tushanshu | Entries tagged with † jack harkness

[Anyone who's stopped by Jack's place, where Rose had been staying, since the 27th has been greeted a closed, locked door, and complete silence. No answer. No one has come out. No communication whatsoever has come from within. That's changing now. Jack appears on the screen, smiling widely. To someone who doesn't know him ~~very~~ well, it probably even looks genuine.]

Looks like I might've missed a couple visitors the past few days. Sorry if you stopped by, I've been a bit busy; seemed like time to rearrange the place a little. Bachelor's pad is more my style anyway.

[ 100% Encrypted | Private to Jim Kirk ]
[The grin is still in evidence here, if a bit more cracked, wider. Impossible, really.] How does a night at the bar sound?

[ 100% Encrypted | Private to Clara Oswald ]
[His face is blank. Seemingly calm, quiet.] I know you were close with Rose. I'm sorry. She has a lot ahead of her still. A lot of good. [And a lot of bad, but she doesn't need to know that.]

[ 100% Encrypted | Private to Kyle Rayner ]
[He wears a blank mask here. He's seen Kyle's comment on the network, and there's the tiniest trace of guilt to his tone.] I'm sorry. She's gone.

[ 100% Encrypted | Private to the Doctor ]
[The smile's gone. His face blank, tense, tight. Only the slightest twitching at the corners of his lips gives any indication to how truly upset hs is.] She's gone, Doc. Just like your younger self. She disappeared, overnight. I don't know what- [And there's a pause, before the word is almost spit out, with the barest trace of bitter, anger,] purpose she might have served, but- it's over now.

grayatonement

[Sylar turns on the console. Before the screen is a man who looks nothing like Sylar himself. Instead, he sits in a full suit with horn-rimmed glasses adorning his very Jack Coleman-like appearance. When he addresses the camera, it's confident, professional, and direct.]

My name is Noah Bennet. I'm an Agent in a very specialized division of Homeland Security within the United States Government.

If anyone here knows anything about.. potentially extraordinary individuals, or works with the U.S. government, I'd like to speak to you.

Thank you.

parallels

[So it's terribly late in the night. Around 3 am when Clara sits at her console and decides to record a message to the network. At first she considers being anonymous, this sort of question isn't something she's comfortable putting out there. It's a little too vulnerable for her tastes, but sometimes need outweighs comfort.

So here goes. She tries to flatten her tousled hair and rub the sleep out of her eyes for a bit before she speaks but it doesn't really improve her exhausted appearance.]

So nightmares. I've got them and they've knocked me on my arse like a bad flu.

You know the sort: nasty, terrifying, wake up in a cold sweat yelling, and reoccurring. The sort that are about complicated personal things that happened. Can't imagine I'm the only one out there who ever dealt with it. So, I'll take advice, stories, anecdotes, whatever you've got if it means I can kick this nasty thing..

I think my neighbors would also appreciate any sort of advice or cure. We're both likely missing sleeping like normal people.

elevenoutoften

Hello Tu Vishan! Hope you're all doing well. You'll have to forgive me, I'm sort of new here so expect a few potential technical difficulties. Do not adjust your sets. [Or desktoppy console thingies.] Now, I really do hope someone out there is listening to this or else I'm going to look awfully daft talking to myself. Not that I don't ever talk to myself or like to, I'm brilliant company actually. Only downside is that it can get a little boring.

If you do feel like saying hello, that'd be nice. Don't be shy, I'm lovely. Or so I'm told anyway.

[The man in the centre of the video is a rather odd looking chap with a goofy smile plastered on his face, just rambling away. And yes, he could go on all night. He leans back a bit to get as much as himself into frame as possible, red bowtie just managing to get a tiny bit of screen time. Just wasn't right if it didn't.]

I think someone out there has been sneaking a peak at my Christmas list. A mysterious and unexplainable trip to an island on the back of a giant turtle in the middle of nowhere? Oh, it's just brilliant. Suspected intergalactic kidnapping aside, this is definitely my kind of place. Perfect for shenanigans. I do love shenanigans. Especially the word. She-nan-i-gans.

[Always did roll off his tongue near perfectly. Apt word for his constant misadventures.]

But back onto the topic of this whole kidnapping issue. Anyone I can speak to about that? I have a few grievances that were overlooked during the induction period. Not too crazy about being taken against my will, sort of spoils the whole journey. And it's made me misplace my transport.

Speaking of, that's actually why I'm on here in the first place. Has anyone seen a blue box? Very big, looks like an old police call box, can be grumpy on off days. Answers to the name TARDIS. Or Sexy.

[The peculiar man sort of looks off camera with that last word, tweaking his bowtie with an awkward air. What? She totally does answer to that.]

