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[the feed begins, showing a woman with red hair, fair skin, teal irises, and scarlet glasses, glaring so intensely at the camera you'd think she was trying to burn it with her eyes. she's absolutely unhappy with the current situation for several reasons, the first being--]

I am sure someone is viewing this, and who ever is should know where the hell I am. If this is supposed to be paradise for the dead, this is the poorest rendition of it I've ever seen. And trust me, I've heard of one with Faygo rivers and trees that grow special stardust. I believe I'd take that over this.

[even after their subtle betrayal, she'd take the damn clowns' idea of heaven, and all the clowns in it. at least then she'd be in her own body, and would understand so much more about it.]

The matter of where can be addressed with ease, as can the matter of why I'm here, how I was brought, and who did so. What I do not understand is the "what" of things. Particularly, what am I? Am I some sort of slug? A strange relative of the cholerbear? Is this what reincarnation really is? If it is, I think I would've been more content as a ghost.

[she gives a thoughtful pause, then softens slightly. her answers would come in due time. they always did. no need to be so upset... her gaze focuses back onto the camera, but this time it is not so harsh.]

If anyone has any information regarding any of my questions, please contact me as soon as possible. I am willing to work with anyone who has an idea of what is happening to me. [her calm facade shifts into something a bit more manic, a grin suddenly splitting her face.] And if anyone has any intelligence on the pirate, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, please report it to me as well. [for what reasons? none that could be too good. before the feed ends, redglare winks, and offers few parting words:]

A good evening to you. Until we meet again.

[end feed.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[??!?!?!!???!?!]

I look like a human... [she extends her hand and looks at it for a moment. it's. pinkish. it's so weird.] I'm not human. I'm a troll. [that's the most clever joke anyone could make... if they weren't so serious. but she is.]

A troll. [ she repeats it. it's a mostly unfamiliar concept, but the word sticks in her memory from some long ago childhood tale. ]

Are you sure?

[try alien race hellbent on conquering the stars.]

Absolutely. I wouldn't lie about what I am when I cannot afford to.

...Okay.

[ fine. be a troll. ]

You're stuck here so you might as well get used to it.

[well, wouldn't she like to be.]

I figured as such. Nothing around here budges. Are all the doors and windows this stubborn?

And does this planet have a sun? Or does the atmosphere never let it through?

Yes to the doors and windows - I don't know about the rest. I'm not sure where we are. Earth, probably. If so, then yes.

Ah yes, Earth. The dirt planet. [she thinks these aliens are so humorous. and rather adorable. like little squeakbeasts she'd keep as pets.]

What else is there? Trapdoors? Ladders that lead up? Fences to jump over? Portals that only respond to certain words?

[ dirt planet? she feels like she must be missing some sort of inside joke ]

I think I would have noticed ladders or trapdoors but I haven't really been looking for portals. [ whatever a portal is. ]

You would think, but even the most trained eye misses things.

Portals might be a good thing to look out for. How else would we be getting here?

[ she shrugs. she's not a science expert! ]

I haven't figured it out yet.

No? Has anyone?

[cashmere might not be the expert, but someone who specialises in interdimensional logistics has to be at the hotel. it's not her, of course, but she knows a little bit about the science of transportalisers.]

I have my suspicions on the portals, of course. I want to know if they're right.

I think if they'd figured it out we wouldn't still be here.

[ unless... her brow furrows. she's just remembered they are down a few residents. ]

There are some people who were here before who are now... not here. No one seems to know where they went.

Is that so?

[colour her curious. people are brought here, then thrown away. but where do they go? and how do they go? she can't help but smirk at this development-- their management is growing more interesting, and certainly fearsome, as the seconds pass.]

Perhaps they knew what to look for, and took the knowledge with them. I do not know the nature of your species, but I doubt "altruistic" is high on the common traits list.

[ it feels a little like an insult, and the furrowing of her brow says Cashmere's not exactly sure how to take that. after a consideration, she nods. ]

That's true.

