May. 22nd, 2017

[ video ]

May. 22nd, 2017 12:20 am
finewithhalf: (in trouble AGAIN?)
[personal profile] finewithhalf
[Okay, fine. The whole "assaulted and used as a hostage to torment someone else" routine was kind of traumatizing she guesses. But the aftermath of it has been so much worse. Why don't people talk about how much the healing process sucks? Everything is itchy and annoying. And now people are gossipping about a lake.

Recovery is dumb. It's dumb enough that Maya's gone to the network with the webcam on full blast, even though she's fairly obviously propped up in bed with her arm in a sling and patches of bruising smattered across her visible skin. Everyone's probably like this. And if they aren't, then something's wrong and horribly unfair.]


Hey, so is anyone else going kind of stir-crazy? Medical lockdown's pretty much the worst and I'm probably gonna punch someone if I don't talk to someone soon.

So come on. What'cha got? Extra points if you don't say anything about current events or mirror-anything.

text

May. 22nd, 2017 02:37 am
rlynotfeelinup2itrnsorry: (sad and alone)
[personal profile] rlynotfeelinup2itrnsorry
d-does any one have any um... regular tape....

the closet has given me.....

duct tape,
electrical tape,
masking tape,
packing tape,
painter's tape,
a book on tape,
and double-sided tape
and a lot more kinds of tape i don't know the name of....

but i need regular tape

also does anyone know how to put together.... a book that the pages have been torn out of....

or how to.... reknit a scarf.....

or.... or.....

i'm sorry.....
thinblueline: (Default)
[personal profile] thinblueline
[ While he's known for being pretty quick to assess a situation and pick up on what's going on, there hasn't hardly been time for that before Robin John Blake is addressing the network, a rather uneasy expression wrinkling his forehead, his whole being scrunched up while he tries to get used to using a video function that is nowhere near standard in his time and place. ]

Uh... Know this is gonna sound kinda weird, but— [ Believe it or not, John Blake, there isn't much you could say that the denizen of Wonderland would consider weird, but you go ahead and give it a try, buddy. ] Well... don't s'pose I'm dreamin', am I?

[ It feels like a good guess because he doesn't remember traveling, and he certainly doesn't remember leaving home, and since the last thing he'd done was attend a funeral, it could be a strange coincidence, a fabrication of his mind that's now semi-lucid, sitting here telling him how what he sees and feels can't be what's actually happening. People don't just appear in storybooks (and even if he did, it wouldn't be this celebrated tale). ]

Barrin' that, think I might be dead... [ It's mumbled in an off-hand way, as if maybe he's already considered it, but decided not to lead with that theory. Audible to the rest, even if he's quick to move on from saying it. ] But on the off chance I'm not either of those things, think someone could help me out figurin' what's goin' on here?

[ He likes to think a uniform would have added something to this request, but having just given up his badge for good, all he can do is address everyone as a regular guy — definitely not his first choice, since it usually does him no favors.

He looks like he's done, about to end the transmission, when something else occurs to him.
] —in person, if possible. Not really— Not really much of a fan of these things, not if I can help it.

[ He can't, not here, but he'll at least be content to try for a while. With luck, it won't even matter when he wakes up from all of this... ]

Be— [ A gesture over his shoulder. ] Gonna be outside for a while — out front. So... yeah.


[[ OOC: Video, audio, or action perfectly okay, just note. Will also match style. For starters, send a PM to this account or hit me up @ blakeroo on plurk. :) ]]

video

May. 22nd, 2017 09:23 am
whathereisevil: (with a silence broken)
[personal profile] whathereisevil
contACTHELLa
//help


[Pardon our mess. Typewriters may have existed in Hieron once, but certainly not within the past few generations. This technologically useless man rapidly accidentally posts several times, twice with text, once with blank audio, and twice more with some quick flashes of a dark-haired man's face squinting at the camera, looking exasperated with either himself or unknowable technology. Likely both.

After a few minutes pass and it seems like he may have given up, a steady stream of video settles at last. The man takes a moment to figure out it's sending something out, seeing the playback. Alright. He can work with this. Maybe.

Now that the image is steady, everyone can clearly see an image of a heavily armored, very large man, who might look imposing if he didn't look like he felt so out of his depth. He has dark skin and dark, short hair, greying at the temples -- he could be around 50 -- and a white wolf fur cloak hangs from his shoulder, with golden patterns emblazoned on his armor in a symbol of the sun.

