sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: lucifer

(( 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.]

wordaday

[On camera is a shaken, upset blond woman. She looks as if she’s just got out of the shower, and scrubbed to hell and back. She’s trying desperately to keep the camera above her shoulders, though her bra straps show from time to time.]

Hi. Ah…I’m Sookie. They told me down at the field that this is Canada?

[For a moment, her eyes dart nervously to something off screen, and she swallows.]

I know this is gonna be a huge favor, but I really need some clothes. Just a shirt and pants. I’m sorta...up a creek right now. I’ll pay you right back the second I can, I promise.

[She straightens up a little in her seat, trying to not look so pitiful. She’s moderately successful.]

I’d really appreciate it.

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?

in_starvation

( cut for some True Blood spoilers! )

askedtobe

[ Anonymous and untraceable, Peter has a question. ]

If you had the option to give someone back their past, would you? Even at a detriment to yourself?

paterelohim

[Chuck looks, in a word, busted. His face is tense and stressed, gelled hair messy from the wind. When he backs away from the NV it's obvious that he's posting from the top of a cliff, and seemingly hasn't noticed that it's almost time for evening sirens. He looks down solemnly, unsure how to make his announcement.]

As of Wednesday, Anna Milton is dead. [He killed her. His hands twist his shirt nervously.] If you were in Sector Four that day and saw a weird flash of bright white light- that was her.

[The smallest tense sigh.]

She's gone, and if there's any mercy left here, she won't come back the way she was. Fred hasn't come back, either, and they're far from the only ones.

[He takes a deep breath and then, a little unusually for him, looks up and right into the camera, silhouetted by the last rays of sunset.]

And there's something I think I need to say. A lot of people wonder what the point is to being here- between this much loss, so many comings and goings, and the constant knowledge that going home means forgetting the Port, you wonder if there's even a point to being here- to trying. Why does it matter, you think, if nothing here changes what happens at home.

[Chuck is making a speech here, but it has an almost pleading note. It's as genuine as it is personal.]

But if you've been here for more than a week, if you've met a single other person here and told them your name, then you've done something. If you've made a friend here or an enemy or looked someone in the eye and told them a truth you didn't think you knew, then you've done something. Maybe the epiphany you had or the feelings you expressed don't last when you go home, but the person you connected with- they'll remember. Even if you vanish tomorrow, you left a mark behind.

I lost people this week who are really important to me- one person from home who needed a second chance, and an amazing woman from a world I'll never get to see. If she comes back she might not know me- I'll never see that version of her again. That doesn't invalidate the year she spent here. It happened, and it matters, partly because she made a difference to everyone she met. She wasn't afraid to really live here.

[He falls silent for a moment, looking out over the cliff-side at the setting sun. It's getting hard to see him now in the twilight.]

Everyone you meet here is in the same boat you are. If you keep losing people here or you learn things about your future you wish you didn't know... Whether you're getting a second chance or if you're someone else's second chance- whatever the case may be, you owe it to the people around you and to yourself to try and do something with it.

Because even if you get sent home and you forget, the one thing you will never be... is forgotten.

aslandish

[ Months have passed since he last addressed the network, and though he himself is well, there are things that trouble him. Today, there is no joyous song for the morning, but rather a solemn address. ]

The worlds are ever-changing. Conflicts arise when choices are made.

Without temperance, there is much to be lost and little to be gained.

Guard yourselves, and be mindful in all things.

[ooc: Permissions post is here! As always, anyone with the ability to sense who and what he is, feel free to do so! ]

momchester

[Counter to her last post, Mary is calm, composed, put-together, an iron look of determination in her eyes.]

If you've called someone and gotten their voicemail in the past three days, you need to comment here and tell me who it was.

I don't care if you think they got sent home, if they have an alibi, if they're supposed to be on a week-long vision quest, I don't care. If there's someone, anyone who you can't get ahold of and isn't absolutely definitely accounted for-

[Mary stops, folds, unfolds her hands. When her sleeve pulls back slightly, you can see a pair of handcuffs around one wrist.]

There might be another Hunt going on. We have to figure out now how many people are missing. Rationalizing where they might be, telling yourself it's not a big deal- forget that. We don't have time to second-guess.

