bulwank: @gotnaked (Default)
[personal profile] bulwank
[Standing, somewhere- high up? Probably on a building. A nice, drastic slight upwards angle, not that he needs to be given the extra height for intimidation's sake. And he's holding what appears to be a whip, in both hands, held tight between them.]

Registered imPorts! I am Gamagori Ira, and this is official imPort business!

We are all aware of our rights here, aware of the dos and don'ts as far as that's concerned, and talk of how we feel by that should be left to another time. [Referring to most of the topics on the network here, which seem to be around that main concern. But this is BUSINESS, and the network is very useful in getting people's attention-

Not that he need helps. With Gamagori's power Attention!, your character might find it really hard not to focus on what he's saying, as if compelled to do so.]


But as registered imports we have made an agreement and must follow through!

I speak of course, about the monorail and the footage shown to us of it's destructors! [Flings his hand out, pointing, body turning and using his other hand to to firmly crack the whip he was holding, it sounds out loud over the network.] Do you hear me, lawbreakers?! Offenders to society and ORDER! We will find you if your morality does not lead you to succumb to justice first! Step forward or feel the sting of something more painful than any whip. True sting and pain of punishment awaits you should you hide like rats!

Registered imPorts, I trust your eyes are peeled, and if you have any information, or a means to get it, now is the time to let it be known!


And to those of you who aren't useful as far as information's concerned, do not fret, the city still needs plenty of help with cleanup after the sabotage. You are expected to assist and I suggest you do so immediately!

text.

May. 13th, 2014 12:45 pm
selfequipped: (awesome profile pic.)
[personal profile] selfequipped
[The silence of Matt's office on Tuesday morning was a relief for Kate. It gave her time to think, to sort out her thoughts, and try to figure out where to go next. Given everything (given Miami and Nonah), it's difficult to figure out where to begin. But she has to begin somewhere ... and provide at least one announcement of her own.]

Hi, it's Kate again. I guess you can all see that, and don't get me confused with our other fabulous Kate. I couldn't do red hair if I tried it, and I especially couldn't work it the way she does.

I wouldn't do this as a textual communication, but there are a few things of note to cover! From my perspective, one of these is self-interested, but the rest of it is hopefully of interest to you.

First, I've joined with Matt Murdock at his firm as a secretary. It's grueling work. Very grueling. I sharpen pencils at least three times a day. But if you missed his wonderful message, we're two unregistered individuals making it in this world, and we haven't received any penalty.
[The "yet" is typed and then backspaced. It's only typed and backspaced for her own benefit. She likes seeing it.]

The other half of my duties will be as a private detective. I intend to use the ability granted to me by the porter—psychometry—to advance my investigations, but only when needed. I'm offering my services to people here, but I'll be conducting my own investigations when they come up. Some of you can guess why. [She is still a superhero, anyway.]

The rest of the information is relevant to circumstances that have passed. Kanaya made a very good point, but I think we also need to be aware of the government's involvement in everything. I've been skirting around it, but I'll be more straight forward now.

1. Captain Holiday told me that the freedom and rights that we have offered to us are far more than we're supposed to be getting. We're lucky, and he's looking out for us. I'll grant him that, but that means there are people in the government who disagree with this decision, and if he was removed from his position, we'd be seeing a very different tune. I wouldn't be surprised if we are in certain areas.

2. However, Captain Holiday also lied to me when I asked about the porter. To clarify, he said they never had control over the porter, when evidence in this world's history books say something entirely different. While they had control over it before, they no longer do—or so he says. I don't know how much of his information is informed by our public communication, but he claims that Lachesis synced up with the porter prior to the first string of imPorts' arrivals. When that happened, they lost control of the porter.

These combined facts make me think they do lack control of the porter.

3. We're only given information on a need-to-know basis, but that's a given.

4. Attacks aside, I'm still left wondering why they want us to go to Mars. Go ahead with your conspiracy theories, because I've definitely thought of all of them. None of them are all that great.

5. The government does have a way to track us if we leave the country. I think we can all put two and two together on how much of our activity they can keep an eye on at any given moment.

6. There is a Homeland Security here because of the Cold War between ourselves and Russia.

I'm not saying that the government is behind the attacks. I think that wouldn't be very smart of them, and it'd be a risky decision. We imPorts aren't coming out looking rosy after them, because we look like a threat to their people. They could easily cut their ties to us if they wanted, and they haven't yet. I think that's something we have to consider as a future possibility, but no time soon.

