a_gentle_boy | Entries tagged with shiraasan

[voice, private to Rin Kagamine, Shiraasan, Tavros, and Nanashi]
I . . . I'm not sure what came over me. I guess it must have been the town playing tricks again, but I was feeling really strange last week. I'm really sorry. Especially to you, Tavros. We only just met and, um. You're not even a girl I don't think. I-I promise I don't actually like any of you, so please don't worry about that kind of thing.

I mean! Wait! I do like you, all of you, a lot! Just Not. Um. You know. Ah. Not like...... N-Not ............... I'm just going to apologize and hang up now.

[action]
1. ( Lucas goes dog-walking. )

2. ( Lucas goes bird-walking. )

3. ( I'm just going to be lazy and say it. )

4. ( Lucas begins to organize a scrapbook. )

[voice]
I, um. I don't feel so well. . . . How high should a temperature be before you miss school, do you know?. ....... And does anyone know where they sell construction paper?

[action]
[Despite what he announced, Lucas will be wandering around town, hovering around the candy store, the flower store, and the stationery shop. Children of any gender are encouraged to bother him.]

((Additionally, because it is hard to find the children entries amongst all of the private adult ones, if you want me to respond to your entry, link me here and I'll respond.))

[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.]

[Ring, ring! It is 6:00 in the morning and there is someone buzzing at your door.

The day after Thanksgiving, Lucas was awakened by the sound of the telephone. Upon picking it up, he was greeted by a friendly disembodied voice thanking him for his application as a paper-boy. He'd be starting tomorrow!

. . .

The rest of the day was spent in anxiety about what he was going to do. And seeing as how he was Lucas, he came to the inevitable conclusion that he'd better make the best job of it he could. This is the reason why your doorbell is being rung at an ungodly hour -- If it's possible for a buzzer to sound polite, it does. Lucas will wait with a cheerful smile on your front porch until someone shows up to answer the door, after which he'll promptly launch into a speech that sounds as if it has been nervously rehearsed for hours. In the event that no one does, he will leave after two rings. Morning people may notice that there's no bike nearby, but there is a table meandering about your front lawn. The speech runs as follows, though you can cut him off at any time.]

Good morning, [mister/miss]! My name is Lucas. We're not acquainted, but I wanted to let you know that I'll be responsible for bringing your newspapers in the morning now. I'll do everything I can to make my delivery as quiet and punctual as possible.

Thanks very much, and I look forward to serving you!

[In the event that he knows you.]

O-Oh! Hi! Um. Ah. Oh, I have to change my speech.

( Internal Thoughts )

[He stands in front of City Hall, now, fists clenched and body trembling slightly with emotion as he stares at the corpse. He had passed by it earlier. Recognized it immediately. Recoiled in horror from the sight.

At his side is a bucket of fresh water and a small pile of rags. He will decide whether or not he dares to release the body from its noose later. For now, he simply applies his healing PSI to close the open wounds, gently wipes away the blood with his cloth, does for Sergei what he had not been able to do while the man was still alive.

Be at peace.]

[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.

[action, multi-topic for everyone]
Lucas is a wreck. By now, he has forsaken the hat and the mask, and his burn marks are very clearly visible to anyone who didn't guess before. He doesn't particularly care.

1. He stumbles across town like a zombie, smashing into things wherever he goes, barely registering the pain. He stops suddenly in random spots, staring at the floor or at a tree or at a shop window or at a drone. This is where we had ice cream. This is where I bought him the present. This is the bench where he listened to my story . . . This is where . . . This is . . .

2. In school, he keeps his head down and buried and sits in a far corner. His shoulders occasionally heave.

3. At home, he shuts himself in his room. Family members or those who visit him will find drawing after drawing after drawing of a certain person strewn all across the floor, each one with slash marks through the face. Is he already forgetting? Is he losing the smile, the laugh, the voice?

