savetheearth | Entries tagged with tales of symphonia: colette brunel

WHO: Colette Brunel (

angelskills) and Banagher Links (

argents).
WHAT: A much needed reunion.
WHEN: Friday, February 14th.
WHERE:A small park not far from LCU and Posies.
WHY: These dorks have been apart for too long!
NOTES: Preemptive fluff warning?

( And here you are, but you better choose carefully )

angelskills

WHO: Colette and YOU! And you, and you. And why not, you too.
WHAT: Open tea parlor log! Come and get some delicious tea and glorious CR.
WHEN: Anytime within the past two weeks? If you'd like a specific date just throw it in the subject line.
WHERE: Posies Tea Parlor! Located near LCU, about 5-10 minutes walking distance.
WHY: Let's make some FRIENDS or something.

( once you've met someone, you're always connected )

angelskills

Hello! I'm sorry I haven't been around much. I've been getting used to this ... um, well, this new weird power, I guess I should call it!

I was wondering, how have you all been managing with your new powers? Or memories? It's made daily things pretty difficult, huh?

There's... also something else. A while back quite a few of us went to the old jail during a patrol and... what we found was [ scary ] very strange. Have you guys heard about it from anyone else who went yet? I just... I don't like thinking about it, but I'd just like to make sure, since it's something relevant to all of us.

If you don't want to know that's all right. But if you do, please just let me know.

Take care, everyone.

angelskills

WHO: Colette Brunel (

angelskills) and Lloyd Irving (

boredallready).
WHAT: A fated first meeting!
WHEN: Maybe a day or so ago? 9/8.
WHERE: The park.
WHY: Because not even reincarnation can keep these two dorks apart!

( we knew every line; now i can't remember )

edhwierfan

Who: Aeron, Colette, Mamoru, Regina, & Riku
Where: Around Locke City
When: Aug. 10, 1800 hours
What: The group goes on a "test drive" patrol of sorts and stumbles on something more serious than they'd even expected.

( as if they were shadows, shimmering visions )

flamberge

Who: Aeron Penning, Colette Brunel, Richard Locke
What: In which Aeron finally meets the guy who pointed a gun at his cute little sister.
Where: Hospital, Colette's room
When: August 5

( and stuff happens. )

angelskills

[ The voice on the other end of the feed is shaky and weak. It's difficult to make out the words because of the hum of other noises -- clicks of cash registers and the squeak of sneakers, the shuffle of plastic bags. ]

Please... I....

[ There's more static and muffled noises - she's talking but it's not clear what she's saying, there are noticeably a lot of pauses and sharp inhales. ]

I can't -- it hurts -- please, help... some...

[ There's a crashing noise and the feed continues to run, all the noises that were there before sans Colette, who has gone silent. ]

[ ooc: Long story short, Colette has passed out in an alley beside a popular super market. Her bags are dropped on the floor and she's on the ground. I'd like for one person to find her!! If you'd like to just throw up that you're doing so in the subject line. Otherwise, Colette will be responding once she's come-to and probably been dragged to a clinic or hospital. ♥ ]

enrages

hahahhaah
so ahaha
update:
havent slept in 75 hrous

at this poitn
and i think that time has ether forgot me
or its just slowifn the fukck down which is acutlaly kind of beuatiful in a poetyic jusice kinda way if you Thinkg abot it.
like sometimes you just wake up and youres another day older and and sometimes time just goes a ittle bitfaster each and eery day bt ive actualy gone back in time to a point tofwhere it was slower and what M REALLY TRYING TO SAY HERE IS THAT THIS MINUTE HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR FAR TOO LONG AND ITS STARTGIN TO MAKE ME FEEL A LITL UNCOMFORTABLE.

ok

ok thank god

the clock changed
that was aclose one.
whew.

i dont even know hwat id do if my super power was not sleeping and stopping time.
i cant feel my face
and my eys are almost shut but my mind wont stop i jave to be awake o figure all thsi shit out
the purple bigs and scoprios and deer that attck ed me and why isnt my dog talking yet???? (this is the impt wustion why isnt ym dog talking yet this sint fair MAKE MY DOGLET TALKKK)??
crab speak
crab learn to read
crab talk to me
pelase crab please if you are reading this all i have evyrwanted was yoy to be people

