futurology | Entries tagged with badou nails (dogs: bullets & carnage)

[ the only thing worse than being stranded on a desert island in some random corner of the multiverse was being stranded on a desert island in some random corner of the multiverse without your divine powers. alas, for the last week of abandonment, Loki's been sour, quick to temper, and unshaven. several times his mind has wandered to the trials of his own brother and his binds to mortality through his former alternate human persona: Doctor Donald Blake. that had been a punishment and a lesson, here it just seems like he's hindered.

but today, he seems in somewhat higher spirits. ]

Fellow ALASTAIR members:

During my mid-morning walk in the depths of a rather sad and dreary jungle, I happened upon a certain something rather out of place. It was a hatch, made of metal, long unused. Not able to keep my curiosity from getting the best of me, I picked the padlock (I'm not answering any questions about this) and found an underground shelter that was once filled with provisions. As we're undergoing a rather awful streak of bad luck, it seems that there wasn't much of use. However!!! Pause for dramatics, please- there were some items still salvageable:

x1 ""something"" akin to a mortal lighter to set things aflame (kind of fun)
x3 containers of water (boring)
x1 a pocket tool of many tools (so-so)
x15 long, sharp objects that are known as swords, commonly used for stabbing

Our Dakal friends were prepared, in rather sharp condition, if you get my drift. :) All hands are welcome to remove them from their underground prison, and anything you can use to find to whet them- well, that's all the better!

Now, there's the question of the bunker and the jungle, but I suppose that's a story for another time.

[ while he can usually out-think his way out of anything, this seems to sate his current battle against his uselessness. ]

conqueress

[ The feed opens to show a young woman with salt-stained hair, tied into a braid. She looks slightly battered, in the same way that they were all tossed about by the storm's winds, but not undaunted. Her eyes are a strange shade of violet, gazing keenly into the feed. ]

For those I have yet to meet, my name is Daenerys. [ Her tone is not unkind, but it is authoritative. For now, she gives no titles, or even her surname. It scarce seems to matter at the moment. ] I carry no weaponry here, though I was brought to this island with my dragon. To anyone who might seek protection, I offer our defense.

[ She turns the ring so that it catches Drogon, once the size of a cat. To anyone who's seen him before, they might be shocked--he'd now rival a medium-sized dog. He's presently gorging on the charred remains of an especially ugly fish, with what looks like more than two eyestalks. Out of mercy for her audience, Dany swiftly turns the crystal back to her own face. ]

For now, Drogon and I are ensconced in the innermost part of the city, at the tip of the sea serpent's tail. Seek us there, if that is your desire. There are quarters here to shelter you, and many houses lining the streets, besides.

[ She pauses, scarce concealing a grimace as Drogon gulps down his gruesome supper. ]

To those who have no need of protection, or else no want of mine, I would ask for information. [ She sits up taller. ] Who has scouted? I cannot speak to how many threats we might have here, only that I have seen red beasts in plate armor, and little else. [ She'd seen them from a distance only; they hadn't troubled her. ] As to our resources, I have found nothing to eat here, save for the fish. [ Her tone goes slightly flat. ] Of that, it seems we have enough to feed ourselves for some days, though I cannot speak to how many were carried here.

[ There's a brief commotion, and the feed is bumped slightly. Scarlet horns tease the bottom of the image as Drogon, sated, moves to join her. The queen extends a pale hand, unseen, to pet his spinal ridges. ]

If there is someone with magic remaining who can help to preserve the meat, we shall have great need of your services. Somewhere might be designated to house it in the city, some identifiable place, that it may be easily found before it spoils. I would gladly offer my own quarters to host some portion, if Drogon would not claim the feast for himself.

[ He has always grown quickly, but now he grows so fast that she fears he would decimate any food left to their care. ]

Yet I will admit it is water that troubles me more. Of seawater, we have much and more, but nothing to drink. [ A small furrow appears in her brow. ] Has anyone found an alternative? Sunken wine, perhaps? Ale? That shall be of paramount importance.

[ Her mouth is already dry, and so she conserves the rest of her words. For now, khaleesi has said her piece. ]

[ OOC: This is mostly her attempt to gather information and learn ideas! Threadjacking is totally fine. ]

ackingcraycray

[A little waterlogged, sorta banged up, and a touch too close to the camera is Mabel Pines. She glowers, frowning until the edges of her mouth nearly meet her jaw.]

Dipper Pines.

If by chance, you can see this, then please. ANSWER YOUR DARN MESSAGES YOU BIG FAT POOPFACE!!!