[action, forward-dated, open to Taiwan, Saki, and Mindy]
A full day after his meeting with Taiwan, Lucas enters the house uninvited. He doesn't care about not being selfish anymore. He has remembered -- There is something very precious he needs to get back, the symbol and the memory that he absolutely needs.

He finds it in the basement. True to his word, the Netherlands has framed the very first drawing that Lucas has ever made, of Miffy and Hello Kitty enjoying a picnic in a park. Propped up beside it is the best piece of art that Lucas has ever produced: a drawing of the two of them, laughing and happy, so closely resembling each other in looks that they could've passed as a father and a son.

He is about to leave with his treasures when he catches a glimpse of something else out of the corner of his eye. A shoebox. For 'Lucas'. His hands shake as he pops the lid; he stares at what's inside.

"Mr. Netherlands . . . . . . . I . . . I . . . OK. I'll keep going. I'll keep fighting . . . "

((I have been informed that Lucas has been left notes of all the conversations the Netherlands has had with Jane Smith, the Westport notes, and Richard Grey's wallet. Also, Nini, if you don't mind, I think I will forward-date that conversation they just had to after this.))

[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.]

( Lucas finally finds an instrument he can play )

Do you hear me call to you? Can you even hear my heart's cry?
Still I call out to the wind . . . Even as it flows on by, for
I believe our dreams can still come true. I'll always keep my faith and trust in you

Even if I'm a fool, I'll always feel the same about you. I believe in friends and laughter and the wonders love can do; I believe in second chances and that's why I still believe in you.

. . . . . . i . . . believe in second chances . . . . . . .

[Later that night, he returns to the park and sings his song quietly with a good sense of pitch. He is wearing his school clothes from last year. They are too small for him.
Time moves on.]

((Feel free to comment while Lucas is practicing on the piano as well. He will sound pretty awful unless he's playing this song.))

Stop it! Stop going! Stop . . . !

There's . . . There's so much blood, I -- [Lucas breaks off and seems to gasp for breath for a few moments. He is, in fact, covered with the stuff despite not having exchanged anything at all, having just finished helping NIc.] The sidewalk . . . Everything . . . Even on the trees. It's just like when . . .

[The boy suddenly seems to snap back to reality.]

Who's a doctor? Who's a nurse? Who's a healer through whatever means? Please, get uptown and help the people leaving the post office! Anyone who's already lost something -- Find a medic! You'll bleed to death if you don't get it treated! If you see anyone who's lost a leg, get them help first! Getting the blood vessels in your thigh severed is really dangerous. No one should try to wait it out!

I . . . I think . . . I-I don't know. If they're doing this . . . will it come back if we die . . . ?

((OoC: Just for clarification, Lucas is overreacting. There 's a lot of blood, but probably not as bad as he's making it out to be. This is the first time he's seen it in such large quantities -- and gushing out from someone while he's trying to heal them. He's still a kid, after all.))

EDIT:
((For any replies after this edit, Lucas will be over his initial shock and can be found near by the post office if anyone needs healing to prevent from bleeding to death. You may still reply to the initial contents of this post if you'd like.))

( Lucas's List (for the interested) )

[It is time to sum up what Lucas has been doing all summer. This is the culmination of hours of hard work and dedication. This is the pinnacle of success for the boy who has been deprived of a normal childhood. It is also the first time the player has tried a post of this sort.

Four scenarios will be presented. One is welcome to respond to as many of them as one wishes. Numbering the initial comment may be helpful.]

First Scenario:( Lucas bakes. Read: Lucas sets things on fire. )

Second Scenario:( Lucas learns to play an instrument. Read: Lucas breaks eardrums. )

Third Scenario:( Lucas draws. Read: . . . Actually, that's about right. )

Fourth Scenario:( Lucas practices martial arts and yo-yo tricks. Read: Lucas attacks your face. )

[for household]
What is that horrible racket at 5:30 in the morning?
If you stumble downstairs to check out the noise, you can find Lucas standing on top of a chair yanking at the smoke detector in an increasing state of panic as time passes and the noise continues. On the stove is a pan of frying bacon that wasn't actually burned when the smoke detector began to go off, but certainly is now.]

