might have. [ Her friends might be here but arriving without them, and rather confused, was not her idea of nice. Or ideal ] I suppose it could feel like Europe.

Though as much as I'd like to deny all of this [ and believe her, she's tried ] apparently I can't. [ Although she might still try... or just ignore what she can ] Sadly. This is not how I was hoping this year would go.

So. Kidnapping Gods and wild stories aside... I need to shop. We need to shop. [ Allison, that was your invitation. And yes, she's not even been here 24 hours and she already needs to shop. Coping at its finest ] And see somewhere a little more... tasteful. [ Or pretty and sparkly. She doesn't quite want to explore but she would like to know her way around ]

Please tell me there's more than the lame tourist gifts. [ Like actual shops. And clothes. Prada would be nice, too. And feel free to suggest a shop. There's only a 75% chance she'll ignore it ]

[Through quite a bit of trial and error and button pushing, Robin has managed to access the video feed.

He can be seen with a piece of wood in his hands that he is using to create a bow. It looks rather rough, but he is confident enough in his bow-crafting abilities that it will work by the time he has finished with it.

He has only recently arrived in Asgard, but the main question on his mind right now has less to do with wars, the gods, or being taken away from everything he knows. No, he considers this question of extreme importance, and that is why he is addressing the network.]

Tell me, is there an archery range to be found around here?

[Because Robin Hood's skills are too great to be allowed to fall into disuse.]

[ If looks could kill, anyone on the receiving end of the feed would have to say their prayers and wish for the best. While her eyes vaguely hint with a vague, possible murderous intent, she appears relatively calm and composed for someone who's just been kidnapped and prepping for a rant, albeit her tone has a certain venomous edge to it.

She purses her lips, tilting her head to observe the bracelet. ]

One word: tacky. You would think gods would at least be able to afford Tiffany's. What, is this place just filled with criminally awful fashion choices?

[ Priorities. She rakes a hand through her hair, trying to will away the exhaustion that seeps into her voice. ]

Okay, right. Norse gods who recruit teenagers and elven soldiers, apparently. [ Guess who did her homework by briefly browsing the important posts on the network? ] Even if the rest of this little performance sounds like a bad plot for a B-rated fantasy movie, forebodingly talking about preparing for battle like it's at our doorstep — their doorstep — isn't very comforting.

[ She pauses, raking a hand through her hair and biting her lip to stifle an approaching frown or fatigued sigh. ]

Serious question here. Since we can't click our heels three times and leave of our own free will, does this place have any redeeming qualities?