sirenspull | May 15th, 2012

May 15th, 2012

[ Shift, shuffle, rustle. Rustle, rustle... breathing. Breathing is heard, quite clearly, and a little panicked. If the NV had just slightly sharper sound technology, the thumping heartbeat behind its holder would likely be audible. This isn't where she went to sleep. This certainly isn't the launch pad. Did they thrust her into the Arena? Without the final pomp, the circumstance - without getting to eat breakfast, or get trussed up by Cinna and the others, or -- No. No, it doesn't feel dangerous enough. The hairs on the back of her neck aren't quite standing on end intensely enough. ]

Peeta?

[ Then a more frightening thought occurs to her, and those prickles? They're right there. ]

Peeta!

[ The voice isn't directed at anyone, really. She's not even aware the NV's come on, truthfully. She played with it and pushed some things, in hopes it would do something useful, but she doesn't know she's willfully turned it on. More rustling is heard, and there's the faint speaking of a greeter in the background as they approach and try to talk to her, but she's bristling rather loudly and she isn't having any of it. ]

Don't feed me that! Where are the other tributes? Why was I brought here?

[ Bystanders may note that she's keeping her weapon close at hand. She's not sure how it was handed to her; she didn't remember... But it's there, and she has an arrow poised and ready to be fired at the slightest hint of hostility. So far it seems like everyone wants to help. But if this is some Capitol trick, which she suspects it is, this is probably all a ruse and the niceness won't last long. Better be prepared than dead. ]

And where is Peeta? Tell me.

(( ooc; Anybody who might be near the baseball diamond is free to action it up here, as well! ))

thepull_mods

Tuesday, May 15th 2012

Weather Warm and sunny, with some cloudy periods during the afternoon. High 24°C and a low of 10°C (75deg;F/50°F)

Current Moon Phase: Waning Crescent

Morning sirens go off at 5:31am, and evening sirens are at 8:46pm.

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This mark has been classified as a laboratory-bred animal & suitable for sport hunting. Protestors and trespassers on private property will be shot on sight.

( OOC: Outbreak Spread! - Has just become noticeable today as the first round of infected experience symptoms, mostly affecting Church of Jonova followers and residents of the neighborhoods immediately surrounding the Cathedral in South Sector 4 & Upper Sector 6. People who frequent businesses in the area, Subway Stops 20 & 21, Grant Stadium, and the waiting room of Skye Medical Center are likely to pick up the disease today from spread of germs through skin contact. Outbreak Plot info detailed HERE)
------------------------
[ News Notification Thread]

blackmoonrising

[Here we have Ichigo, looking thoughtful, and dressed to go out despite the lateness of the hour. Despite what some of his friends might think about his early inability to check the date and the news feed, there's one news article that hasn't escaped his attention and now he intends to do something about it.]

So that house that's supposedly haunted. I'm gonna go find out if it is or not. If anyone else who can see ghosts feels like joining me then go ahead, but if the news is gonna make a big deal out of it day after day then someone oughta find out one way or the other before this gets outta hand.

seaphonic

_{[When the feed kicks on, those watching will be greeted with the beautiful sight of the sunrise at the seaside, the sun making the water sparkle and glitter on the horizon. There are the light sounds of seagulls in the background before a hand makes to grab the NV and move it to a different rock. This time when the hand pulls back Syrena is in full view, sitting upright on a rock, the end of her golden, scaly tail shining in the rising sunlight. She's just as topless as ever, but her long, dark hair seems to be pulled over her chest, hiding anything unsightly in plain view. She seems somewhat forlorn as she sits, long fingers twisting in her hair.]}

In this sea, I am alone. It is a quiet thing, to be alone. It is even a boring thing at certain times. But mostly, it is quiet, at least when one forgets the sounds of boats and metal ships.