....but okay thisn isnt what i wante dto talk to you guys about

( i figured out whats going on. )

flamberge

Who: Colette Brunel, Richard Locke
What: Bumping into each other in a tea shop
When: Backdated to July 14
Where: Posies

( I'm a little teapot )

boredallready

[Something has been horribly bothering Lloyd for the last week or so, and no one he knows has been able to help him. So, despite writing this place off before as kinda boring, he's come back in hopes that someone can explain what's going on to him.]

This is the right number for that random network, right? Uhh, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I have a question. Has anybody ever remembered something that never happened but you still remember it? Some jerk nearly ran me over on a motorcycle right before it happened last week if that helps...

lightedprincess

[Ok, so all Kairi had been trying to do was type in these numbers that have been going through her head for years in another attempt to try and decipher the meaning.

This network thing appearing in her word doc? Yea, that's way new. It takes her a moment before she tentatively starts typing.]

I can honestly say I wasn't really expecting that. I guess everyone on here can see this, huh? I'm kind of looking over things and I'll try to catch up on my own, but it looks like there's a lot here so it might take me a while.

[There's a long pause where she's looking back at entries, trying to start the beginning before remembering she forgot something important.]

My name's Kairi, by the way. It's nice to meet you all.

flamberge

The police have been ordered to be on an increased lookout for suspicious behavior. Do not do anything needlessly reckless.

[Short but to the point.]

pitch_slap

[The handwriting is fine, neat, and flowing, a practiced hand, remarkably consistent. Someone used to writing a lot. It seems as if the post is written on blank music sheets, the letters following the lines of the staff. The numbers are written first, then the same numbers translated into musical notes. Then the writing begins.]

It seems like everyone on the network has got these numbers in their heads, right? And there's all these strange things in the news but what I want to know is

Has anybody had, well, voices? In their heads?

I know it sounds crazy, but I guess if it is we've got good reason for it, huh?

[There's a smudge where someone wrote something, and then erased it to a smear.] _sorry

Let me know?

espigeonage

[You're treated to an unsteady, sort of skewed moving view of the inside of the apartment Julien shares with his sister. Visible mostly are the floor, the lower edges of walls and furnishings, and his legs and bare feet as he walks nervously through, but it's decent enough. Not entirely neat but clean, at least. To human eyes. He sounds... well, he's gotten so good at sounding normal, but right now Julien's talking with two nearly-identical harmonizing voices and a sort of flange, and doesn't sound good.]

Is this even working? Shit. I don't - it looks sort of like home but this doesn't make any sense, why is - what - dyes? Ugh, god, look at this. I don't... look, what is even with that! [It's a laundry basket full of haphazardly stacked clothes. Looks totally normal.] Even my hands, that's so gross. [There's a flash of one of them. Clean, with trimmed fingernails.]

That's her handwriting. [A note in blue pen on the kitchen table, saying did the headache pass? he might be sick if he's sleeping in this late and don't you dare try to tough it out, saying she took Valerie to the daycare, and go the other way if he meets sootballs again.] Pens don't come in that... color. Nothing is that color. Shit. Am I even... in Kansas anymore?

[The view starts to turn but stops on a shot that includes the window. Blue midmorning sky, barely a cloud in sight, but his phone trembles and he sounds even worse.]

Oh my god.

Oh god.

- I can't stay here.

[So yeah! Bird vision: not like ours. If the game was a series and people RPed him, this would be used as proof that he doesn't react well stuck in jamjars.]

coulrage

[The video feed is basically just a shot of his jaw, which is covered in little specks of minor burns. Interesting for those who know him offline, he's missing his makeup just for this.]

