003 » voice

[baddaboom]

Aaaaalright, I gots a question for all of you. Think of it as a casual poll, I guess.

I still seem to be the only one around these parts that's ever even heard of digimon, which is a cryin' shame! But embarrassing as that might be for you folks, more importantly, it leaves another big 'ole question to be answered. Seein' as none of the rest of you were digimon, and plenty of the rest of you obviously weren't human, what exactly were ya? Some of you still ain't human, after all!

I mean, some of youse are grey! That just ain't normal, if you ask me.

04 ⌁ Video

[invisibly]

[Sue is in the living room of her penthouse. She's sitting in the dark, the window that overlooks the water can be clearly seen in the background. Wrapped up in her bathrobe, she looks tired. Exhausted really.]

I hear the ticking of the clock, I'm lying here, the room's pitch dark.

[She pauses, a puzzled look on her face. It's as if that wasn't what she meant to say.]

I wonder where you are tonight, no answer on the telephone.

[Another pause. This really isn't going her way at all.]

And the night goes by so very slow. Oh, I hope that it won't end though, alone.

[Suddenly, as if by some invisible cue, background music suddenly begins blaring. And Sue suddenly finds herself singing!]

'Til now I always got by on my own,
I never really cared until I met you.
And now it chills me to the bone.
How do I get you alone?
How do I get you alone?

[Suddenly filled with confidence, she continues to sing.]

You don't know how long I have wanted to touch your lips and hold you tight.
You don't know how long I have waited, and I was gonna tell you tonight.
But the secret is still my own,
And my love for you is still unknown, alone.

[This is the part where she gently rocks out and dances around her living room in her stocking feet, bathrobe fluttering around her like a cape.]

Ooooooh!
'Til now I always got by on my own,
I never really cared until I met you.
And now it chills me to the bone.
How do I get you alone?
How do I get you alone?

[An invisible guitar plays mournfully, and Sue looks appropriately stricken as she dances.]

Alone! Aloooooooone!

[And then, as suddenly as the music began, it ends. And Sue is left looking, well, mortified. She suddenly vanishes from view, and the feed cuts off abruptly.]


((ooc: Yes, Sue just rocked out to Heart. This is for the musical plot, btw.))

✞ || THIRTEEN || [video + text]

[unetrustworthy]

[Midii isn't looking at the screen, her attention fully devoted to the several pieces of paper scattered around her desktop. She checks two for every single letter written on a third. A few books sit to her left, their spines just barely visible. Codes and Cyphers, and a French-English Dictionary.]

[This, in and of itself isn't too strange. Not for a girl like Midii. But what is strange is the fact that, as she writes, she starts singing:]

There is a castle on a cloud,
I like to go there in my sleep,
Aren't any floors for me to sweep,
Not in my castle on a cloud.

[She pauses here, looking around. Realizing that something is off, but unable to figure out exactly what.]

[After a moment, she continues writing.]

There is a room that's full of toys,
There are a hundred boys and girls,
Nobody shouts or talks too loud,
Not in my castle on a cloud.

[Again, a pause, but this time only because she'd finished her task. Grabbing her communicator, she begins typing her message carefully. The screen fades, but the last of her song cane still be heard just before the message appears:]

There is a lady all in white,
Holds me and sings a lullaby,
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch,
She says "Midii, I love you very much."

I know a place where no one's lost,
I know a place where no one cries,
Crying at all is not allowed,
Not in my castle on a cloud.


+++TEXT+++

U glcw vwwb oelxruxubf xiswa.  Vwxlyaw qeurrwb Wbfkuag, ri nw, ua kujw l xisw.  Rgua ua nt duear nwaalfw.  Qglr si tiy rgubj?

Can you read my message?

Hint: if you are reading this on a computer, the answer will be right in front of you.


((OOC: Midii was hit by the singing plot while working on her new project. The puzzle is something I wrote myself basic on a Layton-style puzzle. See if you can solve it on your own, but if you can't and want your character to, you're welcome to message me for the answer))

24th Hour // Video

[out_of_time]

[Jack faces the camera and clears his throat. He's sitting on the bench in his sterile white Superjail cell, wearing the appropriate jumpsuit. He looks serious and thoughtful.]

I've been thinking a lot about why I'm here. About the things that happened, the things that I did. About this City and what happens here.

[He looks down for a second to choose his next words, then back up at the camera. His stare is level, intense, focused, which is why he doesn't notice that he's started to glow.]

I've decided-

[The flash is bright enough to completely white out the video for a moment, and when it fades, he's gone. After more than two years, Jack Bauer has finally gone home. Somewhere offscreen, alarms begin to blare. A prisoner has just gone missing.]

