Jun. 17th, 2012
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[From the sound of it, Jason's outside, probably the rooftop of a shitty apartment building in Brooklyn. There are birds chirping and the sound of cars on a nearby express way. Other than that (and the faint music in the background), it's eerily quiet and when he speaks he sounds tired.]
The one redeeming value of ERs is that they give you time to read. I'm not normally Mister Positivity, but I can't fault them there. If they have to be so goddamn backed up with people trying to scam them for drugs, they at least make up for it with a good selection of magazines. Fortunately enough, I was in the position where I didn't really mind sitting and waiting for a while. Unlike the guy who game in half an hour after me with three of his fingers removed. And I thought my limbs suffered tonight. Anyway, my point in all this is that the reading material is pretty decent up at Lenox Hill. You should check it out sometime.
Anyway, I'm better at segues in text.
Turns out, despite our best efforts for this fair city, crime is on the rise. Stupid, boring, low-level crime, too. Jacking tires, of all things, which takes me back even more than the burning thing that happened earlier tonight. You see, when the local economy drops for whatever reason --for the sake of argument here we'll blame those Skrull things-- petty crime picks up. Tires make a pretty penny, are easily resold, and are virtually untraceable. Most tire thieves work in pairs, but trust me when I say it's not that hard to pull off by yourself. Even the locks on the wheels are easy to crack. And by crack, I mean literally chisel off. This type of theft requires absolutely no brain power, a kid or a trained monkey could do it. Perfect for your average goon, right?
Funny thing is, the article I found says that this kind of crime hasn't been widespread since the mid-80s. This is an alternate universe, sure, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only kid in Gotham who tried to lift a set or two well after that.
... But then that's Gotham. Damn, this place gets more like home everyday.
[Another, slightly more awkward pause and he sighs, seemingly collecting his thoughts for round two. Too bad for him, another voice appears mysteriously over the comm.]
I thought you were done.
[There's another (very brief) pause and then a crash as the communicator hits the roof, followed by static. Red is Jason, Navy is ghost!Bruce. Replies will be ICly delayed as Jason just broke the screen on his communicator. Oops.]
The one redeeming value of ERs is that they give you time to read. I'm not normally Mister Positivity, but I can't fault them there. If they have to be so goddamn backed up with people trying to scam them for drugs, they at least make up for it with a good selection of magazines. Fortunately enough, I was in the position where I didn't really mind sitting and waiting for a while. Unlike the guy who game in half an hour after me with three of his fingers removed. And I thought my limbs suffered tonight. Anyway, my point in all this is that the reading material is pretty decent up at Lenox Hill. You should check it out sometime.
Anyway, I'm better at segues in text.
Turns out, despite our best efforts for this fair city, crime is on the rise. Stupid, boring, low-level crime, too. Jacking tires, of all things, which takes me back even more than the burning thing that happened earlier tonight. You see, when the local economy drops for whatever reason --for the sake of argument here we'll blame those Skrull things-- petty crime picks up. Tires make a pretty penny, are easily resold, and are virtually untraceable. Most tire thieves work in pairs, but trust me when I say it's not that hard to pull off by yourself. Even the locks on the wheels are easy to crack. And by crack, I mean literally chisel off. This type of theft requires absolutely no brain power, a kid or a trained monkey could do it. Perfect for your average goon, right?
Funny thing is, the article I found says that this kind of crime hasn't been widespread since the mid-80s. This is an alternate universe, sure, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only kid in Gotham who tried to lift a set or two well after that.
... But then that's Gotham. Damn, this place gets more like home everyday.
[Another, slightly more awkward pause and he sighs, seemingly collecting his thoughts for round two. Too bad for him, another voice appears mysteriously over the comm.]
I thought you were done.
[There's another (very brief) pause and then a crash as the communicator hits the roof, followed by static. Red is Jason, Navy is ghost!Bruce. Replies will be ICly delayed as Jason just broke the screen on his communicator. Oops.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I do not think it's normal to be so frustrated all the time.
The most similar human equivalents I have studied are:
Puberty
Premenstrual syndrome
Lacking hormones, I conclude that these conditions cannot be an appropriate explanation for my moods.
