22 May 2013 @ 08:42 am
 
[ he feels like he was home and back here again in the blink of an eye. it's a little jarring, to say the least. but none of that shows. he hides his frazzled side well. one thing that he can't hide though is just how exhausted he is. not physically, no. but mentally, emotionally. being in the capitol - trapped, no less - and having to deal with... well, with everything. it's tiring. not that he really had the time to deal with any of that while he was home. he was there just long enough to get a clear reminder of where he was and what awaited him when he went back for good, though.

that's why there's also a hint of relief. or maybe it's more like a lot of relief and just a hint of exhaustion by comparison. well whatever the ratio, he can't hide, either, just how glad he is to be back here again
]

I don't understand what the point of sending me back to Panem was if I was just going to be brought right back here again. That is what happened, isn't it? I went home and came back?

[ he's almost afraid to ask, but ]

Was I the only one? From Panem to be sent back there, I mean.
 
 
21 May 2013 @ 07:50 am
[ Not an unusual sight, Arthur being melancholy. It's been all too common these past months. He might like to change that. ]

By Asgard's measures, I've been here over a year now - near two-hundred and thirty days, if I've kept count correctly. [ He has. ] In that time, I have witnessed ... a great many things. I've seen peasants turned Knight, Princes turned King, Kings laid to their eternal rest. I've watched my men come and go, some more than once with no recollection of their previous incarnations.

I've seen war ravage this land with no surety that any of us would see the light of another day. I've watched my friends die - some, more than once. More than twice. [ A pause. ] I've bid farewell to more friends than I care to count, all of whom returned to whatsoever awaits them in their realms without so much as a whisper. They will not remember us or our trials. They may never return. Like paying respects to a ghost.

[ He misses Conan. And Kate. Mary, Sora, Robb. Too many to count. More than he cares to count. He inhales. Exhales. ]

A dear friend once told me that you ought to eat ice cream with the ones you care about. He took me to a parlour in Freya on numerous occasions. [ Because he cared. Arthur had a brother, once. He breathes deep again, and tries for a small smile. ] You might find me there today, if you'd care. My treat - and I swear on my honour not to be maudlin all over you. It's a terribly unbecoming thing for a king.

[ Another pause, and he might've made this next bit private, but it sends a message to more than just one. ]

Merlin, I expect to find you there at some point or another in the day. [ Arthur Squishyface Pendragon. Do not be rude. ] If it please you.

[ Better. Sort of. He's trying! And he will be sitting at a table at said NPC ice cream parlour in Freya, contemplating what flavour he ought to try this time, if you'd like to stumble upon him or meet up with the lonely King! ]
 
 
18 May 2013 @ 02:08 pm
[Castiel is all business, as usual, in turning on the feed; he's broadcasting from his nice home in Freyr district, not actually at work at the moment, and he has his serious face on not that that's different from usual. His voice is even and clinical, but to those that know him well he sounds a bit more subdued than usual, lacking the normal underlying enthusiasm for the subjects he's about to discuss.]

When I was here before, I was working on a compilation of powers and detailed information on abilities, limitations, and uses for each of them at their different levels of strength. It is now outdated, but I would like to improve upon on it.

[There is an attached file, powers.txt, available for opening or download for those who want to view it.]

I am interested in hearing from anyone who has more information, even on entries that already contain details, and particularly on those that don't.

I am also interested in distribution of individuals among the houses. When I was here the first time, particularly in the first few days, Heimdall house vastly outmatched the others in terms of numbers. I am curious as to if that has changed, and how the balance stands now.

[So feel free to chime in with houses if you desire to share; he's curious, and collecting and analyzing the information will give him something to do. The public part of the feed ends there, as he switches to a private filter.]

[Filtered to Lancelot]

I apologize for never contacting you back. If you desire to practice your power, I am available at any time.

[Daphne's called him out of work for the next week, so he might as well do something, and he does feel bad about not getting back to Lancelot about this. As usual, he'd gotten distracted with the drama that is his life.]
 
