proudambassador | Entries tagged with complaining again

The explosions must be stopped. My boots, they are ruined. I do not know what it was that exploded, but now they are scuffed to the point where polishing, it will do nothing. Is there nothing that can stop these things?

[About fifteen minutes later he writes again.]

Barbed wire. It is not good for coats, no. I think I am starting to get angry. Is there a seamstress here who can fix a coat, or is this also lost?

[Another ten minutes pass.]

Shooting. They are shooting! The bullets are not killing but why would they even shoot me? I am bruised and this is utterly indecent! All I wanted was food! Food! Everyone must eat, even aliens, no? Maybe not the droids. Do droids eat? Maybe little metal things, scraps around the lower place, hm? I will get dinner, and I will not die trying because that is the most ridiculous way to go and I refuse to die in a ridiculous fashion. [A short pause.] Again. Stupid Apostle. Stupid whatever god he prayed to. Stupid Tree, stupid bullets, stupid bomb!

[It’s ten minutes later that he writes the final bit.]

I give up. The dirt, it has my food. I will go, and I will starve, on my little couch in my little house.

This gold monstrosity, this, it is not a cape.

It is a death trap.

Six times I have tripped! SIX! And my work, it is over the bridges! I begin to think the Sphere wishes for me to fall to my death because of a cape! Who even wears a cape, hm? A cape, it has no use. It has no function. Except to get under my feet.

I suppose I should be glad my house, it was still here, when I got out of the infernal case. And I suppose I should be glad that I have no pets, because they would have starved.

But mostly, I am glad that I was not missed. This, it means that when you all leave, because you will, or you all are stuck in sand, which you will, or when you are killed, I do not have to miss you, hm? A great burden, that takes off. Yes.

So. Not that anyone cares, nor do I expect them to, but I am no longer stuck. Housekeeping, do be sure to clean up the sand, yes? I would like to have my little house tidy.

Oh yes. Of course. First, my head is flooded with dreams that are not my own, and now, now I cannot even get out of the elevator. I am stuck. But of course, no one will help, because no one can, not when the elevator is rude like this, no.

I hardly know if it is good or bad that I am not trapped alone. There is a fiery-headed man, a striped-hair boy, and a brown-haired girl. They are likely human. Their hair is not in crests.

Make a wish. For three days, this paper, I have stared at it. What possible wish that one would write would come true? It is that damnable question all over again. What do you want? Maybe, maybe, there is more that is wanted than one can say! Did whomever asked that question ever thing about that?

This paper, it is a mockery. Make a wish. Pah. Wishes are futile anyway. This, it is not worth the paper it is written on.

[[ooc: I moved this back since I'd failed to do it when I planned, but couldn't let him miss this.]]

[The writing is messy, as the writer is being jostled quite a bit. It probably wouldn't be recognizable if the sentence structure wasn't so distinct.]

This, it is ridiculous! There have been ridiculous things before, but this, it is the most! My chair will not stop! I cannot sit without them taking off and playing music of all things!

I need a gun. To SHOOT MY CHAIRS. EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM. If they are shot, they cannot run, hm? Or must I leash them now?

This is the most undignified, ludicrous, utterly stupid thing that has ever happened in this Sphere.

I think I begin to hate my life.

[[ooc: Musical chairs event. Ambassador is currently a hostage of one of his sturdier table chairs. Feel free to see/laugh/mock/be in the path.]]

[A heavy sigh is the first thing that’s heard before Ambassador’s voice speaks.]
Vir. How many gods are there in our pantheon? I have lost count, since the last emperor was elevated to godhood.

[A much younger male voice answers him. It’s nervous and anxious and sounds a little flustered.] 48. No, no, 49. 50, if you count Zuug, but, you know, I never thought you should—

[Ambassador interrupts him.] All right. Let us say 50.

[Vir again.] 50.

[There’s a wry, sarcastic edge to Ambassador’s voice.] Now. Out of that 50. How many gods do you think I must have offended to have ended up with ---‘s teeth buried so deeply in my throat that I can barely breathe?

[A beat.] All of them?

Sounds right. [Ambassador sounded tired.] And now I have to go back to the Council and explain to them that in the interest of peace the Centauri government will agree to “give” Quadrant 37 to the ---. [He sighed.] I think I will stick my head in the station’s fusion reactor. It would be quicker. And I suspect, after a while, I might even come to enjoy it!

[Vir sounded very unsure.] Ambassador, why—

[Ambassador ignored the attempted interruption.] But this, this. This, this is like being… nibbled to death by, uh… [He makes an annoyed noise.] What are those Earth creatures called? Feathers. Long bill. Webbed feet. Go quack.

[There’s a pause, and then Vir sounded triumphant.] Cats!

Cats. [Ambassador sounded disgusted.] I’m being nibbled to death by cats.

I am stuck in an elevator with a lunatic with a sword, grinning like only an idiot can. Someone, anyone, get me out of here. I do not care who. Even Grift, with his smirky face, gloating, I would take.

And now, he is laughing at me. Oh joy. Joy of all joys. This place, I hate it. I would even take stairs if we had them!

Perhaps it would be more bearable if he were not reading this and grinning more, hm?

[[ooc: Both Ambassador and Rukongai will be replying to this for a time before they wind up stuck on the fourth floor. This entry marks where I'm no longer looking at the f-list. If there's a non-invasion post you'd like me to see, please link me. :D Have fun!]]

At first, after a conversation, I was convinced this was merely indifference. We are changed into things, but it is not because we are liked or hated.

I am going to say something that I will likely never say again. Read close.

I was wrong.

It hates us. All of us.

What I have been DRESSED in is ludicrous! It is not dressing in any sense of the word! And the makeup! AND MY HAIR!

The week off, I need. The month off, if we are not out of these things before then. My house, I am not leaving it.

[[ooc: Ambassador is wearing this, as Klaus Nomi.]]

Current Mood: frustrated

I do not suppose there are any beds that are not hard as a rock down here? I have tried one in nearly every cabin, and they are all most uncomfortable. It would be better to sleep on the ground! When we were banished out of the tree last time, the accommodations, they were much better. I am not impressed. This place, it has always been poorly managed, but now, I see that it is even worse than I thought.

Next time we are driven from our little homes and what little lives we have, I would like more comfortable accommodations. Do note this, whomever manages these sort of things, hm?

Current Mood: aggravated

This is ludicrous.

I will not be shoved into a room full of people and expected to share a tiny room. No.

I will work. Anything, to get out of this room.

Except I will not work with animals. They are filthy creatures, and I do not like getting dirty. Nor will I clean. I am not the cleaning type, no.

I am also not built for combat. It is not my thing, I think is said. Running, exertion, wastes. All of them.

I know nothing of medicine. That would be a bad fit, yes.

There should be things left? With good housing. I will have my own room. One way or another.

[There's a pause in the writing.]

What, exactly, is left?

[The writing is full of flourishes and swirls, making it look in some places elegant and in some overdone and ridiculous.]

So I will write on this and then people will write back and we will all be good friends, no? Somehow, I do not think that is the way the universe works.

We are all in a tree. We are tree people. This is stupid. But, if there is a place with wine, then I will not mind the stupid so much, hm? And we are not in a tree right now, but we are. I do not like paradoxes.

So. My friends. My soon-to-be dear, good friends. I am calling myself Ambassador. It is a stupid name, but I have never named myself before. There is a first time for everything, I believe it is said. So let us have a drink to firsts, and write on paper that writes back.