[Video]

[1st-class-honor.livejournal.com]

[The communicator flickers on (albeit with several random buttons pressed in the mix), and here you go, have one rather confused, rather stunned ex-SOLDIER. Standing outside, one of his hands is busy shielding his electric blue eyes while his other is poking at a dark-navy shirt that has enough peppered destruction to it that it seems less like clothing and more like Swiss Cheese. It’s pride that made him keep it, pride, disbelief, and stubbornness. In glimpses beneath, the skin is whole, perfect and tanned, no hint of damage, not a flaw in sight.]

Hope this thing is recording…

So, not really what I was thinking when I envisioned the Lifestream, gotta admit. [A finger hooks in one of the more prominent holes in the fabric, tugs, and lets go, a nervous tic. Sorry, you’ll have to forgive him; he’s a little overwhelmed by the last twenty-four hours; near-death does that to a person. Being brought somewhere else, somewhere he’s never even heard of, isn’t even sure really exists? Even worse.] Yeah, yeah, I mean, I know what they’ve said and all, but, heh. You know, it’s a lot to swallow.

[He clears his throat.]

Does anyone know-- [He stops himself, fighting the urge to ask about Cloud, to ask if the kid made it out, to ask if he came over with anyone. If he is around and this place is real, the less attention drawn to him, the better, especially without knowing just what exactly lurks here. He’s not about to throw the kid to the same wolves he just tried so damn desperately to save him from. But… he wants to know, too. Badly.]

–if I can get a good burger somewhere? I’m starving. You don’t wanna know what I’ve been living off of for the last few years.

[And no, he has no desire to elaborate. Really, he doesn’t. His stomach, however, chimes in with a well-timed growl, and he laughs good-naturedly. The hand playing at his shirt pats his stomach gently.]

Okay, maybe three burgers.

Or five.

∫ twelve pipes ∫

[only7percent.livejournal.com]

[Video]

[The video comes on to show a very pale, Holmes. His mouth is draw into a tight line and his fingers are templed before him.]

Watson is missing.

There are signs that he was kidnapped.

Nataku...a word if you will.

[THe feed ends abruptly- be warned, Holmes is not in a pleasant mood.]

001 - Text.

[dontcrossmyline.livejournal.com]

[William isn't too fond of the video function on his communicator just yet, hence his introduction comes as a text.]

Good evening. My name is William T. Spears and I was the director for the Dispatch Management Department in the London Division. It's going to be a hassle trying to keep track of my work here. Not only have I been stripped of my powers and my scythe, but I am also without my personal agenda.

Fortunately, this device here is capable of many applications. I'm surprised, really. We don't have this advanced technology in my world. Perhaps I can carry on this knowledge to the Department should I ever have the opportunity to return. Once you get past the difficulties of learning how to use this communicator, you can organize information and make notes in minutes. What I compiled would have taken much longer with nothing but a pen and paper. To have nearly everything in the palm of your hand... that would increase efficiency and productivity in the Department. It would even cut back on overtime. This is truly a wonderful device here.

In any case, I felt an introduction was essential. There is a chance we may find ourselves working with one another.

I've one thing to apologize for ahead of time.. Please excuse a Grell Sutcliff. In his current state (stripped of powers and all), he may possibly be a danger to himself and those around him. If not a danger, an annoyance. As his superior, I apologize.