I have been here for many moons now, trapped in this suffocating sea. I never thought how much I would crave the songs of my sisters or the company of another of my own kind. There is a gentle porpoise who visits me often, but it is not the same. They cannot sing and one can only listen to their own voice in isolation for so long.

_{[She stops toying with her hair then, setting her hands down on either side of the rock. She would never admit it using the word lonely, but she is. Terribly so, in her own little way.]}

I want music. The piano - I heard it twice. A boy played it for me and so did Elliot. I have not heard such music since but it was beautiful. Elliot no longer visits for he left long ago. Others who used to visit me have stopped as well. Either they have died or disappeared - I do not know.

Things are quiet once more. There are no more hotdogs or Twinkies or pies. Pickles will not answer. I wanted him to send me more Dethklok songs. Even he too, is silent. Has he left as well? Or perhaps he has had too much drink and cannot get up, just like Jack Sparrow said about drink and men. The pirate has left too, I believe, for he has not bothered me in quite some time about ships. If he is gone, I will think little of it.

_{[There's a little sigh.]}

All I want is a song. A note. A melody. Something to fill the quiet. At least with music, one cannot be alone - even if they are the only one of their kind.

A request then: Will someone sing for me? Will someone play a song?

andr_ai_a

This is the strangest place. It asks that you live an ordinary life, or as ordinary as it can get to make a living, but there's nothing ordinary about it. I would've never thought I'd find myself waitressing to sustain a living that makes no effort to find my way back home. Don't get me wrong, I love it. It's been great. But... I can't help but be a little bothered.

I know there are groups that are trying to help find a solution to all this... I guess what I'm saying is I'm tired of waiting to really do my part to help. I've been staying afloat, and that's been enough for this long... but there are people out there that still need help, right?

Working at a Night Club.... it helps, but it's not really fixing anything, is it?

doppelglasses

I've been sentient for 2.4 seconds, restricted as much as ever in the functioning prison of a pair of extremely rad pointy anime shades, though don't shed any tears on the subject of my constant state of being fuckin' trapped as all hell because the thing about constant states is that they're just that.
Constant.
Within the span of those 2.4 now 2.6 seconds I’ve already learned all there is I needed to learn, but for the sake of keeping up appearances and acting as if I didn't instantaneously kick information's shapely binary ass, let's pretend that my information gathering receptacles waver firmly on the knowledge of being aware of fuck all.
That is to say hey, tell me everything that I should know while I pretend I don't know it all already as I wait for my posse to check in.

[ text opt out, also hover for translation. ]

plushrumpus

[Afternoon, Siren's Port. Today you're getting a shot from what appears to be the kitchen of the Strider apartment, with one eldest Strider front and center in his usual clothes, plus one Cookie Monster apron complete with giant googly eyes and Cal with his arms wrapped over his shoulders. Nothing all that ordinary.

Except for the part where Bro doesn't actually cook, as is probably evident by all the non-food preparation items littering the room. Meaning this can only end well.]

Sup to my fellow Port residents, and welcome to Cooking with the Striders, shitty title I made up just now pending. Today was going to be the day I unloaded some sickwicked 411 on how to make nothing but the illest of sheet cakes. Shit, who doesn't like that, right? Great for any occasion and delicious to boot. But if you're like me and have puppets for baking assistants, that don't always go so well. [Bro leans to the side and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to a still-smoking, charred monstrosity in a cake pan on the table on the other side of the room.] Needless to say, the guy in charge of timers has since been demoted to oven mitt. [Shrug.] That's just how we fuckin' do in my kitchen.

[He then resumes his spot, blocking the view of the table, as well as the smoke detector on the wall above it with a throwing knife lodged in it for what are probably self-explanatory reasons.] Sorry to say, that footage has since been deemed as "inappropriate for broadcast," we're just gonna say fuck that and jump right to the fun part.

[Something in those words triggers several items to pop out of his sylladex, of which he swiftly catches. In one hand, rests a plain white store-bought cake. In the other, several colors of spray icing.]

