Entries tagged with *text

009. [Text/Action for Goldenrod Rocket Base]

[TEXT]

So it seems that the running theme on the network this summer is "We're all terrible people and/or have no idea how to handle ourselves in groups." Good to know, I suppose.

Since I'm particularly bored but otherwise actually am having a very good day today (thank you very much), maybe all of you can regale me with some of that optimism you seem to like so much. Or you can be needlessly pessimistic, I don't really care. I just want to hear stories.

So why don't you talk about something you've accomplished since you've been here? I don't care how important it is in the scheme of things. Just something you've gotten done.

Since I'm sure somebody is going to ask for my reasoning in asking, I'm coming up on a year of being here, though I still have some time yet. I suppose this sort of thing is on my mind.

[ACTION]

( Egregious animal cruelty again, because of course. )

008. [Text / Action for Goldenrod Rocket Base]

[TEXT]

Is there a way to make yourself stop thinking about someone that obviously isn't worth your time?

I feel like I've done everything I can to deal with the situation, so it's not like business is unfinished. And before you suggest forgiveness or something stupid like that, it isn't an option after what this person did, so don't bother. I just can't let this go for whatever reason and it's getting inconvenient and stupid and I'd rather not deal with it anymore, but deciding that you're not going to think about something is a waste of time for obvious reasons.

I don't care if I never stop hating them. I just want to stop thinking about it, and if I could cut out whatever part of my brain is responsible for that, I would.

[ACTION]

( In which there is really blatant animal cruelty in this Rocket base. )

007. [Anonymous Text / Action for Goldenrod City]

[Anonymous Text]

[The text that hits the device tonight is the sort that obviously comes from some sort of hacked ID - it's poorly done, but at the same time well-done enough that you're just going to get a lot of static and glitching if you're going to try to work out who it is. More of an obviously anon setting than a device that's pretending to belong to someone else, basically.]

Tell me about recurring dreams you've had.

Not necessarily nightmares, though I suppose those are fine. Just those dreams you've had over and over again, the ones your mind keeps coming back to.

If you're expecting psychoanalysis you won't get it, since I'm not being paid nearly well enough to do that for the lot of you and I've no interest in it besides. I'm just interested in talking and hoping you'll say something interesting.

[...okay then.]

[Action - Goldenrod City]

[Well, abrasive texts or not, Alfred can actually be found outside today; it's warm today (even if his internal clock is still yelling at him that it shouldn't be, and he is never going to get used to the damn weather in this hemisphere) and he's taking the opportunity to spend time in the park, watching his Pokémon...play? Are they playing? It looks like they might be; it's either that or it's a level one slapfight that's more ineffectual than anything, between a Sewaddle and what looks to be a male Combee.

After a bit of watching it'll become clear that this is, in fact, a slapfight, and one that the poor Sewaddle is not going to be winning; it keeps getting a shot of Gust in the face and unfortunately Tackle isn't landing too well right now, due to the abovementioned...well, Gusting to the face, and after a few rounds of this the Sewaddle is basically ending up spending more time kind of lying on the ground in a universally understood gesture of "I have run out of fucks to give" rather than actually fighting.

Alfred, unfortunately, seems to be taking no pity whatsoever on the poor damn thing - he's sitting on one of the benches nearby, leaning idly over his legs where they're crossed at the knee, chin propped in his hand while he watches; he's also got at least one bug he's not particularly interested in deathmatching, if the ever-present Joltik on his shoulder is any indication. As it is, said Joltik apparently gives no fucks about what's going on and Alfred himself just sort of rolls his eyes when the Sewaddle flops over, reaching out for the bag he's got with him and spraying it in the face with a Potion.]

Oh, no, you don't. Get back in there.

[Alfred, that thing is going to hate you before it even reaches level 5, what are you doing.]

Entry tags:

005. [Text]

[You know, this is really the sort of thing that most would want to leave anonymous...but since Alfred has surveyed the available fucks he has to give and found them numbering entirely too many, he seems to have thrown them out in the window in favor of just being an abrasive idiot because he is the pride of the Ashford family like that.]

Well, since you all like text, I thought I would join you all because I was starting to feel a little left out. And we certainly can't have that, now, can we?

So we've had people trying to get the resident Hero Squad moving, people trying to poke the resident Villain Squad into doing...something and somesuch, I really have no idea what's going on there...

Do any of you people actually do things, or do you just kind of poke at each other? Some explosions here, shameless grandstanding there, assaulting a theatre and tying up women over there (though that last one isn't so much a crime as it is too much information about you people, I think)...

Are you going to actually get some sort of full-scale battling going on, or are you content to just tap at each other a bit? Really, at this rate I propose the formation of the Disinterested But Somewhat Amused Third Party in the name of messing with you both.

[...ALFRED...]

002. [Anonymous Text - Nightmare Plot, forward-dated by a few hours]

[There's an anonymous text hitting the network sometime after the clock rolls over to the fourteenth of the month; it's one of those hours that's either extremely early or extremely late, depending on one's point of view. The ID is an unknown one, of the sort that's obviously hacked-together but poorly-done; at the same time, its owner isn't exactly caring about quality right now.]

If anyone is still alive, send me something. A message, a story, some stupid file you have lying around, I don't care. Some sort of contact. Who I am doesn't matter. I don't care if we've never spoken before.

Just send me something. Anything.

Please.