maevelous: ([ 11 ])
[personal profile] maevelous
[ The video actually starts before it’s supposed to. It’s just a close up shot of a woman’s cleavage. And when she speaks, it’s with an English lilt -- a bit distant as though she’s calling out behind her. ]

From my understanding, these devices are supposed to put us in touch with others who arrived here in a similar manner to us.


[ A little fainter, a second voice joins the first -- a man, this time, with an accent out of a John Ford movie. ] It don't look like much to me. How's it work?

[ The camera gets pulled back to give the first shot of Maeve who is studying it thoughtfully. And then she realizes it seems to already be recording them -- the recognition lighting up on her face.. ]

It appears we’re live right now. All we have to do is talk. [ She re-positions herself to sit up a bit straighter, glancing at Teddy before nodding at the device to allow him to make the first contact.. ]


[ Teddy takes instruction well, bless him, and tips into view at her shoulder, taking a second to be caught up in the little digitised mirror image on her device. He overcomes the inherent strangeness and prompts himself to speak, trusting in Maeve's advice. ]

Evenin', [ he greets, with a nod beneath the shadow brim of his hat. ] Name's Flood, Teddy Flood. Me and the lady are looking for folks like us, or who been here even longer. We figure there's more to this place than we've been told.


[ When nothing immediately horrible happens as a result of Teddy talking, Maeve deems it safe to do the same. Sorry, Teddy. It’s easier to make you the shield. But she does appear mildly amused at Teddy’s use of ‘the lady.’ As though he’s trying to avoid the much harsher truths of what she is. ]

Oh, there’s definitely more. There’s always more. We can’t trust our kidnappers to give us the full scope, can we? So if any of you out there can be darlings and help us fill in the blanks, we would very much appreciate it. Mr. Flood here is a skilled adventurer who can aid you in all of your quests, plights, or other such nonsense. [ Hand wave. ] And as for me, well -- I’m sure you can use your imagination, can’t you?

[ She smirks, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate, sensual slowness. ]

Do right by us and we’ll return the favor.


[ There'd been his own mild form of amusement at reference to his being an adventurer, accurate though it may be if also as euphemistic with regard to his line of work as he'd been as to hers, but the moment slides by without comment. Just the tiniest of smiles, mostly around the eyes.

Unperturbed by her offer of repayment, he nods once more at the camera, touching the brim of his hat in sign off. ]


Do wrong by us, we won't have a hell of a lot to talk about, now will we?


Come, darling. You can be more creative than that. [ Maeve says with a roll of her eyes. ] Or perhaps you can’t. [ Creativity might not be one of his higher parameters. ] I advise you all to not do wrong by us because you’ll very much wish you hadn’t. [ She flashes a sarcastic smile. ] But I believe that just about covers it.

[ Maeve’s about to end the feed, only to pause. ] Oh. One last thing. We’re looking for the people who live in… [ She looks off screen to read out the numbers. ] Nonah #005 and Maurtia Falls #008. If you live in either, could you be a dear and pop in to say hello?

002 | text

Nov. 7th, 2016 08:48 pm
hardedged: (no light)
[personal profile] hardedged
[ it's been a rough month for jessica — thanks to her arrival and reliving her traumatic memories with the devil himself. in between all of her alcohol consumption, she's had time to think because sadly, even hard liquor can't always numb the pain.

it's almost midnight, and she finds herself posting on the network. there's no username attached; she prefers anonymity for this topic. well, here goes nothing. ]


if someone's dead back home, is there any chance they can show up here?

and what if they're the goddamn devil? will the cops do something about it?

serious answers only. not in the mood for bullshit.

01 | video

Nov. 5th, 2016 08:45 pm
crackshot: (i'm not grumpy at all)
[personal profile] crackshot
So. This has been a long couple of days. [The look on his face screams 'I am just so done' so much that he doesn't even have to say it explicitly] Any recommendations for a good bar around Nonah? I got a lot of sorrows to drown and not enough booze to keep me going.

[See, now, he doesn't need deets on what's going down, he gets the gist from the other posts he's checked in on and what his little handy welcome pack told him, he pretty much has that down. As insane that it is. What he doesn't have is a good reliable watering hole and that just isn't right. No man should go days, hours or minutes without one.]

If I spend any more time sober, I might actually start reassessing my life and my choices and I don't have time for that kind of shit. So just help a guy out here. I don't mind if I got to pay a little extra for a good drink but I'm not exactly flushed with cash here so let's not go nuts and send me to like the ritziest place in town. Okay? Reasonable. Prices.

[Wait, he should really clarify here because when it comes to finding a bar, you can never be too specific in your wants.]

