mumbled_truth: (pic#1798882)
VOICEMAIL



Hello.

Um... Th-this is Todd. If... if you leave me a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you.



Feel free to use this post for any other kind of in-character contact; voicemail message applicable only if appropriate.



[ previous contact post ]
mumbled_truth: (Pounds my brain)
The entries prior to this one have been imported from [livejournal.com profile] mumbled_truth, in play at [livejournal.com profile] polychromatic at LiveJournal.

Due to recent changes made by LiveJournal, the game has migrated to [community profile] poly_chromatic here at DreamWidth. The continuity and character history established in these prior entries still applies as the game continues in its new location.


Rae
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[Uh-oh! Todd's out on his own today, braving the curse to make his way to the book store. It's a brave endeavor for someone as shy as Todd still can be, but he'd rather not stay home all day.

So, he's on his way, walking carefully through the streets - he's trying to avoid anything overhanging the sidewalk where it might grow, but he knows that can only get him so far. He's managed this one before, though, and he knows he'll get through it again.]


[ooc: Anyone feel free to hit him up on his journey :D Tags will be slow, I need to go watch Once Upon a Time and Dexter. But, as always, I am the world's biggest fan of backtagging.]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
If, um-- if anyone happens to be near the library who wouldn't mind walking to building ten...

[Eyes open, Todd. Eyes open, eyes open, eyes open...]

Let me know? I'm just... not sure I can make it alone.
mumbled_truth: (Beat it)
So... I turned twenty earlier this month. Sort of. I mean... it was my birthday, and-- well, nothing ever adds up quite right, but... we'll say I turned twenty. Even if it still feels strange to say that.

[He pauses, thinking...]

It was the third birthday I've had here... so in a few months, I'll have been here three years. I know a lot of people wouldn't be happy about that-- about being stuck in the City that long, but... I know I'd rather be here than back home, off at some university. You know, I'm... I'm not even sure what I'd be studying.

Not anything I wanted to, I'm sure.
mumbled_truth: (Default)
Um --

[Pause -- he probably should have stopped and thought before he started his post about exactly what needs to be said and how.]

So... if you're, uh... affected by all this...

[He clears his throat softly, trying to get his words together, but it all really boils down to just one question.]

What-- what are we supposed to do?
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[The first bits of audio that the device transmits is the rustling of the device in Todd's hand, against his coat, and the opening of a door as he tries to pull himself away from a few girls and duck into the library. Their chatter is not quite audible in the background, though the voices are certainly female.]

--n-no, I'm sorry, I don't... Ethan who?

[And as he steps through the door...]

I'm not-- no, I think you have the wrong-- wrong person... I'm sorry.

[And he ducks in, the door audibly shutting behind him. He glances down at the device in his hand, realizing it's been recording.]

So, um... I guess it's one of those days again.

[And he turns it off.]


[ooc: HI GUYS as per the usual: despite my longstanding desire to make an Ethan Hawke joke, don't tell him he's fictional. No doubles of Todd or Neil. Face duplicates are always okay. Annnnnd apologies in advance, my tags will be slow as I'm going out today.]
mumbled_truth: (curse ║ purple)
... so, uh... I guess the important thing to remember today is that it could be much, much worse. I mean-- curses can be awful. People can be hurt, or killed, and... well, this one is... it's really just absurd.

So... I think... that's what we should all keep in mind. Especially-- um. Especially when your roommate won't stop laughing at you. You know... the roommate that's supposed to be your best friend.
mumbled_truth: (Default)
• Attention Citizens •

I, Todd Anderson, have just completed final revisions on the script for my first play, which will be staged by Neil Perry. Further details regarding the production will be released shortly.
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[Todd's out and about, picking up just a few essentials from the store. The device, in his pocket, activates at the register.]

Yes, that's everything.
Oh-- and did you scan the milk?
I think you missed it.

[There's the beep of a scanner - then a woman's voice, less audible than his, reads off the total. You can hear the jingling of multicolored money, concluded with her pleasantry as she ends the transaction.]

Oh, thank you, and I
Hope you have a nice day, too.
Wh-- is this thing on?

