livesarock: (⊿ unless it was)
[personal profile] livesarock
This isn't--

[a gulp. Zel wipes at his face, swiping at bangs. ear: pointy. cured guy: distressed.]

This has nothing to do with...the shape-changers. It's different. [hunched over, he digs the heel of his hand into his eye, grimacing.

a beat.

he moves the comm back, setting it on the floor to free up his hands. he pulls his sleeve back, exposing blue blotches scattered around his forearm.]

I need to know how to stop it. Before it...[swallow.] Before it spreads.

I need help.
livesarock: (⊿ forreal tho that ain't right)
[personal profile] livesarock
[the sole purpose of the couch in his room is obviously just for him to sit in front of, not on. because that's really the only thing he ever does when he posts near it. TONIGHT IS NO DIFFERENT.]

I remember this holiday. From last year, I think. [shrugging a little, which causes the comm-in-hand to shake some. he's still fidgeting with the angle because having a view right up his nose isn't that flattering.

...Unless this is a different one with the same kind of idea. Food and all those cards. That's not exclusive to anything, I noticed. [but whatever.

he blinks, glancing up and over his shoulder for a second. then back down.]

But that's not really the point. I just figured there were enough people here who didn't know what was going on...and you should know it's better to wait for the day after. Because all the chocolate and other stuff becomes half as much as it's being sold for now. It's better to just...wait...

[the reason for his distraction is probably more visible to the audience than to Zelgadis himself; sure, he has a lot of goddamn hair, but it usually doesn't tend to rise from the back of its own volition, or to shake when his head is otherwise still. well, that's different.

he stares blankly for nearly half a minute, before suddenly shrugging his shoulders up and squirming, face flushing and mouth tugging.]

I-if it's not that much of a problem not adhere to whatever rules the day has about those things--[fidgeting again, bringing a hand to his mouth.

a beat. through his fingers:]

Um. I guess that's it.

[another beat. his mouth quirks from behind his hand while he stifles a snort. he's already turning himself around and asking--] What are you doing? [--while turning the comm off.]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[and an accidental one, too. oh, boy! at least this one doesn't involve him getting smacked in the face with something this time.

actually, the thing gets turned on because it's in a pile of other things he's fumbling through, and the screen is mostly blacked out and blurred until the hand retracts with a guitar pick. it's now a worm's eye from the side, while Zel, all cozy on the floor against the couch, is fidgeting and settling the guitar in his lap, giving the pick a leery look. everyone and their dog uses them at the store...

a couple minutes are filled with some experimental guitar play, snippets of melodies here and there – most of them somber or slowed down for ease.

the feed auto-cuts itself off after a while, having been left idle the way it was.]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[leaning over the guitar propped in his lap, stretching his arms out and trying to adjust the camera to keep it upright on its own. a little shff noise, adjusting the book he's using to do said uprighting.

he stares dubiously at the red record light a minute, before looking elsewhere, scratching behind his ear with a finger. his cured ear with his cured finger, by the way.

looking back, drawing a breath for resolve.]

...I could use some book recommendations. Whatever you think is interesting. I don't mind trying to read something different so long as it's good, I suppose.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[he's got the bridge of his nose pinched to stay off a migraine when things click on. the bridge of a normal, fleshy nose. pinched by normal, fleshy digits not blue or covered in rocks.


and because he's cured, when his hand retracts, everyone can enjoy worn out, red-around-the-edges eyes. it's been a trying 15 minutes, to say the least. he clears his throat twice, because once produced a fairly choked-up sound that's no good for communicating.

a breath. exhale. one more swallow before trying like he rehearsed:]
I'm...[dammit.] I'm back. Again. I don't think it's been very long, from what I've been...[a harsh exhale to fight off the shake in his voice. the hand that had been previously occupied is now pinching and scratching at the back of his neck, tugging little tufts of not wire hair.] Been checking. I think. I don't know the date of when I...[shaking his head, staring downward for a moment.

slowly looking back to the screen, uncertain:]
Whatever was supposed to happen...I guess it's not done too much damage. So...[really starting to grimace, apparently trying to not say something particular. he drags the heel of his palm across the side of his face to the corner of his eye, tilting his head away until his hand's moved away completely. exhale. a slight nod. more resolved.]

Everyone I know...[that biting-at-the-bit look again.] Are you okay?
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[this is the voice:]

I'm not really sure I understand how the holidays and festivals really work around here...overall. If...there even is an ov--[WHUMPH--] WH-- GAH-!!

