cape_kore | Entries tagged with { laura hawley

The air tastes strange. [ River knows the video is on but she's not looking at it, allowing instead for the broadcast to show the hallway of house seventeen in the waning afternoon light.

An arm reaches out and a door swings open to a bedroom. Bed rumpled and several books scattered around but otherwise empty.

They took him and she doesn't know when. They took a note, the whole song is wrong now.

[ River sounds exhausted. ]

The air tastes strange. All the notes should be careful and keep themselves in tune.

retrograding

[Because the broadcast is a video, Jet Star comes on the screen with his hair somewhat tamed and his eyepatch in place. His expression is as calm as ever, and the video is steady. The only evidence that there might be something wrong is the sound of clattering and a somewhat distressed voice in the background - but Jet ignores that for the most part to address his audience.]

I have one very simple question for the people of this town today, and I like to think it isn’t an unreasonable request. Two friends of mine, Party Poison and Kobra Kid, have not been home for a while. Has anybody seen either of them? They’re rather hard to miss. Party Poison has red hair, and Kobra Kid is blonde, the former is short and the latter is tall --

[Fun Ghoul suddenly appears over Jet's shoulder, scowling at the communicator.]

One's fuckin' stupid, and the other one's twice as fuckin' stupid. Give 'em the real facts, Jet. Two days! [He holds up two fingers in front of Jet's face just in case you assholes forgot how to count.] Never gone this long without sayin' shit, ask that raccoon-eyed piece of work what she did with our boys--

[And he cuts himself off to disappear into the background again, sending something else crashing to the floor. Jet watches Ghoul stomp off with a sort of sad expression, and when he looks back at the communicator, the look sticks.]

We aren't accusing anyone of anything. But if you are out there, either of you - or if anybody knows where they might be, please let us know.

Please. Thank you. [And the feed cuts off. Jet has some calming to do, excuse him.]

designedtoparty

I knew I had a power. I knew it. You should've seen the freaks back home who got super powers. There was no way I stayed normal and losers like that didn't.

[He manages to pause for brief moment, but if you're worried about being kept in the dark, don't be. Nathan is feeling particularly smug and has no plans to keep anyone in suspense over his new discovery. He looks as though he might burst if he keeps his mouth shut any longer than he does, although it's probably in everyone else's worst interests that he doesn't.]

Well, guess what. I'm immortal. So, in sixty years time when you're all sitting around in care homes waiting to be put out of your misery? I'm still going to be young and beautiful, making a shit load of money shooting myself in the face and jumping of buildings. Barely legal girls are going to be swarming all around me.

I hope you're all jealous. Or horny. Although that last one's only acceptable if you're both female and attractive. With a power like this I really don't see myself needing to be that fussy.

bestpray

[ He could taste dried blood on his lips. His head was ringing and he felt like closing his eyes, rolling over and passing out again. That'd be okay right? Last face he saw before the crack rang out was Rick. Rick wouldn't let a zombie chomp down on his ass would he? Before he could even try to just fade out again he heard Merle's voice. Bitter and loud. He was hovering above him somewhere.

Come on now, baby brother. The hell you doin' now? Get the fuck up! You come this far and just lay down to take a nap, princess. I don't think so.

There was a sharp stabbing sensation in his left side and then the pain radiated outward. It was almost like someone had kicked him right in his wound. The same wound that still hadn't received medical attention. He sat up suddenly and let out a pained scream as his communicator came to life. There's a very bloody and screaming man on the screens now. He's not in a very good head space and he's probably delusional by this point. No water and a wound that just has yet to stop bleeding.

Daryl pushes himself up onto his feet and staggers backwards. He trips over his bow and lands on his back again. The communicator catches a glimpse of the ears currently hanging from his neck and the blood around his mouth. He's hardly notices the bulky device just yet. He pushes himself up into a seated position and strains to get a look at his wound. The communicator has also now caught a glimpse of his wound. ] Fuckin' hell--

[ The communicator finally catches his attention and he lifts it up to get a better look at the thing. What's visible on the screen to folks is his head and the necklace of rotted walker ears he put around his neck. ] The hell am I?

facilitated

Private to Bruce Banner
( secret vampire talk here )

facilitated

[ Laura only really uses the network when she wants to talk to everyone - this is no exception. Pay attention, residents of Kore! She's offering up her services again - like hell if it's grave digging again though. This time it's far less morbid, and her cheerful demeanour says just as much. ]

So, fellow kidnap-ees! None of us like starving, and none of us like waiting on mysterious food drops for help? Well, a few people have brought it up, and we can't be stuck in winter forever, right?

