second memory sequence // DICTATED

[seventeenth]

So are any of the bars around here hiring? Or anything else, really. I know working isn't exactly required, but I kinda miss my old bartender gig.

15th Perscription ~ [Dictated/Action]

[atadiscoverer]

( Filtered to anyone with knowledge of genetics )

---

( Filtered to Noah MacManus )

---

[Carson is pottering around in the kitchen, fixing himself food, and he opens the fridge to find a note. On that note is scribbled:

TOUCH THE CHEESE AND I WILL GUT YOU

Carson just kinda stares at it for a minute.]

Well, that's bloody charming.

((OOC: As open as anything!))

ninth ;

[queensconsort]

[This entry is dictated in what is a passingly familiar, deep voice with a warm grumble crackling at the very edge-- like a low fire.]

After several weeks of work, I have acclimated myself to Paradisa's walls once more. This tower view with its spires and distant countryside reminds me of the great mage nation of Dalaran, yet there are fewer politics here and just as many books.

Complacency is occasionally very tempting.

( [Dragonsworn] )

( [Jade and Krasus' Deathwing Raid from 2011] )

Find Me a Blue Flower with Red Thorns! [action]

[wishmadeinfire]

[Well, Ashura was rather enjoying the fact nothing strange was happening in Paradisa (well, relatively speaking). Sadly, it was a rare enough occurrence that one learned to savor it rather than not. Not to mention he was enjoying the nice weather. He was so very glad that Winter was gone and Summer was coming in with the heat - just like home.

Which meant it was perfect weather to take out Svitana and head into town and do some shopping. Felix was in one of his adventurous moods again, which meant a lot of him planning and studying, and he needed ways to draw him out of it for a little bit. His preferred way was sweets ~ That, and he wanted to see what flowers were in to bring up to the room and decorate. He enjoyed having the fragrance of fresh blossoms around their chambers - it added a little something, as did the smell of chocolate.

So if you were in town today, you might see Ashura perusing the shops - though he's spending the most time in the flower shops. And if you don't see Ashura, you will assuredly see Svitana (the giant, red scaled dragon horse he rides), calming standing outside the flower shops, saddle bags across his back bursting with bright blossoms of pinks, whites, purples, yellows, and blues that seem a tad comical on the carnivorous and dangerous looking beast. ]

[ooc: approach Ashura around the town (anywhere and everywhere) or approach Svitana (which then invariably draws Ashura, lol). Also, bonus if you get where the post title is coming from 8"D] 

00110100 [four] [dictated]

[tres_iqus]

Requesting known frequency of body-altering events.

( Freelancer York & Delta )

( MacManus Family )

050 years late

[hulloeverything]

[It's very disconcerting to wake up and realize you can't see. It's another entirely to realize it's due to a helmet that's apparently stuck backwards onto your own head.

Upon further inspection Eleven discovers that it isn't just a helmet. He's stuck inside an entire space suit, an impact suit from the feel of it. Right. so that solves the what. Now for the why and how.

Ah ha. Yes. Only one answer for that, now isn't there? The castle. What day is it, anyway? Oooooh right. How kind of it to remind him of the two long years since his TARDIS materialized here. Two years filled with friends, companions, enemies and losses... including this one, apparently.

He bumbles around the console room... tripping over the pilot's seat twice... trying to find the door. Eventually he finds his way out into the room proper in the hopes of getting into his other self's TARDIS and see if he can do anything so he can at least SEE. That feels about right. Ah, there's the latch. Now to get the door open. That wasn't so hard, was it? He moves to step through the door... and falls straight out the window he'd so courteously opened for himself.

Anyone outside today will be treated to the sight of a man in a space suit falling out of a window on the fifth floor and tumbling straight to the ground.]

((ooc: Loss start! Anyone wanna help a brother out? Oh, uh, and backdated to yesterday, the 23rd.))

two :: action/journal

[i_got_this]

[South Dakota is choosing today to keep her armor on. Ever since her lovely welcome and Washington greeting her with a shot to her shoulder, she's been a bit jumpy when she was out on her own.]

[Still, she wasn't about to let the threat of Washington keep her holed up in her room. Once she's safely made it to the DeathMatch, she sits at the bar, placing her helmet on the counter and ordering a Long Island Iced Tea, then starts idly flipping through her journal.]

What's your favorite thing the castle has ever done? Least favorite thing? [Seemed liked the quickest, easiest way to get a read on this place, as well as some of the other residents.]

Filtered to Zelos

I'm ready for that sword-play lesson if you are!

048 Cats On Mars

[jammin_with_ed]

[It's a beautiful spring day. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping... and Edward's outside racing around the lawn with a Spoink and Arshi, her eight legged sheep.]

Arshiii!! Edward missed you!!

