scorched, posts by tag: freya - LiveJournal

I've looked everywhere I can for Gabriel Gray - or Sylar, if that's what he was going by here - and I can't find him. So either one of you idiots kidnapped him and forgot to send a ransom note, or he found a way home just like Suresh did. And didn't bother telling me he was looking. Just thought anyone he might've befriended would want to know.

Also, does anyone know where I can get a Slush-O around here? I've been going through some serious withdrawals ever since my basket stopped supplying me with them.

So.... this monster in the ruins.

I gotta wonder if it's anything like the toothy thing I saw out in the mist a couple weeks ago. Cause if it is... boy, warning flier is right. Nasty thing to run into if it's near the city.

I was calling it a land shark... but it might be more of a.... flying shark.

[snorting laughter and Trickster shakes his head]

Maybe it ate Dean. Sharks aren't known to be picky eaters.

[The first thing that appears on the screen is a flash of black and white that draws closer and closer before the screen is a blur. And then the screen is suddenly filled with pink, rising from the bottom up as if by the stroke of a brush.

There's a soft chuckle from the background--those that are most familiar with it might be able to place the voice. The blurry view zooms out just enough to reveal the face of some furry animal (the pink being a tongue), before it is swathed in black again.

The lens is wiped off carefully, and now on the screen the youngish-looking man with black hair and aqua eyes is visible on the screen, holding a small brown-and-white puppy with floppy ears that is likely familiar to some very particular people.]

Roy Mustang, right? I think I found your dog. [Kaien holds her up to the screen so she can be seen a little more closely.] Is this her?

[And then he grins, looking up at the sky as the snow falls in gentle little flakes.]

Winter again already, huh?

I first arrived here during the during the winter, two years ago. It's almost hard to believe I'm coming on my third one here.

Sorry I haven't been around much in awhile. I've been kind of...preoccupied lately.

[With a certain sick captain. But Ukitake has been recovering, which has Kaien back in his regular good humor and ready to be social again.]

To the newcomers, hello, and welcome to Anatole! My name is Kaien Shiba, and I look forward to meeting all of you. If you need anything to help you settle in, please don't hesitate to ask.

Getting used to this place can be tough, but it's not all bad. And most of us "Scorched" do everything we can to look out for each other and make it easier to adjust. So keep your chin up! We get through this place together. Maybe someday you'll even come to think of it as a second home.

The baskets have stopped giving and the first snow has touched the ground. My lord father, with the help of my siblings and others, started preparing for this some time ago. But there have been many new arrivals and we should redouble our efforts while we still can.

Anyone is welcome to join me for hunting or sparring. I don't know that the monsters will come into the city, but I do know that they're out there. If anyone goes hunting on their own, you can bring the furs to my brother, Bran. If anyone needs a warm cloak, you can also see him.

I've been told that the winter only lasts a few months here. But it doesn't take that long to freeze or starve to death.

[This cheerful little public service announcement has been brought to you by Jon Snow and the letter 'B'.]

[So here's Nate, coming in and hauling a small load of goodies when his Forge drops.]

Damn it, stupid thing...

[But it lands next to the innocent-looking basket, which he wonders how it got there in the first place. Of course he opens it, and he's very surprised to find food. A lot of it. Real stuff too, the kind he'd gotten used to eating at cantinas and crappy-looking shacks but have a deceptively impressive and equally delicious selection of food.

There's also beer. He sits cross-legged next to the basket, taking out the plates when it sort of starts refilling itself...? No, not sort of, it did refill itself. He grabs the Forge and realizes it's been playing the whole time.]

A guy could get used to this kind of treatment! Oh, yeah, welcome to Anatole, land of the living dead and killer Mist.

[Yeah, it's Helen, looking as comfortable as usual with her feet propped up on a table. She has an apple in her hand, one bite taken from it and more in between her words.]

These baskets again, huh. Guess that means business is gonna be a little on the slow side of few days. Can't really blame people for not wanting to buy booze when they have a bottle that fills itself up for free.

Oh, for anyone that the Door just spit out, I'm Helen. I run the bar that Sis mentioned. Very first drink's on the house. I figured you could use it. And don't worry, I'm working on that dangerous thing.

[A bit of smirk. She's working in the wrong direction, actually.]

But it's still safer than the Arena.

[Which really isn't saying much. Sob.]

Speaking of entertainment...all you newcomers. Who's ever heard of karaoke?

[Bap. Bap. Whap. The Forge is turned on apparently by a swatting white paw which continues to slap the lens around for another moment before the animal beating up the Forge retreats, apparently to regroup. She’s a very young black and white cat, still a kitten really, and she hunkers down a foot or so away from the Forge, staring it down.

Behind her sits her owner. Verity has a very large book open on the desk and she’s reading it intently, a pen and paper in hand as she takes notes. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn’t really notice that the little cat has declared war on her Forge. She mumbles something to herself – the word ‘Venefictus’ can just be made out – and continues her studies.

The cat, however, is not interested in the book at all. She has decided that perhaps she should try to be nice to the Forge to lull it into a false sense of security. She rubs her little head against the speakers and a very small purr – more of a purrlet, really, since it’s so little – can be heard. The carries on for a moment or two before she regards the Forge with clear grey-green eyes and hauls off and attacks it again, all flailing kitten limbs and frantic energy. She’s so zealous in her attack that she knocks the both of them – the Forge and herself – of the edge of the desk and onto the floor.]

Penwiper?

[The sound of a chair being pulled out follows Verity’s concerned voice and her face appears on the Forge a moment later. She picks the kitten up off the floor and cradles her.]

Silly cat. I’m sure the Forge can’t have done anything to provoke you.

[She smiles indulgently at the cat before reaching to pick up her Forge and noticing that, oops, it’s recording.]

Oh, I’m sorry.

[She laughs a little and shakes her head apologetically.]

I’ll just have to restrict her Forge privileges from now on, I suppose.

[Another bright (if slightly embarrassed) smile for the network and the feed ends.]

I admit to having been reluctant in asking of this, but it truly is... disconcerting, and I am not at all certain whether this is normal in this world. But it is better to obtain as much information as possible, in situations where one can do so.

[He knows he is dithering, so he just comes out with it.] If anyone in this place has, ah, unusual abilities--that are perhaps not so very unusual in the worlds they come from!--have you noticed any ways in which they have... changed, since your arrival here? And if so, and there are others from your world here as well, have these abilities changed in decidedly different ways for them?

[Muttering,] This is utterly illogical, this should not be happening...

[ It's well after midnight. The camera feed is a mess of black and grey, the Forge screen the only illumination. It turns Arthur's face sickly, throws unusual shadows across it. His voice is low. ]

Tell me a story.

[ There aren't many left familiar with the way he demands this in bored, petulant tones. ]

About someone you lost.

[ An afterthought: ]

Please.

...um. Has anyone seen... Zack?

[A long pause.]

I normally have more to say than this.

...Isley, can we talk? Oh! Not about anything bad.