Adstringéndum NPC (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
adstring_npc) wrote2011-05-08 07:48 am
adstring_npc) wrote2011-05-08 07:48 am
Entry tags:
{Animus}
[There is a static hum on everyone's PCD, as the screen goes black. it starts to whisper, before ghostly voices seep through the communication lines--
...Except instead of obnoxious text, there's an absolutely piercing shriek. Think banshee.
Then children laughing, high pitched and delighted. Then distortion-
A throaty opera singer, carrying a note longer than should be physically possible-
Jaunty rock. Explosive jazz. One sound after another, barely long enough to register, so it's little more than a jarring cacophony of noise.
Eventually it fades into static, then silence for all of a few seconds- before closing on a final crash of cymbals.]
...Except instead of obnoxious text, there's an absolutely piercing shriek. Think banshee.
Then children laughing, high pitched and delighted. Then distortion-
A throaty opera singer, carrying a note longer than should be physically possible-
Jaunty rock. Explosive jazz. One sound after another, barely long enough to register, so it's little more than a jarring cacophony of noise.
Eventually it fades into static, then silence for all of a few seconds- before closing on a final crash of cymbals.]
no subject
[Cackling begins and she enables the tiny sketch pad program on her communicator.]
[And image is sent with her communicator.]
"THIS IS MY SUPERIOR. HAHAHAHA. I drew you too, I don't know what you smell like so I just made you a person with the licorice color."
no subject
we are without those superiors
we don't have arms
no subject
no subject
long and twitchy
our motored-coordination is out of power
[Audio]