video!

[beneathbluerafters]

[ At this point, maybe someone should think about setting up a temporary daycare for all the tiny children running around the porter cities. It's a bit hard to tell who this tiny child is at first, since the communicator is on the ground and he isn't visible in the frame yet, but when the feed flicks on, it shows an extreme close-up of an orange kitten batting at the screen, with a dark alleyway and a rusted dumpster visible in the background. ]

Someone told me I could use the scrying box to speak to many people at once, but I don't... ah! Give it!

[ Klarion - and it is Klarion, about nine or ten years old and wearing a hoodie sweater clearly made for a teenager - picks up the communicator, squares his shoulders and sits up straight against the dumpster, glaring into the camera with all the fierce authority of a small child who is determined to get what they want, circumstances be damned. ]

Sinners of Blue Rafters! My father is surely traveling among you. His name is Mordecai Bleak, he looks like me, only much, much taller, and he's wearing a big hat. If any of you know where he is, or happen to see him about, tell me! And... and tell him that I'll find him soon!

Blessed be. Croatoan abides. [ He bows his head at the camera, then glances off to one side. ]

... There, that should do it. How do I make it stop? It's--

[ The cat pounces at the camera again, and the feed shuts off! ]

voice

[hypnotherapy]

[ Wow, a voice post from Magicman? Amazing. It must be something important.

(It is important.) His voice is a little shaky, as if he's trying to maintain a steady tone and not quite managing it. ]

Hello.

I'd just like to say that if you see this imPort around, [ he's helpfully attached a picture to go along with this post for those who haven't seen him ] I'd advise you to steer clear of him. [ That's sure a lot of (shaky) emphasis on those last four words. ] For your own safety. Don't approach.

[ There's a soft but audible hiss of pain and the rustle of clothing. Apparently he's having trouble with something...? ]

...That's all. [ There's a loud clatter as he apparently tries to turn the communicator off and finds it not amenable to his wishes; he seems to have dropped it. One inaudible curse later, he manages to switch it off. ]

♛3 (Video)

[penthesileia]

[The camera shows a young girl, about ten or so, with curly red pigtails. Judging by the expression on her face and the way her eyes keep darting back and forth, she's actually quite anxious, but she's doing her best not to show it. She crosses skinny arms in front of her chest.] I-- I need to find my father. Does anyone know where he is? His name is Takeharu Kirijo, he's... he's very important. He's a very important man! I'm certain he wouldn't have brought me to the United States without telling me why. If anyone knows anything of his whereabouts, please let me know immediately. Um, thank you.

O2 👶 VIDEO;

[pillz]

[technically, baba marta was a month ago and in another country. but it’s april fool in the united states which is close enough. according to his companion, this is better than shooting homeless people with paintball guns. when the video shudders into view, 10-year-old richard gansey iii stands on a heropa beach lit by mitsubishi headlights. the little boy is festooned in birds, a hilariously tall stork standing on his left shoulder, half a dozen tiny swallowtails running down his right arm. he looks very solemn and alarmingly adorable. from behind the cellphone camera, a voice (kavinsky’s) (drunk) (not more than usual) calls out:] Okay mini-Dick, telling your loving public what gives.

[ Dick is, in fact, more interested in the swallows than the camera. He seems relatively at peace with the stork, even when it starts to climb from his shoulder to the top of his head, but the swallows are running along his arms, and he has to keep moving to give them somewhere to go. ]

Are you sure the birds won't be scared of the fireworks? I don't want to make them -

[ Then he does look up, and sees the red light on Kavinsky's phone. His eyes widen. ]

We're already live?!

[ Concern is instantly replaced with the kind of smile that hints this is not his first photoshoot. ]

Hi, everyone! Joseph wants to tell all of you about the Baby Martha.

[ He pauses, looking expectantly at the boy offscreen. ]

Motherfucker I said no name-- fine. Fine, [kavinsky's disembodied voice is annoyed, but cussing at a smol child is just regular kavinsky. he never got pr lessons.] Baba Marta is a celebration of Spring. Life and renewal, bitches! March is a grandma who spends all winter fucking, shakes out her broke-ass mattress to make the last big snow, and the sun comes out when she smiles. [this is not the version you’re going to find in an encyclopedia. It’s also not child-safe. but everything is still mostly ok.] Me and homey here are bringing the Goddamn season.

[ Dick is wearing an expression of strong disapproval every time Kavinsky curses. It’s the kind of look you might see from your dad, which roughly translates as We’ve talked about this, son. But if they have, Kavinsky was clearly not listening, and Dick is not about to be put off by words alone. There are, after all, going to be fireworks. He was promised. ]

Okay, okay! Show them. Oh, wait.

[ One hand waves at the stork, getting it to fly, and then Dick starts to gather the swallows into the relative safety of his hands. ]

Fuckin’ sweet. [and then the camera fumbles. kavinsky clamps gansey’s little head between his elbows and puts his hands over his own ears, so that the camera winds up with a weird, skewed shot of the sky. the next instant, fireworks rip out of the mortar embedded nearby in the sand and up into the night overhead. deafening. red and white. the imports of heropa might even hear it, the distant pop-pop that goes with the flash of smoke and color over the seaside sky, punctuating the boardwalk lights and saturday beach club music. birds soar! the video goes out.]

three ✩ audio | id reads "karen starr"

[boobwindow]

[ It's not particularly noisy wherever Karen is. There's a lot of heavy footsteps and movement where she is, some chatting in the background that fades as she moves along.

Somewhat flatly: ]

You ever get one of those weird feelings in the pit of your stomach? The kind where you get the sense something is amiss? I mean, I assume lots of people do.

[ Guess who got a bad feeling when she found herself in the Porter lab without warning? ]

On top of losing about a week and some, I have to admit I did do a double-take looking at the network just now. It is April Fools, so I had to wonder if this was some elaborate prank people were in on until I did some back-reading and realized something's gone awry with imPorts again.

[ There's just a sigh from her. A quiet, but long and exasperated one. ]

So... do we know who or what did this? Somebody please tell me my employees at Starrware still have their minds. Or ages? I have no idea.

Also I hope somebody's been feeding my cat while I've been gone.

VIDEO;

[itistolaugh]

[ The camera focuses on a slightly frayed at the edges Harley, and anyone who cares to notice the background will see that it's books and pretension all the way down. This is definitely not her own home. ]

Okay, look, this whole thing is weird as hell, but I think-- I mean, I've been doing a pretty good job! He's got clothes that fit, he's eaten real food, and that's basically all you gotta do, right?

But this is -- I can't anymore, not this. I am not answering fourteen year old Jonathan Crane's questions on how to chat up girls. Someone else take this, I'm tagging out.

[ There’s a rustling, somewhere off to the right. Then the sound of a book being piled on another, faster and faster, followed by a plaintive voice.]

I wasn’t asking about girls at all…

[ Not like that! All he’d asked for was Harley’s input on what girls had wanted when they had talked to him and offered him food. This is too much. ]