[ Well, if it isn't one Stannis Baratheon who looks rather... unimpressed. Of course, this is hardly much of a change, but at least it would appear that in the last two months, he has managed to master some manner of control over the communications device. He looks directly at the feed, blue eyes filled with judgement. ]

I have delayed some matters for far too long.

[ yet, perhaps he had done so because he loathed this device so much. ]

Firstly, I would join the "security" division aboard this vessel. If this is to endure for much longer [ and his faith in Melisandre may not be as great here as it was in Westeros ] I would wish to do as much as is possible.

[ while he has attended Nathan Petrelli's meeting, he cannot help but feel that it is his duty to do as much as he can (perhaps in hopes of returning more swiftly to Westeros). ]

Secondly, I would visit these oxygen gardens in more depth. [ Accompanied by a specific individual, namely Jon Snow might be oddly somehow implied ] Should others have information on such from their own visits, I would hear it.

[ And this is where it gets difficult. Though he has developed some manner of proficiency, one important skill still seems to evade him. Still, this was not something that he wanted Ser Davos to see, and he did not particularly understand filters.

And so that left him only one (regrettable) option...

T E X T ]

FINALLY, I WOULD KNOW HOW ONE IS TO CONVINCE ANOTHER THAT NO HARM SHOULD COME TO HIS PERSON FROM A THIRD INDIVIDUAL. [ that was not convoluted at all ]HE COMES FROM FAR BEFORE THIS INDIVIDUAL AND I AND BELIEVES HER RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL MANNER OF ILL DEEDS. WHILE HE LISTENS TO REASON ON EVERY OTHER OCCASION, ON THIS MATTER HE WILL NOT BEND.

[ much like... someone else on nearly every occasion. ]

THAT WILL BE ALL.

[ The Others take this "text" function. ]

[hmm. after much fiddling and a crash course on how to video, davos finally gets the screen working, although he'd had to prop it on a table because holding it with his hands is a little bit of a difficulty. off-screen, he clears his throat for a bit, and then he appears, a rather-rough looking (old) man whose face speaks of a general distrust of technology who has no other choice than to reacquaint himself with something unfamiliar, again.]

I've listened to conversations around, and it is in my knowledge that for some of the occupants of this ... ship [he actually feels uncomfortable having to say that], this isn't the first, or second time, that such an event has happened - where a man or a woman has been thrown out of their present circumstances and into this place as either a reprieve, or a curse.

If there can be an assurance made that time stops when a man is thrown into this place, far away from whatever land or world he hails from, I would be willing to listen to them. [a pause.] I'll have to ask to make your replies not in text. I don't expect anyone to comply to that request, but if you could be so kind, please do not.

That being said, there are others who are from the same land, and perhaps time, as I was. [a pause.] I am not one to ponder on the specific manipulations of time and space, I've no knowledge there. But if the name of Westeros means something personal to you, I humbly request a meeting. Not on behalf of any King, as all of us are poor on that respect - and perhaps so much the better, but that is yet to be seen. Only of myself.

[a much longer pause. he ain't a smuggler for nothing.] Information is never freely given unless one asks for reward, and even beggars in that respect don't rely on the kindness of others. I have none to offer in return, unless specific concerns regarding the state of Westeros as I left it are raised - that, I can answer, in exchange for answers as well. The value of both, of course, can be determined later.

That is all. Thank you for understanding.

[end feed.]

ooc; will be slow

[ it's obvious this is going to be a serious post just from the look on robb's face. this is the king in the north, drawn up ice cold and stone-faced on the screen and there's nothing of the boy in his face. the direwolf at his side is a hulking mass of fur, teeth bared and eyes gleaming and no, this is not meant to be a light-hearted post. ]

Upon this ship there is a woman called Cersei Lannister, who arrived most recently. In Westeros, she dealt my house a great and terrible injury, and the matter must be settled, for it cannot be ignored. If she hears this, then I call her to treat with me, and submit herself for judgement for her crimes.

[ and grey wind snarls, ears set back and hackles raised, just as robb cuts the feed. ]

[The video turns on first -- a closeup of a handsome young man’s face. A blue eye flashes in the screen for a moment, then the camera is turned over in his hands, buttons are pressed -- and it switches to voice. There is silence for a moment, save for the fumbling of Renly’s hands and some quiet breaths, and then -- a soft ‘Aah.’ The strange device is blinking at him, apparently he is meant to communicate. Sadly, his voice does not sound quite as authoritative as he wishes it to, mostly due to confusion.]

This is King Renly Baratheon, lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Speak, whoever listens, and tell me how I may return home. I have pressing business to attend to and a war to win.

[He falls silent once again, frowning, and pokes at the comm, some of the arrogance in his tone fading to honest curiosity and confusion.] If there is anyone listening, that is. This device is quite strange.