tushanshu | Entries tagged with † annie leonhart

[The feed cracks on with a rather tense looking woman, staring at you all.]

It seems I've arrived at the end of something major.

[Her tone is a little on the weary side, frustration seeping into her words whether she intends it or not.]

Tell me then, what exactly are we dealing with here? All explanations thus far have been a little lacking in detail. The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner I can get back to my own work.

[A beat.]

Is everyone alright? If we're going to be stuck in this together, checking as much seems a good start.

beardedflannel

[ How long has it been since he last sat at a working computer? Twenty some odd years now? Joel stares down at the keyboard. It shouldn't be that hard to get working, he knows there's a power button somewhere on the damn thing.

The last thing he remembers using was his cell phone, even then his memory is hazy on the brand and size. He almost doesn't remember what it had looked like, what he'd had on it or the list of its contacts.

Dammit--focus. Gotta find her. Figure out what the hell is goin' on.

A deep breath.

The device is powered up, and it takes a solid minute for the screen to show up, his eyes roaming over the icons on the screen as if trying to remember what is what. There's got to be some way he can use this to get in touch with someone - anyone. With her. If she's even here, he reminds himself. Which seems impossible given what he last remembers happening before blacking out. ]

This on? [ Joel wonders where the microphone is, but what does it matter. He should be able to speak and it should pick up his voice no problem. ] Am I gettin' through here to anyone?

[ Fuck it. ]

Look- [ Heaves out a heavy and impatient sigh. On edge. Old nerves wrought with anxiety he's trying real hard to keep bottled in. ] -I'm lookin' for a young girl. Just over five feet, has a scar on her right brow, brown-red hair in a ponytail, sorta past her shoulders. She'll be wearin' a faded jacket and a gray shirt with a backpack on her back. [ Or was last he'd been with her. ]

She's got one helluva mouth on her too, you can't - Christ--you can't miss her.

[ Like hell will he mention her name on a network of strangers, though, even if it would benefit him more in the end than anything else.

Joel tries to keep his voice steady; he can't afford to break apart on some foreign network. To strangers. Keep it together, keep it together. But if someone tells him they haven't seen her--he might just slip up and lose it. ]

If she's here - then where?

puppetfetish

_{[ Evening. Here is Bro Strider again with a very important announcement. It's pretty important, considering the guy is actually wearing something that is fucking formal looking. His typically spiked, platinum hair is combed neatly and swept to the side, and he is lacking his hat. The light is low.. and.. was a bouquet of flowers..? Yeah, that's right— looks like red roses.
Don't worry. He's not trying to seduce you... I don't think. (??????) ]}

Yo.
Valentine's Day is right 'round the corner. That means absolute bullshit to me other than the fact that business boomed back home for me at this time of year.
Jesus fucking dicksacks.
Do people got nothin' better to do on Valentine's Day besides fucking each other? Pretty fitting. I ain't complainin' too much if it brings in the Benjamin Franklins for me, but for real.

_{[ He lowers his pointed shades for a moment just to wink. Oh, so that's his eye color. It's a really unusual orange. ]}

Been workin' on some stuff in my spare time. Like this— this— not to mention this.

_{[ As he says each item, he holds them up with the most vacant expression, peering over each item then tossing it aside. Yeah, you're right. This was the guy a few weeks ago who was hunting for a fist to fist fight... and now he's displaying risque looking clothing. ]}

Other various things I probably shouldn't show on the public network even though ya'll would get a kick outta'm.
Contact me for any more information.

By the way— anybody got any information on the brothels 'round here? Any information at all is helpful.
Got my own reasons why.

_{[ With that, he gently takes one of the roses and bites the stem, holding it in his mouth for a moment before cutting the video.
Listen, it could have been worse. He almost wore some of his items and put himself on display. ]}

wrathfulkhan

[Gene turns on the feed and is about to speak. He opens his mouth to say something, and then, quite suddenly - there is a large amount of snow coating his hair. And half the inside of his suite. Among the snow is a vast collection of random junk, including some Angry Birds robots and other things people may recognize as once belonging to an absentee trickster god.

Also there's a bloodhound. A bloodhound which is rolling around in the snow and saying indistinct things about entrails and murder. Standard stuff, really, for a bloodhound.

Gene closes his mouth, whatever he was about to say forgotten in the wake of this new fuckery. He looks back, taking in the scene behind him for a good five seconds, and turns back to the camera, his face a mask of utter, dangerous calm.]

Loki...

[He takes a deep breath. The mask of calm shatters when he yells:]

...what the fuck?!

naismith

[A man appears on the network of indeterminate age, extremely short-- under five feet tall, easily-- with a slight hunch to his posture and Germanic features. His eyes are sharply alive, bright with challenge. There's no hesitation as he speaks, in a gravelly kind of accent that sounds almost Russian, the words flowing quickly as he makes them up on the spot.

Right now, he desperately needs intel of all kinds, and eventually a spotter to watch him while he uses his seizure inducer. That fact he's assiduously ignoring. He'd checked his neurotransmitter levels this morning, and he has at least three days, even with all the stress of arrival. No, four days, probably. Five. Really, he can go a lot longer without one than the ImpSec medical staff had given him credit for. --Focus, Vorkosigan.]

So. I see you all have quite a neat set up here. Let's not waste time. Who can bring me up to speed, ex tempore? Surely we have more intelligence than "don't say its name" on our bogey man. Since confirmed facts are likely to be scarce, personal accounts would be acceptable.

