worldentire: (yes i'm amazing//bitches bitches bitches)
[personal profile] worldentire
Augustus Sinclair (Esquire, that is) made himself a hell of a name on the black market by being simultaneously the most pleasant and most ruthless dealer to work with. When he's not good-naturedly threatening you and everyone you care about, he's offering coffee in the middle of an arms deal. He's known in both bad circles and good as having no qualms about selling arms, armor or odd gene-mutating potions that are rumoured to give you both amazing abilities and a hell of an itch (and may or may not be stolen from a pharmeceutical company or two that no one can ever tie him to. It's also rumoured he used to work there before something happened, but most of those rumour-mongers disappeared around the same time he rolled out a new flavour. very questionable) to good, bad and morally-questionable alike.

One might find him- if one is particularly good at what they do -in his basement shop (Sinclair Solutions, didn't you know?), hidden near the Docks and under a particularly vile factory. It's a mosty bare room with a cage between you and him, and a veritable candyland of questionable items and weapons behind him. He'll usually be sitting in a chair, feet up and smoking while he reads the newspaper; his prominently displayed gun holster is a nice addition to his usual suit-sans-jacket look. Everything comes with a price, but he doesn't just take cash: any goods you may have can be worth something, any jobs you might pull are always worth discussing.

One might also catch his particular radio frequency, between the hours of 1am and 4am, where he drops secrets and mentions sales- untraceable but oh so interesting. He uses a mixture of text and voice, and can be reached by either one.

His penthouse is in one of the nicest places in the city, but it's rare that anyone picks out just who he is amongst all the other well-dressed businessmen of the city. You'd have to be a particularly dogged reporter or some other kind of jobless no-life hell-bent on finding the man with the honeyed voice and the unbelievable firearms- oh, did we say that? We're sure you have a life, somewhere amongst your useless trash-digging and journalistic badgering.

It's said he has a loose cannon wiping out all his loose ends, but just like everything else said about him, nothing can ever be proven for sure. He's been in this business an awfully long time, sport. It's usually in your best interests t'keep this from gettin' personal.

Feel free to hit him up either in his shop, near his unbelievably swank home (perhaps at a party? he's good in the eyes of the social scene. keeps his money warm) or via his radio transmissions.

Oh, what's this? Seems there's a sale on, if you're interested: he's created a brand new tonic, something he reports will shoot needles from your hands as fast as any machine-gun; organic and versatile, these little babies will melt once introduced t'liquid, eliminatin' any fears your bullets will be traced back t'you. Iiiinteresting, especially if you're not listening to the rumours that his candy gives one a particularly violent addiction.
worldentire: (Default)
[personal profile] worldentire
Did I miss the memo on why September's so damn busy? Or just what necessitated a goddamn blizzard?

[ he's too old and too Georgian for this snow nonsense. goodness he's being crochety today, isn't he? ]

While I'm here I might as well mention there're still bots, if anyone else was interested.
animusangelus: (Default)
[personal profile] animusangelus
I'm going to be patrolling the halls all day, so if you need assistance, you can count on me. [Cloud seems...lighter. Maybe even friendlier? There is also confidence in his tone - almost as if he considers himself equal to anything Wonderland can dish out.

How else would a First Class SOLDIER feel? He even holds himself differently, one hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for action. His posture is highly reminiscent of how Zack holds himself, though, of course, there is no way Cloud can match the other SOLDIER's stature.]

And don't worry about giving me a job too big. I can handle it. [His smile is easy and perhaps even a little bit cocky.] Now where should I start?

[ooc: Feel free to run into him anywhere if you want an action thread!]
pottershotter: (Don't be afraid)
[personal profile] pottershotter
[Throughout this event, James is...quiet. It's not the icy silence of his Mirror, but a quiet born out of nervousness and shame, and out of regret. It weighs heavily on him, and shifts with each movement. It's the quietness that comes from someone who is actively trying not to make himself stand out too much.

Except for right now. It's taken him a couple of days to work up the nerve to address the network at large (as opposed to privately asking one or two people closer to him), but there's something on his mind and...well, maybe someone else has come up with something, since he hasn't managed to.