I'm starting the list with Yosuke, Bigby Wolf, and Jesse Turner.

[Her hands are shaking a little. She grits her teeth slightly.]

Michael, everyone from last time- if you know where the grounds are, please. We need to stop this.

hellsadogfight

[The feed clicks on and a scraggly looking kid is all just about glaring at the screen. He's still in the bloody clothes he arrived in. He looks pretty broken, but alive. Very much alive.] Fuck this place, and fuck being stuck here. Look, I don't know how things are done 'round where y'all are from, but in Louisiana, shit happens when you up and fuckin' kidnap someone.

Second chance, my ass. Let me fuckin' die in peace. If I wanted to live, I could'a taken that vampire blood. [Tommy scowls before he shoves his fist into the near by wall.] This whole god damn situation...

[His jaw clenches and he looks away for a moment. A sigh. There's half a chance Sam's here, but he wouldn't be that lucky.] Any chance anyone is from Bon Temps? Sam Merlotte, if this was you, I swear to God...

[Not that he's any calmer, he's still seething, but at least he's... attempting civility.] Right, well I'm Tommy Mickens, if any'a ya care.

servingfather

[There's a dark-haired woman who may or may not be familiar to some sitting in Mary's living room. One archangel has been drafted Mary's ~~babysitter~~ bodyguard and Michael tends to hang around the Winchester mama as a woman. In "Mikaela's" lap is a thick book which she seems almost done with.]

The locals have gotten a little ansty lately to pull this latest stunt, honestly I'm not all that surprised. Humanity has been at odds with itself for a long time. It's a bit...sad to see.

[She closes the book and puts it onto a nearby coffee table.]

To all of the new arrivals, welcome to Canada. Best get inside before the sirens go off.

[Private to the victims of the Newcomer Hunt]

I'm a friend of Mary's and I'd like to offer my services in your time of need. My powers allow me to take away the pain without removing the damage for any who might want to go to the police and have evidence to show for it. I can also heal any injury to appear like it never happened, which is an offer that will remain open indefinitely. You can request for me to heal you of your injuries at any time you wish and you can also request to what extent you want done.

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.

paterelohim

[Chuck, to put it delicately- he looks like shit. Warmed-over horse manure. Pale, sweating, shaking, lips chapped, breathing a little labored- he's obviously extremely sick. Despite this, he isn't in a hospital, but his own home. And despite this, he rubs his hands together, licks his lips, and manages to look a little lively.]

Okay, so- [Hold on, coughing.] I've been thinking.

[He backs off a little, revealing something shocking: he's in the wheelchair he was in for three months, that he hasn't touched in almost eight. It's a hover-chair, as some might remember- hovering two feet off the ground. There's an IV drip attached to it, hooked to Chuck's arm.]

I mean... we're all pretty much sick now. People are dying. It's awful. But you know, I think one of the worst things about plagues - [ha ha another horrible, hacking, rough coughing fit!] - fuck, is- the emotional aspect of it, you know? The isolation.

Millions of people died in Europe, but I bet almost none of them wanted to talk about it. Why... why would they. Everyone was suffering the same. Nobody wanted to just whine. But that doesn't mean that all the things bothering us just go away. We don't just lose our albatrosses because we got sick.

They say stress can affect your body. Being stressed or alone can make you die younger.

[You see, Chuck knows what the plague is. Thanks to an extremely helpful angel, he knows how to cure it. He knows He can cure it. It's not like He even has a choice about this- it's more like a calling. An obligation. There has to be a reason He went from healthy to throwing up and passing out within six hours, right? Clearly, Chuck has some shit He feels guilty about. And if there was ever a time to let loose some of that walled-up Power... it'd be now.

After all, they say only God can forgive.]

Maybe it's not the way to go. Maybe one way to help get through this is to not wall ourselves off like that- you know?

I mean, whatever happens... there aren't any new experiences or. or original thoughts. Whatever's tormenting you, there's someone out here who gets it.

There's always someone who can understand.

shifting

[shaky video at first. Sam's voice seems in the background for a moment, but it's quickly choked off with dry-heaving. The video tilts down sharply from a plaid-covered chest to bare feet, and soon after a pile of clothes. A dog lies down on them a moment later, curled up and whining softly.

