[It's taken Isaac longer to pull himself together, so you'll excuse him for being late to the intro party. Well, if you want to get technical, he hasn't pulled himself together at all. He's only been temporarily calmed down, and the weary man that appears on the video feed is clearly still very anxious. He's thin and disheveled, probably in need of some sleep, and nervously biting at his fingernails. It takes him a moment to speak, and when he does, it's in a very soft, shaking voice.]

What do I have to do to get them to take me home?

[He swallows thickly, tightly clenching his hand closed.]

Please--there's something important that I still need to do.

[Left the stove on, gotta let himself be killed, really no difference. Isaac is an odd one. He pauses, shakes his head, and lets out a soft chuckle.]

No, of course not. That would take some luck, wouldn't it?

( It could be worse. That's how she reassures herself, turning the device over for a final time for snapping it on, eyeing it with a seriousness that, if you know her outside her rank as officer, might be a little surprising. She doesn't speak right away, but the hand that isn't holding the device flexes, desperate to fiddle with her dog tags and relieve some of the lurking anxieties.

When she speaks, it's clear spoken, and surprisingly polished. Very English, really, which might not be especially unusual here, but is a little odd almost anywhere but the capital, back home. )

This is Starling. Repeat: this is Starling, Kapetan Grumley of the Asgardreid igsb-3. Any members of the Midgard Corps should report to me immediately.

( Carefully enunciated, and bluntly delivered, and that's all she'll release, for now, giving the device another look and her mouth quirking a little before she snaps it off. There's more information to be picked off other posts to this device without exposing her confusion, because seriously. Seriously, you guys. )

If anyone currently in the oxygen gardens could look around for Simon Silverton, designation zero zero two, zero twenty-nine, Caucasian male, teenaged, brown hair, and report back to me with a status, that would be appreciated. [The tone is clipped, military, and leaves no room for nonsense.]




Private to Simon;( Read more... )