» the city network

[ Not long after getting to the Welcome Diner and gathering his thoughts, he flips on the device to begin what will surely be one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. He hasn't bothered to clean himself up much but, with Daniel's help, he probably doesn't look like a serial killer anymore. Still, it's obvious the man has been through hell. ]

My name is Ethan Chandler. I-- [ He swallows, then begins again. ]

Last night, something wicked prowled through the streets and attacked several residents. It was me. I don't look as I did last evening and, despite what I said, I can't recall who I encountered or what events took place. I change, you see, when the moon is full. I can't control myself; God knows I've tried.

[ He lets out a sharp exhale, grimacing when it aggravates some of his injuries, but powers through. ]

Ever since my arrival, I've done what I could to make sure I couldn't hurt anyone, taken precautionary measures to restrain myself so this wouldn't happen. But it did. Something happened last night, and I made a mistake that put people here in harm's way. The blame rests entirely upon my shoulders and mine alone.

I'm not deserving of your forgiveness, but I'll ask for it. If you encountered the wolf last evening, please, reach out to me here. The phones are impersonal and I would prefer to extend my apology in person, to look you in the eye when I give it.

[ Now, to another pressing matter: ]

Mr. Gray and Miss Ives were present before and after what happened. I can't contact either one of them. I've tried.

i know we lose our powers and stuff
but did anyone else have someone else in their head and lose them too?

do those people show up here?

just in case

[ Then, because grandpa raised him to be a polite boy - ]

sorry, this is yuji itadori! nice to meet you!

This might be a silly question. But how do you suppose we should be counting our birthdays here?

I technically should be 19 now, I think.
But if it's Halloween, I'm still a bit away from my birthday, too.

Should I be 18 or 19?

So on account of being mildly inconvenienced for a whole three seconds, I have quite magnanimously taken it upon myself to rectify this little problem.

That is to say, the streets need names.

There's a lot to get through, so I'm open to suggestions. Shoot me your best or worst or funniest ideas and if there's a particular road you want to call it by.

Except for the road I live on, already decided that one's going to be Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis Lane.

[ there's a monk. a buddhist monk, dressed nape to ankle in ceremonial robes, bare feet on hard tile floors. the penthouse behind him is classy and tasteful, but a jarring modern contrast to his clothing. it doesn't take much movement to realize his right sleeve, however, is completely empty. cheerful and chipper, he smiles and waves at the camera. ]

Hi hi~! Oh. I've been here since the first of us and not properly introduced myself on the network. My apologies, I'm a bit shy. [ yeah right. ] I'm Getou Suguru — [ the bow of his head is just deep enough to not be impolite. ] — a shaman from Japan. Back home, I specialized in hauntings and strange phenomena, as well as karmic work and even some chakra alignment. If you're suffering from strange aches and recurring nightmares, compulsive thoughts or stranger whispers, unprecedented cravings...

[ he's extremely animated through each of these symptoms even though he rattles them off like a medication commercial: acting out an ache in his nonexistent arm, a hand over his eyes for the nightmares, holding his head for thoughts and whispers, and... something a little more devious for cravings as he winks. ]

Please don't hesitate to visit.

[ a map link identifies his location. he's not very worried about stranger danger, is he? there's a long beat where he just smiles, and it seems like the feed might end, but then he acts on another thought that's been rolling around in that silly head of his: ]

Ah, and... Satoru.

[ to throw himself at the mercy of the public image is... a lot. he must know it, this man who values his pristine image. is it apology enough then, to make himself look like such a fool? he slides onto his knees mid-screen, clapping his hands together in prayer. are there tears? there might be tears. ]

Can't you please finally forgive meeeee?

[ what an embarrassing note to end on. ]



[ note: this character is a villain who hates humans so please check the journal for content warnings! i caught covid in the middle of sept so sorry for the abrupt hiatus; i'm working my way through backtags soon. no worries if anything's too old! cheers ]

Hello! Tsuruno Yui here, along with Robby!

[ It’s exactly as what’s written on the tin–Tsuruno is smiling at the camera and Robby’s also here with a smile, giving a nod to the camera. ]

We’re checking out the university since that newsletter seemed pretty obviously mysterious, but we also wanted to put the invitation out to anyone who might be interested that if they want to check it out, you can come show up now while there’s safety in numbers! You know, in case of… uh… cursed pencils or whiteboard monsters or… anything else.

[ Dutifully: ] We’re being responsible, Mister LaRusso.

Real responsible, [ Chimes in the boy next to Tsuruno, amused. ] We'll let everyone know what we find, unless someone else wants to do that. But, yeah; heading to the social science department in a city that likes messing with our heads? Feels on the nose.

[ But maybe that's just Robby. ]

( Post-Investigation )

Oh, hello there.

[Standing in the video is what appears to be a man, even if his proportions are distinctly too tall, arms and legs far too long. The mask he's wearing doesn't help to offset the appearance, and the mouth does not move.

Despite the network username distinctly being Daan's, the voice sounds nothing like him.]

Ladies, gentleman, and all there in between, it's a real pleasure to take advantage of this nifty invention to speak to you all at long last. It's been a real kicker waiting this long, but I'm nothing if not patient! So here we are, and introductions are in order, aren't they? Or maybe we've already met? Well, a refresher couldn't hurt.

I'm called a lot of things, but Pocketcat has been the most consistent. Funny little moniker! I absolutely adore it. And so suitable, too, for my pockets are very deep indeed.

Usually I'm something of a merchant, but I'll admit, my usual goods are just not material right now. My apologies on that front, but perhaps we could all barter for something else instead. I do so love a conversation almost as much as I love to trade, and frankly what is a chat but a trade of words anyway?

