[The camera focuses in on a pair or red-framed glasses sitting folded on a bedside table.  Homura's voice is quiet, controlled, and unemotional, but not without some tension in it.]

Whoever left these here can take them back. I don't need them anymore.

[Rodney is seated at his desk, looking very displeased indeed. A strange orange... thing is sitting next to him.]

Oh, yes, yes, New Moore, this is the week to have fun at my expense, isn't it? Clearly, sending me a ZPM [astute listeners will note he says "zed" instead of "zee"] when I don't actually need one is your idea of a joke, yes? Kicking me while I'm down, as it were. These things don't exactly grow on trees! Well, I'm not going to let this put me in a bad mood! No siree, nope! I'm instead going to hoard this precious gift and take it back with me when I am finally able to escape this island.

SO. THERE.

[The feed clicks off.]

[Text, filtered to The Once-ler]

Mr. Once-ler, it seems you're my new housemate, and you may have witnessed me curled up in the fetal position and looking pathetic on my bed. I assure you, I am usually much more animated, and I look forward to meeting you.

Oh what a lovely day this has been. I've just received a wonderful gift of books that I thought would be lost to me forever. Oh, happy day! I've only just finished re-reading my favourite Wilde novel, and have already locked it away in a safe environment with the other book that was found for me. So imagine my surprise when I happen upon another set of books in my flat. Unfamiliar to me, however. They appear to be encyclopedias of some sort, of some far off fantasy land. Wonderful read, I must say, very curious. They contain some fascinating articles that would be marvelous for a story of some kind.

Philosopher's stones and alchemy, and the thrilling war of Ishval. I've been reading it for hours, though I don't believe these books are mine. I apologise to whomever these lovely things belong to, but if you don't mind, I should like to read a little more before returning them

[ He's made it private, mostly because, well.. this is probably something that should remain that way. The picture, in a plain but nice frame, appeared on his bedside table when he woke up this morning, and he only recognized two of the people in it.

He's contacting Ukraine because Belarus terrifies him. ] Is... this yours?

[She's seated at a desk, hand resting on the pages of what appears to be an old, well-worn journal. The edge of a photograph is just visible, still tucked securely into the book. She opens her mouth, then seems to change her mind, glancing back at the yellowed pages under her fingers.

Finally, her attention returns to the video feed.]

Miss Gwen Cooper, it seems we're to be roommates. I don't believe we've been properly introduced.