savetheearth | Entries tagged with teen titans: starfire

[ Given how much FBI and police blood, sweat, and (mostly) tears went into quelling the vermini outbreak in Locke City, similarly suspicious occurrences in Las Vegas are bound to inflame a few fears, even all the way in New Jersey.

It's how this YouTube video ends up sliding across the FBI's desks this Tuesday morning, not 12 hours after it was filmed and put up. It will probably be going viral shortly. ]

Two very important public service announcements this morning. The first, for those of you in Vegas, is this video.

CW: bunny violence.

[ The following is a shaky phone cam video of a blonde man in a top hat and a glittering, sequined tuxedo. He’s mid-patter, about to set up a card trick, when he suddenly starts to sneeze. He apologizes and tries to blow his nose, except his handkerchiefs keep turning into doves and flying away. Finally, with a look of dawning realization, he sweeps off his top hat (first tipping it to the audience, demonstrating that it’s empty) and theatrically reaches into it.

“Why, it’s as I suspected! You see, I’m terrrrrribly allergic to — AAAAAAAA!”

He yanks his hand out of the hat, hurling it to the ground. Something white flies out of it and attaches itself to the man’s throat, bowling him over. There’s blood everywhere, the man is still shrieking, and at this point the video gets too shaky to see clearly, one hopes because the particular audience member doing the filming is too horrified to continue, but actually it’s because he (along with the rest of the crowd) is laughing too hard. ]

I know the cops aren't exactly our favorites around here, but if you end up running into something you don't think you can handle, call the police. Or animal control or... I dunno, somebody with a net. Personal safety first, secure your own mask before helping others with theirs, etc. etc.

Second public service announcement: be kind to our fluffy animal friends, because they have feelings, too. And also teeth.

[ THAT ONE'S FOR YOU, ALEX I-DON'T-NEED-FLUFFY-DUCKS MERCURE. ]

Oh, and our good friend Mr. Mercure is mostly fine, before you ask. Turns out everything's more dramatic in Vegas.

chernobolt

Who: Sailor Tamaran (

chernobolt) and Sailor Azarath (

titansno)
When: This afternoon I guess?
Where: All over Locke despite Rachel's best efforts.
What: GIRLY SOCIALIZING TIME aka Kara is going stir crazy from finals and is forcing Rachel to be a normal extroverted person with her.

( and send it soaring up through the atmosphere, up where the air is clear )

sucrosity

[ Video feed opens on - what looks to be the frame of an RC car, with a bug net attached to a lever on the back. Visible from above is a mass of exposed wires and a single microphone. (That can't be safe.) From the playground distantly visible, it's probably running around in the park somewhere, and for a moment the car running back and forth across grass, its lever swinging, is all that plays.

Then Yoko leans into the frame from the side with a small smile, and starts to talk. ]

So there's a whole lot of... serious stuff going on now. [ She looks down, then backs up, more serious. ] It's scary, no matter how much I remember that's scarier.

[The video moves until it gets set down on something, and she turns her whole body toward it, sitting down cross-legged. The RC car climbs the slope behind her to continue chasing its prey - she's very prominently not holding a car remote. ]

I think 'we can all work together!' is kind of... naive, I guess. So instead, I'm just gonna say 'don't be afraid to ask for help'. [ She turns her head to watch the RC car, which is creeping along the wooden ledge around a plot of bushes. ]

J, be careful! [ She turns back, shaking her head. ] Help is... kind of why I'm, you know, here, actually. Juicy said not many people downloaded the app. If things are getting more serious, then - he needs to learn everything he can. He's kind of annoying, but he's a good friend, so... if you have space, think about downloading it? Dad said J's not keeping any tracking data because the only place that matters to him is the one he can move by himself. [ She points with her thumb over her shoulder toward the car. ] If he learns enough, he might get his actual body back sooner, and then no one has to worry about the noisy robot asking stupid stuff about what they're doing. You know? He's like a robot kid.

[ And speak of the devil - clearly visible behind her, the RC car goes toppling over onto its side. A speaker plays the chorus of the Beatles' Help, and Yoko sighs, then gets up to go right the car, brushing dirt off of it. ]

Juicy, how many times is that now?

[ A robotic voice howls 'my stag beetle!', then Darth Vader's 'NOOOOOO', as Yoko carries the car back to where she was sitting, talking as she goes - ] Oh, shut up, there aren't even any stag beetles in Jersey!

