control_freak: (Default)
[personal profile] control_freak
CHANNEL
FREQUENCY: 206.18999
DESCRIPTION: If Foster hasn't lost his walkie-talkie, he'll answer you! If he has........ uh. Well. It wouldn't be the first time.

✉MAIL BOX
LOCATION: There's no mailbox???
DESCRIPTION: Foster never checks his mail, assumes he won't get any, and is automatically unhappy to receive any on the rare occasion such a thing might actually happen. But you're welcome to leave it on his doorstep. Maybe his roommate will get it.

Post Legs

Date: 2017-01-11 01:33 am (UTC)
waitingforplayer2: (10. SHSL GAMER)
From: [personal profile] waitingforplayer2
[ Chiaki feels like she has more energy than ever.

It's probably the legs. Hopping around takes more energy than simply walking, and to compensate, she's been eating a lot more. Drinking more coffee and soda, too. That seems to jazz her up enough to get the height she needs for a decent spring.

But that also makes her restless fingers more restless. Twiddling her thumbs while manning the Gamer's Circle isn't enough anymore. She really can't take it.

So finally, after a long time of deliberating, she's knocking on Foster's trailer door. ]

Date: 2017-01-11 01:43 am (UTC)
waitingforplayer2: (53. DETERMINATION)
From: [personal profile] waitingforplayer2
Mm.

[ She nods. Stands her ground, because...

If she lets him do this to her, then he'll do it to anyone else. ]


I'm here for my gaming console, please.

Date: 2017-01-11 01:58 am (UTC)
waitingforplayer2: (19. TAYLOR SWIFTED)
From: [personal profile] waitingforplayer2
[ She frowns. ]

You said it was a waste. I think you're wrong. I thought we could talk about that.

[ Conversation options:

> Keep the conversation going. Look for a way in. ]

Date: 2017-01-11 02:33 am (UTC)
waitingforplayer2: (35. hinata-kun what is your damage)
From: [personal profile] waitingforplayer2
[ He's not closing the door, either. ]

I don't want to do that, either. Everybody knows a little bit, right? You can't get all your quests or exposition from one NPC.

[ That... made sense in her head. ]

Did you do it for me?

Date: 2017-01-11 03:07 am (UTC)
waitingforplayer2: (03. engage)
From: [personal profile] waitingforplayer2
Why?

[ Still standing her ground. Not stepping forward, or back. (It's too hard to do that with these big dumb awkward rabbit feet anyway. ]

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October 9th; phone call

Date: 2017-07-02 10:55 pm (UTC)
dontpokethat: and i dont have time for answers either (i dont have time for these questions)
From: [personal profile] dontpokethat
[For the past few days, there's been basically no word from Ginko - which isn't entirely new, since he does have a bad habit of forgetting to call people sometimes, but it doesn't usually stretch on for so long.

When he does call, he sounds kind of strained and nervous, and Foster may be able to pick up on the rumble of road noise in the background.]


Hey, Foster, uh-- where are you?

Date: 2017-07-04 03:03 am (UTC)
dontpokethat: because i have something to prove (no i didnt drop all this on the floor)
From: [personal profile] dontpokethat
I'm in my car, I'm on the way to the Sanctuary-- I'm sorry I didn't call or anything, I... things went wrong.

[That's kind of an understatement but anyway.]

Date: 2017-07-06 07:07 pm (UTC)
dontpokethat: everything gets worse forever (hey kids i know youre struggling now)
From: [personal profile] dontpokethat
Why not?

[He's not pulling over, though that might not be clear over the phone.]

Date: 2017-07-07 01:45 am (UTC)
dontpokethat: sorry about the huge amount of damage and all the fires (to everyone who said)
From: [personal profile] dontpokethat
'Course I've noticed. If this crap weren't going on I wouldn't need to go there to begin with.

[Under normal circumstances, Ginko might consider Foster's argument. Maybe.

...Or he might not. But in this case, he definitely won't. If anything, the danger of the Sanctuary is just a reminder of how much he needs to make sure Steven gets out of there if he hasn't already.]


Look, with any luck I'll be in and out, alright?

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post-portland log

Date: 2017-08-18 05:23 pm (UTC)
idiotwizard: (ready to slice the pie)
From: [personal profile] idiotwizard
Taako has no idea how long it's been since the ritual; days, maybe. He's kept himself confined almost entirely to his bed, due largely to just how sore and exhausted the whole ritual mess left him. Though Steven, Zecora, and some fae successfully mended the bone and any torn muscle or tendons surrounding it, he's still sore and wrung out.

He's spent most of this time resting, spaced out, but a lot of his waking time has had him thinking over his and Foster's plans, and Foster in general-- what he'd learned about him during their time in Portland.

I'll remember that my brain's rotting.

It makes him feel sick to think about very much, the idea of that-- it's just plain gross, and creepy, to boot. And the idea that something like that is happening to you could definitely make a person hard to deal with. In Portland, Foster was different, like... clearer-headed, and he can't help but wonder if the Foster he talked to there is how Foster would be if his brain weren't fucking eating itself.

It's late at night when he finally makes himself stretch down to retrieve his radio from beside his bed, wincing at the fact that every movement still sends faint waves of ache over his core. He tunes it to Foster's personal wavelength, and sighs as he hits the button, speaking into it.

"Hey, Foster. You there?"

Date: 2017-08-18 10:30 pm (UTC)
idiotwizard: (listen)
From: [personal profile] idiotwizard
Yeah, that's basically the response he expected. But, hey, he answered, which means speaking to Taako has to mean at least something to him, right?

He's quiet for a moment before he speaks again; his tone is hushed and serious, focused, a rarity.

"How are you holding up?" He can pretty much imagine what this answer will be before he even asks the question, but asking seems like something he should do anyway.

Date: 2017-08-19 12:40 am (UTC)
idiotwizard: (natural beauty)
From: [personal profile] idiotwizard
Taako cringes at the sound of that laughter, the hollow pain in Foster's voice.

"... yeah, okay, I mean... ask a stupid question and all that. Uh. Listen, I'm bedridden right now because a fuckin' fae crushed my ribcage like a soda can, so I'm not able to do a whole lot else but just talk anyway, right?" He sighs, the gesture painful, a dull ache reminding him to be careful; his breath catches in his chest, and he lets it out even more slowly, through his teeth. "Besides, like... we were a team once, you know? Shit didn't work out, but we were still a team once, and you got pretty seriously wrecked, so I thought I'd check in and see how you're doing."

Date: 2017-08-19 12:44 am (UTC)
idiotwizard: (that's okay)
From: [personal profile] idiotwizard
"Horseshit," comes Taako's immediate response, his tone sharper for just a beat. "You were literally telling an angel to kill you, it doesn't take a fuckin' therapist to be able to tell we're pretty far from okay here."

Foster can't honestly think he wouldn't immediately see through that. Taako of all people knows too much to ever believe it when Foster claims to be "okay," and Foster knows that--hell, he got an enraged phone call on that very subject only about a week ago now. Portland was another world, but what happened there was real, and the consequences still linger.

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control_freak: (Default)
Foster Van Denend

December 2016

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