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[The young woman who appears in the feed looks unimpressed, almost bored, as she faces the camera. The garden spreads out behind her, but her eyes are trained on a spot down and to one side, disinterested in the scenery.]

I didn't know I could still be used as a piece after that sacrifice gambit.

[She's quiet for a moment before her gaze flickers up to the camera and her brows draw together in an irritated frown. Her hair slides back over her shoulder and the cheap, pink hair ties that hold her half-pigtails in place click together.]

What does this mean? Did Oniichan win or did Beatrice? Why did another game start?

[A beat during which she is very likely tapping her foot. After a few seconds pass and she doesn't get an immediate answer from out of thin air, her expression smooths back into bored disinterest.]

I'll find my own way out, then. Sankyuu. Shi yuu ah-gen. [Her last words ("Thank you. See you again.") are spoken in heavily accented Engrish before she cuts the feed.]

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Lot of times, you can come back after a sacrifice play.

[ Or after refusing to make one. ]

Edited 2013-06-26 02:31 (UTC)

[Ange frowns. This guy sounds like he knows what he's talking about--or like he thinks he does--but she doesn't know him, which makes it suspicious.]

According to whose rules?

Wonderland's. And a lot of other worlds.

[ "Trust me." ]

"Wonderland."

[Like rabbit hole, off with your head shit? Really?]

Why would these worlds need such a rule?

The one and only. Apparently.

[ He shifts where he's apparently standing. ]

I doubt they need it. But wouldn't you rather have it that way? A second chance?

[She opens her mouth to answer, then frowns and pauses. After a minute, she starts again.]

As long as I can do what I need to do, yes, even if I'm just someone's piece.

You can do what you want, pretty much. Except go back.

[ He can sympathize with the feeling of being a piece in someone's game. ]

Ah, it's useless. It's all useless.

[She lets out a breath and brushes her hair back over her shoulder.]

I don't have time to waste here.

We all feel that way. [ He's not being harsh-sounding; really, it's the opposite. ] ... I wish I could give you better news about the whole escape plan. But there isn't one.

Is anyone working on that?

[It's hard for her to imagine that no one is, if there are other people here. And if no one is, that's a pretty sure sign that there really is no way to leave.]

They've tried. Worked on it, tested it out, brought back nothing. If it makes you feel better, a bunch of us are researching this place like crazy, see if we can learn anything we didn't know before.

That's something, at least.

[She places a hand on her hip and glances around the garden again.]

What does this place do to us? [It's a pretty broad question, the way she's phrasing it, but her actual aim in asking it is pretty narrow. At least some of her power, if she wants to admit to its existence, isn't working, and she can only guess its the place's fault.]

Depends on the week. [ Sam heaves a sigh. ] Things-- And people, even, change all the time. We never know what to expect.

Change how? [Clearly it varies, but that's still pretty broad.]

The layout of the mansion changes. We get sucked into weird scenarios, where you could... I dunno, face your worst fears just from walking around, get stalked by your own shadow. [ Beat. ] It's not all bad, but usually...

[ It's less than fun. ]

I see.

[Ange sighs and cocks her head a little to the side.]

Thank you. That would be a nasty surprise to walk into unprepared.

It can be. [ He smiles, lightly. ]

Uh-- Sorry, never introduced myself. I'm Sam.

I'm Ange. Nice to meet you. [More or less.]

Sam. [ He nods in acknowledgment. ] Mind if I ask where you came from?

....Japan. 1998.

[ Not fictional, then-- That he knows of, anyway. ]

I'm the US, 2013.

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