[And the device, now discovered, is turned off.]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[Todd is out in the City today, just off his shift at the library and on his way to the bookstore to meet up with Neil. He's moving quickly, and trying not to interact with too many people. You could say he's outright avoiding them, granting anyone he walks past on the sidewalk the largest buffer of personal space he can manage. Clearly he's spent enough time violating his own sense of boundaries today.

As he intently focuses on making it an uneventful walk, he reaches the first corner on his route. One intersection reached, one block cleared. As a lovely young lady that steps up alongside him at the curb, he reaches over, hand lightly on her jawline, and cranes into an impressively passionate kiss to mark this accomplishment. Upon satisfaction of the curse, they both pull back - and Todd is bright red and far more flustered than the girl.]


Ohh-- oh, God, I'm sorry, I-- I'm so sorry, I was just... I was focused on making it each block without-- and... and then I did, and-- I just-- I would never... I mean. Oh my God, I am so sorry.

[She just laughs it off, saying it's happened plenty of times today, no big deal, and goes on her way. Todd sighs deeply, then returns to making his way towards the bookstore, trying to focus a bit less intently on making it there without incident. That's... totally a thing he can do.]


[ooc: For the Network, you just get to hear the sound effects and Todd stammering and stuttering his way through the response XD]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
--not like I can help it. I don't like to post anything on the Network very much to begin with, but certainly not while I can't even control what I wind up saying. And now it's already recording-- um, hello.

I'm very sorry, everyone, I really don't have anything important to say or announcements or news or anything like that-- I mean, I don't even really want to be posting to begin with. Not that I don't like to talk to people-- I mean, I don't really like to talk a lot, I'm sure there are any number of people who can tell you that, but I don't mind having conversations with friends or with people who want to be friendly. Besides, really, it's not as if I have anything against other people, I just don't really think I have anything worthwhile to say to most of them, and I doubt that most people really want to talk to me anyway, since I'm not really very interesting.

But now I just can't stop talking at all, and I wish that I could, because I keep blurting out every little thing that pops in to my head and like I said, I don't even want to be on the Network but there's something about this curse where it just feels like it's making me go on to the Network and go on and on and I'm just trying to focus and not think of anything-- anything that... that I wouldn't want to say to everyone. So all I can do is think and talk about this curse and wonder if I've spoken enough that I can manage to turn off this device yet and stop this post from being any more ridic--

[click. success.]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
I... well, I never really know what to say when these days come around - really, I have even less of an idea, after everything that's been going on here lately. But... well, in case anyone wanted to say hi, I did want to come on the network and let you know that I'm here.

So, if anyone is out there... well, that's it, really.


[ooc: Fourth wall GO. Don't tell him he's fictional, no duplicates, anything else is golden. AND I LOVE BACKDATING. <3]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
I have a brother - an older brother, named Jeffrey. He's... well, he's smart. Incredibly smart, really, and driven. Sociable. Charming. Popular.

[He pauses, then adopts a tone that fondly imitates an absent friend, even if only one other person in the City will know it... to anyone else, it just sounds like he's sarcastically emphasizing the grandness of Jeffrey's achievements, though with fondness and humor.]

Valedictorian. National merit scholar.

[Back to normal now.]

He's everything that our parents could have ever wanted in a son, and I would never blame him for it, it's... well, our parents just put all of their hopes and dreams in him, and set their expectations by his accomplishments. Every time he succeeds at something, he raises the bar just a little bit more.

He's the standard to live up to.


[ooc: At work, leaving in a bit! Tags may be delayed and spotty. UGH I am also SO VERY SORRY for anything I dropped, life got hectic... again ;;]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[One romantic young poet is hard at work, as can be evidenced by the sound of his writing scratching away on paper. He quietly speaks to himself as he works.]

A feeling as if-- in flight? Soaring, free? Of bursting, of-- of... joy beyond measure. But no, no word is adequate. No phrase not overused, not worn out and thinned until its meaning has been lost.

[There's more scratching now, the inelegant editing process of a writer whose process demands the physical obliteration of any turns of phrase he finds inadequate. Now he addresses the Network.]