P-S-A, don't try to light sparklers with a cigarette. You get these little fuckers all over your face. [That chuckle betrays that he's still not exactly sober at the moment.] Y'all prob'ly know that but just in case.

enrages

[ The camera's pointed at a precious cutie scottie dog dressed in the most ridiculous dog outfit imaginable. The dog is currently licking its crotch. Karson's speaking from behind the camera. ]

Hey, network for assholes. Today's the most important day of the year, and I swear to god, if a single one of you is completely unaware of what day it is, I'm going to vomit all over this screen, and then, instead of guessing the day, you'll get to guess what I had for lunch.

So, you know what day it is today? It's America Day-- a day to celebrate the glorious freedom we could have if we'd all stop voting for Obama. A day to celebrate how, a fuckton of years ago, a bunch of powerful white men dressed in embarrassingly racist Native American costumes and wasted a lot of tea by dumping into a bay, killing all wildlife that might have lived there. It's to celebrate a revolution that was started by the murder of a freeman named Crispus Attucks, and it's to celebrate the first successful democracy ever created by a civilized nation. It's the day where we should all stand up for our rights and fight to bear arms!

[ The dog gets up and wanders over to Karson. He stops his rant for a moment to deliver a few pets. The dog promptly lies down and rolls over, demanding belly rubs. Karson delivers. ]

So get your fireworks, hold them high, and set that shit on fire--- except don't do it while it's in your hand, that's incredibly dangerous. Enjoy the light show tonight, and remember that thousands of people have died horrible, gangrene-filled deaths for freedom with a dash of democracy. God bless America, or whatever higher leveled deity you might worship.

abidan

[ Emery's looking much better than he did the last time he tried a video message. His eyes are bright and healthy and he seems to have regained most of his bounce, and that's after helping Aeron deal with the fallout of the Sage attack. He'll say it's to do with the summer sun — he's been rolling around in vitamin D — but in truth it's more to do with having finally learned how to master his gift. ]

Look, the weather's gorgeous today— [ He turns his netbook to get a shot of the view from his bedroom window: there's a burst of bright white lens flare that soon focuses itself properly, showing a blue, cloudless sky and a few birds wheeling around in arcs. Emery's quite excited about it all, so much so that his accent seems thicker, running into Welsh; ] So I'm thinking about taking my stuff to the park.

[ Ah right. The "stuff". The whole reason behind this message. ]

That's what I wanted to ask you about, actually. My café always gets involved with the PatchWorld Festival, which is in a couple of weeks, and this time I'm thinking about doing a sort of ... sister stall? By myself. [ Have a private smile, wry around the edges. ] I thought it might be a nice distraction.

[ Horror is good for his creativity, okay. ]

But I need to know what'll sell! Should I be knitting colourful tea cozies or ... I don't know, making fancy clay tea-light holders? I could paint them, too.

[ Emery smiles, then sets his laptop down on his bed before crouching to rummage around under the bed. The last thing you'll see before the feed cuts is the messy mop of his hair; ]

Let me know what you think?

argents

[ July 1st.

This time, Banagher's number is copied down on graph paper. What appears isn't anything handwritten, but a rough technical sketch. An empty jumpseat of some kind, crowned by three screens and what looks like an impossibly advanced panoramic HUD. The rest is left sparsely detailed — no buttons, concrete controls, or clues as to what this cockpit (what else could it be?) belongs to. Save for the odd one-on-one occasion, he's been tight-lipped about what exactly has splashed itself uninvited across his memories, never knowing for sure what to trust when it came to himself. Never quite believing he could have been this... thing's pilot.

Off to the side, around some messy notes, is a scrawled out line of text in another language: À mon seul désir. There's a poetic ring to it, nearly romantic.

It's odd, placed next to a piece of technology so futuristic. ]

It's weird. I had to wrack my brain to remember this thing enough to put it on paper, even if I can't forget it. [ A pause, possibly to tap his pencil. ] If you asked any kid when they were younger what they wanted for their birthday, a giant robot probably ranked pretty high, right? Not so much when you're 18, though. When things like this aren't even supposed to be real...

[ Let alone crazy brain powers. At least he was getting used to those. And more importantly: ]

...it could have come with a better name.

[ Which he is hoping like hell wasn't his doing. ]

butterfly_kindnesses

[All right, Sarah tells herself, you can do this. And even more, you need to do this. It's starting to get noticeable.