[loud speaker-wooshing.

loud...chicken squawking.

loud metal crashing.

tinny rattling.

breathless cursing.

three loud CLACKs, before the video function pops on, a fast-spinning screen. when it comes to a stop, Zelgadis is on his ass, back against a wall.

chicken in his lap, chicken..stuck on his head for a few seconds - plopping to the ground and scurrying away with another pair further off.

Zelgadis just...stares. what is his life.]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[oh hey it's this guy.

...well, no. it's actually just the ceiling first, but then it's this guy, tilting the screen his way with one hand while sipping at a mug of something with the other. there is a sword propped up against him at the shoulder, held in place as he sits cross-legged at the foot of a couch.

swallow. blink. squint.]

...Hrmh... [his thumb is a brief, black blur over the lens as it searches for buttons. he gets an "oh," slight epiphany look on his face as a button is pressed--


[private to CASSANDRA CAIN.] )

[private to GEDDOE.] )
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock

hi, zel. wow. look a little more sick of life. background noise: female giggles, fratboys dudeing, other general city hubbub.

righthand side of feed? kind of white and fuzzy.]

I've been told - [gritted teeth:] repeatedly - that I'm not allowed to kill this one.

[WHICH ONE, ZEL? do raise your arm and show the adolescent polar bear gnawing on you to no avail and making whiny bear noises!]


There's someone who can take care of this, right? Humanely. [he scowls at something to his side, working against the force of fat bear head on his wrist to tug his hood further down.]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock



Hey, I...may I ask your advice on something?
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[zel's sitting on the floor of his apartment with a towel around his neck, still not...entirely dry, shirt kind of sticking to himself as clothes are wont to on wet flesh. he's oh so thrilled (no).]

If this whole week is some haywire's not my fault. For the record. And my magic can't fix it. So.

Yeah. This can stop any time now.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock

...Right. [sigh.]

Alright. I'll be quick.

Is this...seasonal...series of things going on some kind of obligation? I mean the sort of obligation where someone or something says it's fine to not participate, but if you don't, you've apparently done something wrong?

[he pauses for a moment.]

I'd also like to know if the people ringing the bells all day are a part of this. They'll be done with the rest of this, too, right? Because...
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[forward-dated to about 2 a.m.

the obligatory few seconds of preparation silence, then a clearing of the throat. the attempt at sounding somewhat official is shot and dead by the third syllable, with the remainder of this announcement in a kind of low tone, trying to keep from waking the Beast...]

Ah, about...the new girl in the City, Lina...She's been here before, but has no recollection of it as far as I can tell and what she's said. So...

[slight pause, tone kind of flattening out in places:]

It's probably in everyone's best interests not to get her too angry. As long as that doesn't happen, then everything should be f–[cut short. beat. exhale.] Fine, really. At least, at least until she understands how things work here. [and that you can't blow up city blocks because your burger was served cold.] It might not take that long, but I'm not sure this time around.

So...That's probably a good idea.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
–p, hey!

[so vidya kicks in apparently set on blair witch mode on account of the fast spinning and shaking of the world set to the sounds of hitting concrete amdist pedestrian traffic.

clink, clack, clack, rattle...shaking to a stop face-up, giving one a grand tour of assorted strangers' crotches as they step over on until zel's (TOTALLY 100% CURED) hand darkens everything in a scramble to swipe it back.

zel's (TOTALLY 100% CURED STILL) face is next, uncovering the screen. he's mildly annoyed by this, with a bit of mud spattered on his cheek and forehead (not to mention his ratty old hoodie). assorted pedestrians walk over and by, give looks, make remarks, etc...

he gives the screen a sour, this-is-your-fault look before cupping it again and turning it off.]


Oct. 13th, 2010 09:37 pm
[identity profile]
--someone out there? Open this door, please! Come on. I can't breathe! If you can hear me, open this door... I swear on my life I didn't take the master's horse!

[ There's a muffled Oh my God! and clattering as the comm turns on.

What the video is showing isn't entirely clear-- a dark room, illuminated by the flickering light from a television screen. What appears to be two young men sitting on opposite ends of the couch is visible. [ profile] iknowyourfear looks thoroughly unimpressed, picking at popcorn, while [ profile] inthirds just seems bewildered.

Oh, and is that a [ profile] aerial_bliss behind the couch?


