sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: astrid hofferson

[All that is heard at first are blasts. Quick, short fireblasts. That and the sound of high-pitched mechanical squeals dying out in an instant.

The black blurs into light, refocusing as best it can at the framerate it's going. The ~~rock~~ NV ends up on the ground next to the remains of...a cell phone. The skewed angle shows part of an exasperated Hiccup and a blur of scaly black.]

–Too close! That– that was way too close!

[There is little time to recover. More of the handheld devices on display (now complete with the Viscious Attitudes app and sharp, spindly limb accessories) start to skitter all over the street kiosk. Low growling counters the screeching...followed by another violet flash of light. The kiosk and all of its inventory is left a smoldering spot on the ground. Hiccup looks relieved, taking a moment to pat the dragon's flank.]

...Thanks, bud.

[Toothless grunts, then jerks his head up as they are interrupted by a more human scream. The initial fear of the tone dives into one of anger. The boy exchanges glances with the dragon, holding up his hands as he tries to calm the man storming over toward them.]

–Those were expensive!!

H-hey, look, I'm sorry–

–Everything's DESTROYED thanks to you and your overgrown LIZARD–

[Toothless bares his teeth, but Hiccup quickly shoves himself in front of the dragon's face.]

–He was trying to help! WE were trying to survive, okay? It's not like we knew this was going to happen– !!

–You don't get it! You just don't get it!!

[The owner of the former kiosk continues, relentless with his use of expletives. He finds himself at a loss before hastily dropping down to scoop up the NV.]

Aaand now we really have a problem! Come on, Toothless, we gotta go. NOW!

[With the NV clutched tightly to his chest, it's hard to see anything or make out what's being said. But the last line is clear. And obviously frustrated.]

–I SAID I'M SORRY!!

[The feed then cuts out.]

Current Location: Sector 2

lockandkeyblade

[You're very tall today, Siren's Port. Or rather, Sora's in a place high enough that we should all watch our step or risk a very, very long fall. Sora's rather at home at the edge of the rooftop though, and the NV's steady where it's been set. Sora's busy chewing on his pencil's eraser, pondering what to write.]

I've been thinking. We've all got things we regret. We beat ourselves up, even if there's nothing we can do about it.

[Sora's pencil takes to the paper, scrawling out his thoughts.]

'If I could just go back in time, maybe I could fix it. If I could do it all over again, I'd really change things! Make it all better.'

Right?

[He finishes decisively. Then... turns it over, folding it lengthwise. Corners down, foldback the edges and... there. One completed paper airplane, wings branded with Sora's distinctive handwriting.]

The other day, a really brave friend taught me something important. Me and my friends, we've been in some pretty scary places. When you're lost in the darkness, it can get really hard to find the light.

[He pushes up off the ground with a small bounce an stands upright on his own two feet.]

But it's always there-- you just gotta look for it. I mean, if things never happened the way they did, who knows where or even who we'd be. I'm me because of the good and the bad. Mistakes and all. I'm me because of my memories, and the people I've met along the way. Including everybody here in the Port.

It's not easy letting go. Sometimes it takes forever. But one thing I know that really helps... [One flick of his hand sends the paper airplane flying off the edge. Sora shields his eyes from the sun and stands right at the edge, watching as the wind sweeps it up and takes it on a spiralling path out of sight.

Feels good.]

... is having a somebody who'll hear you out.

So how about it?

Ever look back? Or wish you could do something all over again?

laurice

[Everyone should have a lovely view of Larry lying in a dumpster, holding his NV up. Yes, complete with stinking trash and icky things. His clothes are ripped and torn and stained in several places, the stains ranging from dirt and mud to dried blood. His hair is tousled and clearly hasn't been washed in ages. And of course, his face is a little scratched and very dirty.

He abruptly sits up with a clatter of garbage; his eyes are wide with shock, as if he'd just seen a ghost. With two heads.]

Aaaaaaaah! I'm alive! [He screams the words as if he was standing several meters away.] I can't believe I'm alive, guys! Oh man, the last thing I remember was being hunted and...and...

[Larry practically presses his filthy face into his NV, continuing his rant.]

I was dead! For real! I died and then I woke up in this dumpster! What was that all about?! [He glances down at his clothes. The only thing that is intact and clean is his orange pendant, of course. Then he sniffs. When something smells...] Why does it always have to be me?!

[While clutching the NV, he heaves himself out of the dumpster - and falls flat onto the pavement.] Owwww...by the way, does anyone know how to use a halberd? Y'know, those long ax things?

