sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: ellen harvelle

(( Red for John, blue for Mary! ))

[Mary comes on screen looking flustered and extremely alarmed, hair mussed and all over the place, cheeks red. She's tying a bathrobe tighter over a T-shirt.]

That's it. I've had it. [So much flustered outrage!] I'm done.

[John leans into frame, looking more than a little perturbed. His shirt is buttoned wrong and he totally does NOT have sex hair. No sir.]

I could deal with this "machines gone crazy" bullshit until-

[Mary interrupts uncharacteristically.]

Toasters and NVs are one thing, but THIS is-

-It's pretty fucked-up. [John is a bit calmer, if still mildly traumatized-looking.

Mary fitfully pulls her bathrobe shut tighter and launches into what appears to be the start of a rant.]

We don't have enough on our minds, that we have to be afraid of-

[Fin. Someone (John) had the sense to shut it off.]

doctor_mccoy

[Hi port. McCoy's going to yell again. He has that sort of pissed off, scrunched up look that leaves the vein in his forehead visible.

Or he has already been yelling and this is just the cool down, it's hard to tell.]

You know what I'd like? I'd like one goddamn day where something doesn't try to devour, maul, dismember, or vomit some sort of virulent substance on me. I don't know how folks around here keep just shrugging their shoulders, and if I hear one more "Oh well isn't that strange?" Like they're looking at a goddamn two headed goat instead of a man eating toaster I'm going to lose my shit.

[He rubs his forehead and drops his chin in his palm.]

You all might as well come in for your tetanus shots while it's Maxim Overdrive month here in crazy town.

swedge

[You'll have to excuse the way the camera shakes slightly as it starts up. You'll also have to excuse the way the girl who is on the screen seems moments away from either dying or ripping someone's heart out. She hasn't really decided yet, though the latter would probably be best.]

Never been to Canada before, but this wasn't really what I was- ahh... expecting.

[Jo winces slightly, her free hand cupping a bandage along her side. Not that it's very obvious, with the way the lighting seems to fall and the darkness that seems to be creeping in, but Jo isn't really in the best state of being. Her clothes are ripped, bloody, and blood seems to be soaking through just about everything.

She really shouldn't be standing, but you can thank willpower for that one.]

If what those guys said was true... [She looks off in the distance for a moment, taking a shakey breath before turning back.] I'm looking for a woman, my mother. I was with her before this piece of shi- [A hiss, and then another breath.] Before I came here. Those guys at the field, they said I could use this to contact her.

[Jo's expression lightens for a moment, her voice soft.] Mom? [But then she shakes her head, pulling herself out of it.]

I was with some other people too, but I don’t know if they would have mad- [She’s cut off by the sound of sirens, pulling her attention away from the video. She looks confused, worried for a moment, before turning back to the camera again. Jo winces again just because turning and looking around is too much strain on the fact she's basically falling apart - thanks convenient store bandages.]

Guess that's it.

[When the feed cuts Jo's looking off in the distance again, trying to figure out what is going on with the sirens and getting a nice little feeling that it's not good.]

mouthbreathing

[Today Warsman’s mask seems a little less oblique; something about the way the light falls across its smooth planes is softer, something in the tilt of his head gently curious in an almost catlike or avian way. With his usual self-consciousness in tow the effect is intensely earnest.

As he sits back he toys with a worn balalaika sat in his lap, strumming it absently as he speaks; one might recognise the opening bars of Lara’s theme.]

I don't know how many of you came to watch the qualifiers at the weekend, but I made it through to the Siren’s Port City Slamfest quarter-finals.

[Both he and his playing falter for a moment- he’s not really supposed to say anything on the matter until Wednesday night, once it’s officially aired, but he’s not quite in the mood for complying.]

I’ve been told I need walk-on music for my matches. I’ve never bothered in the past, or if I have, Robin Ma-- my coach arranged it. I’m not sure what sort of thing I should choose- but the producers have told me that they’ll use this one for me if I can't decide.

[He’s cringing a little as he stops playing to tap something in and hits play. It’s not that he’s not comfortable with his robot side being so freely advertised- he’s always been and always will be the Fighting Computer in the ring, and it’s a title he’s come to be proud of in his own way- but they don’t have to be so embarrassingly blunt about it. It seems almost crass.

