Tags: rose lalonde

Violin solo

14th Pesterlog // Auditions! [Video]

[Friday night prime time means another contestant for -- "Teenage Pop Idols!!" And boy does Frgynyak Gorrig is looking excited about this crop!]

Welcome back ladies and gentleman--live from the Epicdome--it's Teenage Pop Idols! We have an excellent crop of contestants for you!! From the refugee district, we have a newcomer to the program. She's only fourteen, but boy does she have some fire in her. Miss Rose Lalonde!

[The camera pans to Rose who is looking tepid as usual. Frgynyak comes up to her, with his microphone ready.] Pardon me, miss? But are you excited to be on the show?!!

[Rose's eyes look straight at the host then directly in the camera.] No.

That's great--!! Eh... what?

This performance is a mockery of performance arts and an absolute bedlam of ostentatious showmanship. With the exception of those of us that are actually working as part of our job, we aren't performers as we are circus show misfits parading whatever skills and abilities in a self-serving grab for fame, fortune and recognition. I find it disheartening that the people here are contented to waste what may be their last hours vying for a program-created position that has no real prestige outside of these televised sponsored programs and channel-syndicated performances. This is most especially true in light of the looming threat of station-wide catastrophe just outside our stations windows as we loom precariously close to the intergalactic spin cycle that is the black-hole. I also worry for the home audience, who are busying themselves watching this horse and pony show and not concerting their efforts into saving our collective asses.

...uh... huh... [Frgynyak visibly dabs sweat off what could only be guessed as his forehead, a low whisper of "Can we edit that out?" Returned with an equally swift and quiet, "No."] So, what are you going to do for us today?

I am going to play the violin.

Oh, well! Good luck!

Thank you.

[The camera pans out to the front of the stage where Rose comes out with her violin. Her lips curl a little as she begins to perform a mournful refrain... with the usual 9-digit number popping up on the bottom of the screen, reminding everybody to vote for her.]

13th Pesterlog // Reminisce [Accidental Video]

[The Camera opens and we find Rose preparing her new room! It's much nicer than the ones that she first started, and a few boxes are scattered around as she pins up a few posters like this one! and these sagely fellows. If one listens carefully, they may even hear her sing merrily.]

Pleasant anniversary of the end of my gestation~
Pleasant anniversary of the end of my gestation~
Pleasant anniversary, dear Rooose~
Pleasant anniversary of the end of my gestation~

[And so she continues to hum and sing that while opening up her various things, bug her?]

12th Pesterlog // Reentry [video]

[A young woman flips on the video feed. She has her back turned to the camera. Though she would never admit this, openly televising this feed took a lot more courage that she would dare admit...]

...I understand that I had been gone for a time and wish to address anyone concreted by my sudden disappearance. Though I really have no intention of going into the details on the matter, I wish to state for the record that that I am fine now. I just had some... work I had to take care of. I know that doesn't mean much to many of you, and that is fine. I am not here to fill you in on the details or to invite the opportunity for rumination or garner sympathy. You have your own problems to address. I am not nosy and poking around your affaris and would appreciate like treatment.

In the meantime, I know that there have been many more of you that I have not seen before. While I would like to extend what may regarded as customary salutations, I do not feel it sufficiently honest as I do not know you and recognize that you do not know me. So rather than attempt to sway you with soothing words of hope, or garner some sense of filial cordiality through petty small talk, allow me only to extend you this...

[she turns giving what might be a smile?] Hello, my name is Rose Lalonde.
*Grimdark* There is only this one way

11th Pesterlog // At The Price of Oblivion [Action // Text]

[Deep within the secluded meadows of Konami VI, obscured within the shadows of a thousand grimgoths and an folded in with the blackest wishes of the bloodthirsty throes, a young girl peers quietly at the small white moon. After a week of thrashing the denizens of the planet, only the most ravenous, craven and really really dumb dare approach the figure wrapped in the dark will of the horrorterrors beyond the furthest ring. Finally she had stop her gradual movement across the planet's surface. A silent grove of willows, remote and solitary.]

[She finished typing a few things on her guide as she gazed at the edge of the horizon of the planet, just within the cusp of where the land reached for the sky like a grubby child reaches for a favorite sucker that was forever out of reach. The faint traces of light from the Space Station appeared and she knew it was time. Placing the guide next to a rather unattractive stump, Rose summoned her courage and began flying up past the sky as the station cleared the moon. Her gaze only once turned to the station, already miles away from her location. She only spared it a single glance as she continued beyond the moon and further into space. That was the only thing she knew she could handle; anything more and she would risk not completing this task anyway.]

[As she made her way past the next few planets in this universe's solar system, the words she had typed moments before began to appear on the network. Each letter appearing slowly in sequence to how she typed them moments before.]

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((Canon update is a go! Rose is out! Aww yeah 8) ))
  • Current Music
    Black Rose / Green Sun by Malcolm Brown
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10th Pesterlog // Black Rose [Network Video/Accidental ???/Text Log]

[Do you like news? Here's some news brought to you by two aliens!]

