sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: rorschach

Well, that was interesting.

I can handle skipping around in a multiverse setting. I've done it before but never quiet so... unexpectedly. And coming back the same way. I don't know what to say except, that was strange.

Is everyone all right?

Does anyone know where we WERE?

I'd have more information if I'd been able to fly over, but I couldn't.

failedparenting

Anyone who knew Dean Winchester, I've got some bad news. He was killed back in 1918, by two shots to the chest. It wasn't anyone who lived there.

[He's got an inkling of who did it, but in case he's off the mark, putting a little fear of god into his real killer won't hurt.]

I just want whoever killed him to know, you have no idea the kind of shit you've just stepped into. You've got me and my family to answer to for this, and you're not coming out whole.

infromthecold

[Someone's wearing a jacket and gloves they're not winter grade but anything is really to heavy for this heat. He's on the steps of the HoA just outside the inclosed porch.]

There's still a few hows for the Christmas trees to decided to come to life and attack like those turkeys did. I've heard of Christmas in July Seems we got an Indian Summer in December instead.
[He pauses for a few seconds to collect his thoughts]

I've been seeing posts where people have been getting depressed about not being away from home and friends. I get what it's like to lose someone near the holidays. I just want to say you should celebrate a bit. It's OK to take the night off. We're stuck on one strange island but we shouldn't let how crasy the world is take he holidays away from us. I guess that's all.

[It's then that something large and pink col ides with Bucky's shoulder and explods in a wave of water.]

What the hell? Anyone know if NVs are waterproof?
[The feed cuts out]

upstairsbrain

[ There's only a brief pause, a breath, before Sam speaks. ]

I've never really been big on Christmas. Few years back, I was accused of being a Grinch, but, uh-- Anyway, I think there's something to be said here. Back home, my brother and I didn't really celebrate. Didn't really get to. I mean, we had some cheap egg nog and a plastic tree in a motel room every so often, but that was about it. I only know a handful of Christmas carols, and I've never been good with presents. I mean, it's tough, right? Finding something annually to really wish a person a good new year. Something that can make them happy.

... Things were different back there. For a lot of us, here, I know. I just-- That I'm spending this year with my family, with some kind of normal life? Even with the stuff that happens in the Port, it's...

[ He scoffs, lightly. ]

... Really kind of a miracle. That's what the holidays are, I guess.

[ Sam pauses, licking his lips. ]

I'm not sure what my point is, so-- Sorry about that. I think, just... things've changed. And I'm glad. So, Merry Christmas, everyone.

manicpixiedreamgirl

Merry Christmas everyone!

[It's Christmas Eve, and Alice is as excitable as ever. Well, even more so today, because CHRISTMAS.

Also, apparently even she has a weakness for bad Christmas sweaters. Just soak that sight in.]

So while you're all preparing your presents, or going about your day as normal if you don't celebrate, I've got a little announcement for you all!

New Year's Eve, I'll be hosting an open house party at my shop in Sector 2. Now, even though I'm hosting it there this isn't an affiliated event, so SERO affiliates are more than welcome to attend! Dress code is semi-formal, so if you stop by, dress your best.

[Private to Magneto and Jesse Pinkman]

I'm hoping you'll be able to make it, too.

[Have a sad little smile to damper down all that holiday cheer.]

failedparenting

[John's behind the camera today, bringing you a live feed of Christmas morning. Except, all the resents are the same. The gifts are a pile of fiftyish, individually wrapped ties.

Not many of them are unwrapped, he kinda got the idea after fifteen.]

Who the fuck sent me fifty ties?!

empowers

Everyone's talking about winter like it's something to celebrate. [ She speaks flatly, not perturbed so much as perplexed. Her brow creases, and her lips flatten into a thin line. ] It's cold. Game hibernates or migrates. Food is harder to obtain. Not here, maybe, but -- what is it that makes winter so special for you? The people who are talking about buying gifts, about how they're sick for home... I can't remember a single winter that wasn't harsh in some way or another. Why treat it like a festival?

psychopath

I'm too old for this!

[has any of you heard a 24-year old man whine? because you're hearing one right now. Jack's wearing a newsboy cap and a jolly Christmas sweater, and he looks like he's in a tree of some sort.

Some might realize he's in the forest, in a tree that's fairly impossible to climb unless you're part monkey or something. He has a hand against a cheek, his nose is red, and he looks really miserable. Teenage-girl miserable. He lifts his hand and gingerly prods against a proud, majestic specimen of a pimple near his nose, and groans.]

