falteringly: (pic#7596426)
[personal profile] falteringly
[ It's Saturday afternoon when the video finally airs, and unfortunately, Castiel looks a combination of uncertain, tired, and purely annoyed. He stands remarkably still, behind a podium in something that resembles a church. Or what a church would be if it was a television show. ]

Uh — [ Is there an echo in here? ] Hello - again. I'm Castiel, and this is... I'm not going to read that.

[ Which immediately prompts a cut, and Castiel is then sitting in a small room behind a desk with a wide shot of bookcases behind him. He looks a little more comfortable than before, though less than pleased that he's being forced to read from the stack of papers he's holding in his hands. Briefly, a letter rolls across the screen, and by the time Castiel's face is in view, he's frowning. ]

And I'm supposed to answer that? It's not relevant to any of this, and I-- All right. [ He looks directly at the camera. ] No.

I apologize for any discomfort you might have felt in the unintentional murder of that animal, but they do not go to Heaven. A soul is required to reach the Heaven you and countless others are familiar with. I suppose one has never asked if they rest elsewhere, and I would... like to believe that to be true. But no, it doesn't go to Heaven. [ This is awkward, so he just gives a short, very strained smile.

Annnnnnd moving on. The next question comes in the form of a phone call, and Castiel squints, recognizing the voice. ]

Who is this? [ There's a slight pause. ] Implying that you don't care means you should consider ignoring it. The belief that there is something more does not necessarily ensure the details are always correct. But I think that their... intention is in the right place. Find something you can put faith into, and never doubt that. You remind me of-- [ The video immediately cuts (yet again) to a waiting screen with the logo of the church, and when it finally returns to Castiel, the tie he wears has been pulled loose. Even his hair looks wild. He reads the next question slowly. ]

So, is everything the good Book says true or what? I don't understand. What specifics are you asking me to answer for you? Please send something else that isn't so generalized. Or badly written. [ He shuffles through the papers like he hasn't just insulted anyone and glances at the camera again, beyond it to the people who are there but unseen. ]

A-- what? A scam? They are legitimately trying to reach others through... All right. I suppose soul winning does sound-- We should still help them. [ His attention focuses on the people who may (or may not) be listening instead of those he's arguing with. ] If anyone is willing to help, someone is in need of money to spread the work of the Lord.

Don't worry, Okugbe Edekie. You will get what you ask for even if —

[ And with that, the network immediately ends the broadcast, flashing up ways to contact Castiel with other questions or concerns they might have. Thanks for tuning in! ]


Apr. 5th, 2014 11:46 am
larker: (pic#7513579)
[personal profile] larker
Has anyone here even tried leaving the country yet? I went to Bali last week and boy, that's a shocker. The result, not the vacation. I mean that is some serious Big Brother stuff going on there. I'm almost impressed, you guys should try it. I didn't even book anything, it only took four seconds to get to Bali and it still happened. If you're actually very paranoid about Big Brother watching you, then maybe don't try leaving. You'd be a meltdown waiting to happen.

And before anyone asks; yes my vacation was great. It was time away from all you knuckleheads, with your terrible television shows and your crappy charity events.

[No prizes what he's bitter over. At least his nametag is now properly showing as Gabriel.]

So yeah, I have to give Loki his name back now. Thanks for that Lucifer, you're a peach.


Apr. 1st, 2014 08:26 pm
goodbadimthguywiththgun: (Killer Elite)
[personal profile] goodbadimthguywiththgun
[There is a 6'1", 200ish lb. man staring you down; the man is dressed in a very...interesting-looking suit. The mask isn't on, but what you see looking back at you is a tired, stern face that, yes, has a handlebar mustache on it. His wrist-magnums are not on.

The man is smoking and standing, glocks akimbo.

Behind him, there are display cases and exhibits, pertaining to various weapons, in a nice, marbled setting. Notably, nothing is on fire.
] Alright. After the events of th'past few weeks, people've been scared of goin' into museums. I was told this morning that attendance at the Museum of Weapons, where I work, is at its armpittiest low in ten years.

And you know what else the Head Curator told me? Head Curator here told me I gotta keep perspective. That, at least, we still got the museum. That we oughta keep on doin' what we're doin', beef up security, but otherwise act like nothing happened.

[A beat.] I'm gonna go one step further and issue one warning.

This here museum is under my protection. Anyone even joke 'bout getting lighter fluid from th'nearby convenience store and droppin' by to test it out, you're goin' on th'banned for life list.

You mess with this place, I mess with your face.

Made that rhyme so nobody's got any excuse to forget it. [With that, the transmission cuts.]

voice ||

Mar. 3rd, 2014 11:55 am
humanistic: (listen - we all know rats like cheese)
[personal profile] humanistic
[There’s a second of white noise, first, and then abruptly: a serious smoker’s cough--not someone clearing their throat, but someone coughing like they've been smoking for a hundredsome years.]


[Decidedly voice, not video--Mitchell’s tone is a little rough too, like he’s not exactly recovered from his cough just yet. Irish accent, nice voice, even if he sounds slightly embarrassed about the whole starting-with-a-cough thing.]

