28 November 2012 @ 08:14 am
✖ anxiety attack: 015 ✖ Murderhaus ✖  
[A: Phone]

[The laughter on the phone is a desperate sounding noise, the kind of laugh that someone has when hope has been crushed so completely all they can do is laugh at themselves and how stupid they were to think that escape was possible.]

So that's it, then. We're all just a copied file in someone else's game simulator. It's funny, almost ironic in some ways, but that's it then. There's no way out, we'll die here, and that's...

[The laughter almost sounds like Mika's crying, but she isn't. Not yet.]

Captain Rogers, looks like I can't go back with you after all. Thanks for the offer, it...it really meant a lot to me that you asked at all.

I'm sorry.

[She's choking up, there's so much she wanted to say, so many people she had something important to tell, but she's struggling just to hold the phone to her ear.]

I'm so sorry everyone. I can't--I can't hold her off anymore. I'm so, so sorry.


[B. 339 Brady Lane]

[Mika's struggling to stop it, but she's not strong enough to stop the way her body's been reprogrammed without her consent. Her lead pipe's in her hand, and a sheathed carving knife is tucked into her belt. She hunts down scents faster than a bloodhound, but the look on her face is nothing short of terrified.]

Quinn, Raz, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. RUN! Oh my God I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry! Please, run!

[C. The Streets]

[She's walking down the center of the street, her pipe held in an unwavering grip even though her teeth are clenched and her tears have left filthy smudges on her cheeks. Her clothes are already stained, either from the blood of other captives or from drones, or even herself.

But Mika is hunting and she won't be allowed to stop until everyone else is dead. Or Johnson gets bored of her latest experiment.
18 September 2012 @ 09:57 am
✖ anxiety attack: 014 ✖  
[Action: 339 Brady Lane]

[As everything's simmered down for the moment, Mika's going back to work to get some supplies that people need. Only there's a rather large box on the doorstep, leaving Mika clutching the doorknob tightly as she stares at the package.

What the hell did they pack in there this time?

Even worse when she knows it's got her name on it.

Closing the door behind her in case it's something that could escape into the house, she cuts the box open right there on the porch. Only to stare at its contents. Clothes? But...these don't look anything like her stuff. Why did they send it here? She pulls out a dark blue jacket with dark brown bands on the short sleeves, running her thumbs over the buttons carefully pinned to the shoulder straps of some weird harness.

What the hell...?

[Another nudge in the box reveals some rather strange equipment, some huge headset and metal gloves, as well as a smaller pair of gloves that seem to have mechanical components in them. Pushing the front door back open, Mika decides it's best to ask the expert.]

Quinn? I got something really weird in the mail...It looks like a costume but I've never seen it before, and there's these clunky bits that look like they escaped a cyberpunk flick. C'mere a second!

[B. Phone]

Has anyone ever gotten a package of stuff that isn't theirs? Like...it's not even something that one of your friends back home had, and it's not something you've ever seen before? Because I just got a box full of stuff that isn't mine and I don't know what to do with it.

[She's not going to mention that it all smells like her, that's just weird and no one would understand why that's the most unsettling part.]

Also Ema, Doctor Banner. I know you two wanted some supplies, but it there anyone else that needs something? Might as well get it all in a couple trips...
20 August 2012 @ 12:44 pm
✖ anxiety attack: 013 ✖ event: ???? ✖  
[339 Brady Lane, morning]

[The residents of Brady Lane might be awoken by sporadic bursts of barking and snarling in the middle of the night, and by morning Mika has reached a rather foul mood. Her poor sleep schedule's bad enough, but with the added stress of the sudden TV and radio noise on top of it has put her on edge.]

Quinn, I'm going out. I need to stock up on a few things, I'll explain when I get back. Raz, stay safe, I don't want you getting hurt and both of you keep an eye on that drone.


[Someone's voice sounds more raw than usual, a low growl constant in her voice.]

The clocks have gone strange, the drones are acting up, and the walls and floors decide to play at being air for a while. Anyone else keeping track of this? It looks like our lovely little cage is starting to have accidents.

I'm going to keep track of the radio, see if I can't make out any of the mutterings, but it's too obnoxiously low right now to tell what they're saying.

[339 Brady Lane, afternoon]

[Something odd is going on at the Hatch house. Aside from occasional bursts of colorful swearing as her supplies fall through the walls and doors, Mika seems to be spending her time vandalizing the house. At least if those seals she seems intent on putting up could even be called that. Anyone coming close can smell sage smoke and there seems to be a lot of red tape on the windows.]
13 July 2012 @ 02:44 pm
✖ anxiety attack: 012 ✖ Action ✖  
[339 Brady Lane]

[Shortly after the mail's arrived, Mika can be found sitting on the porch, a package torn open near her feet and she has a worn, discolored satchel in her lap. Her gaze is distant as she holds a battered notebook in her hands, flipping through the pages without really looking at them.

Of all the things she could have gotten back, she hadn't expected them to return her bag.
22 April 2012 @ 09:24 pm
✖ anxiety attack: 011 ✖ Poison Joke ✖  
[A. 339 Brady Lane; morning]

[She should have known better than to try to move the weird blue flowers that were springing up everywhere, but noooooo...

A very resigned and scruffy-looking pony can be found limping around the house, trying to see how much of the place is overrun with the blue blossoms.

While muttering in annoyance to herself, as usual.

Oh all the stupid things...a pony? Really? How'm I going to get anything done with hooves? It's not too bad, but still...

[B. John Doe Park; afternoon]

[This dull green pony can be found napping in a sunny patch in the park, her bad leg stretched out as she dozes. She's already been partially traumatized today, so why not strike up a conversation? After all, ponies aren't dragons, so poking a sleeping pony can't be that bad.

Also, even on the flank that isn't horribly scarred, she seems to be missing something important.

Her cutie mark. Mika is still a blank flank.

[C: Around town: evening]

[As nice as the nap was, Mika never quite realized how far the house was from the park until she has to limp home. The bedraggled pony is making slow progress, but she tends to stop frequently and sit to rest her leg.]
15 February 2012 @ 09:44 am
✖ anxiety attack: 010 ✖ Backdated to Monday ✖  
[A. 339 Brady Lane]

[For what has been over a month, the house has been host to a drone. Mika's drone has been quiet and demure, a perfect housewife on top of her nursing duties at the hospital. Thankfully no one is at home when she snaps out of it, as no one is around to hear her screaming in horror as she realizes what's been done to her.

But when everyone gets back, they'll find Mika in a foul mood, having managed to avoid the flowers springing up by simply being too angry to notice.

[B. Phone]

All right, what the hell have I missed? What day is it and how long have I been a drone?

[C. Streets]

[Mika is in a dark mood as she limps along, on a walk to clear her head from the left-over cottony feel of the droning. Ears flat and hackles up, she hardly seems to have noticed the explosions of color around her...yet.]

((ooc: Mika's plot thread can be found here if anyone wants!))