Perhaps a little hastily he turns the music off and strums out a little more of Lara’s theme, as if as an antidote.]

Does anyone have any suggestions? I only know a little music up to around 1984.

servingmichael

[The video opens with Raphael - in a crisp, clean suit - in a wing back chair. He's sitting perfectly, body still, face almost blank. There's a moment were it's not clear if he's even breathing, and when he speaks, it's even more scrubbed clean of emotion.]

Siren's Port. I've recently arrived although I've been here several days now.

I do not need an introduction to the island, I've received it.

[The other angels and God figures can likely guess what has prompted Raphael to address the island.]

For those who knew Michael, he is no longer in the Port. I'm Raphael, one of his brothers. I will be taking over his affairs.

[SPN Cast Filter]

Michael informed me of the arrangement here. I see no reason to pick up hostiles.

[Even now, there is barely anything. No clench of a jaw, no tightening around his eyes. No inflection in his voice.]

[End]

[Gabriel filter]

You've been here the longest, I was told. Is there information I may need?

[There's only the hint of anything as he addresses Gabriel - his jaw tightens, just enough to be noticed. Still, his voice is flat.]

[End]

[Lucifer]

We should talk.

[Nothing. Absolutely nothing.]

[End]

comeshonesty

[ the video reveals an older man, thin nearly to the point of being skeletal, dressed sharply in a black suit and with his black hair slicked back. he's sitting neatly on a bench somewhere under a street-light, surrounded by the darkness. he seems comfortable enough with it, though-- it suits him.

there's a silver-headed cane propped against the bench beside him, a drink in a paper cup next to his thigh, and he's balling up the foil from what looks to have been some kind of chili-dog. there's no telling how his device is propped up, because it simply seems to be hovering in the air.

he finally glances up at it, black eyes strange and somehow terrifying despite his relatively harmless appearance and mild expression. long fingers curl around the cup and he takes a sip through the straw before seeming to settle on what he wants to say, his words deliberate and tone even, hinting at no particular emotion beyond perhaps the faintest trace of annoyance. ]

Well. So much for the star that I was rather occupied with. How is it I wind up on this dismal little planet so often.

[ he licks his thumb, setting aside the foil. ]

I suppose I could blame it on a certain significant other--[ chuck, he's looking at you. 8| ]--being rather himself. Or the Winchesters, perhaps, given their remarkable lack of self-preservation as a family. Or the little winged children bickering so much.

[ a pause, gaze lifting again, intense and disturbing. ]

Well. Shall we all coexist peacefully, then, or will I need to turn someone over my knee?

mouthbreathing

[For the first time since his arrival, Warsman switches the device over to video mode- he’s been in the Port for a good while now and knows enough people that keeping his appearance private seems pointless, particularly given the reason for posting the message. He’s acting in a professional capacity in a way, as a choujin and a wrestler, rather than a personal one.

He sits calmly and without any obvious trace of self-consciousness in the weights room of the gym, perched on the rowing machine and watching the camera with the look of blank intensity seemingly inherent in his mask- one of the few perks of constantly hiding his face, because the truth is that he feels incredibly conspicuous. A towel has been slung around his neck and the bulk of his shoulders, which gleam faintly with a gloss of sweat. Behind him one can just about see and hear the usual hustle and bustle of gym regulars.

The sound of his own voice- mechanical, almost electronic- does not surprise him anymore, but he is nonetheless very aware of it when he starts to speak. It gives him away.]

On Friday I’ll be up against a Port fighter at the Knot-A Fight club, on the edge of sectors eight and eleven. My first scheduled fight.

[He pauses for a moment, choosing his words. What he’d like to do is ask for support- it’s unlikely that he’ll have much of a turnout under the circumstances- but it seems crass and irrelevant somehow. He didn’t need anyone cheering for him when he started out back in Leningrad so it shouldn’t be any different here now that he’s (un?)officially a rookie again, yet he’s become accustomed to having someone watching. Someone in his corner.]