That said, in reference to Kanaya's message, the government did have Eden East put on a great party for all of us, and there were several strange things that came out of that. The disease, the room that started to feel like it was fire, and the bird that attacked us all. That was a government sanctioned event, and not everything appeared to be a threat from an external source.

I do think we're in a position where we need to line up the acts to find answers, so this is the information I've found. I'm eager to welcome more information from all ends. I think we've all had very different experiences so far.

Thanks, and as always, feel free to ask questions.
glowsferatu: glow, rude (pic#4904309)
[personal profile] glowsferatu
[ kanaya is out on the beach, but she certainly doesn't look like she's enjoying it. instead of a bathing suit, she's wearing work gloves and boots with her sleeveless blouse and shorts, a roll of garbage bags on her belt and a rake propped up nearby. most of the larger debris has already been cleared, but when you tear apart robot sharks, they tend to leave a lot of smaller pieces, and someone has to clean those up.

of course, she's not about to address the network while in the middle of working. so this is her break, her long legs crossed and a bottle of deep red liquid in her lap, a lit cigarette in her hand. the comm is propped up some feet away to keep her hands free. she looks, to put it simply, very cross. but at least she has something to take her mind off of what day it is.
]

Mechanized aquatic carnivores. Of all the things to send, this was their choice. [ she takes a drag and rolls her eyes before continuing, looking very pointedly at the camera. ]

I think it's time we had a talk, the lot of us, because this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Just on the heels of the monorail collapse, yes, but there was also the incident in February. A certainly random giant avian attack is followed by the spread of a virus that is very specifically import-targeted. Yes, an antidote was found, but had we ever traced its source?

This was an inevitability, I think, that despite the friendly posturing, there are those on this world with a much less hospitable reaction to our presence. I think that's worth examining. Investigating. If we have enemies, we need to know who they are, and how to protect ourselves against them. [ she glances to the side, offscreen, as if checking if something's still there. ] I get the feeling we won't be the only ones doing so, and I do hate being behind on these matters.

[ she ashes her cigarette and lets out a sigh, propping her forehead on the back of her hand. four months of relative peace had been nice. she knew it had to end eventually, but seeing it on the horizon leaves her no less weary. ]

Those of us who are refugees from the City may find the Vulcanus Foundation suspicious already, and with their transdimensional capabilities and Eden East's proximity to one of these events, perhaps that is justified. And perhaps it's simply an unfortunate choice of name. Those loyal to this nation may be more likely to suspect the Russians, but I think attributing everything to them would be largely scapegoating.

I don't know. I don't have answers, I simply think the questions need to be asked. Collectively.

[ and with that, she leans forward to cut the feed. ]
ktfod: (glass jaw)
[personal profile] ktfod
[There might be a snap and fizz from your iphone before anything, which might make it seem like the damn thing just broke on you out of no where. Feel free to check it and curse while you look it over but as you do an audio post from the network opens up. Another fizz, static, some crackles of energy and then just some good, ol' fashioned white noise before there's a voice. Still static laced at first.]

Ah, and I didn't think this thing was too hard to use... new powers- is this what they meant, damnit- I feel like I just- oh...

[He- realizes it's on, dang. It shifts over to video but the image of the grey haired boy looks- rough. Like it's a botched transmission, or kind of out of range. His brows pinch, the red of his vest is the easiest to make out.]

Hey- Akihiko Sanada here. I'm a new imPort, and yeah I got the idea of what's going on here, and from talking enough with those in charge I also got the idea that we're stuck. Fine. But- ah... [An anxious sigh. God he feels- dumb here. Come on, man, get to the point of the post.]

What the hell is with these communicators? Is it just me? My whole body- it- it was like static now- it's all dark.
yatagarasu: (FLIGHT ☄ catch me if you can!)
[personal profile] yatagarasu
[The first thing you hear is a teenage girl's voice grandly announcing her first few lines over the network. There's no video just yet.] 

When the night grows dark and no one dares to fight, one bird alone rises to answer the world's plight! When the truth seems lost and there's nothing but lies, a heroine will cut those lies down to size! Behold, the modern-day Robin Hood, the noblest thief you'll ever meet...!