[OOC: Larry was actually killed during the Newcomer Hunt, but thanks to a certain little cat/rabbit thing that grants wishes ~~and thanks to Auste being a doofus~~, he's alive again and no one ever knew he was six feet under for a while, ahahaha.]

deformed

[ ~~You're the fandom bullfrog, SP, well done if you understand that ref.~~ Positioning the NV on a window-sill, Zuko steps back with a sceptical look as he checks it's running; he looks entirely healed since the last time he crashed into the network, thankfully, albeit as awkward as any sixteen-year-old boy possibly can. Sighing, a hand runs through his hair. ]

Um. Hello. Zuko, here.

So ... I recently arrived and I still haven't been to many places in this city. It's nowhere near as huge as Ba Sing Se — that's the biggest one back where I come from — but still pretty large. We should go explore it. [ Oops, that was a bit out of the blue, wasn't it? Not in his head, until he checks himself. ] Here, not there. Not right now, unless — you want to? I mean, I'm free, but I can wait for you if you don't take too long, I'd like to get to know where everything is.

[ Screwing his eyes shut against irritation (yes, over himself, because who insults the people they're trying to introduce themselves to?), he somewhat starts again. ]

Or I could help you out ... maybe. I don't know how much good burning things would do. [ Lifting a hand, it's clearly on fire with crackling flames and not perturbing him at all as he forgets to waft it away. ] I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, if anyone wants to bother doing stuff.

... 'Stuff'? Urgh, I sound so stupid.

[ ~~Life-changing field-trip with Zuko, anyone?~~ ]

doeswhathewants

[It's a sleep rumpled Loki, sitting up in bed, the NV floating in front of his face.]

One would think that by literally kicking the sandman in his sack- by 'the sandman' I mean Nightmare and by 'his sack' I mean his newly forged magic crown- that I would be granted a reprieve from terrible dreams and given only the good kind involving magic and all of the shaken milk I could drink.

Terrance, when next you speak to your father, do inform him of the wonderful Midgardian invention called a dance belt. With his penchant for tight, sparkly jumpsuits, it was rather like a hitchhiker's thumb, and a second navel.

Loki out!

summing_it_up

[The Great Outdoors! Well, whatever was left untouched within the city's perimeters. Still, it works. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

As the ~~rock~~ NV sits somewhere off to the side, Hiccup is seen in view with Toothless. He leans over the dragon, checking the saddle and the tethers attached to it and the prosthetic tail fin, tugging it a few times to make sure it's secure.]

Check. Check. Everything looks good! [He claps his hands together, stepping back as he does so. And after he takes a moment to approve of how well everything has held together, the boy easily swings a leg over one side, patting the scaly black flank.] Okay, buddy. I think we're ready to go–

[Go indeed- "go" is the magic word as Toothless eagerly bounds forward, wings stretching out from either side as the black dragon rushes towards the ledge of a cliff. Oh. Boy.]

–waitWAITWAITTOOTHLESS NO–

[They plunge.

A very high-pitched scream is heard, fading into the background.]

[ SOME TIME LATER: ]

[The scene stays the same, much like one of those computer screensavers used for peaceful default ambiance settings. But it isn't long before it's disturbed again, a miffed black dragon and his bedraggled boy entering in from the left side of the screen.]

I said I was sorry!

[Toothless glares flatly at Hiccup as he snorts. He shakes off the excess leaves and twigs before tromping off.

Hiccup sighs, letting his hands drop to his sides as he returns the look, watching the dragon go.]

We can try again– oh. Yeah! Okay, fine. Iii see how it is. [Pause. He suddenly looks offended.] Oh, you did not– !

[Excuse him as he chases after the dragon for a bit.]

asano_san

[Compared to a lot of the Port this month, Keigo's been in good health, and only has to sniffle and cough a few times during his post. Life with a rampaging guilt sickness is pretty easy when you blame everyone else for your problems.]

What's the point of making new friends here when they all leave you behind? First Kazuma. Now Takuto's gone.

So who's next? Anyone else want to make friends with me so you can go home and forget all about me later?

b2_dragon

[A shadow falls over the previously lovely view of an overcast sky. It's soon evident that this "shadow" holds more substance as two large green eyes peer down, right before you get a generous view of curiously snuffing nostrils.

The creature's head draws back again, head tilting in almost a comical fashion as it peers at the camera's source once again.

Then, it promptly opens its toothless jaws wide, head darting forth, and just before it snatches up the NV, two rows of teeth appear.

...You'd think it should end there, but instead, you're treated to some unpleasant chewing and smacking sounds, paired with glimpses of a pink tongue amidst teeth that seem to be trying their hardest to tear the NV apart. This lasts for about thirty seconds before it's finally ends with a wet splat as the screen flares back into brightness, having been spat out on the ground.

