buildstherobots

[phone]

Fine. You people want to play that way?

Enjoy educating newcomers by yourselves. I'm done helping you.

[And, true to his word, he won't be handing out any more letters, at least for the moment. Explain what he's talking about? Why in the world would he do that? Obviously the actions of maybe three people is enough for him to throw a tantrum over the phone lines.]

[action]

[Anyone who might see Dist walking through the streets can see that he's an absolute wreck. Not emotionally -- his expression is uncharacteristically stony. It's his face that's busted up, bruised across his cheek and mouth and his left eye patched over. Well, the place where his left eye should be, but that's not exactly visible. It'd happened a couple of days ago, but that's not quite long enough to heal fully, so for now he's just combed his hair forward a bit in an attempt to cover it all up.

He does seem to have a destination in mind, though, as he's walking particularly quickly.]

[729 Anderson lane]

[KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.]

[Yeah, Dist is still rather bitter about the whole droning thing and his talk with Nina. He hasn't even had the energy to update his letter, which he knows sorely needs doing, and his efforts to repair the Kaiser's gun constantly end in frustration. Sol, his cheagle, to his credit, does his best to comfort his master, but in a house full of drones he's often just too worn out to be consoled.]

[phone]

Someone in this town must be able to teach me to fight. An old resident had begun the process, but he's been... gone... for ages. I will provide compensation if it's required.

[action]

[It's late in the year, but Dist is in his garden anyway, dressed down for the job of digging up his flowerbed and eventually beginning to replicate a pretty white flower, which Sol is replanting for him as he comes up with new ones. They're selenias, flowers native to Auldrant, and it's a comfort to have them there. He's stuck, and might as well make it a home rather than a prison. He'd given up in bits and pieces already, and this just seems fitting. Damn his drone-infested house, damn his lack of friends. Damn it all.]

[phone]

Well, there's no way this little curveball could possibly go awry.

That said, I need accounts from as many of you as possible on the events of last month. I have a working knowledge, but as many of you need to weigh in as possible. It's all for the sake of my beautiful letter... oh, and consequently, all of our newcomers. We're starting to get a wave of them, and again it falls to me to create a comprehensive list. Mayfield is lucky to have such a charitable genius onboard.

So! Personal experiences. please, as well as any gathered information. This should all be professionally documented.

(50%!)

[This is wrong.

Saphir can't pin down what's wrong, exactly, but something is creeping up on him. For one, he isn't mentally referring to himself with his alias any more. For another, he's... comfortable, almost. He eats the food provided by his droned wife happily, leans in for a kiss just before he leaves for work, punctual as always... but halfway through the motion, he stops himself. This isn't who he is. He's not happily married, especially not to a woman, which the Mayfield-compliant half him finds rather reprehensible. Saphir... Dist as never been confused or ashamed of who he is, but that unfamiliar guilt is starting to creep up on him.

It's an illusion, he tells himself, hurriedly rushing out the door. The door to his home, in fact, the home he's had forever, all those memories... no. His prison. His prison filled with unthinking drones. The prison that tortures them all without a thought. Though, it's been quiet, so perhaps that's over... maybe he can settle down, make a life here...]

Action A:
[Saphir can be seen doing his work in the library, vacillating between cheerfully doing what's expected of him and stopping, pensive, fighting with himself. Unsure.]

Action B:
[Dist is wandering town, clearly pensive and confused. He doesn't even know which memories are real any more. He doesn't know who he is and who he's becoming, even which reality he'd prefer. On the one hand, his Professor was alive, he and Jade are still friends and colleagues, he has a happy, normal life... on the other, what if all of that is a sham? He can't decide. He's walking robotically, occasionally simply stopping in the middle of the sidewalk/park, thinking. Searching for truth. Trying to cease the crossfire in his mind. Clearly, he's not watching where he's going.]

Action C:
[Olney's Tavern. One half of him wants a simple beer, the other wants a fancy cocktail. He takes both. Alcohol makes everything better, doesn't it?]

Phone:
...Which reality is right? I can't decide.

[Elaboration? That's for the sober.]

[Phone]

Are you people actually playing along with this farce? I knew most of you were stupid but I didn't know you were this stupid! Anyone playing into their hands on this deserves whatever they get; I have my own target, but they can rest assured that I am not so foolish as to bend to the whims of our captors. And it could be any of you, since I myself cannot reveal the target! Rest easier, knowing that Dist the Rose will not be putting himself on anyone's trail.