[ She's been doing really well at super confident, dazzling smile up until now. It's slipping though, the closer she gets to actually suggesting useful ideas, the more nervous she seems to get. Laura is no public speaker, after all. ]

Basically, I lived on a farm my whole life. Like, literally. I worked on it my whole life too, and basically ran it the last year or so. So I figured, if anyone wants to learn how to do this stuff, I can show you, and if we start now? Well by the time we can actually start doing anything useful, everyone will know enough to help out.

[ She shrugs, offers another bright smile and gives a little wave. ]

Anyway, that's pretty much it so just, let me know okay? Okay.

worstpire

[ Have some fumbled video of Conrad's sick-looking face, until he succeeds in finding the private option and the public feed cuts out. ]

( private: d r. b a n n e r )

magnets

So, people'a Kore-

[ Pinkman's device turns on with his cheekily grinning at the camera as his fingers drum antsily on the kitchen counter. There's also a Finch peering over at the camera from the side, with a grin to match. ] We gotta little treat for all you bitches today. It's called straight-up science time with a couple'a Jesses. So pay attention, alright? Ya might learn somethin'.

[ Finch ducks down out of view of the camera, and when he comes back up, he's holding this crudely made volcano, painted brown and totally shoddy. But it works for what they're trying to do. He places it down on the counter, and shakes the little container of baking powder he's picked up from the counter. ] Bet you all have seen a paper volcano afore, right? All y'need is a badass little volcano like this one, dish soap, water, baking soda, and - [ He lifts up a jug of vinegar, gesturing at it. ]

Some'a this shit here. [ Pinkman cuts in, turning the communicator back to him momentarily so it's closer to his face when he announces for anyone who didn't, you know, read the label, ] That's real vinegar.

[ And then volcano again, in which Pinkman subtly pushes down a piece of duct tape holding the sides together - the thing really is held together with spit and a prayer - before he pans the camera up to Finch. There's a laugh in his voice when he asks. ] You wanna do the honors?

[ Finch is laughing too, cackling really, grabbing for the vinegar. He salutes the camera. ] Aye, I'll do the honors. Wish me luck, man. [ He hovers closer to the volcano, and lifts the jug to pour it into the baking soda volcano. And lo and behold: it "explodes". Messily. Like, really messily, and they're both standing close enough that it blows up abruptly and sprays on both Pinkman and Finch. Finch doesn't exactly yelp, but it's a close thing, and then he's laughing again, brushing his sleeve across his face. ]

Man - [ Pinkman starts to rebut, but he's laughing too much to answer for a moment, the camera going askew as he mops a hand through the muck dripping down his face, flicks some of it off. There's red foam dripping all down the counter and onto the floor. ] Bitch, I said 'not the whole thing' -

[ And the camera dotted with bits and pieces of red food coloring, the feed abruptly cuts off. ]

rigging

[ Jesse's not super huge on using the communicator. That's why he tries to keep it covered most of the time. But today, he's forgotten, or he's just not mindful of it, because he's more interested in paying attention to the papers and pencils and brushes in front of him. Wherever he is, it's bright and sunny, and high up. For a few moments, it just shows out into the town - the lighthouse is visible for a split second when he raises his hand to scratch at the back of his head, and when it comes back down, there's a view of the library and the fountain.

Did you guess he's sitting on the roof of house twenty? If you did, gold star.

It takes another moment, but then Jesse brings his hand to rest over his mouth, which means he's unknowingly giving his viewers a survey of the art in front of him. He's got two papers drying off a bit to the side, and in his lap, there's a sketchpad with a few rough sketches of people here. Galen, Kenzi, and Bruce are all somewhat recognizable, but he's not working on those. What he is picking at with his pencil is a drawing of a girl with tree-branch veins.