[That said, she retreats to a more comfortable distance. It's clear now that she's inside a small, darkened building. A glass window has been blown out to her left. Judging from the piping behind her and the boiler in the back, this was some kind of utility hut. A power source, perhaps. Pawing his way up into her lap is an equally soggy and forlorn looking lion cub, who's trying to make a nest out of her sweater. Mabel cuddles him with one arm and rubs at his ears as she speaks into her bracelet. A smile has been fixed back onto her face and the usual pep she speaks with has usurped the ire.]

To anyone else who gets this, hello! If we haven't met, I'm Mabel. How are you? I hope you're doing dandy. That storm was a real doozy, huh? A real old people sweeper. I got swept onto a whole other island! A creepy, weird, underwater but not underwater island with a whole bunch of terrifying buildings and dead fish. I think they're fish.

[She turns the camera to the corner. There lies a greenish-blue blob the size of a Great Dane, with six pointed spines and one blind eye turned to the ceiling. Its fishy mouth lays open as if it died mid-scream.]

Look at that. Isn't the world majestic? Who knew such rich wildlife was swimming several hundred miles under our feet?

Anyway! I'm fine. I think everyone should come check this out though, there's some weird stuff going on here. Besides the obvious. There's a whole lost civilization here, and I'm gonna check it out some more for you guys, but right now I'm just uh. Warming up. Taking a ten. If anyone has any tips on how to start a fire I might try grilling up the catch of the day over there. Sorry Samson. [She clucks her tongue at her expired companion in the corner. She's named it already.] Fish gotta swim, birds gotta eat. Y'all are welcome at the barbecue by the way! There's plenty of blob here for everyone!

[And, with a not-so-subtle clearing of the throat and a definite dimming of cheer:]

Also if you see Dipper, please let me know and tell him to call his sister! He looks like me, but less cool and with a hat.

That's it for now. Later guys!

((OOC: I'm gone most of today but I will be here late evening and all the rest of the week!))

figureitout

Okay, seriously, is this for real?

[ Hello there, fellow recruits! Today, the network brings you a fascinating video of... a hand. A hand that is waving, though less in a hello-how-are-you way and more in a I-am-so-done-with-everything way.

The hand pulls back, though, revealing an arm clad in green-grey plaid shirt (don't knock the plaid, okay, the plaid is eternal)... and eventually, the face of a teenager. Who is currently making the most judging face you will ever see in your life. ]

What kind of bomb needs fish hearts and sea urchins? It's like someone just threw together a list for the most random and incidentally dangerous things they could think of. And do you even need these anymore? Is the bomb a thing? I mean, the briefing I got was... uh, let's just say hurried. [ More like non-existent, but, yeah.

Stiles pauses, like something has just occurred to him. ]

... Right, probably should've started with that. The "hi weird jewel amulet I literally just got here and have no idea about anything" thing. And also the "I really hope someone actually sees this and I'm not sitting here and talking to a piece of jewelry" thing. Does this work? Is this working?

[ He leans in and pokes the jewel. ] For my own peace of mind, I'm saying it's working. I mean, magic jewels is, like, the least weird thing about all of this. [ Wish he'd shut up yet? Sorry, you are currently subjected to the Talkamus Stilinskimus, a very un-rare case of rambling that occurs whenever Stiles so much as opens his mouth.

Your wish is about to be fulfilled, though, as he claps his hands together. ]

Anyway! Go... team? [ ... such eloquence. But in his defense, no one ever told him talking to invisible people you don't even know actually exist would be this awkward.

That is the last sight of him anyone on the network sees, though his voice still follows, almost like he can't stop the think-at-the-jewel-and-it-will-broadcast quickly enough. ]

... is there a team? Man, I hope there's a team.

nichocolatine

[ oh hey alastair. 'sup. how's your day going? probably loads better than badou's, if the sudden video broadcast of what has to be the saddest image to grace this freaky network is of any indication. he's on the ground somewhere outside, probably deep into the island's forests from the look of all the dirt and greenery, but it's kinda hard to focus on the setting when you factor in the rest of him.

real talk? he ain't looking so good. bruised, beaten, and bleeding, he looks like he got into a fight with a demon-possessed blender and, not only did he lose, but that blender pretty much made him its bitch.

speaking of — son of a bitch that hurt. and not just in one area, either, it was one of those great "all over even where the sun don't shine" kinda pains and it's a wonder he hasn't cried or died from it already. he looks on the verge of it though, both of those, probably gonna be at the same time but for now, for the blessed moment of now, he manages to keep it together. ]

So, uh. s'There a doctor in the house?

