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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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[ So just casually checking the network here. Nothing to see. Same as always with his ankles crossed over each other and a look of nonchalance as he rests his head on his hand.

And then he chances upon this which nearly makes his head slip from his hand. But he straightens up almost immediately. ]

Mister Sutcliffe?! Cor, I was worrying my arse off! Knew there wasn't a chance in heaven or hell I was alone here.

[ His panic's calmed down though. ]

All right there? Where are you? Could come get you if you like.

[ But there's the smallest pout however as he rests his head back on his hand. ]

S'not a toy by the way. It's my Death Scythe and she's perfectly suited for my needs, if you don't mind.

[ And after a moment's thought. ]

And there's nothing unfortunate about my hair! It's distinct, I'll have you know.

Do you know about that letter?

[Angry Leon is angry. He just finished rebuilding his world, dammit, he's not going to lose it again!]

Are you one of mister Ronald's friends sir?

[He isn't sure, and he swore to protect mister Ronald so he needs to make sure this person means him no harm.]

[Good thing she thought to check the network terminals in her dormitory hallway, as soon as she got up. Which...isn't at all early, considering she kept herself awake, attempting to plan her next move, if it should happen that she was wrong, and Ronald hasn't turned up anywhere.

The feeling of relief, when she sees him, is astronomical. Not only because she's glad he's all right, but because it seems to prove her theory that they didn't make it safely out of the Campania incident.

But she doesn't bother with letting silly things like thank God you're alive show on her face, and just beams her sharp-toothed grin at him. It looks all the more demented, for her rumpled, slept-in clothing, and the loose strands of her hair fraying out of her braid.]

Of course there wasn't any chance, darling. I've left off plenty of work, in my life, but I wouldn't let you get yourself lost, now, would I? I'm on the first floor of the dormitories. Make it quick, if you're coming by. I have ever so many things to say to you, and half the day is gone, already. Hmph.

[She just waves away his concern about her commentary on his hair and his lawn mower.]

I'll have you know, it isn't polite to sit there and complain, when you have a lady waiting.

[As she's now waiting for Ronald, and doesn't want him to startle her into making any ridiculous faces on camera, when he shows up...Grell's replying to the rest of her messages via text.]

Of course I do~ It's obvious, isn't it? Well, for me, anyway. I don't know about your mental faculties, at all. An attractive man like you, I'd be surprised if you did have it sorted. Sigh, looks and brains so rarely go together. Wouldn't you agree? ♥

No, I suppose you wouldn't. And look at me, blathering on like I have nothing to do, but listen to myself talk~. To cut to the point, if my circumstances are any indication of the whole: you're dead, chum. Your world may be intact, heaven only knows, but you, my dear, have shuffled your feet right off that mortal coil.

[She really does like to listen to herself talk. Or read her own writing, as the case may be.]

[And now she's done it, Leon will follow suit. ~~also, sorry I forgot to label the last tag, it's been too long since I've been on the network~~]

So you only know what happens in your world, not this one?

[Replying via text, while she waits for Ronald. Even though he can't see her, she gives the question a considerable roll of her eyes.]

"Friend" sounds so plebeian, doesn't it? If we can assume "friend" to mean, in this case, that the dear boy is my subordinate, and I won't be pleased at all with the consequences, if I don't get him back, then yes, of course, I'm one of ~Mister Ronald's~ friends.

[Actually, he's one of Grell's best friends, she's just not keen on admitting as much to a building full of people she's never met in her life.]

Do I look clairvoyant, to you? See, I knew you weren't terribly clever. Flattering, perhaps - and it is quite flattering, you know. Seeing the future, other worlds, the innermost workings of the hearts beating around me... It's romantic, isn't it? But alas, I'm not possessed of any such powers~. - but not terribly clever. Such a shame.

Anyway. The last thing I remember could have ended in my death. Ronald was with me. He's here, as well. It's not unreasonable to assume, as tragic~ as it might be, that we were tied inexorably together by death, is it? And if that were true for two of us, is it really illogical to assume it must be true on a wider scale? Would it not be more ridiculous, to think we're all here for different reasons? That's absurd.

whats a subordinate? and what does plebian mean? hes here though, hes really nice

For all I know, you could run this entire place. Usually when people are cocky enough to taunt, they actually know the answer. [Yeah, Leon, um... society doesn't work that way.]

I didn't die to come here. Unless I somehow contracted a fatal illness in my sleep.

[Cue dramatic sigh. So dramatic, in fact, that she's going to type it out.]

SIGH. He works for me, you know? Well, all right, you have me in half of a lie, there. Ronnie works under me. We work for someone else.

I do hope that's a sincere question. Plebeian: common. Uncultured, uninteresting, run of the mill, ofttimes vulgar. Next you're going to be asking me what "ofttimes" is, aren't you?

I do know the answer. It's the only one that makes any sense. Anyone who'd like to argue is only making himself out to be a fool.

You've said it, right there. If you were sleeping, how would you know? Have you got enemies? Someone could have done it for you, as easy as that. Did you eat before you went to bed? Drink? Poisoned. There are an awful lot of ways to die, dear. And maybe your world did blow up, crack in half, descend into chaos, or whatever it's done. You wouldn't very well be alive then, would you?

I've already seen my world die once, and I was the one who brought it back. I'd know if it happened again.

Don't make me laugh so hard, on an empty stomach. Really! It's too much.

That's ridiculous. Are you clairvoyant, now? You're not there, anymore, in case you haven't noticed.

Worlds die when the Darkness overtakes them. It isn't a snap consumption; you have hours before it's taken completely. I once lived in a world filled with no one but the people who escaped their destroyed worlds. Maybe I did die in my sleep, but following your logic, every universe is identical to every other universe in execution and destruction.

~

Hmph, only if you believe time is linear, which it most certainly~ is~ not~. My world could have gone the way of the dodo thousands of years before yours, and it wouldn't make any difference to our arrival times, here.

And when did I say they were all destroyed, anyway? I said we were dead, and maybe universal destruction was how you got that way. Frankly, I think you've been poisoned. By a lover! Or a lover's lover. It's more interesting, that way. Which do you suppose it is? Do tell.

I don't have any lovers.

[Yeah, he's about ready to wring this lunatic's neck over the Network.]

Oh, that's what you're going to get an attitude about? After I insulted your intelligence, and proved every one of your flimsy little theories wrong? You're angry at the implication that someone might want to spend time with you?

...On second thought, I'm angry at that implication. Cue me striking such awful jokes from the record. Imagine, if you will, that I never allowed myself the lapse in judgment that permitted such awful things to flow from my fingers.

Ah~. Much better. ♥

[Leon, don't even try. She absolutely lives for people attempting to physically attack her. You'll only make her happy.]

I never got an 'attitude' about anything. It's text. Maybe I actually meant what I said, and don't have any lovers.

No, dear, you probably don't. It was hypothetical, anyway. I can see how any number of folks could want to remove~ you from their lives.

who do you work for sir? [He read the next bit, sounding the word out loud to remember it.]

is it like sometimes? i dont think friends are uninteresting or vulgar or uncultured. Friends are nice sir!

....a lawnmower is a toy?

Of course it is, what does it look like? Chainsaws are rather nicer, though, wouldn't you agree?

It's "ma'am," if you please. I'll answer that when you've got it right.

That's because you're...however old you are, darling. You look quite small. Too small to know, I'm afraid. Having a friend is a terrible, boring, and time-consuming business that would take precious hours away from the hours I have to myself, should I choose to engage in it. Which I don't. Ronnie is the closest thing I have, to a friend, and he's...certainly not that.

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