Just don't direct me to some dive where they water down the drinks or I will come down on you like the hand of God and smite your ass because seriously, don't waste my time or my money. That shit ain't cute and I will come at you. Sensible suggestions only.

[There's a long pause before he adds:]

While we're on the subject of things I need, I got one more request. I need someone who's good with this thing right here. [He means the device, he even gives it a little shake to just display what he means.] I got a few questions.
arsiento: (prepared to light him on fire in protest)
[personal profile] arsiento
[ The feed turns on shakily and abruptly, showing at first a view of mostly sky, but then it catches more blurry glimpses of scenery -- what might be recognizable as downtown Nonah, if someone were to squint or was just very familiar with the area by now -- as it moves again, as if being wrestled from someone. Voices can be heard above the fainter sounds of traffic, although there's the steady pulse of a nearby car stereo playing loudly and, occasionally, an engine revving.

Then the communicator steadies, being held at its owner's side; the camera now gives an un-aimed view the street, though at a somewhat diagonal, catching about half of the car in question in the shot. A guy's voice, about a foot away, says: "--the sickest shit I ever seen, man! Orale, show the guy, Angie!" And then the communicator moves again, the man holding it taking a step back as Angie breathes fire about five feet into the air. Only the fire and not Angie herself is visible on the screen, although within moments the speaker is stepping close again.

"You see that? It's legit, right? Just one selfie, man! Just one, come on!"
]


Then what, you'll finally beat it? [ Diablo's not speaking into the communicator, obviously, so his voice is muted, though still audible. ] I got nothing to say about no heroes, kid. Whatever you want? It ain't got nothing to do with me.

[ "Yeah, yeah, whatever! Damn, why you got to be such a bummer, dude?" The communicator raises again, rotating around to show two people: #1, a heavily tattooed man in a letterman-style jacket, "Diablo" embroidered on it like a nametag, looking impatiently at #2, who appears to be a teenager with slicked back hair ("AA" shaved into the sides), a lightning bolt tattoo on his neck, and large mirrored sunglasses. ]

Okay, how--

[ But, smiling delightedly, the boy waves into the camera, declaring: "Heeeey, imPorts! Que onda, stay crazy, guys -- we still believe in you! We got your backs now, so take it easy! Ride or die, man!" before he laughs and runs out of frame to join his off-screen friends; the car motor revs again. Diablo, still holding the communicator, does nothing for a moment except flick his eyes irritably and skeptically in that direction, then turns the camera around to capture the kids driving away. The car's plate reads "DOUBLE A". ]

Man, the hell was that. [ And now the camera once again rotates, his skeptical gaze gracing the screen. ] If that's what you all got around here, then no wonder they be importing in heroes like furniture.

[ Well... "heroes," as the still-dubious expression on his face may go on to suggest. He shrugs, then shakes his head. ]

But hey, y'know-- it's whatever. Anyone know where's a good shoe place around here?

001 | voice

Oct. 3rd, 2016 08:35 pm
hardedged: (in make up and play dumb)
[personal profile] hardedged
[ the network post begins with a disgruntled exhale. great way to start, jones. nice first impression. clearly, this mysterious new arrival is glad to be here. ]

I'll make this quick and painless. The name's Jessica Jones, and I'm looking for answers.

They brand us like cattle. Expect us to play house. Assign crapass jobs.

And of all the places to wage the Cold War 2.0, they pick fucking Florida. [ she scoffs, as if that's somehow the worst offense of all. ] How do we leave this shithole?

[ there's a pointed beat of silence, as she presses her lips together in contemplation. almost as an afterthought, she adds: ]

And where can I get a drink around here? The cheaper, the better.

1 / video;

Sep. 9th, 2016 07:40 pm
neverdied: (07)
[personal profile] neverdied
[The guy on the end of this video clearly doesn’t want to be doing this, hunched forward on an old couch in a dark room, staring distantly at something just off camera and only occasionally flicking his gaze back to the screen. He’s silver haired, stocky, decked in a worn black t-shirt that reveals arms full of faded tattoos, and looks awkward as hell, but even he knows he’ll have far more success in his request if he shows his face.]

I need money. [Gruffly said and to the point, his words sticking to a perfect monotone.]

A job. I need a job… another job. I can do whatever, doesn’t matter, name it. [There’s no sign of this being a joke judging by the unchanging, sullen stare, and it’s honestly better for everyone involved if he keeps it vague and doesn’t start listing off his credentials to the masses. It’d take a while…

A pause lingers for an uncomfortably long few seconds and then he’s leaning forward to turn off the feed, faltering just before he does so.]


Oh. And, uh. Good bingo halls, I need those too. Not Betty Black’s, I already know that one.

