[House 47, you just got a most unpleasant wake-up call. Namely, loud banging and the whining of a terrified canine. Sigmund has just kicked Capell's door with all of his considerable strength and put his fist through the wall in the hallway.
Because it's not Capell's door anymore.
He's not going to wait to make the courtesy announcement, mostly because he's not sure how long he's going to keep it together. As it is, even over the journal his voice has a tight, brittle quality to it.]
If you knew him, Capell is... [He won't say 'home.' He's not. Home is with him. He won't.] ...gone.
Because it's not Capell's door anymore.
He's not going to wait to make the courtesy announcement, mostly because he's not sure how long he's going to keep it together. As it is, even over the journal his voice has a tight, brittle quality to it.]
If you knew him, Capell is... [He won't say 'home.' He's not. Home is with him. He won't.] ...gone.
Stay in the box. [...] No. Stay in the bo- Stay-
[And that's when Sigmund realizes the journal already started recording while he was distracted.]
( Sokka )
( Simon )
( Katara, 99% Unhackable )
( "Action" for housemates )
[And that's when Sigmund realizes the journal already started recording while he was distracted.]
( Sokka )
( Simon )
( Katara, 99% Unhackable )
( "Action" for housemates )
[This morning, there is a series of images appearing in the journal. Nothing more, nothing less. Ask what's going on, and you'll probably get more of the same. Luceti is a strange place, isn't it?]
( For Albert and Caesar )
( For Katara )
( For Richard )
[With those messages taken care of, Sigmund makes a quick round of the house to check that everything and everyone is well before he starts his morning routine. Unfortunately, this leads to a less than thrilling discovery. Aya's room is empty. Gone. He knows he should be pleased that she's not trapped here any longer... so why does he feel that twinge of loneliness and guilt? He'll knock on both Ed and Capell's doors before he goes, so that he can give them the news. ...Individually. Individually would probably be best.
Oh, and there was that matter he wanted to speak to Edward about, as well... But perhaps today isn't the best day.]
( For Katara )
( For Richard )
[With those messages taken care of, Sigmund makes a quick round of the house to check that everything and everyone is well before he starts his morning routine. Unfortunately, this leads to a less than thrilling discovery. Aya's room is empty. Gone. He knows he should be pleased that she's not trapped here any longer... so why does he feel that twinge of loneliness and guilt? He'll knock on both Ed and Capell's doors before he goes, so that he can give them the news. ...Individually. Individually would probably be best.
Oh, and there was that matter he wanted to speak to Edward about, as well... But perhaps today isn't the best day.]
[A couple of inkspots appear on the page, as if the owner of the journal is pondering what to write. Then a short pause, and it switches over to voice. Or perhaps "voice." After a minute of nothing but the wind and the faint sound of the river, the entry is cut off by the sound of the journal closing.
... Or is it?
About a half-hour later, there is a muffled thump and the sound of pages flapping through the air before another soft whump. Did someone... punch something over? Faintly, there's a note on a flute. Another, another... an... ear-piercing shrill.] I don't understand why this is so- [Soft grumbling. If one listens closely, they can pick out the occasional word. Something about some "Veros" character, and several shocking allegations about questionable portions of his anatomy. Yet another pause, and then...
SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Shortly followed by a small splash.
...
And then hurried footsteps and a much larger one.]
... Or is it?
About a half-hour later, there is a muffled thump and the sound of pages flapping through the air before another soft whump. Did someone... punch something over? Faintly, there's a note on a flute. Another, another... an... ear-piercing shrill.] I don't understand why this is so- [Soft grumbling. If one listens closely, they can pick out the occasional word. Something about some "Veros" character, and several shocking allegations about questionable portions of his anatomy. Yet another pause, and then...
SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Shortly followed by a small splash.
...
And then hurried footsteps and a much larger one.]
To those I spoke with about further training:
I will be at the Barracks this Wednesday evening. You may meet me there so that I can asses your skills.
If there are others without knowledge of self-defense, I am still capable of taking on more students. I would suggest you consider the opportunity carefully. You may not always have the luxury of another to fight on your behalf.
