thisavrou

You ever think that someone is writing our lives, and we're part of some comedy shitshow that the gods are playing out? If that's the case, then I'd like to have a talk with whoever's in charge.

Shadow demons? I can name at least five Thedosian books that played it better. Caught up on feelings and regrets toward people? There are better ways to damage a person. I can think of twenty bad memories that we didn't even touch on. 

That's why, if you want good plot twists and thrilling concepts, you should subscribe to Tentacles and Shields publishing. This month we'll be producing a story about last month: The Shadow and its Paramore. Stay tuned for details.

sightsset

[The username reads as 'Bismarck.' The picture is of a nondescript piece of purple-painted metal. Is there a pattern here with the previous post? Huh, he didn't notice.]

Tell me a little about your world?

[The request is simple, and harmless enough. No one is obligated to answer, no one is obligated to answer with details if they do.

[It's just a little bit of recon, that's all.]

wronganswer

[ It's not immediately after arriving that Anderson finally accesses the network. Out of sorts and deeply discomfited, she falls back on professionalism, as she's been trained to do, and scopes out the area first. This reconnaissance includes a brief mental skim of assorted passersby, mostly to gauge honesty and make sure this isn't an elaborate psychic-induced hallucinatory trap.

She's strong, but she's not invulnerable. She knows that's a possibility.

Except... it seems like it isn't, and she really is here, wherever 'here' is in the universe. After the two days she's spent poking around and reassuring herself of the reality of everything, though, that's not even the most incredulous part to her. ]

Looking for some information. [ Her voice is smooth, pleasant, a young woman's voice largely stripped of tone and easy to listen to. ] Someone told me there's no police here.

No judges.

How does that... work? Has anyone had experience with the intermediary system?

[ How can a place like this exist? It seems impossible to her. And just who is she, here? Who is she if not a Judge? ]

sketchycharacter

[Nate's face looks unusually serious when it appears via TAB today. Not sad or upset or grim, just like he's feeling unusually contemplative. Shut up, he's allowed to have a moment once in a while.]

You know, when I first came through the Ingress, I actually thought I was dead? I'd been flying in my best friend's plane and suddenly I was in bizarro land, so I figured we went down and I'd just blocked out the fiery death. And then they gave me a job and I knew I was in Hell.

[He's mostly kidding, but only because the teaching gig had turned out to be surprisingly fun.]

Space isn't the worst place I've had a rude awakening in, and I figured okay, we're on a ship, we're going somewhere with a way to get home, it's just a matter of time. And then the ship crashed but we found that place anyway but actually getting home depends on a bunch of science bullshit I don't understand.

And then I took a closer look at the local calendar and, near as I can figure out, it's been almost a year. [He holds up a hand.] Yes, okay, we also spent a year back on party planet, but I try not to think about that so it doesn't count. Makes me wonder how long it'll be—how much time will people spend passing time before deciding to actually live their lives?

Honestly...I'm not sure it makes a big difference with me. There's stuff I want to get back to, sure, but passing the time with some of you guys hasn't been too awful. [He grins.] Hey, to mark the anniversary, I'll do free sketch portraits for anyone who comes by to find me on the front steps of the big museum in Region 1.

( action option )

imoustacheyou

[When the video clicks on, it's not to the confused face of a newcomer, to the concern of someone who has just been plucked out of their universe and thrown to another. It's not of anger, fear, annoyance, none of that. When the video focuses, it's on a man wearing a strange dark coat, twirling one end of a ginger mustache between his fingers. He has light blue markings on his face, pointed ears, wild hair, a patch over his right eye, and looks entirely nonplussed by this entire situation.

In fact, this particular newcomer seems settled enough that he's able to hold the TAB in a steady hand at the perfect MySpace angle. No, seriously, he has this selfie stuff on lock.]

You know, this reminds me of that time I was on the coast of Melharoo, on the planet Yaluk of the Fifth Nebula. There was an entertainment city -- Va Harn, I believe the name was -- with a resort that operated kind of like this. Woke up there without a clue of what I'd been doing the past week! Turns out I'd had a particularly nasty run in with a few Wabbernocks! [Here, he laughs. As if everything he's saying makes complete and total sense.] Last time I went there during a waning metra.

[He lets go of the edge of his mustache, letting it bounce back into place as he regards the lens of the TAB.]

It's been a good while since I've had the time to learn about a new culture, so go ahead fellow visitors and Thisavrounians! Give me your best stories. Tell me about your culture, your technology, your holidays-- anything you could possibly think of!

[And, almost as if it's an afterthought, rather than the whole point of this broadcast Coran come on]

Oh! And if anyone's heard some rumors about flying robotic lions -- particularly a colored set -- I'd appreciate the information.

perceivingly

[The network does start, showing the face of a man who looks to be in his late teens to his early twenties. His face is sun-darkened, his hair dark, his shirt open at the neck, and there is a gleam of gold in his ears. His general air is seemingly playful, as if he is a man that could easily laugh.

Yet the most striking thing about him likely are his eyes. One is gold, and the other silver. He raises an eyebrow a touch, and his mouth shifts into the ghost of a smirk. His voice is gravelly, deep, and there is perhaps a slight lilt to it, when he does finally speak.]

Ah. So it is as simple as the push of a button.

[Although given the look that he is offering, it is fairly clear that Po is not familiar with the item in question.]