All help finding her is appreciated. Just be sure to let me know.

asouthron

[ McCoy does his best to look dignified despite the terrible and shameful embarrassment he feels inside having to publicly announce this ridiculous emergency. It doesn't help matters that his desk is covered in soft, cute little creatures that are softly trilling all around. ]

This is Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise. [ Yes, he's emphasizing that just so people take his warnings seriously as a highly-esteemed medical professional! And his affiliation with Jim can't hurt. Or can it? Oh God how many people actually like James T. Kirk? Shit Shiiit! ]

As some of you may have noticed, there's been a... contaminate leak in the Fire Sector. A foreign body escaped its... confines [ Fridge ] and has started multiplyin' at an excessive rate. [ And by excessive, he means the world is literally exploding with furballs. ] For those of you not in the Sector, they look like this [ He dutifully points to the puffballs on his desk. ]

Don't be alarmed! They're extremely docile, but in an unfamiliar and stressful environment, they begin to breed rapidly. Our Science Officer has calculated that they breed about every twelve hours [ 11.784 hours, but like hell McCoy is giving Spock the satisfaction of accurate fractions! ], producing anywhere from 8 to 12 at a time. Anyone with any kinda math skill can see that's a huge damn problem!

The best way to keep those furbags from eatin' you outta house and home and food is puttin' 'em on ice. It won't kill 'em, but it'll stop reproduction and slow down their life cycle.

If you have any questions, contact me or any StarFleet officer nearest you [ McCoy, Spock, or Jim will be more than happy to be assaulted by your questions. ]

McCoy out.

((ooc: For more information on the event, character plots, questions, or concerns, check out the OOC coordination post here ))

pandoricas

[Hello residents of turtleland, have one (1) Rory Willams looking at you through these console things. He's looking decisively uncertain about this, possibly wondering if making this post is even a good idea in the first place, considering one name he saw on the list...

But well, he's already started the recording, so stopping it now is kind of redundant. Rory gives another unsure look through the screen for a moment more before he pointedly clears his throat and starts to speak.]

Uh... hello, I guess. My name's Rory, I used to be a nurse from Leadworth, and I'm... married.

[Yeah, good job there Rory. Real smooth. Can you see how out of his depth he feels right now?]

So, um. From what I understand, we're not-dead... and on a giant turtle. [Quiet mutter at this point.] Why a giant turtle? Space whales are one thing, but... [Trailing off here for a moment now, as if lost in some other thought entirely, but Rory quickly shakes himself off it and focuses back on the video again.] I guess not being dead is good. I mean, it's not fun being dead. I don't like being dead.

[Rory, you're not making things better for yourself.]

Anyway--hello, I guess? Looks like I'm going to be stuck here no matter what, so I suppose its nice to meet the rest of you who are stuck here too. [Beat.] Here's to being stuck together? Or something like that.

faceofbeau

[The video feed pops on to the sight of a dashing- if he might say so himself- man in his seeming mid-thirties, grinning widely at the camera; he has a somewhat period look about him, dressed in a button up, suspenders, and a greatcoat that speaks of war, but there's a spark in his gaze that speaks of mischief. After all, he's taken some time to read through recent activity on the network, and he's come across one very familiar name. It's a name he had not expected to hear again for some time, but if the tone of his voice when he calls it out is any indication, he's not disappointed in the least.]

Rose Tyler: what's a beautiful girl like you doing stuck in a place like this? [Jack gives a cheerful laugh, his grin stretching wide across his face.] It's been awhile. What do you say, you, me, a little celebration for our reunion?

[His eyes all but twinkle, and then he speaks again, addressing not Rose this time, but everyone else.] As for the rest of you; Captain Jack Harkness. [One hand raises in a half salute.] At your service. I'm sure it'll be a pleasure to meet each and every one of you. Until then, I'd love to hear more about this place, this- "In Between" business.

neverginger

[A device clicks on, and a face appears on the network: a thin one with a large nose and brown messy hair. And glasses. Needs the glasses to see, you know. He grins, all teeth.]

Alright, then, this is neat, isn't it!

[He's not really saying that to anyone in particular. Don't worry, happens all the time. You'll know if he's speaking to you directly. Most likely.]

Never seen this before. Well, seen things like it, but nothing's ever quite the same in two places, yeah? Bit rubbish that everything in here's made of wood, makes my screwdriver a bit obsolete, but still...

[He laughs, and steps back from the device, standing with his hands on his hips. He's in his suite in the Wood Sector. Pretty nice place, if you ignore the lack of sonic-ing abilities.]

Right. So. I'm the Doctor, just the Doctor, thank you, and I suppose I was brought here, same as all of you. Now who's got something interesting to tell me about their time here?

[A pause, and time to ruminate over a question that's been in his mind since he got here.]

And does anyone know what this planet's base is? Doesn't seem like most other ones. A bit harder, strange in places. What's it made from?

ex_capt410

[Hello hello Jack is greeting all of you lovely post-waterlogged people with a salute and a smile. For the so inclined, you might notice the backdrop has changed a little - because he's not in his flat. He is in fact posting from the Doctor's computer.]

