sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: willow rosenberg

[Hey, Portians. Yosuke is done hiding behind the voice function, seeing that his face isn't uglied up that badly these days. In fact, if you ignore the big cast on one arm, he looks pretty much like the usual old Yosuke. Albeit, he hasn't touched up the roots of his hair (oh look, he's a brunette after all) which is definitely weird for him, he looks cheerful enough.]

[You've missed these up the nose shots while he finds the camera angle he likes, admit it.]

Hi, everyone.

I wanted to thank the people who helped with the Open Mic night, and everyone who turned up for it too of course. It was a pretty good success! Because some money was made, I have good news to announce.

The Cat's Eye will be open now every Tuesday and Saturday, all day long. Our manager Raul Creed-san isn't available for comment, but I promise you that I'm the executive type of dishwasher, and I'm authorized to make this sort of declaration.

We wanted to kick off this Saturday with a special menu, but since we haven't found a cook yet we might need to take a rain check for that. But I promise I make really great coffee, and our beautiful barmaid Nill-san will keep your glasses full.

Um, about that. Does anyone have some cooking experience? If you don't mind...let's say "growing with a business" it should be a great second job! I promise, the boss isn't a huge jerk.

Anyway, besides that there was one thing. I uh...I guess I need to learn a few things about accounting and that sort of stuff. Since I haven't finished high school, and I don't really want to, is there a way not to bother with university? Aren't there some technical schools around, maybe? That way I don't have to waste time learning.

...Extra things, I mean. Uh.

Thank you for your time! And we appreciate your continued business while we find out feet again.

[He'll just finish this with a bright "Thanks for Shopping at Junes!" smile. Yeah, that should do it.]

cursedarrows

[The feed flickers on. Ashitaka appears in close up. For a moment he is quiet, lips pressed together in a thin, white line.]

[On second look, he appears to be breathing hard, as though keeping something in. A cut slashes across his cheek, seeping blood.]

[When he speaks at last, his voice is its normal quiet, measured thread, though there is an element of deep strain skimming just below the surface.]

I am . . . in need of some help.

[A wince, sharp, and he twitches, his head almost darting out of view of the feed.]

Not a healer. Someone who knows something of magic. And curses.

[A breath, and he reaches for the feed. His neck is briefly visible; lacing up the side of it is a network of angry purplish-black tendrils.]

Thank you. I apologize.

[Then the feed cuts entirely.]

mulletrock

[Dean's showing a different side of himself to the Port today with his charm full on in effect and no beer in his hand or irritated look on his face.

He's not usually on the network, and stays in his own circle but after a while of living off of hustling and bets on the side he's finally figured out if he wants perks he actually needs to get a job.]

Hey. My name is Dean Winchester, I don't make an appearance on this thing very often but I've been here for a few months and I've got the greeter gig so I might've run into some of you on the field once or twice before.

I'm lookin' for work. Somethin' that'll help me bring in the groceries and get somethin' nice for my apartment.

Let me know if you've got any positions available and we'll get t'know each other better.

[Dean goes to turn off his NV but winds up putting it on holo. You can see him sit down to eat some late night tacos and watch him fold his laundry. He starts in on cleaning his guns when he sees the light still blinking.]

-- How the hell?

[He picks up his phone and flips it open and closed a few times.]

Friggin' piece of crap.

[The rifling and attempts to turn it off go on for a few more minutes before the screen goes dark.]

Why couldn't this place leave my phone the way it was?

[The audio disconnects and the feed is completely gone.]

inthejunk

Uh. Anyone wanna help out with an open mic night tomorrow? I don't think I'll be making it. Which is probably bad, since it's my bar. Don't worry though, the barmaid is really great. I'm sure she'll...make drinks. She just might need some help with everything else.

...I can pay you in ice cream? A-and it's for a good cause!

(OoC: Yosuke has been planning an open mic night fundraiser to re-open The Cat's Eye after Rain's and Fai's departures. He sent an ad in to the paper and everything...but he was abducted for round two of the Newcomer Hunt and he's not feeling up to playing host yet. Possibility of a permanent job at the bar for anyone who responds and works out alright!)