[Action]

[Dist, however, does not trust his housemates. He is getting out; making sure to arm himself with the pistols he purchased for his trip to Deadman's Gulch, he heads out to find his own personal shelter. Oddly, he feels better than he has in months; his things are gone, but his eye is back, and the natural assumption to make from there is that his blood fonons have also returned. The false eye was sitting neatly on his bedside table, and as such he keeps it with him just in case.

a: Running to the store! He'll wait days if he has to, and will need provisions. He's dressed down for the trip, to avoid drawing undue attention.

b: Making his way to the library! With some bags! He knows the building well, and knows that there are plenty of supplies inside to barricade himself in with.

c: In the library! He's taking books down off the shelves and stacking then neatly(and in order!) along the walls. He's turned a table on its side and shoved it against the front doors, and absolutely plans on using the shelves for similar things once they're stripped. If he finds you in the library, or if you attempt to join him in it, expect a confrontation.]

[Phone, filtered]

Someone find me a world map.

[Phone 1]

I suppose it's that time again, isn't it? New people everywhere, and a census to boot? You'd think they would know exactly how many people are here, seeing as they brought us here individually, but I digress.

For all of our newcomers, my name is Dist. Many of you have been here for a week or so and have likely come to understand the basics of Mayfield already. I'm here to expand your working knowledge, being the gracious neighbor that I am; I've written up a letter just for you, detailing the most important information you're likely to need, as well as a timeline of events that are significant to our understanding of the town.

Anyone may come by the Mayfield Library to pick up a copy, or multiple copies, for themselves; ask a drone where it is if you don't already know. I will be the man with pale hair and glasses; you'll know it's me because I happen to be gorgeous.

[Action]

[And, like always, Dist can indeed be found in and out of the stacks, mostly keeping himself busy out of boredom. This job? Not the most exciting.]

[Phone 2]

[Later in the evening, and filtered from the usual suspects.]

I have realized that I cannot continue to be effective in my investigations without a more thorough working knowledge of this world and its history. Since the library has a notable lack of history books, I will need someone to inform me. Even after being here as long as I have, all I've gleaned is that America is apparently amazing and Communists are bad. This is, you understand, not enough.

We will not be going over all of this on the phones. We will arrange a time and a place and meet up then. Don't disappoint me.

(ooc: like before, if you're just interested in the letter and not CR with Dist, you don't need to go through the motions of threading to get one. ^^ He'll be handing them out to everyone, so if you would prefer not to thread it out you can just assume your character was given one and sent on their way.)

[Phone]

Ugh, I feel like this is all I do anymore...

Newcomers. Doubtless you've heard the basics of where you've found yourself already, from your so-called "family" or otherwise. Dist the Rose is here to give you a more in-depth explanation; that is, a letter that I myself have been so generous as to compose for you. I'm giving one out to anyone who asks, new or old; for those who have the old version, I've updated it to include the basic gist of what happened last month.

Simply come to either the library or my home, at 1767 Beaver Street. Any drone should be able to tell you where the library is; I'll be in and out of the shelves myself. Look for a slender man with pale hair and glasses.

[Action A]

[If you go to the library earlier in the day, you will indeed find Dist wandering in and out of the rows of books, alternately doing the shelving and sorting that the job requires and peeking through the books himself, pausing every so often to write down a title.]

[Action B]

[On into the afternoon and evening, he's in his driveway, detaching the gun from the Kaiser's belly; it's scorched all to hell and clearly no longer functional. He really has no clue how he's going to fix it without just building a new one from scratch, and without his lab that in itself will be difficult. Dammit, Mayfield.]

(ooc note: if you're not interested in cr with dist, there's no need to post in; you can give your character the letter without threading with me if you'd prefer. ^^ it's out there for you guys; just assume dist gave it to you without incident[shockingly]. a bit of retroactive interaction is fine too, if this shows up before you officially intro; just don't, like... dig it up a week from now if your character wasn't here.)

[Filtered from the usual suspects]

It's absolutely imperative that those if you with notes or information come forward with them, to me, in person. I have many of the clues, including some shared over the phones most recently, and I have been putting them together, but even a brilliant mind cannot complete a puzzle without all the pieces. I will... compensate you if I must, but it is for the greater good of everyone, including yourself, that everything be consolidated in one place.

I will be updating the primer with the latest events once I'm sure that whatever is going on has come to an end.

[Filtered to Ema]

Miss Skye, is it? Is your data safe?

A: [action]
[Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!

It's a flying ~~cockbot~~ robot! Dist has gotten his regain, and it's outfitted his mech with a beautiful set of propellers, all the better for flying all around your lovely town in. It's been a long time since he's gotten to do anything with his beloved Kaiser, and with his chair and its propellers it's finally whole and complete. He's a little giddy.

He may or may not be burning the shit out of trees in the park with something else that came bundled in his regain: the Kaiser's fonon beam. What? They'll grow back!]

B: [phone]

Attention, newer citizens of Mayfield!

