elnysa | Entries tagged with fullmetal alchemist: olivier armstrong

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shashka

You know, with all the tension that's going on right now, I almost forgot that if my world was still around. it'll have been forty one years since D-Day. June 6th, 1944.

[ and that's a lie. he definitely wouldn't forget that day.

what's D-day, you might ask, if you're not from Earth, or it hasn't happened for you yet? well... to boil it down to the simplest (and perhaps slightly tinged with Soviet Propaganda) terms... ]

Back then, a country called the Soviet Union was about three years into what they called "The Great Patriotic War". Millions of their soldiers died on the front lines as they fought a war that would determine the fate of the world. On the Continent, they stood alone. That isn't to say that they didn't have allies, far from it. But those allies were across oceans and seas, and the only help that they might've look for that was a little closer had long since rolled over and admitted defeat. At least until D-Day, that is.

With international cooperation, the Soviet Union's distant allies were finally able to breach their enemies' defences, storming their beaches and opening up a second front. Heroes were made, and lifelong friendships were forged. Hell, even the French were finally able to take back their country. And one rumour has it that a kid or two was even born on the very beaches that they stormed.

[ well... just one kid. ]

Until, of course, the tide shifted, and a different kind of war began, where old friends became enemies, and killed each other for their distant leaders. But that's a story for another time.

[ after all, there's only so much you can oversimplify 20th century geopolitics. ]

I know when we first woke up, there were plenty of us from Earth, but I'm curious as to how many of us actually remember D-Day. Or, the Great Patriotic War, for that matter. How much do we really know about the people we talk to each day?

[ is he going to provide more information? no. does he care if anyone catches on? well... that'll be interesting if they do.

while he hasn't exactly been one for birthdays, he is interested to see if others might pick up on the post's deeper meaning. ]

summertimeblues

[The feed begins with a man in his late thirties, one hand welded to his forehead in consternation. Adjacent is a swanky looking turntable, and stacks of records can be seen on a table behind the sofa. The titles are indiscernible but it looks to be a ballpark of about fifty albums.

He stares into the camera, desolate.]

All right kids, I'll concede: my folks would have cracked my radio if they heard how much I let The Doors holler out of it. I know it's a pattern and every generation thinks the one after it is a tasteless pack of miscreants. And I've been keeping an open mind. I can't afford not to. Music was my job, and for the most part the stuff hitting the airwaves had been pretty solid. Whoever's been picking out tunes for me up above has been doing pretty damn swell so far, too. Soundgarden was great, Lauren Hill, the Alabama Shakes — there's a lot of good shit I've missed out on because my apocalypse hit so early.

[He takes a deep breath.]

But today, I need an explanation.

[He takes a record out of a sleeve. Sets it on the player and closes his eyes in bitter resignation as the thing gets rolling.

His jaw clenches tight as the music starts.

"Hiya Barbie!"
"Hi Ken!"
"Do you wanna go for a ride?"
"Sure Ken!"
"Jump in!"
"I'M A BARBIE GIRL! IN A BARBIE WO-O-ORLD! LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT'S FANTASTIC!!"

A comely but irate redheaded woman stomps into the background.]

If you don’t shut that off, there’s going to be cats clawing at our window to check out who’s dying!

[Richie rips the record off, vein pulsing in his forehead.]

Music is dying, Bev! It's over! We've lost the war!

[She scoffs, disappearing once more. Richie looks to the camera.

He snaps the record in two with a malicious crack and tosses the pieces behind him.]

I don't know who allowed this to happen, but you ought to be ashamed of yourselves.

[The video cuts out. Please deposit your apologies and condolences below.]

vorrutyer

[ Byerly is on screen, looking pained and unhappy. ]

Nom de Dieu, I'm bored. Let's start some gossip.

Tell me - this question goes out to everyone - who's the worst person here? Or if that doesn't work, tell me who you like best. Or - mm - at least tell me who you've been secretly eyeing. Or just make up a salacious rumor, I don't care, just tell me something fun.

doomedtheworld

This has been bothering me for a little while....