[ She sets the car down, and it immediately moves around her. J starts rattling off the Wikipedia article about ants as he moves toward the camera. Yoko just talks over him. ] If you wanted to know about... the app... or J, then I guess I can tell you what I know. J, stop standing in front of me! [ The lever on the RC car moves, and the camera goes crashing, before turning off. ]

bombgasmic

So this is the secret hangout of the secret but infamous group of superpower users back when the city almost blew up, huh? This is less dramatic than I expected, but since I'm here this calls for some introductions and an important message.

I'm Nice. I try to be nice too, but setting that aside my name is Nice and it's pronounced like "niece," for future reference. Nice to meet you :)

Now, I guess to keep this a little fun and to get to know some people on here better, I was browsing the net today and asking myself hypothetical questions so I guess I'll share one with you guys. Here goes?

>> If you knew you were going to go blind in two months, what would you do? What would you want to travel and see?

gogoghostpowers

Who: Danny and WHOEVER WANTS TO GET DOWN
What: Somebody is having a SWEET SIXTEEN
When: April 22nd
Where: a decently big house in the nicer part of Locke City

( posted to the network a few days in advance )

shuffleon

[of course this is text. Paul is a grumpy old fart who doesn't want to do voice or video. plus...most of the people he's talked to have been young enough to be his daughter and he doesn't want to make this weirder than it is.

so, text it is.]

How many of you are from Las Vegas?
Because I can't be the only one who's never been to Locke City before

arrowpoint

[Liam leans over his tablet, and makes a few swiping gestures at it while he speaks. He looks a touch wary, but not particularly frightened.]

Okay I have a feeling I've found something I shouldn't have, but I think it's kind of too late now to back myself out of this. So, you guys are all a part of all the weird stuff that's going on, yeah? Are you guys the ones with superpowers like on the news or... what?

What does it mean if I can see all this, anyway?

transcender

[There's a brunette almost glaring at the screen when it flips on, but you just get a quick flash of the person before he's flipping the camera to a blue and navy flight suit complete with a matching helmet which is laid out on his very messy bed.]

I was going to ignore this but I guess I can't now considering this damn thing showed up on me while outside- in public... does it mean anything to anyone on here?

[He holds the phone on the suit for a moment longer before he's flipping it around to face him again. Deren has his hand up in his hair, resting heavily on it from his somewhat hunched position at his desk. The wall behind him is covered in posters and IKEA style shelving and the room he's in is pretty tiny.]

Also- anyone on here know anything about space and giant robots? I remember a few from when the snake attacked but I have no idea who they are on here and god I have a migraine- just help? [He both looks and sounds exhausted, and a little irritable.]

[[ooc: edited to add in the link to the flight suit.]]

featherduster

[ Eriks doesn't know why he puts the number into his phone. It's been a constant presence at the back of his head for a good week now, sure, but he's made an art out of ignoring it. No, more accurately, he doesn't notice he's put the number into his phone until his thumb has already done it: having already scrolled through everything that needs reading in the morning (work emails, the news, Tumblr of course—), he's left with nothing to do but fidget. And fidget he does, right into a goldmine of information that his bosses would skin a man for.

He forgets all about the eggs cooking on the stove and deposits himself in a kitchen chair, skim reading like no one has ever skim read before. Watches a few videos, follows a few links, listens to a few audio posts, and gleans too much and too little all at once. He can already tell his nights will be occupied with plenty of reading material for many weeks to come. Sleep? Not anymore, bud.

Still... reading is one thing. Watching is another. But conversation is absolutely indispensable, and he needs to talk with these people. But he needs to approach it carefully. Delicately. And, from the looks of things, not mention that whole 'with the Feds' thing.

With this in mind, he flips his phone camera to video, puts on his best charming smile, and initiates First Contact with exactly as much seriousness as he should. ]

Ladies and gentlemen, hello! I admit my disappointment that this isn't the beautiful, mysterious barista's phone number I thought it was, since I was pretty sure I memorized it. I guess she gave me a fake number, after all...

But here's the good news: this eligible bachelor has just become available in your undercover supernatural neighborhood! I enjoy long walks on the beach and extended discourse on the virtues of life and love. Hours of illuminating conversation are 100% free of charge, and there's even a platonic package available for the less daring. Inquire within for further details.

[ A beat, as black smoke billows from the abandoned frying pan behind him. He doesn't turn, doesn't even shift, but there's a brief second of tragicomedy in his expression when the smell of eggs-cum-charcoal hits his nose. How long has he been... ah, hell.