Has there been a damage assessment from the storm yet? Property, businesses, people? If anyo-

[ But whoever could this be? In the background, those watching may spy the familiar face of the Doctor. Except instead of his usual tweed and bowtie, he's wrapped in a blanket and not looking quite as energetic as usual for anyone familiar with him. ]

-- Jack. Something feels off.

[ ...something being the mauve tinge his face currently has.

Come round, everyone. Thus begins the wonderful story of "Captain Jack hears an achoo!"

In which Jack turns around to witness said mauve, trailing off and forgetting whatever he was talking about.]

Doctor? ...You're purple.

Mauve, actually. And it's really quite concerning.
My hands are all clammy and my forehead feels like burning.

I liked you better pink. --Are you sick? Can you get sick?

That's only on Wednesdays and no, that's rubbish. I really can't be sure, I need a celery stick.

Are you channeling Dr. Seuss? What did you get into now?

I feel just okay, I feel just fine. If you don't believe me, come see how -- [ and conveniently cut off by a sneeze. ]

I'm simultaneously confused and grossed out. You need to lay down. And stop talking.

Nonsense, Jack. It's not all that shocking. It was barely a sneeze. Look, I'm still walking! [ aaannnnndd now he's not because irony has him flopping down at that very moment. ]

Well, at least he laid down. ...Doctor? Doctor-

[woops time to cut that recording off]

(ooc: blue is jack, purple is the doctor)

agentdork

[ Hey, look, it's a wild York. He's grinning like a fucking dweeb, adjusting this godawful, godawful tiara on top of his head, looking like it started out metal and plain but somehow sparkles and sequins had been hastily glued to it, and when he reaches a hand up to adjust it, his hand is sparkly, too. ]

Gooood evening, beautiful people. It's another uneventful day here, and as I'm the poor loser of a bet gone horribly wrong, "God"-- or Kara, for those of you less religiously inclined, has decided since she wiped the floor with me in cards, that I gotta make good on my end of the bet.

Let it never be said I don't hold up my end of the bargain, but also, she's a friggin' shark, so I wouldn't recommend playing against her unless you like losin' all your money, or, y'know. Tiaras. In which case I got one right here for you.

But anyway. As the floor-wiping did happen, I gotta say that yours truly likes long walks on the turtle's edge, cuddly puppies, and the color pink. In more serious news, I'm also a pretty big fan of burgers and fries, football, Grifball, guns, and pizza, just to kind of try and save some of my masculinity here, since Kara-- uh, "God" has decided I'm not really able to keep it right now.

I feel like it's worth askin'- do we even have a sports team here? Does anyone play football or anything, or would anyone be up for it?

[ And with that same doofy grin, he waves, and shuts the whole thing off, because, welp, HE FULFILLED HIS END OF THE BARGAIN, kara. 8( ]

ex_capt410

[Jack's taken some time to familiarize himself with the workings of the network before posting and so when he does it's devoid of any 'so how does this work' business. Say hello to his beautiful face gracing your respective screens pls&thx]

Humans. The only species that could wake up in purgatory and promptly start a community of v-loggers.

[He remarks on it fondly, and even though he's clearly human himself it seems as though he's coming from an outsider's perspective. Also, the way he says "vlogger" is reminiscent of the way hip old people try to keep up with the newfangled kid slang, like he knows what it's supposed to mean but he still says it awkwardly.]

Anyway, now that the commotion has died down, just checking in to make sure everyone made it out intact.

[Hasn't seen any lists of deceased or injured or public lamenting so his guess is on yes, but never hurts to make sure.]

And to get an idea from our more street wise residents who and where I should steer clear of. New town, new faces, lots to learn. Captain Jack Harkness, by the way. And you all are?

tendnottoweep

[ In the flickering lights of her suite in the Fire Sector, Natasha's looking tired and worn, in that very controlled, almost blank-faced superspy way. She's also dead serious, and dressed in her SHIELD uniform - those of you who've met "Nicole", this is by no means the same woman, never mind that the face and hair haven't changed. ]

Commander Evandau. I hate to break it to you, but things are less under control than you know. I understand I don't have the authority to do this any longer - you're welcome to come and arrest me afterwards, if you like.

[ There's the barest hint of a smile, a silent good luck, if he wants to try, and then her position shifts a little, straightens into a quiet air of command, and she goes on. ]

I've spent the last week following a gang calling themselves the Black Kirin. They were responsible for the attempted assassination at the festival last month, and tonight they're planning to sever one of the turtle's flippers with explosives. I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't want to find out what happens when the only thing keeping us above the water gets hurt... or killed.

We have four hours until the bombs go off - anyone who wants to help me stop this, meet me at FI-1A [ yeah, Steve, she's volunteering your place ] as soon as you can get there, and I'll tell you everything I know. Anyone with any military or martial arts training, experience with explosives... even strong swimmers would be of use. This isn't going to be easy.

ironwood

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