| 003 | VIDEO |

[briefly]

Let me start this by saying that I feel absolutely silly for having not thought of doing this a long, long time ago, but - well. That's obviously not longer the case. But I ought to get it out of the way anyhow.

[a breath.]

Katherine Stewart.

Marguerite Chadwick.

Stanley Chadwick.

Anthony Proud.

Delphine Gaudin.

Emilia Gorski-Grumley.

[With a little tension in her voice-] Julia Grumley.

[And after a pointed pause, exhaling again - this name is the hardest to say.] And Frederick Grumley.

I don't suppose anyone here has seen either of these people. Or - is any of these people? Who knows how long I've been here, but considering how long we've all been here, I... I thought it couldn't hurt to ask. If I'm here, chances are one of them might be, too. Not that it would be ideal, but I'd rather know about it.

[Read: she misses them. And she's worried about them. So there you have it.]

Thank you.

Comments

[briefly]

What was your friend's name? [She knows most of their names, even if she and Jules don't really get along. Ever.] Was she all right?

[sweetmotherofgod]

Hotspur. I mean - his name was Max, Max Southey, but nobody called him that. I guess he didn't like it much, always introduced himself as Hotspur. He served under her back home, I think.

[She chews at her lip a moment, because that second question - wow, now she feels selfish.]

I'm not really sure about what happened to her. I'm sorry. He died, and I kinda stopped paying attention. Were you close?

[briefly]

Max Southey. [Huh. Deep thoughts.] Doesn't ring a bell.

[Damn. But if Jules worked for him, she must have been her... editor? Yep, must be it.

Except wait what]

He died? [NOT AS PLANNED] She's my - well, she's my boyfriend's sister.

[There's a pause. Her hand settles over her mouth.]

My God, I hope she's all right.

[sweetmotherofgod]

He was alone when it happened, so she would have been safe. And the way he went was pretty rough, but... I don't know. She always seemed pretty together, and you know military folk. They're trained to deal with the bad stuff, right?

[Pure speculation. Heather has no idea of how the military works and what their training involves. Especially not in The Future. But that'd be a given, right? You can't just train people to kill other people and not teach them how to deal with that properly, it'd just be irresponsible.]

[briefly]

I, [er. Military? Jules is just a writer, as far as she knows.] I suppose they are, but... I don't see how military has anything to do with it-? Unless I'm missing something.

[sweetmotherofgod]

Uh - well, she was... a Captain, I think. Starling?

[Okay. This is weird. Same faces and different names she's used to by now. Same names and different people - well, that's a hell of a lot more normal back home, but mostly new to her here. Except for people like Sherlock Holmes and Tony Stark, but those assholes are so complicated they probably needed to be two people anyway.]

Dark hair and like, super, super pretty?

[briefly]

[A what now.]

Uhm. [Super pretty. That's relative.] ... Yes, I suppose. Pointy nose, sharp features overall, about this tall? [Signaling with her hand.] Loves wine just a bit too much-?

Did she ever mention a brother?

[sweetmotherofgod]

Um? Sharp-ish, I guess? Height seems about right, but I never heard her talk about a brother.

[Pause, and Heather's smile gets just a little amused.]

Or wine.

[briefly]

[Weird of her not to mention Freddie, she's pretty much obsessed with being his sister.]

Emilia? Her children? Anyone?

[sweetmotherofgod]

[Whose children? Starling's children??? Did not see that coming.]

No, just Hotspur. And the... Midgard Corps? I figure that was their unit, or whatever. But like I say, I didn't talk to her a whole lot myself.

[briefly]

... I don't believe that's the same Julia I know, then. I've never heard of any of this.

[sweetmotherofgod]

Right, that - that makes sense. I just thought with the name, and the accent... It's weird though, you know? We get people here with the same faces but hardly ever the same names.

False alarm, I guess. Sorry.

[briefly]

Suppose it's for the best. [Let's be honest - out of all these people, Julia is probably the last she'd want to see. And vice-versa.] I do hope she's all right, though.

[sweetmotherofgod]

Mine or yours?

[Entertained. She's kinda getting the impression that whether it's the same woman or not, this Julia isn't a hot favorite. If the concern is genuine, it's cute. If it's not? Totally gross.]

[briefly]

I'm sorry-?

[Well. She does genuinely worry about Julia, in her own way.]

[sweetmotherofgod]

Relax, I'm not hitting on you. Who are you hoping is okay, my Julia or yours? The woman you don't know, or the one you don't seem to like very much?

[briefly]

--both of them. [she supposes.] I wouldn't want to wish harm on anyone, regardless of whether I know them or not.

[isn't that nice.]