sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: miles edgeworth

[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))

philosopher

[The voice being recorded is both hushed (out of respect for the speaker's present environment) and weak (for reasons yet to be explained).]

Diane, it's... 6:36 pm on May 17, 2012. By my calculation, that means I've been asleep for... two hundred and seventy-nine months. Twenty-three years have passed since my last recording, Diane, and I have to say: I look pretty great for my age.

The last time I remember speaking to you, it was from the floor of my room at the Great Northern Hotel and I had just been shot. I don't remember a whole lot else, but the doctors tell me I've lost quite a bit of blood so that's to be expected. I feel both frustrated and grateful. Grateful to be alive, and frustrated because the investigation is facing yet another setback.

"Setback" may be an understatement. Diane, you are not going to believe this. As I just told you, it's been twenty-three years. That's twenty-three years in the blink of an eye. They tell me I've traveled through time, and that's apparently a common occurrence around here. Here being the city of Siren's Port, Canada - that's an island off the coast to the west of Vancouver, Diane. Have you ever heard of a place like that? I sure haven't.

The frustrating part is that my ticket was one-way. Preferable, yes, to the other one-way ticket I was facing - but gosh I really felt it. I was on the verge of something. Will I ever know who killed Laura Palmer?

[There's a pause and murmuring in the background, along with the squeaking of a cart being rolled into the room.]

- Ah, more on that later, Diane. Nurse Irene is here.

[Click.]

ace_attorney

It looks like there are more of us coming in again... And some of us leaving, as always. So I'd like to welcome any new Newcomers to Siren's Port. I'm Phoenix Wright, and I'm a defense attorney. Let me assure you all... This place is crazy, but you'll find something to do and some way to make it. If you need assistance, there are people who'll help -- including Wright & Co., if it, um, happens to take an unfortunate turn.

(Well, that's it. But I never really knew how to end speeches... Or rather, someone else usually capped them with a spectacular breakdown or something... Guess I'd better just turn off the feed.)

shifting

Hey - [Sam looks very busy! He's in his office at Merlotte's, gathering up files, folders...] - wanted to let everybody know to come down to Merlotte's tonight, we've got a few stand-up comics hired for the night show and some drink specials. I won't be there though, I've got to meet with some people about gettin' a loan, but I've got someone I used to work with at Club 24 coverin' for me tonight. She's real sweet, so I want ya'll to make her feel welcome, okay? - And don't think this means you can act up in the club; I'll still be back to kick ya'll in the ass tomorrow if you do.

[he grabs his keys, waves at the NV and sets it face-down on his desk. There's a muffled conversation, and soon after a woman picks the NV up and smirks]

...Hey there. I'm Sandra - I'll be watchin' the bar for Sam tonight. Hope to see you all in.

((APRIL FOOLS - with a little help from the devil, Sam's in touch with his feminine side tonight and plans to troll you all. You can respond to this like a post or start an action thread in the club!))

makethemguilty

( Filter to SPPD and Incidentally Lawyercast. )

( Filter to Corporal Mayer; Private )

Current Location: Prosecutor's Office

motioned

how can x equal so many different things isn't it only one letter shouldn't it only be able to be one number too

[Math is hard, her life is difficult, and this was totally worth talking to the network about. Anything to distract her from homework...]

shifting

[Sam is sitting in his chair, tossing a tennis ball between his hands. contemplative. Frustrated.]

Since I've been trainin' hellhound puppies for the past couple weeks, I'd like to talk with everybody 'bout a topic I'm pretty familiar on - dogs and dominance.

Now, this is somethin' about dogs a lot of people think they understand, but really don't. For one thing, a lot of people don't understand how big it is in socialization. It's as important as it is with people, even if people aren't as ready to admit it's important to them too. We like to view everything as bein' equal, and everybody bein' on the same keel.

Well, dogs don't. Dogs like to know where they stand with each other. They like knowin' who's in charge and what's expected of them. Makes 'em feel safe, makes 'em feel secure. So there are dominant dogs and submissive dogs. And just like with people, dominant dogs can be fuckin' jerks about their power once they know they have it. They can use it to bully everybody else in the pack, just like people do with other people. Or they can be aggressive with everybody they meet no matter how they're treated 'cause they're mentally unstable, same with people.