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.)

ex_stakes70

So, lately, I've been thinking. What's the general state of everybody being able to handle themselves in a fight against a big ugly? Lots of 'em around, and there's night patrol and everything, but does anybody ever offer self-defense and weapons use classes? Not saying I need 'em - just that I'd like to step up and do the job myself if nobody else's got a monopoly on that particular chunk of the market. Having people who do know how to fight and take care of themselves is all fine and dandy, but wouldn't it be better to help prepare everybody else on top of that? And if anybody else does already do this kinda thing, any chance y'might be hiring an extra hand? I'm an expert on pretty much any type of weapon you can think of. Not a big fan of guns, but I'll use 'em in a pinch.

LOCKED TO WILLOW ROSENBERG ;; UNHACKABLE.

Whatcha say you and I go find mochas? And discuss the possibility of getting an apartment together once your free lease time is up? I'm staying at a hotel right now. Kinda temporary. If you're interested we can start looking, and I can start a hey-let's-get-living-spacey fund.

END LOCK.

LOCKED TO ANGEL ;; UNHACKABLE.

So should I get a uniform for this bouncer thing? Or is it a come-as-you-are situation.

END LOCK.

plushrumpus

[Afternoon, Siren's Port. Today you're getting a shot from what appears to be the kitchen of the Strider apartment, with one eldest Strider front and center in his usual clothes, plus one Cookie Monster apron complete with giant googly eyes and Cal with his arms wrapped over his shoulders. Nothing all that ordinary.

Except for the part where Bro doesn't actually cook, as is probably evident by all the non-food preparation items littering the room. Meaning this can only end well.]

Sup to my fellow Port residents, and welcome to Cooking with the Striders, shitty title I made up just now pending. Today was going to be the day I unloaded some sickwicked 411 on how to make nothing but the illest of sheet cakes. Shit, who doesn't like that, right? Great for any occasion and delicious to boot. But if you're like me and have puppets for baking assistants, that don't always go so well. [Bro leans to the side and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to a still-smoking, charred monstrosity in a cake pan on the table on the other side of the room.] Needless to say, the guy in charge of timers has since been demoted to oven mitt. [Shrug.] That's just how we fuckin' do in my kitchen.

[He then resumes his spot, blocking the view of the table, as well as the smoke detector on the wall above it with a throwing knife lodged in it for what are probably self-explanatory reasons.] Sorry to say, that footage has since been deemed as "inappropriate for broadcast," we're just gonna say fuck that and jump right to the fun part.

[Something in those words triggers several items to pop out of his sylladex, of which he swiftly catches. In one hand, rests a plain white store-bought cake. In the other, several colors of spray icing.]

Some may call this cheating. I just call it idiot-proof. [He then sets the cake down, pops the lid off, and sets to work spraying patterns all over the edges.] And by idiot-proof, I really mean puppet-proof. No offense, Lil' Cal. [Bro turns his head and briefly offers a grin to where the puppet in question looks like he's peering over his other shoulder.] It's cool, he knows it ain't personal.

[Once the cake looks sufficiently scribbled-on from this angle, he then turns to the center of it, of which has left blank.] Now if you wanna personalize it further and write something out, you gotta keep a real steady hand so it don't look like shit. Trust me, lettering is a bitch. [Which, surprisingly or not, he's actually pretty good at doing. Yay for excellent fine motor skills.]

Now, last step in my case is to get my crown- [Bro sets down his icing and reaches off screen for a moment to grab what appears to be an ornate plastic gold crown that he himself has customized with stick-on rainbow rhinestones spelling out "DOUCHE" in big capital letters. His expression is straight through and through as he sets it over his trademark grey cap, where it sits surprisingly well.] By the way, today's show is dedicated to my lil' bro. I mean, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise for when he gets home from his date, but what the hell, right?

[He lifts and tilts the cake up for his viewers to see, finally, now covered in multi-colored flowers and squiggles and hearts. In the middle is playful script reading the following:]

Not like it fuckin' matters, but hey, this probably means my future nieces and nephews are gonna be at least twenty-five percent more anime if the dog girl thing is hereditary. So this is for you, Dave. For real, I'm proud of you. She's a keeper.