[Filtered to his Edward, 40% unhackable]
Edward, I wish to speak with you. My room, if you would.
[OOC Notes of Doom: If there is interest, I will toss up a post or a log on Wednesday for the class. Otherwise, if you could just leave me a note or pm me or ping me on aim or something, so I can get an idea of your character's general skill and attitude about the whole thing and how Sig will react to them.
Also, I know I still have tags on the last post. Gettin' to 'em now. Sorry about that.
...Oh. And the start of Sig's relationship post is here, if you wanna see that.]
I will be at the Barracks this Wednesday evening. You may meet me there so that I can asses your skills.
If there are others without knowledge of self-defense, I am still capable of taking on more students. I would suggest you consider the opportunity carefully. You may not always have the luxury of another to fight on your behalf.
[Filtered to his Edward, 40% unhackable]
Edward, I wish to speak with you. My room, if you would.
[OOC Notes of Doom: If there is interest, I will toss up a post or a log on Wednesday for the class. Otherwise, if you could just leave me a note or pm me or ping me on aim or something, so I can get an idea of your character's general skill and attitude about the whole thing and how Sig will react to them.
Also, I know I still have tags on the last post. Gettin' to 'em now. Sorry about that.
...Oh. And the start of Sig's relationship post is here, if you wanna see that.]
Residents of Luceti-
I am Sigmund. It is possible that some of you may recognize the name. To those I have not yet contacted, I apologize. The circumstances of my return have been less than ideal.
It has come to my attention that there are those here lacking in basic self-defense. This is a situation that must be remedied. For those interested, I am willing to share my knowledge of swordsmanship. If there is enough response, I will organize lessons. If not, I am still capable of teaching a few apprentices.
Be aware, though, that I will expect dedication and commitment, and will not tolerate foolery. Battles are not games for children to play at.
If I do not respond immediately, be patient. I've other business to attend to.
[And in his bedroom, that other business is... writing. A great deal of writing, in fact, on loose paper and interspersed with hurried sketches. The stacks of paper are starting to grow large and messy, indicating he's been at it for quite some time. To someone who knows Sigmund, the contents would be familiar. An anecdote of his childhood in Halgita here, a sketch of the throne room there; a description of the Cobasna Timberlands and the ships at Zala on one stack, and the next stack over, an account of meeting Balbagan written around a drawing of his ax. It is as if he is feverishly trying to write his entire life down... almost as if he were afraid of forgetting it.
Every so often he pauses and glances at his journal, which he has propped open against a candlestick he stubbornly refuses to get rid of. A few other sheets of paper have been sacrificed for a sort of improvised paper screen between him and the book. Damnable things. If only the ease of communication didn't mean such an affront to privacy.]
I am Sigmund. It is possible that some of you may recognize the name. To those I have not yet contacted, I apologize. The circumstances of my return have been less than ideal.
It has come to my attention that there are those here lacking in basic self-defense. This is a situation that must be remedied. For those interested, I am willing to share my knowledge of swordsmanship. If there is enough response, I will organize lessons. If not, I am still capable of teaching a few apprentices.
Be aware, though, that I will expect dedication and commitment, and will not tolerate foolery. Battles are not games for children to play at.
If I do not respond immediately, be patient. I've other business to attend to.
[And in his bedroom, that other business is... writing. A great deal of writing, in fact, on loose paper and interspersed with hurried sketches. The stacks of paper are starting to grow large and messy, indicating he's been at it for quite some time. To someone who knows Sigmund, the contents would be familiar. An anecdote of his childhood in Halgita here, a sketch of the throne room there; a description of the Cobasna Timberlands and the ships at Zala on one stack, and the next stack over, an account of meeting Balbagan written around a drawing of his ax. It is as if he is feverishly trying to write his entire life down... almost as if he were afraid of forgetting it.
Every so often he pauses and glances at his journal, which he has propped open against a candlestick he stubbornly refuses to get rid of. A few other sheets of paper have been sacrificed for a sort of improvised paper screen between him and the book. Damnable things. If only the ease of communication didn't mean such an affront to privacy.]
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chasethestars
chasethestars