I never got these before! Ugh. Does anyone know how to get rid of....this...without leaving a scar?

mouthbreathing

[It's obvious that Warsman is still at the gym, sitting side-on to the camera; behind him viewers can see a sepia poster for a classic Port boxing match, and, next to him, the corner post of a boxing ring rises up over his shoulder. Even more telling is the steady thump and grunt of men exchanging blows behind him.

Warsman himself has a towel over his shoulders and one leg pulled up on the bench while he adjusts the kneepad around his calf, fingers deftly working the straps, so that he doesn't have to look directly into the camera.]

You've probably seen the notices on the network over the last week or so- before it went down, anyway- but it doesn't hurt to remind people that we're still accepting donations for the charity drive at the Newcomer Community Center. We'd really appreciate extra volunteers, too; just contact either Ella or I and I'm sure we could work something out.

[He pauses, glancing sidelong at the screen. In the background someone hits the mat, but his thoughts are obviously on something altogether gentler; his mask creases softly around his eyes, and when he speaks it's in a lower, almost confessional key.]

I know a lot of you understand what it can be like to have very little. It would mean a lot if you could help make things just that little bit easier f-

[There's a battle-cry from the ring and suddenly, like a plummeting zeppelin, a man comes flying over the ring-ropes and crashes into Warsman; the bench upturns entirely, sending him crashing to the floor with a painful thunk. His NV rolls along the ground and comes to a rattling halt with an awkward close-up around his chest before, finally, his hand fumbles into the shot and switches it off.]

princeofpictionary

[ Despite some of the events that had gone on the past few days, Prince Soma still seems to be his usual upbeat self. It's December, his BFF just had a birthday, it's snowed a few times this month - a type of weather that still amazes him - and to top it all off, he's been learning so much about this upcoming holiday known as Christmas. He'd known of it slightly from back home, at least from the religious stand point, but he's recently become acquainted with all the other little festive bits that have become associated with it over the years. Santa, elves, reindeer, presents, candy canes...

Oh! And one other special thing... ]

I made Christmas cards!! Did everyone get them?!!

[ The answer to that should be 'NO' since - fortunately for some of you - Soma hasn't quite met everyone yet! ]

Oh! Probably not... Well, here it is if you wanted one!

[ Soma frowns at the screen for a moment while he remembers how to bring up paint images on his tablet-style NV. After a moment or two he figures it out and two images come through: The front of the card, first. Followed by the back of card. ]

I know they are perfect, so go ahead and print them and hang them up. I will allow it.

manicpixiedreamgirl

Ah, quick question. What do people eat on a regular basis?

[Normally this would be an easy question to answer, but....she's so confused.]

I mean, I imagine you can't eat the same thing every day, but how do you keep it diverse too? Do you have to go shopping every few days? And cooking, do you have to do it three times a day too?

Honestly I have no idea how you get anything done if you're cooking or eating all the time.

[HELP HER.]

thehonking

so i figure now that i'm as settled as a motherfucker's likely to get.
AS SETTLED AS I'M ABLE TO MOTHER FUCKING BE GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES.
maybe i should get my greets on to all my other bros stuck in this same lawnring.
SHOW I CAN BE ALL MOTHERFUCKIN SOCIAL.
So.
HONK.
:o)

hejhej

I am interested in boxing lessons. Preferably in the evening. Any information is welcome.

mouthbreathing

[As he switches the feed on Warsman seems closer to thoughtful than his usual melancholy, which already might seem a change for the positive. Stretched across a rather faded and too-small sofa, his balalaika is in his lap again while he tunes it. Having something to do with his hands seems to soothe his camera-shyness; he may be naturally soft spoken, but over his strumming his voice is calm and even.]

Have you ever noticed how some people have distinct ‘sounds’ that remind you of them instantly? It’s a little sentimental, I know, but I feel as though music brings me closer to the people who aren’t here. Even before I got here I spent a lot of time by myself, so I had to find ways to remind myself of the people I missed. But then, everyone has their own way of remembering people, don’t they? I’d be interested to know how other people manage it.

[He glances back to the window off-camera with a soft, peaceful sigh.] With the rain in the background, too… it’s nice, isn’t it? Though maybe some of you prefer sunnier weather…?

[The strumming pauses as he shifts on the cushions, and one might also notice scratch marks across his bare chest, which he absently pulls his poncho down to cover- inadvertently drawing attention to the twin scratches on his forearm in the process. He's stretched the preamble as far as it will go: time to get to the main point.]

