Tommy Shepard (
doubled_speed) wrote in
revivalproject2021-02-12 04:22 pm
Network Video
[Enjoy the screen coming alive with Tommy, local fast person. The world beyond him is a blur of sparkles. With the way his hair is going in the wind, he clearly was running somewhere.]
Okay, two things on the current state of the world.
I've repeated my test to try and and get to the new blinking light. Like Cayde said, someone's fucking with us. It doesn't matter how long or how fast I run at the thing. It's always the same distance away. Which, you know, wouldn't be so bad if it was reality warping, or like world maps in old school video games where you're actually just circling the world in an impossible loop or something.
No, the amount of distance you walk toward the thing is how far you need to come back. So at the moment, I'd seriously discourage expeditions, guys, gals, and all other designations. If that thing is just as far away when I've gone fifty miles, it's not something we can get to by traditional means.
[The colors behind him blurring on the screen now take on a decidedly pink tinge. Yes! He's getting into a fucking zone of hearts.]
In other news. No. I am NOT responsible for the glitter. But FUCK it makes me look amazing I bet. If you see a cloud of sparkles in the distance, that's me. Or is about to be me by you. Can any of you communications people set up, like, a network thing? That pings my phone off yours, like a GPS? So I don't accidentally go blazing past someone and leave them covered in a cloud of my sparkling dust?
Not that some of you wouldn't look amazing in rainbows and hearts and stars. You know, in my flawless opinion.
Okay, two things on the current state of the world.
I've repeated my test to try and and get to the new blinking light. Like Cayde said, someone's fucking with us. It doesn't matter how long or how fast I run at the thing. It's always the same distance away. Which, you know, wouldn't be so bad if it was reality warping, or like world maps in old school video games where you're actually just circling the world in an impossible loop or something.
No, the amount of distance you walk toward the thing is how far you need to come back. So at the moment, I'd seriously discourage expeditions, guys, gals, and all other designations. If that thing is just as far away when I've gone fifty miles, it's not something we can get to by traditional means.
[The colors behind him blurring on the screen now take on a decidedly pink tinge. Yes! He's getting into a fucking zone of hearts.]
In other news. No. I am NOT responsible for the glitter. But FUCK it makes me look amazing I bet. If you see a cloud of sparkles in the distance, that's me. Or is about to be me by you. Can any of you communications people set up, like, a network thing? That pings my phone off yours, like a GPS? So I don't accidentally go blazing past someone and leave them covered in a cloud of my sparkling dust?
Not that some of you wouldn't look amazing in rainbows and hearts and stars. You know, in my flawless opinion.

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...so you were a ginger?
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[Tommy pours himself a drink. Should just do that.]
My mom is a magic user, who warps reality a little, and a synthezoid. My mom sorta used magic and the fragments of a demon's soul to make us, without knowing about the latter part. A dark magic user thought we were part of his missing soul and took us and one really creepy situation later, we were dead. Our souls retroreincarnated though. Born again, but before we were ever born. Two different families.
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[Kyle listens, and okay, his eyebrows raise the more Tommy explains, but he doesn't DISbelieve him. Mostly it's just a lot to try and make sense of.]
So. Do your families know?
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The Kaplan's, Billy's family, knows. The Shepherds can die in a fire for all I care or they care. Our original, soul-family knows entirely.
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But you do have a family now, at least.
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I do. A good one. Found and otherwise.
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And I can't fucking picture you with auburn hair.
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Well, first of all, imagine it with curls. Apparently we had curls.
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[He pulls his hat off, revealing way, way too many deep red curls.]
So at least you got off lucky THERE.
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[Tommy reaches out, fingers teasing his hair.]
Damn, that looks good. You're so lucky. My hair gets people looking at me weird, or people who have a fetish for my uncle or grandfather.
[Lucky? Tommy laughs.]
It's not good, Kyle. I get problems from my hair.
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Are you kidding?! It's like if Ronald McDonald had a Jewfro. I have a closet full of hats back home just to hide it.
But it looks so cool. And it's all silky. Why would anybody give you shit about it?
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Why hide it? It's hot.
[Silky. Tommy laughs.]
I promise you, my hair is hella rough. And they do it because racism.
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I'm sorry, WHAT?! Dude. Don't fuck with me.
You're fucking kidding, do they not have bleach on your earth?
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[Bleach yellows while it 'whitens'. Tommy's as white as snow. No roots ever show. Curtains match the carpets and whatever. It's natural. And that's weird without him being an albino.]
Like I said, uncle and grandfather. They're famous mutants.
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Bullshit, I've seen girls at school with white hair. Okay, maybe they have dark roots but still.
Ah, shit, so there's a public perception. Fuck. Well. I'm sorry. Where I'm from people would just think you're a model or something.
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[Tommy tweaks a curl and grins.]
You know how much less 'fucked because of winds' my hair would get if I had curls like yours? That's got more staying power than hair spray. Not that I'm not hot already, but I still think it's pretty awesome.
[Wait, what?]
Model?
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I assure you all that would happen is that you'd wind up with one huge knot instead of something you might be able to comb out.
Yeah, dude. Models are all like... you know, they can have unusual hair it adds to the appeal
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[Who said he'd comb it out. Tommy laughs, though, it's probably a good point.]
I don't think my hair is my appeal quite like my eyes and body.
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Well, no, it's the whole package of stupidly attractive. I'm just saying it wouldn't make people hate you where I'm from.
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I knew you thought I was hot.
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Nah. Attractiveness is subjective.
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That's what people say to avoid admitting they think someone is hot.
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Jesus. [He jams his hat back on.]
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