choreographics: (Well I dont know if I believe thats true)
[personal profile] choreographics
[It's been a few days since Ryan's arrived in Heropa, and after the weekend in Nonah he's come to realize that he's actually not going anywhere anytime soon. He's actually a hero…like…with real powers. The whole thing's bizarre, but when the video pops on anyone watching will just see a blonde teenager with a newsboy cap firmly planted on his head sitting on the floor of his room at Residence #004, despite the fact he should possibly be in school right now. Whatever. He'll figure it out later.]

So I have a question. What if I don't want one of my powers? I can talk to someone about making an exchange, right? What if I want to trade out one of them for something less…[He just makes a vague hand gesture. He's not sure he feels like disclosing that his powers freak him out a little.] Like…like, I don't know, flying? Or…shooting lasers from my eyes? Something?

[There's a sheepish smile accompanying the sentence.] Okay, so I don't really know a lot about this whole hero thing. It's one thing to play pretend on stage my whole life, but this? I don't even know where to start. [A lull of silence follows as Ryan thinks of how to continue, but he seemingly grasps onto a totally other thought just then.]

Oh! But hey, speaking of, who can I talk to about getting a wireless microphone? I've got something I want to try.
iampretty: (babe you sure bout this?)
[personal profile] iampretty
Now that we've cleared away the rubble from...that, I have a question. ['that' being a monorail exploding.

also goddamn, does Hans look worried.
]

What does it mean if you can't contact someone on these communicator devices? I've tried giving her a call, I've tried sending her a message, but I can't contact her. I was going to drop by her house but, well, they shoved us all to North Carolina, so that went out of the equation.

[aka Anna got dropped and Hans does not know what this means. someone help the poor worried looking Disney prince. :( ]

001

May. 5th, 2014 03:59 pm
firebreak: (Clark please leave my office)
[personal profile] firebreak
[Judging by her appearance alone, Hawkeye has clearly seen better days. Face stern with concentration, a small frown pulls her mouth in what seems to be its habitual expression. Her long blonde hair is loose, streaked with dirt and blood, as is the jacket she has buttoned up as far as it will go. Traces still cling to the curve of her cheek, but the bandages at her throat are clean.]

Is it...?

[She brings the communicator slightly closer to her mouth as she would a typical radio, her straight shoulders settling even straighter. Her tone, like her expression, is brusque, business-like, tightly controlled. Any personal emotion about situation is undetectable; this is a soldier speaking, through and through.] This broadcast is intended for any Amestrian military personnel. This is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye speaking, aide to Fuhrer Bradley, calling to any Central and Northern units present--please report.

To anyone else who may be listening--I am seeking immediate information on the conditions and whereabouts of the following: Master Sergeant Kain Fuery, Second Lieutenant Vato Falman, Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda, Lieutenant Rebecca Catalina, Colonel Roy Mustang, Major General Olivier Armstrong, Fuhrer King Bradley. They may be injured or otherwise incapacitated. I would be grateful for any information that is provided.

[Business done, she doesn't linger. The camera turns away and is quickly switched off.]
crab: (28 █ and with a little bit of luck)
[personal profile] crab
Before I get into anything else, if anyone has any healers and/or narcotics handy, I'd appreciate it if they could be delivered to this [ insert .pdf attachment ] address. Thanks.

Now that's out of the way, let's get to the real purpose of this broadcast. I suggest you drop whatever vastly unimportant rubbish it is you're wasting your vastly unimportant time with and pay attention, as this greatly concerns all of you.

Most imPorts operate under the assumption that when you leave here, you go back to your native universe, resulting in the never-ending wave of newbies telling us that, no, really, the world is at stake, person nobody cares about is going to suffer a fate worse than death only I can prevent in approximately point three seconds, I left the stove on, my problems are unique and more important and time sensitive than any of my predecessors have ever been, so please, make history by making me the first imPort to ever be returned to the sorry butt crevice I crawled out of just through asking.

Most people will tell you that nobody decides when you go back. It just happens. It's random. No one can predict it. But you will go back! And, conveniently, it will be at the exact instant you left. With no memory of ever having arrived here. Sometimes you might come back from a different point in time, after a few days or years, with an influx of memory from your time here upon arrival. Sometimes you come back without it. That's random, too.

