Jan. 31st, 2014 08:47 pm
godmakemeastone: (pic#6916485)
[personal profile] godmakemeastone
[River's perched on a high wall of the castle, knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them, her journal open beside her. She's at least five stories up, and she's looking over the castle grounds, taking it all in. She leans her head back and closes her eyes, feeling the breeze on her face. She's sure she won't fall, but it may not be so obvious to anywhere else.]

As close to the sky as I can get here. Reminds me of home.
godmakemeastone: (pic#6916521)
[personal profile] godmakemeastone
[The music is in her mind, but her feet move as if they've known the steps all along as she dances in front of the castle. She skips and spins in time, her skirt twirling around her legs. When she stops, she's breathless.]

Was a girl once. Loved to dance.

[She extends her leg and points her toe as much as she can in combat boots, then slowly brings in feet together.]

A woman now, but the same love.

[ooc: Set after the Florence plot. Join her or communicate via journal, I'm good with either.]


Oct. 20th, 2013 08:30 pm
godmakemeastone: (Default)
[personal profile] godmakemeastone
It's quiet here.

[She closes her eyes where she stands in the castle lobby, raises her arms out to the side, and tilts her head, listening.]

No noise. Can only hear my own thoughts.

[She opens her eyes and walks toward someone in the lobby, eyes narrowed as she tries to hear their thoughts. When she can't, she gives a bright smile to the passerby, then pirouettes gracefully a few times, before she breaks into joyous laughter. The laughter lasts only a moment, and her face clouds as she realizes something.]

Can't hear my crew. There, not here. Peace, but no Serenity. Need to find my crew.


Jun. 5th, 2013 11:09 pm
littlesoul: (pic#6002766)
[personal profile] littlesoul
[She's up high, as high as she can possibly manage without being on the roof of the castle itself. She's not having a bad day exactly but it is the kind of day where she's wary of 3pole. There are people she wants to see though, people she wants to interact with, even if she can't quite bring herself to interact with them directly.

So she puts a call out to the journals. No words are spoken but she hums, offering out a song for anyone to do with what they wish. She's not opposed to words though and will use them if they are use with her.]


May. 12th, 2013 01:36 pm
littlesoul: (pic#5806971)
[personal profile] littlesoul
[River looks a little worn down, a little tired but not bad. She's been hiding, keeping away from people after the Event Horizon and trying hard to keep herself as sane as she ever is with all the chaos that has been going through people's minds.

But she's smiling now, which is something.]

Faded into the walls for a while, slept for so long. Sorry. Back now, alive again. She's here if you need her.


May. 1st, 2013 03:20 am
littlesoul: (pic#6002772)
[personal profile] littlesoul
[Filtered to Jade and Natasha]

Come to the ball with me. Both of you.


Apr. 13th, 2013 04:48 pm
littlesoul: made by timorousbeasite at LJ (pic#5878279)
[personal profile] littlesoul
[She's bloody, of course she's bloody. Her hands, her feet, her face. She's blood soaked and burning with a displeasure that says she is not pleased at all with this.]

[She writes the entry with the bloody dripping from her fingertips, so it may come out a it smeared but the sentiment is there all the same.]

Blood isn't scary, neither is ink, ash or old lipstick. Don't be afraid, don't let it win. We all ache inside for something, all mourn the mistakes we made.


[her hands start shaking a little as she thinks of her own regents, her own mistakes.]

But we are meant to learn. To grow out of what they taught us. We are more than our mistakes, we are triumphs and blood and love and hate and vengeance and passion.

\We are not defined b our stains.


Apr. 3rd, 2013 03:13 pm
littlesoul: made by timorousbeasite at LJ (pic#5878270)
[personal profile] littlesoul
[River is settled on the roof of the castle, her journal opened up in front of her. She's staring at it for a long time before she begins to write, her letters lacking the panic and scribbling manner they had during her other journal entry.

Tell me a story.

{It's a simple request, one that might even seem childish to anyone who isn't her. She knows what she's looking for though, knows that she needs something to block out the noise in her head.

See, it's loud today. Louder tan she'd like. The world feels like it's crashing in on her, hence why she's outside, under the sky.

It's safer under the stars than it is with a roof over your head. If she can't be in the sky, she can at least have it blanketing her.]
theabjectauthor: (I am knowledgeable)
[personal profile] theabjectauthor
Good afternoon, everyone, and to those of you with the inclination, a happy St. Patrick's Day.