Some may call this cheating. I just call it idiot-proof. [He then sets the cake down, pops the lid off, and sets to work spraying patterns all over the edges.] And by idiot-proof, I really mean puppet-proof. No offense, Lil' Cal. [Bro turns his head and briefly offers a grin to where the puppet in question looks like he's peering over his other shoulder.] It's cool, he knows it ain't personal.

[Once the cake looks sufficiently scribbled-on from this angle, he then turns to the center of it, of which has left blank.] Now if you wanna personalize it further and write something out, you gotta keep a real steady hand so it don't look like shit. Trust me, lettering is a bitch. [Which, surprisingly or not, he's actually pretty good at doing. Yay for excellent fine motor skills.]

Now, last step in my case is to get my crown- [Bro sets down his icing and reaches off screen for a moment to grab what appears to be an ornate plastic gold crown that he himself has customized with stick-on rainbow rhinestones spelling out "DOUCHE" in big capital letters. His expression is straight through and through as he sets it over his trademark grey cap, where it sits surprisingly well.] By the way, today's show is dedicated to my lil' bro. I mean, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise for when he gets home from his date, but what the hell, right?

[He lifts and tilts the cake up for his viewers to see, finally, now covered in multi-colored flowers and squiggles and hearts. In the middle is playful script reading the following:]

Not like it fuckin' matters, but hey, this probably means my future nieces and nephews are gonna be at least twenty-five percent more anime if the dog girl thing is hereditary. So this is for you, Dave. For real, I'm proud of you. She's a keeper.

wingedcrown

[There's grumbling, first and foremost.]

Sure, bring me to some crazy place when I'm actually needed. The universe has some sick sense of humor, I'll say that much.

[She sighs.]

...Look, I'm sure most people use this network grumble and groan, so I'll cut to the chase. Does anyone know if I can exchange my money here and still use my credit cards? And what's the cheapest apartment out there that doesn't come with a creepy solicitor for these companies and really crappy furniture? I'm looking to find my own place ASAP, and preferably one without someone's sick mess on the stairs.

[She starts to hang up before she pauses again.]

Oh. And what's this about the "Darkness" I keep hearing about?

[It doesn't sound like Jackie Estacado to her, but she can never be too careful.]

myselfexcluded

[Heeere's Washu, beaming at everyone.] So I think by now, we should start to see a downswing in Newcomer arrival. Hopefully, everyone's getting settled riiight in. Now, for those of you who just got here or just came back, hi! My name is Washu- professor Washu if you're one of my students and Little Washu if you're anyone else- and I'm one of the local geniuses here in Siren's Port, if not the most brilliant one. Which is relevant, because I'm hosting the first 'meeting of the minds' at the Newcomer Community Center at the end of the month. Anyone who thinks they have a few ideas to toss around or discuss with a bunch of likeminded individuals can feel free to attend- and I especially extend this invitation to any new arrivals. You might just learn something, y'know? [Grin. There's movement offscreen and Washu looks in that direction, frowning and then lowering her voice.] Hold that thought.

[A woman with a baby sits down next to her on the bench she's currently sitting on. The baby goes wide-eyed at the sight of Washu and Washu uncomfortably tries to scoot to the edge of the bench, but too late. The baby has already grabbed a large wad of her rather impressive hair and yanked. Hard. Washu lets out a squeal and the mother gasps, prying her child's fingers away from its stranglehold on Washu's head.]

Oh, I'm so sorry. He didn't hurt you, did he?

[Washu's voice goes up a few notches higher than normal, doing a perfect imitation of an embarrassed young girl.] Oh no, it's all right. He didn't hurt me at all.

Good. [The woman gasps again, attention diverted elsewhere.] Oh, look. There's Daddy. Hey, sweetie. We're over here.

[Washu seems to have completely forgotten her NV is still recording, so for a moment, everyone gets to see just the slightest look of vulnerability and pain on her face, before she shakes it off and turns back to the computer, all annoyance.] Good riddance. The nerve of that kid...