Ah, but here I am, rambling on! I should get to the point. Do forgive me.

You may ask me questions, of course, but I'll want something in return. That's just how the barter system goes, baby. For now... let's say I'll want your best story or secret. I'll just have to give a story in return. If such things interest you, of course.

Ta, my loves. I'll be thinking of you all.

[ Though the video feed may be started with Daniel’s username, it seems like the man isn’t the only person visible when the message starts. Robby is right there next to him, the man with a friendly smile on his face and the boy smiling, though not as brightly. ]

Hello, everyone! As I’m sure many of you have experienced yourself, suddenly arriving in this place on the train can be more than a little disorienting. And though many people here are incredibly kind and willing to help, Robby and I thought that it would also be nice to have a place where new people can be directed to in order to get some information, a warm welcome, and some equally warm food. So we’re planning on clearing out a space somewhere near the main train station to turn it into a welcome diner of sorts.

We know people are arranging clubs and have regular meet-ups, [ speaks up Robby this time, ] so we thought they'd be a good place to advertise them. Let them know who's running clinics, who to ask about the kiosk or the city. Share what's happened here, too.

[ There's the faintest shift in Robby's tone at the mention of that, but he quickly adds: ] Oh, yeah, and we know there's been talk about how supplies are doing. The food's gonna be packaged and good to take out if people want it–if you wanna help with recipes, or help out with the idea in general, let us know.

[ Daniel is definitely smiling like a proud dad sensei the entire time he’s listening to the boy speak. Please don’t mind a man being very embarrassing, even ruffling his hair once Robby is done speaking. The highest form of humiliation a teenager can suffer. ]

Really, Robby deserves all the credit. He really does always have the best ideas. Everyone, make sure to befriend him, alright?

[ There's a very teenage huff from behind Robby, and the video feed is moving as: ] Okay, I think we're done.

[ Yes, that's Robby reaching for the phone to end the post. Freedom!!!! ]

On a professional level:
unless it's an emergency, I'm not currently handling patients at this time
so if you have a general check up or you're worried about a rash or something seek out one of the other doctors
great we've got that squared away

Non-professional question:
what's waiting for you back in your home?
Family, friends, saving the world, a hot date?
just a bit of curiosity on my side
Cheers

When people disappear from here, has there been any indication of how? Or where they go?

[ The camera fumbles and pans across the foyer of one of the supermarkets before focusing on Johanna Constantine's face. She's headed into the store, it appears, looking over the shelves for something specific. ]

Have you noticed there's no religion here? [ Her tone's conversational, like she's just FaceTiming a friend as she shops. ] No churches or temples or shrines. What do you suppose that means? --Ah, there we are.

[ The camera swings to point at the ceiling as she reaches to grab something. It looks like she's in the spice aisle. ]

Anyway, before you all start arguing about whether God's abandoned us, real point is: anyone here have it in them to consecrate some water and oil? Give us a ring, we can barter or something.

---

[ ooc: Threadhopping is fine by me if characters do in fact start arguing religion. Just know Constantine is watching anything that's not marked private! ]

( cw; cannabis )

[ There is no softness to the voice that murmurs onto the network in the midst of the night when people should be sleeping. Those sweet souls are not her concern if they don't wish to hear. She offers no comfort, but a reminder of what's been lost—what can still be taken.

In doing so, the woman's raspy words creep out from beneath the shadows with a voice that drags—no, it crawls—over ceaselessly hot coals. In its shudder to whisper out a poem borrowed from home, there is a smolder always bordering on a choked gasp. But no hurry, no hurry. Where do you have to be? ]

Old Yew which graspeth at the stones...that name the under-lying dead; Thy fibres net the dreamless head, thy roots are wrapt about the bones.

[ To that, a pause that looms with omen. ]

The seasons bring the flower again, and bring the firstling to the flock; And in the dusk of thee, the clock beats out the little lives of men.

[ Now, a strange yearning nearly begins to dissipate the smoke that seems to scorch her throat.

Hush, take a moment. Take a breath; hold it. Feel the shiver of a fingernail at the nape of your neck, feel it trace the curve of your ear to borrow your attention. Only just. No, don't turn. Don't touch. Just listen; the whisper can still singe. ]

O not for thee the glow, the bloom...who changest not in any gale, nor branding summer suns avail, to touch thy thousand years of gloom.

And gazing on thee, sullen tree, sick for thy stubborn hardihood; I seem to fail from out my blood...and grow incorporate into thee.

[ For a time, it seems that may be all. Then, in the same hush she speaks with a more particular address: ]

I hear that we have been denied the ephemeral — to exist endlessly within a perverse mirror of God’s image. Here, nature should protest. Instead it menaces with its silence.

[ There is a silence of her own while Vanessa takes a drag to sigh out a thin stream of smoke into the evening air. Her voice now drops so low it grates and pinches too close, like gravel against tender feet. Tickling whispers are gone; they flee the weighted melancholy that persists. ]

We carry on within a dollhouse between worlds. Do not be tempted by its pretty trinkets, lest you truly be cursed to wander the demimonde forevermore.

[ Denial still rules paramount over the rumor of immortality, but the lack of bodies is an...unsettling implication. ]

...The graves lie empty.

No festivals.
No fireworks.
No tests of courage.

What a terrible way to spend the summer in a new place. I might die from boredom!

(And yet, it sounds like he's having fun. Don't worry. He'll be fine.)

Why don't we share some tales of the strange and unknown? If we tell enough stories, something interesting might appear~

Let's see... The set up isn't quite right but a hundred stories will probably do.