( ENCRYPTED TO: Charles Xavier )
The most similar human equivalents I have studied are:
Puberty
Premenstrual syndrome
Lacking hormones, I conclude that these conditions cannot be an appropriate explanation for my moods.
( ENCRYPTED TO: Charles Xavier )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[perched in a tree, his headtail twined around a branch, at least he's not super-zooming in on the feed now, but he's still a little clumsy with the comm as he starts]
According to the Network, today seems a day of fatherly veneration. [or ...vexation.]
So much of what I am, I owe to the faith my father had in me. From his example, I learned strength; the kind that bends, the kind that gives priority to the defenseless, the kind that stands again each time it falls. The kind that loves without reservation and without end. I was -- far from a perfect son, and I made many mistakes, but I hope that he was proud of me. [a momentary flicker of faltering, only brief. The transition is more certain.]
As a father myself, I realized what a great responsibility it was to guide young minds--and to be, in turn, guided by them. How much we all have to teach one another... [a quiet smile, and then he turns more serious]
It is my hope that, for those of you who had paternal love, its memory will sustain you until you are reunited. And for those of you who lacked that love, I pray you are able to release yourselves from the pain of regrets.
All will be well.
According to the Network, today seems a day of fatherly veneration. [or ...vexation.]
So much of what I am, I owe to the faith my father had in me. From his example, I learned strength; the kind that bends, the kind that gives priority to the defenseless, the kind that stands again each time it falls. The kind that loves without reservation and without end. I was -- far from a perfect son, and I made many mistakes, but I hope that he was proud of me. [a momentary flicker of faltering, only brief. The transition is more certain.]
As a father myself, I realized what a great responsibility it was to guide young minds--and to be, in turn, guided by them. How much we all have to teach one another... [a quiet smile, and then he turns more serious]
It is my hope that, for those of you who had paternal love, its memory will sustain you until you are reunited. And for those of you who lacked that love, I pray you are able to release yourselves from the pain of regrets.
All will be well.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So, uh. What sort of Father's Day card is best for an alternate universe version of one's father. Keeping in mind that you're not really close and everything before the entire deal with different universes.
And also that giving it to him personally is totally out of the question. So it's like-- his twin brother with less anger issues?
[ there's the sound of your generic drugstore going on in the background as the speaker is obviously contemplating cards. ]
Well okay, what about -- "This Father's Day - eat, drink, and be Murray"? I don't get it.
[ a groan, and the com switches off. she should have gotten Jen to come with her. this is a disaster. ]
And also that giving it to him personally is totally out of the question. So it's like-- his twin brother with less anger issues?
[ there's the sound of your generic drugstore going on in the background as the speaker is obviously contemplating cards. ]
Well okay, what about -- "This Father's Day - eat, drink, and be Murray"? I don't get it.
[ a groan, and the com switches off. she should have gotten Jen to come with her. this is a disaster. ]
[Video; Backdated to around 3:10 am]
Jun. 17th, 2012 04:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Okay...
[Joel is looking pretty freaked out at the moment. He's also got a pretty bad nosebleed going on. Judging by the bruise already forming there, something hit him. Just in his boxers, he looks over his shoulder quickly before turning his attention to the comm in hand.]
What the hell is going on here? I just got attacked by...by...I don't know. There's no way he could be...or that he would...
[Joel runs and hand through his hair as he tries to calm down. Noticing that he's bleeding, he wipes it away carefully.]
There you are, Joel.
[The voice makes Joel tense and go paler than he had been. He turns quickly and the camera gets a glimpse of the ghostly form of Oren Weinberg floating through a wall.]
Running away like that was very rude. Is that all you're good at? Running?
Stay the hell away from me! There's no way you're real! You can't be!
[Oren just shakes his head before picking up a chair and throwing it Joel's way. Joel speeds out of the way, the picture going blurry before settling again. Now he's across the room.]
This...this just can't be happening.
[The feed is cut as the ghost turns towards Joel again.]
((OOC: Black text is Joel. Greenish text is his ghost dad.))
[Joel is looking pretty freaked out at the moment. He's also got a pretty bad nosebleed going on. Judging by the bruise already forming there, something hit him. Just in his boxers, he looks over his shoulder quickly before turning his attention to the comm in hand.]
