sirenspull | Entries tagged with !: alois trancy

Seriously though after coming back from the past and all i am appreciating the internet more than ever. Cameras too

Darling right?

( not an ic cut )

Portraits were so much more tedious in the time I come from. because of the whole history thing, I've been thinking about that... even if we hate things, we have the internet now.

I got a callback from a job, yesterday afternoon. 'My new boss' said that because I'm new here (which fuck you I've had three birthdays here is it my fault you're ancient and think years don't count for anything? No, it's not) I only have one slip-up before I'm fired. I'm only working there for the discounts. I hope she doesn't think she scares me. I guess they get busy round Valentines Day though so she needs the help. My stupid maid isn't going to come back but if she did she'd really be in for it since it's her fault it's come to this. What a class act. [He won't even breach the subject of his butler.]

That said how is the working class treating you all these days?

faking

And? How did you present-day types like my era? Hardly, I'll bet. Don't worry, I agree with you. All things considered, it was shit. That is, unless you were wealthy and well-respected, but even then, I'd be sad to miss plug-in night lights and Angry Birds and ModCloth. Actually, even here was a little forward of when I came from... A little west, too. [Though his Queen's English surely gave that away already.

Alois is all dressed up to go out, just doing up the gold buttons on a winter coat as he stands in front of the NV.] I hope you all understand, [he says, chin tilted down to watch his fingers, and a little bit solemnly,] how lovely we can have it here.

Ciel should be home soon. [His head's up again, and he tugs his coat down to straighten it, and then reaches out of frame. There's a rustling, and when his hands are back in view, they're holding a bouquet of white roses and baby's breath.] I'm going to see him now, and he's feeling better. Should get some cookies from the kitchen before I go... [Cos fuck hospital rules on food. He'll probably end up getting in trouble with the nurses... He reaches out to switch off the video, but pauses to add: ]

Times like these we get our hands dirty, don't we?

faking

Hello, hello. Well, obviously it's been Christmas decorating time for a while, now, and I've been doing my share. The main Christmas tree is my favorite yet, I think. I'm not done putting stuff on it... It's covered in strawberries and butterflies, though, and streamers, and the tree topper is koalas! It's not very traditional, this year, but that's because I took all of the angel decorations and put them in Sebastian's room. I thought they suited each other better. Ahhh, I need help with the rest of the house, though, so someone had better volunteer...

Anyway, show me your trees, too, will you? It doesn't matter what you consider the Christmas spirit to be, you've got to get into it. Sure, it's a little gaudy, but once a year isn't so bad, is it? And speaking of which, we'll be having a Christmas party soon, in just a few days. From what I know, Ciel would like to see such faces as Doctor Yumeno's and Miss Amy Sorel's, and I'm hoping my Lady Alouette will drop by, Yosuke too, and - [He laughs.] One Mister Crowley is welcome, also. And I know Ahiru wanted people over, probably just about everyone who loves her, which I'm sure will be enough to eat us out of house and home, for at least a little while. I look forward to Gil's exhausted face. Anyway! Obviously, if you work for Funtom, you're invited too. Oh, this is ridiculous, I don't know why everyone just doesn't come over, I don't think it'd make any difference. We'll have music and wine and maybe ice skating, I think I want ice skating. What do you think?

Ahhh, okay, invitations are out of the way. Hot coffee and paper snowflakes time. [Motormouth! Has he been having coffee already??? But he slows down and shuts up, now, at least.]

faking

[It's a bit early - maybe too early to be up if you haven't any pressing business for the day - and so Alois is still in his nightgown, cream-colored and lace-collared, sitting at a vanity with a cup of morning tea. It's still steaming. The bedroom around him is all in lavenders, and he's staring idly to the left of the camera at the flower-hued wallpaper. His cheek is in his hand, elbow on the dresser.]

When did you realize you'd never see home again? [he asks, and dips a spoon into his tea.] I mean, right, maybe we'll all go back, maybe something will happen, maybe maybe maybe, but while you're here, you'll never see it again. When did that hit you for real? When did it work its way through your teeth and tongue and up into your head? Or hasn't it yet...

[Clink, clink, goes his spoon.]

About a ten hour flight, and I could be there, you know. I looked it up and everything. I'm less than half a day away from my home, but people are touring it every day, walking through my gardens and all the things they rearranged in my rooms. Well, not every day. Wednesday through Sunday, eleven a.m. to four p.m. I looked it up on the website. They're even decorating for Christmas, though they're closed on the holiday...

[His face goes strange, a wrinkling of his nose and a tug of his lips. The spoon stills.] I can look at pictures, and look at everything they've done to it, but that's all, just pictures. I'm not even so far away, not really, but I can't ever go and see it. It was over a hundred years ago; it doesn't smell like me anymore, doesn't look like I lived there at all. Like it was never mine, just a bit of history, just like I wasn't actually there, no portraits or family crest, and doesn't that make sense, sort of? Because I'm here now.

—Comes with having a famous house, I suppose, but...

[Finally, he flicks his eyes up toward the camera, and reaches for it.]

