sirenspull | December 16th, 2012

December 16th, 2012

[ Despite some of the events that had gone on the past few days, Prince Soma still seems to be his usual upbeat self. It's December, his BFF just had a birthday, it's snowed a few times this month - a type of weather that still amazes him - and to top it all off, he's been learning so much about this upcoming holiday known as Christmas. He'd known of it slightly from back home, at least from the religious stand point, but he's recently become acquainted with all the other little festive bits that have become associated with it over the years. Santa, elves, reindeer, presents, candy canes...

Oh! And one other special thing... ]

I made Christmas cards!! Did everyone get them?!!

[ The answer to that should be 'NO' since - fortunately for some of you - Soma hasn't quite met everyone yet! ]

Oh! Probably not... Well, here it is if you wanted one!

[ Soma frowns at the screen for a moment while he remembers how to bring up paint images on his tablet-style NV. After a moment or two he figures it out and two images come through: The front of the card, first. Followed by the back of card. ]

I know they are perfect, so go ahead and print them and hang them up. I will allow it.

thepull_mods

Sunday, December 16th, 2012

Weather Mostly cloudy with a few flurries developing in the afternoon. Becoming windy late in the afternoon, before sirens. Highs of 6°C and low of 2°C. (43°F / 37°)

Current Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent

Morning sirens go off at 8:06 am, and evening sirens are at 4:10pm.

Advertisements & News

- ( Horoscopes )

- Spencer’s Hunting Grounds will be reopening tomorrow for the 18th annual Reindeer Games, a traditional hunt of Nine Wild Caribou recently shipped from mainland Canada. Tagged with the names of Santa’s Reindeer, each kill corresponds with an additional ‘Bonus Sack’ of additional hunting gear and seasonal prizes. Interest in this sporting hunt was so great that Spencer had to pull twelve lucky hunters from a pool of over 45 registrants. A young aspiring documentarian from Hawthorne University’s film school will also be permitted on the grounds to accompany the hunting party and produce a GloTV special, which will air on Christmas Day.
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[ News Notification Thread]

mouthbreathing

[It's obvious that Warsman is still at the gym, sitting side-on to the camera; behind him viewers can see a sepia poster for a classic Port boxing match, and, next to him, the corner post of a boxing ring rises up over his shoulder. Even more telling is the steady thump and grunt of men exchanging blows behind him.

Warsman himself has a towel over his shoulders and one leg pulled up on the bench while he adjusts the kneepad around his calf, fingers deftly working the straps, so that he doesn't have to look directly into the camera.]

You've probably seen the notices on the network over the last week or so- before it went down, anyway- but it doesn't hurt to remind people that we're still accepting donations for the charity drive at the Newcomer Community Center. We'd really appreciate extra volunteers, too; just contact either Ella or I and I'm sure we could work something out.

[He pauses, glancing sidelong at the screen. In the background someone hits the mat, but his thoughts are obviously on something altogether gentler; his mask creases softly around his eyes, and when he speaks it's in a lower, almost confessional key.]

I know a lot of you understand what it can be like to have very little. It would mean a lot if you could help make things just that little bit easier f-

[There's a battle-cry from the ring and suddenly, like a plummeting zeppelin, a man comes flying over the ring-ropes and crashes into Warsman; the bench upturns entirely, sending him crashing to the floor with a painful thunk. His NV rolls along the ground and comes to a rattling halt with an awkward close-up around his chest before, finally, his hand fumbles into the shot and switches it off.]

doctorfang

[The feed comes to life, and before you notice the expression, you probably note the face. It's bone-pale, with dark, bruise-like shadows set beneath golden eyes. A lock of golden hair brushes against his forehead, and he pauses, as though unsure where to begin.

That expression clears, once again replaced with the sincerity and friendliness that he opened up with.]

Hello. My name is is Dr. Cullen. [The greeting comes out quietly and softly, but with the right amount of reassurance and calm. You'll note that the face is young - way too young to accompany the title of doctor, let's be honest. But this is clearly someone who knows what he doing - when it comes to greeting people, at least. With everything else, he continues to be politely curious, and quietly baffled.]

From what I am led to believe, do I assume correctly when I say that vampires are not much of an... issue here? [He seems to hold his breath at this, curiosity blooming and anxiousness waiting, carefully in check.] Any information you have about this will be appreciated, and treated very carefully, I assure you. [He smiles again at this, grooves of dimples forming in his cheeks. Utterly charming.

And really, he is a doctor. A vampire doctor. Take with that what you will.]

fitofgrandair

This is…

[A man’s face appears, expression an odd mixture of the sardonic and amiable, with perhaps somewhere a buried uneasiness. His eyes speak of unbelief and an energy without direction.] This is the strangest book that I have ever seen. Consider my very conception of books boggled, beaten into an utter absence of understanding. I have seen a book made… What is it they call this, again? No matter, let us say ‘made monstrous,’ reshaped to suit an unearthly purpose. Am I speaking to you? I’ve no idea who you are, or whether you exist. Yet let me speak! For there is no thrill in life equal to the sound of one’s own voice.

Let it be know to all naysayers and reluctant theorists, to every doubting Thomas, that we truly do exist in the most glorious of worlds, where a man may perish one moment and roam free the next! How foolish we are to believe we might die, how foolish to fear the end when every end is a beginning! Why, just think, we may continue in this manner forever, cycling from one life into another into another, and never forgetting, and never finding darkness. The scholars of optimism would call us creatures of eternal light. Why have we wasted such years in shuddering before the great god Death, when we might in rapture have praise the god Unending?

Will it never, never end. [He blinks, appears discomforted for an instant, than shrugs.]

And here stand I, believer in nothing, adherent to no doctrine. You may count me as lost as any other man, here and elsewhere, now and forever. I am a man without port, a creature lacking in connection. I belong to this world no more than to any other… ‘This world.’ I’ve yet to know what this world is, or if it is a world; if I may be classed as alive, dead, mad. What of these titles? Call me exile, call me one of un-belonging. I will answer or ignore to my liking.

But while we’re at it, a drink? What do you say? Ah, I would give my kingdom for a bottle of wine. Of course, my kingdom amounts to a thimble—That isn’t so, I haven’t got a thimble. But I would gladly take the wine, anyway. Come, lend a hand. If you must have payment, let me serenade you with a harangue or two.

I will tell you what most surprises me: that it is not emptiness that waits beyond, but more life, or whatever we would feign call life. This, well… This puts all of my knowing to shame. [Grantaire smirks, any sign of unease covered.] But that I am accustomed to, for who can trust to knowledge? It has been a joy speaking to you; we must do this again sometime. [With that, the screen blanks, and he is gone.]

symmachy

Given recent events, I thought it would be prudent to remind you all that there are several businesses in the port that offer self-defense classes. In case there's a repeat of what happened last week, it should interest at least some of you. Better to be caught prepared than not.

Just a friendly reminder.