Thank you Professor Batshitte for that wonderful... er... rant... on how the refugees caused the most recent alcohol crisis.

In other news, there was a new report of an unusual phenomenon this morning! Sightseers walked onto the planetary shuttle this morning caught the sight: a giant bubble filled with a multitude of colors!

[The camera turns to a view of the bubble. It is rather large and filled with what looked like a blurry swirl of panoramic scene within it. There are a few aliens pointing and gawking, some holding sticks as though they want to try to pop it.]

This unusual sight drifted from what seems like the furthest reaches of space and time. Scientists are speculating that it is perhaps a gigantic soap bubble from the giants moon people of Gigantica and is reflecting images of the entire galaxy. They advise not popping it, and that otherwise there will be absolutely no consequences to it's passing by whatsoever.

Reminds me of that time when I got caught in that plastic ball for a month.

Those were scary times.

In other, clearly unrelated news, a new type of weather anomaly was seen over the planet of Konami VI. Our man on the ground report that it looks like liquid sorrow is showering from the sky. They also report increased likelihood of headaches, insomnia, distressed feelings and suicidal inclination. Please do not operate heavy machinery while in this rainfall.

Doesn't that sound lovely? Next up: are news shows profiting on sex and violence? And our follow-up report: Women That Use Their Breasts as Weapons? We weigh in on this titillating story.


[Around Eleven AM...]

[Those receiving messages from Rose's guide may be surprised to see her screen suddenly and inexplicably blacked out. Suddenly a brief flash of black and red bursts onto the screen. And then a disquieting nothing.]


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((OOC: More information available here! All comments to Rose will have to be action, or else the veil of darkness will gobble it up. Come play with the batshit girl. :3))
  • Current Music
    Earthsea Borealis by Toby 'Radiation' Fox
  • Tags
Make my solar cycle

9th Pesterlog // What Dreams May... [Accidental Video/Text]

[Rose is lying asleep in one of the safe zones at Konami VI. The comforts are very meager, with a few spare munitions and threadbare blanket that seems like it's been used a hundred times too often. The young girl is resting her head on a med pack for a pillow, one of the few clean things in the entire bunker. Her sleep doesn't look very restful either. She is tossing and turning and her eyes are stuck in a closed furrow. Suddenly her eyes snap open and she looks around the room with disoriented eyes.

She shakes her head and rubs her forehead with a tired hand.]
That dream again... [If possible, her eyebrows narrow even more. She glances over at her guide, having recently learning that these embarrassing moments seem to be prime material for public display. Irritably she reaches over to the guide and flicks it off.]

[A text message follows a few minutes later.] Do you believe it is possible to change destiny?
Black magic woman

8th Pesterlog // [Now Fortified With Impurities!] [Accidental Video]

[So, lately you might notice something a bit... off about the salt... yes, that's right, they are now touched with the noxious essences of corruptible energies that no human should ever dare meddle with. How unfortunate, then , that a few bottles of the stuff may even be lining your local food court! But don't worry, the stuff is relatively benign, with only the major side effects being small lacerations to your immortal soul and/or blindness.

But where could this stuff be coming from?]

[Deep in the salt mines, Rose is looking pretty bad. The traces of her sunburn is still mottling her skin, only now there are flecks of salt caking everywhere. She's hot. She's tired. And she doesn't look like she has the focus or the patience to suffer fools. Raising a sinister-looking wand, she raised her hands at the layers of salt lining the mine, causing a huge explosion of dark magic. Unfortunately, that's the easy part. As she quickly begins to busily stacking cart after cart with magic-lined salt.]

Only nine more days...

7th Pesterlog // [Wounded skin; wounded pride] [Accidental Video]

[So hey everybody! Did you enjoy that all-month luau? Rose certainly didn't! After a full month of catching the sunset's rays, late-night boogying of the hips and short hours of getting sleep, this 13-year-old is looking like she's about ready to break somebody's face off.

It's a good thing that she hasn't realized the guide is on then, huh?

Right now she's in the process of slathering on aloe vera all over any skin that has been exposed to the sun. Which is to say, everywhere. Even though she's not saying anything, her agitation is practically screaming on her face in the highest vibrato: "working that job this month was really, really stupid." In a moment of pure frustration she take the bottle of soothing burn cream and pours it on top of her head. Well. That wasn't nearly as satisfying as she had hoped. Actually it's making one hell of a mess everywhere, huh. She sighs heavily and resigns herself to taking a shower soon. Which would mean she'd have to apply another bottle of aloe vera since all of her soothing relief will be washing down the drain. Ugh.

But that was only the brunt of the iceberg that had been bothering her. Looking on the mirror in front of her, she frowns]

Why couldn't I have become a pony too?

[It's a good thing nobody is seeing any of this. Especially that stupid idea with the aloe vera.]