Look, I’ll make this quick. Most because--no offense--addressing a whole lot of unseen people is really weird. Don’t know how any of you got so comfortable with doing it. There’s a lot of weird shit here and I guess that’s the most minor of it, but come on. Way more narcissistic than bloody Twitter, even.

[An awkward pause, now, because what he’s got to ask, he’s not sure he wants to ask at large. Not with his name attached to it.]

These, uh. Files. The ones they gave us. What I’m wondering is, since we’re all from different worlds-- [Yeah, right, still not sure about that one; his scepticism might reflect in his tone a little.] --how the hell are they going around getting information on everyone? And why? ‘Cause they’re clearly not reading their own files very well if they’re casting every single person as a hero.

And while we’re at it, why isn't everyone more fucking indignant about some government organisation wire tappin’ your houses and going through your rubbish bins t’ get all this information on you? Thought America was s'pposed t’ be a country of people protective of their own freedoms, but I guess if we're all kidnap victims, we're just more relaxed in general? And I've not seen a single massive hamburger the whole time I've been here, by the way, so I’m a little disappointed in America in general. Way to fail t’ live up to the stereotypes.

...That’s all.

I: [video]

Mar. 1st, 2014 12:39 am
closetshark: (creepershark)
[personal profile] closetshark
[There is a very long view of… nothing, it's as if someone turned on the video function and simply forgot about it. There is however, subtle movement in glittering black across the screen. Whorls of shadow that suggest something there, watching the viewer right back and silently judging them. The voice that speaks is lightly amused, and the accent european.]

How very… predictable you all are. Kidnapped by some organization you've no idea about who tell you they're the good guys, that they're trying to protect their world and you're just the one to help save it.

[There's a snort of derisive contempt.]

It's almost disappointing really, someone tells you you're special and gives you a little ceremony and you just go along with them because you trust them. You'd think some of you may be a bit more cautious or at least wary of these people.

[He sighs, and a saccharine sweetness comes in to his tone as if he's talking to people he sees as stupid.]

Then again, I suppose trusting the hand that feeds is so very human. You get a nice little home, fed and entertained so it's all okay. There's nothing wrong with them wanting to help you poor misplaced things, after all it is their fault you're here. You just have to do some teensy wee things for them in return for so much.

[His eyes appear, blazing and golden in the darkness.]

Is being an attack dog for them worth it? Being collared and chained and unleashed on whatever they say you have to take care of sounds more than a little suspicious don't you think? How do you know they won't make you kill someone who doesn't truly deserve it? How do you know they're really the side you want to be on?

I've seen this before, you know. I've seen it time and time again. Some group or another gets all these powerful people to do their fighting for them and slowly, oh so slowly, they're sending you to put down this rebellion or take care of that group they think is a 'threat'…

[He grins, teeth sharp and dangerous in the dim light as he allows some of his face to be seen. There's a threatening tone to his voice, a malicious amusement to his words.]

How soon until the ones they're sending you to kill are children? How soon until you're chasing down writers and artists? How soon until you're torturing people for them?

How soon until you're the bad guys?

How soon until you're the ones who need to be put down like the rabid dogs you'll be?

[He laughs sharp and harsh.]

Have fun while it lasts.


Feb. 19th, 2014 04:24 pm
reptiledysfunction: (frowny talking)
[personal profile] reptiledysfunction
[a pause, as he fiddles with the communicator and managed to switch on the voice.]

I've got to say, this is already better than the last time I was kidnapped and brought to a different world. [because remember Secret Wars? fuck Secret Wars. Curt pauses a bit before he talks, trying to carefully choose his words. There is no nice way to say "I can turn into a giant lizardmonster, why am I living with people" is there. so, he decides to bypass that bit entirely.]

I've lived in Florida before-granted, it wasn't this Florida in this world, but if anybody has any questions about the climate or anything like that, I'd be willing to answer them. [there's a chuckle.] Though, before you ask, I don't know how the Dolphins are doing-or if this universe even has the Miami Dolphins to begin with. [ha ha, that was a joke (sort of.) another tentative pause, before he finishes with.]

Anyway, my name's Curt Connors. It's nice to meet all of you.
swordedpast: ♦ official art: fate/unlimited codes (let no idea of love; piety; or even)
[personal profile] swordedpast
[ video ]

[ Archer stands in one aisle of a small supermarket, staring grimly at a shelf not currently visible. Finally, he speaks. ]

An entire aisle of variations of something called "Hamburger Helper." I see. The situation here is really more dire than I imagined.

[ There's only a faint hint of sarcasm to his voice--maybe even less than usual. He's really affronted by this, as much as he might try to deny it. ]

I had hoped to hold off on sharing this guide I'd prepared, but it seems it can't be helped. Here. I'm giving you my wisdom as someone who's had to learn a thing or two about cooking over the years, so appreciate it.

[ Click. ]

[ switch to text ]

I've compiled a helpful guide that this place's cuisine seems to be in need of. Please take note.