[3...2...1, we have video!

The video starts with the big, excited smile of, yes, a teenage girl. She places her communicator somewhere so people can get a good view of her rather ostentatious outfit, including the giant key in her ponytail, the dark blue scarf and the badge pinned to it. Then she spreads her arms wide in a grandiose pose.]


The Great Thief Yatagarasu!

[She puts down her arms and shrugs, still very bubbly.]

I'm Kay Faraday, but you can just call me Kay...'kay? [RAISE YOUR HANDS IF YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING.] I've pinched myself several times and all of them hurt, so I'm guessing this is all real. [Kay does not seem bothered by that at all.] Not only that, they say I'm a hero, but I still have to go to school. [A sigh. Kay folds her arms across her chest and pouts briefly.] Shouldn't I be going to superhero school? Superschool? If this were really a dream, I shouldn't have to go to school!

Guess we can't have everything. Maybe if I save the world enough times, I'll be excused from school for forever! [She looks like she's seriously going to test that theory once she gets out of the house.]

[Residents of #007 beware, she is in her room now, sure, but you may also find her after this transmission exploring her new home.]
nestingdevil: ➥ pantaloons@dreamwidth (♠ } let's strike a bargain and see)
[personal profile] nestingdevil
[The recording starts with a catch of a ceiling made of low-grade wood. It's alight with a sickly red-yellow; fading with each wafting-pass of spindling smoke. The lights above are older and the bulbs have obviously seen their fair share of cigarette smoke and dust. They bleed bleary through, but it's a dim effort at best.]

[For the most part, the place seems rather quiet - the lull spinning of a fan blade above, some sort of tune playing out a jukebox nearby: "-wraps her lips around the Mexican coke, makes you wish you were the bottle, takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like - "]

[But a sudden clanking of glassware interrupts the surface and then:]


Oi, oi, oi - careful with that, won't ya?

[The voice is low; swayed by a baritone, humming out each note. However, despite the chiding, it seems pleasant enough. A bit snide and sing song as a palm and accompanying fingers snatch at the feed. For a moment, it's a bit of a washout. The bar cut-off by the smothering hand before Greed rights it again. The angle catches his jaw line, his rather signature smile. Laced to the brim with teeth to match as he snaps his fingers to someone off camera.] We just opened, you know. No need to make things messy, all right?

[The phone's propped up; shoved at a vertical angle a bit carelessly to catch a glimpse of the owner's back and shoulder. Before it clacks dully against the side of a bottle, showing off a growing collection. The place is hardly worth a second look at; dusty and dark. Grim like the next back alley hell hole and Greed sways his hand back and forth.] Eh- don't worry about it.

[But unlike the first time he used the device, he's very much aware now. And after the conversation's good and done, the Sin slips a glance back to the feed. An arch of the eyebrow's the only signal he's actually paying attention. Because those shades are just a tad too dark. As he recoils on the recording, tipping over the jut of his hip with a terrible sort of grin.] I'm sure you're all still a bit busy, but I figured it's as good a time as any.

[Greed tilts his head to the side playfully and two-fingers laced touch his collar bone. Stretching out as he makes the best mock of a bow.] In case we haven't met, the name's Greed. But I'm sure that's not really what you're interested in.

[A heel clunks against the floorboards below; he's circling both the bar and the feed. Straightening as he talks. As he curves and cuts with fishtail precision.] I usually don't do this sort of thing, so consider it a one time deal. [An index sways out, tilting in the direction of an unseen wall.] Bring something worth it and it may earn you a drink on the house. Otherwise, consider it all half off for the day.

[Thunk, thunk he goes until he's got both knees swaying in opposite directions. He shows off his other hand, the one tattooed-red against the backside of his palm.] It's called The Devil's Nest. You can't really miss it.

[With that, he extends a finger forward. And after a few minutes of fiddling, the feed goes black.]
pomerenian: artist?? (can you hear me)
[personal profile] pomerenian
[The video clicks on to a full grown man sticking his tongue out at the camera. After a few moments, he seems to notice the fact that he's doing it and snaps his mouth shut, clearing his throat awkwardly.]

My name is Ren. I'm looking for a man named Aoba Seragaki. Any information you can provide me with is appreciated.

[He looks ready to end the broadcast there, but he hesitates.]

