multiversallogs | Entries tagged with clarice "blink" ferguson

Who: Everyone!
What: Events around the city, any time.
Where: Everywhere in Baedal.
When: Whenever you’d like.
Notes:
Behold, your all-purpose open game log. There are a couple pre-written starters to help you generate new and open CR, and you may also use this post to start your own group activities or planned threads. GO WILD!
No one is late to this post. You may use it forever.
The companion thread for this post is right here!
DON'T THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT JUST RP.
Helpful links: Neighbourhoods, City Map.
Lucky Pastry Advice for the Month of Velldaren: A truly rich life contains love and art in abundance.

Warnings: Zombie horrors in the appropriately titled ZOMBIES! thread, otherwise TBA. Please put warnings in subject lines of your comments if content warrants one.

boomvox

Who: Everyone.
What: The Grand Re-Opening of the Gravity Falls Station.
Where: Babylon.
When: Veerdi to Sukkardi.
Notes: Party post!!! Go nuts y'all.
Warnings: Probable alcohol (and drug?) use. Flag stuff in subject titles if it needs a warning and I'll edit it up in here.

It's clear from the first moment anyone even gets on the Skyrail tonight that the Stratosphere Entertainment Group's pricey investment is going to pay off - every rail car is crowded with people decked out and excited for the event. To natives of Baedal, the idea of a holiday is days off work, maybe some camping - escape is alien, a little frightening, and completely thrilling. Even when the Gravity Falls station had hosted other venues, it was nothing so ambitious as to capture the imaginations of the city as a whole. And to immigrants to the city who no longer have the luxury of even simple trips out of town - well, it's priceless. A bittersweet but suddenly vital excursion.

Doors open just as the sun begins to set, the light reflecting off the water of the ocean illuminating the great floating platform as if the entire sky was on fire, before slipping into deep purple then black, the ceiling of their experience dotted with brilliant stars. Staff members wrangling the hazards of the first night are anxious but excited, kind and helpful even if they end up frazzled by the overwhelming turnout. There is security, all sporting neon purple shirts with lion logos, but even by their own admission, they're only there to breakup fights - and even they're smiling all night, too.

meanwhileback

Who: Penelope Lane, her models, her muses, her admirers, the curious and the critics. ANYONE. EVERYONE. GET IN HERE!!
What: Penelope's long-awaited runway show! Finally!
Where: St. Peter In Chains, abandoned cathedralish church.
When: Friday, June 29th! Eveningtime. Show starts at 7pm and goes... well. Until everyone isn't there anymore, I guess!! For whatever reason.
Notes: IMPORTANT: There's going to be a bunch of subthreads for different parts of the night. Feel free to tag around in them as you want! I'd like fabulous things to happen here, people. Fabulous. Things.
EDIT: NOW WITH ADDED TERROR!! SEE LINK BELOW!!
Warnings: Scary things, NPC death, injuries... horrors!!

The venue has been done up quite well for the occasion, all things considered. The old pews that were still salvageable have been repurposed and rearranged to face the aisle down the center of the enormous main room, where a raised runway has been set up. Lighting and temporary walls, and even an audio system have been brought in and installed for the occasion, and the impressive wreathed columns have been dramatically lit from below to emphasize the height of the room.

All told, it looks like it cost absolute scads of money to renovate an abandoned space to this level of elegance; whether this is actually true or not is largely immaterial. As with so much of society, it's the appearance of the thing that matters most, not the reality of it. Perhaps that's a statement Penelope Lane is making intentionally. Everyone knows the designer is one of the most outspoken members of her cohort, after all, and not one to misrepresent herself.

And she is, tonight, for one, brief, shining moment, entirely in control. Take plenty of pictures; it won't last long.

AND NOW: THE REAL SHOW BEGINS

meanwhileback

Who: Penelope Lane, a very traumatized-looking Wolfgang Einhorn, and YOU! YES, YOU!!! GET OVER HERE
What: The open casting call for Penelope's fashion line! Also known as "Models A-Go-Go" or "The Trolliest Place On Earth".
Where: The Valhalla Inn. Specifically, the Ballroom. (Yes, it has one. It's a hotel, isn't it?)
When: Coardi, Ceidary 16th. Also known as "Today". Doors open at noon!
Notes: I'll post two thread starters, one for mingling amongst one another in the waiting area, where you should feel free to post WILDLY about how ridiculous this all is, get into fights, etc, and another for your own personal threads with Penelope, where she will decide if you are ~what she wants~. If you want to post elsewhere (outside the Valhalla being attacked by jellyfish, having a smoke break out back, snorting coke in the bathrooms, whatever) feel free!! Just make a note where it is in the subject. Y'all know the drill!
Warnings: Cursing, trollery, diva behavior. Possibly giant sky-jellyfish harassing the building. The usual.