There’s- there’s something else. I know it isn’t possible to leave the island, but does anyone know if it’s possible to retrieve objects from home? I lost a photograph a long time ago, before I even got here, and I guess I just started thinking about it again this past week. It’s a long-shot, but if anyone could help I’d appreciate it.

twin_armageddons

( TEXT )

[Translation and text opt out post

and once again the universe decides to take a massive dump on sollux captor.
apparently being on a meteor awaiting death wasn't enough and then i suddenly found myself on some sorts field on what i can only assume is human earth??
what is even the deal with that?
that is such a stupid play to transport people to and whoever decided on that location should step off and go shove something up their nook.
anyway thanks for the free tour of this horrendously sunny place i guess but if someone could just point me in the direction of the nearest exit, that would be great. ]

proxysproxy

[The room is fairly dark, though one can still see the outlines of piles upon piles of battered books. And there is Ergo Proxy, holding a claw to his mask, as if to take it off... But he doesn't.]

For those of you who knew him, Proxy One is no longer in Siren's Port.

[The mask, and the even tone of his rumbling voice make it hard to tell what, if anything, the proxy thinks about this.]

I wonder. We Newcomers are torn from our own lives and our own duties and transplanted into this city. While we're here our lives are on hold and our purposes go unfulfilled. No time might be passing back home, but time still passes for us.

What do you do when you cannot fulfill your purpose?

antinouswild

Citizens of this strange and wonderful city that is Siren's Port,

It has been called to my attention that certain factions within the port have, through their inhumane practices, have proven themselves undeserving of our favor and our patronage. When AGI enslaves those are who indebted to them, the crime they commit is not only against the souls who must live in chains for want of the money maliciously lent, but a crime against all of us who must live along side such a practice.

Will we tolerate such people wielding power over us? Will we work in the employ of slave traders and people who degrade their fellow men? Will we continue allow such things to exist?

Anyone with a shred of decency will say nay! For our fathers that have been enslaved, for our children who could grow up to be slaves, for their sake, we will stand up and tell them no.

Such things must not stand!

Join me!

Together we can clear our Siren's Port of this blight. Who will stand by my side?

cancersticks

[ She doesn't like the network. You're all a bunch of weirdos and freaks, as far as she's concerned. However, she is in need this time. And not accusatory, which is no doubt a big plus for the listening audience.

She is sitting at a coffee shop, outside, wrapped in a heavy coat and scarf. Her pregnancy is noticeable, unless you just think she's fat. That's cool, too. JERK. ]

I need a doctor here. This is not a first come, first serve request. I will personally interview each of you -- however many that is -- and choose the best one for my familly's needs.

[ The feed ends. For anyone who comes across the little coffee shop in the fourth Sector, they might catch Skyler... smoking a single cigarette. It's just one. ...Right? ]

janesaysdbaa

Hey, it's Jane. Again.

I still feel like I've been run over by an eighteen-wheeler, but at least I got out of the house. Lisbeth took me to the underground mall so I could buy some clothes and look around at some location choices for this shop I'm planning on opening. I don't know when yet because Jesse's funding it and I still feel like death. But it's coming to fruition sometime in the near future. Oh, it's a tattoo shop. So. If anyone else is a tattoo artist, or an artist who is interested in apprenticing for me and learning how to tattoo, drop me a line and we can figure something out.

I also dropped off Yosuke's clothes, but he wasn't at the Tower Apartments so I just left them at the front desk. Hopefully you got them Yosuke? When I'm feeling better you should let me get you lunch or something. I owe you an actual thank you for everything.

I guess I have a free meal waiting for me when Los Pollos Hermanos opens.

This is becoming a list of random shit and I'm getting nauseous again so I'm going to lay down for a while.

But, feel free to drop me a line.

integrity

[Crowley is outside, casually flicking chunks of bread at a blue chicken. Said chicken is usually the bane of his existence, as he loathes the little bastard and how it does nothing but shed and ruin his yard, but he seems to behaving himself in regards to the bird today. No insults or attempted slaughtering -- at least, not yet.]

I'm bored. And seeing as people tend to dislike when I'm bored, as it tends to lead to opening lost dimensions or starting revolutions, I thought I would offer a slight puzzle for the public -- and whoever answers first gets a cash prize.

[He tosses a casual grin toward the always hovering NV before he flicks his fingers -- and with a gentle roll of telekinesis, the chicken is sent squarely on her ass with a squawk.]

Riddle one: What is the next number in this series of numbers, starting with -- 6, 14, 36, 98, and 276? And riddle two -- and this one is the real treasure --

[And he rights the chicken with another flick of his fingers.]

Whoever is responsible for the attack that's caused such a fuss is going to get his or her liver removed by my hellhound without anesthetic, for both attacking my pet parakeet and for ruining a good suit. To those who wish to see the spectacle, give me the name and address of whoever is responsible -- and I'll hand over ten thousand dollars, cash.

[Sounds fair, right?]

Cheers.

[And the feed is shut off.]