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sirenspull_logs2013-01-20 09:07 pm
thepull_mods) wrote in sirenspull_logs2013-01-20 09:07 pm
Entry tags:
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Who: The "Strange Homeless Man" and YOU.
When: January 20th through January 27th. An hour before sirens and onward.
Where: Sectors 9 & 10, primarily, but other places as well.
Summary: The Ghost who dispatched SERO's agents has an agenda all his own. Tag yourselves in with the time and location.
Warnings: TBA
This rotting city.
If there was ever a true indication of the character of Siren's Port, it was that singular hour before the Darkness eroded the streets. That which was once fear became complacency, and only the brave and foolish ventured into deepest abyss.
Of course, he is neither. A dead man has no use for fear, and nothing left in this monolith of corruption and chaos holds any appeal to him whatsoever.
SERO, for all its vaunted claims of knowledge and scientific inquiry, never dedicated itself to the pursuit of truth alone. Their experiment upon the man he once was did little but create a monster -- a creature that could not be controlled.
By all accounts, he should seek vengeance for what they did. They pulled the plug, and in so doing, created himself -- a being of little substance. Neither living nor dead, he has wandered this city ever since.
But such is the way of things. They will answer for their folly, along with rest of the people here.
A worn coat flapping around his ankles, his hands and face covered by soiled bandages, the Ghost Writer stands upon a rooftop, overlooking the city.
The truth will soon be known.
When: January 20th through January 27th. An hour before sirens and onward.
Where: Sectors 9 & 10, primarily, but other places as well.
Summary: The Ghost who dispatched SERO's agents has an agenda all his own. Tag yourselves in with the time and location.
Warnings: TBA
This rotting city.
If there was ever a true indication of the character of Siren's Port, it was that singular hour before the Darkness eroded the streets. That which was once fear became complacency, and only the brave and foolish ventured into deepest abyss.
Of course, he is neither. A dead man has no use for fear, and nothing left in this monolith of corruption and chaos holds any appeal to him whatsoever.
SERO, for all its vaunted claims of knowledge and scientific inquiry, never dedicated itself to the pursuit of truth alone. Their experiment upon the man he once was did little but create a monster -- a creature that could not be controlled.
By all accounts, he should seek vengeance for what they did. They pulled the plug, and in so doing, created himself -- a being of little substance. Neither living nor dead, he has wandered this city ever since.
But such is the way of things. They will answer for their folly, along with rest of the people here.
A worn coat flapping around his ankles, his hands and face covered by soiled bandages, the Ghost Writer stands upon a rooftop, overlooking the city.
The truth will soon be known.