Err. Hi, everyone.

Things seem a lately. And I know another one of those odd Wonderland folks turned up, so this is probably an event, right? At least, I think that's who that was. I'd never seen her before.

[He has immediate self-doubts about that, and it quickly spirals into doubts about the entire post. He glances anywhere but at the camera.]

Um, actually, nevermind. If someone figured it out they would've said something by now, right? Probably...

[Unsure of how to redeem the post from there, he quickly ends it there. Video replies are welcome, and for those concerned enough to look for him, he'll either be in his room, on the roof, or roaming around the grounds trying to keep to himself as much as possible. I'm not particularly picky.]
whatseparates: (from shade to light)
[personal profile] whatseparates
[This time, Jack's video is very much intentional, and very much in contrast with his last. He's looking directly into the camera, though one eye is swollen half-shut, and the other is in the process of swelling, due to the fact that his nose is spectacularly broken, and blood is beginning to pool under the skin of his eye sockets. The lower half of his face is covered in blood, but that's nothing compared to his coated hands and sodden sleeves. There's evidence of wounds elsewhere on his body, bloody spots and a certain care in his breathing that suggests something the matter with his abdomen and ribs, but his hands and arms are mostly untouched; the blood there isn't his.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, rough. Talking isn't any easier for him than it's ever been, but he has something to say, and he's driven by rage.]

I wanted to tell you all something:

Don't fuck with me. Don't fuck with my people. You won't survive it. And I know you'll come back--but maybe you'll wish you didn't.

Locked to Sinclair )
androidhell: (this isn't brave.  it's murder.)
[personal profile] androidhell
[ If there were to be a thing worse than GLaDOS shouting out to the entire mansion on this particular evening, it could be a number of things. Unfortunately, it's just another version of GLaDOS, one much less mild than her usual counterpart and with a much higher desire to rack up a body count. ]

I hope you've been enjoying your weekend. In case you haven't, I've left a few surprises around the mansion. If you can find them, you win! And you'll know when you've found them. Trust me. You're going to make a killing off this one.

[ Unsurprisingly, the malicious android has let loose a number of turrets in various places around the mansion. They can be easily tipped over, which will deactivate them, or just generally destroyed. However, they will fire bullets at a high rate if they spy a target, so. Move carefully.

More troublesome, probably, is the neurotoxin that she's flooded the library with, which will kill any unknowing user in five minutes. ]
screeee: (i'm cold)
[personal profile] screeee
[It's been weeks since she left. Since she went away. since she let her go

She fled to land, crawled ashore, hid in this great big house (right-side-up, and not as big as home), and stopped. Sitting in her new home, her smaller home, in a room that was dank and musty like the one she grew up in, lined with drawings from her Sisters... old and new, living and eaten...

The drawings were not perfect. But they were enough to help her remember the girls they imitated. Her memory didn't always work right, so any reminder was good, even if there was an undercurrent of wrong to it.

The reminders were good. Her memory wasn't, so the reminders were good. But they weren't. They made her think, about them, about her, about him... And she wonders.

Was it worth that burst of happiness from her Little Sister, when she took her father's hand and followed him away?

no. it wasn't.

she missed her.]

[It's late on the first day, when a plain text post appears on the network, with hardly anything to identify who it was from:]

How do you live without your Sisters?

[ (This version of her has also had had the time and calm to figure out the shift key.) ]
pig_and_pepper: ({ Flamingoes and mustard both bite. })
[personal profile] pig_and_pepper
[ A transmission, you see, must be like a song: Voice and instruments alike, playing its tune. Her instruments are the pans and pots, the clinking and clacking, the bubbling and boiling, the rustling of pages from the book of recipes in her hand. Truth be told, this particular song may be a little out of tune. ]

Mustard, custard, cream of eel. Salt and pepper, same old-- herrings?