[ In a terrified squeak from behind the couch: ] Is it over yet? I can't watch!

livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[seated cross-legged in the middle of his tidy little living room (disregard the stacked tower of take-out cartons by the wall) with a sword in his lap, COMPLETELY HUMAN AND CURED!!!Zel is staring down at the screen with an uneasy and awkward expression.



[beat. starting to color.]

What is there do here? If I don't...[have a lifelong obsession to obsess over.] If I don't really know what normal people do around here at this time of day. It's probably different from back where I'm from, so...[so this is a valid question but he sure looks embarrassed about it.]

That's...all I really wanted to ask.

[beat. scowling just slightly and talking over his own embarrassment.] And it can't be cutting people up like some people would suggest, so--! [beat. oh jeez now he sounds crazy doesn't he. GIVE UP.]

...So that's all.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[I'm not sure if CNC is ready for this disgusting display of unfiltered pleasantness. BUT HERE WE GO.

see, now the audio and video is a rush of blurry sights and speaker-scraped sounds because this idiot got bumped and it went flying, so now somewhat-behold the attempts to catch the device mid-fumble. GREAT SUCCESS. a video feed full of the blackened palm of his hand and a 'whew' of sorts.

suddenly DAYLIGHT! as the device is turned around proper, staring up at a hideously human face staring back down. he looks it over, blinking in realization that it's on the vidya mode. he hesitates, as if he's about to shut the thing off, but then he just.......

smiles. sweet jesus why. it's a 'heh' smile. WHO IS THIS FREAK.

then he has the decency to shut it off. THE END.]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[the camera is set on the ground, worm's eye of...a boring, vacant lot. woop. suddenly, a sword is thrust into the ground a few feet away. it's slightly (okay, a little more than slightly) frayed, small chips missing.

the voice is off-screen, standing to the side.]

I need to know if there's anyone in the City that can repair this. Or...simply replace it. I know this isn't exactly the go-to place for a blacksmith, but...
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
Mm. Just a couple things.

I want to know about that Institute. The one I hear a lot of people on this network are a part of. Particularly what's learned there. And...the cost that sort of thing comes to.


...That's really all that matters right now, actually. The rest can wait.

[another long pause, considering.]

Oi. Captain. Are you still here?

[there's an expectant pause before he clicks it off; and all replies on this end will be voice unless otherwise stated yeah!]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[amid the pleasant, atmospheric sounds of the City park/nearby traffic, there is a weary sigh.]

This place has too much stuff. It's a littl--[beat. someone is shouting a taunt from a distance, undecipherable from the comm.


then, annoyed:]
...What the hell is a 'Wonka Factory'? I don't...[I lost my train of thought. well damn. another sigh.]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
Since things've changed a lot since my oddly-timed absence, I want to know about the magic community here. There's some questions I need answered, if possible. [pause.]

I need a sealed or designated zone to test the limits of my own spells here, too. Better to know my capabilities here before the next big mess.


...uh. well i guess i oughta--]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[it's starts with audio! a resolved huff.] Right. This is... [click! video. sadly the Blue Man Group is not in town. just this guy. his hood is up so that people don't hit him with cars and crowbars like the last time. funny story. MOVING ON--] There.

I'm not really sure I get the logic behind a five-minute return, but I remember someone telling me that sort of thing happened more often than not. Fine. Time doesn't stop either way, does it? [looking up and around the street he's on, squinting.] I don't remember those buildings, though...]

Hnh. [he rubs his not!rocky forehead, idly running a hand through his not!wiry hair.]

If it's not that important, then, just tell me how I can get a hold of Puck. We have business. Lapse or no lapse, I'm not going to...[blink.]


[tugging on a piece of hair, he goes cross-eyed looking at it for a moment. then, out of nowhere, he smacks his forehead, running his palm down the side of his face slowly, stretching not!rocky skin.] Wha--

[moving his hand away from his face, looking at it. no, dude, you're still blue. he gapes at the hand, then back at some of the hair in his face, then...somewhere, utterly bewildered.]

I...uh--[welp.] What's...?
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
I'm of the understanding that little...uh. [how do i say it without making it sound as humiliating as it probably was.] Gender...switch...isn't considered normal around here. Nobody mentioned any kind of machine behind it--ah, unless I missed that. Is it safe to assume magic was involved?

And if that's the case, the source--who or...whatever it was...picked targets off of this network. So it's listening. And if it was listening then, then it might be now.


What would I have to do be turned human--permanently?