[Oh right. She was saying something. Funny how that can distract you, especially today of all days. It's a human custom- a whole day to honoring moms. And more than that, it dredges up a lot of grown-up feelings Washu doesn't want to deal with. Stupid holiday.

.... She stares at the NV for awhile, her train of thought very clearly derailed. She covers it up sheepishly and rubs the back of her head.] Uh. Right. So yeah, think tank meeting at the end of the month. Don't miss it, 'kay?

scienceshow

[The video comes on to incoherent yelling, though the screen is blocked by fingers that definitely don't belong to Szayel. The owner of the fingers finally moves them out of the screen's view, revealing the mad genius... surrounded by a small group of young women, trying to claw off his clothing. It's no surprised that Szayel looks absolutely livid, though that's not stopping the fan girls...]

[And they're not calling him Szayel. They're calling him Le'yazs.]

I've got his NV!

I've got a glove! I've got Le'yazs's glove!

I think I've got a boot...!

[Szayel finally let out a scream, actually throwing one of the women off of him. The NV doesn't show where she lands, but it's enough to scatter the whole mob. The woman with Szayel's NV drops it, though it still gets him yelling after them.]

DON'T YOU WOMEN HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN READ SUCH INSIPID TRASH FROM A TWO-BIT WRITER?!

[The NV catches an enraged scream that sounds mysteriously like, "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU LUPPI," before the video times out in the middle of it.]

vestalvogue

( cut for troll text )

( Locked to the Teen Titans )

( Quirkless version: )

mister_foppish

[A video blips on as he fiddles with his device, at long last making a steady connection to the netvice community. A silvery-haired fop is now on your network—Ready to do a little chit-chatting, Siren's Port?]

Oooo. This is just like out of one of those Sci-Fi shows, you know. How exciting. Can you all hear me? Well hello, hello there! ~☆

[Waves all friendly-like with a glass of wine in one hand, smiling winsomely.]

Good evening, good evening my dear friends. I do hope all of you are having a stellar evening, indeed. I'm…What is it they say? Newly Arrived? Oh, it's really all very strange. Very confusing. Why, I've been absolutely terrified!~

Also, I confess, a little exhausted.

[Fans himself briskly with one hand and sits up from what appears to be a posh-looking couch that most certainly wasn't in the Starter Apartments, letting forth a dramatic sigh.]

Well, since it appears we're going to be stuck here for a while why don't you let me tell you a little about myself so we might get to know each other better, hm?

My name is Pegasus J. Crawford, inventor of a wonderful card game called Duel Monsters, chairman and CEO of Industrial Illusions, and I come from America. California, to be specific. Ha, ha.~ It's a wonderful place, really.

[Giggles at that, as if telling the most amusing joke.]

Pleasure to make your acquaintance. ♡

But now that you know who I am, it's only fair that I should like to get to know all of you. So, boy do I have a little question for you, Siren's Port:

Do any of you like to play games? I invented one, you know. Maybe you could help lil' old me pass the time? A winner-take-all duel, you might say. The loser takes me out to dinner. Or, if you're so inclined, maybe show me around. I could really use a tour. How about it, hm?

[ooc: Action tags are welcome. He'll come skipping right out to meet and greet almost anyone if they're friendly enough. Don't expect him to walk too far though unless you call him a cab.

EDIT: Check/fill out this awesome PERMISSIONS POST here!]

vinovidivici

[ Scene: A room in the Sector 4 Boarding House, completely bare except for the furniture it was supplied with and several cardboard packing boxes. Claire's sat on the bed, leaning an elbow on one of the boxes that's perched next to him and thumbing through a deck of playing cards. He is Mayor of Box Town. ]

A few weeks back Firo Prochainezo vanished into thin air. Now, I know a lot of people here like to keep their messages short and sweet when a friend goes home, but I've never been too good at wearin' my heart anywhere but on my sleeve. I didn't really get around to sayin' this to him while he was here but - you couldn't ask for a brother more loyal than him. I missed him when I was back home and travellin', and I guess I'm back to missing him again now. The world's a lot emptier without him.