A rather disappointed and somewhat annoyed looking dragon growls at it in complaint.]

terrified

[The view is fumbling as soon as it starts, but a thumb's on half of the lens, so there wouldn't be much to see anyhow. Even so...]

Let - me - see!

[Each word is accompanied by a yank, and easily, the NV is hoisted into the air. Staring at the camera is a little... something, not very pleasant. It's bug-eyed, and has no mouth, but it must be the one who says,] Ha! Got it! Like you know how to work this piece of junk, Crona.

[From off camera - and now that you mention it, isn't that the top of someone's head below the view of the shrill black thing? - come very nervous words: ] But that person said it was mine... and I have to use it to ask— [Could this perhaps be the owner of that thumb? The black thing waving around the NV now hasn't any real hands to speak of - just large white fists, or that's what it seems like.]

Never mind that! What's yours is mine, right? Including your dinner if you don't shut up!

[The creature pauses, and then rubs its head with one of its fists.]

Except, uh... I don't know where to get dinner around here. That's where you come in, Canada people. Ha! Who ever heard of a place called Canada, anyway? Stuuupid. Look, is there or isn't there somewhere to get some grub around here? Crona doesn't have any money, so something like that's out! Let me know, all right? Or we'll have to end up dying of hunger right on your pretty lawn!

What? No! I can't die on someone's lawn! [Actual hands are up in the air, now, batting at the thing.] Laying on grass is too itchy! I'll get ants in my clothes! Besides, outside is too growling too much, I don't like it when the outside growls!

[The little black thing cackles - or something close to it? - and holds the NV further aloft.]

Better hurry, this thing might go quick! Can't wait to hear from you, foody people! Help a little fella like me out, all right?

[But, right before it cuts, and with desperation - ] Ragnarok! Ragnarok, wait, please ask about Lady Medu—

drinkthebleach

[Picture it: the grimy interior of an international pancake house, where all good culinary choices go to die in a semi-hygienic grave. One might ask themselves who in their right mind would hang out in such a place on a Tuesday afternoon by choice, aside from stoners and people on dates that they're trying to hide from their friends and the rest of respectable society.

Once the NV is propped up against something (presumably a napkin dispenser) that question is answered in the form of Pickles the Drummer, sitting alone in one of the faded blue and yellow booths. There's a pint of coffee and a giant stack of pancakes in front of him, slathered in butter and maple syrup. He lifts his eyebrows at the camera in response to well...everything.]

Guess this means I'm back for a while. If yer surprised, that makes two of us--I was out there tryin' to destroy that stupid piece of shit, an' it still puts me back in this place? I thought machines were supposed to be smarter than us. I've been here nine months, an' it's shaped up to have less IQ points than a fuckin' vibrator. I dunno.

Anyway, I'm glad that bein' killed was actually pretty brutal. Death, an' people gettin' murdered, that's the kinda shit my band always talked about. It's in all of our fuckin' songs. I mean, I'm a death metal musician, for fuck's sake, that's my bread an' butter right there, y'know? So it wasn't a huge let-down, that's all I'm sayin'. An' that's good: I don't wanna make no more job changes. It sucks.

But apparently the news came out an' said that I was some kinda menace, a while back. Now there's a strip club ten minutes away from my pal's apartment that won't let me back in 'cause they think I'm gonna set the girls on fire, or some bullshit like that. An' that's the fuckin' lamest part. [He rolls his eyes while delivering this hyperbole and takes a bite of pancake. And yes, being banned from a boobie bar is clearly the most inconvenient part about being gunned down by a group of Canadian robocops.]

So what else did I miss?

summing_it_up

[From this low angle, Hiccup is sitting on the floor of the apartment. It appears he's been sitting there for quite a while. All of his concentration is being poured out on the toaster that's set in his lap. He stops for a moment.]

Hhhoh great. This is just. Stuck. Jammed. I can't even–

[The toaster is fiddled with, alternating between pushing and shaking the lever loose. After another handful of seconds, he mutters to himself under his breath.]

–And it's not going to budge. Aaaastrid. [He holds the toaster up to his face for better inspection.] We can't keep doing this to Snow's stuff, it was only two steps...!

[Here, his voice trails off.

And he stays in this position for what feels like forever.]

[[OOC: And his powers have just manifested.]]

doeswhathewants

[The NV feed clicks on and Loki, looking a little worse for wear around the edges, is peering down into it, a bit wary.]

Leah? Daimon? ... if this is about those shirtless jokes- [A frown as he looks about] Oh. Oh! [Then his expression brightens.]

