deernet | video; un: charlie

[The video opens with a middle-aged man sitting at a bar and eating shelled peanuts out of a bowl, stopping to reach over and pass one of the nuts to the little rat sitting near him — not to be confused with his rat omen Danny, who is currently off doing god only knows what. There's a few scabbed over cuts on the man's particularly dusty face, like maybe he'd spent the afternoon crawling through some vents (spoilers: he was). Anyway...]

So, like. What's the deal with this place, anyway? Someone called it 'Lumenwood' the other day, and then someone called it 'Poofrock' or whatever, and there was someone complaining about something happening at 'Crenshaw'...? Then some other weirdo said Cassandra, which is a chick's name.

Is there actually an official name for this place or what?

Like — wheeeere the hell are we, exactly?

[Don't mind the line of rats suddenly running up to him, squeaking from where they've made a half-circle by his arm. He turns his attention to them suddenly, and talks to them instead of the video camera.]

Noooo way. It's not actually named Trench. No, dude, a trench is something you crawl through to collect possum pelts, nobody'd call a place Trench, that's lame as shit. [He stops, nods at the rats.] Okay, no — Leroy, seriously? I think I'd know what a real city name is. Especially a human one, thanks. If it were Trench, it'd be, like... Trenchadelphia. Or New Trenchy. Or, shit, maybe Trenchburgh?

[He snaps his fingers at one particular rat trying to sneak in a grab at his bowl.]

Heyheyhey, I see you eyeballing my peanuts, Susan! Back up! Back! It! Up! [He listens with disappointment intent to her small squeaks.] ... Ugh, old man still not doing too hot, huh? Fine, take some, but don't you go trading that shit for drugs; I know how high the currency is for shelled peanuts is down there. Tell Ricky I said hey, congrats on making it to four years — that's wild for a rat, man, he's gotta have some kind of deal with the devil.

[Sorry, what the fuck were we talking about again?]

... Oh!

And stop leaving your goddamn bear traps around the town, huh?! [He reaches down under the bar, picks up a particularly bloody bear trap, and shakes it at the screen.] I'm sick of stepping in them!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A view of an attic room, snow falling past one visible window, and a tall, muscular but graceful figure in a raven-like mask over a black balaclava that hides their head, a black long-sleeve tee shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. They're currently running a bit of oiled leather along the length of a sword blade.]

Traps aren't mine. Sounds like amateur hour antics.

[The voice is deep and rasping, as if the speaker is recuperating from a bad sore throat.]

Lots of districts make up this town. Lots of names for them.

[........................................ huh.

That's an interesting aesthetic. He stares for a moment, then carries on:]

Okay, well, that's harsh. I'm sure the guys are trying their best to catch marsupials and such.

... Do I know you?

Bear traps? Hideously crude. If they're trying to trap animals, they need something less damaging. Beasts, however, are another matter, though most are too strong for bear traps. Need something more durable. Whoever's using them is a poor excuse for a Hunter.

[Looking into the device now, blue eyes visible through the lenses of their mask.]

Not personally. We have a mutual friend. Albert Wesker: tall blond snob, carries himself like a Bond villain gone wrong. He's told me about you.

Call me Locrian.

Oh, cool. Hey L— uh. Locrayon.

[That's. Probably not how to pronounce it. But y'all should know how he functions by now.]

You hunt beasts, huh? Like, legit, big-ass beasts?

[A tiny hint of a Patient Sigh as they reply,]

Let's go with Lock, between you and me.

But to answer your question, yes, big honking Beasts. Also the odd Hunter who's losing themselves to Corruption and Beasthood. [A head tilt] You need my skills and strength?

Lock. Ooookay, got it! That's easier to handle, sure.

Right now, no, but sometimes we get some pretty rough dudes in here who act like shit.

And being kinda close to the ocean, sometimes I see some annoying monsters. But usually if I stay outta the way, they don't mess with me.

Ahh, you're down in Darcmouth, no? Rough crowd out there. Could come along to keep the peace, if you don't mind a masked personage adding some atmosphere to the joint.

Mmmr, hope none of those weird fish-zombie-robot contraptions bothered you. Those things were horrible.

Oh, nah! I caught one of them to try out on my hotplate. They weren't half bad, honestly.

You come down to keep an eye out, I'll give you a drink or two. Barter system, bro.

[The other angles their head, clearly staring, then stops and nods.]

He's mentioned your stamina. You must be made of steel to eat one of those and live.

[They lift the sword, sighting along the blade before sliding it into a leather sheath reinforced with steel.]

Consider me the quiet type keeping the peace but otherwise keeping out of the way.

video; un: charlie

[Video][UN:<Blocked>]

[Video]

Re: [Video]

[Video]

Re: [Video]

[Video]

Re: [Video]

[Video]

Re: [Video]