::The video shows a bustling office. Natives of Darstone can be seen from time to time in the background and the noises are those of a government office overburdened with a staggering influx of work. Voices calling back and forth. The clicking of typing. The low scratch of pens and flapping papers. In the midst of all this chaos sits Prussia, uniform crisply pressed, hair neatly combed back from his face. Perhaps if you haven't met him before, you recognise him from England's warning?::

Good afternoon, fellow victims of the unawesome government sponsored kidnapping plan! You may find yourself asking: "What is this incredible sight before me?" or "Whose amazing voice do I hear?" or even "Why is such a powerful and awe-inspiring being making this mass communication effort?"

If you're not, then keep it to yourself.

Anyways. The answer is simple!

For those of you who I haven't met, I am the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt -or Preußen, Prussia, whatever you like that isn't unawesome- and for a few lucky souls, I've got an opportunity~

The ability to type is preffered. The ability to follow instruction is a requirement. And since this is me talking, some combat skills wouldn't be out of place, but consider those optional for now. Ordinarily, I'd expect a C.V. on my desk for review before scheduling the interview, but I need people quickly so we're gonna cut that bullshit out of the process.

Respond here to schedule an in person meeting or show up at the Customs Office before close of business today if you want a job. The pay is eighty whatever-the-fucking-currency-is-called a day, ::He pauses, glancing around before leaning in conspiratorily.:: and just between us? I see plenty of opportunity for advancement.

::Prussia sits back with a sigh.:: Oh yeah. If you come here, don't be an idiot and ask for me mentioning shit about a job. Just come find me. I'm pretty fucking obvious and recognisable and shit -::Here he makes a sweeping gesture from his white-blond hair to his red eyes to his Prussian blue uniform.::- so if you can't manage that then you are not getting hired.

[The video feed flickers on, showing an upside down view of small reptiles skittering away from the owner of the mirror. There's a flicker disturbance, and what sounds to be a roar of some sort, of frustration. That's what it sounded like at least.

But soon the feed shuts off for a moment before it flickers back on to show a young man, sitting in what looks to be a cave. He rubs his face, the opening of a cave visible, leading outside into Darstone, just over his shoulder. Derek sits on a large rock inside the cave, a lot on his mind as he rubs his face, which has a thin layer of sweat on it.

He purses his lips before he looks straight at the mirror. This thing always threw him in a loop. The Alpha was talking to a mirror.]

If anyone has met an Isaac, Erica, or a Boyd, let me know. Or even a Scott for that matter. They're people from home, and I wanted to see if they were here. And if they aren't... that's probably a good thing.

[He's straight and to the point and looks away from the mirror, sighing heavily, his shoulders heaving with it before the feed flickers out again.]