Cabin Fever (video)

[von_uberwolf]

Don't want to go outside too much. The last thing I need is running into someone I know and having to answer all kinds of awkward questions about why I'm not dead and hiding from the police. But on the other hand, I'm going stir crazy in here!

Anyone else having this problem? We should all, like, get disguises and do something. Go to a bar. Go ice skating. I don't care. As long as it's something OTHER than spending another day watching TV and playing video games!

...I know. I heard there was a monster truck show coming to town. Who wants to go get drunk and watch giant trucks drive over shitty compacts and leave them in shattered ruins?

Audio

[implores]

[Clair types the numbers into the notepad on her phone, worrying she might forget them and they might be important. And of course, with that, it starts recording.]

Yes, I'm fine, don't worry. I guess I haven't had enough sleep lately, I must have started to doze off.

[A little further away and therefore rather quiet, a man speaks.] "We'll quit for today, are you sure you don't want me to take you to the hospital?"

I'm sure! It was...rather frightening, but it's not as if I'm hurt, I'll just go home and take a rest. Thank you, though.

"Well, if you're sure. If you want a stand-in for the retake, though..."

[Though it can't be seen she shakes her head, and so they exchange a few more words before a call to pack up is shouted and Clair finally saves the note, ending the recording.]

two logs up in here

[amberhearted]

Who: Alexander & Reilanin
When: December 19th and December 25th, respectively
Where: the Savarna-Varista apartment
What: Checking up post-grave robbing and spending Christmas together as two people who can't or won't spend it with family thanks to THE NETWORK RUINING THEIR LIIIIIIIIVES.
Warnings: References to cannibalism and a fade to black in the Christmas log.

( Dec. 19th! )

---

( Dec. 25th! )

First Wave | Laptop | Video

[horsesaround]

[The first thing that comes into view is a pretty messy, standard teenager's room, coupled with a pretty standard teenager face staring at the screen. Double the standard value right here!

Jason gives the computer a skeptical look. Okay, he could talk to horses. Everything he'd read on this whatever it is? Can be completely real, too, right? Right.]

Alright. So, let's do a quick review for those us who took a nap during class. This thing, the [cue air quotations] Numbers Club, is the supposed terrorist group in town but it's actually not, everyone here seems like a normal person but they're actually not, the police are the supposed good guys but they're actually not.

[Nice long pause right here. Saying all that out loud just made him feel the urge to go call those nice people in white who would put him in that nice, tight jacket and take him away to the loony hotel. He suddenly sighs and rubs the back of his neck.]

Nice as it is to know my horse whispering career actually has a chance of getting up off the ground, I have to say the trade off of serving as target practice for the doughnut boys doesn't seem all that fair. Though I do have one question: [somewhat extended, dramatic pause] anyone here good at geometry? Cause there's around 2 pages worth of the stuff giving me the evil eye right now and winter break kinda destroyed any hope of me remembering how to do this stuff. Suspected terrorists should know something about rhomboids and parasols, right?

[That's parallelograms, Jason.

Hmm... he's forgetting something here. Think think think... OH names! Those are kinda important. He flashes a small, if uncertain grin at the screen.]

Ah right, my name's Jason. Here's to not becoming swiss cheese with you guys.

Audio

[fusionjack]

[The number had been rattling around in his head for weeks now, along with... other intrusive new information. It was only last night that he had gotten around to writing the whole thing out, intending to plug it into a search engine and see if anything might come of it. When the network unfurled in front of him... well, he had skimmed until he came across someone plainly stoned posting about tentacle porn, declared it a night, poured himself a double, and went to bed.

But now it's the next evening, and he's had time to think about what he might want to actually say to such an... interesting bunch of people.]

It's nice to know that those numbers in my head don't mean that I'm going crazy. Though I'm starting to wonder about some of you... [He laughs briefly.] ...sorry. I guess you can call me Jack. From what I've heard so far, we need to avoid the police and keep our heads down. Anything else that I should know?

[He hesitates for a moment, considering something.]

One more thing...