But nobody can prove that.

I've been over this before, but the gist of it is, your options in "going back", are either to be effectively erased from existence through having your memories of here erased, or sent back to a dead or dying timeline to await your inevitable doom. There is no going back. It's just a lie we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better when one of our friends blips out of existence. Nobody goes back! Nobody is ever going to go back!

[ There's a pause, where he seems to catch his breath, something close to a groan, before he goes on. ]

I was serious about the healers or drugs. Sooner rather than later.
dragony: (n - but i love these capri's)
[personal profile] dragony
So. Nightmares.

[ It's closing in on four in the morning. The sky is dark, the night is not yet dying, and this is a completely unreasonable hour for a sixteen year old with ostensible school in the morning to be awake.

Even she sounds irritated about it.
]

Are there any worthwhile remedies or treatments for those? So they happen less often. Personal testimonies preferred, please, over ones you've read about and never used.

I'd like to be able to sleep through the night at least once this year, if I can.



[ ooc: this post contains discussion of underage drug use and abuse. viewer discretion advised. ]

† 047

Mar. 31st, 2014 11:25 pm
klutziness: <lj site="livejournal.com" user="rik45"> (legs.)
[personal profile] klutziness
so, a question
have anyone else's powers changed since they got here?
like not just getting a new power, but losing an old one
if yes, how'd you deal with that?
inquiring minds want to know
hypercompetent: <user name="melocoton"> (♥ can i get a montage?)
[personal profile] hypercompetent
[ the feed first comes on audio at first, and all you are treated to, lovely heroes, is the sound of two people arguing. one of them sounds decidedly younger than the other, and he’s the first to properly speak up, halfway through a sentence. ] Dude, I’m telling you for the last friggin time, there is no amount of grunting that you can do in my direction that’s going to get me to tell you how we ended up here! --Stop looking at me like that, I’m going to start the network post, just because you want to go all Batman on everyone doesn’t mean that I do.

I don’t want to go Batman on anyone. [ The second, older voice sounds decidedly disgruntled, but then pauses for a moment. ] I think you started it already--

Stop changing the subject! I’m so serious, I am not letting you ruin the fact that I just woke up with freakin’ superpowers, okay, and they’re calling me a superhero. Me! In case you don’t remember, I don’t do superhero. I just read about them. And, don’t even say you’re not, anyway, because you didn’t even sign up for the--oh, hey, it is on. [ lo and behold, the first original voice seems to cut himself off in his tangent, and the feed flickers to show video as well. stiles’ head is fisheye close, enough that all you really get is a close up of a pair of brown eyes before he offers kind of an awkward, three fingered wave and hopes that none of that actually got caught on camera. ] Uh, hey. So is this Suddenly A Superhero anonymous? Hi, I’m Stiles, and apparently Stan Lee finally realized my true potential in life.

[ there’s nothing egotistical about that--aside from the glare he shot in the other dude’s direction a few minutes before, the teenager grins at the feed. ]

I told you-- [ Nevermind. Behind him, there’s a man pinching the bridge of his nose after the end of that particular tangent. He doesn’t have enough patience for this right now, but he just shakes his head and drops his hand. ] I doubt anyone really signed up for being kidnapped and turned into superheroes, but you’re probably not the only one not complaining about the superpowers aspect. [ Then, he adds: ] I’m Derek, and I’m going to leave you to the questioning.

[ Yep, that would be Derek shooting him A Look back before stepping just off-screen to go back to looking at the books he’s grabbed since they were brought to Heropa. ]

[ stiles waits until derek turns around before he jerks his head and neck in what some might call an eyeroll, then mouths “seriously, this guy, am I right?” at the camera. his hand drops from where he was covering it, and he adds-- ] I guess I just wanted to ask a question. Well, okay, like fifty questions, but for real though: do a lot of you guys come in, uh, superabilified, or is that a new thing?