Look for The Warsman versus Dwayne Perry. It should be an interesting match: I haven't had much of a chance to seriously try out the fighters here, so I'm curious to see how much of a challenge they pose. I'm not sure how much the local crowd will appreciate a Newcomer victory right now, but... [another awkward pause- it's not just the delicacy of the situation, he's starting to feel shy] That's... all.

[And with that he switches the feed off. He’s not particularly expecting much in the way of a response, and he’s got a shower to take.]

in_a_dark_wood

With all these murders and Newcomer hunts....shit...

[The sound of him scratching his head]

It's like there's no end to the constant crap here. I'd say we should all have a party and blow off some steam but last time we did that they found ways to complain about it.

I guess what I'm sayin' is....Damn...

[A sigh]

Just try to keep tabs on each other, okay? Stay strong and stuff. I'm not too good at these pep talks.

[A long pause]

And...uhm...Unrelated, but does anyone know how a guy can get some quick cash around here? For his own place? I tried looking into jobs but people aren't too hot for us Newcomers lately.

mulletrock

[Dean's showing a different side of himself to the Port today with his charm full on in effect and no beer in his hand or irritated look on his face.

He's not usually on the network, and stays in his own circle but after a while of living off of hustling and bets on the side he's finally figured out if he wants perks he actually needs to get a job.]

Hey. My name is Dean Winchester, I don't make an appearance on this thing very often but I've been here for a few months and I've got the greeter gig so I might've run into some of you on the field once or twice before.

I'm lookin' for work. Somethin' that'll help me bring in the groceries and get somethin' nice for my apartment.

Let me know if you've got any positions available and we'll get t'know each other better.

[Dean goes to turn off his NV but winds up putting it on holo. You can see him sit down to eat some late night tacos and watch him fold his laundry. He starts in on cleaning his guns when he sees the light still blinking.]

-- How the hell?

[He picks up his phone and flips it open and closed a few times.]

Friggin' piece of crap.

[The rifling and attempts to turn it off go on for a few more minutes before the screen goes dark.]

Why couldn't this place leave my phone the way it was?

[The audio disconnects and the feed is completely gone.]

ofthursday

[Castiel, for those that were a part of the raid on the hunting grounds, seems no worse for the wear after having been shot several times. He also has been acting somewhat innocent, arguing with some people on the network about the morality of prosecuting those involved, but not admitting his own involvement even if he's pretty sure it will come out.

Some of the discussions have prompted his curiosity though, and so he addresses the network in the calm, interested tone of someone who's seen this all before, which ties into his question.]

How many here have witnessed an uprising in their world, or a revolution? How many have been a part of one?

If you are willing to share your stories, what happened?

( [Filtered to Lucifer] )

( [Filtered to Magneto] )

( [Filtered to Sam Winchester] )

( [Filtered to Dean Winchester] )

upstairsbrain

[ Hello, world. Finally, the mop-headed lumberjack makes a visual appearance over the network. ]

Uh... hey. [ There's a tired smile. ] I'm Sam Winchester, I... showed up here pretty recently. I know I've been here before, but I don't remember any of it. Sorry if that ends up being a problem. But, if I knew you before, let me know, and we can get re-acquainted. In the meantime, I guess I'll be looking for a job.

[ And some answers, but that's beside the point. ]

wingedcrown

it's been almost two months since I showed up. not a lot of time, I know, but I'm finally feeling caged in around here for some reason. maybe it's the heat or something but I feel like I need to go somewhere...but I don't know where that is. and it's not like I can snap my fingers and go on a vacation in the bahamas or anything, either.

wonder if anyone has that kind of power. that'd be cool.

[Oops, off topic.]

sorry, not the point. I was wondering if anyone'd like to go out for drinks or dancing or something. I'm way too antsy in this apartment these days, even with a job.

[Ten minutes later, the message is edited.]

does anyone know how to take care of a cat? a big cat. very big.

upstairsbrain

[ Hello, world. Meet new arrival, Sam Winchester. But you might not know that it's him, because he's not showing his face yet, and: ]

This is Agent Murdock. [ He clears his throat, pausing a moment. ] If anyone's out there, and can hear me, or needs help... just let me know. I'm sort of at a loss, here, and I'd like some information. If this thing is even working, that is.