... [He practically deflates from any confidence he'd had when he first started and looks at a loss for what to say. He stares at the screen, looking puzzled, but eventually he speaks up again.]

Ah... I have another inquiry, if it is not too much of an inconvenience. Is it unusual to arrive here in a human vessel if you do not usually have one?

Thank you for your time. [There's an awkward head bow before he turns the feed off.]
assonant: (you're going to dps very slowly)
[personal profile] assonant
[ Pick up the mic-- ]

I thought this was going to be a joke. This is stuff from kid's shows. Books. Comics. It doesn't happen, not unless you're some obsessed weirdo guy in a costume. Maybe a girl's costume. Who can even tell with those kinds of people.

Gross.

[ Drop the sass-- ]

But I guess it's not.

[ --and then, in a different tone of voice, after a minute or so of contemplative silence: ] I thought, maybe a dream...

[ It's quickly followed by a sigh and the anger and irritation he'd been stewing in deflates abruptly as Aoba realizes he was a couple sentences away from making a complete idiot of himself. He dials it back, posture and expression changing to a worried, tired-looking young man that takes a breath and tries again.

Off camera, he's rubbing his wrist with his thumb, over and over. ]


Sorry. I'm having a hard time, uh -

[ Finding his house, for one. ]

...I'm new.
beenwaitinglong: (Douchebag grin #12)
[personal profile] beenwaitinglong
[All that's initially visible in the video is three red lines of light, cutting through a dark room. A man's face appears illuminated slightly as it shifts, in the act of sipping from a styrofoam cup of some beverage.

Then comes a voice, smooth and low.
]

When you don't know what path to take, you keep on walking for the sake of making progress. That's one of my rules.

[And apparently that's all the theatrics he feels like, as the man pulls a curtain beside him open, letting the light in. Then he strolls away from the window and has a seat on a nearby sofa, pausing once more to drink from his cup.]

I'm really more of a West Coast guy myself, though I do like my weather nice and steamy- a frothing pitcher to dampen the harsh bitterness of a sudden reality. And a sudden career I didn't ask for.

But I suppose I don't see much point in fretting about it. After all, are we all not lost? Weary wanderers, simple travelers on the long road that winds through this wide and aimless universe of ours... one place is the same as another, in that regard.

Let us all wander together, amigos.

[He sips again.]

Ha...! But now, I suppose the first and most important question remains ever the same.

[There is just a few seconds of dramatic pause to let the suspense sink in, and then:]

Where do I find a good cup of coffee around here?
dissemble: (hmmm allright)
[personal profile] dissemble
[Did you know you had a Civil War Museum, residents of Heropa? If you didn't, be sure to pay attention to what you can see in the background of this man's video. It's a wonderful museum, well organized and very educational.

The man in the video is dressed unassumingly in overalls. He's shutting a door behind him and locking it- obviously he thinks closing time is the best time to greet the rest of the network.
Well, it takes all kinds, doesn't it? His voice is calm and there's almost a neighborly tone to it.]


Hi- I'm, uh. I'm only new here so maybe there's a memo I missed or something, but I was wondering about what exactly we're supposed to be doing here. I'm a fairly simple kind of a guy- I like to call things how I see them. Call a pitchfork a pitchfork, you get the picture.

Now, I'm under the impression that I've been kidnapped and brought to Florida against my will. Not only that- but I've been branded like a piece of cattle. Yet some of you seem to be suggesting I've been done a favor of some kind.

[A pause as he locks the front doors of the museum behind him, checks they're securely shut, and moves away from the building. His tone begins shifts away from good-natured.]

That's a little rude, don't you think? Bringing us all here without any consultation and then asking us to thank them for it? That's fairly arrogant of them, right?

[Wait- was that a scream in the background?]

Now, I don't know you and you don't know me- but I'm sure there's a better way to resolve our differences than having all of us lying down in the dirt and letting them piss all over us.

[As he moves away from the building those of you who were admiring the fine architecture will notice that there are flames coming out of the windows. And yes- those are definitely screams you can hear now.

Lucifer is looking frankly into the camera once more.]


Just my take on things.


[The feed ends.


ooc: this is why you don't give lucifer a job as assistant curator at the local civil war memorial.

heroes- the poor people trapped inside the museum need your help! Lucifer won't be sticking around to deal with the fallout but please go ahead and threadjack to organise/actionspam rescues on this post!]

