David Lalonde ϕ tortileGhostwriter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tortileghostwriter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
animus_network2011-11-05 12:44 am
tortileghostwriter) wrote in animus_network2011-11-05 12:44 am
[text]
[...he'd been avoiding others for the most part since his return, much as he had before. staying to his room(not speaking to his roommates if he could help it, obviously), which had given way to seclusion in the libraries, only leaving for quick trips to sustain himself and to return to his room in the evening. but for whatever reason or another...here he was, finally announcing his presence. and he was pissed. and anger outweighs caginess, particularly with this guy.]
I've returned. Look at me, my fellow prisoners, look at me actually typing in a manner reflecting my intelligence and not facetiously communicating like an utter blithering moron for a change. Be grateful. It's a rare spectacle, and only brought on by extraordinary circumstances.
The Medium is nothing more than a ring of wastelands fourfold.
LOCAM is utterly barren. The crocodiles are nowhere to be found. No monsters. Nary a single soul responsive to the most incessant of summons. The gates still worked. The other planets were the same.
Virtually alone in a dead world with only the world tree, and the agonizing wait for the curtain to drop. For the call of omnes exeunt.
Once again.
No need to catch me up on what happened in my absence, and what that quaintest of inane questionnaires was for. I know. I've looked.
I will make one thing very, very clear. Downright crystalline, as if it were a clarion call across the land, calling out to one and all.
If any of the individuals who've made the incredibly misguided mistake of believing that I'll tolerate being made to sit down and fucking take this bullshit or watch as any form of those close to me are made to suffer for even a single moment are reading this--in short, our most jovial and jesting jeering jailers--we are going to have words.
And no, I'm not fucking asking.
[you'll find David in the library, if you're so inclined. Secluding himself in a fort made of books and filled with blankets, stashed food, and yet more books. ...more space is being taken up by books than what food he's stored. priorities. he's occasionally going over to one of the terminals to check up on his network post. his responses might be fairly slow to come at first.]
I've returned. Look at me, my fellow prisoners, look at me actually typing in a manner reflecting my intelligence and not facetiously communicating like an utter blithering moron for a change. Be grateful. It's a rare spectacle, and only brought on by extraordinary circumstances.
The Medium is nothing more than a ring of wastelands fourfold.
LOCAM is utterly barren. The crocodiles are nowhere to be found. No monsters. Nary a single soul responsive to the most incessant of summons. The gates still worked. The other planets were the same.
Virtually alone in a dead world with only the world tree, and the agonizing wait for the curtain to drop. For the call of omnes exeunt.
Once again.
No need to catch me up on what happened in my absence, and what that quaintest of inane questionnaires was for. I know. I've looked.
I will make one thing very, very clear. Downright crystalline, as if it were a clarion call across the land, calling out to one and all.
If any of the individuals who've made the incredibly misguided mistake of believing that I'll tolerate being made to sit down and fucking take this bullshit or watch as any form of those close to me are made to suffer for even a single moment are reading this--in short, our most jovial and jesting jeering jailers--we are going to have words.
And no, I'm not fucking asking.
[you'll find David in the library, if you're so inclined. Secluding himself in a fort made of books and filled with blankets, stashed food, and yet more books. ...more space is being taken up by books than what food he's stored. priorities. he's occasionally going over to one of the terminals to check up on his network post. his responses might be fairly slow to come at first.]