[ help, he's fallen and he can't get up.

he's moving, at least, if the stilted way he tries to wiggle a hand into one of his pockets can even be counted as "moving." it takes him far too long, with a lot of guttural muttering, but eventually he manages to fish out a single cigarette. this he shakily lifts up to his mouth, which unfortunately bobs precariously since he can't seem to stop talking. ]

Preferably one that ain't gotta wave a wand at me, f'you catch my drift, I'm thinking I reached my """"magic"""" quota for the day, thanks. [ bitter? who? him? ] Just a head's up — if walk in on a blue tattooed thing wandering 'round looking like he might wanna murder ya, SPOILERS he's gonna wanna murder ya so, y'know, don't.

[ shaky hands bring up a lighter, and the flame comes dangerously close to his nose as he tries to light the cigarette hanging from his lips. ]

Sonuvabitch made me waste an entire magazine on him too, where the hell am I gonna get more of that 'round here, huh—

[ he cuts off suddenly, watching in horror as the cigarette falls from his mouth, landing uselessly beside his head. it seems the last of his strength leaves him in that moment, his hands also falling uselessly to his sides.

he draws in a deep, shaky breath, staring up blanking into the sky. for a second, just silence.

and then, in a glorious wail— ]

I FUCKING HATE IT HEEEEEEERE!

strikingtwice

[Even after the introduction and brief period to adapt, Meallan isn't quite convinced that this isn't the Fade as he finds himself in a strange, new land. The buildings in particular don't help much, seemingly growing out of the earth or nature itself, like some new twist on the stories of how his people long ago made their homes in the trees, bending their shapes with magic.

But then he sees a person that looks like they're part deer somehow go by in the distance and the idea that maybe this is somewhere else entirely seems a lot more likely. He feels like he might be gaping just a little, like a shemlen who's never seen a Dalish clan before.

Giving himself a little shake, Meallan reaches for the amulet around his neck that had been so helpful so far and lifts it to his face, doubtfully turning it over in his fingers. Apparently all he needs to do is concentrate on wanting other people to see and hear him and they will, but he can't honestly tell if it's working or not, even if everyone else is likely seeing a very doubtful looking elf right now.]

Hello? [He pauses and shakes his head.[ Creators, that voice should have said what to do if this doesn't work. Or how to tell if it doesn't. Who knows if there's anyone else lost out in wherever this place is, shouting at their jewelry for hours on end.

[Still silence, so he lets the amulet thump back against his chest, hand rising to card through his hair.]

All right then. Either someone will answer or they won't, I suppose. In the meantime, there has to be more people around here somewhere.

chaoscontrol

Hello, Nalawi team. I have returned to you. Did you miss me?

[he smirks. You probably didn't miss him. He's a jerk.]

Due to the abundance of... very deep water in this world, I requested a transfer to a drier environment. My request was granted. However, while the clime was more to my liking, the people were not.

Let's just say they made all of you look incredibly well trained and even competent. I have never in all my life seen so many completely fucking useless people in one place.

....

I may have killed a man.

[he isn't sure. He didn't stay to stick around to find out.

ahem]

.... So I heard that the plan is to try and trigger tectonic activity with some sort of explosive. [a grin] I approve. [it sounds dangerous AND irresponsible!] Let's rock and roll.

[[ooc: NOW IN THE RIGHT PLACE WITHOUT DUMB TYPOS HOLY SHIT]]

heelies

[ What broadcasts over the network is the picture of a peculiar pair: Achilles and Helga, serious of countenance both, as is each's modus operandi. The metallic shell of the submarine's curved insides serves as their backdrop. ]

I should like to call to assembly the members of this crew, and I understand that this is the best means by which to reach the ears of all men, although it is more to my liking to see those to whom I give these words. It is Achilles, son of Peleus, who wishes to speak to you: I have journeyed, with a crew led by gold-clad Gilgamesh and fair-haired Kida, to the darkest reaches within the sea, which lie beyond where the imagination of men can fathom. I shall tell of that to which we have borne witness.

Down there dwells Ryba, the goddess of the sea, who is Nalanni's sister. She knows not to where Nalanni has gone, for her eyes cannot see beyond that over which she presides - but we have her reassurance that Nalanni who delights in volcanoes has not vanished in full from this land, for she would know if such a calamity has come to pass. We are told that sea and rock are anchored one to another, as life is to death: either both must make this land, or nothing at all remains. Therefore, hope has not scattered to the wind.

Wave-ruling Ryba soon grew weary of our audience, and although she welcomes supplications the price she demands is steep. It is imprudent to test the generosity of the gods. Thus we parted with little solved: still, the answers she granted ought to be shared among all.

