Bob Fraser, RCMP

[Bob is the quietest, most studious child you come across. He's unfailingly polite, decent to everyone and fiercely protective to those who need it. He's also the kid who gets into fights whether or not he loses and he's small enough that he loses most of them.

His best subjects surround nature and he tends to sleep outside if he can. He tells stories if he's listened to about his mother or things he's read in books.

If he's bullied, he pretends he doesn't understand their logic and any verbal insult is ignored. Violence works better but only until he can extricate himself or he gives up and takes the beating.

He's never reported anyone, but does tend to not leave the bullies alone afterwards, urging them to change their ways. This has had mixed success, but he never gives up.]

Excuse me, but has anyone seen my copy of Don Quixote?

[Feel free to spam him in the forests/grounds as he spends most of his time there.]

[Bob is in his usual get-up, Mountie uniform under a coat.] We need to make sure the civilians are out of the line of fire. Anyone not going to be on the offensive, talk to your nearby officers and ask if there are any shelters. Stay in pairs or threes and if you get lost or under attack, keep your communicator on, so that others can find you.

Try to stay in the light and ask anyone you encounter to identify themselves. Only arm yourself if you've been trained in the weapon you want to use. However safe you feel with a gun in your hand, it's an illusion if you don't know how to use it.

[Private to Benton]

Let me know if you want to meet up, son.

Well, I obviously can't speak for those on the, uh, bottom of the foodchain, but I rather enjoyed myself! Opening doors was quite the achievement, when you're a dog. Half wolf.

Almost a shame it had to end, but I certainly appreciated the break from the harsher realities of this place.

Everyone make it through all right?

[The people on the fifth floor may have noticed that number eight has been busier than normal. But even if they hadn't noticed that, they might have noticed the not insignificant plume of black smoke which turned into white. No, no one has elected a new pope, there is now a home made sauna sweatlodge in Bob's cabin.

This is how he's dealing, by sweating his way into a vision. He'll have no objections to visitors, just don't expect him to answer how he is.]

Well, that's one way to break the ice. Especially after the tension of the last couple of weeks.

I don't believe I caused overmuch trouble, but if you find a discarded flare on the second level, I apologise, it was merely a distraction and I removed most of the gunpowder.

Ned? I believe I am in a better position to discuss the reasons behind my being here, so whenever you're available, I'd like to get started.

Damon? How are you?

[A twelve year old has activated his computer and his tone is very polite but underneath it's 'I am freaking the hell out, help!'] Uh, excuse me? Could... could anyone possibly, if you don't mind, tell me where I am?

It seems to be a cabin, but outside? I look out the window and there's no floor! And I don't recognise the stars!

Perhaps you know my parents? Their names are George and Martha and um... I'm Robert, so if you see them, would mind directing them... to ah... hold on!

[He leaves the field of vision and there are the sounds of a short burst of running, a quiet chant of 1... 2... 3... and running back] To Level Five, room eight!

[Suddenly excited!] Hey, are we on a space ship?

When a man dies, he goes into a spaceship in space? Well, I suppose where else would a spaceship be? It appears that I owe Woodchuck Wesley an apology.

Ah, Woodchuck. Almost shot off his own nose when his antique musket went off on his face. Never did get it seen to properly. Used to flap it open whenever Stacy Longshaw would happen by. They ended up married for twelve years, until Woodchuck strained his heart throwing that caber. Always knew the scotch would get the best of him.

Anyway, I'm Bob, Bob Fraser.