But here's the difference - dogs don't pick fights they don't think they can win. Not the smart and sane ones. ...And right now you're probably rememberin' some time you've seen a tiny dog pick a fight with a doberman, and you're thinkin' I'm full of shit. Except that most times when that happens, that small dog's with their owner. That's a whole different matter - that's knowin' you've got backup, and a way out of the situation if you bite off more'n you can chew. 'Course, there's times a small dog'll run a bigger dog off, and that's got to do with how confident that big dog is in their size. There's times you can gruff your way through a situation on sheer posutrin', but that's a risky game. An' dogs know it. Most times, the moment the other dog proves he's not gonna buy it - which often means bitin' or a physical tussle - the smarter, smaller dog gives the game up. They crouch low and they stay quiet, 'cause it's clear they can't push their way through his situation. They don't crouch with a snarl, they don't roll over with a growl - they just fuckin' crouch low and wait for the situation to defuse. Or they run.

[He catches the ball one last time and leans forward, staring steadily] You know why they do that? Because it's not fuckin' worth it. Pushin' a situation you can't win, mouthin' off and actin' like a smartass when it's just been proved your ass can't handle what you're spoutin' is suicide. You don't challenge a healthy, strong dominant when you're weaker'n they are and you've got no one to dig you out. You just don't do it. You wait 'til they're weak, 'til they're sick, and you know you've got a chance. Challengin' before that is only goin' to tip 'em off and put them on their guard anyhow.

Now, this ain't the same as when you've got somethin' real to guard. When some bear or wolf or whatever comes into a dog's territory and threatens 'em, or their pups, or their people or their pack - that's different. Then a fight might be your only option to keep your people safe. Not always, but sometimes, sure. But when you've got nothin' at stake - when you're just growlin' at someone dangerous 'cause you don't like them, or you don't like what they do or they did, and you don't have the means at the time to do somethin' about it - you aren't protectin'. You're challenging. Which makes it a matter of proving dominance, and which means that 'less you wanna come out of it maimed or dead, you'd better know your weight beforehand.

demon_gent

[A video blips on, a blue sheen covering it as if the grand figure staring intently at the viewer is submerged in water. His eyes are a wide, almost luminescent green, staring, staring with such an intensity it’s almost uncomfortable to watch.

Before one can think to turn the feed off out of creeping fear, the man’s face splits into a mirthful grin. His voice sounding with absolute boyish glee.]

Well, hell-o, hell-o, folks! Brill weather we’re having here, aren’t we?

A little birdie told me this was Canada, shame that. You all must be tucked away in your little igloos, why I bet you've never even been swimming before!

But before I go and offer up any lessons, I need to get my little niche going. So who’s going to tell me a little bit about themselves? I’m Damon Gant, of course, hailing all the wayward down in Los Angeles. A sunny, bright and cheerful place, oh you would probably hate it!

[It's dreadfully drizzly this Sunday morning. He surmises the citizens probably eat and breathe this weather. It seems, however, strangely appropriate that he were to arrive the day after St. Patty's Day, he was after all, the product of most men's hangovers.]

Now, now, step right up, don’t be shy, I promise not to nip. Not even a little bit!

((ooc: I have an OPEN LOG here http://sirenspull-logs.dreamwidth.org/65400.html if you prefer to encounter him on the streets/on the train. ))

Current Music: Léon Boëllmann - Toccata from Suite Gothique

soldierfirst

[A short, simple post pings the Network about an hour before evening sirens.]

It seems that this world is eager to claim a holiday or celebration for every little thing. Is there then one for remembrance of those lost? It is a strange question, I know, but it is sometimes more expedient to simply ask. |

[For anyone who might be out and about this evening, Sephiroth is wandering among the markers at the Newcomer Memorial, giving most of them at least a casual regard but spending the bulk of his time at one or two in particular.]

ex_stakes70

[ At first ,all that's seen is dark. The occasional glint of light shining off of metal occurs, and the singing of the blade as it swings through the air can be heard quite clearly. There's a loud grunt, and a crunching, disgusting squelching sound. Another grunt, the distinct slicing of blade to hard flesh... And then a huge thud. There's a glass spider, laying dead now, in front of the NV. The click of heels on pavement approaches, and the owner of the NV picks it up and her face becomes clear.