 
07 May 2013 @ 02:29 am
Look-- I get that Gods really don't care about if we want to do something, but could they at least pick better timing? I guess if they have one thing going for them they're not as big of jerks Roman ones. Some Gods really have it out for me. Starting to think I should have ate those Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners when I had the chance. Take up a job at ROFL, nothing says fun like rainbows.

I mean I'll help, but this place doesn't look like it's under attack. The grey people are creepy, but I've seen weirder. They could be statues...

Anyway, great. So I'm here. Someone mind telling me where I can find a sword and a nice long bath? Something tells me I'm going to need it before this is all over.
 
 
 
01 May 2013 @ 12:47 am
[ the night is dark and full of terrors and for a moment, when her bracelet turns on, you cannot see anything before until she steps beneath a lighted torch. after being gray for so many days, she looks... disheveled and confused as delicate fingers run over the bracelet a few times, recognition slowly gracing her features, her face ashen.

while she's not completely helpless, nor is she completely a delicate flower, she is certainly not used to such a journey or treatment. it's clear it's taken it's toll on her as she looks down at her bracelet and speaks, softly, voice a little rough.]


Can anyone hear me? Is there anyone there?
 
 
18 April 2013 @ 09:59 pm
 [In the park there is a tree, and in that tree there now sits a small boy, tucked in the cradle of the thickest branch that is highest up before the boughs become too thin to hold his weight. Wrapped up in the folds of his cloak and settled in with a book, a pair of crudely made stuffed birds, and a small pouch of sweets, it is clear he is prepared for a long stay.] 

The elders of my people taught us of magic and of power... [He fiddles a bit with the paper crown stitched to one of the birds] taught us about what good and what evil power might bring.  

But it was my father did teach me that no power is more important than the love that keeps us together.... [A small hand reaches for the necklace around his neck and tugs it off with care, and with the same care he wraps it around the two toy birds] ...the love that binds us.

[He then settles the two in a fold of his green cloak before addressing his bracelet directly.]

I'll not come down until one among you shows you know this. 
 
 
I need to speak with whoever's in charge. These... Gods. They took something from me. Something very important, and I need to get it back.

[ She sounds nothing but resolved. Also kind of annoyed. ]

If anyone finds them, and they ask for who's looking, my name's Raven.

... Thanks.
 
 
03 April 2013 @ 12:27 am
[Inara doesn't usually use the audio function on her bracelet, but she's well aware that her appearance is less than perfect and at that moment, she just does not have it in her to take the extra energy to care.]

For those who knew him, Malcolm Reynolds has returned to our world. [She falls silent for a moment and takes a few deep breaths, steadying herself and desperately trying not to think about how she's there in Asgard by herself.]

That being said, Kate Beckett, I'm sorry to say that it will only be me who will be moving into the house with you.

[She clears her throat, and though it can't be seen, she rounds her shoulders, intent on getting through everything she wishes to say.]

While I'm still available to take on clients who wish to contract me as a Companion, I am hoping to obtain a small job on the side. I am trained in many things and would be quite a good book keeper if any one is in need of one. Please, contact me if you are.
 
 
[ Morgana looks awful. Though shame on you if you mention it to her. More tired looking than before, somehow. The gray disease took its toll on her. That does not mean, however, that she doesn't look regal, for she is. Head held high as if she is a queen on her very throne is the only way she will allow the city to see her. ]

Asgard.

No new magical flowers grown for my return? I am sourly disappointed. I was certain that the deities would have us all sing songs in matching rhymes after the forced kisses and being bound to those I had little desire to be bound to.

I suppose this is how the Gods prepare for the great war that would be upon us all just as soon as the false queen of the Giants would find her courage again.

I hope your stay continues to be -

[ what's the word? oh yes. ]

Uneventful. On behalf of the very queen of Camelot. We are three now, as it happens, two kings and queen of the very same kingdom among you, if it would please you.

[ if it does, you would the first to be pleased. ]

As it would have to please us.

