[ So if time is kept in the same way here as it is back home, today is Ezio's birthday! He's procured a bottle of wine for himself and relaxing for the day. ]

How strange it is to have a birthday away from home.

Ezio.

For your knowledge, a... friend of sorts of mine has appeared here. He is fairly taciturn and snappish, but do not take it to heart.

He has recently appeared upon the network - if you wish to speak with him, I suggest to talk with him there.


( A long, weighted pause. )

...He really is a good friend, however. Despite his usual attitude.

[The feed opens on Rodney's bedroom. Two voices are talking offscreen- one is Rodney, and one is very familiar to some residents of New Moore, but not who they'd expect. Rodney seems to have turned the video on for a reason and simply hasn't bothered to click it off. For simplicity's sake, Rodney is in blue text, Jennifer in green.]

I'm not really sure about this, Rodney...

It's going to be fine. Look, even I've managed to get friends here, and you're, like, 30 times more pleasant than me, at least.

Well, that's very kind of you to say and... probably true, but really, I'm fine!

[Rodney sighs heavily.]

You clam up even more than I do when it comes to meeting new people.

... Also true.

You're going to be okay. I know you're shy and socially awkward, but trust me, you'll fit right in with this bunch of misfits. And you're all about the first impressions, right?

... Okay. Alright.

[With visible reluctance, a woman finally steps in front of the camera, smiling half-heartedly. She is nearly identical to Kaylee, except for the fact that she's a little thinner, a few years older, and has blonde hair instead of Kaylee's brown.]

Uhm... Hi. I'm Dr. Keller. Rodney's... already explained everything about this place to me. He and I come from the same world... [Rodney pops up, grinning like a dork and waving, then retreats.] ... and he wanted me to introduce myself. So. Hello.

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DUB BUCKHORN

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PUT SOME CLOTHES ON THERE ARE KIDS HERE

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UNFORTUNATE NAME #2

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UM HES PROB RICH OR SOMETHING

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I don't know what the hell is going on, or what's exactly being done, but I'm not going to idly sit by and watch one of my friends on a fucked up version of Survivor.

I'm heading out and I'll tear this city apart if it means finding them. Anyone willing can come.

[ So poor confused Ezio has purchased the first game featuring himself. And being a man from the 1500s, he has no idea how to view this. ]

So much like the rest of you, I have found the... medium... in which my story is apparently told. Yet I have never seen anything like this before. It is a, ah, 'video game?' I am not familiar with these. I open it up and there is no writing, just this strange circular... dull blade with a hole in the middle.

Where can I find one of these playing stations? Apparently there are three of them.

After having spent a few days here in New Moore, admiring the scenery, meeting the residents, and adjusting to my new... I guess this is "life" now? I've come to two conclusions:

1) I prefer city life.
2) Everyone on this island is utterly, and completely mad.

Within just hours of my being here, my flat had already been broken into, I had spoken to a character I'd read in books as a boy, met up with some old friends, met a few fans of my work, and found out that my flatmate's arch enemy (I'm being completely serious when I say this, too. Who has arch enemies?) was living here, and is claiming to have been the one to create Sherlock and myself.

Not that we're buying it, mind you, but the fact remains that it happened.

Even more confusing was when Sherlock invited someone over (still my flat, by the way. I haven't gotten official notice of your switching. Get it taken care of!) and had me give him a brief medical examination. Two heartbeats, freezing temperatures, and perfectly alive and well. Apparently he's called "The Doctor" and he's some kind of alien. Alien! In my sitting room! He then begins to tell us about the apparently strange happenings that go on here every night at midnight when time stops. Sherlock says he's looked through the network archives, but I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm still coming to terms with aliens.

There are some things which require looking into very soon, and Sherlock and I hope to begin getting to the bottom of these queer things happening and disrupting the lives of the good people here. I've been thinking of applying to the local hospital or seeing if there's a private surgery that needs some help, but with a population this size, it doesn't seem likely. The hospital might be my best bet, but I don't believe that Sherlock will have any of it. Anything that might be convenient for me is often times a hindrance for him, as though he needs me available at all hours, whenever he's had a revelation or a case. Quite frankly, I'm glad that I showed up here. Having him wandering the city alone and subjecting some other poor sod to his particular personality quirks and habits would just be cruel. I do take thanks in the form of a cheque, if anyone is interested.

[The video opens on a middle-aged man, who is obviously QUITE CRANKY. His tone carries an underlying edge of sarcasm for the first few sentences.]

"So, Dr. McKay, you weren't actually real except now you are and welcome to New Moore." Stop me if you've heard that one before, because I am sure I and my colleagues must all have had a similar story fed to us at some point in the past four years. That we imagined a big part of our lives. That it was all in our heads. So you'll forgive me if I'm not quite ready to believe this whole thing and expect to wake back up in the infirmary at any moment to be told it was some sort of weird dream caused by- by, oh, I don't know, an alien fungus or something like that. Hey, it's not completely unheard of!

[There's a pause as he takes the time to read over some of the recent network entries.]

...Wait, MANDATORY DANCE? This is not my best day...

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[ Yeah. That was the result of a man born about 500 years too soon for this kind of technology. Poor Ezio is fiddling with his little communication device and has no idea what it actually is, or what it's supposed to do. He then must hit something because suddenly a recording of a very frustrated Italian man can be heard. ]

Figlio di puttana! I do not have time for all this nonsense!