When I once said I was more restless than my brothers, I never meant to end up in another universe. The very notion has never once crossed my mind. Rather, it simply meant I preferred to go along my way as I would, through the Seven Kingdoms, perhaps a bit further, if the fancy ever took. Yet, here I am, and I should properly introduce myself.

[There is a motion, and he does come across as quite a social creature, as he bows to the screen.]

Prince Greening Grandemalion of Lienid, Po, to my friends, at your service. I will completely forgive you if you have not heard of my little kingdom. I can say that this little item- a TAB- is quite foreign and unknown, although it does seem to be quite handy. But, I will be more than happy to tell you about mine, if you tell me about yours.

[That light dancing back in his eyes.]

Whether island, city, farmstead... Space ship? Do many people come from worlds with this means of travel?

survivra

—What?

[ It's a question that's both disbelieving and demanding, Katsa's voice just a little more high-pitched than she usually ever speaks. Of course, since this is her first time using the TAB and among her first days in Thisavrou, it's not a detail that too many people should recognize, but still. Squeaky.

It's especially obvious once she continues speaking—lower, but no less demanding, with the look and tone of someone who's accustomed to getting answers when she asks them. ]

Is it a common welcome here, then, to offer some sort of poor beast's heart as a gift? Or does someone imagine they'll disturb others for amusement? A gift from a king, perhaps?

cockade

How many of you have your own language from home?

[There is a very distinct pause as Arno realizes that question may need to be clarified.]

By language, I mean something that is unique to your country or culture. For example, I'm from France and our language is French- but if you go to our neighboring country Spain, they speak Spanish instead. Italy has Italian. Britain has English.

Hilariously enough, if you gathered a Frenchman and a Spaniard together, they would be able to hold a somewhat decent conversation in their own languages because they're similar. [There's a bit of a pause as he says "somewhat," because he's pretty sure he wouldn't completely understand Spanish unless given some time to really digest it.] I'm not exactly sure they'd understand everything, but the basics would be covered rather well.

I suppose I'm asking mostly because there's so many of us, and so there's bound to be similarities and differences. Even across worlds. It would be interesting to talk about it, and possibly teach others if they're wanting to learn as well.

[Because almost anything is better than thinking about their current situation or about the Savrii, in his opinion.]

krasnayapautina

[A woman appears on the network's video feed. She has her medium-length red hair tied back in a ponytail.]

For the many of you I haven't yet met: hi, I'm Natasha Romanoff.

I've been here for a few weeks now, and I know we have a lot going on right now, and probably more of us are - rightfully - antsy and-slash-or pissed, but I have a simple inquiry for everyone today: I could use a sparring partner or ten. Anyone else? Whether you want to blow off some steam about our current situation, or you just want to keep skills sharp, or so on.

Interested parties are free to contact me now, or later. I'll be around, obviously.

[She's not even adding a disclaimer that she's not superpowered, and/or that she only wants responders who are also not superpowered -- she can be a decent match for many with superpowers. Certainly not all the time (she has very fresh memories of being telekinetically tossed several feet and against a truck back home, and she lived, so it's fine ok), though. But she'll take her chances -- that's part of the challenge.]

tearsinajar

It occurred to me the other day that I haven't had a chance to write anything, and that's, to me, a little depressing. There's been so much here that's happened, not just to myself and the friends I've made, but to everyone else. To you.

My day job, back home, for those of you who don't know me, it deals with investigative journalism. I write to uncover the truth, to shed light on scenarios that are otherwise dark and bleak.

Since I got here, everything has been nothing but a whirlwind of events. Each month there's been something new; whether it's stopping off at various planets, or it's daily occurrences on the ship. [ RIP Moira. ] There hasn't been time for me to sit down and write it all out.

[ Elena pauses and her eyes drift downward, off to the left. For those who knew about the incident with the Descendants, how she'd walked away from that moment on the ship with her left arm broken and bleeding out where it'd bitten her...she no longer wears a splint and padded cast. There's no visible sling. It's almost as though none of that had ever happened.

An injury as deep as that, bones needed time to mend. They needed a full two months. It's been less than that.

It shows that she's trying to think of how to word what she wants to say next, without giving anything away. ]

I'm interested in writing about abilities. [ Here she looks up, looks directly into the TAB camera. ] I'm interested in learning about them.

If you're comfortable with discussing this, that's great. I'm available for one-on-one meetings, if you would prefer, or you can reach me privately through the messaging system.

Also, if you're interested in learning more about the stories I've done, I won't mind sharing. Ask me anything you'd like.

[ Except you, Flynn. ]

sketchycharacter

[Not that he's always Mr. Cheerful regardless of circumstances, but Nate's expression looks a little sad, a little wistful, on the TAB today.]

I know the Ingresses space kidnapped a bunch of new people recently—condolences, by the way—but for those who knew Isha Devan, she...won't be joining us the rest of our journey. To wherever the hell we're going.

[He knows where they're going in theory, but the trip has ground to a halt with what they've found at the midway hub. Nate's not taking part in the diplomatic talks with the Savrii, because seriously who would ever want that.]

But! I guess she had a secret project she didn't tell me about, because she left me this behind as a parting gift.

[The video on the TAB pivots to show a mechanical robot dog that looks very much the style of Q, Isha's dog, but instead of a greyhound, this one is modeled after a German Shepard.]

Things aren't the best right now, I know. Better than right after the crash but still not great. So for anyone who wants to distract themselves with something silly and mostly pointless, I've got a project for you: help me name my dog.

Entries tagged with assassin's creed: arno dorian (crau)

All This Shit is Weird: The Weirdening

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