[Lemony's voice drifts over the journals over the sounds of chopping, rustling, and bubbling, a pretty clear indication that he's in the kitchen. every now and then there's a dusting of something powdery over the page - spices, to be exact]

I suppose I could regale you with the curious details of the holiday, and how it has evolved from the celebration of a man who dedicated his life to crushing the pagan beliefs of a country and converting them to Catholicism, or how that slowly evolved into an Irish-American celebration of culture, yeasty beverages, and the color green in various combinations. But that sort of information is readily available.

Instead, I am here at the request of my dear friend Sunny Baudelaire: as she does not quite have an extensive enough vocabulary, herself, I would like to invite you all to partake of a traditional St. Patrick's Day repast. Sunny is doing most of the preparation, and I am mainly acting as sous-chef, a phrase which here means "one who lifts the heavier things and handles the more dangerous bits of the cooking process".

Incidentally, corned beef - or salt beef, if you're more prone to British slang - became more popular with the Irish upon their immigration to New York, where the salted cuts of beef made available largely through the Jewish butchers of the city were more affordable than the pork they had favored back home on the Emerald Isle. So, if you're worried about the meal being kosher, there's no need for concern.

[at which point, the master chef herself sees fit to pipe up] Oleracea!

OH! Yes, thank you for reminding me. [ahem] Sunny would like me to remind you that it's also delicious when paired with cabbage, carrots and potatoes.

We're looking forward to meeting anyone who would care to come ... and I'll be more than happy to translate for Sunny, as she's eager to meet people.
fantasies: (nothing's gonna stop you now;)
[personal profile] fantasies
[Today, Henry is on a mission. Specifically, a kitchen mission.

Never one to turn down a perfectly good pie, he's painstakingly collected pies from where they've been deposited around the castle, both traditional and kind of weird, and created a sampler for himself at the counter downstairs.

He opens the journal as he eats, and only sometimes talks with his mouth full.]

Hey, everybody. I'm trying an experiment, and I need your help.

The castle keeps turning wishes into pies, and I want to make the weirdest and most delicious pie I can think of. But I can only make one wish, so I wanna make sure it counts.

Suggestions? Ready, go.


Mar. 13th, 2013 07:42 pm
littlesoul: (pic#5803450)
[personal profile] littlesoul
[She's perched on the highest spot she can find in the lobby, her journal clutched against her chest. This isn't anything like she's used to, nothing feels familiar. Her heart is beating hard in her chest and her hands want to start shaking.

Her mind is racing, filled with the thoughts of so many people around her. The night before, she had achieved some kind of calm, she remembered that, but now, with this new, strange turn of events, she's falling again, lost amidst the sea of thoughts around her.

She scribbles in her journal at a feverish pace, the words small and pushed together as she tries to hold back panic.]


Lost, lost, lost, lost.

Fell into the black and landed here. Fell and fell and fell until I hit the ground. I can't remember how to get back, too lost to see clearly.

Can someone pick her up again? Can someone put her back where she belongs?

Too loud.

Can't go high enough, can't find a way out, can't find anything that I want.

Ship, she needs a ship again. She needs the sky.
withmymind: (look down [ one of them is ])
[personal profile] withmymind
[ Filtered away from Simon and people that would harm him/her ]
He's here - Simon. He knows about the castle... that I've been here, that they left. [ That she's been here eight months, about Zoe, Kaylee, even briefly Mal ] I don't know if it's safe. [ For him. It's been safer for her than home ever was, but without River there Simon was safe - he wasn't hunted like she was. But then when Paradisa wasn't safe... she didn't want Simon to experience that ]

We need to look after him. [ No ifs or buts. River already is but... she's reaching out? As much as she can. She's not said much of home, not anything that hasn't been cryptic. It's enough to know it never mind to tell it ]

[ Simon ]
I have two apples.
withmymind: (and around [ you failed to be ])
[personal profile] withmymind
[ Laid out by the pond today is one River Tam. She'd been sat in the room she'd shared with Zoe since she left, going down into the kitchen in the dead of night.

River had enjoyed the water when she'd been at camp, being a water nymph was part of that but River had always enjoyed the water.

Today she was laid by the pond, on her stomach, arm reaching out to just lightly rest one finger against the surface of the water.

It's calm. Peaceful. The exact opposite of everything that River's life is. And she likes it ]
withmymind: (and around [ had a belief to ])
[personal profile] withmymind
Didn't think it would last. One after another, all gone. It's quiet even with the noise.

[ Have you missed this nonsense lately, Paradisa? For anyone confused about what she may be talking about it's quite simple really: she's alone. Kaylee left a while ago, and now Zoe has, and now she's all alone, last of the crew ]

They can't be blamed. They might not be here but it's not home, and still not safe.

