Thanks, Tommy. That means a lot.

][ AUDIO | Glass City

[Starts with a strange sound, a crackle or a tear maybe, masked by a burst of static.]

Heywaitwhere--

[Running over sand isn't very easy-- the unsteady surface giving way slows him down as much as anyone else. Running over glass, going is a little easier, but stopping...]

Whathappenedtoallthe--

There's a loud, resounding crash and shatter, the tinkle of shards spraying all over the place as he doesn't quite vault a park bench in time, followed by a heavy thud and much closer crack of plastic as he (and the device in his pocket) hits the ground.]

--sand?


[ooc; broke the speed limit, now laying somewhere on his bruised and confused butt. Open to action if one person would like to find him, network otherwise <3]

[Community Post]

][ VIDEO

The lesson for today:

Pink hair on girls? Awesome.

Pink hair on guys? Not so much.


As usual, the first person to see me and say Billy what did you do to your hair? wins all the punching I can manage in five-minute interval. Which, if you didn't know, is kind of a lot.

][ VIDEO

[At first it's hard to tell what's going on-- the screen's filled with a warm darkness, an indistinct shadowy shape moving restlessly in the background. Before a viewer has time to do more than wonder at it, a wide rectangle of bright light spreads over the screen, illuminating raw wood surfaces and piles of hay, and a large gray horse snuffling in the background.

A boy comes in through the now-open door with a bucket, which he hangs in the horse's stall. He absently pats the animal's nose, then turns to look at something off the edge of the screen.

The horse, apparently irked at not being the center of attention anymore, cranes its neck and leans over to bite the boy's shoulder.]

Merde!

[Scowling, he wheels around, and--

the video chooses that point to cut off. Oops.]



[ooc; Tommy is a stableboy and has forgotten he ever wasn't~ and yes, he bit it back.]

So in not-lame news, it's been almost a month and Godzilla hasn't destroyed our apartment or anything. I guess randomly burst into flames is a thing rabbits grow out of. You know, if they're the kind of rabbit who ever bursts into flames to begin with.



So even if he's not a super-rabbit, Godzilla's still pretty cool. And makes life slightly less mind-numbingly boring in between curses. Which is, actually, probably the lamest thing about this place-- there's nothing to do and nowhere to go, when nothing's happening.

Yep.

So, 'sup, City?



[ooc; YEEEEAAAAAH FOURTH WALL, hit him with all you got. Uh, doubles scare me a little but Tommy can probably handle it, and really... I guess anything goes! ALSO this post, like all my posts, is 5000% backdating friendly!]

][ACCIDENTAL AUDIO;

Hnnngghhhhhhhhh....... urrrrrrrrrrrrkkkk......

[Quiet, rising from the depths, the moan of an eldritch horror waking from its nightmares, the wyrm who circles the earth chewing on its tail and groaning in its infinite solitude-- no, no. Just Tommy, moaning quietly in abject misery.]

whhyyyyyyyyy...... [it rises, its crescendo a sharp whine, interrupted by the scuffling and muffled rustle of blankets as he tosses and turns in bed.

After that there's a loud sneeze, followed by a prolonged coughing fit.]

not... faiiir...

[Another (rather pathetic) sneeze, and the recording ends.]

You can pace the room if you’d like, but it’s barely a cage; long enough to lay out on the floor in either direction, but not much bigger. At first it seems empty; but after a time the shallow sound of breathing is perceptible, coming from one of the walls. There’s a bed there, little more than a cot, with a supine body on it. Was that there before? Didn’t you walk along the edges of this cell, running a hand over the smooth walls?

It’s still too dark to make out his features, but if you reach out to touch him you’ll find he’s dressed in plain scrubs, bandages here and there on his limbs, and an IV hanging from the wall beside him. He’s totally unconscious.

If you’re anything more or other than human, whatever abilities you have don’t work here. There’s no way out. The walls, the plated door, are too heavy for any shouts to pass to the world outside. There’s no one with a key. No one who cares you’re here, even if they know-- and somehow that thought, when it occurs to you, is worse than anything else. You’ve been left here, and no one’s coming to get you.

You’re stuck.

Now what?

[ooc; open to all, will treat different threads as different ‘instances’ of the dream~ i will prob. be getting to tags in the morning and will backdate forever but I wanted to start gettin' these up~]

So many things are not okay about the last few days.

So many.

I may never be dry again.

][audio;

[Thud. Thump. CRASH. Pause, the faint creak of floorboards.]

owww...

CRASH.. Thud. Commence whining.]


He-eeey... what's going on..?

][audio;

[At first, there's just a rush of air over the mic. It stops short for a long moment, instead picking up only the normal background noise of the City. Then, softly and irritably,]

Oh, man...

[The rush picks up again-- in the other direction, not that you can really tell. It pauses again. Then picks up for a minute. Then pauses. Starts again. Then, having traversed the City four times or so, Tommy stops and sits down on a convenient bench, not tired but certainly frustrated.]

Sooner or later one of the others will-- Hey, what's-

[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP]




[ooc; open for action but please try to leave me a little wiggle room to maintain continuity? ;D also feel free to mistake him for Billy, now and forever and ever. <3]