a_gentle_boy | Entries tagged with porky

[voice]
[Lucas's voice is quiet, subdued. Indistinct. He isn't speaking to anyone in particular more than he is speaking to himself.]

It looks like she got what she wanted. ...He never would have let her go. Not like this. I wonder... who helped her. ...I wonder if she could have believed that we might have helped her. But, I guess... she suffered for long enough, didn't she...

[His voice firms up.]

We have to bury her. Miss Ciel, can you do what you did with Mr. Boris? Or since I don't think anyone would punish us for it this time... Burying is probably just fine, too. We can't just keep her there.

For everyone who doesn't know... Her name was Samantha Achewood. Not Jane. She was 24 years old and she was born in Fairfield, C-T. Her sisters were Susan and Lisa. Her favorite color was blue; she was a musician and she loved to play the violin. She attended Julliard. That was who she really was. And that's as much of a eulogy as I can give. She was herself for the last few hours... I should have found out more about her.

[still voice, as filtered as he can make it]
What she did say... At least, I think she confirmed it. She was surprised that I was able to guess.

Lucy is Zemekis. Everything in this world, he created. It's all fake. Just like we've thought. It was set up to give the survivors of the war somewhere to take refuge. That note about the simulation... It must be true.

((Responses will probably come a day late, but I will happily backtag when I get access to a computer again. Sorry, guys.))

[action]
[The days of January have passed relatively uneventfully for Lucas. He's had a lot to think about, and a lot to consider. For now, though, each time passes much like the rest, and he will take happiness in whatever peace he can get. His routine is fairly straightforward.

1:

( Lucas attacks your front door with newspapers. )
2:

( Lucas plays piano. )
3:

( Lucas draws you )

[voice]
[A phone call is broadcast to everyone later that night.]

Hello? A-Ah. This is Lucas.

I've been thinking a lot lately, and there's something that's been on my mind. I guess I want to ask . . . How long has this town been here? How long have people come in and out? Does anyone really know? But what's more important is . . . does anyone really remember everyone who's been here?

When people get droned, we think they've gone home, right? It's the hope we have, and a lot of the times it's true, but can we really be sure that it's everyone? Sergei -- the Russian man. He, um. Didn't he say that they were in a lot of pain? That some people who were droned . . . that they were still inside. If that's so, then . . . then we can't just forget about them, right? Even if one person is still here as a drone, we can't forget about them. And either way, it's terrible to forget the people you've become friends with at all. To forget about the people who've come to Mayfield and who've gone.

............. I know I've already started to.

Does anyone think we should maybe start keeping track? Just . . . something so that the people who come here won't ever be forgotten. Maybe even signatures. So if you do start to forget, then you can look back and see everyone's name and remember. Small things like . . . Miss Margot, and how she was always caring for her sister. Fuuko and how much she loved starfish. Mr. Zero, and how fun his gym classes were.

It might be a bad idea. Or too much work. But . . . Well. I guess if you don't want to talk about that, maybe we can just share stories of people who've been here and how important they were to us. I'd love to hear that kind of thing.

[Please specify 1, 2, 3, or voice. Although the actions are really just default Lucas interactions if your character has no interest in this topic.]

[Here's another stranger around town, Mayfield. Ten years later, the blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy is a twenty-four year old man of stature nearly rivaling the Netherlands. Those who are familiar with Lucas will easily recognize his shy smile and bright eyes.

1. Immediately after his appearance in Mayfield, the man is simply meandering, lost in thought with hands stuck into the pockets of his slacks. He'll be a bit shy to strike up conversation with the people he comes across, although he'll readily do so if he meets anyone he remembers

2. An odd sight you might come across in the park is a fully-grown man attempting yo-yo tricks. The vast majority of his attempts are abysmal; he's rusty and hasn't had the opportunity to try this in years, so maybe he'll hit you by accident as you walk by. After a while, though, he might pull off an amazing trick every now and then, instead. Regardless of the outcome, he'll be smiling and shaking his head to himself.

3. For someone like Lucas, the clothing he's got on is really way too fashionable. Why does he look so spiffy? The answer might come to those who enter the school's music wing. Seated at the piano is a grown man, and he plays it beautifully. This is his occupation on the side, after all, and he may have been interrupted in the middle of a performance.]

((This is the only icon of adult!Lucas I have, so pretend the rest of the icons match. He's wearing the same outfit as in the icon. He is not anywhere near as good at yo-yo-ing as the guy in the video; that guy is just amazing and I felt like linking it.))