[for Free]
In lieu of breakfast, there is, instead, a large steak meal sitting on the table around lunchtime with a small bouquet of flowers in a vase.

[for the Netherlands]
The doorbell rings at approximately 3:00 in the afternoon. No one will be there when the door is answered, but there is a wrapped present, a card, and a bouquet of sunflowers. The present is a small stack of artwork featuring Miffy in generally cute poses, including sitting in a field of flowers, having a picnic with assorted other animals, and tucked into bed sleeping peacefully. They seem to improve, skill-wise, as they progress chronologically. The card reads as follows.

( [Cut for mushiness] )

[and finally, for everyone]
Um. It looks like the same thing that happened on Mother's Day is happening again, but backwards, right?

. . . Does anyone know if, maybe there's a Children's Day? That might be fun. Actually, Mr. America said his birthday is coming up soon, right, which means that it's a pretty big holiday for this world, too. Are there any other big ones we should all know about? And are there any really cool holidays from other worlds that people want to share? Maybe we could celebrate them together even if the town doesn't.

[He awoke in a bed. That was strange. He had gone to sleep on a chair, having successfully made it around the neighborhood to visit anyone who was ailing. The Netherlands hadn't yet returned when he'd snuck back into the house, pretending as if he had never left in the first place. What was even stranger was that he was apparently in his pajamas and . . . looking out the window . . . There was no haze. There was no rubble. There were no hazmat men. There were no corpses.

. . .

He slowly walks downstairs as if in a trance and sees the familiar sight of his kitchen. Tears immediately coming to his eyes, the boy rushes to the telephone.]

Hello?! Is this Mayfield? Am I . . . Am I back?! Did we win? Did . . . Did we all make it? Is everyone. Is everyone OK? Mr. Netherlands? Mr. Netherlands, did we beat them?

Is this real . . . ? If this is really Mayfield, someone please answer me. There were so many things we found in Westport. And last night -- Last night, that voice. Richard Grey's last message. You all heard it too, right?

EDIT:
Kay's right.
We all found clues over there that everyone should see. I have a copy of the note that Kay and I found in the library and the one that Miss Alice and I found in the car. If anyone wants to come see them, that's fine. We should all get together sometime soon.

[private, unhackable because it's an action]
Huh? . . . Your wallet? Um. No, I don't think so. Don't you usually keep it in your pocket? . . . Take it? Why would I -- I don't even really like using money at all . . . Ah . . . B-But I haven't used any -- Um. I really haven't . . . No, I didn't spend any money at the dance, 'Dad'. I wasn't there for long at all . . . What?! I-I'm not lying! I'm really not. I didn't see . . . I don't know where your wallet was! I didn't even . . .

B-But. But that's not fair! I haven't touched any of your th -- I'm not! Mogget? Mogget's not my pet. You can't 'take him away'; he doesn't even live here half the . . . What? -- No! That's stupid! I won't. I won't! And you can't make me! . . . S-Shut up! You're just a stupid drone! Shut up! Shut up!

[The door to his house slams open as Lucas storms outside . People passing by may notice.]

[public]
[A little bit later, a public phone call is made. Lucas sounds very much like he is holding back tears.]

. . . . . Excuse me, everyone. I . . . I, um. I need to borrow money . . . -hic- Um. My . . . My 'dad' lost his wallet. And h-he thinks I took it . . . He said, um. Until . . . -hic- I gave it . . . gave it back I wouldn't be, um . . . I wouldn't be allowed to . . . -hic- -sniff- go out . . . or .....

[The voice trails away indistinctly.]

((Ah, sorry, Crowe-mun for not asking you about this but are you OK with this? If you're not, I'll get rid of it. I just thought it'd be a good way to sum up some of the things Lucas has been doing since his last post. Sorry.))