Composure utterly unwavering, ]

—And whoever recommends the best diner will receive a limited edition free coffee! Act now while supplies last; you'd be a fool to pass this one up, folks!

I apologize for the (exciting) interruption and you may now return to your usual programming.

[ Gives a winning smile as the video goes off — and then topples the chair (and very nearly the table) in his scramble to deal with what was once his breakfast.

Quite the catch, ladies and gentlemen, don't miss out!! ]

gogoghostpowers

[It is 3 am. Danny's hair is disheveled, and he is in his freemasonry-symbol pajamas. His face is lit only by the glow of his laptop screen. He looks crazed, and it's not certain whether he actually looks like that, or that's just because of the lighting.]

Oh my god, guys, I just--I figured it out!

So, there were those pink lights in Vegas that we all saw, right? And pink lights mean something's alien-related. So alien-related stuff is showing up in Vegas, which is only like 200 miles from Tonopah Air Force Base, where the real alien testing was done during the Cold War when they were using Area 51 as a decoy!

Guys. This--this can't be a coincidence. Who knows how deep this goes. It might even go beyond the Locke police department, beyond Sherman and even Edwards. This could go as high up as the military--or the secret service, or the president himself!

I don't know what's going to happen next or what it all means just yet, but I know it's connected somehow.

flamberge

[Good evening, Network! The face of one Karl Aurion pops up on screen, said face not being seen at all today since both the high school and the police station got a call about him being sick today. It isn't too hard to see why that call got made.

Though no sign of sickness is visible, he does look... odd. His red hair is now an odd, if slightly unnatural shade of red, his face is void of any former signs of his age, the visible portion of his shirtless torso (none of his shirts really fit well anymore whoops) looks like it belongs to a dedicated body builder and, most notably, his once green eyes are now a vibrant shade of red.]

Is anyone here aware of an optometrist who would not ask questions about someone possessing an unnatural eye color or at least know of a location where I can obtain cheap colored contacts until I can locate one myself? Being seen in public, at the station in particular, with this eye color would draw suspicion and is something I'd rather avoid if at all possible.

[The hair can get explained via bad dye job and good clothes can cover up the muscles but the eyes? Yeah, not so easy. And yes he is only just now making a post about this despite waking up like this cause reasons. Ah, and just as Karl is about end the connection, he remembers something else he'd been meaning to say.]

Also, some time ago, Sophie proposed the idea about those of us in possession of enhanced strength forming a club of sorts to help the other deal with the ability and minimize the inevitable property damage. Though I presently lack the time to search for a suitable location to hold this sort of meeting and organize it, should there be any interest, I can attempt to figure something out in the upcoming weeks.

infuser

[ the lights are dimmed significantly in the building he's in, save for some overhead ones nearby, but it's not too important in terms of his footage. hatter is leaning down on a countertop, arms crossed, looking not-quite-stern but perhaps rather unhappy. this time, he has a hat atop his head which is hardly situated at a jaunty angle, and every few seconds he fusses with it, moving it a touch in one direction and then another. ]

So, for curiosity's sake and my own... insatiable need to hear opinions other than my own- [ that would be mild sarcasm. ] - what's the first step after you discover you're hardly who you believe yourself to be. Do you tell your friends, random people on the street you bump into? Keep it to yourself and hope for the best?

Do you paint your house a different color to match your newfound personality? Perhaps a new wardrobe- something with paisley and far too much plaid.

I'd like to know what it was you first did when you found out you weren't who your birth certificate claims you to be. And i'm not talking about the shock and awe - that's awfully boring. I mean what did you do after that.

Because i'm sure there's more than a few variables out there that I could use to my advantage. I'd love to hear my options as.. as you can see, my new wardrobe- [ he gives a small nod, his hat sliding down a touch ] -seems to be purely unavoidable instead of a lifestyle choice. One can never be too fashionable when changing who they are on the inside.

chernobolt

[the video feed opens up to a picture being held up to the camera, obscuring everything of the person holding it besides her hands. not only does its artist have...obviously less than stellar talent in the drawing department, but there seem to have been several mediums involved in its construction; there are various colored pencils as well as glittery ink and crayons which should be familiar to anyone who received a Valentine from Kara.

the (very obvious) culprit moves the picture down and brings her face into view - Kara has her hair up in a high ponytail today and looks especially excited. she bounces in her seat a few times before she begins speaking]

I understand that there have been some new incidents unfolding as of late, but please forgive me for the diversion. I promise that this is very important and that if anyone requires my aid in the other matters I am more than willing to lend it!