[And with that he’s gone.]
curled: (04)
[personal profile] curled
[ Oh you are all in for such a lovely treat on this fine afternoon! Dorian has decided to make his presence officially known in a fashion befitting of... well, something. It's taken him a while to adjust to using such a device, and he still doesn't know much about it, but he does know how to fake knowing everything. And that is the key to survival.

Or something like it.

He grins widely in greeting before tipping his head to the side and waving his hand in a mockery of a bow. ]


Hello out there. I've been told this will reach a wide variety of people and assured I'm not simply speaking to myself. Not that it's a terrible thing, of course, speaking to oneself! Especially when you have a voice as delightful as mine.

[ Ego, yes. He has one full and intact. ]

Now, then! For those who've not had the pleasure, my name is Dorian Pavus and I've found that over the years one can learn an interesting deal from someone new by simply playing a game. And who doesn't enjoy a little bit of entertainment? One of my absolutely favorites is word association. I'm sure there's plenty of you who are smart enough to know or assume what I mean, but for the others: I give a word and you tell me the first thing that comes to mind, then I—in turn—do the same and so on and so forth. We keep going until whenever it reaches a natural end or a question derails the game itself.

Simple, yes? [ He smiles again as if he's just taught a child a new trick. ] I'll start you all off with an easy one: Magic.
nastygram: (C:\bogosity)
[personal profile] nastygram
ok
so since c l e a r l y this network/glorified message board isn't used for anything actually important i'll ask it here

free cute phones (not sketchy at all btw). a file full of info on us (again: SO not sketchy). crappy apartments. roommates. big government. inter dimensional travel or w/e.
~superpowers~
this is all some special kind of bs but has anyone addressed the bs fact that the jobs we get assigned are like some kind of freaking joke
it's a little too insulting imo


has anyone gotten a job that they can take seriously
wizzardly: (Mr. Suspicious)
[personal profile] wizzardly
This - !

[is an angry wizard, actually, in a lovely little hotel room. A wizard who is only on his second glass of wine. But he seems to be referencing the movie he's waving angrily at his communicator.

It's "The Wizard of Oz".
]

- This is terrible! An absolute mockery, is what it is! I've had so many people bringing this up, and I think to watch it for myself, and I find - I find - right, so, the wizard is a fake. Let's address that first of all, shall we? They all go on this big quest to get to the wizard, and he's fake, but how did the people not realize that in the first place, that's what I want to know.

He doesn't even have a pointy hat.

[Rincewind waves a hand.]

It's all a bad message, is what it is! Making wizards look bad! And look, the whole thing about witches being green - I mean honestly, witches are scary enough on their own without all that. That's obviously added. And the flying monkeys -

[he shudders. Never mind, not addressing those. Those were terrifying.]

But I've certainly never heard anything about them melting with a bit of water. Even trained hydrophobes don't do that. Bloody ridiculous.

The whole thing is ridiculous, is what I'm really getting at. We're supposed to believe a scarecrow which can talk and walk about is brainless? Or what about it trying to get everyone to buy that the strange man with ribbons in his hair is "a lion"? And ignoring that whole bit about how this Dorothy person could have just clicked her heels the whole time, enchanted shoes aren't what they're cracked up to be in the first place, the University can tell you. Half of her would have probably been teleported back to Kansas faster than the other half, and that would have certainly been a bloody mess. Very gruesome.

Anyway, it was hideous and I don't understand why so many of you reference it in the first place.

[two thumbs down, says newly self-appointed movie critic Rincewind; only one and a half poorly-sequined stars.]

video;

Jul. 14th, 2016 02:05 pm
mirrordarkly: (You'd look good on my floor)
[personal profile] mirrordarkly
[[so after a week of aimless wandering and several failed attempts to return to the Dreaming or remove the tattoo on his wrist, the Corinthian finally decides it's time to say hello. Twin black lenses peer thoughtfully down at the communicator, their owner nestled in the shade of some nondescript building.]

It is a curious thing, to be out of place. They have done their best to make us fit, but ill-fitting it must remain for those who had purpose before. Ties are not as easily cut as some lesser materials, and I find these unwanted attempts to bind... [he hums] ...mm, an irritant. I doubt that I'm the only one.

[a pause. The Corinthian glances briefly down at the tattoo on his wrist, glowing in the shadow. He frowns, then returns his attention.]

...I am also aware that there are none here I know, and I am cut off from contacting them. So instead I would have your names and a word on your world, if you would give them. Or not - as you will. But it seems the only thing to do with a communicator is to attempt to communicate; there is no point to hiding in a false world. I will even begin, to make it more comfortable. [he adds, humored:] That is a rare offer from me.

[the nightmare touches a hand to his chest genially.]

I am known as the Corinthian, nightmare of the Major Arcana in service to the Lord Shaper, Lord Dream of the Endless.

And it is good to meet you.

video.