So just type. You don't have to look at anyone that way, and you won't have to let them see you, and they won't have to listen to your 'um's.

Suiting action to thought, Sarah starts her message. Those reading it in real-time will notice frequent pauses and a few backtrackings.]

Hi.

I know some of you don't like to see this kind of thing on here, but I don't know where else to ask.

How do you pick a hair dye? Because I need it and I'm not sure where to start or what to do.

- εY3

[There. The butterfly can be her signature, her mark. This all started with those butterflies anyway, at least for her.]

playerspooker

I'd ask if this was all some kind of weird joke or something, but it looks like people have beat me to that particular punch. Or is this some kind of online roleplaying thing? Maybe some kind of viral marketing thing for a movie? (If it is, whatever they did to get these freakin' numbers stuck in my head HAS to be illegal...)

reckless_fire

In case anybody was wondering--or hell, even if you weren't, I guess--the stuff you get back from those pulses, or whatever the hell you wanna call them? Looks like you can't get rid of them. I couldn't, anyway. Crap just keeps coming back like that stupid cat in that stupid song. So anyway, yeah, just FYI.

lackinginfaith

*Kari's watched the network for the just-under-two-weeks she's been in town, like a creeper. But she may as well say something some time, and she takes out a pen and paper, writing something down.*

Let's say I believe you about all this. The world, the danger, the enemy, all of it. Everything you've done.

Convince me why I should work with people like you.

jests

llawrensen
@[numbers] Given everything — werewolves, vampires and limbs — I'll admit to feeling as if I've lucked out wrt receiving sheer nonsense.

vanisland

[#ping (arbitrary number)

Invalid address. Proceed anyway? (y/n)

This was unprecedented. All of Miranda's IT experience told her it was impossible.

And yet, here it is. Now what could be so important to someone that it would be hidden like this...

Sadly, to her it appeared to be some sort of social network. ...okay, a kind of morbid social network, judging from some of the more recent posts. Still, she feels like it deserves some credit.]

Well, this is a surprise. No DNS registration and a completely new address format, and yet I've just stumbled over whatever this is.

Whoever is running this, congratulations on making something so well-hidden, but you might want to check the security a bit if anyone that finds it can just start posting.

coulrage

this is motha-fuckin-tight, yo. this network thing.
wassup with all the damn numbers tho? cant get them out of my head.
fuckin mIrAcLe, ain't it? guess these numbers are connectin people to each other n shit. spreadin the love.

damn tho i hope ther aint no police
kinda blazin like a motherfucker over here
yall adults r all cool, m i rite?

hoennmaihime

[So guess who's still sulking about the mine incident?

Who else. Sorry, guys.]

This shouldn't need to be said, but if you have yet to update your will then I highly recommend that you do so.

If you do not already have a will, I recommend writing a list of what you want done with your things after your death to give to your mommies and daddies. Because surely only the children and young adolescents among us are naive enough to lack them.

salvagedlight

[He's been resisting it for awhile, now. But that string of numbers just won't leave him alone, and it's getting to the point where even his dreams have gotten infected with it. So, finally one night, walking back to the closet of an apartment he's sharing with his brother, Ben juggles the phone out of his pocket without dropping his bag or his coffee and slowly punches it in, with a hesitation between each number.]

[Random passerby can be forgiven for turning to look at him as he yells in surprise as his phone screen is suddenly flooded with text, both hand-written and typed, as well as a myriad of voices coming out of the speaker only for him. The poor coffee goes flying and the poor phone is dropped as well - at least it drops on grass so it doesn't break?]

What's going on here?

angelskills

Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing well. For people just connecting to the network, my name is Colette. I hope we can get along! If you ever need any help with anything please feel free to contact me. I'll do my best to help. Um... though, for everyone who was involved in the Mine collapse -- what have you been telling your families and friends, in regards to your injuries? It's probably not a good idea to tell people who don't know about this network the truth, right? What do you think?

formermagicalgirl

I think we can all agree that the mines just sucked. Let's vent about that for a minute here. And any of you can rant away all you want in response about how much it sucked that we fell for a trap. I think we could all use it.