Signs posted in the lobby and hallways of the Valhalla direct interested parties back past the dining hall to a large, seldom-used room, helpfully labeled "Ballroom" in several different languages, many not remotely native to Earth. Inside, the carpeted room is otherwise similar to general design scheme of the Valhalla, except slightly dustier. Several rows of folding chairs have been set up in a sort of airport-style waiting area to the side, and far to the end of the room sits a long table.

Seated smack in the center of that table is Penelope Lane, The Grand Bitch Herself, smoking a cigarette and looking for all the world like she's enormously dissatisfied with just about everything she can possibly think of. On the table in front of her is a notebook and pen, an ashtray, and a polaroid camera. Somewhere, a radio is playing through slightly crackly speakers.

At the entrance, a small table has been set up with a stack of carefully typed applications and a handwritten sign, instructing that applicants should take one and sit in the waiting area to fill out the paperwork until the number at the top of their form is called.

It's all very professional, or it would be, if there weren't the threat of giant killer sky-jellyfish floating around outside eating people. This has, understandably, put something of a damper on the occasion. But as they say, the show must go on. Because Penelope says so. Damnit.

baedalites

Who: EVERYONE.
What: Swap meet.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Sukkardi the 14th of Haneden
Notes:
Swap Meet Spreadsheet: Pre-chosen swaps are green. Assigned are blue. There were a few characters that were selected more than once, so objects were assigned on a first-come first-serve basis. If you have any issues or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact the mod team.
For objects that might not be immediately apparent as belonging to their owners, there may be a picture or name attached, or players are welcome to have their characters ~just know~ it's for them. Drr drr drr, bb.
Party post nights are a great time to come join the chatroom.
The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
Warnings: None yet. Please put warnings up on individual threads.

The Apache is much the same as it always is: dimly lit, with the jukebox playing in the background, and the bartender serving whatever's on tap.

cestrumnocturnum

Who: Benji Ryans and You?
What: A transdimensional kidnapping might give anyone restless dreams.
Where: In your head. Or her head. Something like that.
When: Various nights through the week.
Notes: Please see the OOC post. Beneath the cut is a general idea of the setting in which you can tag in, but let me know if you'd like me to threadstart!
Warnings: Possible violence, depictions of ruined New York City.

( almost neurotic in its determination to imitate empiric failure and ignore empiric success )

thethingsidoforlove

Who: Jaime Lannister, Seoraj, Sonja Garin, and YOU
What: Various encounters with Jaime in Baedal.
Where: The Arena, Griss Twist generally, the Twelve Point divinity temples, other places your heart desires.
When: Whenever you want.
Notes: An open log and one closed thread! Tag in however otherwise, hopefully the above is a guide. But if you would like to do a thing and want me to kick off a thread, I am happy to open one, just let me know.
Warnings: Maybe language, possible medieval dickbag behaviour and the like. Probable violence in the case of the Arena.

( and bitter runs for glory )

andyoullmissit

Who: Clarice and YOU?
What: Some trading, some information gathering, some wandering.
Where: Out and about, certainly including Mafaton, but quick transport between neighborhoods isn't so much an issue for her.
When: Veerdi, all day
Notes: Let me know where and when you're tagging her. If you want to grab me ooc for plots before taggin, IRC or plurk are both fine.
Warnings: TBA if necessary

Peace is starting to get to her.

Granted, someone outside the situation might suggest the destruction of her world, including every person she ever cared about, might be what was getting to her, but Clarice long ago learned ways to survive. Looking too closely at her injuries wasn't one of those.

She's bad at stillness, though, and she's bad at domesticity. She doesn't sleep easily, but after all these years, she'd miss her nightmares, she sometimes thinks. Her whole life has been fighting, and now there's just waiting. Waiting and fog.

At least she's not half bad at the latter. (The fog probably isn't helping her mental state either, but she ignores that for now, like everything else that doesn't suit her.) She's doing alright, and is subtly picking up information about the guild. Maybe it'd be worth joining, so she didn't have to worry about stepping on toes when she goes out.

She still gets odd looks, but that's nothing. As long as she can pick out the people who are too afraid to be interacted with properly, she can get by.

She misses a lot of people, but then she buys herself fresh bread and tells herself it's not so bad. Sometimes she even believes it.

cerebral

Who: Charles Xavier & you.
What: Open post. Feel free to throw your characters at him.
Where: Mog Hill & Mafaton or somewhere in the central area of the city that your character is likely to bump into him.
When: Veerdi afternoon and evening.
Notes: None.
Warnings: None.

With no afternoon appointments and no one needing his immediate help at the Glory Shada (he is a counselor, after all, and they tend to keep more regular hours), Charles decides to slip away from work early in order to window shop around the city. It's mostly to look at furniture and other essential household items, although bookshops and strange trinkets inevitably end up catching his eye. Every so often he can be seen in shops, snapping pictures on his CiD, enquiring after prices and how long someone will be able to keep a reservation. Occasionally he'll wander into a cafe for coffee or tea on the go, more to warm up on a chilly Ruundary than anything else.