Places "Jell-O" Belongs
♦ On a plate at the bedside of an ill person who cannot hold down solid food.
♦ In a quivering mass in front of the swords and spells of our heroes in a roleplaying game.

Places "Jell-O" Does Not Belong
♦ Anything referred to as a salad.
♦ Seafood dishes. Seafood dishes.
♦ An entire cake.
♦ Any mixture of vegetables, whether or not you consider it distinct from a salad.
♦ Near, around, beneath, or on top of eggs.
♦ Mixed into liver pate.

Attached: a nightmarish image. Access carefully.

Additional note: mayonnaise also does not belong in most places you wouldn't put jello.
dragony: is spending all day with you (n - the worst that can happen)
[personal profile] dragony
There's a number of new faces around here. But, in a way, we're all relatively new faces to this neighborhood. Maybe it would make more sense to say, this is a new experience for some, and an old for others. Isn't that right?

[ The voice speaking is a level, feminine voice: teenager, middling pitch, with words that are well-enunciated. While there is an accent—noticeably not American—it's caught in a threshold between others, and difficult to place.

It's hard to tell if she sounds bored, or if that's just how she naturally talks.

To get everyone on the same page, I thought it would be best to tell you how we came here, and what came before. It's something of a long story, though, and I'm not the best person to tell it, but better something than nothing. Right? Though, if you're not interested, you can skip the rest of this broadcast.

The "world before" this one, the one people mean when they refer to "the City," was Earth. Another Earth, similar enough to this one, and to the Earths you may have known—"the City" was their name for "New York City," if that means anything to you. At some point, a teleportation device was built, and on October 10th, 2008 by its calendar, and by this one, the "Porter" was activated, and brought the first "imPorts." At that time, it was controlled by an artificial intelligence in a suit of armor, but that being was later destroyed by the artificial intelligence of the Porter itself.

She calls herself Lachesis. Like the Fate.

For five years, she controlled our lives there. She determined who was imPorted, who was exPorted; who would return there with their memory intact, and who would not. If they would come back the same, or from some different history than the one we knew. She determined who was raised from the dead, if we died, and whose soul never came back. She could change the powers we were born with, and she could take them away. She could change our species, as it suited her. She's capricious, a fan of practical jokes and snide cruelties, and chess. Hers was the voice that welcomed us as "heroes."

Two years after it all started, she changed that world. Countries emerged, fully realized, emerged from nothing. The history of that world was rewritten; the memories of its inhabitants, too. The damage done by her enemies, erased. Those of us who were there could remember what the world was like, before she changed it, but we're the only ones who could.

After that, our shared enemy was Vulcanus. Others can tell you more about them, but they wished to take what made us powerful and use it to their own ends. Kidnapping, torture, genetic experimentation—that sort of thing. [ Though the content of the statement is serious, "torture" may as well be synonym for "toothbrush," for the easy, careless way she says it. ] But, when they could not... that is to say, "beat us," the way things were, they sought to gain power on other worlds, other dimensions. And we would follow them. Not by choice, and not with any sort of plan, but for months and months, you couldn't trust that placing one foot in front of the other would land on the same ground.

We're rather weary of traveling, I think.

In one of those worlds, we met her "sister", Clotho. But the third of them... you may have already heard. She destroyed that world, were we lived before. I don't... I'm not sure how it all happened, in the end, but in rescuing Lachesis, she saved us. Brought us here, to this world.

I can't tell you much about the state of this world, but there's two things I do know. One, large gatherings will almost always end in some chaos, so you should be prepared for that. And two, you can't trust people to act in anybody's interest but their own. The people of this world will not be kind to us for kindness alone.

[ There's pause enough that it might be mistaken for the end of the broadcast, before: ]

We should decide on names for all of these different worlds soon. This sort of thing will only get harder to explain later on without them.
heartstings: (☠ what you have)
[personal profile] heartstings
[The video is a little dark -- it's still the early hours of the morning -- but Kenzi can be made out with her messy hair -- some leaves and twigs stuck in it. She looks calm despite her disheveled look, calm unless you get a good look at her eyes. There's a lot of rage there. A lot. Of rage.

Her lips twist for a moment before she presses them together, brow knitting as she closes her eyes and takes a breath.

This is the last place I want to be right now. Why the hell am I here again? Why couldn't I have just stayed home? Why? Why?

Fucking why?!

I just--

I am so--

[As she speaks her voice shaking a bit, it's clear she's having trouble keeping her emotions in.]

I just need to--

[She lowers the comm as she leans forward, the video is dark as if the comm is pressed against her chest. The audio is a little muffled as Kenzi screams as loud as she possibly can. A scream that lasts for nearly a solid minute. A scream letting out some of that pent up anger and anguish that she's been holding in. The sound of something crashing can be heard, probably just some trees.

After a few moments of relative silence Kenzi's face appears again, a bit red now. She doesn't look at the comm, her eyes focused somewhere else as she raises her left hand to push back her hair. Anyone paying attention will notice a rather sizable ring on her ring finger. When she speaks again it's softer.

I guess there's no changing anything.

[The corner of her mouth twitches as she glances back at the comm then switches off the feed.]


maskormenace: (Default)