[ Her eyes frantically dart across the pages- ] No, no, no! [ -searching line after line for the origin of this atrocity. ]

Here. 'Twas the wrong page in the right book, and you-- [ The Duchess turns sharply and glares, glares at-- at you. ] --could not even think to tell me sooner!

[ She rips page after page from her book, and stuffs them all into a big pot. ] Of course I'll start again, what choice do I have? But you had better do better this time!
onsilksheets: (pic#3852512)
[personal profile] onsilksheets
[Before making any kind of public address, Bela found herself in one of the tea rooms at random whilst she was exploring her new found 'home.' The truth was, she had been here about two days, spending most of her time snooping rather than speaking to anyone else. But one could only find out so much by themselves before they were forced to ask around.

When the feed clicks on, it shows Bela with a china cup in one hand and a biscuit in the other. She's attractive, her hair a light brown colour and if you looked close enough you'd notice the greenness of her eyes. Bela finishes the biscuit off, taking delicate, ladylike bites from it before brushing the crumbs away.

Now she's ready to talk.

What kind of place doesn't have an exit? That's something I've been asking myself the past few days while I was exploring this quaint little mansion.

[The English accent is clear and for once Bela isn't faking one nor playing a role. She is serious this time.]

It's beginning to frustrate me, being unable to go back the way I came. I can't stay here, I refuse to and I need to know the way out. [She holds back, reigning her anger in as much as possible. Not a good way to endear people to her, even if she didn't particularly care about their opinion.]

Now if anyone could help a girl out, I'd be ever so grateful.

[The last part is overly sweet and sickeningly so. Completely unlike her.]

((ooc:Feel free to action it up in the tea room! :D))
manhunthotline: (keep it down over there!)
[personal profile] manhunthotline
[With oddly apropos timing, given the recent appearance of the traveler, detective Benny Stango has arrived in the middle of a conversation with Mark Meltzer's answering machine--his last conversation with either it or the man himself, in fact. Without his noticing, the ground has changed under his feet from damp concrete to carpet, and the pay phone he's been clutching has been replaced by the Wonderland standard-issue communicator unit.

So the network gets treated to a low voice, sharp with panic and thickly-accented (the Bronx, if anyone was wondering). And he's shouting. Despite years of smoking, the man has a set of lungs on him.]

--Jesus, Meltzer, what is that thing?! I took a shot at it, it didn't even flinch! I ran the whole way back to the squad car--yeah, I gotta remember to clean the seat--jesus, Meltzer, I never believed you were right, I'm sorry! Just gimme a c--

[The voice stops, almost cut off. Stango's looked up, finally noticed the change.]

What the hell...?

[At least he's still blissfully ignorant of the whole hellhound issue.]

08 [Video]

Aug. 3rd, 2013 08:34 am
savespeople: (016)
[personal profile] savespeople
[Harry meant to sleep in a bit this morning, but weird noises kept waking him up. And they weren't just any weird noises: those were definitely howls that he was hearing. So he got up and did the first thing that made sense to him: ask if anyone else was hearing what he was hearing.

So, bleary eyes and all, Harry turned on the device to see if he was going mad, or hearing things, or imagining things.]

Um, hello. I just wanted to ask if anyone else was hearing howling coming from somewhere outside.

[He rubbed the back of his neck a little apprehensively. Howls could mean a lot of things, especially in the wizarding world, but also in general. He hoped that the howls were coming from just regular wolves, and not werewolves or anything like that.]

I mean, yeah, I could be imagining it, and I almost hope I am. Just thought I'd ask and see if anyone else is hearing it or not, because then I'll know.

[Know if he's crazy or if it's more of a collective thing.]
paper_knight: (flier)
[personal profile] paper_knight
Attn: Wonderland residents


-Do NOT engage her!

-Do NOT approach the beach alone!!

-DO watch for RED LIGHT.

-DO carry a bright light--portable--at all times.

-I WILL provide further information ASAP. PLEASE BE SAFE.
screeee: (Default)
[personal profile] screeee
[The camera is on, but instead of a face, all it shows is bright red. That's it, for about a minute or so, and then suddenly it's pulled away.]