1 text

Mar. 7th, 2014 12:00 pm
larker: (Default)
[personal profile] larker
[Text]

Oh man they were not joking when they threw all this superhero crap at us. I thought they were talking complete garbage when I turned up, like some stupid prank they play on the non-natives. Woops, guess that's me on the back foot already, there's a surprise! So I'm thinking, if this place is meant to be grateful for us all doing them superhero favours, then I think we should all lay down some ground rules. I mean what are they going to do to us? Ground us? Send us home?

I propose free coffee for all imports as a start. They should be giving us all free coffee and free donuts. Cops get free donuts, I'm sure they can swing it for us lot too.

Free coffee, free donuts, and oh, throw in your two cents too right? I mean we're doing them the favour, the least they could do is return it some more.

Also I'd avoid the church down on third avenue, they're up to some pretty shady shit in there.
glowsferatu: smile, ashiah (Default)
[personal profile] glowsferatu
[ the camera clicks on in a standard bedroom, though a bit empty. the focus is on rose lalonde, wearing an elegant purple dress. there's a sewing machine on a desk in the background, that and a few rolls of colorful fabric against the wall seem to be the only real objects in an otherwise empty room.

kanaya's voice can be heard from behind the camera.
] Let's just try a curtsy, or...something to that effect.

[ rose appears to be momentarily distracted, glancing down at the dress with a look of appreciation. at kanaya's voice, she glances up, startled and straightens up. ] Oh - are you already starting the broadcast?

[ she glances at the device and then gives an awkward, stiff curtsy. ] Like this?

No, it's - hmm. It needs to be more fluid. Turn to the right a little, maybe put your hand on your waist. [ rose hesitates for a moment, then turns to the right and places her right hand on her hip. she lifts her chin - tries to remember all the posture advice her mother used to slur at her fondly when she caught rose trying on a new skirt. back straight, chest out - she feels a little ridiculous. ] Are you sure? I’m not sure the right is really my good side.

[ kanaya laughs lightly. ] You say that as if you have a side that isn't! We could perhaps have traded your headband for a tiara, I think. But move to the other, if you like, I do want to get the various angles of the dress.

[ she turns to the left, however - tries placing one leg to rest just a bit in front of the other and smiles despite herself. ] I think a crown would be too much. Perhaps a head scarf and some sunglasses. I could be Audrey Hepburn.

[ kanaya lets out a small laugh. ] That is precisely what I was thinking, actually. [ the camera swivels around rose as kanaya hums thoughtfully. ] We'll want a good look at the back, too. [ rose turns with an absent nod. she pauses and glances back over her shoulder towards the device and then smooths her hands over her hips. ] Kanaya, you would tell me if my butt looked big on camera, wouldn't you?

[ the question is met with a few moments of silence, where only rose will be able to see the look of surprised embarrassment it's met with. the rest, all they hear is: ] Absolutely not.

[ and she decides that's as good a time as any to actually acknowledge their audience, the camera unsteadily moving in on rose as she walks closer. ] This is the first dress I've completed in Heropa. As a Valentines gift, it's late, but one can't rush genius when she's working with limited resources. The reason it matters to the lot of you is because those resources are no longer so limited. [ the camera swerves to the sewing machine as kanaya rests an arm on rose's shoulder. ] A beauty, isn't she?

[ another swing of the camera and it's finally on kanaya and rose both, at an awkward upward angle that would look a bit more at home on myspace. if you've only seen kanaya in her native form, she looks a bit different: softer features, no horns, smaller fangs, brown skin instead of grey. but still close enough to be recognizable if you're looking. she's dressed much simpler than rose, just a loose slash-neck top and a high-waisted skirt, giving the camera a good, fang-filled grin. she's in a much better mood than usual. ]

The machine isn't bad, either, of course. It's the one that'll be putting me back in business. For those I have yet to be given the pleasure of meeting, I'm Kanaya Maryam, and if you've arrived in circumstances anything like I had, you'll be in need of better clothes. Lucky for you, as with numerous other obligations, that just happens to be my job. [ rose waits patiently for kanaya to finish her sales pitch. before she can, however, she tiptoes closer and then, enthusiastically: ] I can guarantee a perfect fit and a dress that will flatter, speaking as someone who has never received anything but perfection. No hamming it up intended. [ with a flash of her teeth, she takes a step back again and gestures for kanaya to continue. ]

Granted, we all have bills to pay, girlfriends to put through school, [ a pointed look at rose, while rose herself covers her mouth with the back of her hand and tries not to snort. ] but I'm sure some kind of arrangement can be reached. So leave me a message here, or give me a call at the number provided at the end, we'll see what can be done.

