[Ed has been completely enamored with the device since he got it, little fingers clutching to it as people talked to him which was kind of soothing, and curious. Eventually they didn't though, and he couldn't fight sleep forever. He was recovering after all.]

[Winry had scooped him up at some point and brought him to a bedroom, one that had books in every which way, and his chair was nestled not far from the bed, probably in case he wanted to get out of bed. He is curled up, blankets tucked around him.]

[The image is perfect except for the slight scowl. That scowl deepens to a frown and his brow seems to be glistening with sweat before long. He's beginning to breathe hard enough that it would almost be impossible that he was asleep. He murmured and mumbles.]

No...I didn't mean...I'm sorry...

[He thrashes in his sleep, shaking his head back and forth and kicking at the blanket tucked around him.]

No! [His voice has a hazy quality from sleep but it's loud.] AL! GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER! HE IS THE ONLY ONE I HAVE! TAKE IT! TAKE IT ALL!

[A gasp, a whimper and he thrashes again.] No...this is not what I wanted...no...

Mom I...

[A strangled sob.]

I'm sorry.

[Trembling, a moment later, with a sharp intake of breath, watery golden eyes open.]

( cut for death 8( )

[ooc; ;o; no replies. >B)]

Hey Jake! I think I'm onto him finally. Tracked him down under--

( cut for language )
[[ slayer_swan responses again ]]

[ Hey there, DDD! You might recognise this little scamp, he's been around before - it's one early-double-digits Neil Dylandy, nowhere near Lockon Stratos yet, with the look of someone who's torn between adrenaline, excitement, and worry.

That carries through to his voice, N.Irish accent somewhat jittery and high on adrenaline. ]

You guys won't believe the day we've had!

( OOC cut for a babbling tale of twins and trees. )
[ …and with a little bit of a furtive glance around - nope, no parents or little sister. Watch the preteen attempt casual, OK? ]

It's not as though I'm worried or anythin'. I'm only asking 'cause he looked kinda pale when we were leavin', that's all--

Um.

So. Has anyone ever had stitches here? An' had to stay in hospital overnight? I'm just curious.

[The video starts on the Spanish frontier, both German and Spanish troops are visible in opposite sides. The Germans are visibly more tired and frustrated. In front of his troops, Ludwig is staring at Antonio in disbelief. Both are wearing uniforms and while Ludwig looks irritated, Antonio’s face shows no emotion.]

You can’t be serious. Do you know how far we…?

As you can imagine, my boss is not so thrilled about the idea of having panzer grenadiers camping on his territory. We are strong enough to deal with Gibraltar. [Spain smiles, but there’s no trace of humor in that gesture, no happiness or amusement.] Your own boss said that he ‘would rather have some teeth extracted than to have to deal further with Franco’. Then why are we discussing this further? You have the Blue Division helping, isn’t that enough?

[Germany eyes narrow, and he’s silent for some long seconds.] Your boss has more blood on his hands than Mussolini.

And yours… [Spain replies] …has more than we two together. Now go, Ludwig. We have lost enough time here.

[Ludwig finally gives in and the German troops start their withdrawal. Spain watches them go, eyes impassive. Later, he looks up at the sky, murmuring in a tired voice.]

Una grande y libre….

[Wiki! Context: Spain was officially neutral during WW II. This status, although not recognized by international law, was intended to express the regime's sympathy and material support for the Axis Powers, to which Spain offered considerable material, economic, and military assistance. Despite this ideological sympathy, Spain did not enter the war as a belligerent and, in fact, frustrated German designs on Gibraltar and stationed field armies at the Pyrenees to dissuade Germany from occupying the Iberian Peninsula.

And~ Una grande y libre.]

This is all you guys do with your time, isn't it? You all need new hobbies.

Like... say I was trying to find someone. I know they're out there, they do so exist! I just don't know where to start.

[ The first two days saw Dexter as 8 years old, the last day will see him at ... 60. ]

I haven't seen this place in a while. I probably had a few less wrinkles last time you saw me.

It's Dexter, and it's been .. well, a few years.

Rita and I are coming up on our anniversary soon, the big 2-O. I can't believe it's been that long since I was first introduced to DramaDramaDuck.


..

Candy, are you out there?

You might want to stay inside tonight. I certainly would. There’s a storm coming, you see.

A very big, messy, horrible storm. The storm of the century. Maybe even the millennium.

Dreadfully sorry, but I’ve got to go. Please, be careful, if nothing else.

(OOC: Aziraphale's in Exodus. The Final Plague's coming.)

