elnysa | Entries tagged with angels in america: prior

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Alright, new pop quiz. When you think of home, what do you think of?

[ Open question, which he's not going to expand on unless prompted -- though really he's curious about something specific. Do people consider Olympia or Wyver their home now? Maybe the Natha station? Or do they think of home worlds they've been told no longer exist? ]

priorly

What's that poem about how the world ends? Fire, or ice.

Funny, really, we've been at the sharp end of both in recent weeks and here we all are, still muddling along, impossible to destroy. Like cockroaches, or Twinkies. Well. Most of us, anyway.

But it seems to me that ice is more a paralytic than an ending. Perhaps a precursor to slow cessation. A numbing, which - left long enough - allows one not to even notice as all the more vital components gradually freeze. Stasis, an ending without closure. They're the worst kind, I think.

But don't mind maudlin old me. I haven't been sleeping well.

At any rate. If you knew Byerly or Dorian -

Well, lucky you. They're gone now. Stasis. I thought some people might like to know and it turns out to be torture to have to say it over and over.

And it's colder here than I anticipated.

That's all.

priorly

[After a cluster of days spent surfing park benches, with sleep only a brief and unwelcome interruption, Prior has finally made it to the space station. He comes onto the screen, a black shadow in a gleaming hallway: if he looks like death on a mission to avenge itself, that is the intended effect. It may be more Norma Desmond descending a staircase, but that's not far off, either. He's still clutching a cane just to hold himself upright. His voice is raspy but loud, and just a few notes higher pitched than it should be.]

Is everyone back from the dead now? Good. Wouldn't want our new arrivals seeing the aftereffects of that little mess, would we. How good that our merciful overseers can let us go through days of torture, days of agony, let our skin slough off and our eyes burn out, let us choke on gas until we suffocate from it, then kindly bring us back so we can all do it again next time someone in this sadistic little shithole gets a fresh bee in their bonnet.

You know - on earth - I always had trouble with the idea of a non-interventionist God. But non-interventionist omnipotent aliens? Well goddamn. Fuck that. Fuck them.

Oh, they can play with the native's minds so a talking racoon looks like business as usual, but they can't stop them wanting to kidnap us?

They can see everything we do and they can't tell our fucking friends where we are?

What is the point of them, then? What's the point of any of this? They haven't rescued us from any storm, they've just left us stranded on a tiny, hostile island, wondering whether our little bit of sand is going to wash away before or after the natives get around to eating us.

Well I am tired and I am sick and I am through with this bullshit. Was anyone else told they'd look after our loved ones for us? Because I have loved ones down there now, and they were not looked after well. Maybe I should let a few of the next-to-wake know exactly how reassuring all those promises look now.

I don't know what to do, but it seems to me that we're being hung out to dry down there, and someone needs to do something. So I'm going to start by finding one of these assholes and seeing what happens.

tummyflowers

[On the feed appears a man! No, not a man, a king. And his username is real_life_actual_king, since that's kind of important. Although often an informal unit, Richard is decked out in the standard issue armor and helmet of the Royal Guard. It's polished to perfection. He clears his throat.]

Hello all, it's me. I'm Kind Richard with the disclaimer that the name is intentionally ironic. I've just returned from the beach, which was just fantastic. I had a great time, all around. Never did get to see that fighting pit I kept hearing about, but a really good time altogether. And how about that train, am I right? Talk about posh.

Anyway, I wanted to give people a bit of a heads up. I'm with the Royal Guard and by now, kind of a venerated veteran of sorts, I wanted to let people know that we are still recruiting. Mind you, I'm not doing the recruiting! This is more of an information awareness announcement, since you'll have to speak directly to the Commander. A tad inefficient on her part, I'll grant you, but delegation is not her strongest suit. But you tell them that your old pal Rick sent you and you'll be well on your way to making this city a better, safer place to live. Also, you'll get paid for it, so that's a nice little bonus as well. Once you're in, you can have a talk with me. I run the armory, so I'll get you hooked up with the same kind of trendy fashion you see on display right now.

Now, unrelated to this whole business of being a guard, I wanted to open the floor to people who may have had experiences like I have had. If you've recently loss your kingdom and seat of power and been reduced to living the life of a meaningless and inconsequential peasant, then you're talking to someone who's been there. It's not easy, believe me. I've gone through a number of musical numbers just trying to cope with it. But if you need someone to talk to, then I'm there for you. You don't have to suffer alone anymore.

I think that's about it. Now, how the hell do I stop this from recording? Is this it?

Ah, good. That was easier than I thought. I think I did pretty well with the whole psycho-therapeutic mentoring thing there at the end, eh Tad Cooper? Really inspired some hope in those poor hopeless sods. Hm? The light's still on? Oh hell.

Maybe if I just... and then... okay, I'll just-!

[And like that, the message ends. Finally.]

priorly

[This post is made at around 3am, and Prior appears to be curled in a corner of his bathroom floor, in a pink cardigan and floral PJs.]

Forgive my intrusion on what, I am told, is a highly complex network of cups and strings... has anyone else been assigned to an empty house? Quite, quite empty. Aside from myself, of course, but I'm all moved in now and find I do not, in fact, take up that much room. And it's very quiet, at this time of night. Very quiet. The emptiness becomes somehow moreso. Does that make sense? I'm not sleeping very well.

[He's not doing much very well, by the slightly shivery look of him. Although it is cold on the bathroom floor, and perhaps that's at least part of the cause.]

Though I can't deny the extra space is a boon. Very handy for storing all the nothing I have to fill it with. Would anyone like to go antiquing? If we're lucky we may even find something here that doesn't look archaic.

Speaking of looking for things. I hear there's no hospital. Do we have pharmacies? I have prescriptions from my own world which will run out soon and I don't know the best course of action to take. This city can't, surely, be all cons and no mod. Are there ballrooms? Movie theatres? I know there's an entertainment district but haven't yet ventured out that far. I suppose a bar with a rainbow flag in the window would be too much to ask for.

[Swallowing, he glances down, feeling the glare of being on camera and saying too much.]

Perhaps I should set something up downstairs. At the very least, I have the room.

[He reaches out, and the screen goes black.]

THE NETWORK

Entries tagged with angels in america: prior

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January 2019

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TEXT; UN: J.SHEPPARD

voice (UN ????) | open to anon/misfire replies

video | un: Priorly (old man yells at clouds)

001: that time richard made a post on that network thing (video)

video | un: Priorly