futurology | Entries tagged with daenerys targaryen (asoiaf)

[ username reads: wanda ]

[ Having had time to recover from the fight, Wanda looks no worse for wear. She's outside in the abandoned village, out of the glare of sunlight, moving her fingers slowly. Thin red wisps of hex energy weave around her fingers. A small rock, part of a doorframe, and a water bottle are moving in a slow, lazy circle like they're being turned on an invisible Ferris wheel. ]

[ She's quiet at first, concentrating. Then, she pulls the water bottle into one hand. The other two objects keep circling. ]

What is this called, where you are from?

[ Her mouth curves in dry amusement. ]

Is it magic?

competing

[With all the information coming out, it's apparent to Keith and Lance that one big elephant in the room has been ignored: the infection among the recruits themselves. Keith is tired and on edge, as he needs nothing to do with the infection to be cranky. Lance is jittery, too. But they have to talk about that elephant before it gets too late.

And for some of them, it might be. That's what Keith is really afraid of right now.]

Hey. It's Keith.

and ya boy, lance! [Because things are already pretty doom and gloom as it stands, and maybe things could use a little lightening up? Or something...

It’s a little more difficult to differentiate between people in a group message like this, but it’s a better idea to get something down on text in case they need to refer to it later, and anyone who knows either of the boys can probably tell them apart pretty easily through diction alone.]

we know your mind-phones have been pretty busy lately, but theres something keith and i wanted to talk to you guys about.

Before we get a move on in attacking Zymandis' agent, we need to look at our own numbers. A lot of us are sick. Maybe less than I thought. Or maybe more. Either way, we have to know who's sick and make a plan to help our own. And I'm serious about HELPING. Not putting someone out of their misery or any of the other stupid stuff I've heard from some of this team. We need to stop this disease. We need to help our own. Once everyone's BETTER, we'll make a plan for what to do next as a team.

[It's harsher than necessary but likely less harsh than how it might be normally, given Keith's frequently frustrated tone of voice. Text mitigates some of it, even if his frustration definitely does become CAPITAL LETTERS.

Lance, meanwhile, is quite eager to gloss over that sharp reprimand because seriously guys — kumbaya.]

yeeeeeah, so — helping! getting a head count is definitely ideal. we cant afford to be silent on this and we definitely CANT be alone right now, cuz every one of us affected and on our own can be a huge risk to everyone here. so we were thinking… since the city shut it down, we can use the middle school. those of us infected can stay there while we wait for our people to find that cure. like a quarantine safe house.. i know its not ideal, but its something. especially for those who dont have any other contingency plans.

[A pause. Well. May as well get the ball rolling, right?]

ill be there.

( ooc; p.s. there is an information plotting post for the quarantine space! )

cachemoney

[Fiona is a little out of breath, like she just hustled very quickly away from somewhere. Which she did, but that's neither here nor there. The background behind her is some innocuous wood panelling; she's in a house.]

Okay. So. Crunch time. Things are getting nuts out there, if you didn't notice. We are gonna wind up super screwed if we don't hop to figuring out what the hell to do.

[She holds up a vial. It has some alien writing on it, as well as a familiar symbol on the label.]

We found this inside the hospital. A shit-ton of them, actually. So who wants to find out what Zymandis asshole is responsible for this mess and beat an antidote out of them?

[ ooc. PS, maya, hanzo, and mccree might show up in your threads. feel free to threadjack as well! ]

pummelling

[The magitek's pulled back far enough to feature not one, but two members of Audentes... or, rather, one of them striving vainly to nudge his teammate out of the feed. It's the tail end of the struggle, though, and Kung Jin is fighting a losing battle. It takes half a second for Asher Millstone to shove his way into view, taking up half of the screen and speaking up before Jin can truly get a word in.

The law student looks more excited than ever when he starts speaking, and even lifts his arms above his head in a “raise the roof” sort of gesture.]

It’s time to get wiggity wiggity whack, yo!

