[ That is one big pod, for a very big guy inside of it; a very disgruntled Decepticon has found himself far from his cave in Jasper. He already is dealing with being in exile, and a night in shut down mode to conserve energon had him with his guard down.

When he wakes, he snorts, and he cringes at the lack of space in the pod. ] Drats! [ He shouts out, as he reaches his slender fingers up to push the pod up and he sits himself up. ] So, I'm not off line, and that is a very good development. [ He grabs hold of the videophone, waggles his fingers and he goes to announce his presence.

This entire thing might be good; he might be able to rule, whereever this is and without Megatron to screw things up... He smiles at the thought crossing his mind, but the smile fades when he knows that every place has its fair share of heroes. ] Drats... [ But he quickly composes himself, and then goes to announce his arrival. ]

Hello... [ He taps the camera with a finger. ] Can anyone hear me? I believe I have arrived here by mistake.

[There's something a little 'off' about the gorgeous raven-haired woman sitting calmly on a street bench. Thick waves of black hair flutter past her bare shoulders, caught up in the strong winds of Genessia's late fall climate, and the hem of her slinky dress flaps like a banner. Maybe it's the fact that she should be shivering from the cold, or exhibiting goosebumps at the very least. But there's not a single bump marring her smooth pale skin. The only emotion she registers is vague annoyance as the wind seems intent on stealing the pamphlet out of her gloved hands. Her grip is sure, however, and she reads the material thoroughly.]

[Despite the strangeness surrounding her, maybe you don't particularly care. She's beyond beautiful, her long legs crossed, her dark lashes half-shielding intensely violet eyes. She raises the device she was given from the box, examines it, and puts it back. Looks like she's not making any outgoing calls. Being a homunculus, she knows the art of patience, and she'll want to weigh all of the advantages and disadvantages of announcing herself to the city at large before making a choice one way or the other. Best to learn as much as she can first.]

[One of Harry's fliers lies neatly in the box as well. She took one, but didn't bother to use it for anything more than a reference.]

[If she spots you, her dark lips will curve into a faint, inviting smile. At least she's approachable.]

Who: Daimon Winter, illusionist at large--and whoever feels like saying hello!
What: Exploring, physically and telepathically.
Where: the Bay
When: November 28 evening

 Daimon rolled over suddenly and sat up, hair askew and green eyes full of hazy confusion. "...mnuh?" The box slid off his chest and thumped against the rim of his sleep pod. He wiped his face and looked around, then reached out to grab it and investigate it.  

It took him a few minutes to sort out the note, the communicator and necklace, and then he sort of sat on the edge of the pod shaking his head. "Bloody Hell, I've been randomly telepath-napped." Grumbling quietly, he pocketed the communicator, letter and cash, managing to keep calm in spite of everything. The necklace he lifted and examined, holding it against his chest. "Hm. I'm going to look like an Indian pimp with all this jewelry." But he put it on regardless.

None of this made any sense, but all he could really do right now was try and verify what the note said. First telepathically, and then physically, once he knew which way to go. Sighing through his nose, he closed his eyes, and let his consciousness start to expand past the area, lightly touching the minds of others as he encountered them. He wasn't prying deep into people's heads, or even trying to conceal his presence that much. Just drifting around catching people's moods and perhaps a few surface thoughts as he scanned for anxiety, hostility or the like. His own mind was wary but curious, with a certain warmth.