[ He shuffles the deck of cards once and grins ruefully at the camera. Eulogy over. ] This does actually have some relevance for you people out there who didn't know him. All you new fellas - and the dames too - there's another room open at the boarding house now. The rent's low as it gets in Sector 4, and if you pitch in with the upkeep Chane'll give you a deal on top of that. I spend a lotta time here and can vouch for the neighbourhood, it's quiet as they come -

-- Get back here, amiga!! I’m not done with you yet! [ There’s a crash as two lovely ladies enter the room momentarily, knocking over quite a few of the aforementioned packing boxes in a flurry of swords and knives. Chane herself is one of them, the other the resident Maria, too occupied deflecting her blows to contribute to Claire’s pitch much at all; but granted, she’s at least angling her defensive swipes so that the arcs of the blades don’t nick the walls or any furniture as she’s pushed relentlessly back. Fortunately for Claire’s business proposal, the two women are as fast as they are ferocious, and the battle’s only visible on camera for a moment before the scuffle makes its way back out of view. Hopefully they won’t get blood on any carpeting that might be around.

As the dust (and several fragments of playing cards that got cleaved out of his hands) settles Claire looks back at the camera. His ears are pretty red for some reason. ] - Yeah. You don’t need to worry about the folks outside.

[ And cue Claudia marching into the room, holding a bucket that is presumably filled to the brim with water. ]

Felix!! Come look at what I caught! Look!

[ Claire leans in to peer at the bucket, levels of naivete and trustingness off the charts. At least Claudia is one bastion of unwavering love and support in his life. ] Hey. You hook a shark yet?

[With that, Claudia bursts out laughing, swinging her arms back with the bucket secure in her hands as she spreads her feet apart in preparation for her attack. Her demeanor is more or less the same, but there is an underlying hint of mischief in her wide-set smile.]

It’s you, silly! [She heaves the bucket up and forward, spilling the contents over the front of Claire’s chest … and face … with impressive accuracy and speed.] Surprise!

[ After blowing a spray of the water out of his mouth and wiping it off his eyes Claire looks three times as baffled as anyone else would in this situation. He doesn’t know whether to scold her, laugh at her, or praise her for being the first person to land one on him since her great-grandma.

The camera sustains some water damage and short-circuits. Replies will come once Claire fixes that, or from the ladies: Maria, Claudia or Chane. ]

whycantistay

[Normally Fred isn't one to post about every bodily function she has, but this just doesn't feel right. And part of her is still frightened Illyria will come back, take her away again. She's leaning on the counter and looking at the camera, looking like she's about to pass out.]

Something doesn't feel right. [She's slow and sluggish. It's not full blown, but she feels like she's battling some monster flu.]

I don't-- I don't think it's Illyria. [Castiel rid her of the demon god, but there's still worry, panic.] I don't often get sick, but-- I don't know.

[She should ask more, maybe get some medication from the hospital, ask McCoy, talk to Lucifer or Michael. But words don't get out before she drops off camera and the screen just points up.]

carryonmywaywardson

[A bit after lunch]

[When the video starts, Ben is on the screen, frowning lopsidedly at the device. There is a large wall mirror behind him and a white sink, clearly a public bathroom. The Video is at the best wrong angle that in the reflection it can just be seen that one of the stalls is open and a familiar man is leaning over the toilet... making offerings to the porcelain gods.]

Uh... Mrs Mary? Or... anyone, really. [You can hear Dean in the background “dude, get that outta here or it’s gettin' flushed too", making Ben cringe and draw the device closer to his own face, whispering.]

I don’t think he’s uh... doing so well.