Quest 235

Nov. 22nd, 2010 06:02 pm
primrosella: (Strong)
ExpandPrivate || Hackable by Friends )

I'm sure by now most people have seen these around the City; it's quite difficult to miss something like that, I imagine, when they're littering the whole Square like leaves from a tree. And likely that was the whole purpose of sending them in the first place, too--just to add a bit of insult to injury, and make us all the more frustrated at everything that happened this past weekend. And it worked. Something like this treats the whole ordeal as though it were nothing more than a joke, as though people weren't suffering and worrying and frantic throughout the whole thing, and it was all just another one of the City's games that lasted awhile and now has come to an end.

I remember a time once before when the deities took 'donations' from us. It was a whole month of tasks to complete--borrowing something from an enemy, making a loved one cry. And I remember the last was that they asked for our hair, as a donation to some unknown cause. And then that was the end of it. Or so we thought, until a few months later when suddenly all our hair was returned to us. It had been taken wrongfully from us, we were told, and some balance had been disrupted by it.

That was a long time ago, almost two years by now. I remember it was January or February, one of the winter months, because Sam and I had to go outside and bury onions in the snow because I never wanted to see them again after I puzzled out what he'd gotten them for. But I wonder what might come of all this, now, since the deities have made certain to thank us for donating our blood to them. Were our accounts really so out of balance that we owed it to them? Or have they cast things out of balance themselves by taking it from us? Because if it turns out to be the latter, then I expect this won't be the last we hear of it. Our dues may come due again, after all.

I wonder.

In any case, no matter what happens this coming Thursday, our Thanksgiving party will be going on as planned. Please do let Penny or me know if you'd like to come, if you haven't already--everyone's invited, but it would help to have a count of how many people to expect, to make sure we have enough of everything to go around. And please do come, if you think you'd like to; I think we could all use something to look forward to, at the moment.

Tamaki, if you'd be so kind as to introduce me to your friend Miss Maria, I'd be very pleased to meet her. I have a package here with her name on it, as it turns out, and I'd like very much to deliver it.

For anyone else that needs me, please feel free to call. I'll be in the Library most of the day, I think; there's something I need to take care of.


[OOC: Well, someone's in a bad mood. People dying needlessly at the whims of the deities kind of does that to her. >> If you're in the Library, feel free to action her up; if not, have a Network post! ♥

ALSO: regarding Thursday's dinner, is anyone interested in doing a (possibly heavily backdated, considering the holiday) log for the party? I can put one up if there's interest, or assuming is cool, either way. Just let me know!]

Quest 234

Nov. 19th, 2010 06:36 pm
primrosella: (Fragile)
[Accidental Video Post]

[It's just a bit past noon when the video flickers on--then off--then on again, wobbling in and out of darkness before finally bringing into focus the sight of a train compartment, and a slightly rumpled-looking girl sitting on the soft blue cushions, gazing intently out the window. Her own silence makes the noises of the train around her more pronounced--the rattling, the clanking, the whispering rush of air--and careful observers may notice that this girl's face is a shade paler than it normally would be, that her fingers are twisting in the fabric of her skirt in rhythm with the noise.

She hates this, the roar of the engines, the hum of machinery. There's a reason she never goes down to use the subway system beneath the City, even if it means a much longer walk above ground to get to the same place. There's a reason she has avoided this at all costs. She hates it here, buried underground in these tunnels, surrounded by the sound of the machines she loathes so much.

Her fingers twist again, the knuckles turning white, and the video dissolves into static.

But then, a few seconds later, it flickers back in again, and now Rosella's hand is pressed against the glass of the window as she leans toward it, as if that extra few inches will somehow give her a clearer look at--whatever it is she sees. Her voice, when she speaks, is quiet--and a little anxious.]


It's...it's a trick. It can't-- [A crackle of static; the video flickers.] --al. Can it? No, it can't, it's not...

[She slides closer, both hands cupped against the window now, her face pressed close with her fingers curled to reduce the glare off of the glass.]

They did this last ye-- [Static. But a bit of audio filters through, even if the video is still obscured.] --re we going?

[And then, after another few seconds, the video clicks on again--just in time to see a faint shape, deathly white, SLAM against the window from the outside of the train, and to witness Rosella jumping a mile at the sight, recoiling with a shriek that is half from surprise and half from horror.

Another flicker of the video, and now she is curled on the bench with her knees pulled to her chest, her hands over her ears, and she is mumbling frantically under her breath.]


It has to stop sometime. It has to stop. It always stops, don't look, don't-- [Static.] --ere, it's fine, it's fine, there's nothing there, it's nothing, it's--

[The train rattles, the door creaks, and the video flickers once--twice--and then finally cuts out.]


ExpandOOC TL;DR )

[And mods, if I've gotten any of this wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it. o/]

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Princess Rosella of Daventry

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