irregular: (how about no?)
[Ken's set the Dreamberry up against a book; he's slumped opposite it, chin resting on one wrist. The picture is slightly crooked, and he reaches out to steady the screen.

[Then he glares at it, as if it personally has done him some grave disservice.]


So, these dream... post things. What right have we got to be seeing this stuff?

[I'm looking at you, Dreamberry. Ken glares a bit more, then sighs.]

This ain't TV, right? It's... someone else's head in here. It's private and this thing's dishing it up like it was a stupid drama or something and it's - you're all, why not watch it if it's there? Like TV. And everyone does it and it starts seeming so normal and... and what the Hell's with that, why's that supposed to be okay now just because it's everywhere and--

Look, I'm not saying I'm better than anyone else, I do it too and I don't know why I ever figured it was just fine to, it's not a show and... and... Damn, I hate this place!

[And off.]
irregular: (well that doesn't look right)
[Ken's already clicked the feed on, but he hesitates for a moment before speaking, trying to compose his thoughts.

[He's not really sure on the protocol for situations like this. He's not even sure this counts as a situation. Dominic's a grown man and he can look after himself and it's not like it's unusual to go a while without hearing from him. Ken's being an idiot over this whole thing, but--

[--but something just feels strange, that's all.]


Has anyone heard from Dominic lately? That's Dominic Sorel. He's a, uh... [Dammit, what does he do again?] We're friends. I went to drop some stuff round and he wasn't in and it's kinda weird, so--

[You're babbling.]

Well I kinda wondered if anyone's heard from him is all. I-- thanks.

[OOC: Takes place after this post of Dominic's, for obvious reasons.]
irregular: (that could have gone better)
[The video cuts in to show Ken frowning down into the camera, breathing a little too hard and too fast, and biting his lip. Clearly he is looking for something in one of the Dreamberry's menus, jabbing at the keys beneath the screen; just as clearly he triggered the video feed in the process. The image shakes: he's grasping the Dreamberry as firmly as he can, but it doesn't seem to stop his hands from trembling. Confusion crosses his face for a moment or two as he tries to work out why the screen's changed, then he mutters a frustrated curse, but the audio doesn't seem to pick it up.

[The picture cartwheels madly as he tosses the Dreamberry onto the bank he's sitting on. When it lands and the tumbling stops, the screen shows nothing but a slice of sky, thin skeins of clouds drifting overhead. Sixty seconds later, the feed times out.]

[OOC: Ken's been dead for a week after Muraki murdered him, and has lost his voice as a penalty. Replies will be in the form of text messages, or possibly charades.]
irregular: (at least this houseplant loves me)
[Unfiltered. Let's see how long it takes Ken to realize this.]

[Ken sits on the edge of the fountain in Espoir, frowning into the camera in aggrieved confusion, as if it personally has done him some disservice.]

Uh... this is probably gonna sound dumb but Does anyone know what kind of stuff you get a girl you like that isn't totally stupid or creepy?

[The head and neck of a toy giraffe are just visible in the lower right hand corner of the frame. Ken glances over at it as he speaks, then shoves it quickly down in an attempt to get it out of shot, without any real noticeable success. An awkward look flickers across his face. Great, so he's already seriously regretting deciding to ask this question and he hasn't even finished saying it yet...]

And I'm not gonna do flowers.

[The feed cuts off quickly.]
irregular: (what'd i miss?)
[Have a very, very rumpled and bleary-eyed Ken, rubbing at his eyes with one hand as he struggles to get his Dreamberry working with the other. Triggering the video feed was not what he had in mind, but either he hasn't noticed that small detail or simply doesn't care.

[He yawns, incompletely covering his mouth with his hand, and blinks a couple of times and for some reason he's got a horrible feeling he's late for work. In fact he's got a feeling he is incredibly late for work, so late that if he was anyone else doing any other job he'd probably have been five minutes away from a pink slip. How long's he been asleep for, anyway? Don't these things have the time on them somewhe--]


... this thing working? Wait, what date's everyone else got?!