Foolish, isn't it? That we so frequently attempt to quantify, explain, or represent the feeling of love... No phrase has yet proven adequate, no painting impassioned enough, no song quite potent enough, to capture the feeling. A pure, raw feeling which grips you at your core, against which you are powerless. That which can move us to words we did not know we could speak, actions we did not know we were capable of, depths of emotion we did not know we could experience...

There are no words for love; there is only the experience, and it cannot be replicated nor simulated. Love is...

It is love, and though it has been tossed about, used and misused, applied without discretion to that which pales in comparison to its truest form, weakened and watered down through such linguistic carelessness, there is no other word. Nor will there ever be.

[With a sigh, he turns off the device.]
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[The video starts in much better quality than you'd typically see from a network device, which probably doesn't come as a surprise to anyone who's been on the network today. Some unseen (and unheard) documentarian has got Todd seated in a chair, where he is looking extremely uncomfortable.]

I-- I just don't understand why... I mean, why me?

[He pauses, as they ask something.]

Well, I know the City is interesting, it's just-- um... I don't see why-- I mean... out of everyone here...

[Again he pauses, glancing off to one side of the camera.]

Um-- well, yes, I do like it here...

[Just a beat this time.]

Oh... just-- just a bit over two years.

[He tilts his head, glancing off again as he falls silent a few moments.]

It was hard-- uh... it still is, sometimes. I mean... things are so different, a-and... not just the technology, but-- well, the way people behave and the culture.

[A shorter pause.]

No-- no, I don't... I don't think it's bad. Just different.

[And now there are another couple of moments, though during this break, Todd's eyes widen drastically and his jaw hangs open. He looks completely shocked, and manages his most clearly enunciated response yet;]

What? Who told you that?
mumbled_truth: (Default)
Cry not that I have gone,
Nor that my time is done.
For as there must be dawn,
So too must set the sun.

All that starts must conclude,
The present will soon be past.
So do not mourn nor brood,
But live each day as your last.


Todd Anderson
mumbled_truth: (Default)
[voice]

Um-- in case anyone we know is concerned, I just wanted to let you all know that Neil and I are staying at the warehouse, with Rosella. It's... well, a lot safer than our apartment is, and-- I don't know, it's sort of comforting to have more people around with all of this going on.

It seems like it's a good thing we managed to come yesterday, too... it sounds like things are getting worse out there. I, uh-- I don't know if there's really much that I can do, but... if anyone has any ideas on how to fix this and needs people to help, I'll do whatever I can. I mean, if there's anything I can do. I'm not anything special... I don't have any powers, I'm not strong or even exceptionally smart, but... the City is my home. I don't want to see it destroyed. I don't even want to leave. Right now I'm just trying to stay safe and stay out of the way, but if there's something more I can do... I will.

We helped patch the barrier once before-- that was with the deities, and... well, they've been pretty quiet during all this, but... still. There has to be something that we can do.

[later that evening... action @ the warehouse]

[One of the best ways Todd has to unwind is to write. That shouldn't be surprising to anyone who knows him, of course. It's not that it's a form of escapism, though; it's more a way to move beyond dwelling on his current situation and move his mind into a different type of reasoning, one that's more abstract and subjective. It lets him approach one thing from a multitude of perspectives and connect things in ways he wouldn't have thought of otherwise. It's an exercise which makes working through all the conflicting, disorganized streams of thought in his mind seem a bit less impossible.

Of course, this is a bit larger than most of the situations he's approached this way. Right now, all he seems to get is doom and gloom, circular verses that don't work through anything but rather plant themselves firmly in a rut. If anything, it's making it worse.

Still, he doesn't what else to do with himself right now. So he sits on the bed in the room he and Neil have been put up in, in the warehouse, and he writes, and all of his frustrations and fears tumble out onto the paper in a frantic, scrawled jumble of words.]


[ooc: Backtag warning! I'm crashing soon and prob. won't be back until after work tomorrow (though I may sneak a few tags if it's a lighter day >>;). But, I will be backtagging on both this and Wilson's entry from yesterday. <3]

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Todd Anderson

January 2012

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