rightly: (sixty four.)
[personal profile] rightly
[ It's taken him some time to finally make up his mind and make this post. In fact, he lets it sit, all written up and ready to go, for a good while before deciding to go ahead with it. It's a silly thing, really; after Loki's taught him how to make an anonymous post, he knows no one will have any way of knowing it's him, so while he's admitting to something to the population of the Quarantine at large, no one will associate it with him, not unless he identifies himself.

He also knows he won't know the identity of anyone replying to the post, which at the moment is sort of the point. Anonymity is pretty useful in this situation. Eventually, depending on the answers he gets, he may just come to find the identity of some of these people, but for now, it offers some detachment, some distance. ]


I've been here for some weeks now, and I've come to realize that a few of us have been brought here because there was nothing else left for us. In other words, we are dead. Or we were, before we were brought back to life here. I know for a fact that I haven't been the only one to wake up at the hospital, surrounded by doctors and machinery, and it's admittedly something I'm still struggling with.

I'm not sure what to make of it. It fits what I've been told about how the portal is supposed to work. I felt out of place in the sense that I felt as if I'd reached the end of the line, that I'd have nothing else ahead of me. I'm yet to decide if this place is a new home for me, or if I'm living on borrowed time, but I won't lie: I'm glad to be alive and breathing.

It's difficult, though, not having someone to talk to about it. Granted, I'm not even sure I'd want to, but I'd like to have that option. Perhaps I'm not the only one who feels that way. Maybe a number of us are struggling in our minds with our situation, and we don't know if we can reach out, or to whom. So I've been wondering if, of those people in a similar situation to my own, anyone would be interested in some kind of get-together. A meeting to talk about our experiences— or even if you don't want to talk and would rather just listen to other people's stories, that's fine too.

I'm reluctant to share a lot about my own, so I admit I'm not all that sure about this. I guess I'm hoping for braver people than I to give me the push I likely need.


[ There, it's out of his system. It may amount to nothing but at least he's put it out there. ]
spellslots: (I get my long sparkling mermaid hair)
[personal profile] spellslots
What's up, chucklefucks, it's me, Taako, everybody's favorite wizard here to beg, desperately, for you to entertain me for next eight fucking hours while I mess with this spell.

["This spell" being his transmutation stone that he needs to remake, but it takes eight hours to prepare and honestly, he's going to go crazy.]

I'll even help you out here but giving you a starting point or several, cause I'm just amazing like that.

First off, give ch'boy some movies to watch or music to listen to. Don't bother recommending Beyoncé I'm all over that already. I can't imagine any of you being interesting enough to keep me amused for eight hours so like, this is my back up plan.

The main plan is let's play a fucking game, I was gonna go with truth or dare but it's hard to police that shit on the network so we're doing two truths and a lie instead.

Ready?

1. I've been a professor
2. I turned a dude into a cat for cheating on me and never turned him back
3. One time I fucked up a spell and everything I drank tasted like key lime gogurt for six months


[[ooc: feel free to threadjack on this one if it gets interesting]]
littlemisskate: (Here for You)
[personal profile] littlemisskate
I've been thinking a lot about how this place could be seen as a second chance. I wanted to ask... what would you do with that second chance? I know a lot of people want to find their way home but if you didn't, what then?

[She knows that it's an intrusive question and that maybe no one will respond but she's curious.]
buildsomething: (tinkering)
[personal profile] buildsomething
[Tony's in his workroom, look surprised. His expression is deadpan, but there's something almost pleased underneath it. An almost imperceptible loosening of the tension that's always there in the set of his shoulders.]

So I know we're all well aware that this place is weird as hell, but does stuff just like. Turn up sometimes? Your stuff, I mean. From home.

[As he's talking, a metal arm pops into view behind him. The claw at the front of the arm clicks together once, then starts slowly creeping forward like it's trying to peer at the camera over Tony's shoulder. It's about the least subtle thing imaginable, considering the robot's sheer size, but Tony seems to be quite comfortably ignoring it.

At least until the claw nearly knocks right into the camera and Tony has to move it out of the way like he's holding it out of the range of a toddler. The robot arm is still taking up most of the image now, though. When Tony's voice comes again, it's more than a little resigned.]


'Cause this definitely mine. Unfortunately.
godslay: (046)
[personal profile] godslay
[ When the camera switches on, Gamora is in her apartment, Godslayer across her lap (diligently cleaned and freshly oiled), and she’s holding her communicator with her usual unreadable expression in place. ]

I want to expand my training opportunities. Those looking to spar or test their abilities – I want a challenge.

[ And with a slight lift of her brow— ]

Or let me know if you simply want others to practice with. Tell me how you prefer to fight, and we can work something out.

[ What a friendly and welcoming message.

… Except definitely the opposite of that.

Gamora is working on that “reaching out” thing, on trying to get a better idea of who and what surrounds her in the city, and she might as well use it as a chance to stretch her legs and potentially come up against a worthy opponent or two. ]
radicalspeed: (pic#11619157)
[personal profile] radicalspeed
Ah, to be young and alive! Breathe in the air, enjoy the scenery, get to know the people...

Let me tell you a little philosophy...

[The young man in the video — he's such a character in hair alone (what on earth is going on with it) — sits in his rented hospital wheelchair in his simple apartment space on floor 14 (needs a little work, he thinks, not nearly enough reading material or flashy bits). In one hand, he's got some silly romance novel that's clearly forgotten, and he looks a bit weary, a bit hollowed out from battles not yet mentioned, but he's clearly so very jazzed about the opportunity to be here in Riverview. After all, he'd thought he'd be a dead man, and though he's hardly out of the woods entirely, he has more time to keep going! More time to really go the extra mile -- literally! Ahahahaha!

Oh, yes, the philosophy. Ehem.

At this point, his mouth is moving a mile a minute.]




That's the fun of travel, and there's no better travel than hopping worlds; think about it...! Of all the universes and all the galaxies, you were extended a hand to this place — a one in a trillion chance, perhaps more, to be among the stars! Or perhaps to shoot across time and space like one...! More time to chase after longevity, to meet records, to dash down the sin of sloth. We all have the right to free will! Free will to fall in love, to learn and grow and develop new and interesting hobbies and ideas and concepts of what it is to be our own individual self; individuality is key! [He's balancing on one wheelchair wheel, spinning in a circle. Stop him. STOP HIM.] But what's the point of all that if you're too slow to get around to it, huh?! Don't let yourself hold you back!! If you want something, reach for it, so you know what that means—?!

[He stops. Drops back onto all his wheels, so tickled.]

Anyone interested in wheelchair racing?

[Sometimes (most times) he just can't help himself.]