CITIZENS OF MAYFIELD!

Fear not for your safety! Though trouble may brew in these uncertain times, know always that the shining shield of JUSTICE! TRUTH! And the TAZMILIAN WAY! stands by your side! Rest assured that I, the Psychic PSIclone, will not allow these villains to wreak havoc with impunity!

Empress of Ebil! Set aside your dark ways and return to the path of the adorable!

Baron von Barbarity! Your plan shall never come to fruition! Repent lest condemnation fall upon your head!

Tom Ato! Cease your poaching and release the cuddly animals you've so mercilessly enslaved to fight for your nefarious means!

Tea-Timing Temptor! . . . You're incorrigible, but at least pick a villainess sidekick your own age!

[Lucas can be found flying -- literally, flying -- around town, rescuing cats from trees, helping old ladies cross the street, and taking candy away from small children because it will rot their teeth. He is trailing a ridiculously long blanket as a cape with a black strip of cloth wrapped around his eyes.

Supervillains may come up with their own, better names. >_> Also I have so much work to do I hate you Mayfield.]

[filtered and whatever]
[The voice that speaks into the phone is strangely calm. After having suffered a severe shock and half-believing he had been transported back to Westport, Lucas wisely decided to remain at home.]

Please listen, everyone. There are some things you should know about these people.

We called them the hazmat men when they first showed up in Westport. They started off pretty slow and they weren't much of a threat, but as the days passed, they became much faster, stronger, and smarter. I don't know how they'll behave now, but to be on the safe side, you should assume that they're at full power.

If you have to fight them, you should know that there's nothing underneath the suits. Blunt force won't do anything and they won't react to getting hit. What you need to do to break through -- stabbing or piercing or shooting works. When the suit is opened, they release a lot of poison gas that can kill you if you're too close. If you touch them or if you inhale any of it, the chemicals will burn you badly. Some people died from the gas alone.

They attack with axes and they carry gas sprays with them. Don't let them touch you. The best thing to do if they're chasing you is to run. They're not too fast.

[filtered to Vince]
Mist -- . . . Vince? If you're free sometime soon . . . Sometime really soon, preferably. And, um. If you don't mind having to pull off a small miracle. And . . . If you promise not to yell at me or anything when you see me.

I really need a haircut.

[filtered to Luke, Wy, Shiraasan, Lyn, Ness, and Duster]
Are you all OK? Did you make it through the night?

[open call]
Did anyone find out anything interesting at the party? I think I might've gotten something . . . I don't know if it's important. It seems as if Billy is nice as long as you play along -- He likes fire a lot, and he likes it when you don't mind about him setting them. If you say anything about it, though, he gets upset really quickly.

It might be nothing. I don't know. If anyone runs into him, though . . . try and humor him. . . . Maybe things would have gone differently if I agreed.

[For anyone who runs into him, Lucas now dons a stylish hat pulled down low over his face, and a strip of cloth cut as a mask wrapped around the top of his head with a single eyehole for his right eye. If anyone asks, he is playing cops and robbers. He bumps into things a lot.]

. . . . . . . . .

I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't mean any of it, of course, b-but. It still happened . . . And I still did what I did. I don't know if I can really apologize enough. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry . . .

[There is sniffling for a few moments before Lucas seems to calm down.]

I don't know if I can make up for it . . . But I heard people are still hurt after everything that happened. I can try to heal you if you want . . . I know people will ask, but it's kinda . . . it's magic. And I can fix blindness, too . . .

I'm really, really sorry.

[After this call, Lucas can be found sitting on his front porch looking extremely dejected. He is aimlessly throwing a yo-yo back and forth, and although he's not doing anything particularly impressive, he seems to have some skill.]

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hi, everyone.

As foreman of the section of the factory responsible for producing canned beets, I'm pleased to announce that we've pretty much got things covered for the rest of the week. I think we're about 2000 cans of beets over where we need to be. In light of your hard work over the last few months as members of the Glorious Amazing Incredibly Happy People of Um, Prola . . Prolatarines That Hate America, I think it's fair that everyone who works in the beet-produce section should get the next few days off to think about how much you love communism and how happy we all are and how you want to stay out of trouble for sure definitely.

If anyone needs me, I'm going to be, um . . . somewhere far away, I think. And if anyone asks why you're not at the factory, remember that you have permission from your foreman to stay indoors and not cause trouble until this all blows over. I mean, until the end of the week.

And if I make any more telephone announcements after this that sound stupid, you should ignore it.