Who: The Port's Latest Shadow Televisions Stars! And Thousands of Home Viewers!
When: Midnight, Saturday December 17th
Where: In front of your Television Sets or Streaming NV TV. (Digital Cable? You'll still get the analog effect.)
Summary:
Full Plot Details HereWarnings: Please Put 'em In the Subject Lines As Necessary, Kids?
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We're all trapped in a maze of relationships, life goes on with or without you )
[He’s smiling, but the expression is a wicked one, eyes alight with some sadistic pleasure.] Oh, you’re paying attention? Well, that’s good. Nobody seems to pay attention to this back home.
[He looks down at something in his hand, and then lifts the hand to show everyone the severed arm, still dripping rivers of blood, clasped in his fingers. The grin doesn’t fade at all.] This is all that’s left of him. Don’t worry; he deserved it. You hurt people? This is the consequence. [A slight flex of his hand, and the arms bursts apart, splashing gore all over him. Not that he seems to care. Any bit that remains is casually tossed over his shoulder ( ... )
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[ It may have been one of the reasons that the city came to have the name of Siren's Port. With its irresistible Pull, the island truly called in its denizens like a siren's spell. ]
[ Caster had resolved to resist it, but she couldn't deny it was partially the cause in searching the streets for the boy she had just witnessed on screen. She had felt something beneath her breastbone that was more than simply the low thrum accompanying the ever-present Pull. The dark-haired boy was unrelated to her, but nonetheless, her legs had carried her outside. While it certainly contributed to her agenda, there were other motives at play, which made her ( ... )
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[His energy was a little unstable, flickering high and low while he tried to settle his heart rate. He wasn’t badly hurt, but it was a bit more than a few scratches and he needed to calm his body out of fight mode. He wasn’t completely unaware of his surroundings, so he sensed the presence getting closer to him, but since it didn’t feel hostile, he didn’t worry about it. Maybe someone was just checking to see if he was okay? It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to think, given how rarely anybody came to this spot.]
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Boy, are you conscious? [ Caster doesn't walk with careless haste, but there's a sure sense of urgency in her stride over to his side. ]
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[He looks up at her, and though his smile was distant, his eyes were not. They were bright and clear, hardly betraying any hint of pain. He probably looked like he was in rough shape though, didn't he?] I'm really okay, Miss. Just tired. I'm not hurt as bad as it might look.
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What are you saying? [ She softly shook her head. ] No, of course, you're saying that. You haven't seen yourself in the mirror.
[ She lowered herself besides him, assessing him from up close. ] Where do you live? Actually, wait, don't speak. I'll take you to the Newcomers' Clinic.
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I’m not actually human; I can take a lot of punishment without getting hurt that badly.
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[ For her, the answer was simple. If they were wounded, they shouldn't have to bandage themselves. Being independent was commendable, but accepting help wasn't a big deal. While some worried that she would harm them, she found that it took every fiber in her being to keep from laughing. If she wanted to make them bleed, she wouldn't let them see her face. With how weak most of them were, she could deal them real injury without even being present. ]
[ She let out a long sigh, letting it calm her slew of thoughts and giving her time to rebuild her composure. When she spoke, weariness softly glided along her gentle tone. ] You might say that...but I came ( ... )
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[He ducked his head a little apologetically.] I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to be difficult. I just didn’t want to inconvenience you. [There was nothing but unabashed sincerity in his words; he wasn’t putting on any airs, or trying to mislead her either way.]
But you’re right. Should do something about these. [He nodded vaguely at himself, indicating his injuries, and took her hand when she offered it.]
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[At the question, his step faltered a little for a second, but then he continued on without further hesitation. He gave a solemn nod.] ... Yeah. I didn't really want to, but . . . I guess you can't always keep denying parts of yourself you don't like, can you? [He wanted to. His Shadow had been callous and sadistic, a born warrior, a child exposed to too much violence too early. He wasn't comfortable with it -- but it was there.]
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You're strong. [ A small, clear smile lights her lips. ] Most people aren't able to accept their weaknesses. [ It made her wonder about the form that her Shadow would take, assuming that hers would make an appearance. The unknown bothered her, especially when she had more than a few secrets to bury. ]
Most people can't usually talk about it so easily, either.
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[Weaknesses, huh? He's not sure that's what he'd call his. Gohan has no problem admitting he has weaknesses. But he does have problems admitting how violent he could be at times. Is that a weakness? The violence?
[When he smiles, it's genuine, but it's not a particularly happy expression. Resigned, maybe.] I guess I've thought about stuff like this before, sometimes. Just never actually had to literally come out and face it.
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