Jul. 2nd, 2016 06:00 pm
kickingand: (pic#10218566)
[personal profile] kickingand
[ Have one Dean Winchester, kicked back and enjoying himself, seated pleasantly enough at Lucifer's desk. Anyone who knows what that office looks like is more than welcome to comment about how he is not the big man on campus who should be sitting in that chair, what are you doing, Lucifer is going to kill you for this... But Dean just looks kind of amused and utterly oblivious to the fact that he's invaded Daddyfer's office. ]

Back home we've got just about everything but the boogie man. And I only say that I 'cause I haven't seen him - he's probably out there, hangin' around, waiting for someone to gank him. [ Dean shrugs. ]

But y'know. Ain't nobody's gotten there yet.

[ Clearing his throat and glancing up for a moment, Dean's gaze narrows as he thinks before he brings it back down again, looking all too inquisitive. ]

But see, what I want to know is, what's everyone else's idea of the 'supernatural.' [ He wiggles his fingers - spooky fingers!! ] I mean c'mon, the shit i've seen over the years, the things nobody else knows about, all the crap that people don't even know exists? I know it's there, I know it goes bump in the night, but if nobody else knows it's there, am I the only one who's callin' it a threat?

I mean- if nobody see's a wendigo walkin' through the forest, i'm still pretty damn sure it exists.

And then it got me thinking-- somewhere out there, there's gotta be a place where everyone knows this crap is running around free. Djinn and vamps and ghosts- like a monster mash that everyone's been invited to. Angels and demons, the whole shebang. And then what the hell makes it so goddamn spooky then? If everyone knows, then is it really so supernatural?

I mean- Hell, just like this place. We all got superpowers, what even makes it that super anymore? I'm not even talking about the difference between your ghosts and my ghosts because that's a whole different story, I mean I know my vamps are probably different from your vamps because with all this other-world shit? Someone out there's probably got ones that can't even stand garlic.

[ And that earns a significant snort. ] And I gotta say, that just makes it too damn easy.
anxiogenic: (Ethics [AU])
[personal profile] anxiogenic
[The feed begins to show Jonathan Crane the same as he was the last time: smart clothes, smart shoes, a clean tie and frames. Clean-shaven. Rational. Focused. He is calmer in his body language and more in his element.

He tries for a smile but finds it dropping off his face.

Irritating. If he is honest, he is all too aware of what lies before him. He fingers his tie, distracting himself. Then he gestures towards the camera.]


Hello. Can somebody please explain why it is I find myself stuck here? I believe that mismatched timelines stand corrected. Not for everybody, clearly. Though, perhaps the fact is... it's better for everyone that I'm still here.

[He furrows his brows, crosses his leg and steeples his fingers. Apparently he doesn't like being reminded of his counterpart, as his voice loses its calm tone.]

In the last few days I became aware of the actions of a terrorist who shares my face. I have no idea how he managed to commit his acts under your noses, let alone plan them in advance for months, but in the interest of transparency I want it known he was responsible for the videotape on the thirteenth of last month. Numerous people were hurt because of it. I imagine an explanation shall assuage your fears. He possessed a psychedelic power that produced psychological effects. A forced hallucination, essentially.

Come what may, I intend to heal the damage. And if anybody has an answer to my initial question, I would be grateful.
anxiogenic: (Restful [AU])
[personal profile] anxiogenic
[Crane is wearing clean clothes, new shoes, a new tie and frames. There is a clean-shaven appearance to his face. His eyes show rationality and sanity; he isn't staring intently at his captive audience. He's well-mannered, calm and polite - and doesn't wear that blackness that's special in the eyes of some.

Unfortunately, the people he'd spoken to this morning, those he had begun to find fascination in, had come over in a panic. Or a bad mood, perhaps. The reason for their avoidant behavior - and uncomfortable body language - is another matter.

A puzzling one.]


Good morning. This is Doctor Jonathan Crane.

I am a doctor of psychiatry. Psychopharmacology, to be precise.

Back home, I evaluate some of those brought to me by Gotham's finest, so it will come as no surprise to me to hear that some people here are mentally unwell.

[Awkward. He hesitates for a moment; then he crosses his leg and steeples his fingers, before angling his thumbs at the camera.]

My apologies. That is to say, I'm willing to lend a reliable ear if you wish to talk. About intimacy or anything else that scares you, really.

[He doesn't seem interested in talking about fear at all. His pull point is all wrong. The idea that he's a terrorist and an asshole hasn't been put to him yet. Someone has to drop the truth bomb. Also did he really just apologise?]

Moreover, if you're from Gotham, I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with you. Peculiar things have happened since this world spat me out.

I suppose talking to you will help, if you're even here...

[About? Uh, well, it's Gotham.]

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