[ Helga looks as if she would have loved to interrupt him a fair few times already, but she kept quiet in spite of herself until now. Achilles, for his part, looks none too thrilled at having to share the floor thus. ]

Ryba has not been straightforward in her answers.

[ Surely, she hasn't shot a sideway glance at Achilles when she said this. ]

What we gathered from her is that the Dakal have been driven to (or near) extinction by the Nalawi during the war between them. They had been "sent to the bottom of the sea", either literally or figuratively. It checks out, if I'm allowed to hazard a guess: on our way to Ryba's lair, we came across plenty of wrecked submarines, none of which seem to fit in with the near complete lack of technology on Komo and the other islands.

The goddess mentioned one specific Dakal, who sold her soul in order to return to the surface world. In the process, she may have been granted powers by Ryba herself, but we do not know what became of her, what those powers were, or if she did anything with them.

I have been told by the Nalawi innkeep that minor gods exist alongside Nalanni, albeit no one worships them here. Ryba proves that they are tangible to the point of concern, so I urge all of you to take great care during your exploration.

aspearation

[ Undyne had said she wanted more guidance from ALASTAIR. Here she is, with more guidance, and she doesn’t know if she likes it. Looking more ragged than ever, she’s standing with Pearl, with the volcano Nalalona in the background. ]

Alright chumps, listen up, it’s time for some teamwork! ALASTAIR has some ideas about what we can do to get the volcano going again, so everyone can get their powers back. ...it’s going to involve a bomb.

[Pearl clears her throat, despite the fact her body is flickering in and out of view at some points during the video. The Gem stands tall as she gestures back to the volcano.]

This is correct. ALASTAIR has entrusted us with schematics of creating a bomb and a catapult. It’s up to us to gather the necessary supplies and assemble them.

They have observed a high level of tectonic plate activity here, near the Nalalona volcano. With enough force -- the bomb in this case -- we can possibly trigger an eruption and restore the natives’ Gifts, along with our own magical abilities. The volcano’s opening is large enough for us to hit our mark with the bomb. It’s up to us to put it all together.

We can’t afford to not try. Look around you, half our team relies on magic just to exist. This isn’t just about helping the natives use magic anymore, this about saving ourselves. If you don’t use magic, good for you, but if you have a heart, you’ll understand why this is important, and why if I catch anyone slacking off, they’ll be answering to my spear about why they don't think it's important. Got it?!

[Pearl glances to Undyne and offers her a weak smile. The situation they were all facing was quite dire. She faces the feed again.]

I know we have the ability to make this work. And we will, if we all work together on this. Every little bit helps!

[ OOC note: There will be a mod-posted mass log on the 16th for gathering/construction/etc. Pearl and Undyne will be around, and feel free to use this post to chat among each other as well! ]

[ OOC edit: The NPCs Crowley and Cherenkov speak! ]

hellshaped

[Hellboy is largely uncomfortable putting his face out there for public consumption, so he defaults to audio. His tone is businesslike but friendly, and there's no indication whatsoever that he's anything but human.]

So we've been here about a month now. Nalawi, I mean. Now that things have settled down and we aren't dealing with typhoons and other things [he's talking about parties], we should probably convene and talk about this case.

Has anyone found anything that could point to where their goddess has gone? Things are getting pretty hairy here; I've seen some pretty strange stuff that I think can get out of control if we don't find out a way to help them soon.

Any clues or ideas would be helpful, so don't be afraid to share what you've found. Even if you don't think it means anything, maybe it'll help someone else solve a puzzle.

Even if we can't find a way to bring their powers back, this place is headed for some really bad stuff if we aren't careful. So let's figure it out.

defenceless

If anyone knows how to melt gold, get in contact with me.

[~~because someone lost her fire powers.~~ yep, that's it. for the most part...

but a brief addition to the message appears a second later.]

If your suggestion is to make something phallic out of it, feel free to still reply. That way I'll know who to mark for execution.

FUTUROLOGY NETWORK.

Entries tagged with badou nails (dogs: bullets & carnage)

TEXT. UN: LOKI. FILTERED TO LOST ON AN ISLAND.

video, un: daria | gilligan's island crew;

Video, for Gilligan's Island Crew Only; un: pugsnhugs618

video | un: man of still

video | username: NAILS | sometime after powers go all cray

video | un: lavellan

video| un:terios

( video ) [ BACKDATED TO LATE ON 4/9 ]

video

audio; username: hb

text 💎 un: Tohsaka Rin

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