The feed runs out.]

((open to anyone who wants to drop in - Sam finally caught the oubreak))

corks

[Well, would you look at that, people of Siren's Port. Looks like Lucifer has gone out and decided to talk to you all. It has to be the devil, I mean, he looks exactly like him, right down to those bright blue eyes that just stare at the screen for a while, as if he can somehow see the people on the other side of the NV.]

How interesting.

[He smiles, slightly, but this isn't a smile that is full of condescension towards the people he's addressing. It's...calm. And even amiable, in a way.]

So many people in one place, so many stories, so many tragedies and hopes colliding with one another. And so many flaws. But this is to be expected. Everyone is flawed...

[Okay, really, if this is really Lucifer, he's acting a bit too...interested. Too serene. Even though his stance and words might seem very similar to words that the devil might say, there's something off. ]

[A pause, and then he nods, tilting his head ever so gently in curiosity.]

Tell me, people of Siren's Port. Why do you think you have been brought here? Are you serving a purpose for this Core, or do you think you're merely a fluke, a random choice made that took you from your home and placed you here?

...Is it your fate that led you right to this very city? Or do you believe that the wheels of fate do not turn for you at all?

[ooc: Once again, please please please fill out Jacob's permission form if you could about his god-like powers and how they apply to your character and such. I'd hate to step on anyone's toes while tagging around, so thank you muchly!]

whycantistay

So coming back from home again, I've been thinking more about what I should be doing here. While I'm really focused on helping more people with the hotel -- which if anyone who is new needs a place, we still have plenty of rooms, I'd also like to get more involved with the science community.

Speaking of, McCoy, I have your samples.

Basically I've a paper written in physics journals and was the head of the science department of a local firm. My skills are mainly in math and physics, but I'd like to get more involved. I can put together a resume with my schooling and work experience. 

I've also dealt with magic, well at least those spells founded in energy and physics. You'd be surprised what you're capable of when you tap into other things.

Any information would be appreciated.

bigandbad

[and here's one bedraggled-looking wolf - standing outside his apartment, because inside is a forensics team and two homicide detectives. ...Oh yeah, and the body of John Winchester.

Still, he tries to sound more somber than haggard, out of respect.]

I regret to inform you all that John Winchester has died. I can't release any details yet, but I assure you there's a full team of the SPPD's finest looking into the matter. [but not him this time. They don't let roommates look into the death of their own roommate.]

Mr. Winchester's relations are encouraged to come by the apartment to speak with detectives. [and the police chaplain.] If they're unable to come by, they can contact the precinct.

socius

--No I don't want your stupid pamphlet. You think I don't know everything about religion already? --Any religion? Buzz off.

[Saints be held. Was that the voice of a graceful ginger? Surely not!] I said buzz off! [With the sound of a rather large electrical boom, it apparently was.]

Goddamn idiot. [Petulant child alert. What ever could be the matter with her? Wasn't Anna supposed to be the docile, nice one of the family?]

unluckyinlove

[Jinx looks excited. So excited that she might explode if she doesn't tell anyone and everyone why. Meanwhile, Gabriel is in the background, leaning against a wall and looking like the cat who ate the canary. Oh, he's smug.]

I have an announcement-- [She stops herself and looks back at Gabriel, her grin only getting bigger.] We have an announcement to make. Last night, Gabriel proposed to me...

[She shows off her left hand and has to contain a squeal. What the audience should be turning their attention toward is her recently acquired fashion statement.] I said yes!

[As if everyone in the Port is too dumb to put two and two together, she just has to add:] We're getting married!

[From the peanut gallery:] Never let it be said that I didn't make an honest woman out of her. [A beat.] ...Well, sorta.

ofthursday

[When Castiel comes onto the screen, he looks... Disheveled. More so than his usual messy tie and fluffy hair; really disheveled, like a few extra buttons are undone on his shirt and he's missing his coat. Also he may be sprinkled in a large amount of gold and green glitter.

He doesn't seem impressed with life at the moment.]

What is appropriate retaliation against a friend who insists upon irritating you overtly and needlessly?

Unfortunately, I am aware that true physical harm is an overreaction, no matter how tempting.