[Video opens to show a young boy, maybe five years old, huddled against a dingy wall. He looks dirty and emaciated, like his most recent bath was days ago and his last good meal was even longer ago than that. The walls and tatami are even dirtier than he is, and there is garbage strewn on the floor all around him - rotting food, empty fast food containers, clothes, and other junk.

Though he looks almost too starved to move, there is a spark of defiance and determination still burning in his golden eyes. This boy wants to live, no matter what it takes. At the same time, hopelessness is starting to encroach. He is mumbling to himself, an endless mantra of pleas.]

Mommy? When are you coming home? I've been good, I haven't moved. Please mommy, don't leave me alone. Mommy, I'm hungry. Please?

 First day out of the bloody hospital wing and all she cares about is that I was with--

[He's stopping himself from muttering. The currently seventeen-year-old Ron currently has more pressing matters at hand than worrying if a virus is happening or not. It's not long before he says it either.]

Right. Anyone know how to get rid of a mental girlfriend? Y'know, the sort that cling on tighter when you try.

Might as well have tried everything and it still hasn't worked, but ideas they'd be bloody well useful at this point.

So guess who helped kill a goddess today? I'll give you three guesses.

How was your day, community?

[Young little Touya Akira has aged a few years, to a vibrant twenty-year old, or at least, somewhat more than his sullen self at thirteen. He is wearing a traditional outfit like his father had been before, only today it's black. He looks sombre, but pleased with himself as he bows and accepts an envelope and poses for a photograph. Many reporters are clicking pictures and when the press conference is over he steps outside of the room for a deep breath.

He's looking off camera to someone and he tilts his head, smirking a little.]

That's two, Shindou. Come and catch me.

[The moment passes and he slides the envelope into the lapel of his clothing and he steps forward, silencing Hikaru's protest, whatever it was.]

Excuse me. It's the 49th day, and I'm needed at the cemetery.

[He bows and excuses himself, Shindou Hikaru watching his back as he goes.]

[Someone's very silly. And giddy. And just all around excited and happy as she turns the camera on.]


So.


Well.


Gale asked me to marry him today.


[Laughs a little.] I don't think anyone's wondering what I said.


[[ ooc: abaratian_bred responses! ]]

I read a lot of things on this talking thing, and I don't get it--how is there an older-me here? And why doesn't she like anybody? She doesn't seem like a very happy person. Almost everyone she's ever talked to she ends up yelling at them. Maybe she needs new friends, or maybe not talk to cereal killers. That might make her feel better.

Who else looked back and found themselves as older or younger?

[The first thing to note is that instead of his usual black leather ensemble, Wesker is clothed in a police uniform, a S.T.A.R.S patch on the sleeves of it. Also note that he looks very unimpressed.]

What is this? I know for a fact I haven't accessed anything of this kind - the office computers shouldn't be able to, for that matter. I really don't have time to start worrying about viruses on here when I have an investigation to lead, so if someone knows how I can get rid of this, I'd appreciate it.

And Chris, if this is your doing, we're going to be having words later.

[The video shows Pegasus in a white, sterile hospital room, sitting on a hospital bed next to a young woman. They both look about seventeen or so; Pegasus' hair no longer hides half his face. The girl is wearing a hospital gown, her arm hooked up to numerous monitors. Most of her hair is missing, the only remains being small wisps attached to her scalp. On the tray next to her is a heaping blond wig.

The two of them are flipping through a photo album, chuckling.]

"...oh, and there's a picture of when you threw the bouquet. Look, your uncle got a shot of it just as your wig flew off..."

[She squeals, giggling and hiding her face with her hands.] "Oh, that's terrible! I can't believe they'd include that, I was so embarassed!"

"Is that why you smashed cake in my face later, after you made me promise not to do that when it was time to cut it? To make me just as embarrassed as you?"

[The girl laughs before poking him on the shoulder.] "I only made you promise not to smash cake in my face, I never said anything about what I might do to you."

"You're cruel. Is this what I have to look forward to, a long marriage of getting food smashed in my face?"

"Yes, yes it is. Unfortunately, it's only going to be hospital food for a while, so you'd better get used to being hit with canned peaches. But! Once I'm better and I have my hair back, I give you my full permission to chuck a frosted cupcake or two in my face."

"I want to get that in writing."

[The girl smacks him, giggling, before she leans in to plant a quick kiss.]



((OOC: Have a 17 year-old Pegasus during his brief marriage to Cecelia.))

[When Eames appears onscreen, you can tell he's paler than usual; there's bags under his eyes and he rubs them absentmindedly.]