[ He's confident in his tech abilities, but something's definitely up with his phone. ]

... Thanks.

therightchoice

[ There is a buzz, a crackle.

And then, a young boy's voice, confused but steady. ]

Hello? Mom?

[ There's some mumbling, of somebody talking to him. There's a muttered "Oh," and the call is hanged up.

An hour later, Jesse Turner tries again. ]

Hi. I'm Jesse. I thought I was supposed to be somewhere else, but I'm in Canada now. I hear a lot of people got here this way.

It's the aliens, isn't it? They kidnapped us, right? What they want? And why Canada?

~~ooc: and I am such an idiot for not realizing this sooner, but Jesse has arrived during the afternoon. Oops.~~

actually forget that this is after sirens when he broadcasted this.

this is a moment of Devi's Brain Farts.

momchester

[Mary looks... well, alive, which is a bonus, but also frazzled and exhausted, with pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, lips chapped, hair falling out of her ponytail.

But more than that, she looks haunted.]

I'm back. I'm alive. [Her lips press together in a thin line. She bows her head and talks to her knees.] No thanks to those monsters.

I don't know if anyone else made it out... there were no- [sniffing hard to avoid tearing up.] -shelters. Nothing Darkness proofed. [Head still bowed tightly.] I don't know if any of those people I fought with made it out alive, but if they didn't, I'm going to tell you all right now.

[She finally looks up, eyes welling now with tears she refuses to cry.]

They hunted us. They bound us, put collars on us, they put us in cages. They chased us and hunted us down like we were fucking dogs and we couldn't-

[she claps a hand over her mouth, breathing hard to rein in her emotions. When she opens her eyes again, there's something chilling and deadened in her eyes.]

When I died at home- the first time, before I came here... it was a demon. A demon pinned me to the ceiling and burned me alive in my baby's nursery, and I didn't feel as violated as I did those two days. In that cage. [She shakes her head intently, looking away.] Those monsters kidnapped children. They wanted to see every one of us die like dumb fucking animals.

I wonder what would happen if I prayed for them. [There's a weird look in her eyes. Something you wouldn't leave your children alone with.] It's the Christian thing to do.

Would I get their souls into Heaven, or their heads on a plate?

[With a last ugly look at the NV, she turns the ~~public~~ feed off.]

[Private to Jinx]

I found a plus one.

[Private to the angels]

Did you hear my prayer? [The one she whispered as she lay dying.] Please, tell me none of you- tell me you didn't go there. Please.

failedparenting

[John's never really been a fan of Father's Day. However, the very pointed recent absence of one child, and cake from a girl who isn't even his daughter has John unusually chatty and pensive about this whole thing.]

never really got the idea of father's day. what's the point of taking one day to thank your father when you should be taking every day? then there's the assholes who don't deserve it at all.

[The problem here is he's not sure which camp he actually belongs in.]

anyway, happy father's day.

unluckyinlove

[Jinx looks...pretty good, actually. Probably has something to do with her hair stylist, a trip to the spa, a chemical peel, and a pound of makeup. In your face, plague.]

Listen up, zombies. Now that we're no longer down with the sickness and we've got a full scale resurrection going on, I've got an announcement.

We chose a date. Friday, July 13th, Gabriel and I will be tying the sacrilegious knot. [A very big grin.] I'll be mailing out invitations this week and I need my entire Purgatory staff working this thing. If you're not there, you're fired. This is gonna be the most important day of my life, so your gift to me is not screwing it up.

On another note, I think some of my staff is dead dead. So, congratulations! Purgatory's hiring again. [Such a smooth and PC transition.] We're a cabaret nightclub looking for talent and servers. If I like you, you'll probably double as both.

Contact me if you're interested. For now, I'm gonna get back to wedding preparations.

failedparenting

[Hey Port, remember that guy who blew his head off a few weeks ago? Well, he's back, and apparently walking briskly away from what looks like a very agitated, pamphlet-waving greeter in the background.

Also his clothes are covered in dried blood, nbd.]

So, two things: how long was I gone, and what the hell happened?

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.

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.]