There are some scratches, some bruising, and a bit of blood. Her hair is relatively unscathed though slightly more mussed than she would like to have kept it, and she's breathing heavily. The blonde peers curiously, and also with a very determined crease to her brow, into the NV. ]

Huh. [ She looks around for a second, then back to the feed. ] Safe to say I'm not in Manhattan anymore... So. [ There's a small thud as she plops down, sitting on the monster's carcass without much thought to it. She's not on a bloody oozy gooey part. No big deal. ]

What's a girl gotta do to find a decent dry cleaner's around here? [ Yep. Her clothes are all gross now and that's what matters. ] – And for that matter, some shoe-shine. I think some guts spattered on my -- my boots! Ooh, if I could kill another one of those I'd – do it... without my shoes on. [ Weird to say. ] – Okay, so, dry cleaning, good leather polish, and maybe a half-decent place to crash. Preferably fluffy bed? But a semi-squishy couch'll work in a pinch. Don't wanna get all cozy with the natives, cuddle-uppy and monster-vulnerable. And I am in serious need of a de-insomniatic napping attempt. Appreciate the neat phone-doohickey though! Nifty high-techish stuff. Way more expensive-looking than anything I had back home.

[ Wait. FOCUS. Focus, stop being distracted by shiny and new. ]

Soooooo… Anybody? Listening ears, big plus.

preciouspearl

[One failed attempt. The screen is black for the first few seconds until whoever is holding the NV moves her fingers off the camera lens. Then, it shows pavement; the person recording is obviously not used to handling this device yet. It will be another second or two until the video clicks off abruptly. It seems like a wrong button was pressed.]

[Then a minute later, from the same device, a second video post pops up on the network. It's a child - a girl, perhaps, of around ten years of age. Her voice is quiet and shaky, and she is very obviously nervous... ]

[... and very strange-looking. Her hair is reminiscent of a pretzel, and her clothes are of an interesting design. Some might recognize her.]

[The feed is pretty short, lasting a few seconds at most.]

I'm not very sure if I'm using this en-bee correctly, but if anyone sees this... U-um. I'm looking for a person, but I don't know how to reach them.

cheerhealer

Sylar has his collar off. If you see him on the streets, run. Fighting against him is useless unless you can cut his head off.

He can regenerate now. [ Blood is smeared on her face and on the little Pomeranian in her arms, mixed in with dried tears. She shuts the feed off immediately after that little PSA. ]

( private to peter ; extremely difficult to hack )

( private to loki ; moderately difficult to hack )

[ OOC: replies to the public post will likely come after a few hours ICly. ]

hejhej

[her fingers hover over the keyboard, not really feeling like talking. who the hell spilled their secrets to people on the internet? that was a load of bullshit. but she needed to know more about this place and the things she'd seen her first night bothered her too much]

So. What are you fucks doing here?

axetrid

_{[The scene viewers are met with is one of disaster when the feed manages to settle as it's slammed down on the vanity of a bathroom. It would appear to be like any regular bathroom only it seems as if water has been sprayed everywhere. There's a bit of a huff and a growl before Astrid shoves her face right in the feed. She's dripping from head to toe as well, golden bangs sticking to her face. She's scowling deeply and looks as if she's going to kill someone and really, she probably would.]}

I don't have a calendar. _{[Unrelated to the situation? Not quite.]} I don't have one that Vikings use, so I don't know what day it is for me. _{[Taking a seat on the closed toilet lid she snatched her NV from the counter top, holding it in front of her.]} And because I don't know whether it's Laugardagr or not, I decided to wash my clothes, just to be on the safe side. Sure, I can take a bath and wash my clothes whenever I want now, but if I've missed Laugardagr then I'll feel really gross.

So, I was going to fill the bath with water so I could wash them but for some reason the water was coming out of this- _{[And she leaned over then to snatch the shower head out of the bath and hold it up accusingly beside her, water still dripping slowly from it.]} instead of where it normally comes out of! Everything is soaked now and I don't know how to fix it so the water comes out from where it's supposed to.