Back on my world there was a tyrant who was overthrown and killed. Before he died, he told the person who took him down "by killing me, you have doomed yourself." We never know exactly what he meant but then all of this happens. I just want to know if--

["if this is my fault" but she holds that back. There's a pause for a second or two before she continues.]

I want to know if anybody else here was warned about the end of your world. If there was any way to have seen this coming.

flashystyle

[When a voice comes over the device, its tone is stern and mildly demanding.]

I've had quite enough of all this doom and gloom.

We are having a meeting. The Thesa Station, before the latest patch of unfortunate souls join us. I'm preparing a room for all of us, and by the bloody Maker you all are going to join me. Bring something to write with, because I will implore you to take notes. If you can't make it, I'll just assume you'll listen to my soothing voice over these devices anyway.

[With a click, it almost ends there—but Dorian quickly resumes the stream.]

... Also, if anyone with the strength to lift a few kegs, chairs, and other heavy objects would join me beforehand, I'd greatly appreciate it. Also, perhaps, someone who can work a stove. And... also someone with more technical know-how than I—I am quite necessary in this equation, rest assured, but it would make things much easier. Cheers.

[And, finally, it ends there.]

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.

winecasks

[ Grantaire is where he usually is, huddled off with his wine in the corner of a tavern somewhere in Wyver. He doesn’t seem to be too far into this endeavor, considering he’s plenty eloquent when he decides to make a speech to the network.

It’s less than rousing. It's mostly complaints. ]

All this talk of politics has made me weary, friends. To be frank, I hardly understand it at all. I have listened. I drink, it’s true, but I listen. My ears are far better than my eyes or my memory, and no one ever tunes their conversation to exclude the fellow enjoying his drink in the corner.

[ This much seems to be true, given how he’s been rambling at length and no one has bothered to silence him. There’s chatter in the background as people enjoy their own conversations, separate from him as he drinks from the bottle. ]

I have heard things. Things about how the first to wake were welcomed gladly by Olympia, and others still were welcomed by Wyver later on. My ears are fine and well, I assure you, but my mind is perhaps foggy. It cannot comprehend what happened to create this change. Politics. Surely that is the only answer. It always is.

[ He rolls his eyes, taking another drink. ]

Well, I’ll not partake in any of it. I have no love for one city over another, no love for a king over an empress. I do not disdain monarchy, though I do not disdain those who do. I simply disdain politics. Tell me why I should choose one side or another, or why I should change my mind on the matter.

centurian

[ so... Garrus likes poking around the network. he likes it a lot. but it's the first time that he's actually... really gone through with the effort to make a post on on it. might as well start with the small talk. ]

so, i've been up for a while and i can't help but notice something.

there's a lot of humans around here. a lot of humans that are awake, and not so many of any other species. take me, for example. back home, as amazing as i am, i'm only one example out of billions of turians. here, i'm the only one.

if you ask me, it's a little strange.

does anyone have a good, sound, scientific explanation for this? like humans are more storm-proof, or something? and how many of you guys are the only ones of your species that are around? are you used to it? do you find it weird that the locals don't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary?

all i'm saying is there's a lot of questions.

[ oh, and for good measure... ]

and, if any of you orbiters are hanging out around here, you're also welcome to answer!

vorrutyer

[ Unlike any of Byerly’s previous posts, which consisted of him monologuing interminably, this post looks to be a dialogue. There are actually two people on screen - Byerly’s lanky, elegant, sloe-eyed self, and next to him a small odd-looking fellow with intense features and a too-large head set on a hunched spine. For all the differences between them, though, the two look like they could be brothers, or at least cousins - similar noses, similar bone structure, similar skin tone, similar hair color. Ah, the products of Barrayaran inbreeding.

