sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: the tenth doctor

[Oh that is a really hideous sweatshirt you have on Lisbeth. But that's not the most distracting thing - an eyepatch currently covers her left eye. She's smoking as usual even though her doctor said not to. Fuck you, doctor.]

I heard you were all lost without me.

( extremely, expertly, tremendously encrypted to everyone but Jesse )

thefourteenth

[Here is Visser One, posting with her own face for the very first time, businesslike and deadly serious. She seems to be posting from some kind of office- whether home or otherwise is impossible to tell. Everything about her has the air of unimpeachable seasoned authority.]

Well, we've all seen the rash of posts about disappearances in the last three days. [She takes a short, impatient breath, drawing herself up a little more.] Come now, we can't possibly think it's just a coincidence. What did that kind of thinking get us with the virus?

Organizing is imperative. We won't accomplish anything by staying scattered and in a panic.

First and foremost, I need you all to come forward here and give the name of anybody who's gone missing this week. So far, I have a list of six names.

[She folds her hands on her desk and leans in, expression intensifying- but still unusually cold. Like a hunter, not an impassioned loved one.]

We will find them. We'll find them, bring them home, then we'll find the offender and give them exactly what they deserve.

(OOC: feel free to threadjack and make a big mess of this post if you want! Visser One just really wants to see some discussion and organization going on, and so do I.)

thefourteenth

Hello, Siren's Port. I come before you with a desperate plea.

[Visser One is no fool. First she takes a few hours to scan the networks and sort through enormous amounts of archived data. What she finds is interesting: evidence of Earth mythological figures, inhuman creatures proudly identifying as alien. People obviously from worlds far more advanced than Earth.

Still, she chooses anonymity. No sense in publicly humbling herself and exposing her Achilles Heel.]

I am a new arrival to this world in serious need of help. My species needs a certain kind of sustenance that we can't find outside of our home world.

I need help, or I will die.

I need someone with highly advanced technological capabilities to help me. Fortunately, I have the means to feed myself temporarily, which you can adapt for your purposes in creating a larger generator. Without it, I will starve to death painfully within a week.

Please, I beg you. Compensation will be given in whatever manner I'm capable, once I can concentrate on anything other than survival. I assure you, I am far from helpless, and will pay my debt in full. Anyone who chooses to assure my long-term survival stands to gain much from the bargain.

theorizes

[The NV does not show a person. Instead, he sends out a text. Because Skyping is for people who have achieved the first three tiers of friendship.

He's also rather freaked out by the Darkness and doesn't particularly want to show it on video feed, so he's just going to sit in his new starter apartment and pretend everything is perfectly normal and Leonard is going to come get him, thank you very much.]

I have been told by one [1] so-called expert in the field that I have been brought to an alternate dimension. As this is both ridiculous and impossible as I have not discovered it yet, I am waiting for an explanation that is both reasonable and able to be proven.

Until then, I will be waiting within this house of the American past-time, attempting to find a train station to return me to Pasadena.

Should they be within this "alternate dimension Canada", I require the presence of one [1] Leonard Hofstadter, provided he is not off wasting his time entertaining the company of two [2] scientists by the names of Rajesh Koothrappali and Howard Wolowitz or one [1] Cheesecake Factory waitress that lacks the education to know this is a ridiculous hallucination by the name of Penny.

By the terms of our friendship agreements, they need to be within this baseball diamond.

Now.

[And then, just as this text is sent out, another one follows it, from the same feed number.]

Amy, if you can read this, call me. Please.

I need to speak with you immediately.

doctor_mccoy

[McCoy is sitting in the break room again, it's late and the lights are dimmed, probably to conserve power, but the soda machine is glowing somewhere behind him and his NV is casting it's own faint blue light from the screen he has open. He looks tired, but that's far from unusual. It's been a busy few weeks. He pulls a pen from between his teeth before he speaks, the poor thing looks half mauled already.]

I'm starting to realized the lot of you still go out monster hunting despite any sort of common sense. So before I ask anything, i'm going to state right now that it's still not something I approve of, but you're all big kids and can make your own decisions.

That being said, I need a few favors.

Aside from the alarming amount of injuries and deaths that have been occurring due to 'natural' disasters, there's been a great deal of damage done to the proofing around here. Which means the critters have been getting in... which means we get to deal with more surprise injuries at night. And, disappointingly enough, we have little working knowledge on how to deal with certain poisons and venom these little bastards are chalked full of. If either SERO or AGI have coined the market on treatments, they're not sharing. Go figure.

To even begin to work on a proper treatment we need the actual poison to work with. I'm sure you see where I'm going with this...