While walking, he lets his mind idle around, picking up and sifting through passing thoughts as he goes. Despite some friendly warnings to be cautious and his own recent encounters with the unforeseen forces of Baedal, he really can't help himself at times.

amourpropre

Who: Lucius Malfoy (Sr), Cindy and Blink
What: A journey to the fringes of reality for fun and profit. The second trip of others.
Where: The outskirts of Baedal, i.e., the fog.
When: Shundi morning.

They are far out enough, now, and the thick dense fog obscures their surroundings.

That said, there could be nothing to obscure, and there is that sense that although the fog acts as a veil, Lucius would not place money on the idea it hides anything at all beyond its legendary monsters and treasures. They've driven out through farmland until the encroaching mist swallowed the car, a thing Lucius hired with the down payment earned from Snape with the keys tossed to someone capable, and at the sight of some shape made blurred and indefinite, they'd come to a halt. Now, Lucius is (quite happily) out of the vehicle and leaving the door open, his wand out and shining a somewhat useless illumination charm at the end of it, the light doing very little to penetrate the thick fog that presses in from all sides.

Regardless, he points it to the figure. It's an animal of some kind, quite dead, as made evident by the jagged row of exposed ribcage pointing for the hidden sky. It stinks of ruined meat, with a smear on the road where its innards used to be before scavengers-- or indeed, predators-- consumed it. It's an unnatural thing, a six-legged, furred beast with its neck broken and bent, eyes picked clean and fur gone grey. Horns, silvery, wind in spirals from its head, one of them broken perhaps from age or conflict.

"Someone's done the task for us," he notes, just loud enough to be heard, his voice almost tinny in the strange atmosphere.

[ OOC: ONE OF YOU can have driven the car, Lucius cannot. :( ]

thenormalsquint

Who: Angela and You. YES, YOU!
What: Come be drawn like one of her French girls.
Where: A street corner a few blocks away from the inn.
When: Early Misdi afternoon
Warnings: The warning is... it's Angela.

( she picked the colors from the air... )

baedalites.livejournal.com

Who: The City
What: A Rally in Support of Cruorvores.
Where: Mercer's Square, Aspic
When: AT A CLEVER TIME
Notes: Everyone is welcome, including curious neutrals. NPCs available on request. OOC post.
Warnings: A general spirit of solidarity may be present.

Word has been spreading over the network and on the street. Leaflets have been available at open minded public houses and restaurants. A few of the city's more prominent inhabitants have organized a rally to show support for cruorvore citizens. It is going to be a public event; sanctioned, the leaflet assures, by the state. Speeches will be made, the true colours of the city will be shown. There is a lot of talk about standing up to the sowers of discord.

As the evening of the rally approaches, more and more people gather in the square. All sorts have come out for the event, xenians, humans and people who defy categorization mingle peacefully. A cat watches the proceedings from on top the stage has been erected to one end. The stage has been draped in banners promoting tolerance and acceptance, and small sign near the bottom proclaims it was built with the kind donations from Bloody Sunday, The Zygoda, Howl's Market and certain private citizens, of which there is a list. Some attendees have brought instruments and casually strike up a tune every now and then. Others have brought food, signs or torches as the rally promises to continue well into the night.

aldabeyoun.livejournal.com

Who: Njoki & an assortment of folks. Maybe you?
What: Stopping by the apartment in Mafaton
Where: We really need a snappy name for their place, don't we?
When: Veerdi, the second of Velldaren.
Notes: C'mon in. If you've questions, I'll be on AIM and plurk.

Njoki and Pickman's apartment is starting to look properly lived in. That odd, too open feeling of a new flat is slowly fading as Njoki puts up shelves, brings in fresh flowers, as Pickman's studio/attic fills with paint, and they've even got a guest in the spare room. She'd only briefly had the chance to meet West before getting called out on a long, messy, and rather more complicated than intended call, but he seemed like a reasonable enough man that she wasn't concerned about him staying.

While she may be one of the only undead specialized healers in town, it takes time for a business such as hers to get established and for a positive reputation to spread. It also takes time to find suitable suppliers for candles, doves, and the more esoteric items she needs, but even so, the shelves in the front room are filling with little, neatly labelled bottles of Florida water, bone meal, floor washes, and powders of all colours. The windows are usually open and the room itself smells faintly of citrus and drying herbs.

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Entries tagged with clarice "blink" ferguson

( open ) liberate your sons and daughters the bush is high but in the hole there's water

open post ● we're about to get up and burn this floor

St. Peter In Chains: The Collection. [OPEN!]

[OPEN] i hate to tell you but it's all an illusion

Noli equi dentes inspicere donati.

you can't rely on bringing people downtown, you have to put them there.

there were stern stands

they're going to have to fight me (open)

[OPEN]

the process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination

» she saw the pictures and painted them

A Rally in Support of the Hungry Few

Oh, I can get in a game, don't have a dime.

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