maskormenace | video;

[For this first message, Elena puts on her very best for-the-camera smile. No second chance at a first impression, after all. It's a little strained, thanks to her injuries, but the painkillers have helped a lot.]

Hey, everybody. Where I'm from, video chatting isn’t that common outside of Skype—mostly people stick to e-mail and text messages—but since things are definitely different here and we’re something of a closed community, I thought I’d do as the Romans do.

[She gives a little wave.] I’m Elena Fisher. Back home, I'd say you might recognize me from TV, but I don't think history shows and the evening news cross dimensions, so I won't bother. I certainly didn’t expect to do that myself, but I doubt any of us did. And there are worse options.

[Such as death by grenade.]

Silly question time, but juuuuust to make sure—no one’s heard of a megalomaniacal immortal warlord cutting a swath across Europe here, right? Just checking.

Oh, and residents of Heropa #018—hi, I'm your new roommate. I should be there later tonight or tomorrow, but it depends on when the hospital lets me out. I had...kind of an accident right before I found myself here.

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[ She grimaces. ]

How does a TV star get involved with a— [ reading that over again: ] "megalomaniacal immortal warlord"?

Edited 2016-10-05 02:08 (UTC)

The TV star thing is an old gig—I don't even know if star is the right word, but I was the host of a history show.

I've been working straight journalism for a while, trailing a man with his own private army. NATO thought he was dead in a bombing raid; he wasn't. I got a little too close to him and to one of his flunky's grenades.

Jesus.

That's a hell of a story.

It would be. But since I'm here, I'll have to wait to find out whether I get a chance to tell it.

At the very least you'll return to that moment in time.

[ Not that it sounds pleasant... ]

Are you alright, by the way?

[It's sort of reassuring, in that she'd like to know if Nate is successful in stopping Lazarevic. It's sort of not, in that she's not sure she'll survive without the necessary medical resources.]

I am not, relatively speaking. Sore as hell and stitched up like Frankenstein's Monster, but still breathing. I'm counting my blessings.

That's good. I mean, that you're okay. The nanites will actually help speed up the recovery a little more.

I'll take every bit of help I can get.

[Seriously. Nearly getting blown up sucked; the recovery sucks only slightly less.]

About these nanites, though. Doesn't anyone find it strange, that there are these things inside us that we can't see or control?