sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: jack vessalius

[As the NV's video feed comes on everyone is going to be treated to the sight of a rather motherly or rather grandmotherly woman with a small calm smile tugging on her lips. It's obviously she's been asking questions about this place. The NV is set up away from her to show her sitting in a hospital bed, there is a faint beep here and there from a machine near at hand.]

Some of you have been most welcoming and helpful and I am grateful for your assistance - like the young men from the field that found me.

[But some of you, well you've certainly made her wonder if you were ever taught proper manners at all. Especially after seeing all the graffiti and the posts about newcomers in the network. But she brushes that aside without commenting on it - picking your battles was key.]

I'm aware that there are some of you out there who are from where I call home. I would be happy to see or hear from those I know or could be bearing news of such persons.

[She pauses glancing to the door before giving an amused little chuckle.]

I should be going the nurses were rather insistent that I not overdo anything. Something about a concussion needed observation and rest.

[Just before the feed stops the door opens and a nurse is there smiling brightly and though her words are scolding there’s a playful teasing tone the belied her words.]

“Mrs. Rainsworth, what did I tell you about resting?”

“Oh come now, dear, can’t fault an old woman for being a bit curious.”

( I am only passionately curious. (for action posts) )

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.]

likepaleglass

[There's that man again on the screen. That one you can almost smell through the electronics, though that's a complete impossibility. (Lavender today, by the way.) The apartment behind him, obviously Newcomer-standard, is in the beginnings of what will become a fine shambles, dirty dishes piled high in the sink, a banana peel draped elegantly over the edge of a garbage pail, and everywhere books -- books upon books and scraps of metal and odds and ends that aren't even quite identifiable. In the midst of it, Howl is impeccably clean and groomed as always, with not even a wrinkle.]

An introduction seems in order. I am the Wizard Howl Pendragon, conjuror and constructor of magical artifacts, creator of curses, cantrips, and charms from the large to the small in scale. Need to win a duel or your worst enemy's hair to fall out? Find me. In need of your one-bedroom flat to become a 5-bedroom palatable estate? Call upon me. Fees are negotiable.

[A release of breath, and he nudges back his hair.] I usually rely on word of mouth, but considering the circumstances, it seems I am my primary advertiser.

[A pause.]

I'd also like to know more about this Core -- and its record. The library hasn't been as helpful as I would like.

whitefeathered

So . . . if you work for the companies, are you going to do what they say?

( Locked to Ahiru, Gilbert, Kaito, and probably Joe. )

jokesonthem

[So, there was that horror movie marathon the other night? And Reim was tricked into attending. He had never seen a horror movie before this incident, and he never wants to see one again.]

Are these "horror films" really supposed to be entertaining? They're so [.....] troubling. What a strange custom...

[Inside he is weeping.]

How would one go about forgetting ever seeing any?

[That's exactly what he means, but it sounds so lame ugh!! So:]

That is to say, perhaps there are less disturbing customs with which to occupy one's time...?

reassures

[The first thing you see is a white haired boy with red eyes in a sharp black suit. He shakes his head and sits back.] Ok, now important thing to remember. These shades operate based on thought. So don't go turning-

[His brows come down as he sighs.] No, no. Think text function, and it will kick over to translating your thoughts into words.

[He steps out of view before it clicks over.]

see like that
lets get this ready to go
floors yours

[The person Dave is talking to isn't apparent at first; they don't reply verbally while he's speaking, and a few moments after the video feed switches off, more text appears.]

like this? oh!

is it connected? the network

it needs to go there

fyi third person is not the way to go
its connected to the network
just keep going

what?

[She doesn't really get it, but instead of waiting, she posts the pictures she took of the monster that's been attacking people, but the most important one is this one.]

( heartless picture under the cut )

this thing is what's been attacking people. It attacked me, and I think it might have killed Ino. I dont know who else has been attacked.

Guns dont work on it. knives don't work on it. Im not sure what does. it was so fast

If you see it you need to escape

if you have any information about it
dont talk about it on here
come see us face to face
because crazy idea here
it might be someone on the network thats behind this and anyone can see this info
seems really dumb to blather it all out on here

((ooc; Both Dave and Nill will be replying to people!))

edge_of_nothing

[Hello, Network. We meet again. Actually, no, the tone of this doesn't feel as pleasant as it could have been, but...well. This is Xemnas. The feed shows him leaning against his desk, casually grim in the last moments of light the large windows let in before Darkness sets over the city.]

Greetings, Siren's Port. I assume everything has been going well for each and every one of you. If not, then...perhaps that may change. Do remember that we, the Xino E. Mao corporation, are here to reach out to our communities here in the city. We are willing to listen, and we are willing to assist you.

[Although languid and professional, he doesn't sound very pleased.]

Speaking of listening...there is a related matter I would like to discuss. Within the past few days, news regarding our corporation and its contribution to a well-known holiday has been wildly circulating over the network. Many of you may have received an invitation.

To some sort of..."party."

[The video angle sinks a little as Xemnas casts a subtle look directly at the culprit recording this message, a sheepish chrr and a digitized garbled noise voicing itself over the image.

After the pause, the Nobody raises both arms to either side of him, gesturing freely.]

...It is no mistake.

We will be hosting a masquerade ball. It will be our little contribution for this Hallowed night and its festivities.

[In the dimming light, he smiles.]

And you, of course, are more than welcome to join us.

[~~...Oh Kingdom Hearts, who is this man.~~ Here, the feed ends.]

[[OOC: Notes are here!!]]