It is just...I have finally remembered my teammates!

[she giggles, pressing the picture against her mouth to stifle them a little bit]

I had nothing but names before and now I have the visuals, as I believe it is said. The ones I have not met in this life are these three here: Cyborg, Robin, and Beast Boy.

[she holds the picture up again briefly. Kara isn't actually certain she's got the names right, but through process of elimination and the fact that one of these guys is literally a fucking cyborg she's fairly confident]

If you have been remembering people such as these, or if you have been remembering being one of these Titans, please contact me immediately! I wish to become wonderful friends with you once more and have the bonding and discuss all that we have recalled collectively. I even promise that I will finance our first group cafe outing!

Thank you for your time!

gogoghostpowers

So first off, I guess I should say I'm okay. Sorry for not saying so earlier, I was kinda dealing with some stuff. My parents are going nuts with everything that's happened, I've been trying to keep up so I could figure out what's been going on with their theories. Here's what Unlocke The Truth has been saying lately:
( i tried to make them as short as i could, i really did )
Also, I didn't check in earlier because I wasn't really sure I was 'okay' for a few days. I don't really know how to explain this...

[He switches to video.]

Okay, remember how I found out I'm dead a few months ago? Well, uhhh...surprise? Turns out, I'm actually something else. [He backs up a bit so that there's a wider view of him in all his white-haired, spandexed glory. Not for long, though, because a couple of flashing lights and sparkles later, Danny is looking as normal as he ever did before the network. His hair is black, his eyes are blue, he isn't glowing, and the spandex is nowhere to be seen.]

Apparently, I'm only half-ghost, whatever that means.

bhk

you're the ones who fought in the city last weekend, right?

[He thought very hard about handing this number over to somebody. He scrawled it on the top margin of a wrinkled grocery store receipt; its words and numbers shifted like code into the Network. He has it in his hand while he writes this in the back of his planner for Locke Academy.

He would have said something about the receipt, if only he hadn't recognized some of the people on here. He's hoping this is some hoax or gaming forum or something. And maybe he's curious about how half of the city went to crap. Either way, it took a while to get himself to write anything down. This is really freaky.]

i found this on accident. [He's convinced, anyway. Because he's normal. 100% normal. Yup.] i'm not a news reporter. i just want the story straight and i won't bug you guys again.

was the snake one of you? someone said what happened was thundercorp's fault. what actually happened?

[There are way too many theories and versions of what happened floating around the city and the internet. He can't get a clear picture anywhere. If this is Superhero Martian Robot or Whatever HQ, he may as well try to get the story straight from here.]

evowhisperer

Greetings, numbers club. This appears to be a social network designed to support a group of highly unusual individuals. I've been studying it for a few days, now, and I have a few questions that I would like to have answered. Firstly: Does anyone know how this network is possible? It has no reliance on means of access, cellphone or internet reception, duration left activated, or common sense. I recently accessed it by scratching my number onto a papaya's outer peel. Fruit mutilation aside, how does anyone create a network whose only obstacle is how much patience the user has for browsing a papaya? Question two. Does anyone know what really happened on the 9th? It's obvious that you all have something to do with it, but the specific dynamics are unclear. Lastly: What are echoes? Thank you for your time.

greenisthenewblack

I guess I'm a couple days late checking in. I was a bit... indisposed. [Hungover, indisposed... same thing.] I'm alive and in one piece, obviously. Don't think my cover was blown, either. How about the rest of you? Kids? Look, a lot of shit's going down, and it's not much, but there's some space in my apartment if someone needs to lay low for a bit.

Someone I know. No offense, but I'd rather not have a complete stranger with who-knows-what powers sleeping on my couch.

Oh. And for anyone who was taking bets... [She holds up a green, glowing hand - glowing right through the gloves, actually] These babies are blasters.

So I might be a ghost.

Alien.

Thing.

gunhearted

[You know what's absolutely and completely weird? The fact that there is not a single typo in Jacuzzi's post today.

That's because he's so far beyond panic attack he's settled into a state of complete calm because this can't be happening to him.]

i told my parents.

they kicked me out.

what am i gonna do, guys?

stopinthenameofawe

[It's been a long, long day at the police station, and the press hadn't been helping things along. Melissa's usually good at dealing with public relations problems, but this... this one threw her.]

So who thought it would be funny to tell the press there's a sex scandal going on in the police department?