Don't. [He nearly slaps a hand over his friend's mouth, but reconsiders, elbowing him back instead.] So, Audentes. Since we're almost all set to leave on our next assignment, it's come to our attention that not everyone here is from a world that people like Asher or I consider "modern day".

Whoa, you? Wait a minute. Last I checked, there was nothing normal about you, man. People in your world, like, rip dudes’ spines out through their mouths and crap!

[After he says this, Asher immediately turns from Jin back to the camera, and waves his hands emphatically in its general direction.]

Don’t try that.

[Jin casts a dubious glance at Asher and moves right along in spite of all the interruptions.]

Even if you look the part, you’ve still got to play the part, too. If you're looking for any advice or tips to blend in properly on-planet, we’re pretty much experts-- so let us know if you need a hand.

[The paler of the two pops up right behind him, leaning on the other’s shoulder.]

That’s right, baby! We’ll teach you how to be 90s.

fateality

Now, I'm sure we've done something like this before sometime ago, but you know how it is; people come, people go, and we get new faces all the time. So it's a little hard to keep track of y'all sometimes.

But here we are, and I've god a question.

There's a good lot of us that got magic in us before ALASTAIR made, ah, any offerings as such. Maybe even got some magic in your world, sure.

Suffice it to say, I got some interest in what kind there is -- and what magic is like where you're from. How it works. The variety, the limits.

Always good to know about the trade elsewhere, as it were.

blessure

[Considering all that's happened there isn't much Félix can do to look as presentable as he would prefer when addressing the others here, but he has done his best. His sprawl is casual in the way of someone who likely spent a good amount of time making certain his clothing fell just so and his blond hair is artfully dishevelled to frame his face. While it's not quite the level of excessive presentation that would be expected in the circles he usually moves within, it will have to do. After a moment to allow the unseen audience to take a look at him, Félix finally speaks.]

While it has been terribly interesting to see everyone arguing about what we should do here, where we should all focus our efforts and such, I can't help but wonder why it is that there doesn't seem to be anyone in charge of our... [Here he pauses delicately.] Band of heroes?

I cannot confess much experience in military matters, but even so it seems strange to me to send a company of forces anywhere without someone to report to and keep them in line. Not to mention it seems as though it would help a great deal with conflicts such as the one we're currently facing if there were a captain or commander to lead us.

[Here he holds up a hand, forestalling what he imagines will be the immediate concern on people's minds.] Please, before anyone says it, no I am not suggesting that I take on such a role. As I've said, I have no experience in such matters, nor have I interest in leading here.

I'm simply curious why it seems as though we have little rank and order here, and if there is any thought towards if there might be some among us suited for such heavy matters.

competing

[ greetings, audentes, tonight's broadcast is brought to you by the letter Y

as in Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy tf does this place suck so much huh? huh!! ]

What's a guy gotta do to get some coconut oil around here, huh? Heck, I'll even settle for some shea butter at this point.

[ here lance is, sprawled across a bed he is definitely meant to be sharing (but TOO BAD KEITH you snooze you lose, except not literally, because if you were literally snoozing you'd probably already be on the bed). he's looking rather put out, but anyone who's seen him during the time bug incident knows this is 99% more petulance than actual unhappiness. he's got his arms folded behind his head, and a certain chubby space mouse flopped over the top of his head, snoozing.

this particular bad mood may or may not be provoked by any combination of stress, healing orb withdrawal, the perpetual possible threat of a teammate that may one day grow up to stab you in the face after he stabs you in the back, and a not-so-successful run-in with the local fare down in the desert saloon's cozy little bordello. (he doesn't want to talk about it.)

but also the skincare products. that is actually very important to him.

or maybe he's just feeling a little stir-crazy, and someone thought it'd be a good idea to hand the kid who can't keep his own mouth shut a device that can activate and send out messages from a single thought. ]

So who's holding out on the rest of us? [ him. he means him. he's noticed some of your skins, okay! that softness and tautness ain't natural! ]

Is it that thing they're mining? That argecite, or whatever? They all have pretty good skin and they're just inhaling that stuff... Maybe that's why they want it so bad.