They say, 'My home is my castle,' but where can we even hold court here? [The end.]

faking

[The video is moving, when it comes on; it's being set aside. It blurs past legs (and torn stockings, a sock slid down a calf, and raspberried bruises), the owner of which seems to be sitting on a curb. When it's settled, it's clear the NV's been nestled in grass, so there are a couple of blades poking into view. But across the way is what's important: a family of small ducks waddling round a fountain. People are walking all around - you can hear them, their chatters and leather toe taps - and children are pulled away from the birds' paths by the quick hands of their mothers. Not many people are leisurely.

Alois' voice is, though, when he speaks.]

Someone from home, come and fetch me, will you? Bring handkerchiefs, and I want to stop for an ice cream come before we go back.

[There's a great sniff, which sounds a little gruesome. In the camera's peripheral, his foot shifts.]

Here is what I learned today, for those who might be none the wiser. I don't think the concept of defending anyone or anything is really real. I think, when it comes down to it, we see something we don't like so we get pissed off.

It's the truth, but it sounds a lot less pure than saying you're defending justice or friends or your good causes, huh?

[He laughs, too, the sound a little biting. A spray of shredded lettuce leaves arches over the camera, and flutters down a little ways a way. Some ducks start to talk and come clamoring for it. Alois shuts off his NV.]

faking

I'm sure she didn't have any friends or anything, because she was a fucking bitch and no one could possibly like her and no one had any reason to at all in the first place, but Hannah Anafeloz went home or off to die or whatever the hell she felt like doing that wasn't here. This is a useless fucking announcement and no one's going to give a shit about it or her anyway, but I thought it appropriate to at least say a couple of words about her absence, seeing as how it'll affect at least a couple of people negatively, fucking selfish slut that she is. That she was. Pretty awful maid to make me go around and do something like this, but I guess it can't be helped. What's done is done.

I guess we can close the book on that, now.

faking

[Firstly, Alois is smiling sweetly, looking very much like a darling who's been given flowers.

Secondly, and much more abruptly, he slams a bottle of wine down onto the table, just in front of his NV.

His voice is triumphant when he says,]

Today.

Legal drinking age.

[Cork's off. Feed ends.]

faking

Good afternoon. I do think I'm getting used to this, though. [Enough, at least, to abandon text. There's a good few she might look familiar to, if only because— well, Alois' facial features didn't actually change a whole lot, once awash in estrogen. It's primarily the voice - just a little lighter - as well as the much longer hair and the cleavage that make the picture.

Said cleavage, by the way, seems to be housing a small animal. It's just kind of nesting, chilling out, may even be asleep. Another of the things is on Alois' hair. As in, it's clinging to the blonde curtain over her shoulder, scrabbling around as though it might be caught.]

The, you know, change, I mean, yes, it happened to me. [NO, REALLY???] And it's still awfully - uh - okay, all right; it makes me want to puke if I think too hard about it and I'm pretty sure I'll never enjoy the dreaded lady's hat, but I mean, the rest of it's all right. Actually, wouldn't you say baps are a little convenient! You can keep things there, or mess with them if you're bored. I saw it's supposed to go away soon, but... well, I'll miss all these clothes I bought.

[So many. So many clothes.

She scritches the soft little head that's resting at her chest, with just her index finger.]

I assume loads of people will be celebrating, if everything gets fixed. I was thinking about having a party for it, myself. With themed games, like spear-the-pig and clam grabs!

[SPARKLE]

It's great, isn't it? Being able to have parties whenever you want? Without anyone stupid and awful talking to you or asking you what you want or deciding they know your preferences already so they go and arrange for the party and it turns out to be exactly perfect and beautiful even though you didn't even say what you were thinking? It is so great to throw a party without those things!

[SPAR...KLE......... The sugar glider in her cleavage dives away from her escalating voice, which makes her realize herself.]

...Anyway. Let me know if you'd be interested. Bodies are the perfect thing to celebrate.

faking

If ANYONE is going to complain then i absolutely get to too.

complain!
complain!
complain!

I don't feel any better. do you?

(and he has definitely become a she.)

faking

I never thought it would, but technology has finally lost its shine. Cars were a great change from horeshit in the streets, and touchscreen junk was all pretty interesting, but...

[This boy seems forlorn, like the Tooth Fairy's lies have all come out, or like someone's just told him that white chocolate isn't real chocolate. Conmen!]

It's all so normal now. Magical boxes named after fruits aren't magical anymore. YouTube isn't a sign from or against God. I don't even know when that happened, but I'm not a fish out of water any longer. Didn't it kind of feel like a status symbol at first? Being from times forgotten or unknown, that sad mystery? So, the integration really is queer. And I'm only using that word out of defiant nostalgia because it doesn't even mean the same thing now! [A huff of a laugh, a see what I mean? shrug.] I miss my temporal paradoxes, to tell you the truth...

[How wistful.]