[Crap, that was too loud. Yeah, he's at work, at the library. After lowering his voice, he continues.]

There have been more of you arriving since I gave my last offer, so here it is again, since I'm so beautifully generous: I've composed a primer for our unfortunate newcomers, to introduce them to the workings of Mayfield. Doubtless upon arriving here you have asked around and gotten some of the basic details, but I assure you they have not been as comprehensive as the information I have compiled. I have updated it to include some of the more recent events; none of it should be anything new to people who were here for them, but I'd be delighted to pass one out to anyone who would like the updated copy.

Simply come to the library and look for a beautiful man with white hair and glasses. I may be in the stacks or at the front desk, or anywhere really. If you don't know where the library is, ask a drone; they'll be happy to tell you all about its location. My name is Dist.

C: [action again!]

[And, despite looking tired and pale, Dist is rather happily going about his duties in the Library, shelving, stamping, telling stories to the kindergartners... why do they always give him that job? But! He's learned that threatening not to tell them the end of the story if they don't settle the hell down(and following up on it) helps keep things quiet. He may or may not actually be holding a book; sometimes he just makes stuff up, or tells stories from his own world.

Frequently, though, when he starts looking a little too tired and faint, he stops, hiding back among the shelves to sit and rest and possibly eat a candy bar or a handful of almonds. This is when you'll find him looking more emotionally out-of-sorts; as exciting as having his working machine back is, it can't carry his body through a whole, busy day, and the fact that is is so weak like this... well, it doesn't please him, to say the very least.

Teachers, students, fellow library workers, people actually seeking him out, anyone with a reason to be in the place, feel free to bump into him! He'd love to talk to you. Maybe.]

D: [one more action]

[Hey, residents of 1669 Nelson. There's a rose on your front step. No, not Dist, just a single white rose, with no card or explanation of how it got there or who put it there. Have fun with that.]

(ooc note: I snapped a screenshot of Dist's updated Kaiser to give people a visual but I seriously have no clue where the file went, so here's a video that shows you. You don't have to watch the whole thing, because it's long; it shows up like immediately. Also, as a bonus, hear his irritating voice! This is what you've been talking to all this time, folks.)

[Phone call! To the whole town! Except the drones and the usual meddling authority figures. The call is in a moderately hushed tone, but he's easily understandable.]

So, I see that there are many new people, and you may count yourselves as lucky as you can in this place because Dist the Rose is here to take care of you all. I'm sure you've been informed as to the basics of Mayfield, but I've put together a lovely little primer for just this kind of occasion, giving you all of the details you need to bring you fully up to speed, including the most important things that have been inflicted upon us since the first of us can remember arriving here. If you would like to be informed, then come to the library to pick up a copy. If you can't find it, ask any drone where it is, they'll be able to tell you. Look for a gorgeous man with pale hair; someone as extraordinary as myself will stand out.

[And, just a little louder but no so much so that he's quite up to normal talking level.]

And be sure to pick up your free library card! Knowledge is power and all that.

[action]

[And there Dist will be, flitting about, stacking things and shelving things and generally keeping himself busy. He'll also be available to assist anyone who just so happens to be in the library themselves, though every so often he'll have to stop and sit to rest a bit, possibly get down a granola bar outside the view of the head librarian. He can't fit his chair through the door, let alone down the aisles of books, so he's walking everywhere and carrying things and with his condition this tires him out quickly.]

[The voice that comes out of the phone is a wrenching mix of screaming and sobbing; it's as shrill as Dist ever is, but there's desperation to it that isn't really heard that often.]

I don't know what kind of joke this is, but it's just... [a slight sob] this is just cruel! Why would they do this?! It was... it was their bodies all torn apart and bleeding and... and...

[There's a loud sniffle; Dist stares at the phone blearily and muffles a wordless sob, then drops the receiver into the cradle. He's starting to go numb.]

[A bit later, he can be seen out sitting on his front step, dried up(mostly) but still red-faced. He's got blood on him and is occasionally taking a drink out of what looks like a bottle of vodka cut with orange juice. There's a growing pile of tissues next to him.

Most notable, though, is the heap of burning body parts in the yard. Legs, arms, everything, adding up to about four people. Notably, though, there aren't any heads... though someone would have to look pretty hard to notice. Dist is staring numbly at the fire, occasionally throwing a stick or a tissue into it.]

Well well, it seems as though we have quite a few new arrivals, don't we? Well, unlucky as you are to have been brought here, you do have the amazingly good luck of having me here to guide you! It just so happens that I've written up a comprehensive letter to poor souls such as yourselves, detailing out everything you could possibly need to know about our delightful little town.

I highly doubt you would be able to find my assigned "home," so for a few hours you will instead find me located at the park in the middle of town with more than enough to go around. As always, older residents who desire one will also be indulged, what with my truly generous nature after all.