He sighs.
]

I am Hadrian, Sword of Samothes, Defender of the Undying Fire, Officer of the Order of Eternal Princes. I am a paladin of the church of Velas. Ah, from the surface. I came to the Buoy with Exarch Alyosha as well as some companions of mine, but, uh... we've separated, some intentionally, some not that intentional. I don't know if I'm still in the lighthouse, but since I've found in my possession what might be a communication device... Or just a toy. I can't be sure either way. It must be pre-Erasure...

Um. Anyway. [Ahem.] I imagine I must still be in the Buoy. If... our Lord is still... No. I must have lost the opportunity. [Hadrian's eyes wander as he gets lost in thought for a second. When he catches himself, he clears his throat once more.]

Sorry. A lot has happened lately. I'm sure we all have plenty on our minds. If someone could point me in the direction of the Topgallant, or at least back to the main city, please. If there's no way back, then... I guess I'll just have to contend with that once it happens.

Thank you.

text;

May. 22nd, 2017 11:16 am
agentxthirteen: (11: not happy)
[personal profile] agentxthirteen
This is a long shot I know, but was anybody in my room while I was on the other side?
nomorules: (04)
[personal profile] nomorules
[A camera comes to life, framing a dark canopy of tree tops high above through which peep slivers of royal blue. It's the color of the late afternoon sky, the same view anyone would be able to see through their window, but this one is almost entirely blotted out by branches.]

This thing recordin'--?

[The video tilts down, revealing the speaker. If you've happened to misplace a loudmouth punk today, here's one in all his young, disheveled glory. Ryuji rests in the thick shade of some trees, looking weary (and maybe, maybe a little uneasy if you squint).

There's nowhere else for him to sit or stand besides the thick shade, really. Trees are clustered in suffocating closeness all around. Someone's in the deep woods.]


Uh, yeah, so. Who here's good with Boy Scout stuff? Anyone? I went to check out what's been goin' on outside and I think... I went too far into the forest. [Ugh, a painful admission. He sighs, chin almost on his chest.] Everything just looks the same. Pretty sure I'm just goin' around in circles.

[Point blank: he's lost.]

It's gonna be dark soon, so... Anyone know anything about orienteering?

[He's a man and he's asking for directions. Please help.]

(OOC: Action replies are welcome! Long story short, Ryuji's fallen prey to the confusing nature of the forest and will be lost until someone finds him or leads him out. Curiosity killed the city boy. :'D Please also beware that comments within may contain Persona 5 spoilers!)
thisismadfreaky: (So much guilt)
[personal profile] thisismadfreaky
[The video is set on one Cisco Ramon, looking rather worse for wear. He's scrolled back, skimmed things he's missed-- saw George's article-- he knows everything is out on the table already, but... but it's not the same when it's from a different source. When it's not straight from the horse's mouth. And... he owes them at least that much. More. So much more, but at the very least, that.

Iris had offered to interview him, give him the voice he didn't get to have when he wasn't here, but he refused. Not because he didn't appreciate the idea, the gesture, he did. And maybe he should have let her do it, because maybe she could put it all in better words than he can, it is her job, after all. But it's the sense of responsibility that he carries for what transpired and spiraled out of control because of his own, misplaced and selfish actions that makes him turn the offer down. He wants to do it, own it and let the cards fall where they may because of it. And it will be bad. He expects that much. Expects the hatred and the vitriol, yelling and condemnation, questions and criticisms. Nothing about this is something he wants to do, to deal with, but he has to. He knows he has to, it's entirely unavoidable.

This position isn't a completely foreign or unfamiliar one, it's one he's been in before. After the particle accelerator explosion. Science'd too hard, it went sideways, people were hurt. It's a pattern at this point, and he's learned his lesson now. But it's all too little, too late, because people have been hurt. People have been killed. That blood is on his hands, and it will never really come clean.

There's a flutter in his stomach and it isn't the nervous kind, but the violent kind, paired with a tightness like a vice grip that burns in his chest. He doesn't even know what to say, where to start. He clears his throat and he can barely look at the camera to address the invisible audience.]