[He frowns, scowls even, as a thought comes to him.] And before you go holding out your hand, the only reward that comes with this is gratitude and me not chewing your ass out if...when a reckless night ends you up on my table. Take it or leave it.

paterelohim

[Guess who's back, gang! Looking cleaned-up and more put-together than normal, in a spiffy bright white shirt that's honestly oddly formal for him. Despite the snazzy clothes and overall manscaping, he looks like he's had the longest friggin' day of his life. The stress shows in how he runs his hand through his hair, messing it up hopelessly.]

Wow. Two weeks, huh?

[Hissing out a breath.]

Man, they really don't tell you how weird it is to go home then come back again. I mean, that's like the-center-cannot-hold levels of what the hell, a serious rift in the Force. It's been months...

[He shakes his head quickly, visibly trying to snap out of it.]

Okay, whatever. This would be big boy pants time, right? I can do that.

So I guess you guys have to tell me what happened while I was gone. Gossip or whatever? The Core forgot to send me Facebook updates across parallel universes, so I'm all out of touch. I'm pretty sure nothing fell apart without me, so you can get back from the edges of your seats now.

Oh, and- hi.

manicpixiedreamgirl

Hi everyone! I've got-

[There's a lot of glare on the screen, so much you can barely see the outline of a sidewalk in one corner of the video.]

Oh, crap. Wait a second.

[It literally is a second, and the camera is fixed. Now, the cause of the glare is clear. Alice is sitting at a little sidewalk cafe, sparkling in the bright sunlight. Light bounces off every bit of her skin not shadowed by her fabulous hat. Even the skin covered shimmers slightly, like she's coated in glitter.]

That's better. So like I was saying, I've got a question for everyone. This place is so isolated, and it's almost impossible to get some of the things I had at home. Like yesterday, I found out that apparently they don't ship out my brand of watercolors! I have to make due with some new brand now.

[Huff. Disappointed Alice is disappointed.]

Anyway, my question is, if you could have one thing from home here in Port, what would it be?

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.

hejhej

I burped and then smoke came out of my mouth.

myselfexcluded

[It's Washu time! Presently, she's perched on the edge of her desk in her office at SPU, looking altogether gleeful about something.]

Hi! Good news, everyone... Or bad news if you don't like new arrivals, but by my calculations it's precisely two weeks, a day, seven hours, and twenty-five minutes until the next Core fluctuation.

Buuut that's not what I'm here to talk to you about. Ever since the time loop, I've been wondering why we don't have a meeting of the minds every month or so- I don't say this often, because no one's nearly as much of a genius as me, but I think we have quite a few actually brilliant minds here and it would be really interesting if we could all get together once a month or more often if we wanted to discuss theories and see if we can implement them ourselves. Why waste our talents with blowhards like SERO when we have our own system, right?

[She gets momentarily wistful.] The Science Academy back home helped everyone across the universe, because it was a group of dedicated people who love their work, all striving towards certain goals to better individual galaxies. If one school can do that for the universe, think of a bunch of geniuses in one town can do.

So what do you say? Anyone interested? [BIG GRIN.]

kal_el

[ Clark hasn't appeared on the network for a while now, but when he appears he's smiling, and rightly so, pushing his glasses up his nose. So awkward. ]

Wedding preparations are in full swing. I always knew it was going to be hard work, but I didn't realise just how much there was to do. It seems like there isn't enough time in the day any more. All the time I'm spending on the phone to florists and caterers, you'd think the phone company should be paying me.

It's stressful sometimes, hard to find time to shoehorn the romance in--and wasn't that the whole point in the first place? I don't suppose anyone has any tips? How do you make time for sleep, let alone your poor neglected fiancee?

( Private to Cass & Tim )

( Private to Conner Kent )

momchester

[Mary's going with voice, because she's too angry, confused, and scared to let the Network see her face.]

Does anyone else have the feeling like they're missing something?

I know I am. I keep noticing things that don't make sense- people say strange things to me or-

-There's something I'm forgetting. There has to be. Nothing else makes sense. There are weapons all over my apartment, I used to Greet at night in the Darkness, people know things about me that don't make sense, and the more I think about it the less I understand.

[This, coming from someone who was there pulling people out of the Towers rubble, who helped the night the sirens didn't sound, who talked about vampire killing in public threads. The state of Denmark isn't just rotten, it reeks.]

Can someone please teach me how to use this gun? I own four holsters and three guns and I don't know how to use any of it. There are boxes of bullets in my kitchen.

I don't know what's happening to me.

failedparenting

[It's been a tough week for John, for a multitude of reasons, but for our purposes we're focusing on the fact that his friend and roommate up and disappeared. John's taking it as a sort of sign to finally move out of the starter apartments, and as soon as he sent his and Bobby's things to storage, he set out for a new apartment.

