05 | text | backdated to nov 4

[deadtective]

[anyone who's been unfortunate enough to have Hazel stumble through their inbox in recent hours may have an inkling as to what this post is about. everyone else...good luck, sorry.]

I don't actually have a goddamn thing to say to any of you people. I'm just making this post because I can.

I mean, shit, look at me. Typing up a post! With legible sentences!! Completely fucking coherent without a single goddamn mistyped word to be found! Spellcheck couldn't keep up with me if it wanted to, my fingers are flying across the keys so fast.

And do you know why? Because I fucking won. I blasted those goddamn moon runes and their bullshit back into Jupiter's orbit where they belong. Somebody WHO KNOWS EXACTLY WHO HE IS tried to bring me down with that alien garbage and he couldn't do it!!! Nobody can fucking beat me. Nobody.

Fuck!! I feel like I should be building a tower out of Webster's dictionaries and planting an American flag at the top or something. At the very least I should go price that shit out; just being able to read all these webpages again is making me cry.

[for someone who 'didn't have a goddamn thing to say' she sure is excitedly rambling. that point is lost on Hazel, unfortunately.]

File 02 - Video > Text

[christmaspun]

[For a moment, the feed turns on. There's Kristin, looking at the lens - face pale, eyes puffy from tears that dried up beforehand - but she doesn't speak. She can't bring herself to speak. She was gone, gone back to her home; now she's back, and it's apparent that something has gone wrong. Behind her, her room is a flurry of scattered papers. Dulled green eyes widen a bit as she tries to process information, tries to pull words from the haze and the darkness.

She can't do it.

She casts a darting glance over her shoulder, jumping at a shadow, and with the lift of her chin it's easier to see the fading bruises around her throat. Her eyes flick downward to the preview of her feed and she spots them.

The visuals click off. She switches to text.]


I went back. It felt like weeks, but the calendar here says it's only been a day. Like it was a bad dream.


I don't know what to do now that I've woken up.

Level Up! Stage 001 🎮 Video

[disorder_heaven]

[ The feed snaps on from a position that may imply the communication device is propped up on some sort of tripod. There's a clear view of Urushihara's face. Behind him is his room, and an observant person may wonder how someone who has only been around for a week or so has already made such a mess of the place. ]

I guess I've laid low long enough. Not that I was really making an effort to, but...

Uh, hi. I'm Urushihara. Er, Hanzō. Hanzō Urushihara. But my surname's fine. ...Actually, it's preferred.

[ Where was that train of thought? Oh, right. ]

I'm new here. I live in Maurtia Falls and probably won't leave unless I'm offered food, but if you guys ever wanna chat, I'll be easily accessible here or online.

...Really. I'll always be here. So feel free to pester me. Heaven knows we won't bump into each other on the streets.

That's... All I've got to say, I guess. Nice to meet you all.

[ Click. ]

2nd Illusion ♦ Text; ID reads Kaito Kuroba

[tuxedo_magician]

So.

I don't know who here knew Heiji Hattori, but he's gone. Ported out. Whatever it's called. He left some stuff behind, so there's that.

And I think I'm gonna have to look into finding a new place to live. The guy left me all his pets and I don't think there's enough room for all of them, me and my doves and my roommates. Does anyone know how to teach a cat to ignore the birds?

[Of course, this is text. Because Kaito is too damn tired to deal with Poker Face at the moment and he knows he'd have to use it if this was voice or video.

Dammit. Of course he was the only one left.]

Take 1 : Video

[kaijuustice]

[Good morning ImPorts! Your wake up call today consists of a pair of blue eyes and a nose peering at you from a video feed for several seconds, before the head those are attached to moves back.]

Hehe...oops, forgot the camera was on...

[Now that he doesn't have his face pressed to his communicator's camera, one can tell the owner of the face is a young man with brown hair and a green beanie. He gives the camera a quick wave before talking.]

Sorry about that, everyone! New phone, bit of a learning curve, y'know? Anyway, I'm Fred and this is the first trip to the east coast that I can actually remember. And while I don't need help getting settled right now, I do want to meet like, all of you. So if you're watching this, SAY HI or shoot me a text or something.

I'll be waiting.

1st SAVE | Video

[lvless_soul]

[The feed opens up to the view of a young child, about eight or so years old, standing away at arm's length. The feed is slightly tilted, and there's a frown as the child reaches forward to adjust the position of the camera. When they're satisfied, they lean back to their original position and wave brightly at the camera. Hello everyone!

Frisk isn't sure where exactly this place was, but they do know it's not anywhere close to Mount Ebott or any place familiar. Being dropped into a completely foreign place with strangers isn't new to them though. It's strange seeing so many humans after a long period of having monsters as company, but they're not about to be deterred.

But back to the point. Frisk holds their left palm up and slides their right hand over it, outwards, then points their index fingers up with both hands and touches the hands together and finally points at the camera, making a sweeping motion from right to left. It's nice to meet you all.

They continue with their signing, making the hand movements a little slower than usual for clarity. They're not sure if anyone will understand them, but it's worth a shot.

It's a short statement. I'm new here, let's all be friends! Once they're done, they smile, and then end the video.]

10 ⚜ Audio

[restingstitchface]

[Anyone who's familiar with Crane will recognize his compulsive need to study fear. But what's the curious thing, here? His approach. His voice is as soft and calm as it had been upon his arrival. It gives an impression of frailty that's deliberately misleading. There was nothing about him that sounded like the Scarecrow. And that's the frightening thing.]

Machiavelli once said, "And here comes in the question whether it is better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved. It might perhaps be answered that we should wish to be both; but since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved."

I put his question to you all; is it better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved?

[He likes the idea of letting the piddling powers in this place believe he's behaving himself; listening to that silly therapist he'd encountered recently. Maybe his audience all be dishonest in their answers. Frightened. Scared. He indulges in a smile. He will have to confirm all of their opinions with an experiment, of course.]