Saturday, December 17th, The Midnight Channel

[thepull_mods]

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 Here
Warnings: Please Put 'em In the Subject Lines As Necessary, Kids?

Comments

[enshadows]

"I just want... to be loved."

The words are quiet. Fragile. There may be one or two people left in the world who have heard Shikamaru use this trembling voice, but for most it might be nearly unrecognizable. His tone is normally so flat and even, annoyed or sarcastic if he's showing any emotion at all. But now it's small, almost like the voice of a frightened little boy on the verge of tears.

Shikamaru seems to step straight out of the brick wall, bleeding from the shadows there. He has been crying, in fact. The faint shimmer of his drying tears catching the pale moonlight. He takes a sharp breath, dramatically laying his hand over his heart as if it aches so badly he could just die. "I want to mean something to someone," he continues, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. "I want them to know that I loved them, too. I want them to know I did it all because I am good. I am good, I am a good person and I deserve to be loved. I really do

[ reactions ]

[enshadows]

[underachieves]

[Yeah, he was expecting a lot of things. But what the fuck is that?]

[proxysearch]

[She watches the broadcast with mild horror, saddened by what she sees. Edgeworth wanted her to look out for him and... And this is his "true self"?

God, Shikamaru. She's so sorry.]

Andrew Yu

[thepull_mods]

[A well-groomed Chinese boy sits at a chess table, in a long boardroom that's set up like some kind of war room. Plastic models and maps of city figures lie scattered, further down the table. There's a white board behind him, with elaborate flowchats and diagrams, their broad-stroked scrawl barely legible in the out-of-focus background.

Focus is sharply drawn on his features- he is flawlessly kempt, his gold eyes gleam, his hands are folded. He wears a crown of thorns, of all things. And he's smiling benignly.

There's a cardboard cutout of a girl, posed at his side, her paper-thin hand rests at his shoulder. She has curly brown hair and a dazzling grin, and she wears a glossy Afterglow Panthers letterman jacket.

A SERO prep school blazer is draped over his own chair.

A single red rose sits beside two captured black pawns, already lined up handsomely in a row beside them.]

You can see where I'm going with this here now, don't you?

How neatly it all lines up? How sad and unfortunate, unnecessary this tragedy is?

[He reaches for

Warnings: Gore, violence, death

[hybrid_prodigy]

[The feed comes on to show Gohan, in Super Saiyan form - or rather the one beyond, what with the blue crackles of lightning periodically flashing through the golden aura - looking thoughtfully at something out of frame. He tilts his head one way, evidently considering something, before looking over his shoulder and seemingly just realizing he’s got an audience.

[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

[Action]

[boundbytreason]

[ It had been a while since she last strode down the street in her Servant's robe, with the hood hung low over her eyes. Perhaps it was like an infection of the city. Trapped within the island, one's problems rested far away in another parallel world. The Port and its daily workings slowly spread through every arrival's veins, until an individual became known as a resident of its confines. ]

[ 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

[Action]

[hybrid_prodigy]

[The surroundings won't be too hard to mistake; it's a wide-open, unpopulated area with the surrounding several metres of ground blasted apart. Gohan had made sure to get the . . . Shadow someplace where it was less likely to hurt anyone.

[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.]

[Action]

[boundbytreason]

[ A soft gasp emerged in a nearly inaudible voice. ]

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. ]

[little_bandages]

[Rather than a set or some kind of beautiful scenery, the screen shows a video game map, playing some generic, 'epic' map music. Green hills and brown patches of dirt are rendered in early 2000s style graphics, and in the center of it stands a slender boy dressed in light clothes and leather armor that suggests some kind of rogue class.

Perhaps he's not too good at it, because he's covered in gauzy, bloodied bandages - on his hands, his arms, his knees. He even wears a medical eye patch. He has a rather familiar pair of black cat ears, and a swishing black tail. But that expression - that expression doesn't look anything like Ritsuka.

He is afraid. Searching.]

Brother? Are you out there?

I'm looking for--

[The image of the boy glitches, suddenly, fading into pixilated dots and disappearing completely. He reappears somewhere else on the screen, looking further distressed and confused.]

I'm looking for my brother...

I don't where I am. I don't know who I am.

[Again, the boy disappears, and re-appears someplace else on the screen

[walkthedawn]

[Woah. What. WHAT. That's... That's not...

He watches Ritsuka's Shadow begin to cry and his heart twists in his chest. Joe had been telling him that these might be the embodiments of people's darkness, and a true part of them. And Souji had said the same. But does that mean that Ritsuka...]

[little_bandages]

[Ritsuka sits up suddenly. He had been half dozing on Riku's shoulder when the video of him started to play.]

...That's....

[He doesn't know what to think, what to say.]

That's not me! Turn it off! TURN IT OFF RIGHT NOW!

[walkthedawn]

[He does immediately as asked, turning of the television. But he doesn't say anything for a moment, unsure of what the best response should be. Ritsuka never wants to be coddled. He never wants to be treated like a child.

But this display... He feels terrible. And even if it's true, even if it's some part of him, he doesn't hold him accountable for it.]

Ritsuka.

Warning: Distrubing themes, extreme violence and gore, possibly triggering abuse

[makes_asteroids]

[Magneto's show is here cut for possibly triggering material.]

reaction

[makes_asteroids]

[He'd mostly been attempting to ignore the 'shows'. But the change in colour catches his attention and he watches. By the time it ends, he's sick, bile rising, and he sprints to the restroom.

After he just locks himself in the shower, hot water pouring over him.]

[tiny_schemer]

[Czeslaw, on the other hand, has been watching the transmissions with all the glee and interest of... well, a ten-year-old boy watching the funnies before the news reel. He finds these little clips - and everyone's overdramatic response to them - very funny indeed.

It's about a half hour into Erik's little middle-of-the-night shower when Czeslaw knocks softly on the door.

He's been sitting there awhile, actually, his back against the wall next to the door frame, waiting for him to come out.]

You're still alive in there, right Erik?

[makes_asteroids]

[He was alive. Sitting in the floor of the shower, water washing over him. With the blast on full spray, he had to yell over it.]

I'm fine.