maskormenace | one ( voice )

So we've weathered our first publicly broadcast display of violence. In this world, that is.

[ A woman is speaking. She sounds pleasant enough at first blush, soft and modulated and distinctly feminine, but beneath that there's the unmistakable tone of someone who very much enjoys listening to the sound of her own voice. ]

Honestly -- I knew our communal memory was short, but this kind of nostalgia has never been worth repeating. I'm sure you all think you're terribly special, subjected to this indignity and being called "hero" on top of it. That must be such an insult. It had better be, for you to react like such children.

You're not the first, you know, and what happened this week won't be the last incident of its kind. That's the tragedy of random selection, right? There's no telling what kind of people will come out. In the last place, let's see... there was the old military commander who unleashed vampires on the City and almost detonated a bomb in this country's capital. There was the scientist who experimented on children and made her own army of feral monsters. The psychiatrist who caused mass hallucinations at a parade. The one who summoned an immense baby to wreak havoc on New Year's Eve.

[ There's no trace of humor in her voice, even at that last one. ImPorts, man. They've seen some shit. ]

I could go on, if you'd like, but I think you understand by now. Do you know what those people all had in common? Not one is still here today. Some of them were killed [ one by her personally, whoops ] and some were imprisoned -- others lingered on to vanish into thin air, like so many before them. But none of them managed to see their work borne out in a lasting way. That was all under Lachesis, who had much less interest vested in making sure we cooperated than our current monitors. Her greatest concerns were always for herself. After all, with the power she had to command, we could all of us be replaced, and our lives renewed at her discretion. Her entertainment was a much more fragile matter. Whether that still holds true, I couldn't say -- as far as I know, none of us can, as none of us have died. But the heroes made up for her apathy, just as they'll do now. That's just how it goes, and this time around the deck is stacked in heroism's favor.

Don't misunderstand what I'm trying to say -- if you're going to make a spectacle of yourselves, I don't particularly care what happens to you. But every action has a consequence, no matter how untouchable you'd like to believe yourself. If you have any questions, of course, I'd be happy to answer. The only trait less attractive than ignorance is hubris. Let's not mix the two any further.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At least Mr. Day could be predicted, to some extent -- there are only so many holidays in a year. Burning people alive doesn't keep to such a strict schedule.

He might've tried it in August. I'm sure he was bored during the summer.

It is a long dry spell. [ Unfortunately, she does not know because THAT'S WHEN SHE WAS PORTED OUT LOL, which she will not actually say! Castmates, man. ] But I think I'd still prefer him to the Major, all things considered.

Frankly I could do without his vampires adding to the bad reputation the rest of us bear. But you also weren't of special interest to Mr. Day, I'm sure.

He could be... [ legitimately insane. ] ...very intense to deal with when fixated.

Thankfully, I was not. [ There's a slight hesitation while she internally casts about for reasons this girl might have been of such interest -- but oh, of course that's it. ] But that's right -- I almost forgot about that fascination of his. My apologies.

I wasn't the recipient who received the worst of it, [ he was already gone by the time she had a corpse, jade fingerpaints were luckily never a thing. ] it was almost like having a very obsessive and unwelcome avuncular figure. But it isn't as though he was the worst I've had in such a role.

I won't ask. With regard to what you said earlier, though... I rather doubt they will either. It's easy to predict this sort of thing, though not so easy as it is for them to be predictable.

[ she lets out a sigh of relief at the first statement. no one wants to think about scratch. ]

That's what makes paying attention so important, it's hard to predict what you aren't familiar with. And that damage will always need to be controlled.

It sounds like you're speaking from experience.

Anyone who's been here long enough will have that experience. You have to know how to identify the bad eggs, and deal with them appropriately.

[ poached, scrambled, hardboiled? she's never actually gotten to fry them as often as she'd like. ]

I meant the dealing with more than the recognition. For some, becoming accustomed is only a few steps away from being jaded. They learn the hallmarks and use them to avoid trouble rather than interfere with it. But I don't need to tell you that.

Of course not, I was born knowing what it's like to be jaded. [ though somehow that pun never manages to amuse her. ]

It's better to interfere, I think. But difficult to do so in a way that will have any permanence, usually.

Indeed. Lachesis never did manage to help with that, but perhaps our luck will change with our handlers.

Hard to say. No one's died yet that I know of, and I doubt that anyone would care to risk it, either.

But our handlers have yet to act on any of the obvious problems yet, so I doubt they would have much power to do so. And it isn't as though containment has ever been effective.

We'd all be hard-pressed to find something that was. Effective, that is.

They have their own problems to dwell on, no doubt, but letting something like this incident slide won't look good.

Edited 2014-03-31 01:16 (UTC)

We've a precedent set now, the first open display of import aggression. Hopefully that will at least clear any doubt that our handlers control the porter, or there would be a terribly simply solution they could enact.

Hopefully -- not certainly. It's fresh in our minds now, but if people keep arriving at this rate it won't be long until this too is just another secondhand story for newcomers to discount.

We should reestablish the brochures, perhaps. Or just build a sign outside the porter we can all stand and point toward when the arrivals come.

Big, bold letters. Something they can't miss.

That much, at least, our handlers can control.

They'll be less likely to believe it coming from them, if they distrust them already. We're the ones who will have to be stating the obvious, I'm afraid.