[Hayate is in her full-on military commander uniform, cape and beret and all.]

[ - Private to TSAB - ]

Okay, the mission to find a way out of this place isn't makin' any progress, so all you guys liste up, please:

We're not giving up on getting out, but it's pretty obviously that the instances of danger here aren't strange flukes on the Queen's part and we'll be running into them more and more. Plus, we're gonna be here a while, as much as I hate to admit it. So, priority goes to keeping people safe. Everyone try to patrol as much as you can just in case anyone ends up in trouble, okay?

[She pauses and sighs. She is entirely and completely out of her element here. Hayate is used to chasing faceless criminals that could be found, but not unfindable criminals with faces. She has pretty much decided that, whatever this place may be, the Queen and her people are not physically here.

She is very much not happy with this. It did not help matters that her own magic and skills were all but useless concerning the threats they have all encountered thus far.]

[ - Public | Video - ]

Hello, everyone. My name is Hayate Yagami, if we haven't had a chance to met yet. I would like to request anyone with any skills--fighting, magic, healing--to give me your name and an idea of what you can do. I'm not interested in taking command over everyone; I would just like to know what people are capable of and who you are so that I have an idea of what we all have to work with.

I'll start with myself: I'm the commander of criminal investigations in...a military. I'm also a mage, which means I can use magic; I specialize in wide-area, anti-army spells. That's about it.

I hope this might be the start of getting organized to better deal with dangerous situations in the future.

[It is not much, but it is a start and better than nothing because doing nothing at all would drive Hayate mad.]

 [ Serah's... a little bewildered. To say the least. She's spent the last ten minutes walking around, trying to figure out where she is and how she got here. So far, she's got nothing. ]

Is this... eternity? [ She murmurs that to herself quietly. It doesn't look like it—but it's better than the alternative. Right?

It takes her a while to notice the Vine. And the... megaphone that's attached to it. Well... it was something. ] Oh, um... hello? Can anyone hear me? I could use some help.

There once was a little prince, who lived on a small planet in space, no bigger than a house. One day, on this little asteroid, a rose grew under the attentive care of the little prince. He loved the rose dearly, though she was a spoiled little thing. She cast her beautiful perfume over the prince's home, but she also spoke quite cruely to him, being covered in thorns and not having any idea of how else to speak. In the end the prince tired of her words and left the planet, not knowing to look past her thorns and just appreciate the beautiful fragrance she gifted him with.

It was only when he was about to leave that the rose admitted how much she loved him, but she still urged him to leave. After all, she still had her thorns, which she believed were enough to protect her from even the fiercest wild animals. She did not want him to see her crying, for she was a very proud little flower.

On his travels, the prince met a geographer, who asked him to describe his planet. When the prince began to describe his dear rose, the geographer stopped him- flowers aren't recorded on maps, they are ephemeral. They vanish too quickly.

"My flower is ephemeral," the little prince said to himself, "and she has only four thorns to defend herself against the world. And I have left her on my planet, all alone!"

That was when the little prince first experienced regret.

Flowers have such a short life span, really. I know my story might not quite fit the most recent events, but I was in the mood for story telling. And whatever the roses may have done, it was not their fault. I see no harm in appreciating their sacrifice. And perhaps there are those who will now appreciate and care for life, regardless of the consequences.

[Very nice, France, but did you really need to spend so much time on saying just that...]

That said, your majesty, next time a simple boquet will do. Or at least a warning.


[ooc; I'm sure many of you know the story France is talking about already, but for those of you that don't: she's referencing the book Le Petit Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, which was written in the 1940s. I apologise for her rather pointless tl;dr...]

[The mirrors all throughout the Gardens turn on! It reveals a young blonde woman standing atop a wooden stage--spotlights shine on her! Where are those lights coming from, though? Also, isn't it midday? She is wearing what seems to be a stereotypical magical girl outfit and wielding a baton. Or a staff? Must be a staff for the magical girl theme.

Why is there glitter everywhere?

Oh, better pay attention! She takes a dramatic stance and speaks towards the mirrors.]

