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What is it with this bloody place? Every time I step away the whole universe goes to shit. A robot war? Really? Really?

And your Bureau has little enough to say about it except an apology. Like that does a damn thing.

There has to be a way to prepare for this, or somewhere to go when the shit hits the fan. There has to be some organization or some sense of a reality check. I don't know. I can barely wrap my head around it.

Bloody robots...

Other than the two persons that died that certain administrations are so sorry for. [there is enough sarcasm there to drown small animals] How is everyone?

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Oh, you missed the fun.

[John does not look all that much worse for the wear, save for some scratches and bumps here and there.]

I was on my way to campus when the whole world went to Hell. It was something out of Star Wars or something, blasters and droids and - I took a few apart to see if I could figure anything out; Jack and I got into a few spots of trouble. [He grins a bit at this, not just cheekily. The humor fades after a moment, though, as if he had to get the cheer out, out of habit, before he gets back to the harder topics.]

You're right, though. How is it, that they can plan when a Different is going to blow up a street with their Memory, but they can't pinpoint when the whole city is going to go splicing into another reality? Casualties really aren't acceptable - in truth, I'm glad you weren't here. The less people that got hurt, the better.

I've had my doubts about the Bureau since day one, but I'm not really quite sure where to start a proper investigation.

I wouldn't call that fun. It's terrifying. [he knows John is being facetious, but still]

Scifi and fantasy don't belong in the real world. That's why they're escapism.

And aye, you're right. It feels like they should be able to do more. At least to contain it. I don't think there's anyway to truly know the whale while we're inside it... [especially when blathering on about it on the network]

And the people that are inside have drunk the... whatever it is that gets someone into a cult.

Kool-aid. People drink kool-aid to join cults. Or...well, more famously, to leave them, in mass horrible fashion.

As far as the robots go, well, it was terrifying, but also thrilling. I suppose I'm just one of those people who gets a kick out of near death experiences. I never would have thought as much about myself, really - not until...all of this. I've led a pretty dull life up to this point. I was telling Ellie - part of my professional career has been the study of hypothetical extraterrestrial life. And suddenly, there were patches of alien planets in the middle of Manhattan?

Oh! [His eyes brighten, just a bit.] It was worth the danger to set foot there, even if only just pieces of it. But - I do suspect that perhaps they can and are able to do more, but possibly don't. Not that you heard that from me, or anything.

How can you say that? How can you say it's worth the danger? People died. People were threatened. Who knows how much was swept under the rug? It's one thing to be an adrenaline junky and step in when you have a choice... but to be...invaded... That's not worth it. That's never worth it.

So I either say, "Lucky you, you missed it" or I say "Damn, you missed all the fun" but I'm not sure which one is appropriate for you.

It does completely suck that those people died, though. You'd think with all the stuff the Bureau has figured out to do they could resurrect anyone they wanted, too. Almost, anyway.

You'd think, but maybe they don't care. I think I'd prefer lucky you. I wouldn't have survived it. [he would have been dead in the first ten minutes. Hands in his pockets thoughtfully]

I think it more than sucks... But I'm not sure what's to be done about it other than waiting for the next night terror.