[ to those who wish to find her, she would be found in the park, wrapped in a heavy dark cloak, a book on her knees.

Perhaps she needs the sun today. ]
 
 
30 March 2013 @ 11:00 am
[Sam has actually been back in Asgard for a few hours. It's taken him that much to wander around and get his bearings -- and, as such, he has found himself in the library, where he spent much of his time when he was first here.

He figures it's a good place for people to know and find him, should anyone want to talk to him.

-- or something.

He offers his bracelet a warm, but tired smile -- kind of like he's just run a marathon without more than a few pauses to catch his breath. Still, Sam seems to be in good spirits, and it shows in his tone.]


Anyone volunteering information?

[We'll see who is still here and who isn't.]
 
 
29 March 2013 @ 10:27 pm
[For some, the individual who appears on the screen will be familiar; for others, less so. He's not particularly remarkable, expression calm and voice even, though his stare might be a little more intense than a normal person's usually is.]

I did not expect to find myself here once again.

[He has a brown duffel bag in his arms, just visible at the bottom of the bracelet's screen, which he glances briefly down at before looking back up once again.]

I presume the apocalypse has still not come. Can anyone tell me where we stand as of now in regards to the gods and Ragnarok?

[A pause.]

What day it is would also be of use.
 
 
action babble. )


//video//

... I don't think I left, but I remember things from home. Things I didn't remember before. But for those of you who knew Peeta... I know where he is now. I know what happened to him. He's alive. It's not good, but he's alive.

[ As if anyone cares, or remembers him like she does. Hopefully someone is keeping hope alive, by remembering their dandelion in spring for Peeta's sake, just like she's trying to. But they have him now. ]
 
 
18 March 2013 @ 04:15 am
Private )

[Audio]

[The voice that comes over the feed is soft, but if you've spoken to her enough, it is unmistakably Hibiki's. Considering she doesn't usually do voice posts, this is a little... odd.]

Does anybody... know what to do when you really, really miss somebody?
 
 
13 March 2013 @ 05:30 pm
 [It seems eons have passed since he last showed his face on the network. It is a thinner face, one that has sobered considerably, one that is weary of life's trials.]

I wish to apologize to all those I worried. I...[he pauses as memories of his truly humiliating state flash through his mind. Swallowing quietly he continues] I seem to be myself again. I know not how I lost track of my bracelet this time, but I will keep a watchful eye to make certain to the best of my ability that it will not happen again.

[A soft smile spreads itself on his lips, despite it all]

To all my friends – I will be glad to hear from you. And my students - I would like you to contact me so that we may arrange a time for lessons to make up for my absence if you wish to have them. 

To those unaware and the newcomers to Asgard - I welcome you. My name is Sir Lancelot, please feel at ease to ask any question you may have, and if you wish to learn self defense you are more than welcome to contact me for that as well, I will be glad to refer you to the right teacher if you wish to master a weapon I do not offer instructions on. 

 
 
26 January 2013 @ 10:45 pm
[Gwen is at a complete lost with what to do, but luckily she has Merlin beside her to help her right now. With him, she is able to figure out how to make this video. The simple thought of it was be on her wildest imagination. But here she was, making something she could have never dreamed of happen.]

Um... Hello? [And, of course, she sounded nervous.] My name is Guinevere. I’ve been told that I can talk to people through this, so I hope it’s working. Merlin has been kind enough to explain this whole place to me. Though it’s still a bit much to take in all at once, isn’t it? But I suppose I’ll have to get used to it.

[She quickly stopped herself, noticing that she was rambling. Nerves had a funny habit of doing that to her. So she was going to get herself back on track.]

From what Merlin has told me, there are others from our… world. [That was by far the most awkward thing she has ever said, and she had a feeling that things were only going to get much more bizarre.] And he told me that my Lord wished to speak with me. I'm happy to go wherever you may need me.

[She frowned, feeling so awkward about this whole thing and turned away to address Merlin.] I don't think I'm doing this right.

[And with that, the feed ends.]
 
