Video

[blade_of_resolve]

[Well...
this certainly wasn't what he expected.

Having fallen asleep in his cell, and woken up in a completely new place, Erhard was admittedly confused as to this. Had they moved him in his sleep? That made no sense: they'd never done so before.
And this pain in his back... He turned to check, and was...a bit surprised to see wings.
Well, this was odd.
Examining his surroundings, he found the video journal, and, figuring it was the best course of action, turned it on.]

Is it on?

Excuse me, but could someone tell me what's going on? Am I being held here to do an operation?
Also, these wings...


Player Name: Dassa
Are you new?: Yes
Character Name: CR-S01/Erhard Muller
Character Fandom: Trauma Team

Action/video

[relentless_sentinel]

[...This was not home.

Nephenee looked around frantically at her surroundings, and called out:]

H-hello? Ma?

[This was bad. She stood up from where she had awoken, calling her siblings names as well. Nothing. And what was this pain in her...

Wings.

What.

Eventually, after she stopped freaking out, she spotted the recording device, she stared at the box for the longest time before pressing any buttons. It made a small noise, and a tiny screen flashed on. Frowning, she poked it. Unknowingly, it had turned on.]

Uh...what is this here thing...



Player Name: Dassa
Are you new?: Y
Character Name: Nephenee
Character Fandom: Fire Emblem

[Action/Video]

[ex_vorbarra50]

[Not necessarily every day Luceti gets an emperor incognito running around. Or really, just walking around with the slightest slump as if to carefully disguise his military upbringing. He's pretty good at it, too. He appears to be soaking things in, his black-and-silver wings folded as tightly as possible against his back, betraying a heck of a lot of tension in this new and nervous environment. Green foliage betrays Earth; ergo, Luceti must be somewhere on Earth. Held by someone who has a use for a twenty-five-year-old foreign mascot head of state. Could be anyone. Simon Illyan must be having conniptions. He can't even imagine his Prime Minister.

He doesn't expect to be recognized by galactics. Barrayar is so backwoods by galactic standards that he'd be a lot more surprised if he was recognized. Still, his name itself is plenty widespread--not everyone has a planet named after their family--so it'd be best to use the Bleakman alias he'd cooked up while trying to go to sleep.

Still. Wings. If this makes him count as a mutant, his anxieties over being Emperor are officially moot. There's a disturbing amount of comfort in that.

Round and round he goes, getting dizzier and dizzier from hunger until he finally heads into Seventh Heaven and offers to work to pay for food.

Imagine his surprise.

Other than that, he'll be around town, starting no conversations, examining things a little too long, and mostly looking preternaturally blank. Or, to some eyes, just plain glum.

At some point, he'll finally say something over the journals, which are easy enough to figure out.]

Excuse me. [The slightest lift to one eyebrow as he realizes how weird and liberating it feels to address a question to an entire network of people without a full security team, monitors, holoprompter, etc.] Is anyone looking for hired help?

Player Name: Tori
Are you new?: No!
Character Name: Gregor Vorbarra
Character Fandom: The Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMaster Bujold