_{[Sorry Snow White, your bathroom is drenched. At least she didn't rip the shower head out of the wall...]}

Aside from that, I need a job. That's how you make money, right? With a job? Well I need one. One that's suitable for a girl like me. Apparently you can't just take whatever you want from a grocery store - they get pretty mad at you. You need to pay for stuff, with money. _{[Blond girl who pillaged a grocery store in the news? You're looking at her.]}

Sure, this place has some pretty amazing stuff, but a lot of things are really complicated and I mean really complicated.

_{[There's a frustrated sigh as she pushes wet bangs out of her eyes.]}

I just want to wash my clothes. Thor Almighty, is that really too much to ask?

rapturescreed

[When the feed turns on, Raul is sitting at his office at the Newcomer Community Center, seeing as he trashed his office at Lion's Gate, and it's being rebuilt now.]

First of all, I'd like to welcome all of our recent arrivals to the city of Siren's Port. My name is Raul Creed, and I am the head of the Newcomer Political Party, as well as General Manager of Lion's Gate, here in the city. I realize and understand that this is a tough transitional period for everyone, but I hope that you all know that, no matter what, the NPP is here to help out in any way we can. If you are looking for a job, Lion's Gate is always hiring. We're looking for kitchen, security, wait staff, and bartenders. If you would like to work nights, then please, let me know. The Community Center is also here to help Newcomers out.

[He leans forward a little, hands folded on the desk.]

And speaking of the Community Center, that is the large building a block away from the baseball diamond. The Newcomer Clinic is also at the Community Center, so if you are in need of medical attention, and would prefer not to go to SP General or Skye Medical Center, there is that. All emergencies should go to either hospital, though.

I would also like to let everyone know that the Community Center will be holding a variety of lessons on different subject matters. Re-l Mayer is running those, so it is safe to say that they will be up and running by the end of the month. If anyone wishes to teach a class or two, contact her for details.

[He pauses now, leaning forward and picking up the NV. Walking to the window, he holds it in front of him, showing the city streets spread out from the center's window.]

In more important news, the governor has finally allowed a Newcomer Office to be made within the current system of government. This is a great step forward towards Newcomer rights, and I do wish to aware everyone that our status in the city will hopefully be rising in the future. The governor is letting us have elections to decide who we should put in this Newcomer Office, so be on the look out for possible candidates. For elections, if you wish to vote, you need to become a citizen.

Which is where the Community Center comes in, again. A few months back, we held citizen tests for any Newcomer who wished to become a citizen of this city. The NPP will be holding these tests again, and anyone who would like to become a citizen of the port will be allowed to take the tests, no matter the age or length of time spent in the city. The citizen tests will be on March 21st, and on March 20th we'll be holding a class for anyone wanting to take the tests. I want to stress that becoming a citizen of the port does not mean you are giving up your citizenship of your home country or world. Citizenship here means more benefits for everyone, as well as being counted as a full member of this city. It makes it much harder for the companies to kidnap someone and get away with it, if the person is a citizen.

Back home, citizenship was the highest honor given to an immigrant. I hope that everyone here will take advantage of this opportunity, as we're not sure when it'll come again.

( Filtered to the NPP head committee; Re-l Mayer, Daedalus Yumeno, Diego Armando, Byakuya Kuchiki, Bruce Wayne, Franziska von Karma, and Yako Katsuragi. Michael Xavier has been taken off the filter. )

( Filtered to Franz d'Epinay )

( Filtered to Doctor Michael Xavier and Jubilee )

terminates

[ Good day, Siren's Port. It's your resident jerkfais assassin and bounty hunting coordinator coming at you today with a PSA about the business. He's dressed for the occasion, masked and armored for the world to see, sitting quite professionally behind his desk.

His tone is deadpan as always. ]

For those of you who haven't already registered as a bounty hunter, the time to do it is now.

For those of you who are new to the Port, if you'd like to register as a bounty hunter, we're located in Sector Four at Mugshots bar.

[ He tilts his head at the camera. ]

My name is Deathstroke. If you have any questions, I'm the one to ask.

Try to keep it short.