You can tell who set up the camera by the framing. Byerly is centered, and sitting at an angle that best shows off his fine features. Miles Vorkosigan, the small fellow, is squished off into a corner of the frame. By is the first to speak, too. ]

Bonsoir, lovely fellows and ladies. Your bosom friend and brother Byerly here with an important announcement. Though you have known me as His Imperial Majesty Byerly II of Barrayar, now I’m just plain By, because my position has been usurped. [ A fake mournful sigh. ] Brutal civil war. Deadly. Horrible. I’ve been dealt a monstrous blow.

[ Miles, meanwhile, just kind of rolls his eyes skyward. Spare him from his cousin’s melodrama. ] If by “usurped” you mean “assumed rightful authority,” then yes. I usurped you. With little resistance, I might add. [ A pause; he straightens his small frame as best he can - not that it’s especially effective given the camera angle. ] Did you really go around calling yourself His Imperial Majesty Byerly II?

But of course. [ Byerly blinks in mock-innocence. ] Sire, don’t tell me that you don’t see the Imperial office as worthy of respect. I was simply demanding the dignity due to the camp stool.

Is it more dignified to lose it to a civil war too? [ Miles arches a brow in turn. ] I could fight you, I suppose.

Oh, please don’t do that, sire. [ By’s expression is a reasonable approximation of pained. ] I don’t want to hurt you. He’s very fragile, you see. [ The last is said conspiratorially to the audience, as though Miles couldn’t hear. And, swiftly, before he can be executed for treason - ] So I wished to introduce my dear sometime-cousin and current-overlord to the network, as a grand announcement of an enormous life change, and an announcement that I will of course be hosting a coronation party for him.

-- What?

[ There’s not even the slightest twinkle of amusement in Byerly’s face; he looks perfectly solemn as he explains - ]

It is, of course, customary for those invited to a coronation to bring gifts of tribute. I would not presume to speak for my lord Emperor, but I might suggest gifts of alcohol. Or something a little harder than alcohol? A fellow does grow tired of only being drunk, and the Emperor is quite a fan of stimulants, which is why you’ll hear him babble endlessly, all the time. Would that suit you, sire?

[ Miles has been working his mouth like a frog in the background this whole time; he still sputters a moment, staring at Byerly in disbelief. ] I never agreed to a party, By -- [ He interrupts himself with a beautiful stream of cursing in Greek. ] For god’s sake, that won’t be necessary.

[ Loudly, speaking over his Emperor - ] That sounds like a yes to me! I’ll see you all tomorrow night. [ And with a wink, he cuts the feed. ]

[ ooc: blue is Byerly, red is Miles ]

almaredemptoris

To Whom It May Concern,

Based on the current cycle of the moon, Easter ought to fall on the 7th Sunday from today, which would make tomorrow Ash Wednesday. I do not expect that a great many here share in these traditions, being that we are refugees of countless lands. I wish only to ask if any have attempted to establish the faiths of our home lands here in this new one, if there exist places of worship outside of the temples of Olympia and Wyver.

With sincerest thanks,

U.F.

smithandwesson

As I am sure many of you are aware at this point there seem to be quite a few cultural differences here that many of us are slowly trying to accustom ourselves to upon arriving on El Nysa.
One of the more obvious ones is this planets interests in celebrating ones own... lascivious tendencies.
Surely I can't be the only one to be moderately agitated by the constant barrage of aphrodisiac laced trickery, both man-made and natural on this planet.

I suppose what I'm trying to bring to discussion is, everyone's personal responses to what's forced upon us. Especially those of us who live in Wyver who have no way to avoid it every time the end of the month roles around. You know, since it seems to be a time based situation over Olympia's more location based magic.

[Surely he can't be the only person perturbed by all these darn aphroevents.]

ayes

[When the video turns on, You is standing next to a wooden box, about the size of a large microwave oven, her hand resting on its top. She seems to be in the marketplace of Olympia.

She waves at the camera.] Hi~!

So, this place has months that are pretty much just like the ones on Earth, right? Which means that we're coming up on a very special holiday: Valentine's Day! Seriously, it's right around the corner!