For those of you...who don't know me, my name is Cisco Ramon. The... [His gaze drops, but it's brief, just long enough to collect himself before he looks at the camera again. Despite it, though, his voice is shaky, unsteady, thick with emotion--mostly guilt.] Event, if you want to call it that, that we just had is the fault of no one but my own. Dr. Fitz...had his plans, but he didn't know my true intent. I sabotaged months of work and research for my own agenda. An...agenda that, ultimately, was never real, and only the work of fabrications from a mirror who manipulated me-- [He pauses and shakes his head, corrects the statement.] no, who...I blindly trusted for months on a lie. A lie that...was so clever, and matched up so perfectly to something I'd been doubting for awhile, that I had no ch-- no reason not to believe it, at the time.

[He stares down at his hands, hanging loosely between his knees, where he's leaning forward just a little. He feels sick. Things he'd seen--blood, there had been so much--when his captors chose to show him the results of what he'd done, forced him to watch from the mirrors the chaos that ensued because of his own, selfish actions, are all too close to the front of his mind, but he pushes it all down. He can deal with it later.

Again, he looks back at his audience.]
My mistakes, my...emotional-driven choices led to catastrophic disaster and....for whatever it's worth, I take responsibility for that. I...I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix it, I can't fix it, but-- I'll do whatever it takes t- to make this right. Somehow. [Belatedly, as an afterthought:] And I'm not...I'm not touching a project like this again.

[Again, for whatever it's worth. He knows it doesn't change anything, it doesn't validate any of his actions, but he can't change the past-- ha, the irony of that-- he can only move forward in whatever miniscule increments he can manage. People will be angry, and they have the right to be, he won't begrudge them that. They should be angry. He risked them. All of them, for one person. For a lie. Nothing any of them could say is worse than what he's already thought to himself, and no one here can hate him more than he hates himself.]

I- I'm sorry. [A tear rolls down his cheek and he ducks his head, leaning forward to cut the feed off and it goes black.]

[Note: I'M SORRY, I COULDN'T WAIT, SO IT'S LIKE TINY BIT FWD-DATED! I'm an impatient child, I'm sorry. Plz feel free to threadjack, shitpost, defend him, rage at him, go wild, guys!]
revolter: (pic#11426121)
[personal profile] revolter
[ on what must be one of the first days of relative peace, a feed opens to present a newcomer. Leia is dressed as she normally would, all in white, collar high. The clothes she came with have been tossed away but there is nothing she can do about the ugly bruise on her neck, circular, red. it would turn to purple in a few days and is a dead giveaway for a collar of metal that bit into her skin until very recently.

her palms tell a story too, skin peeling at places, red and irritated from when she pulled on metal. However, it'd be difficult to pass her for the slave girl whose part she'd been forced to play. There's an air of authority to her even now.

Oh, and there's the blaster she tucks just beneath her belt, a touch of black on an otherwise white palette. ]


Well, this is rich.

[ biting with just a hint of sass but then, she seems to realize her message is finally being sent. ]

I see no practical reason for so much technology when we all live in the same cell.

[ this is what she calls this, a cell. A prison is a prison, vast as it may be. ]

But if you hear my message, know I mean you no harm. I understand I've come in a time of great peril [ somehow, she senses it in the very air around the halls ]. My own world is in great peril as well, it is urgent that they'll receive any help available if they're to see our mission done.

[ a beat. ]

We share the same predicament, I ask that we share information as well. If there is anything worth knowing about this system, I'd hear it and if any assistance is needed, I will supply.

004. Text

May. 22nd, 2017 11:33 pm
mourning_ghost: (Default)
[personal profile] mourning_ghost
[Nageki had first started searching for Kaneki (or Kaneki's mirror) when he ended up on the other side of the mirrors. He's not sure how long it's been since he's seen his friend, but he thinks it has been a while. Nageki doesn't usually go out of his way to meet people and neither do the friends he's made in Wonderland. As soon as Nageki returned to the Real side, Nageki visited the coffee shop but Kaneki wasn't there as Nageki had expected. But Nageki hadn't visited that often enough to know how frequently Kaneki worked at the place.]

[He sends his text because it's the quickest way to figure out what happened. One of Kaneki's other friends will surely be able to tell him what happened to Kaneki. He doesn't know who Kaneki's other friends are so he has to make his note available to the public.]

Did Mr. Kaneki return home?

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