[ after the feed ends, there's a text link. ]

Kanaya Maryam
Designer Seamstress And General Aesthete
premorse: s: ᴏɴʟʏ ɢᴏᴅ ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇs (024)
[personal profile] premorse
[When the feed clicks on and the machine hums, darkness envelops the figure standing in the middle. It's either nighttime or he's found himself a nice, dark place, shadows projected on dimly lit skin.

The glow of the tattoo is obvious on his forearm, turned to the camera for everyone to see. It's clear the man wants it to be the first thing people pay attention to.]


This thing.

[It reads 'UNSETTLED'. He lowers his arm.]

Never been a fan of being branded.

[And he's been branded, more than once. First by his brother's last breath of revenge, then by Kaena's ownership. He was a slave and he was tortured, and this reminder of her scars is in no way welcome to the man who's barely gotten a footing in his freedom.]

I want it off.

Name your price. I'll tell you where to meet me.

[Since he imagines there has to be a way, and he imagines the government doesn't want the imPorts to know about it. But where else could he approach people about it? General population doesn't seem the way to go, so this will have to do.

The feed disconnects, now as quiet as the man behind it.]
heartstings: (Default)
[personal profile] heartstings
[Kenzi gives a little wave to the camera before settling back on her bed.  What little of her room can be seen behind her is already quite the mess, clothing thrown over things, empty bottles of alcohol strewn around.  Yet, somehow, her bed is made, or at least the covers are thrown over it in a neat enough manner to appear made.

In the background Sir Apple, her pet fairy dragon, can be seen burrowing beneath a jacket.
]

So, hey.  I was thinking that maybe we could have a part of our own.  Something not set up by the government, something just for us to chill and get to know each other better.  Soooooo, how does everyone feel about a block party potluck?

Before you go and switch this off just hear me out.  Those of us that can cook and find ingredients similar to foods back home could bring a dish that reminds them of home, everyone else could just bring whatever.  We could set up some tables along the street or something, have everything set up for everyone to come along and pile up a plate of delicious grub.  We could have music and drinks and everyone could just relax for a day.

[The little dragon seems to give up on his burrowing and flits over to settle in Kenzi's lap.  She smiles down at him and gives him a little rub under his chin before turning her attention back to the camera.]

I figured since the weather is not too hot and not too cold it'd be pretty perfect for everyone to spend some time outside with everyone else.  Of course, there's a few things I'll need from all of you to get this set up if you guys wanna do it.  Gonna need some people to help with set up, gonna need some monetary donations to make sure we have enough food and all that, and I'm obviously going to need a rough estimate on how many people are going to show up.

I'm not even sure how many of us are here.  So a headcount might be helpful.

[She pauses, licking her lips as she tries to think of anything else.

Welp, I guess that's it.  Just let me know if you're interested.  If not too many people are I guess I could just throw a smaller party.

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.]

Sorry.

[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.

video.

Feb. 28th, 2014 08:28 pm
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[personal profile] connate
[ when the feed clicks on, it's easy to tell that nick's in the kitchen, probably one that's similar to most in the issued residencies. his tone's a far cry from casual, but the fact that he's apparently wasting time at home at least offers some semblance of nonchalance. ]

My name is Nick Burkhardt. I'm with the Portland— previously of the PPB, currently with the... [ a pause, and extremely reluctantly: ] Heropa PD.

[ that's the formal introduction out of the way. which is the easy part; identify yourself, follow routine. going out of his way to make friends isn't something nick's done in a long time, which is probably going to be obvious in roughly ten seconds. his effort to drop the professional approach ends up sounding more neutral than genuinely amicable, but at least it keeps this from sounding like a full-on interrogation. ]

I wasn't planning on getting a tattoo, but given the choice I'd have gone for something a little less on the nose. And while I'm sure cops everywhere would appreciate the vote of confidence, something tells me this place is working with a flexible definition of the word hero.

