multiversallogs | Entries tagged with john allerdyce

Who: Kalenedral, John, and Jacqueline
What: hi welcome to Baedal here's your complimentary fruit basket
Where: the Valhalla Inn
When: some time after Njoki lets Kalenedral out of the arrival room
Notes: n/a
Warnings: does not actually contain a fruit basket

Well, that was definitely a day. Checking out schools and places to live near those schools is sort of tiresome to begin with, and having to drag Jacqueline with him isn't fun for either of them. She misses her mom, and John misses Ana's competence. They both have strong independent streaks, but John is used to being on his own and only taking care of himself, while Ana had to raise her younger sister and is actually a good parent.

Something from lunch today made Jacqueline feel sick. She had to go barf in a women's restroom while John tried not to wring his hands, and now they're back at the Inn early; fortunately, Jacqueline had perked back up on the way and seems fine again. John is trying to tell himself that you can't take a kid to the doctor every time they throw up, then wondering if that still applies in Baedal, where there could be fifty million new diseases. But everybody's a transplant and the city isn't overcome with a new disease every other month, so there must be something at work, here. But what if! But that's ridiculous, calm down —

He has to stop short to not run into Jacqueline, who was walking ahead of him and had just passed the common room.

"Dad dad there is a thing in there," she hisses with exactly that lack of punctuation, and John has had a careful talk with her about xenians and people who look different from the people she's accustomed to seeing, and she knows about mutants anyway, so a 'thing' must be something very unusual indeed.

"Not a thing," he reminds her, taking her hand. "Let's go see. We can say hi."

Still, he's cautious in escorting her into the common room, prepared to see a non-humanoid entity of some sort — a thirty something, scruffy-looking man with a neck tattoo and a solemn-faced seven year old girl with red rain boots.

exterrorist

Who: Charles Xavier, John Allerdyce, and NPC Jacqueline Travieso
What: hi professor this is my spawn i am very sorry about erik please give me a job
Where: Madrasati
When: the Thursday after they spoke
Notes: FYI. Also, anybody who works at Madrasati is welcome to join in, if you feel so moved (PYRO CR IS SO ENTICING I KNOW >_>). Just start a new thread.
Warnings: n/a

It's been awkward, of course. John has little idea of what it takes, day to day, to raise a kid, even one as undemanding as Jacqueline. Just because she doesn't demand his attention, however, doesn't mean she has no need of it, or wouldn't appreciate it. He's not sure what the balance between attentiveness and smothering is, but under the circumstances, erring on the side of the first seems better than the other way around.

She did cry the first night without her mom. It's the first time he's ever really tried to comfort her since she was a baby. He can't be much of a reassurement, but he's better than nothing. He's at least somewhat familiar.

Today, she is interested in the El Train and its procession from Mog Hill to Echomire, peering out the window, examining other passengers, and occasionally giving her new red rain boots a casual but deliberate swing. Ana has never been much for restricting Jacqueline's clothing choices, apart from the safety concerns, and John doesn't intend to be either. Rain boots are practical, as far as he's concerned. And if she wants to wear a maroon... jumper dress thing with a many-pocketed vest, well, fine. Whatever. She's warm, pockets are very practical, it's Baedal, no one cares.

The Madrasati building is sort of old English gloomy, even though it's not terribly overcast today. John conscientiously holds Jacqueline's hand as they proceed up the path. He's not nervous, only concerned, or so he tells himself; there's a low level jitteriness in his mind, a controlled tension in his body and the way he moves, but he's careful with Jacqueline's hand. Jacqueline herself is a bright streak of active awareness, taking in the shrubbery and the house layout with equal curiosity. She is not accustomed to holding hands with an adult anymore but is tolerant of it for John's sake, dimly aware of the meaningfulness behind the gesture as much as the physical comfort it gives both of them.

baedalites

Who: Everyone.
What: Part two begins.
When: Evening, a few hours before the end of the 24-hour siege period.
Notes: Feel free to thread in comments here or make your own posts! NPC your own monsters, team up in locations anywhere you like, and feel free to plot things at the plotting post, which has the relevant details. Remember that this is city-wide, so you are free to do what you like with locations.

Just after dark, the air of Baedal seems to change. While it was tense before, with the stand-off in Mafaton, a new kind of electrical energy begins to spread through the city, leaking from the sky itself. The horizon is clear tonight, even starry where the city lights don't obscure the view, but soon enough it begins to blur with color, and at an alarmingly rapid pace. Bright streaks of pink and green begin to spiral across the sky, in an approximation of the auroras, though it is much nearer and brighter than any common demonstration of an aurora should be. The geomagnetic storm swirls and dances, initially beautiful, but its intensity is ominous.