[Now it's a dark form - not easy to make out at first, until it starts moving. Whatever is holding this device is either unaware that it's on, or doesn't care - the camera swings back and forth, showing flashes of a leg or a hip wrapped in leather and metal, and the ground - which is sandy. This is at the beach, and it's night, going by how well the red light casts on the sand.

The sand becomes grass, soon enough, and while the footsteps slow down, whoever is holding the camera is still moving at a quick pace.]

[And then, it stops. The device is still moving, up and down as whoever had it breathes harshly. The voice isn't just filtered through metal - there's something almost like an echo to it too, that can't just be from being enclosed.

Suddenly the device swings up, over a dark, round shoulder, and before it can focus on the back of its owner, the screen goes blurry, and nothing's heard but the whoosh of air, and then - crack]

[It doesn't break, but it bounces, and when it comes to rest, it's tilted, just enough to see the culprit at a dramatic angle:

A slender figure, silhouette broken up by pieces of armour, her harpoon, her basket, and her round, metal helmet. The red light emanating from the center of the helmet is pointed at the sky, her fingers curled and her body poised to start running again.

All of this might be difficult to really appreciate though, through the inhuman screech splitting the air.]


[This is too much for the device - the video gets fuzzy and shorts out for good. But that's okay, you probably could hear that just fine without it.]

[At a distance - there's the red light, and flashes of warmer, fiery bursts of light. But it goes dark quickly.

By the time anyone makes it to the beach to investigate, they will find large footprints in the sand heading in and out of the water, and patches of sand glassed over, like it was hit by fireballs. But stay on guard - Big Sister is always watching.]
alltheways: (You must run at least twice as fast)
[personal profile] alltheways
The worlds will crash again soon and it will be particularly unpleasant this time around. You have some time to prepare, but not much, so you must listen carefully.

On the third day from today, you will hear howls in the woods, but the creatures voice them will not approach until the following day.

The creatures that you'll face are powerful and tenacious, and will not stop pursuing their prey once they have a scent. But there are ways to hold them off! Salt will create a boundary they will have great difficulty crossing, and a well barricaded door may hold them off, though be careful not to trap yourself in a dead end.

Finally, a large enough explosion will destroy them, but be cautious. You don't want to catch yourself or any of your comrades in the blast.

In the future, I will see that you are warned sooner of crashes. For now, please use the time you have and survive. I believe in you.
worldentire: (Default)
[personal profile] worldentire
Hello again, Wonderland. That last little spectacle was a hell of a thing, wasn't it?

[ enjoy his customary lighter clink! and a low breath. ]

I noticed there are a fair few of us who don't feel secure in what we can do and what we have as it is, and I thought I'd help ease the tension up a bit. For a limited time, I'm offerin' some simple little pieces've tech I brought along with me from the rusty bucket I used t'live in. These little fellas are capable've keepin' you and any room you leave them in safe.

They're equipped with sensors to assess the danger and an automatic machine gun to dispel it, whatever it may be. No one will be capable've layin' a single finger on you without earning a few new body piercings for the trouble, and any creatures will have one hell of a time tryin' t'circumvent their watchful eye.

I know what you must be thinkin': Mister Sinclair, we don't have any currency here in the mansion! There's no way any've us can afford it! [ a slight chuckle. ] Well, sport, I'm here to tell you you've got the wrong idea. I'll give anyone who asks one of my bots absolutely for free, purely on the goodwill of keepin' the mansion feelin' safe and prepared.

And, just for the cautious: there's absolutely nothin' t'worry about as far as them ever goin' out of control: they'll be programmed t'keep you safe, and won't fire unless they perceive an actual physical threat t'your person. The manual can show you how t'make it learn who never t'shoot under any circumstance, as well, so you can set it t'keep your whole apartment safe or go after a friend in times of need.

[ click! comes the video, showing a bot hovering in the air, attentively focused at the camera and starkly lit by a light behind the camera itself. the room is otherwise dark, save for some soft coloured light in the background. ]

Just contact me with your name and room number and I'll send one of these beauties right on down, complete with care-and-keepin' manual and a round of ammo t'get you started.

