family reunion day 1;

[estival]

[It's a beautiful morning, shaping up to be a hot and humid day, as so many summer days at the Blind Buffalo Resort are. The piles and piles of people arriving in their cars to check in at the modest front office make it a noisy morning too, full of chatter and greetings from those who have long been apart. There isn't enough room in the office for everyone, so there's spillover of the crowd to outside, and a noise crowd jammed inside the room.

Where are you?]

Check-in Office;
Cabins;
   Marian Cabin
   Flynn-Bradley Cabin
   Freelancer Cabin
   Touchdown Cabin
   House Cabin
   Panem Cabin
   Wyndam-Price Cabin
   Aperture Cabin
   Cocktease-Samson Cabin
   Watson Cabin
   Sage Cabin
   Swan Cabin
   Stark Cabin
   Halliwell Cabin
   Borgia Cabin
   ... and more!
Lakeshore;
Stables;
   
For your reference:

Plotting post;
Family relations chart;

(no subject)

[heloise]

( Cesare, Ezio, Stephanie )

 
 

[ ooc; action for Cesare and journal first for Ezio and Steph? ANYTHING WORKS ♥ ]

(no subject)

[builds]

[ There's some clanking over your journals, Paradisa. Sounds like someone's working on something. ]

Where do you want this?

Over there.

Got it.

[ The voices of Clint Barton and Tony Stark can be heard over the journals, along with some whirring, clanking, and general sounds of work going on with machinery.

Until there's a particularily violent whirr, a clang, a grunt, and the sound of something, someone, falling to the ground.

There's a clatter of tools and some hurried footsteps. And then silence for a few moments... ]

....Well, that's it. I think I have to donate you to a college now.

[ And there's an almost keening, sad, mechanical whine before Tony notices the journal. ]

So. Gonna need some help. I've got a downed wingman here.



[ ooc: backdated to just before the plot, Tony's robotic arm thing KOed an Avenger, etc. ]

(no subject)

[exanimatus]

This trip is bullshit.

I hope that there's a serial killer out in the woods. I hope that he murders all of you.

Preemptive dibs on the bed with the least amount of blood on it.

[this iJournal message is brought to you by the surly teenager on the roof of the Marian Family Cabin. how did he get up on the roof? he doesn't know, but it's better than talking to any of you losers.]

35 notes played

[ectobabble]

[okay, sure, maybe it's late. maybe most people are tuckered out from playing on the lake or fighting with their siblings or the sheer mental effort of figuring out who the heck all these people are.

but that doesn't mean that some people are still up ... and around ...

like Ray, of House Touchdown, for example. he's found himself a dock to sit on, and pulled his harmonica out of his suit jacket. there's a cooler of beer sitting on the boards beside him, and he cracks one open to wet his whistle before he raises the well-worn harp to his mouth and starts to play.

a little night music, for you all, on a Monday evening. enjoy it or tell him to shut the hell up because you're trying to sleep, whatever works]