voice; i have absolutely zero interest in friendship, i have absolutely zero interest in jokes

[inconsequence]

[Ordinarily text is their preferred method of communication. It is simple, to the point, and allows them ample time to compose their response with as many polysyllabic words as possible, as if that might compensate for their apparent youth. But there is little to no time for that, now. So the transmission, when it occurs, is audio only.

The tone of the speaker is that of a child's - albeit a cold, brisk, and businesslike one.]

Some time ago, it seems that a significant portion of the Moira's crew, when it existed, was abducted by a group of interdimensional slavers. They were held against their will. Exploited for the purposes of others.

[A hiss of a match being struck, and the crackle of something being set alight, and the voice continues:]

There were children among them.

[A moment. A halting intake of breath, the fluid cadence of their speech disrupted. Muzzling the impulse that swells in their chest, the boiling ember of rage that eats at what passes for a SOUL, for one such as them. Expression flat, words dull. Control. Control. Always, control.

Speak as though nothing is wrong.]

I am transmitting the Ingress signature one may use to access this world. Those that possess a conscience, or those that simply wish to have something to fight - [The last word twists into something else, a live snake coiling into a promise.] - I would encourage you to take action.

private to METTATON:
The way is open. Try not to get killed.

[Attached is the Ingress signature. They've already wasted more words than he's worth, honestly, but if something should happen to him, both Frisk and Asriel will very likely have something to say about it.]

private to ASRIEL and FRISK:
I will be away on a mission of sorts for a few days. Do not worry about me, and please, do not follow. I am well equipped for the task.

[[ooc: head on down to the mingle log if u want to do a slaver ass-kicking]]