If you don't have it where you're from, Valentine's Day is a holiday all about love, and romance, and celebrating the people you love! [There's the slightest of pauses. She frowns a little bit.] Actually, to tell the truth, it's a little bit different in Japan, but-- but that's not important right now! The important thing is, it's almost here!

And I know that since we're all still uprooted from home, it's probably really lonely to spend Valentine's Day by yourself. Sooooo... I'm gonna find everyone a match! [She beams at the camera, using her thumbs and fingers to form a heart-shape in front of her chest. It's honestly kinda precious.

She breaks the heart shape to tap the top of the wooden box.] Seriously, I'm gonna do it! I've got a box set up in Olympia, and one set up in Wyver, and you can fill out the form and put it in the box, and I'll go full-speed-ahead at finding you a perfect match! And, we'll all have a big dinner party with your new date!

[Another pause. Her expression turns sheepish.] Actually, if anyone wanted to help chip in money for that... renting the place is gonna be really expensive...

--but yeah, you should sign up! It's going to be great!

((ooc information and signups can be found here!))

flashystyle

[Amid the sounds of the Institute break room comes the noise of a crisp bagel being buttered, followed by a particularly bored drawl. With little elaboration to where this is coming from, a clearly very hard at work Dorian simply asks:]

Three points per round, and the first to three rounds wins. Foul for rhetoric, repetition, synonyms, and statements. No non sequiturs. Now, is anyone up for a game of questions?

fiendennor

Do you believe in magic?
If so, what do you know about it?

vorrutyer

[ Byerly, a handsome fellow with a hard-to-place accent that just sounds a bit different, is lounging on a couch. The angle isn't entirely flattering, since he's filming himself while laying supine, and so there's a view sort of halfway up his nostrils that is a little bit too much information. A bottle of brandy dangles from one hand, and his voice is slurring just a bit. This fellow seems quite drunk. ]

Bonsoir, you grunting peasants and cultureless rubes, and happy Winterfair to all. For those of you who are cultureless monsters, Winterfair is a time when gifts are exchanged and joy is had. My gift to you is that I won't call any of you peasants again for the duration of this broadcast. Winterfair was also the last Emperor's birthday, or thereabouts, which meant everyone had to give him their taxes for the year, but mine's not till later, so you don't need to pay me till then. I'll let you know when taxes are due. Start saving up now.

So what should you all give me instead? I suppose to begin with you could entertain me. What do you say, my cream puffs - a little game of two truths and a lie? You know the rules, since the rules are literally the name of the game. Go on, play with me, do. I'll start. I'm currently rightful Emperor of Barrayar, my great grandfather Pierre once showed up to a Winterfair ball soaked in blood to send a message, I'm terrible in bed.

Anyone who opts out of the game, I'm going to assume they're simply too in love with me to speak with me, so don't play at your own risk.

[ He winks, and then lifts the brandy to his mouth - and it apparently goes down at a bad angle, because he sits up, coughing and spluttering and getting alcohol down his front before he shuts off the feed. ]

bentbloodline

[Tarrlok flips on the video and offers a polite bow to the camera.]

Hello everyone. For those of you that I've yet to meet, my name is Tarrlok.

[He's had a few things on his mind lately. He understands politics all too well. While it can't be denied that they've all been shown generosity as refugees, there was the terrorist attack, and Tarrlok isn't so naive as to think that everything is as perfect as some representatives of Olympia or Wyver would like people to believe.]

It's occurred to me that as refugees, we could benefit from being better organized as a group. In fact, I believe even our gracious hosts, Wyver and Olympia, could benefit from us being better organized.

[Not as much, admittedly, but. He continues, so he can explain. He doesn't know where people have placed their loyalties thus far, and so he's being careful to emphasize the idea of it being beneficial to everyone.]

I would like to propose establishing a group that represents the refugee population on El Nysa. This group would research both communities and help refugees better integrate into the two societies we've been invited to participate in. We would also serve to help place people into workplaces that would best suit them, and thus fill an essential need for all sides.