Jesse sighs, the static loud over the speaker, and mumbles to himself. ]

Fuckin' - where's my... Shit, th'fuck did I put my -- [ Another sigh, and he gives up on the drawing, moving to reach for the pack of cigarettes. Grumble grumble: ] Feel like a goddamn -- [ And the feed clicks out. ]

( ooc: credit - one, two, three. Not mine. )

violenthearted

[ Good morning, ~~Losties~~ Kore....ites, or whatever you are, please accept a video, featuring Erik's ever-present displeasure with his communicator. He has figured out how to work it by now, but this does not mean he likes it any better. B| Behind him, in the slices provided by the small screen, appears to be a kitchen, because that is exactly where he is. God forbid he sit in the living room or anywhere like, comfortable. So kitchen table it is. Charles is probably around somewhere, puttering, being British, but for the moment Erik appears to be alone.

And he has questions. Many questions.]

For those of you who failed to witness the catastrophe that was my arrival here, I'm Erik Lehnsherr. If that name means nothing to you, so much the better. If you think you have some idea of who I am - and I have come across those who do - let me state again for the record that I continue not to be a doctor of any kind, nor do I have any interest in adopting a moniker invented by bored adolescents.

That said. I'm looking for information on what appears to be an ever dwindling food supply. I understand you are provided with sustenance from the sky, but frankly I'm suspicious of quail. At best.

[It's a joke, see, because wandering forty years in the desert and bitching about manna and stuff--never mind.]

Has anyone looked into what might be done on our own terms? Anyone hunting, fishing, looking into the feasibility of farming? If someone's already taken that task on what I can only assume to be very level shoulders, I'd like to meet you. And if not, I'd like to be that person. Not - [he shrugs, loosely] that you're obliged to put your faith in a stranger. But I dislike idle hands, particularly when they're mine.

(ooc: this is forward-dated to the morning of day 48, in case that was not clear. :3 all replies will be video.)

preytosociety

[The image is sideways, shaky, and occasionally swaying. It appears to be someone stumbling through the woods. Aside from the skewed view of trees and dirt, there's occasionally a flash of red hair, matted and dotted with leaves. Eventually the shaking stops.

Lydia rests her hand against a tree trunk at the edge of the forest and the side of her face is finally visible. Her cheek is streaked with dirt and she doesn't look like she's entirely aware of what's going on.

Slowly, she comes back to herself. She turns her head to look at her wrist. Her lips press into a thin line, and she manages to look indignant even covered in god knows what with a ripped dress.]

You have got to be kidding me. [She angrily cuts the feed.]

worstpire

-- is this supposed to be?!

[ A pair of glasses and a bewildered expression bump into view for a second before the image is replaced once again with the dark ceiling of an attic. The floor creaks as he moves across it very slowly. ]

I thought he'd kill us, not... fucking... If this is some kind of v-hab I'm gonna lose my sh--OW!!!

[ The image jerks, and there's a sound almost like sizzling as Conrad jumps back and nearly falls on his ass in the process. There's a very pained 'mmmmfffffrrrrrrggghhhh' noise and some cursing through gritted teeth for a moment. ]

Son of a bitch! Ngh -- A - oh, fuck this - A-Adelaide? Anyone?

mentis

Ah. [ Straight away it's clear that the bloke peering down at the screen has absolutely no idea what's attached to him or what he's doing. He's got a boyish countenance, blue eyes that are more tired than anything, and a small almost worried crease between his brows. But he doesn't say anything for a moment, just peers at his new ... addition. He holds it from his face like a clock face and throws a glance over his shoulder, the image dipping to take in the flash of yellow and blue uniform. ] Erik, look. I think it's recording something.

[ The other voice is vaguely accented Euro-something (a panglobal accent? sure!), and carries a timbre like its owner is smiling through gritted teeth, a smile on a tether tight enough to snap. ] Mine isn’t.

[ The former person holds his wrist aloft for his partner - Erik - to see. Even glowering, he's handsome and dressed in the same leather as the first. Blue eyes flick away and look to him, mouth twisting into something of a smile despite how obviously stressed the pair of them are. ] Well, that's what one gets when they're as volatile as a powder-keg.