Welcome to the Magical Girl Lambda-Chan Show! Starring...Ugh.

[She sighs and shakes her head; she places one hand on her hip and uses the other to rub her forehead. Her shoe taps the stage impatiently.]

Wa~hooow! Good idea, stupid in practice. I wanted to make a BANG, BAM, BOOM! impression to catch everyone's attention, but this is just plain ol' dumb. This isn't CUTE or POP at all! I'd be embarrassed, but there's no time for that. I guess sometimes there IS such a thing as overkill!

[The screen goes blank; before you have a chance to process the bizarre spectacle, the mirror brightens up once again, featuring the same young lady as before. This time, however, she is wearing her normal frilly pink dress--is that a jack-o-lantern on her thigh?--and a pink beret, while sitting quietly at a table in the Gardens, sipping at some tea.

...Where did that other stuff go? Where did that table come from? Why is this girl so pink? So many red bows, you have no idea! She sure seems to be a weirdo!]

I suppooose doing things the old fashioned way has its merits.

So~! Ladies and...well, more ladies, I suppose. I'm not going to throw a fit, beg for an explanation, or anything like that. It's pretty much spelled out for me whose butt I need to kick, right? I'll give the Queen some credit: getting the Witch of Certainty into a game without her knowing and getting her stuck there takes some skill! It also ticks me off.

After all, do you have any idea how rude it is?! It's totally, completely, and absolutely rude! Her hospitality needs a lot of work, too. She drags me--an honored guest!--here and dumps me in the woods. La~aaame!

But. Whatever! Could be worse. It's completely impossible, but what if I got dragged to some cruddy city and lost my magic? Or maybe to some far-away island and forced to do dirty things? This place doesn't seem too bad in comparison! Kind of like a childish fairy tale, but that's not much different than Beato's game...

If we're meant to play here together, then make sure not to be boring! There's no~othing worse than boredom, after all.

Oh. One last matter.

[She takes a sip from her cup and calmly sets it back down. She smiles.

Then jumps from her seat.]

BEEERN! COME OUT, BERN! THIS ISN'T A PLACE TO PLAY HIDE-AND-SEEK!

If anyone's seen a grumpy blue-haired girl, you better spill! This isn't any time for that child to be misbehaving!

[A girl appears in the mirrors of the Vine. She is quite distinct to look upon, being gray, yellow-eyed, and with two orange horns poking through her impeccably stylish hair. When she speaks, it is with stunning eloquence and perfect enunciation, Which Could Be Signified Like This, but won't be for expediency.]

How unusual. I seem to have stumbled into some fresh version of Sburb. Can anyone tell me where we are? And also what state the game is in? And as we are supposed to be building, can anyone instruct me where the Alchemiter and associated materials are? I would prefer to get started.

Hm, there seems to be an unprecedented number of players in this session. I am definitely going to have to investigate.

[She seems ready to turn aside and go about her business, but hesitates, and returns to the Vine.]

Ah yes. Before I forget.

Have any of you seen any other Trolls around? Perhaps one with an eyepatch and a bad attitude? Or a loud boy with stubby horns? It would be most appreciated if you could help. I would rather not leave them alone and unattended.

Especially the girl.

Thank you in advance for your help.

"--off my clothes! Shoo!"

The vine seems to have captured a young blond girl in an all-too-familiar style of white shift bodily lifting a squirming rabbit off of her usual clothes - layered earth tone and pastel shirt, skirt, jacket and socks.

And the gunbelt with a revolver, of course. And a combat knife. Those are. Well. Different, for a young midpubescent girl.

She takes her clothing, and a satchel she checks for art supplies and a copy of The Hobbit, before turning to the mirror - and shifting into combat stance.

"If this is another dream-trap, I'm onto you, Nightmare," she snarls.

Then she sighs and droops. "And if it's not... this is Lieutenant Sara..." she mumbles a middle name. "...Smith of the Resistance, requesting assistance. Where is this and why am I in this stupid dress?"