[Luke closes a green leather bound book before he brings his full attention to the screen. His hair is a little disheveled and the slight grin on his face looks a little sinister. Though that could be the effect of the lighting and the scar on the right side of his face.]

So I've gotten my hands on five swords. Four are celestial bronze which means they won't harm humans. Perfect for training. So if anyone is interested in learning how to sword fight just contact me. Either here or send me a private message.

And for those of you who already know how to sword fight, anyone up for some practice? I'm a little rusty and I could use a challenge. This is open to anyone and everyone.

For those of you who don't know me I'm Luke Castellan. Son of Hermes and head former counselor of cabin twelve at Camp Half-Blood. [What was the use in not introducing himself? They were all stuck on board. Besides he needs his own crew. Not just Percy's gang of misfits.]

Can't wait to hear from the those of you who are interested.

[ a lone figure stands in the Oxygen Gardens (one of the higher floors) surrounded by trees that shadow and shield him as much as holding his back to the camera does. his celestial bronze sword is out and every time his wrist moves, his feet shuffle or the wind sways him, the blade glints. he's wearing cargo shorts and a Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, though his dark hoody blots out the bright orange. his voice (when he speaks) isn't louder than it needs to be, no more than his sneaker cracking twigs. ] A long time ago, I believed the gods had everything figured out.

They had misguided intentions because they couldn't directly interfere but they were trying; to be better, to do better than before. [ his head drops, heavy on his neck and his shoulders. ] But what's the point in being able to predict the future if you keep repeating the same mistakes? If you're so detached from the world that you can't be involved in it, that you can't stop a blade of grass from dying, let alone a person? What's the point of living forever [ he lowers his sword, sinks the tip into earth, glares down at it like it's the root of his problems ] if the only thing you're going to do - if the only thing you can do - is pat someone on the shoulder and shove them into harm's way, time and time again, to do your dirty work?

[ he's not drunk; he doesn't drink. but what he's saying, the conclusions he's uttering are almost out of his control, gone before he can pull them back. they're everything he's ever thought but never intended to say out loud, where he can't pretend it doesn't bother him, that it doesn't keep him awake at night. ] If your only purpose is to safeguard your family but you can't even do that right, what's the point?

[ Anaklusmos shreds grass when he rips it from the ground and he turns, looks into the camera and in the little burrowed patch that's half branch overhang but with a large enough field for one or two people to train in, it's dark enough to obscure his face but light enough to play tricks. is there- is that armor on his face . . . or? (or is he like so many others lately, fallen prey to a mask?) it doesn't matter because the feed times out when he adjusts his sword arm (rolls out an ache in his shoulder) prepared to swing at a dummy that's certainly seen better days, considering it's slanting off a pole, splitting on one side, half an arm missing and it looks suspiciously like its head (compiled of sheets and other miscellaneous gathered goods) is about to fall off. ]

[Luke comes on screen. He looks a bit tired but hey that's nothing new, right? There are circles under his eyes. But he still has a slight smile on his lips even with his scar he looks friendly.]

So back at home I used to train campers how to sword fight. I was wondering if there was something I could do here. I've been getting bored again on this ship and me and boredom don't get a long too well. [Mainly because thinking leads to bad things.]

I was wondering if there was an armory? Or something where I can train or help others be trained. I know there is gym that I'm thinking of checking out but.. I would really like to work on my swordsmanship.

Locked to Percy.

Hey.. I don't know where we stand on terms of friendship but I, uh, need you to help me with something. [He brings up his mask.] I haven't put it on. [he shakes his head.] I wanted to know if maybe you'd take it for me. Hide or lock it up. I can't destroy it and I don't like the way it makes me feel.

If you can't I'll understand. /Lock.

[Luke can be seen kneeling down by his room door. He has his hands set on both sides. His eyes were closed tightly as if he were concentrating on something. It looks as though he's feeling around the door and muttering something under his breath. It's too quiet to hear but his lips are moving.

It's clear that he doesn't know the camera is on him. Recording him as he tries to feel out the lock of his room. He wants back in. Damn. Why couldn't he just feel out all the gears like he always did. There might be a sweat starting to break.]

Gods damn.. [He takes in a deep breath and drops his hands to his sides.] Guess I'm stuck homeless for now.

[Don't worry people he's used to it. Being homeless that is.]

[ he's outside of the Oxygen Gardens which means the lighting is pretty awful but not as bad as the rest of the ship because he's in the first hallway away from it. he wanted to get out of the center of all the noise. mostly, what's coming into view is what he's wearing. his jumpsuit zipped just above his breastplate and a terribly bright orange t-shirt under said suit. but thanks Jon Snow, he took your advice to heart straight from the network without saying anything. layer up. no way no how was he leaving anything he might need in his bedroom; his greaves are on his legs too.

and then his hand where he's lopsidedly angling the camera (whoops), waiting for the screen to load up and soothing Mrs. O'Leary at his side, hand at the scruff of her neck, scratching and petting. ]

Some of you know me but a lot of you don't. I'm Percy, and for anyone who missed it: [ he pans the camera off of him and steps back, and back and back and back. until his hellhound that's relatively the size of their presumed only living dinosaur on board is completely in view. ] This is Mrs. O'Leary.

Now you're probably thinking, sure, that's great but we're in the middle of an emergency so take your hellhound and sit down. But I do have a point. [ and that's when he takes the comm back and flips it over, where he can stare it down. ] Being what she is, she has a way of getting in and out of the cabins - or any room - without using the doors. She doesn't need them. That said, I want to offer our help.

[ she nudges his elbow, looms at his side and almost makes him drop the comm in her eagerness to smell it. ] Easy, girl.

We're willing to retrieve anyone trapped in their rooms for as long as she's able and anything we can find while we're there that looks like it'd help keep the rest of you warm. Everything else you might need isn't going anywhere if the door's sealed up tight, so it can wait.

And just in case anyone goes there, I'm not sitting tight and staying out of it. That's not even near the table.

[ This is Bruce Wayne's voice. Cheerful, foppish, and the audio itself is somehow unsteady as though he can't decide how close to his mouth to hold the device. Apparently his default is too close, because--well, you'll see. He speaks like he's called someone specific. ]

Um, hi there. I bet I mess this up somehow, send it to the wrong number - something like that - but I don't really know that many people here, and... Well, this is embarrassing, actually--

[ At this point he bumps the video feature on with his chin, and it records a swathe of his jaw. ]

Do you know how to cook?

[ He's squinting into the camera, super close when he draws the device back, so that only his left eye and a swathe of slightly too-long hair falling over his forehead is visible, and then that eye narrows and the feed shuts off. ]

[Luke looks into the device, the jumper he's wearing isn't zipped up all the way and he looks a little uneasy.] I've never been good with introductions but I figured I might as well give it a shot.

[He doesn't knew whether or not if he should give the full story or not but hey... whatever.] My name's Luke Castellan, I'm new around here. I take it that I'm not the only one. There anything worthwhile on this spaceship? Back home I never was one to just sit around.

Need to do to something. Keep my mind going. [Because yeah... he's supposed to be headed to the Underworld.]

Guess that's about it. Told you. Not much on introductions. [He huffs a laugh before the feed ends.]