[ There's a small pause ]

They're safe now.

[ Meaning: she's here. Without her they're free from the Alliance chasing her ]
withmymind: (that look [ for when ])
[personal profile] withmymind
[ Do you remember that statue that appeared in the lobby six weeks ago? The statue that looks like that odd girl, that one River Tam?

If you're walking by the lobby today you'll see the statue as normal, until around half past two that afternoon. It may seem as if at first the statue is glowing but really the statue is turning from grey stone into colour, and eventually back into a person. Once the statue has finished transforming it - the girl - falls to the floor, a little confused and rather troubled ]

Went away, lost in a trap. Didn't dig, but came back. Shouldn't be right.

[ River's just going to sit on the floor, pondering, trying to find herself again. She doesn't seem in a hurry to go anywhere ]
withmymind: (and around [ it called out then ])
[personal profile] withmymind
[ As fun as the adventure was River's sort of glad to be back in the castle - it was familiar and sort of was becoming home. She's even got her little buddy with her, a nameless Ralts that she's been unable to communicate with all week (despite her best efforts).

And it's with her Ralts that you'll find River today, sat in a corridor in the castle, right in the middle just to block your path a bit. Her Ralts is with her, occasionally wandering (and teleporting) about, and it's this that brings a smile to the girls face - that and finally knowing what it's saying. As odd as it is, and as disturbing, being able to hear again is a little comfort.

And there's some silent communicating going on, until River speaks in reply - if she replies.

That is until the journal comes out ]

Was nice - different. Went for a ride, saw something; it was familiar - good, like a memory.

[ Like being on Serenity ]

Back as it should be. [ Sort of. Back to normal anyway ] With changes, but not bad.

New things came, changed when we went. Not bad this time. It's different.

[ She hasn't been down to the first floor so she doesn't know what they are exactly but she knows there's something ]

Should be more like this, more that's good. Not enough.
withmymind: (and around [ ran in the dark ])
[personal profile] withmymind
[ River was quick to grab the pok├ęball when she saw it, curious about it. When the Ralts had appeared in front of her River had stared at it, eventually sitting down and still just... looking at it. (Zoe, are you worried yet?) ]


[ After the floors had started, when they'd left the castle that was when it had happened. She hadn't heard, picked up, detected (or in other words psychiced) anything since then. And it kind of bothered her, just because she was slightly used to it even if it did freak her out ]

Can't detect. Don't know.

[ The thing - her Ralts - isn't much of a talker either. Normally she'd hear it, psychic pokemon to psychic girl, but not now ]


Floods. Unknown city. [ She wants to say animals here but can't ] Creatures.

No explanation, just welcome.

[ It's like the last change all over again ]

It happened again.
withmymind: (and around [ made in gray ])
[personal profile] withmymind
[ Today finds River on the third floor, specifically outside where The Four Seasons Room would be. She's been in it before, only on Tuesdays so far, and after watching over Zoe in the clinic and her now being awake River decided to come back.

Although that plan had a slight hitch to it.

The door to the room? Isn't there. She's walked down the corridor a few times and has come back, checking a few doors as she goes (don't mind the young girl peeping in to your room) but no matter how many times she looks the room isn't there.

And she doesn't like it ]


[ She sounds confused, and a little sad ]

Not moved just missing. Not filled in.

[ No construction work went on, basically ]

No trace.

No sun.
withmymind: (and around [ silently seeing ])
[personal profile] withmymind
Troubling. No logic, no patterns, nothing to describe it. It's not magic.

Notes without sense, no commonalities. No meaning.

Has to have meaning.

It happened before. Not exactly but similar. February 29. February 11. January 25. December 18. December 5.

There are more.

This was different. It was louder. Saw more, heard it. Nothing to say but it was there. Still not a voice.

withmymind: (and around [ had no being ])
[personal profile] withmymind
It changed. History does, people forget and new stories are made. No one remembers the facts.

[ River does, though, she remembers a lot that she reads and she likes reading, something that you'll notice now if you're in the library. She has her journal open, dictating to it but paying no attention, too focussed on one of the books she has ]

Valentine's Day, a celebration of a saint, Valentinus.

[ Yes, she knows that she's late but what does that matter? You can never be too late to give information ]

Romantic connotations were fabricated, changing the meaning. Poets did it. Fifteenth century it was different.

[ She likes Earth history, considering that Earth is gone for her ]

The people were forgotten, lost in spectacles of declaration. Shouldn't forget.


paradisa: (Default)

January 2015