[ definitely a judgement on what he's seen on the network rather than any kind of careful introspection. no offense. ]

Everyone's talking about whether or not we should register. I'm wondering what gives us the right to in the first place. [ a slight pause, and then he has the decency to sound a bit wry at his own expense. ] So on a scale of recycling to wearing spandex, how heroic do you think you rate?
nestingdevil: ➥ pantaloons@dreamwidth (♠ } i'm a man of wealth and taste)
[personal profile] nestingdevil
[The feed's a little erratic. Flipping and turning and it's very clear from the get-go that the owner of the device has it shoved pocket-deep with the switched turned on. From the compromised position, the recording doesn't illuminate much. Just a bit of the mid-afternoon sun creeping in, edging out a hand with thick-knuckles in a stream-line of gold. However, despite being slightly muffled, a voice does come through the line. Thick and sultry, proud with a hum that seems to hold out each syllable. Grazing against teeth as the man says one thing only:]

Thanks, pal.

[The smile is practicably audible and wet. Deadly-sharp and two dull clacks of a heel follow. The owner's a bit distracted - as if he doesn't know that he's turned the whole network into a one-man show - and he knocks solidly on the hood of a car. Once, twice. Sending it off as an engine growls and wheels kick tiny stones down the pavement. For a few seconds, it's only the rush of air as a thumb snatches the device. And then, finally, it sees the light of day.]

Ah, right. [The feed flips. Head over heel as it's tossed up and snatched in a solid grip. For a hot-second, there's a flash of fur, a catch of leather. Until it settles to the side, peering upwards to highlight the underside of a throat. Round panes of glass make up a pair of shades that seem to swallow the sun high up in the air and the man smiles. Really smiles. Pulling back his lips and it's like the jaws of a shark opening wide. Points that are razor-cut and they line up, tooth by tooth, in a terrible and wicked row.] That was a little rude, wasn't it?

[So maybe the initial tuning-in was intentional. Either way, present company doesn't seem too bothered. Instead, he shrugs. Tilting his head to the side and his eyebrows dip into small U(s). Following the silver-rims of his sunglasses as he raises his other hand to the feed. He gives two taps to the temple, knocking his skull to punctuate his point. Whatever that point is.] Well, I gotta say - this is new. But then again - [His lips close up, his grin smarmy. As if could have the whole world in the palm of his hand.]

- there's no such thing as no such thing.

[The stranger slides his heel back, letting his shoulders sag forward. Like every part of him is entirely boneless and he shoots his head over the collar of fur framing his neck. The mockery of a bow in every fashion and two fingers rise to touch the dip of his collarbone.]

The name's Greed - [He says, finally. A long-overdue introduction and the Sin rolls his tongue to the smooth side of his teeth. Lets his eyebrows knit together, making waves of his forehead.] - why don't we start being good friends, hmn?
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.
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[personal profile] earnedmystripes
[Good evening, fine residents of Heropa/Nonah/De Chima/Maurtia Falls! Tonight, you have among you a brand hew imPort. The display on the communicator reads Kotetsu T. Kaburagi, and the man himself looks friendly enough, if a bit uncertain. But who wouldn't be upon finding themselves suddenly dragged into a brand new world, right?

He's currently in his military-provided housing, residence #014, chilling out on a couch in the living room as he addresses the network for the first time.]


So I guess this is the part where I introduce myself and stuff, huh? Yo. I'm Kotetsu.

[What a stunning introduction, A++]

Everyone here's from all sorts of different places, right? Us "imPorts", I mean. So I was wondering if you guys'd tell me something cool about where you're from!

[It sounds flippant, as if he's not at all concerned about his situation, but to those with a keener eye, there's a certain tension to his frame, the set of his jaw. There's a great many things he wants to ask about this place and its people and the military that's brought them, but he wants to get a feel for this place and the people drawn into it with him first. He needs a couple days to process all this, to deal with the fact that he was literally just about to retire before this happened, before he's ready to confront any of it head-on.]

As for something cool about where I'm from...uhhh. Oh! I know, the city I'm from's built in a pretty neat way, with three levels each on top of the last one.

[ooc: I'm gonna quietly backdate this post to the evening of the 13th so he has a little bit of buffer between arriving and the Swear-In, thanks!!]

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