He's surprised he was able to find one so quick. The rent's fairly affordable, due to the proximity to sector 9, but he can't go all in by himself. Plus, he doesn't know ayone in town who needs a place to live.

Shit. Time to make friends.]

WANTED -Looking for a roommate to split an apartment in northwest sector 4, a few blocks up from Baxter transit stop. Monthly rent even split, utilities not included and negotiable. Basic furnishing, no tv. -Must be human, 28 or older, no gender preference. Company affiliated need not apply. No cats. Must be comfortable around a variety of weapons and disruptions at late hours. Must be able to mind your own buisness. -Contact me if interested.

recidivus

What sort've... powers, do people have? Does everyone have somethin'? Is it just the newcomers? [There is relevance to these questions. But whether she'll tell you, is up for debate.]

( Private to Castmates, including Torchwood )

( Private to Amy Pond )

sharp

[ Amy hasn't been too chatty on the network lately, but she definitely has a few words to say now. ]

He's gone. [ a sharp sigh, realizing how cracked her voice sounded just then. ] The Doctor's gone. One of them, the bowtied idiot—

It doesn't matter. He's left and I don't know when he'll be back. If he even will. Stupid moron didn't even leave anything, except that pegasus.

[ He always comes back, but this time she's not sure if she can believe it. She wants to; her hollowed, sarcastic tone just suggests otherwise. Silence filters in afterward as her eyes drift down to something in her hand, which she begins to fidget with.

Eventually she looks back up, shaking her head of whatever thoughts she was having. She doesn't want to make this announcement all about him. Or make people think they need to fuss over her. ]

Right. But, for those you who didn't know him, I'm Amy. Or if you're new, you might have seen me around the baseball field a bit. Ehm, I'm one of the Greeters, and since I'll be spending more time there, I'll be around if anybody needs me for questions or anything like that.

Not that you lot listen to us anyway.

( private to: the tardis )

jackedthename

[The person on the other end of the NV is obviously familiar with this kind of technology. After a few seconds, a small holographic Jack appears, looking rather irritated and pacing.]

Right. This is the second or third time in a year I’ve been unexpectedly whisked somewhere I really don’t have the time to be. Anyone want to tell me how to get back to Cardiff? I have a feeling if I don’t get back soon enough, my team will probably kill me. [A pause, then a reflective smile.] They might anyway, actually.

So. Whoever’s in charge around here? I’m Jack Harkness, and I’m going to find you and get home, any way I have to.

bestowsgifts

[ Fire.

That is what is first shown. Fire casting its deadly green light, around and around, a manic, frenzy dance of hellish flames. Finally, the flames died down, showing the head and shoulders of a woman with a pale complexion with a greenish light to her skin. Her eyes are bright and alert, completely yellow and holds herself with poise. ]

I have been told the basics of this strange world, that involves with its Core. A kind gentleman whose occupation, I believe, is to be so informative.

[ Too bad Maleficent was, at the time, to be in no mood for any helpful fools - she sent a few lightning bolts along his way when he stutters his first few sentences. ]

How curious this thing is, this Core.

But what I am more interested in is its children, the beasts that prowl at night.

I like to know more about them.

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))

socius

( Internal angsting under the cut. )

[As it is, there's one tired looking ginger glancing down at the camera in hand.]

..Hey Port. Long time no see.

integrity

[The feed turns on from the floor of Crowley's apartment -- tucked in between the carpet and a throw pillow, which should be on the couch, but is not. Instead, it looks like something is on top of it. And that something has gotten ahold of Crowley's iPhone.

Crowley's iPhone what has Siri.]

I do not recognize 'sssss'. Would you like me to run a search for it?

[If you can see the hounds of hell, you will be able to see an extraordinarily fat fluffy puppy, with sharp claws and just barely opening eyes, trying to scrabble towards the phone again, to resume chewing on the toy she has found. It's something of a failed effort, though -- the puppy hasn't quite gotten the hang of her legs yet and instead rolls off of the pillow, landing with a squeak on her back -- but the puppy is resilient and continues to try to get at the phone, even though her paws are moving uselessly against the air.]

I do not recognize 'ajshgsgs'. Would you like me to run a search for it?

[She soon gives up, though, heaving a whimpered sigh as she rolls onto her side, nose just barely touching the screen of the phone, before she is picked up with another loud squeak by the owner of the phone.]

If you touch my phone again, I'll skin you.

[But Crowley, instead of disciplining the dog, gently pets it once before stooping to pick up his NV, wiping it off on the front of his designer jacket, before sliding it into his pocket, where it turns off.]