Well met and glad tidings, Siren's Port! It has been a while- [He pauses] For me, at least. For here...it seems less than a day has passed, but that only means I have interesting things to share and the lot of you do not. How much power this place yields to obfuscate the memories of it from even an one such as myself, and all the way back in my own world, no less!

Disconcerting.

Ah well! I shall welcome the break and consider this a much needed vacation. After all, I have saved Midgard no less than three times since I returned. Only 997 more times to go before we are even.

Ah- if you meet a verbose magpie, converse with him at your own peril lest he talk you into swallowing your own tongue.

that_is_asecret

[Xellos floats lazily, resting on air, eyes closed, seemingly having a nap. He stretches a moment, and then sits cross-legged in the air]

A question for all of those involved with magic in their respective worlds, how exactly does it work where you are from? Things always seem to work slightly differently in each new place, and of course there is always plenty of room for creative individuals to revolutionize its practice. If you would be so kind, I'd greatly appreciate it.

[He holds his chin, with a curious expression on his face]

For those lacking in magical talents, two simple riddles.

One tooth to bite,
he's the forests foe.
One tooth to fight,
as all Norse know.

What is it?

A man is six feet tall, is a clerk at a butcher shop, and wears size 11 shoes.

What does he weigh?

underdogged

[The weariness in his voice isn’t a simple case of fatigue; he sounds troubled. Not that it hasn’t been keeping him up at night. If this wasn’t just a voice message, you’d be able to see the dark blotches under his eyes.]

[Kaiji clears his throat, an attempt at being casual.]

Wanted to throw a question out there. When do you forgive someone? [a pause- it’s not really his place to do the forgiving in this situation] Or… when do you turn a blind eye to something… something fucked up? What if they’ve done their time for it? What circumstances make it…

[He trails off. It used to be so simple. Coming here had complicated matters- he still didn’t know where he stood with Tonegawa but it hadn’t mattered before. They were never supposed to see each other again. Even here, their past was a largely taboo subject, never to be spoken out loud but ever present in resentful undertones and snipes. Even so, a small part of him was disturbed by how lacking in intensity his hatred of the other man was- and even more so by the tinier part of him that respected him in spite of everything.

And now… now he can’t stop himself making the connections, asking the same uncomfortable questions; is he a hypocrite if he forgives one but not the other? Does it matter if they’ve changed? Why they did it? Does it ever go away?]

...tch. It's a stupid question.

( PRIVATE to Claire Stanfield )

doeswhathewants

[The NV clicks on suddenly, picture sideways, a bit of ice melting on one corner of the screen (likely what knocked the device over and turned it on). The porch of the HoA and the lawn beyond it are recognizable.

As is the owner of the NV, standing on the lawn in the midst of snow drifts and a handful of large, blue skinned humanoids that are subsequently attempting to kill him.

Loki is clad in green leather.

And a gold horned helmet, which he is currently using as a weapon, running towards one of the blue skinned creatures with a hearty battle cry, goring the forst giant in his midsection. Swirls of ice, of green magic and a miniature army of garden gnomes dressed as the various Avengers are a perfect picture of chaos doing battle. The surroundings somehow remain in tact.]

I will defend the Port from ALL the frost giants! [He crows as the frost giant falls, body smashing to ice as it hits the ground. Loki's smile is wide, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed]

Pickles! They will sing your praises in Valhalla and the Hall of the Dead! I will do all of the cocaine!

[A gnome dressed as- well, it looks like Robin Hood, but it's really Fandral, moves to the NV and wags a finger at it before turning it off.]

summing_it_up

–Oh, come on...

[The feed flickers, slightly tilted at an angle. Hiccup is standing yards away from in profile from wherever it's recording...

...in the middle of an area that looks dedicated to rocks and rubble of all shapes and sizes. But he's a little preoccupied.]

Good job, Hiccup. You just had to go cut through this way, trip, and lose your rock among all of the others conveniently gathered here. I mean, who leaves piles of rock around anyway?? That doesn't even make sense in the middle of a...a city!

Or maybe it does, depending on what's being done with these buildings– but that's not the point!

[As his hands are thrown up into the air, the feed clearly shows that 1) he has an apple in one hand and B) he has a black eye. Hiccup sighs heavily, smacking a hand against his head in tired frustration. And of course he uses the hand that holds the apple. He winces.]

...No. I can find it. I will! Time willing.

[Unfortunately for him, the ~~rock~~ NV's video function decides to work like a one-way mirror. This will be fun for him.]

saintofstoic

[The voice, recognizably Joan's to those who know her or who care to remember voices, is all business.]

