narcissistictendencies: (You're missing the point.)
[personal profile] narcissistictendencies
[So, the feed will open to a very, very unimpressed face. Oh so very unimpressed. However, that face might be a little battered and bruised, maybe even slightly bleeding, but it's still obvious how undeniably unimpressed he is. After a moment of silent staring, his dark eyes narrow a fraction, adding mild agitation to the blasé expression. He is well aware this is some form of broadcast, and by the looks of it, it's an open feed, but he really doesn't care if he's making people uncomfortable. He's uncomfortable, and therefore, everyone else should be too.]

Really? No, I mean really? [He also might be a bit tightly wound. He's had a rough day. Understatement of the century, right there.] You should teach your goons not to aim for the face. It's my meal ticket. And honestly? I didn't expect to wake up in such nice accommodations. Actually, I was thinking more like a basement or a dungeon or even tied to a chair. But this is creative, I'll give you that.

[He pauses, thinking over the events and his current situation. It just doesn't seem to fit. This isn't AIM. The introduction said something about a Science Center in Cape Kore. He also sincerely doubts the evil twit has a reason to keep him alive. So, unless he's missing a chunk of time, he's just flat stumped. The injuries disprove the 'missing time' theory, however. So, back to posturing at his captor.]

And if you think this little flair of hospitality will make me any more cooperative, you have another thing coming, Killian. By the way, telling me not to escape will only make me try harder. [He gets ready to cut the feed, only to hesitate, brows knitted together in contemplation.] And P.P.S., this cell model is out of date. [Take that Aldrich! The feed is promptly cut thereafter.]
greenisnteasy: (:| w: sceptor)
[personal profile] greenisnteasy
[ He never knows how to start these things, so this time, he cuts to the chase.

This glowing orb is not Bruce's face, and it isn't exactly a perfect orb, either; its shape changes sometimes, rippling a bit, but it stays mostly spherical. It's glowing blue, sort of a Tesseract-y blue in Bruce's slightly trauamtized opinion, but the Tesseract doesn't have a monopoly on colors.

The camera swivels back to Bruce, his glasses pulled down his nose. ]


Anyone lose a pet? I didn't see a collar, so I've been calling it the blue semiliquid sphere exhibiting properties of organic life fused with some technological readings, probably alien in origin. That is, alien to me.

Sound like something anyone's missing? It's a cute little guy.

[ He smiles and pulls his glasses off. ] Really, I've hit my limit, so if anyone has any tips or if anyone wants to help me poke and prod at this thing, come see me in my lab.

[ Yeah, he claimed a lab. So what! ]
wolfofmidgard: (❆ grim)
[personal profile] wolfofmidgard
[Meja's in one of the labs in the early morning, one that hasn't been combed over too much yet, rifling through cupboards and searching for more testing equipment. Or anything that looks like it could be testing equipment. Roland the Rat sits on her shoulder, nose in the air, sniffling at everything she finds. She finds a few disturbing implements that she leaves be, bladed things which... honestly seem surgical in nature. How fun!

There are other, smaller things that she finds, however, which look less horrific. Finally, in the late morning, she decides to take a break and address the network. Roland sniffs at the phone; she picks him up and holds him in her other hand.]


For those who are following any progress, we've found at least one edible plant from the seeds we've germinated. Others are yet to be tested. If anyone's feeling bored, I'm in a lab near the library and I've found a few devices. Not for testing, exactly, but just to figure out what they are.

[She offers a wry smile, which fades a little as she moves onto her second item of business.]

Also, I don't know if anyone's seen her, but I'm not able to contact Anita Blake on the phones anymore. I'd appreciate if anyone would keep an eye out.

[With a final squeak from an impatient Roland, Meja cuts the feed.]
thatoldthatkind: ☇ chromerainbow @ livejournal (pic#1844029)
[personal profile] thatoldthatkind
[ Just a quick message from the Doctor: ]

Sorry. Did I forget to mention I found a door to the outside?

I'm fairly certain you lot forgot to mention there are doors to the outside.

Now only if I could find out where I put it. This labyrinth is not very friendly.
taserhappy: (018)
[personal profile] taserhappy
[The video feed opens and is fixed on a Darcy that is very much freaking out but trying to pretend like she isn't. Her tone is almost forcefully non-chalant.]

Look, I've said it once and I'll say it again. I am not getting stabbed in the name of science.

[She glances beyond the camera, no doubt taking in the bleak asylum looking surroundings.]

So, uh, whatever the plan is here. Saw or Gothika or Blair Witch... I'm not cool with it. I don't even like horror movies.

[That's a lie. She loves horror movies, but with a bucket of popcorn and the ability to scream at people too dumb to run when they should. Or just plain, GTFO.]

Also, let's get real. I'm not a virgin, but i'm not a total slut, so there's a 50/50 chance I can get out of here alive. Why don't we just skip to the end where I live to tell the tale of the creepy science place. Unless you want me to forget this place even exists. Forgotten.

[She bites her lip.]

Listen, I'll do whatever. Just don't kill me, okay? I've got a lot of living to do. And no one's going to get any points for killing a lowly intern. You should aim higher. Have some standards.
laevisilaufeyson: you're just a chicken cheep cheep cheep (you betrayed me! you're not good)
[personal profile] laevisilaufeyson
[There is nothing recognisable, at first, at waking up alone in a room entirely unlike that in which he recalls himself prior, his sense of space twisted about him like a Klein bottle, strange smells and tastes on the air and a fog in his head. Not waking up -- being caught at such a disadvantage puts Loki immediately on edge, and he wracks his mind as he pushes himself up from his sprawl, up through his stupor, to find the thread of memory which will lead effect back to cause. Spacetime does not unravel; he cannot see where its pieces become contiguous. There is only then, now, the smell and weight of metal, and the little device on the surface of the table, clumsy and ancient. Quaint. The word sparks off a familiar taste at the back of his tongue as he reaches for the device.

Rust. Concrete dust. And then the message plays.

The corners of his mouth quirk faintly up and he closes his eyes. Oh, oh; now arises a dilemma.

Loki sits for a time in his room, device in hand, looking down at it with worlds of possibilities swimming through his cloudy head, and finally, finally he switches the video on, little smile -- a veil -- firmly in place.
]

Given how well the last attempt to keep me here went I could see why one might be keen to try again.

[Perhaps this time I will not play as nicely.]

But whatever has become of all my old friends?

[It isn't a manifesto. It isn't even quite a threat, save on its underbelly, but there is no mistaking the subtle signs of anger, and those who remember him -- if any -- may recall that in Loki, a quiet anger is if anything more dangerous than a noisy one.]

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