What the hell is going on here? I just got attacked by...by...I don't know. There's no way he could be...or that he would...
[Joel runs and hand through his hair as he tries to calm down. Noticing that he's bleeding, he wipes it away carefully.]
There you are, Joel.
[The voice makes Joel tense and go paler than he had been. He turns quickly and the camera gets a glimpse of the ghostly form of Oren Weinberg floating through a wall.]
Running away like that was very rude. Is that all you're good at? Running?
Stay the hell away from me! There's no way you're real! You can't be!
[Oren just shakes his head before picking up a chair and throwing it Joel's way. Joel speeds out of the way, the picture going blurry before settling again. Now he's across the room.]
This...this just can't be happening.
[The feed is cut as the ghost turns towards Joel again.]
((OOC: Black text is Joel. Greenish text is his ghost dad.))
["accidental" video]
Jun. 17th, 2012 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[The scene is outdoors, a forest somewhere— dark, but not too dark to see by. There is a monster, hulking and brutish, looming over Loki, and for once Loki seems small by comparison. The horns are off, and his body language is much more shaken.]
You have failed to avenge me. I lie rotting and my sword lays undrawn.
No, father— you are large, and you are strong, but the quality of mercy is larger and stronger still.
[The brute raises his arms, preparing to strike. Loki's arms are likewise raised, but in defense, and not in anger.]
You are one of them, now!
[Now, Loki saw this "haunting" as a nuisance at first, and then realized he could play it for sympathy. He would give the network a glimpse at his wretched origin and score some "he's not evil, he's just misunderstood" points. But at this moment and with those words, Loki's composure slips, just a bit, and true anger spikes his words.]
I will never be one of them.
[The feed cuts out. Replies will be ICly delayed.]
You have failed to avenge me. I lie rotting and my sword lays undrawn.
No, father— you are large, and you are strong, but the quality of mercy is larger and stronger still.
[The brute raises his arms, preparing to strike. Loki's arms are likewise raised, but in defense, and not in anger.]
You are one of them, now!
[Now, Loki saw this "haunting" as a nuisance at first, and then realized he could play it for sympathy. He would give the network a glimpse at his wretched origin and score some "he's not evil, he's just misunderstood" points. But at this moment and with those words, Loki's composure slips, just a bit, and true anger spikes his words.]
I will never be one of them.
[The feed cuts out. Replies will be ICly delayed.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[The communicator abruptly turns on. Though video is reeling, the only thing visible is the thick foot of a mahogany desk fitted over a patch of green carpet. The bolting shots of gunfire bullets over the audio. Three shots, a pause, then two. All patternless, erratic and emotional.]
Sonuva bitch! [A low baritone. Salty and slurred syllables.]
Apt, wouldn't you say? [Edward's voice, wholly recognizable and haggard with emotion. Another shot, the sound of wood splintering.] Or are we talking about mother?
[Low, heavy laughter -- distinct from anything Eddie's ever chuckled, and yet the sound has a similar sneer in it. An undeniable relation, a cold link.]
Pathetic. Always aimed for the nads when you couldn't hit the face. Ain't that right, Ed?
[Eddie empties the cartridge into (what sounds like) a bookcase. Hard, thudding wood, fluttering paper exploding into bits.]
You sad, little piece of shit.
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
[A crash, a crunch. The communicator whacks into the baseboard of a wall before turning off.]
ooc || replies will be icly delayed by half an hour, when eddie realizes his communicator has betrayed him!! because of auto replay!!
Sonuva bitch! [A low baritone. Salty and slurred syllables.]
Apt, wouldn't you say? [Edward's voice, wholly recognizable and haggard with emotion. Another shot, the sound of wood splintering.] Or are we talking about mother?
[Low, heavy laughter -- distinct from anything Eddie's ever chuckled, and yet the sound has a similar sneer in it. An undeniable relation, a cold link.]
Pathetic. Always aimed for the nads when you couldn't hit the face. Ain't that right, Ed?
[Eddie empties the cartridge into (what sounds like) a bookcase. Hard, thudding wood, fluttering paper exploding into bits.]
