18 July 2013 @ 12:44 am
[Naoi looks indignant today, which is fairly uncommon for the much-too-prideful boy, but today, he also looks incredibly alarmed... which is far more unusual. His face is flushed and his usually prim and proper uniform is in disarray (the jacket is unbuttoned, hanging off his small shoulders like the world's least threatening hooligan, and his red ribbon is hanging useless around his neck).]

How could you?!

How could this even be?!

[He points an accusatory finger at the camera, trying to will his terrified eyes to convey anger instead.] I cannot fall ill! It's impossible!

I can't— don't you know who I am, what I am?

Damn you! God cannot fall ill, nor can the dead!
09 July 2013 @ 08:53 pm
[Naoi begins this video looking calm, at least from the neck up. Below that? His shoulders are quivering, his crossed arms look like they're rather badly attempting to quell the shaking, but shiver from the effort. As if not noticing, he carries on in a calm, even tone:]

... so, if one were to desire to get in touch with the new regime, how would one go about doing so?

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Also, does the City have any— non-hypothetical, of course— translating services that go beyond the scope of this little device?

Any help would be greatly appreciated.
18 June 2013 @ 05:34 pm
[The video feed starts with a dizzying blur of colour, a black clad arm flapping uselessly.]

Unhand me, trash! How dare you manhandle your—


[And out of the well-lit interior of the office building out into the considerably brighter City. Naoi's being shoved outside, hauled out by security.

The communicator he's swinging so carelessly, seemingly unaware of the fact that it's recording, shows a familiar raven-haired girl likewise being taken outside.

Evidently, they were trying to snoop around the Deities' office building, when through one fault or another (good bets on "ruckus and mayhem"), they were caught.]
03 June 2013 @ 10:01 am
((Ever so slightly backdated to yesterday.))

Attention, citizens of the City. This is god, otherwise known as Naoi Ayato, speaking.

Utsuho Reiuji-san is the one most beloved among you to your god. She is under my care and protection here and you are not to lay claim to, dishonour, offend, or harm her in any way, lest you be forced to realize that you are lower than a termite and be forced to despair in your own uselessness by comparison; crawling on the ground and eating dust will be a suitable punishment before you are given the chance to reflect on your transgression.

Send her many blankets and warm scarves! But I will be the one to deliver them to her, because you are not worthy of speaking to her, scum.

As much as it pains me to exist in a City occupied by so many idiots, I think that I wouldn't mind staying... even just a little while longer. [That was a touch sentimental, while the rest was possessive and ridiculous in a more typically Naoi fashion, so he quickly ends the feed.]
01 June 2013 @ 09:17 pm
((Proper network introduction time!))

[The recording begins with a shot of the soles of a rather nicely buffed, clean pair of shoes making themselves at home on the top of a coffee-table. Some first impression!

The owner of the shoes, dressed in a black Japanese school unfirom, is reclining into chair, sinking down so low that the only thing that can be seen beyond his crossed legs is his head leaning off to the side, looking most unimpressed.]

Well, so-called-Deities. I hope you had your fun.

I won't forgive such an insult so easily.

If you mean to trap me here, I advise you to take a good, long look at me while you still can, because I won't be here long. [He uncrosses his legs, placing his feet on either side of the communicator now. He leans forward, adjusting his hat.]

My name is Naoi Ayato. That's "god" to the rest of you.
28 May 2013 @ 02:49 am

[If you happen to be anywhere near the fountain, you will probably hear a scream as a boy drops out of the sky—]

You can't juST THROOOOW ME LIKE THIIIIiiiiiis, I'm god!!

[— and hits the water with a splash.

After getting over the initial shock, but not before he snatches his drifting hat before it gets too far, the boy sits up, soaking wet, to look around himself.

He doesn't look impressed with what he sees, replacing his hat atop his head... without dumping out the water, so it sends the water crashing down in a miniature waterfall around his face.

A moment spent in silent rage.]

What now? Honestly! Why do I still have a lifetime's worth of memories and awareness? I was expecting to be reborn...

[He climbs up to sit on the edge, taking off the hat and his jacket. Time to wait for his clothes to dry before he tries to get some information. He's not about to willingly interact with anyone looking like this!]