Apr. 4th, 2012

sensuality: ac: kr0npr1nz (心配して ⇒ worried)
[personal profile] sensuality
video: 

[ The feed opens to Yuki holding Artemis in her right hand pointing it at the communicator. ]

So we meet again communicator. Does this mean....this is my supposed third time here? 

[ She drops Artemis and walks to the communicator. ]

Anyone there? Is this Discedo? 

action:

[ Anyone walking around Discedo will see Yuki with a small bag in one hand and Artemis in the other. Currently she is going up to random people and asking where Latimir is. ]
maychetnha: (Default)
[personal profile] maychetnha
[It almost feels like home, with the humidity and the rain today, but this place is too... concrete to be anything close to home. Is it strange to be homesick? After spending years just wanting to get away from the wars and get some peace and quiet, Vietnam has finally gotten it but this... is not the right kind of peace and quiet. It's eerie.]

[Two days after arriving, she realized that this pretty plastic-glass thing is actually a telephone that sometimes does video. A lot of deliberation went into this because if the people here are dangerous, then Vietnam may have just given away her location and signed herself to the slaughter. Audio was safest. Her curiousity wins this time, though.]



Allo! [Oh god, that sounded too perky and too French. Let's try that again in English. Vietnam can do this.] Hello. [That sounded like the right intonation, but a little too solemn, maybe try that--no, no Vietnam. Leave it be.] I am--[pauses, should she really say?]... someone, it does not really matter. [awkward laugh.] Can anyone say what this place is? Maybe a date too. This is... really not 220 BCE, is it?






[A long pause.] Thank-you.
crowsong: Gin glaring over his shoulder, his face half-hidden by his raised collar. (lay down in the web of the black spider;)
[personal profile] crowsong
[Initially, there's nothing shown but darkness. It's essentially an over-glorified voice post.] It's a good thing you have a sense of humour.

Because I don't.

[The cloth slips away from the camera of the communicator, turning red once it's far away enough for the camera to catch the light reflecting off of it.

When the image comes into focus, it displays a long, bright red trench coat hanging on the wall, a good distance away from the floor (so it can be assumed that whoever's holding the communicator is either very tall or standing on a chair or some other elevated surface), with a lovely fedora of a matching colour hanging off of it. The belt is pink, as is the hat's rim.]

I haven't had a smoke in days. The weapons shop is worthless. I've had a building collapse on me and a snivelling little brat. And now, you think it's funny to screw up my perception of colours?

[The camera shifts to a view of the window. A brilliantly bright red raven perches in the window, squawking loudly, looking like it robbed quite a few cardinals of their feathers.]

... I need a drink.

((Backdated to April first. ^o^;))

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