[There's plenty he would like to do with such a group, but for now he'll focus on something that no one could really find objectionable.]

Please reply here if you're interested, and we can set up an in person meeting in the near future to talk about it further.

(ooc: I will also be setting up a catchall log. This was intended to start developing political discussion for people who replied to Tarrlok's top level on the CR meme)

saucius

Hey, I'm the Exile. I know, weird name.

So, hear me out.

[ Hear is all you can do anyway, as the Exile is big on not showing her face. ]

Would people be oh so opposed to grab your stuff and move somewhere else in the planet? Away from Olympia and Wyver and whoever else might be out there?

[ It's not exile if you leave willingly right? And if nobody kicks you out. ]

And before someone invites me to leave alone, I'm more interested in building something lasting. I can't do that by myself.

But ask yourselves this: would they let us? These powers that be. Just how much freedom we have?

Think about it.

pricechecked

[It's later in the day and the bomb has gone off, but someone hasn't yet heard about it. He's got a slightly more pressing question right now. It's a good one, really.]

HOW DO YOU FIGHT A PERSON WITH A GUN????

[He's also kind of an older guy too. Texting doesn't come natural to him.]

mmiab

Hellooooooooooooooooooooo Nysans!

Nysans? El Nysans? El Nysonians? I don't know. Weird, this new planets lark, I'm out of practice, it's been a while. New planets! Fun!

Anyway. Hello. Occurred to me just now, and by just now I mean I'm bored and it's occurred to me before but I've been storing it up for an opportune moment, that there's a lot of you to whom I still haven't introduced myself! And since introducing myself can sometimes be a bit of a palaver, I'm going to go ahead and get through as many of you as I can with this one quick broadcast. Right. Here we go. Ready? Ready.

[ here, the stupid strange-faced bowtie-wearing man with the big grin who's staging a brief (I say brief...) takeover of your screens and attention takes a deeeeeep breath. rubs his hands together!!! grins again, and— ]

Hi! Hello. I'm the Doctor. Yes, the Doctor, not a doctor, though I'm one of those too, in many disciplines, none of them medical. Can still probably save you from losing a leg if I can get my hands on the right alien tech, though. Bit of a jack of all trades. Space and time travelling alien, to get that bit out of the way while we're at it. Two hearts. Legs. Okay? Okay.

While I'm here, let's play a getting to know you game. Yeah? [ a pause, in which he's waiting for an answer that he— apparently receives? from who, your guess is as good as mine. ] Hah hah. Yeah. Good. Getting to know you through the age old medium of word association! This is either going to be great fun or get very boring very quickly, so we'll see how it goes. It's the extended edition, rules are slightly different: for every word you give, you have to explain the link from the last one. However obvious.

Ready? Okay. Here we go. I'll give you a few choices for a starter. ... Train, story, sun, space, fashion, smile, or hope.

And we're off!

[ and he's... also off. (thank God????) good luck nysa... ]

congratulating

[ This has been an emotionally draining few weeks for Rin. He notes how tired she just even though she refused to outright display any weakness in front of him. Kirei is fully aware that her title of sixth head of Tohsaka family has forced her to keep contact with him -- and by extension, Jeanne Alter.

As her legal guardian, he is aware he should do something to lower her unease and stress.
Yes, he could buy her some small trinket with the small amount of silver he has acquired. It would help to ease the tension between them a marginal some but still --

Or, he could buy something he knows she is obligated to take that purposely puts stress on her. Yes, he knows what he is going to do, but likes pretend there was another option. ]

Pardon me, everyone. I am attempting to buy a gift for one of my housemates, as it were.

I have only ever bought her gifts for birthdays and holidays and so I have no idea what to get for a 'just because.' Normally, I would think a new cellphone would be a kind gift but... well, I doubt I will find that here. In any case, what would be best?

[ Unless someone knows something he does not. ]

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Entries tagged with fullmetal alchemist: olivier armstrong

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002 | text | un: colt.saa | (slightly backdated to June 6th)

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