[the image clicks on to a blonde kid who somehow manages to look like he just stepped out of the 90s despite the regulation jump suit. he's got his feet kicked up on something and he's looking at the communicator like he's watching TV]

So I get that this is probably part of the suspense and everything, but come on. The Birds had a better set up than this, and it wasn't even scary.

Is anyone gonna share what's behind door number one? Or is this, like, you guys are all dead so we need to find an abandoned assault rifle and come down there ourselves?

Come on, work you piece of garbage-

[Looks like someone has been trying to post to the network for a while now, finally getting in. He looks, on edge to say the least.]

Alright, so, I've got no idea if I'm coming in loud and clear, but this is Isaac Clarke. I was trapped like a few others were in the cooridors for a while. But- I got to this room.

Wasn't the worst thing I've ever seen, but it sure didn't put me at ease.

"Don't believe everything they tell you." That ring any bells with anyone else? I can't seem to find the room again now, what the hell...

If anyone gets this, a response would be just peachy. Clarke out.

[End Feed.]

[The first time the video clicks on, the feed is extraordinarily distorted. Did Asato do something to break his communicator or jam its signal somehow? He raises his voice to speak and sounds alarmed, to whatever extent he could be heard to people viewing this transmission. The sound is mostly garbled nonsense and sometimes it cuts out altogether, hissing into static before returning to the previous glitchy message, over which the Ribika's voice can be heard steadily rising, as if yelling louder might make the transmission more clear.

Among what one might possibly make out from this transmission are the words "help" and "not right".]

Don't believe--

[And then it cuts out again, for a rather long period of time. When Asato transmits his next message, the quality is once again crystal clear, permitting a view of a Ribika who is obviously quite disconcerted by what he's just experienced. His fur is still standing on end, but his voice, when he speaks, is back to its usual, low timbre--though he can't hide a tinge of fear from creeping in when he speaks.]

Something is very wrong.

It appears we have a predicament.

[ The voice is familiar--if you've heard Robert Capa's voice, you'll no doubt recognize it. Same words, same slight lilt to it--different vocabulary, of course, but the rest remains the same. ]

Given the...circumstances... I'm going to offer my help, should you need it.

[ He flicks the video screen on--and sure enough, Capa with neater hair, a cleaner face, and a pair of glasses, and a level stare. ]

My name is Jonathan Crane, I'm was a psychologist at Arkham Asylum in Gotham City, should any of you have heard of it. Doubtful. If anyone is having problems, by all means, feel free to contact me. If someone you know seems to be under mental duress--though I realize we all are--please let me know. I'm here to help as many people as I can.



OOC: I don't want Crane's identity to be quite so obvious, so if you want to recognize Gotham and Arkham and all of that, or bring up Batman, please do! But no fourth walling Crane himself, if you don't mind. :3

[she's barely muttering 'interesting' to herself, low under her breath, before she clears her throat]

I want a status report from all Freelancers. Is everyone back? Did any of you enter that room? If so, what did you see?