It's also growing. Most geomagnetic storms stay to one corner, but this spreads across the entire sky, green-purple-pink-red illuminated and inching further into the dark, leaving the city of Baedal tinted with a dim, eerie glow. This continues for about a half an hour, until that tension reaches its breaking point.

The magical boundaries holding Mafaton crack and then completely shatter. It is audible, and the backlash sends flying many of the Candlelighters trying frantically to preserve the borders of their siege. A few of them are killed by the backlash of their spell's combustion, but more are simply shaken; having one's magic work so thoroughly broken is not a pleasant experience. The sound covers another tearing, this time a metaphysical one that rips the heavens open in places the common eye can't see. Those whose vision allows them to observe different layers of reality will notice, but others will only see the incoming flood of creatures from other universes.

One siege has ended, but another has just begun, and this time, it's not just Mafaton at risk.

fuckrobertfrost

Who: ~~Erik Lensherr~~ THE SHERIFF OF MAFATON and ~~John Allerdyce~~ A SAMIZDAT REPORTER
What: the most awkward interview about murders and heads
Where: Mafaton
When: pretty soon after early transmissions of this event
Notes: if this messes up plot in any way you can blame TK. I am an angel this was TK's idea etc. /flies away like a lawnmower
Warnings: possible gore! Erik saying Magneto things. Newbie journalist mistakes.

When Murrough had his breakdown and retired to Chimer, the editor in chief had called in and hastily promoted their contributing editor. Samizdat is a relatively small operation in comparison to the other newspapers, both out of necessity and choice. You have to be of a certain political mindset to work there; alternately, extremely apathetic. Drinking also helps. Which is not to say that Samizdat doesn't have work ethic, that they aren't a good paper — they are, because they work together. Each and every one of them may be dysfunctional as people (well, he can't actually tell with the graphics department, which consists of one mostly humanoid xenian who doesn't talk), but as cogs of the news machine, they get shit done. He's busted his ass as intern. That isn't really why Lysandra lets him have this interview, though. He knows because she straight up told him that. It's really just a matter of convenience, slight expendability, and also by the way she knows he can control fire so he gets to go to vampiretown, have fun, don't drink on the expense account, that's a joke you don't have access to the expense account, which is a jar of coins on Lysandra's desk.

Lysandra is a witch or something, because he never told her anything and he's never slipped up at work or at the apartment. Well, whatever.

He's not giving this chance up even if the interview is with the Sheriff of Mafaton, also known as Erik Fucking Lensherr, also known as his fucking boss or some shit, jesus fucking christ this is against all the rules of journalism.

In any case, by the time he gets to Mafaton, it's about ten til seven in the morning, which honestly means nothing to him anymore. He's dressed as usual (there was no time to change), one sleeve of his hoodie pulled down over the shark face sleeve, gripping a recorder and a notepad. Eddie could not be located and so the entire graphics department, the praying mantis-like Spring Blossom #23 is with him. Her presence is what makes John send Erik a terse message in addition to the official one Lysandra, as editor in chief, had sent: It's me doing the interview so could you pretend you don't know me. Thanks. It's not clear that Spring Blossom #23 would notice or care if Erik knew John, but he's not taking any chances.

The scene is being cleaned when they arrive, but he can, as usual, spot Erik immediately amidst the bustle, and they head in that direction with only a little wrangling from someone directed to keep people out.

gwynn

Who: EVERYONE IN THE WORLD
What: When it's time to party we will always party hard.
Where: Megan's apartment, Howl Barrow
When: Sukkardi/Saturday night
Notes: Threadjacking is encouraged. Also, again, if you want to tag in but your character wouldn't just show up, feel free to assume Megan befriended them somewhere and dragged them over/invited them personally.
Warnings: Preemptive warnings for drug use, naughty language and sexual situations.

Megan's housepartment (it looks like a house to her, but the realtor assured her it is an apartment, okay, whatever) is a quaint little thing in the middle of a friendly, middle class Howl Barrow street that is deceptively tame by day and comes alive by night. Her neighbours are super chill, which is her favourite part of living here -- she asked around about a party, if the noise would be a problem, and nobody had any problem with it. Howl Barrow rules.

The inside's a bit furnitureless right now -- she's got a few mismatched chairs and a pull-out sofa, that's about it -- but she's already started decorating a little, hanging art on the walls and putting up nice curtains. (Nobody is allowed to puke on her new curtains.) She's well-stocked with a wide selection of alcohol, ranging from mid-price beer to hard liquor, and snacks, nothing fancy.

