video | MIRROR NETWORK

[queenofseers]

[ The feed opens on Cassandra’s apartment- or what soon will not be Cassandra’s apartment, as one may be able to tell from the fact that everything’s in boxes behind her. Cassandra is on screen, certainly not looking or sounding as terrible as the last time she posted on the network, but still a good bit exhausted. And a bit...frustrated? It could be worse. There's a portion of the screen behind her that's hard to focus on, as if it doesn't want to be looked at. ]

Okay. So- for those of you who are actually interested in figuring shit out around this place, I’ve got a request. Or- we do, apparently. [ Suddenly, that portion of the screen is just fine being looked at, where the tall figure and gazelle skull mask of the Psychopomp looms behind Cassandra. ]

We’re looking for magic users. Anyone with... [ She taps her chin. Clearly she’s trying to find the right words, for a number of reasons. ] Offensive abilities. Or some sort of psychic powers. [ Psychopomp raises one finger, interjecting from behind her: ] Not offensive, as such. The abilities we seek have to do with the mind, particularly in the binding together of them.

God. Fine, yeah, what they said. It’s all abstract anyway, fucking...supernatural bullshit. [ She waves a hand around, as if that’ll assist her point. ] What we’re saying is we need some help on a project. A big one. So if you can do that- and if you’re willing to do it with pretty fucking high stakes- let us know.

Be warned, when we speak of high stakes, we mean the highest of stakes in this land. We mean to mitigate them, with thy help, and perhaps they will be reduced for thee enough to be as naught, but this task is not for such that cannot steel themselves to such a task. If thou art serious, we appreciate thy inquiry.

...They mean you could get hurt, if you need a translation. [ She’s a journalist. She likes blunt language. ] Oh- and if you want something a little less dangerous, we could use some help with a survey, too. Much less potentially deadly. Thanks in advance to those of you who actually give a shit, I guess.


[ ooc: Plain text is Cassandra, bolded is Psychopomp/glowsferatu. Replies will come from both! ]

Comments

[nightmarist]

[The long stare says no.]

[glowsferatu]

What harm would it do thee?

[nightmarist]

None, I reckon.

[glowsferatu]

Then what is it that presenteth such a difficulty to thee?

[nightmarist]

I don’t know. What is it about normal speech that presenteth such a difficulty to thee?

[glowsferatu]

It doth not. I speak in a manner typical in the Beyond. If thy mind is too meager to comprehend it, I could adopt a diction of proportionately minuscule scale.

[nightmarist]

[Yes, meager. That is what his mind is. Again, Ronan stares.]

[glowsferatu]

Small. Words. Then.
Just. One. Sound.

Do. You. Got. It?
Or. If. Too. Fast. I. Can. Slow. Down.

[nightmarist]

[He can do this all day.]

[glowsferatu]

Oh.

Me.
Lost.
Poor.
Dumb.
Boy.

So.
Sad.

Too.
Dumb.
To.
Know.
My.
Mouth.
Words.

[nightmarist]

[Go on.]

[glowsferatu]

[ A deep rushing sound comes over the comm that was some kind of sigh before it hit their voice filter, and they cross their arms. ]

If thou must be a shit, thou couldst try being less boring about it.

[nightmarist]

I'm not your monkey. Is etiquette class over? I could be watching grass grow right now.

[glowsferatu]

[ Bitch, that's her line. ]

Then begone. We can do just fine without thee.

[nightmarist]

Cool.

[Don't say he ain't ever tried, Cassandra!!!]