[ now he's just late-night musing. but seriously, do you think it's easy to be this beautiful? ]

I wonder if we can get some of that stuff ourselves and grind it down. I bet it'd make a pretty good exfoliant.

[ science side of audentes, show me your argecite beauty hacks. ]

stonebird

(To say she is shaken is putting it mildly - and kindly. Alayne isn't sure she can stand on her own two feet when she lands - yes lands. It seems falling through the rift originally is not the only fright she will be receiving from this...adventure.

She is sick to death of adventures - or, no, perhaps Alayne isn't. She did visit the East and she chose to travel across the sea to see her father.

But this is...not the same. A sea doesn't have any magical or mystical properties. A sea cannot, in the blink of an eye, carry you from one place to another.

Though she is shaking in fear, she decides to reach out for answers - for hope - for guidance. She must be strong.)

My name is Alayne Stone. I am the daughter of Petyr Baelish and I hail from the Eyrie.

(There, beginnings are proper. She cannot be too panicked to forget her courtesies!)

What am I to do...? I thought it was strange to be hired for such a mission, but it has only gotten stranger. I feel I am dreaming.

(She must have hit her head. Yes, that is a comforting theory, however her dreams have never been so...surreal.)

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. ]

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.

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.

anti_altruisms

[ Normally, he doesn't have very much to ask the network about, but this is...more than a little puzzling. To him, anyway. ]

Have any of you ever seen an egg that looks like this?

( click for cute egg baby )

[ Yes, this is the same guy who posted two months ago about killing Michel. Yes, ALASTAIR gave him an egg baby. He doesn't know either, okay? ]

queenofsalt

[Lessa has set her jaw as she looks into the projection of the network, grey eyes sparkling with unaffected warmth as she considers this strangely intuitive communication system. How like speaking to dragons it feels, and how strange.]

Good morning. I hope all of that merry-making last night didn't leave any of you completely indisposed, as I believe that we have a lot of work to tackle in the coming days.

I am Lessa of Pern. I am the senior Weyrwoman of Benden Weyr, Ruathan by blood, and rider to Golden Ramoth. Though it means little to those not from Pern, I can assure you that I have earned every last of those titles, and though I acknowledge that this team is a company of equals, I think we can all admit that if we want to find ourselves home sooner, we could stand to delegate and specialize to our strengths... not all of us want to retire to sandy beaches we know will decay into abandon!

I'd like to speak with those of you who are versed in ALASTAIR's values and practices, and those of you who have spoken with the Nalawi at length and have learned anything more than what we have been given prior to our arrival. Locations, traditions, values, any records that can be used to track the progress of this island's troubles... it could all be valuable.

[She affects to toss a lock of fine black hair from her face, thinking herself particularly clever for re-enacting the kind of proud-chested talk that her weyrmate has employed in the past.]

Please join me for a mug and a plate in the lower room of the inn. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person so that we can consider our options going forward together.

[Before she shuts her communication down, the proud, slight smile brightens suddenly with a kind of abandoned amusement, like she's come out of a spotlight on a stage... and that's because she has. Lessa has never been in a position where she could stand up and take singular charge before, and the thought that she might be able to now is a heady feeling. Watch her sit rigidly in the tavern of the Inn from the time the broadcast is over until the moment someone approaches; she's going to be on the edge of her seat expecting the outpouring of earnest team-members coming forward to hand her clues to go gallivanting off on.]

FUTUROLOGY NETWORK.

Entries tagged with daenerys targaryen (asoiaf)

001 ✶ video

text | username: xXx_trueblue_xXx & redlion

video; un: fiona

video; un: white_lotus

audio; un: cardmaster

♔ video - un: lami.du.roi

video | username: xXx_trueblue_xXx

(Text) → UN: courtesy

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

video | un: man of still

audio; username: hb

text | username: archer

[Video; UN: lessaofpern] | Rallying the wings

Links

Most Popular Tags