I'm also taking proposals for getting miserably drunk at the bar, as is traditional in times of drawn out peril. I need someone to drag me home, y'see; alcohol has quite a soporific effect on my constitution. [And Ivan is unfortunately not here to do the dragging. Miles ignores the resulting pang that inspires in him.

Then he hesitates imperceptibly, the memory of his previous catastrophic failure to report his seizures clanging loudly through his brain. No. He can't ignore this, much as he'd like to. The only thing that scares Miles more than never going home is turning into a vegetable, mindless and drooling. He can at least do the preliminary investigation about options.]

Information about local medical facilities would be appreciated as well. They're not all-- er, at this level of technology, are they? [He looks dubious about anyone surviving on that level of medical care, but immediately recovers with a wide, convincing smile.] I'd just like to know preemptively for when I wake up with a skull splitting headache.

myownbestfriend

[When last Emma graced the network, she had been looking for a salon, and either found one or is making do brilliantly, because she's as put together as ever, though this time her expression is more serious.]

It's come to my attention that the late Dr. Lecter was a psychiatrist. If any of his patients want to continue counseling, I'm a licensed therapist. [Sex therapy totally counts.] I don't actively practice anymore--I'm a schoolteacher--but I'd be willing to hold sessions if there's a need.

[She pauses and her expression gets a bit wry.]

It's entirely understandable if the man damaged anyone's opinion of the profession, but I assure you, we're not all serial killers.

[History of supervillainry and general manipulativeness aside, Emma is in fact a perfectly good therapist if she isn't trying to break up your marriage.]

puppetfetish

Sup, bitches.

_{[ Feed of Bro Strider again. Looks like the dude is still wearing his tailored leather jacket, but lacking his typical gray hat today, golden hair looking a complete mess. He runs the back of his palm over his nose, wrinkling it slightly before dropping his arm. His face, as usual, is exceptionally stoic, and as always, his pointed shades cover his eyes. ]}

—Thinking about picking a motherfucking smack down with some people who are interested in actually enhancing their fighting or defense abilities.
The catch...

_{[ He tilts his head up, then drums his fingers on his chin. ]}

—without any use of powers or abilities. Got a few of my own. Pinky-fucking-promise I won't use.
Non-projectile weapons are acceptable. Like swords.

If anyone wants to train with me, holla'.
Peace.

hisbabygirl

Hello..?

[Have yourself a twelve year old girl testing the water on the shiny new thing and mumbling to herself a little as she does.]

...I hope I'm doing this right.

[Oh right. The people can hear her. Sarah takes a deep breath and gets to talking.]

I uh, gotta say, this is some real crazy stuff going on. I don't even know where to start makin' sense of any of it. The Kedan people, the ones that work here? I think they work here. Live here? I dunno. They explained a lot of stuff but I'm still trying to wrap my head around even being here.

[Sarah pauses. When she speaks again it's with a little less certainty.]

Do they ever make mistakes with who they bring here? I'm not sure I'm the monster fighting type.

[Not real ones anyway.]

15104

[Russell looks markedly out of place in his scruffy, well darned clothes, against the clean, empty suite behind him. His hair is messy, falling a little into his eyes, which are wide and nervous. He's looking a little haggard, and still in shock.]

Uh. Yeah, so. They said this was like my own private radio or somethin'. Don't really have anything much to say... [he coughs.] I think I just got Shanghaied into fighting this war against, well. I can't say his name can I?

[He sighs and pushes his hair back off his face.]

I guess, if anyone needs any... there any industry on this. Turtle? [He sounds unsure.] Is that right? [Laughs]. This is stupid.

*CLICK*

neverdanced

[He needs to stop thinking that he's incapable of being surprised. By the end of the Battle of New York, Steve thought he had seen it all. Insane technology, other worlds, aliens... What else could there possibly be?

The answer, of course, is a giant turtle in a realm outside the continuity of time. He had a long chat about nearly everything with the locals that helped him earlier, but it's still crazy, and he probably wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen some of the turtle shell himself.

Yet here he is. It'll probably all sink in over time; Steve's been overloaded with so much information over the past few hours and it's exhausting, even for him.

Getting on the computer hadn't been his top priority, but he's already gone outside of his new home and back. Steve's experienced enough culture shock for today. He might as well at least reach out and introduce himself to all of the other people who wound up here like him.

Once he's got the computer up and running, he accesses the network using the video function. He looks a little stiff and probably as exhausted as he feels, but that's the least of his concerns right now.]

Hello. My name's Steve Rogers. The kedin- kedan? - brought me up to speed already, but I only just arrived here a few hours ago.

[Maybe longer than that. He hasn't exactly been keeping track of time. In any case, it's really jarring to be talking to a computer screen and not actually know who's on the other end.]

I have a couple questions that I'd like to have verified. [It doesn't necessarily mean he'll believe whatever he's told, but second opinions are typically useful.] We're all more or less stuck on this turtle, right? But there's a way back.

[That's a question as well, but it ends up sounding more like a statement. It sounds like a reasonable assumption. There obviously isn't a rush since no time is passing back home; he just wants to know.]

The other question I have is about jobs. Since it looks like I'll be here awhile, I'll start looking soon. Does anyone know which places are hiring offhand?

[He pauses for a moment before adding a 'thank you.']

ironwood

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