[yeah guess who everyone now suspects of this. luckily for whoever it is, melissa is more exhausted than angry.]

strikeraid

i'm looking for a lot of people and i know a lot of you guys are too
maybe instead of jacking up the network with a thousand I'M HERE DON'T WORRY posts we could try
keeping them all in the same post or something idk
maybe make a check in??
make it so even if you haven't seen someone and they're not answering messages someone else can say they have and we can try and figure out where they went from there
idk
i know a lot of us are trying to stay hidden so it's probably not gonna help if we start putting up descriptions of ourselves but it's kind of an emergency? maybe we could just use our numbers instead idk

[ FEELING INCREASINGLY STUPID. Organizing shit is not his strong point, he's honestly hoping someone else takes the idea from him. ]

[ private, individual network texts to: Helene, Chuck, Kara. ]

yo
still alive

[ /private ]

[ private, individual network texts to: Karl, Kotetsu. ]

are you okay

[ /private ]

[[ ooc: there's no rush on these! :) please feel free to leave a generic starter or ignore if you don't know how things panned out for your characters. tags may be slow for a few hours. if this ends up happening, threadjacking is key. ]]

theearth

Who: OPEN.
When: March 9th, Sunday, daylight hours.
Where: The business district of Locke City.
What: An enormous snake monster is pissed.
Warnings: Violence.

[The alien explodes silently - but it explodes.

First in a small cloud of hot (rose-scented) gas - those there to watch its final moments will want to step back.

A ripple in the air pulses - heavily - from where it once was, with absolutely no sound and color, but penetrating force. Anyone standing within two miles of the point of origin will feel a push, with those closest guaranteed to be knocked off their feet and temporarily dazed. Cars swerve and crash. Staff in the nearest office buildings launch into disarray. There’s no shielding from the blast - it can be felt through walls, through structures, in the air, and underground.

And it is felt underground.

The entire business district starts to shake, abruptly, jarred to a stir by some movement. It rises over the span of a long half-a-minute to the magnitude of December’s earthquake.

Tuning Towers experiences the worst of it - windows are smashing and objects are shaking loose and falling from the upper floors.

It finally ends - with screaming - as the head of an enormous pink snake breaks the lobby floor.

It flows its way quickly out of the hole it’s made, breaks itself another hole ever so politely through the main entrance doors, which were not meant to accommodate a twenty-foot-tall-and-wide exitor, and as it draws the last of its tail out after it, the quaking dies down.

It’s now roaring its way through the streets of Locke City’s business district - all several hundred meters of Wise Snake, emerged in the flesh (or stone?).

No regard for the walls of buildings, streetlamps, civilians, stopped and blindly pulled-over vehicles, anything else on its course - in a frantically-awakened, unrestricted rampage.]

[ OOC: This is part two of the Season 1's finale. The first - the assault on the farmhouse - is here; pertinent plot posts one and two. ]

everythingsjake

Hello?
Is there anyone reading me?
Im jake harley and i would really like some sort of an explanation if anyone has the time.
If someone could just level with me ill get right on the trolley i swear!
Im just a little off the wire with this whole numbers thing.
I mean i am completely sure there is some sort of rational explanation to the whole shebang.
Conspiracy theories after all dont really hold much water especially in an educated society and honestly if this wasnt happening to ME i probably wouldnt believe it even for a second!
I would honestly think whoever was trying to feed me this line was trying to sell me wooden nickels and my shops completely closed for that.
That is to say im testing all the nickels sent my way.
Biting them firm and testing their mettle!

Blimey i think i might have gotten just a bit gummed up there.
Though honestly i cant imagine this is working.
I mean gosh all i did was type in a series of completely unrelated numbers (and believe me i checked, there were SEVERAL diagnostics i could run but none of the mathematical equations *I* know produced any truly identifiable links between any of these blasted figures) into the computer and for all i know im currently chattering away at dead air.
This wouldnt be the first time thats happened if im completely honest but ive never gone on and on expecting some sort of response!

So....um....
I guess on the outside shot that this isnt just a ruse and i havent gone COMPLETELY bonkers...
Is anyone out there?

titansno

[hello, network! Rachel's got her laptop off to the side and a camera mounted in front of her and that is...certainly a deck of tarot cards being weave-shuffled on their own. just because no one else is in the room, she's got a cigarette dangling out of her mouth.]

Thanks to some people, and they know who they are... [she takes a drag on the cig, dropping off some ash into the tray.] I feel like doing readings. Who wants one? It's fun.