And I miss castles, and my castle. Or, well, everything there was a castle compared to the apartment buildings and offices here. The new-new millenium is harsh and clean, but they don't make things pretty anymore. You know that? I have a book, of course, on the house I left behind all that time ago -- it still exists here, just old and full of tourists -- but it will never look as good as it did when I was its master. So cars sure are something, and the idea of airplanes - well - they made me want to shit myself, but they're amazing. And - And people have gone up to the fucking stars! [For the first time during this feed, he's lit up, quite taken with this idea but protesting it at the same time.] People can kiss moondust for real! And the sun is, it's... Your twenty-first century lot's all over the sky and I can blow dry my hair if I want to and take bright pictures any time I want, but even then, I'm not glad to be accustomed. I don't like...

[His nose wrinkles, and he doesn't say whatever it is that he's really thinking. Instead he sets his chin at his palm, and considers the NV in front of himself: its buttons are well worn by his thumbs. It's the first piece of technology he ever 'bonded' with, and there's been a lot of him in it.]

If anyone new here is listening to this, I just want to say that there are worse hells and homes than here, and you can find them if you really want to. I thought maybe I wouldn't talk anymore, that I could recreate my home here in a house that's almost as grand and much more full of people, even if they're people who fucking leave all the time. But this isn't anything like that. This is more of the world than I ever knew, before.

[That... became embarrassing, somehow. Alois shakes his head quickly, and splays his fingers over his cheeks.]

What I'm saying is that I still, still, still don't know what to do, but there's plenty of praying mantises to be found in the garden this time of year!

[SHORT BREATH. Never mind all of that. He slouches a little, to make himself more comfortable, and takes a tone of business instead.]

Lastly: Hannah, you'll take a word with me in my bedroom.

((Me? I've been gone and MIA because life enjoys its shenanigans. Him? Well, housemates and co., he's been around, but hermity and moody and not as HILARIOUSLY GREAT as he usually is ~~which was a nice time of respite, I'm sure~~.))

faking

Luca Macken is dead again

[it's possible he won't respond to much over the NV, or at least with nothing terribly substantial. for housemates' reference, he's shut away inside of his personal bedroom, nightgowned, sleeping for most of this past while.]

faking

If there's something I hate about here—

[He's in a room that seems entirely made of windows, and he's surrounded by flowers. His poet's shirt is lavender; he's wearing suspenders.]

... I like it here, you know. I'll stay here always, I'm sure. [For the purposes of avoiding his otherwise destined future, at least.] But if there's something I hate...

[His shoulders draw up like he's trying to make himself little, and then he puckers his lips, full of something sour.] It makes things upside-down. Completely ruins them! If you spend a long time making yourself memorable... and - and it doesn't work, are you left with anything good? There are some people I hope I never see again, just because I'd rather them away than not having the sweetness they did before. [With a clear pout, Alois ducks his head and reaches a little to his left, to pluck and shred the leaf of a plant.] It makes everything else as upside-down. It can make a person favor demons and want to burn the witch. I don't know. Just, —

[With his face still tilted down, Alois angels his eyes up to the camera, pitiful.]

People get that lonely feeling, right?

[And then a glower sparks, and, embarrassed at himself for how clumsy his feelings are, he smacks the feed off for now.]

faking

Ugh, I've been laid up.

[Alois is reclining on a plush couch, which seems to make his statement more dramatic. His top half is visible, and he's dressed in a cream nightgown - lacy collar, buttons down the front - and a lavender dressing gown. He clearly isn't dead or dying and he clearly is rather well off, for someone whose tone implies that his world is slowly collapsing in on itself. (The room as seen behind him is lavish, a rich person's house. Why the hell is he even bitching?)

Well.]

This is only the first day of it and I can't even deal with that much. It's supposed to be a while before I can be about. I fear I shall waste away after days and days of nothing but rest and relaxation...

[No, seriously, he needs to check his priorities, doesn't he?]

And not even due to illness! [He's becoming animated now, a little, waving one hand. Waste away? Fat chance.] No, since this morning I've got a bum leg. Seriously. It's completely useless for anything now. And I've gotten something else useless...

[Adjusting the camera, he turns the view to a little coffee table, and atop that table is a pair of boots standing upright. They're light brown, cream-colored laces up the front, and they look like they go to mid-calf whereabouts. They're very nice boots and very unremarkable, and it's not really clear why they should be useless.

Aside from the fact that their heels are flat.]

I can't wear these at all, not even when I get better. Piece of shit. Anyway, I've got loads of others, supposed to be - safer - I won't wear any of them, though. I'm up for giving them away, if somebody wants them. They're a size nine. Claim them if you like.

[Shift, shift. He sits upright, suddenly.] Oh, but I've missed you all, tons! Well, some of you, at least. Before I was breaking legs, I was doing business, or trying to, or trying to learn, but Ciel isn't a very great teacher, don't tell him I said that. [His smile says he knows Ciel will hear of it anyway.] Funtom didn't do very well during that storm, of course, but things should be fine, now. Hey, how about this? If you get a pair of my boots, you ought to go on and see the store, too. It's a good deal, right? Right?