[oh, cashmere. ohhhh, cashmere. if it had been an insult, it would've been much more clever. though, all redglare does is grin in return. good to know selfishness is not beneath these creatures...]

Perhaps you and I [it's rather early to be forming alliances, but one might say it's never too early to do so.] can find someone here that is both intelligent and selfless. [if they can be sent home, and they have the true knowhow, perhaps they can determine beyond the where. maybe they can determine the when.]

[ alliances she understands. a lot of her life has been built around them. she nods. ] Well, I'm willing to give it a shot.

[ because she really doesn't believe that things will stay peaceful for long. ]

Excellent. It'll be easier to accomplish something if there are multiple people on the task.

[while redglare isn't worried about the state of peace, she doesn't know how long her second chance at life will be. a preemptive strike is absolutely necessary. though, perhaps it would be best if she knew who her allies were. at least she should know--]

I don't believe I caught your title.

Title? [ she's just going to guess on what the appropriate answer for that is. ] My name is Cashmere. My title doesn't matter much here but at home I'm a Victor.

[cashmere? inexplicably, "sweater weather" by the neighbourhood plays in her head.]

Do humans go by their hatchname, and not their given title? [then what good was a title if no one used it?! would she have to use her hatchname too? no. NEVER. but there something more interesting than any of that.]

A Victor? Of what?

[ that would be a new one, usually she gets "clever" gifts.

hatchname though... ]

Cashmere is the name my parents gave me. I'm a Victor because I won the Hunger Games. It's a fight to the death.

Parents? What is that?

[her eyebrows furrow together, and she thinks that she should make a list-- there are many differences between her and these humans. while the words come to her tongue naturally, the meanings and translations aren't always seamless.

there was much to learn about these creatures, especially since she was one of them.

the death bit doesn't even faze her. in fact, she doesn't look shocked, or even impressed. instead, redglare appears a bit confused.]

...Is fighting to death not common for you?

Uh - older humans who raised me when I was a small human.

[ birds and the bees discussion avoided?? maybe?? at least she can handle this question about fighting. ]

Only when we're at war and not for children - which I was.

Older humans raised you? [scandalous. how were these humans not dead? were they actually tender in heart and spirit, as well as flesh?] Did you not have a lusus? [since "parents" were strange to her, it's only fair to clarify what a "lusus" is for cashmere.] It's an animal guardian that raises you and teaches you how to survive. [then, with a bit of pride:] My lusus was a most magnificent dragon.

[again, she's absolutely nonplussed. dead kids? dead anythings? were these people afraid of murder? perhaps they had not evolved far enough...]

I'm going to guess a child is a small human. Similar to a grub for my kind. [she pauses, trying to figure out how to word this next part without sounding like an ass.] Do your... children not fight to assert themselves as genetically dominant? Are they like lapbarkbeasts?

That's what parents are for, and the Academy. My parents are clever but they're not fighters. [ not quite dragons, either. though she wonders where one comes from if they don't have parents. you still have to be born, don't you? ]

Uh - yeah. Probably like a grub. [ lap what? is that some sort of pet? ] Humans aren't supposed to enjoy fighting. You usually do it because you have to. Even if you do like it [ and she does, if she's honest ] you're not supposed to enjoy killing.

The Academy? Your parents didn't teach you to fight, but a school did? [a bit unorthodox, if lusii and parents were comparable. but if she survived her training without previous help, then she a powerful woman... natural talent counted for something.

of course, if cashmere should ever ask about troll reproduction, she'll be more than happy to lie ten times before giving the most ridiculous answer of all: the truth.

she nods, understanding that humans have a gentler nature than she's used to. which is... unfortunate. but it's quite lucky that she's found herself a killer.] Your dirt planet seems to be a comfortable, cushy place to live. You don't fight unless you must. Your own kind raises you... I don't know if I like this human way of life, if I am not permitted to the thrill of delivering justice.

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