[another beat. then, awkwardly.]

And...not switch genders.

ooc; FF OH YEAH all replies voice unless i say otherwise because i hate writing in the subjects :]
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
Not to add onto the mayhem of the week...month...but I'm only using this to be sure. I'm looking for some people. Lina Inverse and Gourry Gabriev. It's not uncommon that they go off to find some new restaurant to sample,'s been too long since I've seen them.

If you've met them, you'd know who they are. And if you've seen them recently? Just say so.

I'm fine being here alone. I just need to know that for sure.

ooc; all replies voice unless otherwise stated.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
I'm assuming that...situation that flared up's been somewhat suppressed. Hopefully someone thawed out those people I had to[CLEARS THROAT ANYWAY.]

I must be using this 'internet' thing improperly. From what I've seen, it looks like an incredibly useful information source. Faster than the books and scrolls I'm used to, at least. I think. I've seen people using it for their studies.

There has be some sort of trick to getting what you want, though. [faltering.] ...Every other uh. Link...I try leads me to a small film of a man named Rick singing. I can't figure out why it's so important.

Maybe if I just was more specific...[a beat.] There. That should...

[another beat. Rick Astley faintly plays.]


ooc; all replies voice unless otherwise stated!
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock

Amelia's been absent for too long. Is this perhaps one of those "porter"-related things? What is the procedure for double checking that? Is there one? I can hardly tell what passes for 'organization' in this City.

One other thing. Aside from superstitions and old mythologies, this place doesn't put much stock in magic from what I can gather. But considering how many strangers get pulled here regularly...just how many magic-users are trapped here?

ooc; all replies voice unless stated otherwise.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
There seems to be no middle ground here. Either you know how things work here and manage just fine, or you have next no experience with this kind of culture, and you get to enjoy learning things the hard way. [muttering.] Unless that's more exclusive to those of us unlucky enough to not blend in naturally.

I can't even tell what passes for 'average' or 'acceptible' here. I've seen dozens of so-called 'superheroes' buzzing around for this and that without people on the streets so much as twitching. Then you turn a corner and someone hurls a crowbar at you. And then picks it up and does it again. Maybe it's only acceptible if you're flying. Or not blue. Hhh.

Whatever. I'm actually more curious as to what's keeping the people here that don't like what's happening around here? I don't know how the government works here--especially since a portion of it is missing, apparently?

Because no matter what does get passed over as 'normal', I don't think it includes the things that disintegrate your home. That's not normal either, is it?

ooc; all replies are voice.
livesarock: (Default)
[personal profile] livesarock
[at first, simply another run-of-the-mill, someone-figuring-out-how-to-turn-their-comm-on click of a voice post.]

--nd write it in a language I can read...[sigh.]

...Ah. Something's happening. I saw other people hold them up like this into it. Like this? Hello? This is kind of ridic--

[a woman's SHRIEK]
--Wha?! What's--ow! What're you--hey! Just, just wait a second, I--

[a man screaming "IT'S ANOTHER MONSTER--GET IT!"]

Now, wait just a--[a loud THOK!, and the sound of the comm hitting thr ground. VIDEO feature now clicks in, and, turned on its side, one can see a foot, and further away, a large man with a metal baseball bat. There's a woman screaming in the background, and a crowd is forming.

There are large dents in the bat, and the man holding it looks horrified.]

Now that you've got that out of your system, can you just--

[another man screams "GET OUT OF THE WAY I'LL GET MY CAR-!"]

Your WHAT?! L-look, I'm just going to go an--[squealing tires, and a Scion, flooring it, is zooming towards the screen. The foot in front of the screen shuffles, and a blue hand picks it up and blacks out the image for a while.

The sounds of squealing tires, angry people, and fast, fast footsteps until a thundering
BOOM shorts the speakers for a few seconds.

Thirty seconds of black and no sound.

The screen brightens back up as the hand is removed, and a very disturbed and peeved Zelgadis is staring down at it as if it's the source of all his problems. He's sitting in an alley, and someone's cloth purse is...dangling from the back of his head. Stuck to wire hair. Something rustles just off-screen and gets his attention. A filthy man's face peeks in from the side as he slowly drawls,

"Yerrr not Farrah Fawcett..." a beat; just a screen full of another disturbed Zel-face. The voice adds, slowly, "...aaare yeh?"]



Zelgadis slowly turns and stares back down at the comm. Just. Stares.]

ooc; all replies are video.



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