I know of other clones within the city. Is there any sort of assistance set up for them? A charity or such?

[The voices pauses there a moment, then comes back in a low and soft tone. She doesn't sound like one on the verge of tears. It's a distinct note of regret, though not harsh or pronounced.]

I'm afraid I don't know much about this city still, it's newcomers or it's charities. I have been negligent and selfish in that regard.

drinkthebleach

[It's Pickles the Drummer from Dethklok, and he's being fucking festive right now, wearing a green T-shirt and his dreads pulled back underneath a darker green beanie. The bruises from the fight with AGI have even faded, by now (much to his appreciation)—they’re more of a pallid corpse yellow as opposed to that obnoxious purplish-black. He lights a cigarette with one hand and leans back.]

Okay. Everybody knows holidays suck an’ there's no point to any of them. There's only like, two that even matter: [Counting them off on his fingers.] New Year's Eve, an' this one right here. An' I know there's gonna be at least five or six culture-shocked dildos makin' videos askin' 'bout the green an' what's goin' on an' all that crap, which gets really annoying, after a while. I'm just gonna lay it all out for you right now. Saint Patrick was this dude a really long time ago that cleared all the snakes outta Ireland—that was important for some reason, I dunno. So now we all celebrate him by listenin' to depressin' folk music in bars an' drinkin' a crap ton of booze in one night. Everyone gets involved: even non-Irish dudes wear green an' get drunk. S' all about gettin' totally hammered, 'cause throwin' up is supposed to be symbolic of spiritual renewal, or whatever.

Big surprise, yer gonna see me passed out before eleven, tonight. An' then I'm doin' a total overhaul of my fuckin' life over here. So all this shit you see? [He tilts forward to take control of the NV again and swivel it around the room.] S' for sale. I’m leavin' this dump in the dust, an' I don’t wanna take anythin' bigger than a duffel bag with me. S' just the way I move.

[A long, almost contemplative drag, which he traps in his lungs for a couple seconds and then exhales through his nostrils.] Anyone need a TV? A chair, or whatever? I got a side table that has this little mirror-thing that comes out—I'll sell it to anyone that wants to do some coke.

If none of that interests you, I'm also givin' this up:

[Pickles sets his cigarette down somewhere off-screen (presumably in an ash tray) and reaches for an electric guitar. He brandishes it by the neck for everyone to see (and looks like Christmas in the process, with the cherry red instrument standing against his shirt).] This is a JS22R Dinky. S' not a Gibson, but s' not that shitty, neither. Chrome bridge. Heavy tone. Humbucking pick-ups, y'know. Round near the nut so you can finger the thing pretty good.

'S all yers—y'know. If you don't mind the fact that the dude that had it before died in a fire. I even thought 'bout burnin' his guitar too, I dunno. That's what I'm gonna do with whatever doesn't sell--I'm just gonna light it all on fuckin' fire, probably. Give it a viking funeral. I just figured waste not, want not, y'know? An' I could use the extra cash.

So yeah. [He lifts his eyebrows at the NV.] You gonna help me out, friends?

manicpixiedreamgirl

[Brace yourself, Siren’s Port. Alice is coming.

Alice here being a petite, pretty, impossibly pale girl with short black hair. She looks entirely too happy given the time of day.]

Hi everyone! [Alice gives the camera an impossibly cheery wave. Be more cute, Alice.] I’m Alice Cullen, and I’m a vampire. Apparently that’s not a secret thing here, so...that makes my life is easier, yay.

[Okay, srs time is now.]

I’m actually kind of different from a lot of other vampires, in that I only drink animal blood. Buuuuut...[She makes a face, like someone’s just waved something disgusting under her nose.] it really needs to be fresh. Like, I just caught that mountain lion by myself five minutes ago fresh. So, if there’s a place where I can catch wild game, I’d really appreciate some information. And if that’s not possible, is there a butcher that can get it fresh from?

And if you’re still watching after all that, I’m looking for some work. I’ve got degrees on degrees on degrees, so I’m probably qualified for anything you throw at me. I’m very good with stocks and finances. I’m an expert event planner, as well as a clothing designer and stylist. [She slows down to think for a moment. Well, for her. To the people watching, she’s barely taking a breath.] I love working with people! I’ve never done it, but I think I’d make a great sales person.

[Finally, she stops talking a mile a minute. She looks incredibly pleased with herself, convinced she’s made a good impression.]

So that’s me in a nutshell, I guess.

[OOC: Also, here's a little permissions form regarding your character and Alice's visions. I'd really appreciate if you could fill one out.]