[She races over and gives the (rather indifferent looking) sheep a big hug. Swinging herself up onto the creature's back she proceeds to ride him around, flailing her arms excitedly as the Spoink bounces along beside them.]

((ooc: Open as always.))

Welcome to the 8th Annual Hunger Games

[peeta_bread]

( I don't want them to change me... )

[ooc: Spoilers for Mockingjay! Open as can be! Any visitors will be met by two very large bodyguards, Noble Five and Noble Six. Threadjacking may happen with Five and Six if the threads are not private.]

Scroll Twenty Nine

[huffythedragon]

[Spike is, as usual, chilling in the library, flipping through his journal]

So...does anything happen to you when you've been here a year? Because that's me, today. I can't even believe it's been that long. I guess I'm really lucky that I have ponies form home who care about me, and that I've made a lot of friends here.

It even makes up for the really scary or awkward stuff that happens like, once a month.

So I guess I'd like to thank everypony who's made my life easier here, been nice to me and been a friend to me. I really appreciate that you've made this place sort of a home to me.

(no subject)

[waterbends]

( Filtered to Zuko )

XXII.

[hellshaped]

( Kate Kane )

( Molotov )

[After waiting for a very long time for a response (like, two minutes -- a small eternity for a child, you see), Hellboy gets impatient and decides to go in the Four Seasons Room himself.

If you happen to be in there for the beach today, you might see a small red child with horns and a tail just walking around with his mouth hanging open. AMAZING...]

There are 219 different space groups

[onlyanotherbody]

[Another day, another body. Crowley doesn't recognise this one at all, not even faintly.

That's never good.

He stretches the body out for him, glancing around his surroundings, looking for clues as to whom he was currently inhabiting]

I forgot how quickly this crap got old. I'm really going to think of a way to make this more entertaining for me.

Who wants to take bets on who's body I'll be in tomorrow? Winner gets...I don't know, a fucking boat or something.

second glitch

[perfectisnteasy]

[anyone listening to the journal today might pick up a very steady, consistent sound, almost like a metronome:

flip.
flip.
flip.
flip.

at odd intervals, there'll be a soft thud, a scrape, and then the flipping continues. anyone who ventures onto the second floor of the library will find the source of the sound: CLU seated at a table, behind a MASSIVE pile of books. there's a tall glass of some sort of glowing, blue liquid off to one side, but other than that, it's just him and the books.

to the uninitiated, it'll look like he's not even reading. he just turns a page, blinks, and repeats the process ad nauseam. but he's definitely reading, scanning each page and its contents quickly before moving on. occasionally, if a spread is dense with text, or a concept it details is completely foreign to him, he'll pause a moment before turning the page. but for the most part, he just. keeps. going. after he finishes one book in particular, he stops, and scowls down at the journal]

[he's careful to keep his tone light, though, because That Is How You Make Friends And Influence People.] These are the most inefficient systems. I don't see how any of you can cope. Don't you get impatient?

xiv λ drinking

[assassino]

[The past few days have been, to say the least, a lot of bullshit to handle.

Never mind the confrontation with Altaïr: Entire entries on the journal about menstruation? Clothes shopping with Stephanie and Cristina, only for Cristina to demand to know about his true profession? Confronting Aradia about being loose with his secrets? Losing a bet to Molotov, discovering he has fathered not only a child but illegitimate children? Worse yet, Cristina coming across that conversation?

That was a lot.

As a result, Ezio is sitting in the otherwise-abandoned Death Match, drinking to his heart's content and playing darts with throwing knives. His aim gets a little more off with each more drink, but that's okay. Who the fuck uses the Death Match anyway?

Feel free to overhear him making noise or occasionally breaking a glass or bottle or something and join him. ]



[Thread with Mistress is NC-17 for buttsex............ just so you know....... I don't want to cause, like, accidental brain melting because of a wrong click.]

034 red letters

[eat_me_beat_me]

[Whether the journal falls open of its own accord or is knocked open by something being thrown across the room is anyone's guess. Either way, loud music is suddenly pouring through the pages. In the background (if you can hear ANYTHING over that) there's the noise of something shattering. Namely, the coffee mug that Nora just hurled across her room in a fit of rage.

Her chest heaves and she screams wordlessly, letting all the anger that had been pent up since she spoke with Mark on Monday pour out of her in one red hot streak. How DARE he?! And to think she might have even given him a second chance. She had been willing to take it slow and see what happened. Apparently she didn't mean anything to him. No more than words on a page on an apology to Mark.] Fuck!

[Breathless, she looks around at the chaos that had once been her room. For once she- the Poetry Lady- has no words. She has no words venomous enough or black enough. She shakes her head, scoffing the only two words on her tongue.] Fucking asshole.

[Orange paint from an overturned bottle bleeds over the page, leaving a jagged streak as Nora starts to pick up the shards of her coffee mug.]

((ooc: Open at your own risk, man. Beware teenage rage))