[ooc: No replies from Jack, obviously. He'll be back in a few days after his canon update.]

02 / Video.

[heavyhanded]

[ The interior of a Mac apartment! And Jaime is slumped in a chair, holding what looks like a... solid gold wine bottle, and not looking pleased. ]

I've heard talk of "superpowers" among the imPorts. Perhaps I've found mine. If this is meant to be a blessing, then the gods here play japes just as cruel as the ones I've known in Westeros. [ A wry smile, and he tilts the bottle upside down. Nothing pours out. ] Why, I'd barely even started this bottle.

The banks here will take my coinage gladly enough, do you think they'll take my drink, as well?

[ He peers into the bottle, sighs, and tosses it away with a heavy clunk. ]

It was poor wine, anyway.

£ 032.

[psychomancy]

[gemma looks pretty freaked out!! probably because she's mid-song when she turns on the comm. the background music is right there with her:]

—I saw the devil in your eyes
With your sweet, smooth-talkin' ways
You turned a flame into a blaze
The night I let you hang my wings upon your horns

[magic is pouring from her hands in thick, white ribbons as it tries to stop whatever's happening, but it just doesn't seem to be working.]

Don't tell me that I'm no saint
I'm the first to know I ain't
There's a little thing called love
And that's what changed me
From an innocent country girl to a woman of the world
The night I let you hang my wings upon your horns

[so totally bewildered as to why this is happening, but she can't stop! pippa is sitting behind her, and just tilts her head at her master.]

You hung my wings upon your horns
And turned my halo into thorns
And turned me into a woman I can't stand
You're the first to ever make me
Fall in love and then not take me
The night I let you hang my wings upon your horns

[gemma falls silent, and she lets out a sigh of relief after a few seconds. and then the embarrassment. she'd meant to post this asking for help, but clearly that wasn't going to happen. well this is awful. she abruptly turns off the comm.]

[ooc; i love loretta lynn. thanks to ali for the suggestion!]

1 | VIDEO

[foreshadower]

[ The man who addresses the communicator is already in the MAC, and despite the rudimentary furnishings, he looks, well, posh with a crossed leg, and a cane across his lap, although all that's visible is the silver head of the thing, since he's so close. Despite the forthcoming amused tone to his voice, there's no smile on his face. The name attached to the comm simply says "The Shade". ]

Now, isn’t this a sight? Although I’m afraid sophisticated technology like this, as generous of a gift as it is, isn’t quite enough to enamor me toward your city. Although I say, the name? It could use some work. [ A tsk. ]

Regardless, I’m sure insulting your home won’t make a friend of me, now will it? Nor will simply asking all the standard questions, I’m certain. The pamphlet is a nice touch, of course, although a bit too colorful for my tastes. Be a hero, there are villains, it’s all a familiar song and dance, and it strikes me, I’m intensely curious now.

There was an entire portion about “How to Deal with Super Villains”, I’d almost be insulted, but, I’d rather talk about those of us out there, and I do mean us, don’t I? I'd hope I'm not simply speaking to myself, this is a way to communicate with the others who’ve been so suddenly ripped from their homes, their beds, their cities? [ He becomes increasingly a little more annoyed, before this seems like a bad approach. He just misses Opal City already. ]

Back to the subject at hand, of course. How many here don’t fall into either category? It does get tiresome with such extremes all the time, doesn't it?

021 // Video, 'round lunchtime

[incywincyhero]

[Peter's sitting cross-legged in one of those swanky mesh office chairs, what looks like a scientific journal propped open on one knee and a mechanical pencil held loosely in one hand. Judging from the camera perspective he's propped up his communicator on one side of his desk, but it's hard to see where he found the space. The rest of the visible surface is covered in the detritus of research: a half-open laptop; scattered print-outs; coffee mugs both paper and ceramic; graph paper notebooks open to half-completed diagrams of molecules and circuits both; a haphazard stack of journals with arcane names like PNAS, Biopolymers, Advanced Materials and the like. A couple of empty sushi cartons are balanced on top of the stack, chopsticks and a crumpled napkin tucked inside.]

I've been buried in research lately, and it just occurred to me that other than Carol's book I haven't read anything that's not in a cover like this-- [he picks up the journal off his lap and flaps it to demonstrate; it appears to be an issue of Physical Review Letters, whatever that is]-- in, what, six months?

I think I could use some help breaking out of my rut. What kinds of things do you read for pleasure, Network? Any recommendations? For those of you who are big readers, anyway-- I know not everyone is. [Though he clearly doesn't get why not.]