 
25 January 2013 @ 11:08 pm
[Even though you can't tell from the feed, Dean is sitting alone in an empty house. It's dark, most of the light coming from the screen itself, and it glints off a nearly empty bottle that he's got in one hand. His eyes are downcast, hidden from view, as he slowly rubs the bottom of the bottle against his knee. Everything is dead quiet apart from the soft swish of whisky and the brush of denim.]

Sam had more friends than me, so I'm sure lotsa you will be sad to hear he's gone...

[He takes a drink from the bottle, throat moving as he chugs for a few seconds. If you manage to catch a glimpse of his eyes from the right angle, they might look glassy.]

Cas and Daphne and Mary and John are all gone to. Think Jo went grey.

text; filter; New Camelot

can't afford this house alone
not even with jo if she comes back
got any room?
 
 
25 January 2013 @ 08:52 pm
[For a second there's nothing, and then there's a hushed]:

Fuck.

[The woman breathes for a moment, and then she breathes again, closing her eyes and deciding to just go on and be herself, just in case. At least if she's her fucking self then Dexter's going to know if she's there, and this isn't some sort of god damn druggie touchy-feely hippie shit.

Astor's pot wasn't that good.
]

My name's Lieutenant Debra Morgan from Miami Metro homicide and I'm looking for anyone who knows me, especially my errant fucking goofy brother. Dex, if you're there, bro, just get back to me. [There's more desperation in her voice than normal, and the stress in it is there for anyone to hear.] Pretty please with fucking coffee and donuts and fucking Christmas on top.

And if anyone else knows me, it'd be good to hear from you too. Let me know that I haven't entirely fucking cracked up in this place. Just ya know, mostly. [There's a little laugh that sounds almost a bit strained before Deb hangs up the device. Sometimes she knows she can talk too damn much.]
 
 
19 January 2013 @ 10:31 am
[Her head is cast down when the video first starts, seemingly calm. Yet, it is when her head tilts upwards, showing those hard green eyes, that the fury brimming beneath the surface may be witnessed. She is angry, yet she does not scream or cry or throw a tantrum. A Lannister does not act in such a manner.

Judging by her attire, she is a woman of some wealth and standing. (Less here, perhaps some might say, but Cersei would not be one of those.) She is dressed in those fine garments that she has been wearing at her son’s wedding, but they do nothing to make her look more welcoming now.

She is annoyed. She is offended. She is angry.]


Chosen by the Gods.

[Her first words, and they hold that snide and sarcastic tone to them.]

Do I look some fool, to believe such rubbish? I think not, so listen here. I know not what you aim to achieve by kidnapping my person, as I do not believe that drivel of a letter, but I shall tell you this. A Lannister always pays their debts, and if you think you shall profit from my ransom, you shall be sadly mistaken. If you seek to hide behind your letter, to conceal your true person, I fear that will help you little in the end.

[Those beautiful features darken. She does not like loosing power and not being in control.]

Speak now. Name your true terms. And let it be known, if you have harmed my son- or any of my children in any way- I shall show you how capable these hands are.
 
 
15 January 2013 @ 11:45 pm

[The bracelet begins recording small bare feet hurriedly pacing the halls of the house where the king of Camelot (not you, Uther) and his fellow Albionites reside. The feet hurry first to the bed of Morgana, and the boy peers over it as he has made a habit of doing since the lady has departed from the house. Finding it empty he hurries next to the door of the knight Lancelot and raises his hand to knock, but after a moment hesitates and instead bends down to try and see if there is light at the crack below the door or some semblance of the movement of feet. He cannot tell.  

Lastly he finds himself before the door to Arthur and Merlin's room and for a long moment he stares at it, frowning, but alas he does not even kneel to check for the light or the movement of feet. The king of Camelot would not have time for such things.

Quietly he paces away and goes to sit outside on the step. Only then can it be seen that he holds a crude toy bird in each hand, messily stitched together by himself as his people had taught him. 

Not knowing that he's been recorded, he decides to send a text]

[Text]

Does anyone wish to play?