[ ooc note: you may want to consult this post if your character is interested. ]
worldentire: (Default)
[personal profile] worldentire
[ the voice message is quick, but he sounds tired and run-down and just a bit cranky. ]

Is there any chance anyone's found a way t'keep these damn creatures from makin' noise? Mine's not exactly the best conversationalist. I'll take a wild guess of "no", but. Better t'ask than assume in this particular situation.

[ the message ends abruptly once some odd noise in the background kicks up. it sounds almost like whale song.. ]
donttestme: (8I)
[personal profile] donttestme
[The funny thing about memories, even when they're not being affected by a strange mansion world, is that they weren't always at the forefront on one's mind. There was a priority list there, and in Chell's case, there was a lot more on her mind before today's revelation: That the event had been probably been based on her memories, that the mansion had taken one of her memories, that because of the event, she'd handed out Aperture tech unthinkingly - and less focused on her: That there were others here with powers like Jack, that there was someone from Jack's world specifically, and that could be trouble. And more recently, that there was another event announced. What did that mean? Shadows were mentioned again - would there be a risk of her or Jack turning into a monster again?

Eventually, her mind takes a sudden left turn: Experiments - memories - the mansion and memories - that time she and Jack had relieved some of her time at Aperture - and then suddenly, the line of children's science projects. Cute, and in a faint way, vaguely similar to everyone trying their hand at science - and then hang a left and she's thinking about what was apparently her potato battery.

And then it hits her: The other experiment she ran.]

[Minutes later and Chell is stumbling out of the greenhouse, and making a post to the network.]

Don't go in the greenhouse.

[She almost... Looks embarrassed. Ahem. Excuse her, she's off to grab some massive shears...]

[If you venture into said greenhouse, you'll find it a little overgrown. Any calls Chell answers will have a backdrop of hanging green foilage, discoloured, bloated roots and potato eyes, or maybe even some flowers.]
justdewitt: (HUH)
[personal profile] justdewitt

[Booker DeWitt is a simple man with simple needs, but like any other man he gets bored. Tires of the same-old, same-old. Makes a conscious decision to hypnotize the doves fluttering around in the garden so that they run into each other.

Of course, you might be wondering how he's accomplishing such a thing, why, by the same means with which he sets a particularly lurid flower on fire.

With his bare hand.

Like we said, he's a simple man.
worldentire: (Default)
[personal profile] worldentire
Have you ever wanted a method t'defend yourself that doesn't need a weapon? Tired'a dealin' with guns that jam, knives that're knocked away, and hits that're easily blocked? Just need a way t'feel safe at night or from any've the nasties the mansion could throw our way?

Perhaps you'd rather keep yourself busy with a craft involvin' needles but you're sick've losin' the damn things. Perhaps you enjoy gardenin' and dislike the to-do rakin' can be. Perhaps you take care of horses or other animals that need constant brushin'. Perhaps you yourself need a constant hair brush on hand.

Well well, ladies and gents, I've got the product for you in the works. I'm in the market for a few test subjects, if any've you are interested in furthering the future've genetic sciences. Make a reply to this post and we'll see what we here at Sinclair Solutions can do for you.

[ whoops, that last part was automatic. he lets out an irritated breath. ]

Ahh.. At least, we'll see what I can do for you.
donttestme: (Long Falling)
[personal profile] donttestme
[Some of you may remember the last time Chell was jumping off the roof. That time, she was just doing it for the feeling of flying, of weightlessness, finding comfort in the familiar instead of interest in the unknown.

Her motives are a little different this time.

There are thick patches of colour littering the roof of the mansion and the grounds - it looks like paint, feels damp like gel, and acts like neither.

The blue stuff bounces, and Chell can be seen dropping things from the roof onto them, and watching to see which of what she's selected bounces higher, and -- well, not longer. Repulsion gel can last for a very long time, and the trajectory for objects rarely stay straight up and down, unless they could somehow steer themselves, and Chell does not have time to see how long she will continue to bounce on gel. There are experiments to run, there is research to be done!