Call it preparedness. [ The smile slips an inch and winds itself back in like a winch, lower row of teeth showing. ] It’s metal, whatever it is. But it won’t—[ He can’t remove it, this thing attached to him that as far as he can tell is some kind of small television, and for Erik that’s as disconcerting as not being able to feel his own skin. Showing that much vulnerability is not in the cards, however, so he centers himself with a visible squaring of shoulders, light eyes scanning their immediate area. ] Never mind, that’s the least of our problems.

I agree, we --. [ Need to find the others, find Raven but he stops, touches it and lets the furrow grow more over-pronounced. ] Call this a longshot, but this reminds me of something ... [ A pause, and he arches up an eyebrow, fingertips drifting to his temple in silent request of conversing a little bit more privately. Erik nods and Charles falls silent as though that's the end of that matter. ] The CIA had communication devices like this, I believe we can use it to contact whoever brought us here, bargain for a way out.

[ Because under his bloody single-mindedness Erik is virtually always thinking in thirty directions at once, he notices Charles’ mild mimicry of his phrasing despite the bizarre and unsettling circumstances; he arches his eyebrows in a ripple of interest that quickly fades and then sharpens into focus on the much more relevant subject brought to bear in his head. His nod this time is a quick, disjointed jerk, a bodily command that looks exactly like what it is even if he’s not saying a word aloud. ] Do it.

[ Charles' smile goes from small and private to wide and bright just like a flashbulb going off, his shoulders straightening out as he focuses his attention to the thing wrapped tight around his wrist. He doesn't allow himself the time to worry or feel embarrassed about it, just talking in a smooth, mind-mannered tone. ] My name is Charles Xavier, this is -- [ There's barely a fraction of a second of silence, his knows Erik, knows he's done some things that even Charles couldn't fathom. Giving out his name mightn't be the best thing. ] -- my associate. If someone could fill us in, let us know what's going on and how we can go about our business that would be much appreciated.

( ooc: so replies will come from both

mentis &

violenthearted. Also there's been a little bit of an addendum to my permissions so if you can have a look that would be swell. )

designedtoparty

[The video opens with an uncomfortably close recording of Nathan's face. He squints at it, flicks the screen, then seemingly satisfied starts to talk.]

All right, so I have three questions for your weirdos. First off, what year is this supposed to be?

Second, what sort of shitty power is this? I know it isn't mine, because hello, A-list. And I think I might've remembered packing myself a bin bag of nothing, ditching my phone, and teleporting myself to the fuck end of nowhere.

[Nathan moves his arm further from his face, allowing the camera to see the face of the fountain centrepiece, which Nathan seems to be hanging off.]

Last question. What's the cheapest hotel you've got around here? You wouldn't believe how wet Medusa's getting here, and she's a little shy about getting it on in public if you know what I mean.

[And just in case anyone doesn't, he proceeds to dry hump the statue.]

Oh, Medusa! I don't think I can hold on much longer. Oh-- Shit!

[The last word has a genuine note of panic it it, and Nathan's eyes have widened. Luckily for everyone, balancing and holding out his arm to record this proves too much for Nathan. He slips, landing with a splash in the fountain. The feed cuts out.]

facilitated

[ So here's someone who will be familiar to anyone paying attention to the networks recently - except at least this time there's no screaming. Instead she switches on the video after composing herself, and she's maybe not as calm as she'd like, but it's close enough. ]

The people we found, is anyone- [ she hesitates a moment, she's not good at public speaking at the best of times, let alone with the topic at hand. She presses on though, after a moment to suck in a sharp breath of air. ] Is anyone arranging a funeral for them? I just...wanted to know, that's all.

[ Another hesitation. She looks tired, and in the moment that she sweeps the stray hair out of her face it's kind of obvious that she's not looking a hundred per cent. ]

I'll do it, if there isn't something already.

[ And...that'll do apparently, because with that she cuts the feed. ]

evolv

[The display opens on the cemetery. The only interesting thing is a pile of rock and ash in front of a gravestone. How long has that been there? The cemetery isn't a wholly popular place, it could have been days. For a long moment, nothing happens. Birds chirp, wine rustles the trees.