[well. that's simple enough.]

titansno

Who: Rachel Roth, Brooke Reynolds and Kara Miroshnychenko
When: Evening of February 15th
Where: Rachel's house
What: Bad horror movies and an irresponsible amount of discount candy.

( there's one of them now! )

allformii_ko

[There's a new girl on the Network - or at least, that's what it looks like at first. Two poofy pigtails on either side of her head in a darkish color, and some light, simple clothes that aren't particularly suited for the current weather... She appears to be curled up in an alleyway somewhere, her eyes filled with tears.]

Elly can't see the Network anymore. She told me I can't talk to anyone who can't see the Network, b-but that means I can't talk to her, either!

[Her voice, however - that may be familiar to some. Is that...

Mimi?]

I-I finally figured out how to turn into a human, but now I can't talk to Elly! I wanted-- I wanted to be like her, but...

If I can't talk to her anymore, what's the point-?

[Her voice is stammering, filled with half-sobs, her shoulders bouncing with the effort of trying to keep her breathing even. And with the cold as it is... It's surprising she isn't freezing out there to begin with.

At this rate, it might take a bit before she can explain things more clearly.]

stormcloud_ofcaring

[There is a golden eyed man with a large nose staring at you. The expression he's going for is neutral, but the way he purses his lips gives away his unease.]

I do not know who can hear me, but I was instructed to put a set of numbers into my computer, which...has led me here. I was told to do this by a young man who was convinced that he knew me...

[His voice is low and his accent is obvious, with wide, nasal vowels and 'd' replacing most 'th' sounds. His eyes start to roam around the edges of the screen as he considers how to continue.]

It was not a pleasant conversation. I was accused of being a danger to children. This is very insulting; I work with children. It is my job to treat them and make them well. I don't know who is listening, but I will not stand to be insulted again. I am here for answers, not for being told I should not be allowed to do my job, or that I am 'evil'.

[Now that he's made that point, he shifts, picking up something metal off screen. When he lifts it to the camera, the large, heavy amulet spins on its chain. It's almost as big as his fist, with an eye-sized orange jewel at the top of it and several smaller, similar stones embellishing both sides.] This appeared a week ago. I have no idea what it is, or where it came from, but I can't...shake the feeling that it is mine.

[He sets it back down, out of frame.]

Can you tell me what this means? Can you tell me what's happening to me?

((ooc: Ghannam ran into Luke, who recognized him and told him about the Number's Club. Sorta.))

darkinferno

Who: Dante + SO MANY.
When: Friday, February 14
Where: All over Locke City!
What: Dante’s got plans for today. Little does he realize the world has more plans for him.

[A]: ( 10a-11:30a; Locke City University; open )

[B]: ( 12p-2p; some upscale restaurant who even knows; closed )

[C]: ( 2-3p; Locke City public library; open )

[D]: ( 3-4p; DA BUS STOP; closed )

[E]: ( 4-6p; ye olde coffee shoppe; open-ish )

chernobolt

[Kara's staring seriously into the camera when it clicks on, hair pulled up into a messy bun and arms spread business-like across her desk. on her left is an impressive stack of children's valentines (you know the kind, the ones with cartoon characters you buy in boxes for the class party) and on her right is an equally impressive bag of fun size chocolate.]

Greetings, fellow clubmates! I am sorry to be taking up your attention like this, but considering the date I am afraid that it cannot be avoided.

[the way she's speaking makes it seem like this is a life or death scenario, but then she keeps going and...]

In only a few days' time the Day of Valentines will be upon us! We do not celebrate such a holiday at home, but I have done the research on it and know very well that not receiving an affectionate greeting card can cause irreparable damage to one's soul and ruin lives!

[that's how it seemed in the many, many movies she watched that touched on the subject, at least]

I do not wish for my dear Numbered friends to suffer such a tragic fate! There were a great deal of charming cards and sweets on sale which I have taken the liberty of purchasing, and I implore you to allow me to write you at least one of them!

We may arrange for a drop-off point if you are leery of having your identity revealed, but please do not let pride keep you from accepting it! There is only so much time in which I can make these deliveries. I promise that my penmanship is excellent and any good tidings I write will stave off the horrible life-crushing feelings!

disgeyes

As, I believe the kids say these days, a "newbie," and not knowing anyone here as of yet, I believe I can be an unbiased judge of the kind of postings that are common to this network.