[ With that said, he cuts the feed. ]

[ ooc: For information on bounty hunting, check out the info page here! To accept a bounty, put one on someone's head, or register as a bounty hunter, check out Deathstroke's IC contact page here! ]

predominates

[ The feed turns on, and the voice that speaks has a modern posh British accent with a velvety edge, definitely nice on the ears. There are a few background noises, like she's on the move perhaps, but the attention's on her new audience. It's a shame she can't share a face just yet; she is supposed to be dead. ]

Hello Siren's Port.

[ and a sultry, pleasant hello it is. ]

I've heard about your little monster problem and all those things that go bump in the dark. So, tell me, I must know. Since no one has found a way out, what does everyone like most about being trapped in this charming city?

[ There's a bit of a scolding tone in there. So of course, she expects to be met with hostile answers, excuses for their incompetence, but it should lead her to the more touchy subjects, what's important, what has everyone up in arms. Or maybe they will tell her exactly what they like. Information, gossip, details. She wants it all. ]

circusmaster

[There were a million questions Smiley needed to ask. But in an unknown land, he could trust no one. Even in Canada. Was it still loyal to the Crown? Was the Cold War still on? How far had Moscow extended itself?

Smiley turns these questions over in his head until he opens the door to his temporary flat. The light bulb in the center of the room flickers on, and he sets his handgun on the small kitchen table before standing by the window, simply watching. He knew that even over forty years, the nature of man didn’t change, but where could he be useful here? The modern phone in his hands looks more like a calculator than anything, but slowly and surely, he starts to type out a post. A single line, written once in English, then repeated in Russian.]

Who invented the light bulb?

((OOC: Smiley is testing you, Siren's Port, although with a bit of a dated question. People from the West would answer Thomas Edison as the first man to come to mind, but in Soviet controlled countries, the answer would be Alexander Lodygin. FEEL FREE AND TRY TO PASS THE COMMIE LITMUS TEST))

grifting

[The feed clicks on and a man can be heard whistling an old tune. It goes on for a few seconds or more, footsteps heard in the background. Then, there's silence, and a faint sigh. A man with a thick Irish accent speaks.]

Quite the story, I'll tell you. "Oh, you've come to 2012, my friend! Enjoy your stay." [A puff of a cigarette.] 'Course, wasn't so nice as all that, especially not with that vulgar writin' on the diamond. I haven't had a welcome like that since I was back in the states and I'll tell you...that was a long time ago.

[He takes a moment to take a long drag from his cigarette before he speaks again.]

How do you tell a fella' that he's gone through fifty years in just a few seconds? I'd think I should be sent to the looney bin if I was spoutin' off that sort of shite. [A cough.] Pardon my language, if you will.

[He scuffs his heel on the ground.]

But it's really true, ain't it? We're all stuck on some godforsaken island in the middle o' nowhere. [He breathes out a chuckle.] Just my luck, eh?

[There's a faint noise in the background and Atlas makes a sound of recognition. He clears his throat.]

Ah, that's the other question I had. This is my second night here and I couldn't help but notice the little buggers outside. What's their story? Anyone feel like sharing?

[ooc: while it has no bearing on this post, if you would, please fill out his permissions post!]

hostage

[Jesse likes videoblogging. It reminds him of that documentary he'd been working on back home, the one he and Badger were going to send to VH1 ages ago. He spends some time readjusting the camera angle even after he's already started broadcasting. Then he seems to realize he should be talking. He flashes a bright smile, boyish and luminous and at odds with his scruffy appearance.]

Hey, yo. What's up, Canada? Land of weed and universal healthcare, man. Right on. Vacation in future Canada. Love it, seriously.

The name's Jesse. I'm from the ABQ - that's Albuquerque, New Mexico in the U.S. of A. circa 2009. Not that long ago, but time travel... Man, that's still pretty cool even if it's only a couple years, right?

So I'm looking for anyone who's up for a party tonight. Drinks on me if you show me some cool places to hang 'round this town.

[A pause. His eyebrow gives quirk as he glances off to the side and wonders aloud:]

- They take American cash here, right?

[A quick shake of his head.]

Uh, drinks maybe on me. Yeah. So... Hit me up if you're down for cruising. Peace out, yo.