Also: I might still have to go to school? Seriously? It better be Professor X’s or we’re going to have some serious issues.[ that one was less serious, but with that aside out of the way, stiles claps his hands against his thighs one, two, three times, a little awkwardly. ] That’s all I got, so just let me know if you’ve always been on the superhero train. And, also, if you wanna trade roommates.

[ Just off-screen, Derek snorts at his complaints about school and his attempt at a jab towards him. ] Just sign off, Stiles. And thanks for your time. [ As far from thrilled and camera shy as he seems to be, at least he’s polite about it. stiles scoffs again, and mutters something about "freakin' wolves thinking they're better than everyone else" but leans in and turns the video off--and there's no arguing to end it like it began. ]
alofts: <user name="hoar"> (Default)
[personal profile] alofts
[ Here was a man with a narrow, heart-shaped face sporting a split lip under sunken grey eyes with a sharp cruelty that jarred with his otherwise youthful appearance. Cracked leather suspenders over a white button down with a lopsided cravat created had him screaming 'Newsies reject.' Despite the fat lip and the caustic air to him he look otherwise unbothered. Bored, if anything. ]

If I'm not really just sitting here with my thumb up my ass talking to a slab of glass [ That voice was way too deep that little diaphragm to boom out, but that was Levi ] then maybe someone knows why I should care what some pig dragging me around his carriage so fast like he had to take a shit was going on about.

[ After graphically accusing whatever poor soldier had escorted him of having poor bowel control, Levi started straightening his cravat with a modicum of fussbudget behavior that didn't come with someone who spoke like the kid who learned a new bad word. ]

And where's the Atlantic?
soulbonder: (33)
[personal profile] soulbonder
[The video clicks on to give the audience a rather disorienting view of blurry greens, browns, and light blues. The colors streak about longer than they should which frustrates whoever's recording. It takes them a moment to steady their grip on the communicator, but they offer no apology for the disturbance.

The angle remains odd and slightly tilted, granting those who're watching a rather boring view of a sidewalk and the small patch of grass running parallel to it. The movements remain jerky as the camera slowly pans upward to show downtown Heropa, specifically focusing on a kid who seems to be wearing a strange pink and purple spiky helmet.

As the kid comes more into view, it's obvious he's looking for something. He looks around, panting, moving back and forth on the balls of his feet anxiously. Finally, he plops down cross-legged on the sidewalk and groans. There's a moment when the kid almost pouts, but it's short lived when he snaps his fingers in realization.

Taking out his own communicator, he fiddles with it awkwardly before he cheers in happiness and stands up, but then pauses, staring at it. He frowns and holds it it up, realizing something else now. He begins to move toward the camera recording him, speaking very loudly.]


I'm looking for my friend who probably came here with me. See, he's kind of blue, glowy, and floats around like a ghost? He's probably sitting in a high place, he likes to watch people.

[He moves to the tree, pointing it out before looking up. His eyes are focused directly on the camera. He's furious at the person holding it. His foot stomps on the ground as he yells.]

Kind of like this tree! Oh, and his name is Astral!

[The owner of the communicator finally speaks up, his voice an oddly hollow monotone:] Yes, Yuma?

[Yuma's climbing up the tree now, almost growling at Astral.] What the heck is wrong with you?!

You never bothered to look up.

[Yuma sucks in a sharp breath and growls now, slipping in the tree as he tries to climb faster. Once he makes it up to the camera person, he lets out a huff and sits down.]

[Astral's attention remains on the screen as he changes perspective of the camera, it's positioned so the audience can see the both of them. Astral's exactly how Yuma’s described: kind of blue and glowy. His expression is rather… blank.] My name is Astral.

[Yuma frowns at the screen and looks to Astral. He's flabbergasted as he speaks.]

You're still recording?!

It is customary to introduce yourself.

[Yuma looks incredulous, but sighs. Astral is Astral, so it's pointless to argue. He grins at the camera.] I'm Tsukumo Yuma! Everyone calls me Yuma!

[There's a moment when he opens his mouth to say something, but there is a loud rumble from somewhere and he's sheepish for a second before pulling Astral's communicator closer to him.]

Does anyone know where I can get lunch? I'm starving!

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