I haven't been able to sleep since then. I'm sick of seeing horrible things involving deaths. I'm sick of my roommate assuming that I'm doing weird things because a maid uniform suddenly appeared in my closet and she saw it before I could hide it. I'll definitely never live that one down and I didn't even buy the thing.

Definitely sick of bouncing between tired enough to pass out and like I drank a whole case of Red Bull without the need to pee every five minutes. That stuff is gross anyhow. And no, sleeping pills don't help.

If it wasn't for the fact that I can't just drop out of school and leave people I actually care about, I'd just go back home to my parents like I should have already done instead of taking summer classes. Can't even take a break from it because of what will happen when I return.

So anyone want to add any complaints beyond the we don't know if that guy was even telling the truth about that gem? Or if he was, where the others are and how to forge that seal he was talking about? It just sounds like something out of a fantasy novel, but we know what he said about the invaders is true enough.

[If you character isn't up at ungodly hours of the morning, they can reply later, not like Tamara is going to be sleeping anytime soon. At a more reasonable hour though, she's going to add a short private message.]

[Private text to Dr. Mort Yokugawa]

Is that offer that you made still available? If so, I think I may take you up on it because even with all that I just said, that only scratches the surface of things and I really don't think I should be trying to handle it myself anymore.

espigeonage

Good afternoon Numbers Club! It's Julien. I haven't put my voice out here much before, but it's gone and changed. I'm about to switch to audio so you can hear it. Be ready!

This is what I sound like now. Yeah, really. And here I thought puberty was bad enough the first time, haha!

[Here's a visual representation! The only thing human about his voice is how it's ended up shaped by his lips and tongue, like it's just some strange instrument piped through a talk box. There seem to be two identical voices rising and falling together, resonating oddly. And there's this flanged aspect like purring or rattling, or a throbbing trill, or a gator roar. It's not ugly, or... not totally. But he's got an incredibly sophisticated archosaur vocal system being used like a mammal voicebox.]

[Now he keeps to the same vocal range he used as a human and stops one of the voices. It helps, and he does sound more like Julien. There's still that trill and resonance, and it's not totally steady.]

But I've been figuring it out. Still have a ways to go, obviously. Also there's a little favor - I'd like someone to get me to laugh. There's something I need to find out.

[He's also gone and sent private texts to a bunch of people asking how they're doing/if they're okay. If you're wondering if your character is one of them, they probably are.]

reapsthewind

Who: frankly anybody, even if you're new
What: Going to explore a mine! Finding a Sage who claims to know what's going on! Except...
Where: abandoned coal mine
When: Wednesday during the day. SKIP CLASS, I GUESS.

I figure we'll just start with Chris' team doing exploration, until the modly folk decide to show up with the Sage himself, and then... go from there.

espigeonage

[Julien accidentally left a little lined notebook open in the clinic, with most of his number on the inside cover, missing only the last digit. It's not full of poems about Strider, but uh... there are a bunch that look like they apply to him. Also he copied down the poem from the letter and wrote "Outsiders? Robert Frost? Obviously a Smash Mouth fan" in the margins. Also, "No tattoos" was written under that and circled.]

[It does not appear that he actually meant for this to be read as a whole. There are grocery lists and little maps and doodles of wings, his niece, interlocking horseshoes, and Colette; there's a smudged sketch of The King with the caption "King. Hell? lost souls?". The poems are messy, they have messier drafts everywhere, he's got a heavily scribbled out page that appears to be about college debt...]

( A FEW POEMS POSSIBLY RELEVANT TO STRIDER: )

boredallready

Did this go straight to voicemail...?

Uhh, I don't remember whose number this is, but was I supposed to call you about something? It's really weird. I'm not sure why I remember it, but I do, so I probably need it for something important, right?

...Oh shit! Is this your number, Troy? How come I remembered it now after it was due? I'm sorry I forgot. But seriously, who cares about...that thing it was supposed to be about? A-At least she won't give us "F"s for the class! There can't be that much stuff left to grade. And now you should have my number in case we ever get paired up again!