For people who are supposedly destined for greatness, there is a great deal of goofing around and whining. We need a fresh breath blown into our campaign. The sun of new life to shine through the clouds of not-this-shit-again. A flowing forth of artistic fervor to battle the every day drudgery. I suggest poetry.

I'll start.

"It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of Lock City that day.
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Locke City that day,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed."

Really makes you think.

[ Shamelessly stolen from the greatest creator of bad poetry. What Houjun lacks in originality and humor, he makes up for in--well, nothing. Still, he tries. ]

chernobolt

Who: Kara and Jacuzzi
When: Sometime today (February 8) I guess.
Where: Locke City Community College
What: Dorm invasion! Er. Kara makes good on her ~~threat~~ promise to bring over snacks and brainstorm about helping Jacuzzi be less panicky. She's also probably going to teach him wrestling moves.
Warnings: Aggressive friendship. Really aggressive.

( you've got a friend in me. whether you want one or not. )

wirsinddiejager

[Alan stands in front of the camera, wearing his usual nerdy Batterman t-shirt and looking unusually sheepish.]

Okay, uh. Since certain pretentious scumbags have been having trouble believing that I could totally kick their ass, I've been asked to provide some visual evidence.

[He lifts the hem of his shirt and the camera zooms in, showing what is quite clearly an 8-pack. When he lowers the shirt again after a few seconds, a disappointed 'Boo!' can be heard in Octavia's voice from off-screen. Alan shoots an embarrassed look in its direction.]

Octavia, I told you I'm not taking my shirt off on the network!

orangehoodie

putting aside all questions about this network, aliens, and whatnot because i'll figure it out eventually anyway and i'm sure you've all been asked this a gazillion times

who puts hot sauce in coffee? that's... gross?

yerawizarderi

[Needless to say, this is a little strange and he stares at his ipad for a good few moments before deciding to make a post on the network he's apparently just gained access to. Of course, not reading anything like the FAQ or whatever. He hardly has the patience for that. Pshh. Besides, why read that shit when people could inform him themselves? See? Much easier.]

alright so
here i am doin nothin but browsin tumblr at the local starbucks
rebloggin some shit enjoyin my cinnamon dolce cappuccino
when i saw some random ass post that reminded me of these bleedin numbers from for fuck ever ago
not even sure why it did considerin it had literally nothin to do with these fuckin numbers but whatever
so here i am again thinkin id fuck around and see if they DO anythin
low and fuckin behold what the shit is this
some sorta secret network i had no idea about with a one way ticket to it through some arbitrary as fuck numbers that i never was able to forget
im surprised to say the damn least of it
always kinda thought those numbers were utter poppycock at best just some stupid shit i remembered for no apparent reason other than to drive me mad
fancy that i was wrong that dont happen often

whatever enough fuckin babblin who the fuck are you people and what the fuck is this?

ex_purity762

On this network I've seen a lot of things. People have always seemed divided on issues, and how to treat the Blood Keys looks to be no different. There's been a lot of anger here, and to be honest, I can understand that.

But others have expressed why they feel it's wrong already. There's nothing I could really add to that. So what I would rather do is ask you all a question.

Who do you want to be?

I don't ask what you want to be, because I'm not sure how much of a say we have in that. But we can decide who we are, and maybe knowing each others' answer to that will help us better understand one another.

So I'll start. I want to be someone who can help others. It doesn't matter how big or small that help is - but I want to be capable of that. Not just for my family, but the people around me who need it.

I'd like to know your answers too, if anyone's willing.

[ooc: Not sure if I need to mention but if you guys want to reply to each other, feel free to!]

gunhearted

[Oh my god there is gross sobbing. So much gross sobbing. No seriously the biggest, hiccuping sobs for a good half a minute before he can even get a word out. He's scrubbing at his eyes and it is doing all of nothing.]

I-I don't understand what's goin' on anymore. Nothing makes any sense! I-I-I-I--

[Fuck he can't figure out how to words so after a few shuddering gasping breaths and searching blindly for his inhaler in his pockets, he shuts down video switching to text.]

i DON'T KNOW WHATS GOING ON ANymore I don'tknow how to be a delinquenti 've never evenjaywalked

i don't know what to do i just wNTED TO NOT GET MUGGED??????

I THINK PAST ME IS GOING TO DIE

I THINK HISF RIENDS re going to get him killed

I CAN'T HANDLE THIS LEVEL OF STRESS.

siesinddasessen

Listen up.