She's got her bong out too, yeah.

By 7, there's already a couple people milling about and drinking -- coworkers from the Vault, mostly. Music's playing from an old suitcase turntable set up on the kitchen counter, it's something Baedal-native, hard rock, and in an alien language.

For the shy and/or drunken Snow Whites, there's a friendly, fluffy ragdoll cat lounging around, casually draping herself wherever is most convenient for attention and adulation. Caution: do not give cat beer.

norea

Who: The present anti-CL team.
What: Meeting to discuss.
Where: Lost Society, in the library.
When: Misdi, around midnight.
Notes: plotsss. I'll have three comment sections: one for Rhade showing up early, one for the collective group (we'll have to sort out orders since there are quite a few characters), and one for separate character interactions (one on one or whatever y'all prefer). AND... we will have to copypaste in our tags from LJ, soooo.
Warnings: idk yet.

The spell that Hasibe has worked over Lost Society means that no one is going to remember they were there; service will be a bit spotty, as a result, and the waiters on hand will seem peculiarly disinterested in whomever shows up, only providing them with drinks and necessities when deliberately prodded, but that's an aspect of the magic. She partially chose this location because it's easy to find a secluded area there, and in this case, she finds a table in the library, shrugging off her white coat to rest it on the back of her chair. She is dressed in a sleek, high-collared dark-green dress that is not too flashy, in order to keep with the discretion of the venue.

The other reason she chose this place is that they don't care if you smoke indoors. So that's what she's doing, rose-flavored Black Devil cigarette in hand, sitting back in her chair as she exhales smoke toward the ceiling. She has a couple books open on the table in front of her, and nothing in the way of food, but she does have a drink. Priorities.

baedalites

Who: EVERYONE.
What: Catenrat party.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Givdi the 22nd of Toidaren
Notes: The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread. When your characters are ready to leave, they'll be given a little wooden cheese, a glass fish, and a voucher for a big basket of snacks.
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. Above the doorway and wound through a few of the sets of antlers some enterprising soul has placed a garland decorated with little blue and green fish.

fuckrobertfrost.livejournal.com

Who: Kate and John
What: John uses Tommy as an excuse to talk to Kate, HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES TOMMY
Where: the library
When: during Kate's work hours (SORRY MARTEL)
Notes: takes place after Tommy's post to the network
Warnings: probably not, but the library IS a pretty racy place, what with all the books

It's late afternoon when John slips out of the Samizdat offices, figuring he's finally accrued enough intern abuse to be excused for an early absence. At this point he knows they can't fire him — he does too much, and one of the editors just had a mental breakdown. They won't appreciate this, but they can't do jack.

He's been back to the library a few times since the first time he ran into Kate, but he hadn't seen her those times because he'd been taking care to avoid her, and if he had seen her on those occasions, he would have flung away the romance novels he'd borrowed as research panickedly. So far the basic plot outline seems pretty straightforward, and if he fills in the blanks with more interesting characters, maybe someone will see fit to publish it.

There's also the matter of Tommy's monster from the black lagoon, but with teeth. If he'd wanted to ask Kate about that, though, he could have just messaged her over the CiD. But that's no way to make an impression. Not that he's trying for that. Trying is for try hards. He is instead just super casually dropping by her desk, and if he happens to be slightly better dressed today, sort of (it's the nice hoodie), so what.

He'll just open up with a totally awesome, "Hey."

symbiotastic.livejournal.com

Who: Eddie Brock/Venom & OPEN
What: Eddie tries to deal with his anger management problems. Befriend him!
Where: The Apache, Mog Hill
When: Late at night (several days before his fight with Tommy and Billy)
Notes: Multiple threads are fine. If you want to have an encounter with Venom instead of Eddie, that can be arranged, as he's feeling predatory right now.
Warnings: Possible violence.

( Freaking alien-fortified alcohol tolerance. )

magnetic

Who: Magneeter and ~~Ponyboy~~ Pyro
What: manly Skyrail date
Where: ...the Skyrail, starting at Griss Fell station
When: about a million years ago at this point, we're slow
Notes: backdated the most
Warnings: possibly teenage cussin' /clutches pearls

Two o'clock on Thursday, he'd said, and as the university's great old tower bells across the river begin the traditional preludial peals, Erik looks in its direction. The pale-faced clock and its iron fixtures just visible between two buildings. His eyes follow the spire up into the belly of a cloud, and he wonders what his friend is doing—whether there's a lesson now, or more grading to be done, or what-else.

