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[When the video feed first comes up, it's silent, and also not quite centred. Grell speaks for a moment, before realizing her microphone is muted, and depresses the button to correct the problem. There's an exaggerated look of disgust on her face; it's been nearly twenty-four hours since she woke up, alone, in her room, and it's taken her this long to figure out how to get a mass message out. She probably could have asked for help, but hey. She's stubborn.

Settling back into her seat, she waves briefly, without much energy, to the camera. The only thing that has gone "right," today, is finding her own clothes, in the trunk by the foot of her bed. She pulls her braided hair forward over her shoulder, before she speaks.]

I know some of you must think this letter is having a big laugh at your expense, right?

[Grell holds up her own, and then smacks it lightly back down on the counter.]

That's fine. Think whatever you like, and we'll see who's really laughing, won't we? In the meantime, I'm looking for someone. His name is Ronald Knox. Overly cheerful, with really unfortunate hair? He's got a ridiculous toy he's rather fond of. It looks like this.

[She flips the sheet of paper over, and holds up a terrible drawing of a lawn mower.]

We worked together. I have every reason to believe the both of us took a page from Ophelia's book, and drowned, during our last assignment. He was my responsibility. If any of you have seen him, do let me know. I'll be in the first floor dormitories.

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[What is going on with this girl's face? Grell doesn't exactly interpret it as barely composed hunger, but she does observe that it takes the face on the other end of the video feed half a beat to stop looking like she's staring. After as argumentative as everyone else has been, after as long as she's sat here, waiting for more familiar faces to show up, she is not particularly in the mood for what she perceives as staring at her, to the point of having to visibly compose oneself.

If she was in a better mood, Grell would have probably observed nicer things, like the fact that she and the girl on the video both have miles of hair, and unnaturally pointy teeth, but she isn't, and doesn't. She rolls her eyes, instead, attempting to look even more disgusted than what she actually is.]

It's Miss Sutcliff. Has Ronald not made friends with any of you? Does no one know his schedule? No one bothers to check and see what he's got up to? Frankly, I'm not surprised. I wouldn't, either, if they wouldn't have my head, for losing him.

[And that's being dramatic. She does care about where he is, and at this point she's already found him, anyway, and is only waiting to see him, so it's a moot point.]

_{[Whoa. Touchy touchy. If Marceline was as irritable as she had been when first arriving here, she'd have probably just turned off the screen, walked away, and played her bass until someone either confronted her or until she felt better, whichever came first.

At this point though, fighting isn't on her list of things to do today, unless it's her v. the monsters roaming about. And this lady, she'll have to make a point to remember that contrary to how Ronald had referred to her, is most certainly not one of those. She has to wonder if she's a vampire as well, honestly, with those teeth.]}

Sorry, was just what I was told. And I haven't had much of a chance to make friends with him. It was a chance run-in in the cafeteria, not that I wouldn't like to talk to him more.

By "them" I'm guessing you mean the board? He mentioned them.

[You know, Grell thinks, she really needs to have a talk with Ronald, if they're going to be stuck in this tower for awhile. If she's going to have to correct every single person who's spoken to him, that's a whole lot of effort and wasted time, out of a day better used attempting to plot their escape. But she guesses she can't be too hard on him. What's she supposed to expect? It's not like anyone at home listens to her, when she tells them she's a woman.

Much less apologizes, which...it does occur to her that everyone she's had to correct, here, has done. Which is weird. A weird enough realization, actually, that it jars her out of being completely, intentionally unpleasant, for half a second.]

What am I going to do with him? I tell him, and he doesn't listen at all. He's absolutely the worst subordinate. But he's my only one, so he's my favourite.

[She rests her elbow by the keyboard, and her chin in her hand.]

Yes, them. I just got off probation, mind; if I lose an employee, I'm sure to meet some dramatic end~.

_{[Well, that was almost honest sounding. It has Marceline a bit shocked for a bit, until she thinks about it. She probably wasn't entirely pleasant when she first arrived, and surely the way she played the bass all night didn't help boost her rating on the 'pleasant individual' scale.

Besides, she seems like she could be okay. Cool, at least. And she's new here, so that's not quite a lumping vacation. Then she catches the bit about favorite and that definitely jars her. That sounded too close to honesty to be anything but.]}

That's the fun thing about having a henchman, isn't it? Having to coerce them into doing what you want them to.

_{[She settles forward, as if on her stomach on her bed or something. Except she's just floating, no flat surface needed.]}

Yoikes. Well, he doesn't exactly look like everyone else, with that hair. Shouldn't be too hard to find if he hangs around the common areas.

Having to? You make it sound like such a chore. I'd just about die, if I had no one to boss around.

[Shock of all shocks, maybe this girls is all right. No really, it's shocking. For as many gripes as Grell has with working alongside, and therefore spending most of her time with, an office pretty much entirely made up of men, she's never gotten on particularly well with other women. Most of them, she thinks, are eyeroll-inducing to a painful level, petty, and idiotic. But this girl can talk minion keeping, apparently. That's a huge point in her favour.]

His hair. I've half a mind to mend it for him, while he's sleeping.

Depends on the henchman. I've had one I had to practically force to do what I told him to, until he wised up.

_{[She's not going to mention that he found out she was just pranking him though. Sounds more impressive, and it's close enough to the truth to work. It's kind of interesting, getting to talk to this girl. Back home she only has PB to bother, and while Bonnibel's fun to torment, all she does is host tea parties and do science and gunk. Not so entertaining, unless things explode. And they so rarely do. But this one, she doesn't seem to have the hang-ups on what's appropriate and what's not that others back home do, and that's definitely refreshing.]}

It's not the worst I've seen, really. Heck, I've probably done worse to mine. Not in dyeing or anything, just haircuts.

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((ah, i was wondering where you'd gone off to!))

((Sorry, been a bit of a bad week. Half-sick and then work. ><))

((that's ok, it has been for me, too))

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