wickedwest: (Because They Wouldn't Have Happened)
[personal profile] wickedwest
Seems to be a recurring problem here lately. People disappearing, being lost, just missing in general.

[And while she's sure that's all very important to the people affected by it, it isn't to her, so she'll just continue being completely nonchalant about it.]

Not sure why it's happening, could be Wonderland, could be something else. Don't really care what it is to be honest.

[That's about where her flippancy about the whole thing ends. Now she's mostly bitter. Probably not really a surprise that she's annoyed about something.]

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be affecting things that I rather wish it would. A pity, really. Then again, it's about what I've come to expect from this place. Seems to rather enjoy keeping me from getting what I want.

[Yeah, she's sort of mad that none of the people she dislikes have disappeared or whatever. And she's decided to vent about this in public because that will totally make things better.]

I suppose I should just be grateful there's no singing or trips to a certain town or anything else like that accompanying this.

[She's still angry about those events. Probably never going to stop being angry about them either.]
notmymccalling: (RunningOutOfTime)
[personal profile] notmymccalling
[He just found out Lydia was okay (as okay as someone living through that could be) just a few days prior, then Isaac... Isaac's been gone several days since then. He'd tried to find him, and turned up nothing. With things the way they are, he's been a bit on edge since Stiles and Derek never came back. Now Isaac. He was losing his friends, his family, his pack one by one. So he went to visit Isaac's room to see if he'd come back or to follow up with Allison. Neither were there, so a look around their floor and a few messages and long waiting later to reveal something disconcerting.

The feed opens and he tries to look calm, but the dark, sleepless circles under his eyes might give him away.]

Has anyone seen Isaac? He's been kinda not around lately and that's unusual. I was hoping he was just... I don't know what I was hoping. [He fidgets and looks away for a bit, making it somewhat obvious that he does suspect something's wrong, but is hoping it's nothing.] Now I can't find Allison. Maybe I'm overreacting, but if anyone's seen either of them, can you let me know?

[He doesn't want to bother Lydia with this so he doesn't want it to seem like he's panicking if she does happen to catch his post. She's been through a lot lately. She doesn't need this, too.]
ceruleans: (Mystique - scared)
[personal profile] ceruleans
[The video feed is understandably distorted by the fact that the camera is sitting on its side on the floor. There's a familiar blue pair of feet walking over shards of broken porcelain, uncaring of the cuts that she's probably incurring on herself.

More jarring than that, though, is the sound of freshly-breaking plates as they smash against the wall of her room. It's something that she picked up while she was waitressing - it's one of the few things that actually helps to calm her down. It doesn't seem to be working this time around, though.

She's shouting in a flurry of languages -- Vietnamese, English, French, German -- but the sentiment is easy to pick up. She's not just angry, she's mournful and desperate.

This place has taken the one familiar person she'd finally begun to mend fences with away from her. After a week of false memories, maybe she's taking it harder than she should be.

Or maybe she's just been in a more fragile state than she can admit since she got here. She hadn't had much time to process what had happened with Trask and Nixon, after all, before getting dropped off in this place.

Eventually she slides down onto the floor, her knees meeting the broken plates. It's at this point that she realizes the camera's on.

Of course. She can't even have this private moment. Well, since the thing is on ... ]

Erik Lehnsherr isn't here any longer, if anyone else cares.

( video )

Oct. 13th, 2014 08:24 pm
unharnessed: (Default)
[personal profile] unharnessed
[ he turns around. that’s all it takes. he turns around and the world as he knows it has vanished along with the little girl that’s supposed to be in his arms. he shouts her name ( and the names of the rest of his family ) until his throat burns raw and it hurts to keep yelling but he can’t stop. he doesn’t know if any of them answer him because his ears are still ringing; he can’t hear anything. the explosions rocked the field he stood in and part of him is still waiting for another bomb to drop and to engulf him in flames or another trap of the Espheni’s design.

simply one of the many reasons that drives him to do something he wouldn’t normally be proud of. normal left the building years ago when the aliens invaded his planet. if holding a young woman at knife point is the way he has to get their attention, then so be it. she’s the one he encountered first. it has to be for a reason. he hopes the fact that he found this device planted in his pocket means that it's still functioning.

If you can see this, then I want you to listen very carefully. [ his words are exceptionally measured and articulate. he knows what he wants to say and how to say it from years of playing the messenger. being practiced never makes delivering bad news any easier. the discomfort is obvious for those wise enough to spot it, but his duty to his family comes before everything else, even his morals. ]

This isn't what you... [ the girl currently at knifepoint tugs a bit at his arm. clearly (or clearly enough for anyone who knows her) not trying her hardest to escape. she doesn't seem to notice the fact this is being recorded, or just doesn't seem to care, her attention more on her captor than anything. ] -think it is. If you'll just listen-

I’m through listening. [ he tightens his grip around her, struggling slightly to keep her under his control. is she stupid? does she want to die? it only proves his point that maybe she isn’t real. if she keeps this up, he’s only going to press the knife harder against her throat. ] Here’s what’s going to happen: You’re going to return my sister to me and tell me where the rest of my family is, or [ and he sighs, forcibly pushes the last part of his sentence out. ] people are going to start dying. Starting with her.

[ her eyes widen, then, like it suddenly sinks in that this guy is serious. it's the death threat that does it, something shifting in the lines of her face. she moves - subtly enough, as far as the camera is concerned. a sliding of her feet for balance, her hands moving for a better hold on his arm, and then she drops low in her stance. the exact moment she does that, she tugs, hard, pulling him over her shoulder and the camera goes with him.

sorry, ben. you don't really want to put a knife to the throat of a girl who's been training with black widow.

the feed is upside, tilted, thrown off somewhere a little ways away where it only catches a canted view of her legs as she walks over to where he'd fallen - not much more than a black mass against the grass. ]

Okay, now you're going to hear me out.

[ movement, and then the feed cuts. ]


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