There's another kind of gel on the roof: It's orange, and - slippery, for lack of a better way to describe it. Anything that slides down it picks up speed. She's not sure if it the speed maxes out - it's hard to monitor while she's on the gel, and there's surely nowhere in wonderland with a long enough stretch of ground ha ha ha ha ha, you're not thinking with portals!

There are two white panels about twenty feet apart, both about as tall as your average door. There's a glowing blue hole on one and a glowing orange hole on the other, and a thick line of gel forms an orange road between them. It looks like it continues through, but that's just an optical trick - obviously, these are portals, and what you're seeing is sort of a loop between them. Right now, Chell's just sliding an edgeless safety cube through it, but volunteers are (for once), welcome..

And finally, later in the day, after an elaborate set up of a propulsion gel runway terminating in a repulsion gel ramp a possible augmented fling from wherever she's about to land to an angled white panel on the roof, you can witness Chell flying through the air and landing an impressive distance away from the mansion, unharmed. It's fun, sure, but more importantly she's finding out how far she can physics herself away from the building. For science, obviously. Because you never know when you'll need to do an elaborate flinging loop to get away from something.]

[[ooc: so uh, choose your own adventure! I'll throw down comments for each thing and then you, dear player, can pick which odd physics breaking gel you want to mess around with, OR have Chell drop in on you for a visit! :D NOTE She will also give you some of this stuff, but only while drunk on the curiosity of science, so now would be the time to ask for your own physics breaking gel/dietary aid!]]
radiopalkiller: (my better side)
[personal profile] radiopalkiller
[ This thought isn't new. It's been on Philip's mind for a while, only getting louder and louder since the last time he died. You'd think the question itself was an old hat, but Wonderland has a habit of paraphrasing things, and so the issue still stands, good as new:

What happens if you die a fifth time?

His first solution to find the answer was only a joke when he mentioned it, honestly. It was a joke and (temptation aside) he had every intention of letting it pass that way. Only then the morning came and, watching the sunrise from the rooftop, Philip found himself typing up this innocent little inquiry:

Anybody feel like throwing himself off the roof five times for science?

[[ OOC: I don't have any particular plans for this post. Philip doesn't expect anybody to actually take him up on that offer and is mostly bracing himself for snark and/or objections, but any reactions are welcome! ]]
nascensibility: this one is my favourite (take you down to chinatown)
[personal profile] nascensibility
[Curiosity killed the cat, as they say, and Evelyn has had her fair share of incidents spawned from touching the wrong sort of things or reading the wrong sort of books (out loud, in a temple).

She has also spent a great deal of her life having others care for her, look after her, or generally be accommodating to ensure her well-being. With her husband gone and the weighty, substantial worry that she'll hardly be of any use added to the burden of a lost family, Evie has rather decided to take matters into her own hands.

That, and a poor encounter with a mirror left her feeling even more helpless than usual. Were it not for the engaging desire to experiment, she might have remained silent.

I need to know how to aggressively defend myself.

Experts in weaponry please inquire within.

[Blunt, perhaps, but to the point. Historians only waffle about when absolutely necessary.]
ahousedivided: I'd rather play the harp. (Come on. Let's hug it out.)
[personal profile] ahousedivided

[ The incomprehensible typing immediately switches to a very frustrated America cursing under his breath with language that would impress a sailor. He blinks once he realizes that the video is on. ]

Finally. These damn things-- handy, don't get me wrong, but whatever happened to writing? D'ya know how long it took me to learn how to do that? [ huff. ]

Okay, onwards. Show of hands: who here's American and who's from the much less handsome funsucker known as England? 'Cause it seems like the limeys are crawlin' right outta the woodwork.

[ His sour looks immediately brightens. ]

But if ya are American, I'd like to have ya in my sights! You're my responsibility, being your country and all. Gotta make sure y'all are fine and dandy and whatnot! And uh, all you guys who ain't American. I'm used to takin' people under my wings and... yeah, I know I'm kinda goin' through a lot right now, but my ports are always open. Er, metaphorically. And literally. Don't think it really applies literally here, though.

