[ (1) Action]

[if you’re strolling by the waterfall in one of the parks early this morning, you might catch sight of a hooded figure, draped in voluminous, heavily-embroidered white robes, kneeling beside it. Is it somebody squeaking in a bit of meditation before they start their day?]

[not quite. There’s a welcome basket sitting next to them, with the contents undisturbed except for the open bag of pretzels… and what is that they’re praying over? A communicator? That earpiece looks a bit strange, and the screen isn’t shaped quite right, either. And there’s something else: three large, articulated metal tendrils, emerging from folds in the back of this person’s robes, are hovering around the device. Two have some kind of specialized attachments on their ends, but all three are tipped with a good-sized claw, and these are opened menacingly towards the communicator, twitching a bit.]

[OOC: Felicia refuses to put on the communicator until she’s put it through some close scrutiny and cleansing rituals, so tag in with “(1) Action” in the subject line to interrupt her and say good morning! She won’t understand you, of course, but you can still give it a shot. (Only folks from outside her canon tag this option, please!)]

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[Video | (2) Action]

[the scene on the video does a nauseating summersault of blue, green, and white as Felicia turns the communicator over in her hands, but resolves itself into a view of the grassy hillock beside the waterfall once she clips the device over the sleek augmetic that serves her for a right ear. Felicia herself, now front and center, gives a cautious, yet friendly smile to whoever may be watching.]

Well! A vox, pictscreen, and translator, all at once—what an intriguing little piece of heretek this is! Completely unsanctified, of course. Any devout servant of the Omnissiah would break it to pieces in an instant. But, as it seems I’d hardly be able to get anything done without the thing, perhaps some transgressions may be pardoned, under the circumstances. Isn’t there another soul here who speaks proper Gothic?
[she chuckles dryly]

Oh dear, but I am getting ahead of myself. Magos Felicia Tayber of Perlia, reporting. To ask the first of innumerable questions, now that I’ve a way of reaching a wider audience: just where, in the name of the Emperor, have I fetched up? On what warp-cursed rock the Eloquois Ocean is located on, I’m afraid I haven’t the foggiest.

[OOC: put “Video” or “(2) Action” in the subject line for this option. Cain and Gaunt, tag in here!]

[The feed begins, and anyone who knows Edgar would more than likely to be a bit confused to hear him as this. His tone is polite and formal, but overly so, and cold. Anyone who knows him particularly well (i.e. probably no one here) would recognize that he’s clearly quite angry and upset at something – but keeping it covered somewhat well.]

I have come to understand that we are all being held prisoner here, and many of us under false or at least questionable charges. It has also been said that this place is inescapable, and going to be our collective home for the foreseeable future. Therefore, it only makes sense to work together in this endeavor.

As such, allow me to introduce myself. I am Edgar Figaro. I look forward to working with you all.

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[Since he's restrained, this morning will find him in the dining hall, eating breakfast, likely near the other restrained inmates. He does not look particularly pleased with the situation, but he doesn't seem to be taking it out on anyone at the moment. Care to interrupt him?]