[ The feed turns on to reveal a dark skinned boy angled as if he was falling from the sky.

.. Actually, he is kind of falling, but he looks really excited despite falling, for some reason!

The image of him here only lasts for a few seconds though, as the communicator hits the ground. there's a sound of a loud thud, before screaming starts, and the camera is just barely able to capture the darkskinned boy on top of a blue-haired boy, although the sound picked up by the microphone makes it pretty obvious as to what's happening. ]

Fuck!!!! [ a pale hand raises up, grips onto blond strands of hair, and yanks on it, trying to pull the other off of him. ] GET THE HELL OFF OF ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!

[ Orca whimpers, holding onto Agito's hand. ] Meaaan! That's so mean, and I just found you, Agito! [ he's pretty forgiving, though, and he's grinning again soon. ] I thought I had to play with that -- Buta? But it's Agito instead! I'm really happy to see you again, Agito!

[ Agito stops short as he registers the fact that oh, he knows this thing. ] WHY THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN HERE?

[ Orca just kind of shrugs, grinning. ] To play~! It's been sooo long, so let's play!!

[ There's more of this reunion, but the communicator times out, cutting the broadcast short.
blue is agito; green is orca. ]

[accidental video]
[Peter is not panicking.]

[Really, he's not, because panic was over about five minutes ago when he Apparated into this strange place and he immediately scrambled to hide. He was supposed to be in a suburb. This is clearly not a suburb. This is--somewhere else, and he can't quite tell what the dominant accent is but if he's managed to accidentally get himself to another country he knows James is going to laugh at him forever.]

[He hopes it isn't Australia. If it has to be anywhere that's not the UK, he hopes it's not Australia. They have deadly jellyfish and dingoes and Australians in Australia.]

[No, Peter isn't panicked. Peter is so horrified he's giddy; he keeps suppressing the insane urge to laugh, because what else could go wrong?]

You are an idiot, Peter.

[He presses his hands over his face and then--curls up in a ball, his wand clutched tightly in his hand as he huddles miserably over his knees. Hello, City. There is a short blond young wizard, by the name of Pettigrew, of twenty years age and an evident unawareness of the camera at his feet.]

And now, children, have we learned our lesson on discretion?

Never give confession to an audience whom you can't blackmail later.

I believe they call this - what was it? Elementary.

As elementary as the instinct to give the lie to the liar's tongue, when it's spoken.

So, to that purpose: have we many... children here? Without their dear mothers and papas and ever so distraught for the absence of the blood of their blood? I've a task for a few poor, wretched, hopeless, true orphans.