Okay, look, I know the lot of you have all basically gone insane over the last few days -- not that that's anything new -- but if you could help out, it'd be appreciated.

Anyone have any good insomnia recipes? I can't explain it, but I keep having dreams of that stupid bloody video that was posted the other day, and it's got me tossing and turning. I swear, it almost seems like I'm seeing them everywhere...I just want some damned sleep.

[And as Eames talks, you might notice his nose start to bleed. He doesn't even seem to notice.]

There is no appropriate way to inform your elder clansmen that you have eloped with a commoner, is there?

What the hell do your usenames mean?


For that matter -- if you were 'pulled' here against your will, how'd you get that name ... and does it fit?

[Have an Aria. Same pink streak, same general decor in her room, but none of the enthusiasm of two nights prior. Indeed, initially she doesn't seem to have even noticed that she's being recorded; when she does she ventures the tiniest of smiles that doesn't distract from how worried and upset she looks.]

Sorry, community. Now's really not a good time.

[She looks away, resting her head on her arms as she lies on her bed. A minute or so passes with Aria remaining mostly silent and motionless; when she looks up to see that she's still being filmed she heaves a sigh and sits up, facing the camera fully now.]

Okay, fine. You want an update? Ali's missing. She wasn't there when I woke up, and then Spencer came and said she wasn't anywhere...I don't know, I'm sorta hoping this is just Ali messing with us and she'll show up soon laughing at us for freaking out, but it's been hours now and we've heard nothing, and her mom phoned earlier to ask where she was so she hasn't gone back there...

[She swallows, trying to maintain composure]

I'm scared something's happened. And if that weren't bad enough, I overheard my parents talking about schools in Iceland earlier. Obviously I can't ask them, they don't know I heard them, but why would they even be interested in what schools there are in Iceland?

[Another sigh as she glances down at her phone]

I'm sorry, community. I know this has been a mess of an entry. But it's the best I can do right now.

Hello, my name is A

This is a computer? I guess it must be.

It has a screen. It has keys like a typewriter

but it looks very strange, not like the ones in comp sci or on the television

actually, the screen is more like a television, or even like

Oh dear, I'm testing it by typing my stream of thought, but now if anyone looks over my shoulder, it looks like i'm talking to it. How silly'.



whatever this is, Comp Sci say they are not missing it. The Professor isn't missing anything either.



This machine belongs to A.

Um, hi. This isn't the Trivia Quest website, but I can't get off this website.

Can anyone...tell me what it's done to the computer? I can't get off, but my cousin is coming soon and I hear high schooler's need the computer a lot more.

I don't want him to come with a broken computer.

((Timeskipped to just before Souji arrives in Inaba.))

[There is a little blond boy with big green eyes staring into the screen from behind an arm resting across knees pulled up to his chest. He's in a dark room, the only visible thing being the glow of the screen on his huddled form.]

It's not fair.

[He sniffs, and pulls back the hand that had been distractedly poking at the keyboard to wrap his arms around his knees. His voice comes muffled, now, and broken with hiccups, as he hides his face.]

I don't have to like her. I just...

[He doesn't seem to know that this is recording, as he starts sobbing again.]




((bitty!Jin, y'all, ignore the icons. 8Db))

I am sure there are beings here who do not age.

What do you do when people begin to question why you have no physically changed in ten years?

Box!

You will tell me your statistics. Your name, your age, your gender, what world you come from. Yoruichi-sama wants a report; she'll get one. If you don't give up your information willingly, I will find it out anyways. I may already know it, for all you know, so don't underestimate me!

...If you can also prove if you're a lunatic or not, that will be helpful.

[ There's light, soft light, everywhere. Elysion is a field of dreams, dotted with millions of tiny points of light within each of the pastel flowers, of all colors and species. Across the bright sky rolled fluffy clouds, and does graze with their fawns, not at all bothered by the scent of two humans the fragrant summer breeze fluttered past a palace.

A Prince and his High Priest were conversing and making preparations. The marble halls they strode along were all bathed in the same light; there were very few walls in this brilliant palace of marble and alabaster. There were smiles on both faces--Helios was duty-bound, but he was the keeper of beautiful dreams..he couldn't help but being happy for the Prince and the Princess' bond of love. ] I can only keep the Temple Maidens at bay but for so long. They're eager to see what's been going on.

[ They neared the shrine of Elysion, the shimmering crystals rising from the ground. Water poured over the clear stones to fall into a small channel surrounding it, but the quiet babbling didn't drown out their calm voices. Especially not the Prince's more confident and noble voice. ] I trust you'll do your best, Helios, but it's not the Maidens I'm worried about.