He has on a pair of sunglasses, and no hat, and his hands are in the pockets of his jacket. His trousers are scuffed at the knees and smeared with a bit of black grease and his feet inhabit a pair of heavy, dirty boots. As if on cue (but not on purpose), he turns his head with the final tolling of the hour and resumes watching people as they move past him down the stairs, or approach on their way to the Skyrail's platform, and looks for John.

joiedeviolet.livejournal.com

Who: Kate and John
What: A mutant walks into a ~~bar~~ library....
Where: The Library of the Blessed St. Brian
When: Shundi afternoon

With it being Shundi (Kate still calls it Sunday purely by habit), the library's quieter than usual. Only a handful of people mill around the shelves, getting around the place with practiced ease and familiarity. Not that Kate minds much; it's less work that she has to do. However, less work also means more boredom, so a pencil finds itself as a makeshift hair clip holding her long dark hair out of the way as she spins around slowly in her chair at the information desk.

Only four more hours of this and she can stop by Wanda's for a free dinner.

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.

fuckrobertfrost.livejournal.com

Who: TOMMY SPEEDSTER MCBUTTFACE & JOHN ASSHOLE PYROBRO
What: a public opinion poll for the Samizdat newspaper
Where: Aspic bazaar
When: mid-morning to afternoon w/e
Notes: jerks (or if you really want your character to give their opinion to John, you can tag in!)
Warnings: jerks

If this is some kind of hazing ritual, John supposes it could be worse. It's only to be expected that the poorly paid new hire is the one who has to make the coffee and fetch lunch and conduct word on the street type surveys. Fine. He can deal with that. Aspic's bazaar is busy as fuck and no one really wants to talk to a scrubby dude with a clipboard, but he's managed to wrangle a few opinions out of people. So far, in a revolutionary turn of events, most everyone is against people dying. He's not exactly a journalist major but he's pretty sure the guys back at Samizdat would prefer reading something a bit less diplomatic. Maybe not something really inflammatory. It's just going to be a bar graph to accompany an article or whatever.

"Hi, I'm with Samizdat, what's your —" That's generally about as far as he gets with most people, who just want to get their shopping done. The rest of it is supposed to be "— opinion on the vampire sitaution?"

fuckrobertfrost.livejournal.com

Who: OPEN
What: an evening outing
Where: around Brock Marsh, possibly a little further abroad if desired - any setting is fine
When: the evening of his arrival
Notes: this will take place after he meets Kate, naturally, but that thread isn't finished yet so if something comes up, I will edit it in and note that!
Warnings: none

It's comforting to be ignored, as the people of Mog Hill are more or less used to newcomers staring at everything. Still, he doesn't like to play tourist, so John steals looks rather than gaze outright, keeping his head down and radiating a certain irritable unsociability. As he trudges along, glancing here and there, he probably looks a little disreputable — it's the whole slightly unshaven, more than slightly sullen thing. And maybe the furious chain smoking. Which is not really calming him, since he only has the one pack and it's running low already. With that in mind, he eyes what looks like a convenience store and then enters to peruse the cigarette options.

He's traveled quite widely for someone his age, so not seeing any familiar brands doesn't throw him, but it is still a little weird. Scowling at the rack, he hunches his shoulders and tries to collect himself. He needs a job. He needs to get the fuck out of that inn, and get familiar with the city.

He needs to go home, but if this shit happens often enough to have a fucking pamphlet for it, that's probably not happening. God knows he's not exactly indispensable to the Brotherhood, anyway. No one contacted him and that doesn't mean they're not here but it means he's on his own, which he hasn't been for a long time. Purposeless, too. Maybe he should go back to school, however the fuck that works here. He can't really imagine that.

Selecting a brand at random, he then lingers over the available selection of newspapers. Some of them remind him of tabloids, except they're not sensationalist — instead of LIZARDMAN EMERGES FROM FLORIDA SWAMP, EATS PET CAT, it's like LIZARDMAN OFFERING SUBSTANTIAL REWARD FOR RETURN OF LOST CAT. There's a thought. He could go cat hunting.

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Entries tagged with john allerdyce

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with his back to the audience

the sky is falling.

interview with a I can't finish this terrible pun

blow a kiss for all the hearts they gon drop

005; CLOSED. and darling, i saw it all.

Bite they little heads off! Nibble on they tiny feet!

John's concern for Tommy knows NO BOUNDS.

Urge to Kill... Rising...

find us a trap door, find us a plane

» she said, "hello, mister. pleased to meet ya."

A Rally in Support of the Hungry Few

truly the start of a glorious relationship of ... some kind

:E

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