Especially you, Sho, because this is entirely your fault. [Yup, she's saying this here because of reasons. Just wait a moment.] Remember telling those kids about your Karate Bugman superhero guy on Halloween?

Guess whom they went to catch now. [If this was voice, she would just sound really tired now. Not because she has slept so much, because this is a whole different kind of stress than what she handles normally, even more when she thinks of what will have to happen the next day...] They have been missing since around three. Police and cohorts are useless as usual, but I've been able to track those little pests down. Sometimes you just need to ask the right people the right questions. [Even when that is expensive. She will never admit to how she has actually not only put time but also money into locating those little brats. ...and is going to put in even more. If anyone asks, it is because she fears that she'll get in trouble if they vanish, since it was her who encouraged their speculations about this superhero. It's what she's telling herself.]

Anyway. They seem to have concluded that bugs live in the sewers, and have last been seen entering and inside sewers and subway tunnels and similar exciting places. The last localization that I have is an hour old and in one of the less-used subway tunnels. We know what that means. They need to be gotten out of there quickly, and civilians are hardly the best choice for that. [Not only because she doesn't want to get into any contact with police, or answer questions. Also because she heavily doubts that they would be as effective or even be inclined to do something, if it interferes with plans... after all none of the children have parents, or parents of power, behind them.]

Me and Sho, who will obviously take responsibility and go down there, will meet up at William Street Station tomorrow at seven. Look for a van blasting the Tinymon theme. Everyone who wants to see those little pests not being eaten by moving snake statues on their watch, report there, and as quickly as possible.

Because there's no space for useless people here, and the numbers should make sense and such. We need fighters. Then people who can handle and calm down kids, and also carry at least one. And also someone who can heal. Lastly, someone who can drive the van [just don't ask her why she has one and how it got there if she needs a driver] and will wait with it at the surface for us in case we end up somewhere where we have to get away from quickly. Everyone who comes down there with us needs to be prepared to the best of their abilities, even if they are assigned to handling the kids.

[OOC: Please, if your character participates, have them check in here so they can figure out ICly what their task will be and such.

~~While the rescue mission has enough participants to work now, ~~up to two~~ one fighter can still be added if someone wants their character in, so don't feel shy, they're welcome!~~ All slots are now full. The information post for this player-plot is here.

And The log is up!]

centurian

[ Even if there were other important matters on his mind, Gerald Vakarian had been thinking about one thing in particular since the New Year began. So, after a productive day (or as productive as police officers stating "we've told you all we know about ThunderCorp, Agent Vakarian" in ten different ways can be"), he figures it's time to give this strange network a whirl yet again.

This time, he connects via a piece of paper, and he can't quite say that it makes him comfortable. Thankfully, his bold text doesn't quite give that away. ]

SO, SEEING HOW THIS IS ALL NOT A DREAM, I WAS WONDERING IF ANY OF YOU COULD TELL ME WHAT SORT OF THING THIS IS.

[ What follows is an assortment of images clearly glued onto paper by someone who is not a professional artist. ]

[ . . . ]

ACTUALLY... SCRATCH THAT.

( cut for more fail!images )

duette

[ Good eve, Earthlings. There's a new voice on the network, and it's just on this side of pissed. Despite the irritated edge, the (young) speaker is trying to keep it prim and pretty. ]

You know. If it's some initiation right to throw disembodied arms at new people, you can keep this whole "network" to yourselves!

[ Someone is connecting for the first time, and already wants precisely zero to do with it. ]

Whether or not it had anything to do with it — but look here, I honestly can't imagine that it doesn't — I don't have time to be playing around with shady eco-terrorists, or whoever you guys are. Especially if you have the time to mess around with innocent peoples' heads, with these numbers!

[ Saying nothing of how terrified she was of a real live possible zombie apocalypse.

If not a rather timid and disorganized one, lalala♪ ]

I want out.

pokebonnet

Who: Ivy and Lyall, Elian, Helene and Kara respectively
When: Multiple days over the end of December and beginning of January
Where: Expresso Yourself, later accidentally in the Dead District
What: Ivy meets other Numbers Club members face to face--mostly on purpose. (Sub-threads in the comments)

It's taken some help from Artie, but Ivy thinks she's starting to understand Locke City geography (or is it geology?) well enough to start going places on her own, without needing her little grandson--which is how she still thinks of him, no matter how big he's gotten--to give her a ride in his schoolbus.

Which is good. She does love him, but she'd feel a bit awkward if he sat in on her meeting with other Numbers Club members.

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