You sad, little piece of shit.
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
[A crash, a crunch. The communicator whacks into the baseboard of a wall before turning off.]
ooc || replies will be icly delayed by half an hour, when eddie realizes his communicator has betrayed him!! because of auto replay!!
#6 ● video; backdated to 8am
Jun. 17th, 2012 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I'm only gonna say this one more time.
[Hi City! Look, it's Yuma, arms akimbo and frustration pulling at his face. He's got his silly green visor thing over one eye, and his hair is just as... his hair... as ever. He appears to be standing on his living room's coffee table; behind him, Tweema the cockatoo is in hot pursuit of the ghost of a man much older than Yuma. He's in the default Adventurer Style of clothing, down to the Indiana Jones-style hat -- though that he's holding against his chest as he runs, so he doesn't lose it. The ghost and the bird disappear from the frame on the right side, but return on the left in only a short break. It appears they are circling Yuma on the table.
While this dizzying chase goes on the the background, interspersed with the man calling out criticisms (You've lost sight of your goals!) and Tweema screeching to interrupt him, Yuma tugs at his pink bangs, and then flailingly points at the ghost as it runs behind him.
And yeah, there's some pretty obvious familiar resemblance between that man and Yuma -- down to the pink pointy bangs and the much darker, spiky hair in the back.]
Y'see? It's totally, totally natural! I don't have to do anything to it to make it look like this, okay?! It is not fake! Or weird! At all!!
Now you all can just shut up about it, alright?!
[and with that Yuma hangs up in a huff.]
[Hi City! Look, it's Yuma, arms akimbo and frustration pulling at his face. He's got his silly green visor thing over one eye, and his hair is just as... his hair... as ever. He appears to be standing on his living room's coffee table; behind him, Tweema the cockatoo is in hot pursuit of the ghost of a man much older than Yuma. He's in the default Adventurer Style of clothing, down to the Indiana Jones-style hat -- though that he's holding against his chest as he runs, so he doesn't lose it. The ghost and the bird disappear from the frame on the right side, but return on the left in only a short break. It appears they are circling Yuma on the table.
While this dizzying chase goes on the the background, interspersed with the man calling out criticisms (You've lost sight of your goals!) and Tweema screeching to interrupt him, Yuma tugs at his pink bangs, and then flailingly points at the ghost as it runs behind him.
And yeah, there's some pretty obvious familiar resemblance between that man and Yuma -- down to the pink pointy bangs and the much darker, spiky hair in the back.]
Y'see? It's totally, totally natural! I don't have to do anything to it to make it look like this, okay?! It is not fake! Or weird! At all!!
Now you all can just shut up about it, alright?!
[and with that Yuma hangs up in a huff.]
016 -- video;
Jun. 17th, 2012 09:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[ there's an awkward silence to start, full of feet shuffling and throatclearing. johnny's sitting on the roof of the mac, hunched into his jacket. it's obvious he's uncomfortable, guilty even, and his gaze skitters away from the lens, looking everywhere but there. ]
So um. My dad's been around. I escaped, I think, but he keeps finding me. At home I could just fly away when he was hassling me but...
[ he hesitates, and then distantly comes a shout of johnny! accompanied by a full body flinch from johnny himself. ]
Shit.
[ and the feed cuts out. ]
So um. My dad's been around. I escaped, I think, but he keeps finding me. At home I could just fly away when he was hassling me but...
[ he hesitates, and then distantly comes a shout of johnny! accompanied by a full body flinch from johnny himself. ]
Shit.
[ and the feed cuts out. ]
terry's day-long freak out
Jun. 17th, 2012 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
( Filtered to Max )
( Filtered to Dr. Crane )
[ ENCRYPTED FROM CALENDAR MAN, SCARECROW (posted an hour or three after midnight, from the Batcomm) ]
So-- that sure was. Festive.
[a pause] There are seventeen of us?
( Filtered to Dr. Crane )
[ ENCRYPTED FROM CALENDAR MAN, SCARECROW (posted an hour or three after midnight, from the Batcomm) ]
So-- that sure was. Festive.
[a pause] There are seventeen of us?