Then-- there, do you see it? A piece of the rubble twitches slightly, then begins to roll up the pile. Another joins it in motion. Pretty soon all the pieces are shaking and rolling over each other, reshaping into the vague form of a body. A line of stones reach out towards the camera, pulling it up and in. Finally, the round shape on top solidifies into a head, complete with a face, the eyes open wide and he gasps, taking in the first breath of life he's had for days.]

Wha-- [He breathes heavily, slowly becoming more human than statue. His clothes are tattered, singed, and dusty.] What the hell?

onteamdyson

Sooooooo ... hey. Phil's been kinda corpsified. Looks pretty bad... don't wanna describe it all publicly and junk because some of the more delicate residents might pass the hell out. Don't know why the body's still here... that makes, what-- two now? Sticking around? Kinda creepy. We haven't found any of the other ones until now, so it's a little shady.

Um. I can't-- ... move him. So. I covered him with a tarp, if-- ... [She sucks in a breath] if anyone wants to look at the body first and then maybe help me move him? That would... rock. I guess.

Clint's still missing. Natasha, too. And a bunch of other people on the list. But, yeah, found Phil.

[Private to Kobra Kid]

We need to freakin' talk. ASAP.

retrograding

-- cannot see anything but the shadows on the wall of the cave. But what if you could see behind you, to look at what was causing the shadows? You would have a new... view of the world, right? So of course, you would want to know more. Say that you managed to escape the bonds and leave the cave. You would see the sun for the first time, and knowing that light, or that goodness, would be both awesome and terrifying.

[ Oops, someone accidentally turned on his communicator in the middle of a philosophical explanation. Good job there, Jet. He hasn't noticed it's on. And he probably won't, because he isn't alone! There's a voice that comes to the left of him, female, probably recognizable if you've spoken to her before, that says something that the audio doesn't pick up. ]

Yes, that is -- [ But he doesn't get to finish, because there's a sudden stop, the girl's voice again, Jet muttering something, footsteps -- and then, a very loud, and very scared, scream.

The feed goes dead. ]

--
( ooc: this would be Jet and Laura finding the body of Maria Smith in the fountain! Action is welcome, and also Laura or Jet might reply. c: )

anniethedayplanner

[The video swings wildly up and down. Have some sky. Now some ballet flats. A flash of plaid and then sky again.]

Guys?

[The video stills as Annie peers at the device on her wrist.]

Is this an Inspector Space Time thing? Remember what I said about warning me when we were pretending outside of the Dreamatorium? I need advance notice. I have a test, I can't... [She rolls her eyes, realizing that if they've gone to this much trouble, it's inescapable.]

[She sighs, pursing her lips before taking a deep breath and talking animatedly, her eyes wide.]

Oi, Goven'r, this is Constable Geneva on Cape Kore requiring immediate extraction. Blimey, there are blorgons everywhere! [She glances around, her face falling momentarily.] And a test worth 25% of my grade on the morn! Hurry, Inspector! Constable Reggie!

[She pauses, furrowing her brow.] Anyone?

brittanator

[The feed kicks in with Britta staring, her head bobbing up and down as if she's confused by the device on her wrist.] I know retro is in, but- [Wait. Is it on?] Oh! It's on!

Hey, Troy and Abed. This? Not funny. Which way is Greendale?

... How'd you get the money to do all this, anyway?

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Entries tagged with { laura hawley

02 || River Tam || Day 55

video | 004 | day 54

002 | video | day 053

001 | Video | Daryl Dixon

private audio; day 51

video; day 51; 004

✘ t w o ( video ) d a y 5 1

video | 003

video | 005 | mid-day 48

♞ 001 | Erik Lehnsherr | Day 48 ♞

Accidental Video || Lydia Martin || 06

✘ o n e ( video )

→ → video o1 ← ←

001 | video | day 046

video; day 46; 003

01 | Darwin | Day 45 (video)

Kenzi [009] Video

audio | 003 | day 42

Annie Edison | Video | 001

001 || Britta Perry || vid

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