[ An understanding chuckle rumbled between them and Helios nodded, turning to face a beautiful blond maiden when finally, she arrived. ] Princess, it's a pleasure to see you once more. [ He bowed gracefully as he was warmly greeted by a soft voice. Pleasantries were exchanged and he politely excused himself. As he strode along the halls, giggles and whispers of conversations could be heard behind him with the clicking of heels, the Prince and Princess escaping to the gardens. ]

[The camera turns on and you see Ianto sit back, in his immaculately clean room, in the window frame, a cigarette lit and clutched in one hand as he glares out the window at the rain. When he speaks, his accent is thicker, rougher than anyone who knows him normally would remember it]

It's the bloody weekend, and that twllt din, my father, he's upset at me not being able to explain where I was yesterday. The weekend! And he has the flipping gall to bloody ground me, for going out on the weekend. It's not like it even matters, anyway. It's not like there's really any difference between being grounded and any other day. It's not like I've got any privileges that he can take away, anyway. I don't--

[The door to his room opens and Ianto whirls to hide his cigarette behind his back, making a terribly angry face] Bloody hell, Rhiannon, flipping knock!

Sulking are we? [Rhiannon, though off camera, sounds a bit older than Ianto. And she also happens to be his older sister] Well, don't let me interrupt. I just wanted to tell you that dinner's on, so. Will you be coming down?

You can tell Tad to piss off, I'm not coming down again ever. He can just cer i grafu if he--!

Alright, alright! Shit, Ianto, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'll bring you up some soup later. [Her voice gets further away, although she speaks up one more time before the door shuts completely] And put out that cigarette!

[Ianto brings the cigarette out from behind his back, and looks down at it, before taking another drag.] Shit.

[The woman onscreen looks about ten years older than before, hair tied up in a messy bun. She appears to be looking down at the screen with a bemused expression...and wearing a very red outfit.

...Surely it makes sense in context, though the room she's standing in just seems to be an average wooden conference room.]

Oh it's you again.

...Thought I'd gotten rid of you.

Does anyone know a place that's away from civilization and has a lot of mirrors or a lot of water?
five days
[The camera settles on his back; at this angle, his face is a sliver of cheekbone and chin and temple, all shadows and highlights. The room he's in is small, and spartan; his green uniform is the only color in it. Barely visible past him is a mirror and one hand, which holds a paintbrush. He pauses, then draws the thin tip of the brush under his cheek.]
i see you
I heard there was a ghost who likes mirrors and I want to speak to her. Mirrors and water, pretty things, you know? Maybe I'll give her a ring. She put up a video and I want to speak to her properly. Put her at peace, you know?
what are you waiting for
[He pauses again, tilts his face and draws the brush over his eyebrow.]
coward coward coward coward coward
And you're wondering what I'm doing with my face, right? They used to say, on my world, that the best magi were the ones who painted their faces to honor the gods. I want good luck on this; I'm doing it now, while I'm talking, because...well, it's a bit tricky. I keep on painting circles instead of lines. I was hoping that talking while I did this would help me concentrate. Good luck is always good, right? Red for truth...or red for promises? I can never remember.
you are going to die
[And he turns to the community at last, his face painted with elegant red designs. He smiles thin, nervous.]
life, hope, dreams, where do they go? does it matter?
Community, talk to me while I wait for a hop, please. Calm my nerves?

[[young!Kefka's trying to lure Samara out and end the ring curse, either by getting her angry enough to go at him here or by luring her out in an area with lots of water/mirrors. SURELY THIS CAN'T GO WRONG.]]

[an older man's voice is picked up in mid-sentence:] --lright, settle down everybody.  Last run through for the night.  I promise this time!  [unanimous groans from a large group of people; obviously, the speaker has said that several times before.]  You can give me one last push.  Ready?


[the cello part sounds a bit closer than the others.  a viewer's suspicions would be confirmed when the same man says:] Still needs work, but good job with the solos, Shinji-kun.  Things for next wee--

[abrupt cut off of sound]

[This is a grumpy-looking, aged twelve James T. Kirk the community gets today, just a few days after his "first" post here. The room he's in is not his own, but a white, ultra-modern looking place that hardly looks lived-in. He moves around a bit as he's talking, but the camera on the computer follows him. At one point, he passes a window and, if you know San Francisco in the middle of the twenty-third century, you'll know he's in Starfleet housing, looking over the Bay.]

Hey, if any of you ever know me in, like, five or six years, and you hear I'm thinking about joining Starfleet, please remind me of this day and stop me.

Okay, that's it. Hope everyone's good.