First Person: [There is a blaring angry voice over the communicator, it demands your attention. It is accompanied by a twisted grimace on the face of an otherwise lovely woman with short blond hair. Her eyes are glittering with rage. She grit her teeth as if to hiss at her soldiers. She was angry as a trapped bear and about as dangerous as one.]
Where is this! This isn’t the surge protector or Game Central Station. [Clearly she has been game-jumped without her consent or awareness and she’s got an earful for whoever happens to respond to her first. This game was full of some kind of kidnapping thugs and they had another thing coming if they thought she was all goo-goo eyes and no brawn. She wasn’t sergeant for nothing, don’t let the pretty face fool you.]
Whoever is responsible for this better get ready. I’ve got a lot of questions I want answered.
[her tone lowered into a soft sort of threat, almost a whisper, as if calming down but the focus in her eyes didn’t falter.] What game is this and who’s in charge of kidnapping characters around here!? I don’t care how it started or what it’s for. It’s ending right now.
Third Person: It had been a short while since she exited the train. Her hand was still tightly gripping the communicator she’d found on herself. Underneath her armor her knuckles were white and it felt as though she’d break that stupid watch here in a second or two. She’d be happy about sticking it to the man in a small way if it weren’t kind of important. She lost her communicator from home somewhere along the way so she took a few deep breaths and loosened her hand.
She was angry, yes. But under that, more importantly she was scared. This was beyond confusing and so sudden. Tamora couldn’t deny that this was reminding her of the last time her life seemed to be falling into place. Last time she was getting married and Brad was perfect and everything was all right for once. Then the cy-bug came and… well she didn’t want to remember the rest. About how the bug she had to kill contorted and bore Brad’s face in its last moments, seconds after eating him.
She shook her head, pushing that aside. Carefully she lifted the communicator to eye level, examining it yet again. She’d been making quick rounds around this city and poking around with this antique looking watch. It had failed to impress her until she learned it was a discretely high tech device. She kind of liked that.
But back to the worrying. She was in unfamiliar land with no real characters to interact with just yet. It was unnerving and in the wake of her recent marriage to Felix, it rung a certain bell for her. Old memories of Brad and how everything ended up in raging screaming tears. It couldn’t end that way again, she wouldn’t allow it. She had to find a way home, she WOULD find a way home. That was the end of it. She took another sweep of the area before opening the watch again to send another broadcast. Someone would find her, even if to interrogate her or offer some sort of arrangement as the prisoner they brought here. She’d be ready for it one way or another. Because one way or another she was getting out of here.
Sgt Calhoun. Wreck-It Ralph
Where is this! This isn’t the surge protector or Game Central Station. [Clearly she has been game-jumped without her consent or awareness and she’s got an earful for whoever happens to respond to her first. This game was full of some kind of kidnapping thugs and they had another thing coming if they thought she was all goo-goo eyes and no brawn. She wasn’t sergeant for nothing, don’t let the pretty face fool you.]
Whoever is responsible for this better get ready. I’ve got a lot of questions I want answered.
[her tone lowered into a soft sort of threat, almost a whisper, as if calming down but the focus in her eyes didn’t falter.] What game is this and who’s in charge of kidnapping characters around here!? I don’t care how it started or what it’s for. It’s ending right now.
Third Person: It had been a short while since she exited the train. Her hand was still tightly gripping the communicator she’d found on herself. Underneath her armor her knuckles were white and it felt as though she’d break that stupid watch here in a second or two. She’d be happy about sticking it to the man in a small way if it weren’t kind of important. She lost her communicator from home somewhere along the way so she took a few deep breaths and loosened her hand.
She was angry, yes. But under that, more importantly she was scared. This was beyond confusing and so sudden. Tamora couldn’t deny that this was reminding her of the last time her life seemed to be falling into place. Last time she was getting married and Brad was perfect and everything was all right for once. Then the cy-bug came and… well she didn’t want to remember the rest. About how the bug she had to kill contorted and bore Brad’s face in its last moments, seconds after eating him.
She shook her head, pushing that aside. Carefully she lifted the communicator to eye level, examining it yet again. She’d been making quick rounds around this city and poking around with this antique looking watch. It had failed to impress her until she learned it was a discretely high tech device. She kind of liked that.
But back to the worrying. She was in unfamiliar land with no real characters to interact with just yet. It was unnerving and in the wake of her recent marriage to Felix, it rung a certain bell for her. Old memories of Brad and how everything ended up in raging screaming tears. It couldn’t end that way again, she wouldn’t allow it. She had to find a way home, she WOULD find a way home. That was the end of it. She took another sweep of the area before opening the watch again to send another broadcast. Someone would find her, even if to interrogate her or offer some sort of arrangement as the prisoner they brought here. She’d be ready for it one way or another. Because one way or another she was getting out of here.