[Someone has the best timing from wandering out of the badlands.]

I died, didn't I? ...Figures. I look horrible... If I did, what was the point in bringing me back? I'm not exactly worth anything. Seems like a wasted effort.

My processor is killing me. Don't... really know where I am right now. Not that it matters, I'll probably just end up dead again.

...

The planet's not about to explode and kill us all, right? It would be my luck to come back just for that.

[The feed that opens is staticky, coming as it is from the outer edges of the network's range, and bears a face that should be familiar to many. Upon closer inspection though, one might notice this Wing is a little rougher around the edges compared to recent newer arrivals. His glyph too, is a brilliant Vectorian gold edged with a strong violet glow. A touch of concern marks Wing's face as he looks right and left before speaking into the feed. The jet is clearly wary of his surroundings.]

Haveners! It's been quite a long time. I wish happier news brought me to this, but alas, the recent disruption of the Lamdba affects us all.

[Behind Wing, over his shoulder, there's a stealthy, disturbingly flesh colored shape slithering down the slope on all fours.]

We hope--

[There's a flash of steel and white and red behind the jet: Drift doing what he does best, which is, apparently, slicing things into sushi, the two--the whatever-it-is and Drift--disappearing offscreen in a grunting flail.]

[The sound of combat rings out off screen, grabbing Wing's attention. The feed is jostled as he almost ends it--clearly Wing is tempted to join the fray--but he seems to change his mind at the last moment.]

Please. Please be wary if you leave the Haven. The wastelands is strewn with foreign debris and creatures stranger than ever roam the land!

[Yeah, and on that note... Drift appears--victorious, of course--holding what appears to be a severed head--actually two, one a smaller, almost vestigial one like a goiter from the neck of the main one--into the camera's range. ]

Anyone else running into these , for example?

[Stay classy, Drift.]

((OOC: Action and network both fine! Responses will be from either--if you have a preference, let us know! ))

[Ut-oh, looks like Deckard's got his "Leader of the Brave Police" hat on today, if his grim expression is anything to go by.  To say nothing of his tone of voice.]

Good afternoon.  This is Deckard of the Haven Police.  As I’m sure everyone is aware by now, we seem to have another Unicron-induced invasion taking place.  There have been sightings of what I can only describe as zombies, plus some pretty grotesque animals, either bio-experiments or possibly the results of radiation mutations.  I've never heard of victims of severe mutations like we're starting to see surviving birth before, but I'd never heard of a lot of things before coming here, so I'm not going to rule it out.  Especially in light of the rising ambient radiation levels throughout Haven.

Those without shielding, I must ask that you remain inside, as deep into the Temples as you can.  Those who can weather the radiation, we need to find the source and a way to neutralize it as soon as possible.  I'd like to ask all those with aerial capability to contact me.  If we coordinate flight patterns, we can cover more ground in less time with little wasted in overlapping efforts.  Those on ground patrol, if you decide to go out, I strongly suggest you do so only in pairs or more.  We don't know what these creatures are capable of, but I can tell you from past experience that you could be in for a wide variety of really nasty surprises.

Also, keep your eyes up.  There's been at least one instance of an attack by a flying adversary.  I'm sure many of you saw Thundercracker's video.  I just spoke to him a little more about it, and he described a seemingly sentient, floating fireball that was able to turn into essentially a column of flames.  Shooting the core destroyed whatever it was, so we know that firearms are effective.

If anyone has any additional information at all on what's going on, please share it.  Thank you all in advance for your help.

[Well, there, Haven, have . . . well, one might guess it – him? – to be human.  Maybe?  Humanoid, at any rate.  Damn, but those are some enormous –  and very blank and dark –  round optics…in a rather leathery "face".  Best guess, for those would know of such things, is a guy in a full-head-covering gas mask over what was probably once really nice body armor.  While still quite functional, by the looks of it, it's definitely seen better days.  From the way he's holding up the device he's recording with, only one shoulder is visible . . . and there's no Glyph.  When he speaks, it's with what could best be described as "decent" English with a heavy Russian accent.]

So… Hello.  Seems not only I get caught outside during blow-out – and survive, yay for me – but I get dropped on alien world.  And bring mementos of home to share with you all.  Reverse welcome present, yes?

[Someone's inordinately cheery for finding himself in the situation that he has.  Maybe it's because he's been dealing with weird and "alien" shit for a few years now as it is.  He's spent the past few days learning what he could in recent network archives while he holed up somewhere defensible.  It also helps that he hasn't quite realized that what robots he's seen on the network aren't just amazing suits of powered armor with unnecessarily expressive faces mimicking their pilots, nor just how huge you all really are.]

How does this sound?  We trade information – I tell you what I know of mutants, you tell me what you know of . . . [He shifts to roll the wrist of his free hand – and that motion?...brings his other shoulder into view…which doesn't bear a Glyph either.  Never mind that he's got armor on, if there was one present . . . it'd be visible.] . . . everything else.  Deal?

Oh, and food.  Yeah.  Food would be good.  [It's actually the main reason he's doing this now.  He's run out of rations, oops.]  And vodka.  Lots of vodka.  Trust me, is good for the health.  Especially with radiation levels rising like they are.

Oh . . . name is Stepan.  Stepan Utkin.  Vsego dobrogo!