[And what follows is in a discordant, alien language full of sharp sounds and short syllables. It's the language of the Undead, which only one other person currently on the network ought to know.]

This language came to me. If you speak it, show yourself. We WILL talk.

...that was probably just nonsense to everyone, wasn't it? [There's another laugh, faintly embarrassed-sounding.]

[video] look ma it's not a textpost!

[grannyfucker]

[The network number that brought you such hits as Impersonating Simon Edwards is back, broadcasting a video this time. The video shows a kitchen--one that a few characters, if they've been there, may recognize as being the kitchen of one Alan Hunter's home.

In the foreground, however, is a notecard propped up by some salt and pepper shakers. The notecard seems to have some writing on it, too!]

How is it all of you chumps have a bunch of ~*magical superpowers*~ and I don't? I've been here a while, and all I've gotten is [he wrote something here, but then blacked it out with the marker] a bunch of shitty memory bullshit! All this retarded cop alien conspiracy earthquake crap would actually be worth it if I ever actually got anything cool out of it!

Seriously. What's a guy gotta do to get some decent superpowers around this place?

[All responses will be in a similar format--text written on notecards in the foreground with various scenes of Alan's house in the background.]

it's totally november okay you just have to add another 1 to the month, it's that easy!

[gogoghostpowers]

Who: Danny Fenton and Lloyd Irving
Where: Lunchtime at Locke High!
When: we're timewarping this shit to before Thanksgiving.
What: Awkward teenagers having awkward lunch at awkward high school talking about awkward stuff.
Warnings: we're going straight into soap opera territory here, GIRD YOUR LOINS PEOPLE

( hormones and soap opera plot lines, oh lawd )

[text; direct message to Jack Sears]

[unfearing]

[ These messages appear one after another every few minutes, with increasing frequency until the last few lines are sent almost simultaneously. Someone's gotten herself all worked up. ]

Jack? Are you there? It's me, Lizzie. Elizabeth Bishop?

Jack, please answer.

Jack Sears, I know you're out there. Answer me, please!

I just want to make sure you're all right.

You can't hide forever, you know.

If you don't answer, I'm going to come find you.

Do you understand me, Jack Sears? I will go out there and I will find you.

I'm getting my coat on.

I'm going to go wait for you in our spot in the Dead District, since that's the last place I saw you.

I'm going to stand there until you answer me. I will stand there all night if I must.

I've got my keys.

I'm locking up.

Okay, Jack. See you there.

Closed Action

[twopercent]

Who: Skyler and Raiden
When: Backdated to (to be determined)
Where: Near a Blood Keys meeting place
What: An actual cyborg and a not-yet-cyborg might have different motives, but they're interested in some of the same things.

( It wasn't anything more than a dark shadow illuminated only by the dim blue-ish light of a screen, but it was definitely there. )

[video]

[boredallready]

[Here's a face that hasn't been on the network for a few weeks. Anyone who got texts from him must have been so relieved. Not much seems different with him at least, especially the look of confusion.]

So, uh, has anybody else gone out of town and then completely forgotten this number? Cause now that I remember it, I think the last time I checked here was right before Dad and I went to Thanksgiving. It's kind of a weird thing to forget, too.

All that weird stuff that's been going on, too. Like the gangs and the earthquake and the stuff at school. Did that have anything to do with...whatever this is? Has anybody figured that out yet? Uhh, [He attempts to grin, though it seems nervous and forced.] how is everybody, anyway?

[ Run where you'll be safe ]

[persuaderoll]

Who:Daylen Amell & Open
Where: The park and around Locke City
When: Weekend: Early Morning or Late evening (let me know which day/option)
What: Dog walking and chatting and possibly terrible things because this is Locke City
Warnings: None to begin...

( [ Through the garden gates ] )

[closed] a meeting of the minds?

[flamberge]

Who: Jason Sherman and Karl Aurion
When: 12/12/13 (backdated)
Where: Police Station
What: Two officers have a little chat.

( nah, just corrupt cop meets corrupt cop )