[ Awkwardly rubs his neck. That got a little more rambly (and a lot more insecure) than he intended. GOTTA SAVE FACE. ]

Anyone needin' some quality doctoring can also talk to me! Even though apparently some people don't think I'm quite up to snuff, I can tell ya that I have a great success rate and can stitch with the best of 'em. Plus, who doesn't want a treatment that prescribes the best medicine of all?

[ Grinning, he holds up a bottle of Wild Turkey.

So quality.
justdewitt: (well if you've got a better idea...)
[personal profile] justdewitt
Barely a day in this place and I’m already gettin’ thrown around like some kinda- Elizabeth!

[Booker sits upright, coughing up sand and all manner of other unpleasantness. He was so sure he’d seen that bird-thing fall into the water with them, with him, that it wouldn’t be coming out again any time soon.]

Look, I’ve still got my Sky-Hook, we can just attach it to the nearest line and...

[And what? To whom? It’s only now that Booker realizes he’s alone on the sand, with what looks like a fancy cigarette case sitting next to him. Digging it out and popping it open, he groans in obvious displeasure. Technology. What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned telegram?]

...Great. More stuff from Columbia’s best and brightest. Next thing you know we’ll be sending things by freak carrier pigeon.

[He shoots a suspicious glance at the water stretching out in front of him, as if daring the bird to return. It doesn’t.

Somehow, the lack of surprise attack bothers him more.
peggy_carter: (surprise)
[personal profile] peggy_carter
[A moment of fumbling and the device shows shoes, a sweep across the spines of books and then up to a face giving it a quirked look. The face is off center and high as someone without much experience might mistakenly use it.]

Howard? Is this one of your devices? Bloody thing is it even on?

I believe so, Howard it’s Peggy, I’m unsure where I am exactly…I remember heading to the archives but…well this is not them. I don’t know this library…. I don’t know where I am exactly.

[That seemed to sound the most troubling to her. And she fidgeted again, looking around.]

But I intend to find out. I’ll keep this thing and please Howard, if you are out there, contact me as soon as possible.
eatsyourscience: (Default)
[personal profile] eatsyourscience
[Souji's sitting on the end of the dock. He has a jar full of bugs he caught in the garden sitting beside him and he's holding a relatively simple fishing pole, just looking out at the horizon while he waits for a bite.

He picks up the camera and turns on the feed, looking out at the horizon. It's time for the obvious question:]

I wonder what really happens if you swim out too far.

[He's just bored enough to try it, even after his previous fatal test of the "what happens if you go too far into the forest" question.]

o1 // voice

May. 8th, 2013 02:11 pm
worldentire: (Default)
[personal profile] worldentire
I've spent a good few days now ruminatin' on my newest predicament, and it seems I'm not the only one confused on how t'go about the days now that they're presumably endless. I did a fair bit'a walkin', and let me tell you I'm not entirely shocked at what I saw.

[ he prefers voice, so one can hear his lighter clicking open and closed again and a deep, smoke-heavy sigh. ]

Now, I'm not one t'be blowin' my own horn, but it seems a fair amount'a y'all around here may or may not need some help, as far as the vendors down the way are concerned. What I've noticed from just a day or two of keepin' my eyes peeled is that many of you just don't know what t'look for as far as decent barterin' is involved for those items you really just cannot live without.

[ another long breath. ]

Now, if this is soundin' mighty familiar from some unfortunate happenstance you've found yourself in, feel free to call me here at this frequency and I'll talk you through all the basics you'll need t'know. I'm only aimin' t'teach those who really need the help, so you'd better prepare yourself to trade somethin' in return. If y'can't find somethin' for me, it's more than likely you're never gonna make it down with the vendors, so consider it a test.

Though, I'm more than willin' t'take a favor, if you're willin' t'help me out sometime in the future.

[ that sound you hear in his voice? that's a wicked grin. ]


LAYOUT BASE @ [community profile] fruitstyle