Oh! Truly you should not have any trouble recognizing someone as beautiful as myself, but look for a slender man with white hair. I'm known as Dist the Rose.

[And, sure enough, Dist can be found in the parking lot just outside the park, wearing a new blue coat as his own is rather poor at keeping a person warm. There's a stack of letters on the seat of his motorcycle, probably at least fifty. He's even brought the Cheagle, who is having an inordinate amount of fun playing in the snow.]

[filtered from drones, etc, backdated a few hours]

So I have a gift for all of you. I've finally completed my gorgeously constructed letter to our unfortunate new prisoners; I have a stack of copies here, replicated by yours truly, and will generously give one out to anyone who asks. 1767 Beaver Street.

[filtered to Percy Jackson]

I have also completed the two transmitters I promised you. Two days, as promised. Dist the Rose doesn't break his word, after all. The others are up to you.

[Those who happen by his house can find him sitting on a carefully cleared-away spot on the porch, idly flipping through a book. As promised, there's a stack of papers next to him, as well as a medium-sized box.]

[Filtered from drones, etc]

...The library? Really? They're squandering my talents! The books here are useless; it would be one thing if they contained any useful information, but in my experience they don't. What a waste of my time and my brilliance; watching drones carry off useless tomes about gardening and small engine repair is a job a monkey could do.

[There's a short thud as he pounds his fist of the table.]

I am still available to do any unique construction of mechanical weapons and devices, as well as machine repair of all kinds, but from now on it will have to be by commission exclusively, for obvious reasons. I highly doubt that this "job" will pay very well, certainly not well enough for any parts I'd need to purchase from the town itself. ~~Though stealing from drones is always an option...~~

...Why is everyone shopping?

[Filtered from drones, etc.]

I'm in the process of constructing the perfect primer for those unfortunate enough to join us in this wretched place. Allowing the ignorant to remain such does me no good, nor any of the rest of you. While my memory is as clear and flawless as one might expect from someone of my intelligence, I have not been here forever and thus am sadly unable to make the primer fully comprehensive on my own.

So! I need information about things that happened in this place prior to nine months ago. Any lesser-known but important information about the Westport incident is also welcome; I know most of it but I was droned for the duration, so details may have slipped through the cracks.

[ooc: I won't be up much longer tonight, but I thought I'd throw this up anyway. I'll get to the comments as soon as I can tomorrow. ♥]

This is the most unhealthy meal I've ever seen. How is a person supposed to maintain his weight when he's handed something like this? It doesn't help that my house is full of drones. The cheagle seems to be enjoying himself though.

Also WHY IS THE TURKEY FULL OF SPIDERS?! I've been crushing the damn things for hours! The house is disgusting!

[Dist's voice is calm. Almost neutral. It's a stark contrast to his earlier despondence and subsequent outbursts; truly, he's controlling his voice very closely, but it's hard to pick up over the phones.]

[Filtered from drones, etc]

For those who haven't heard, Olivier is droned. Permanently. All of her things have disappeared and she's puttering around like a mindless housewife, which I suppose is what she is now.

The documents she's collected are still here, and I'll be taking very good care of them. If anyone has cause to see them, come see me.

...I can't believe they're all gone.

[For those that know him, they'll note that his voice is softer than it's ever been before. After he makes the call he stares blankly at the phone for a moment or two before setting it down.

Those walking down Beaver Street might see Dist outside in his driveway, like he is almost constantly, but he hardly seems like himself. There are parts strewn all over, both from the Kaiser and from the car, as though he was intending to do some sort of repairs but forgot what he was doing halfway through; he's sitting amidst the mess, staring out at the street with an expression that's somewhere between misery and rage. Sol is curled up in his lap, and next to them is a pot with a single white flower. Now that Anise is gone, taking care of the selenia has fallen to him.

He may or may not snap and scream at you if you come too close.]

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buildstherobots

December 2020

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Entries tagged with voice

[67] life's a game we're meant to lose

[66] every minor detail is a major decision

[64] nurtured all year, then pressed in a book

[63] there will always be some kind of crisis for me

[62] my friend the dictionary

[61] carrying on with your conspiracies

[60] there's no room for innocence

[59] highly recommended, is this sweet metropolis

[57] in retrospect i'll say we've done no wrong

[56] beyond a fairly vague report

[54]

[51] that's no way to say goodbye

[50] with no one else to turn to!

[49] hasn't it been a wonderful year?

[46] we only work when we need the money

[45] all the drunks they were singing

[44] paper trails are getting longer, can you meet me in the middle

[43] WE LOVE YOU SPIDER

[42] we will take it out in blood

[41] and there's our little willow weeping