So...right! See ya at school?

edhwierfan

Who: Aeron (

edhwierfan) & Colette (

angelskills)
What: kickstarting an acquaintance with some good, old-fashioned stalking
Where: around the city
When: This afternoon

( aka aeron wonders what his life is coming to, THE LOG )

espigeonage

Who: Julien and OPEN
What: Jules returns to Locke and meanders around trying to get his head together.
Where: Pretty much anywhere reasonably quiet and not dangerous.
When: Backdated to May 30, latter half of the day.

( Being good isn't tough/but it's also not enough/what's the point enduring birth/if I can't find out what I'm worth? )

flamberge

Who: Richard Locke (Karl Aurion), Colette Brunel, Romsca
When: May 24
Where: The high school and surrounding area.
What: A Vermedi sighting and then some.

( Weird monsters make things fun! )

odd_jobs

[A video clicks onto the network. Tadashi flashes the screen a wide grin and then a peace sign.

He's been watching and commenting a little here and there, but time to finally really say hello. He brandishes what looks like a colorful, big buttoned remote control. He clears his voice and puts on his best infomercial voice.]

Today in Tadashi's Inventions, a made-up-right-now program, I have a solution for those of us who can't spring for a cell phone contract and the computer's being tied up by annoying little brothers.

THIS! One universal remote, though any old one in your couch cushions will do the job. Any surface that can catch and reflect infrared seems to manage it just fine. Like right now, I'm using the microwave door. Cool, huh? You don't have to all praise me at once, but you can if you want.

Lets talk practical AND convenient, this is now being broadcast while I nuke a potato! Advantages, delicious and timesaving, as well as the convenience and privacy of being at home. Disadvantages, if caught, talking to your microwave is ridiculously hard to explain.

So, hey, use it at your own risk.

Okay, opening chat! That'll be your mute button if you use it. [He levels the remote at the screen and presses a button.] How ya doing, world?

unreaching

[Without quite realizing it, Renji’s “written” those numbers that he suddenly can’t stop thinking about on the ground while mopping the bathroom floor. Of course, when he happens to look down from his distracted thoughts, from what it meant that it’s coming back to him now after all these years, and sees more than just his reflection--

...well. Part of him isn’t sure he isn’t seeing things now.]

No way.

[He blinks, once, twice. Uses his free hand to rub at his eyes.] And....it’s still there.]
No way. Uh-uh. This ain’t happening. Yer kiddin’ me with this shit, right?

[It’s not clear who he’s talking to, really. Whether it’s himself, someone else, or the world in general. Some students walk in, and outright ignore the bizarre projection on the ground, and that leads Renji to just let out a laugh. It’s not a very pleasant sound, too-sharp and dissonant, and with a bitterness that doesn’t quite fit the apparent youth of his features, like a bone broken and healed all wrong.]

Maybe I’ve just gone crazy. I mean, s’about time. Woulda figured it’d’ve happened sooner.

...Wonder if you can get fired for that.

[With a sigh, he decides the network is just all in his head and gets back to mopping.]

earnedmystripes

ok wow

things that are really freaking creepy: spending ten days with basically fake memories of living a totally normal life for the last month and a half

also the goddamn suit thing randomly popping back on out of thin air when i got back here is not cute or hilarious at all.

this tsa guy saw me and freaked out

had to run and hide in a bathroom

at least the stupid belt isn't stuck thi

oh god

this isn't a

oh christ

this is a women's restroom

kill me

somebody

please

seriallylucky

[There's a little bit of panting before Fred starts to speak. Throughout, he's breathing heavily, as though he's posting while jogging.]

What was-

[No, wait, that's a bad way to start when you're a) alone, b) reacting to something in the real world, and c) not on video. Try again.]

I just saw something, I dunno what. It looked kind of like a little hairy man. Really hairy. Gave me one of those pulse feelings when I saw it, and then it ran away. Any of you seen it or have any idea what it is?

In Character Community

Entries tagged with tales of symphonia: colette brunel