paradisa

[She'd expected the Castle'd pull a trick like this. She'd known it when the first strains of that slow, gooey violin music had started playing, and all the obnoxious pink hearts had started appearing everywhere. She'd even expected the box of candy. But she'd not expected the cake. And it looked so forlorn there.

So, Chell's out in the lobby, sitting on one of the sofas, with her feet up on a offee table which has suddenly decorated itself with obnoxious heart-shaped motifs, with her journal on one knee and a slice of the cake she'd found along with her candy on the other. She slowly sets down her fork with a clatter on the plate and turns to write in her journal.]

Is anyone else enjoying this amazing cake as much as I am?

[Then she goes back to eating. But as she finishes the last bite, she finds herself thinking. Man. Something fuzzy would be nice...]

silentrunning

[The first thing Chell notices the second that she's back in her room after the mirror spits her out is the fact there's a fish tank on one wall now, a fish tank that takes up the entire wall. She blinks in utter confusion, and pads over to look at it.]

[Awww. That's a cute....Magiccarp?]

[Nick's Magikarp. How... How had he gotten here]

[With a cold sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Chell runs out of her room, down the tower stairs, forcing down tears that are blurring her vision, and tears up to Nick's room... She already knows what she'll find. And sure enough there it is. The blank name plate that she had been trying to brace herself for.]

[But there really is no way to brace yourself for something like this. Chell presses her hands flat against the door for a moment, just remembering all the times the two of them had spent together, all the talks, all the... everything. He'd been very special to her in a way she couldn't exactly understand.

Slowly, she drops to her knees, leaning her forehead against the door that used to be Nick's. And then she writes in the journal. God. She'll have to be the one to deliver the bad news... But by sheer force of will, she keeps her hand from shaking.]

For anyone who knew Phoenix Wright, he has gone home.

[Well, that's that. She huddles up, flat against the door, not wanting to move yet. She can't move yet. She knows that name plate won't instantly flash back into having Nick's name on it... But this is the only way she can pay her respects. Then she glances down at the journal and adds something to her message.]

Does anyone know what to feed a Magikarp?

[She'll be there for a while, huddled forlornly in front of a door with a blank nameplate. If you want to find her, that's the best place to do it.]

silentrunning

[Chell's sitting on the beach, staring out at the water. This is the very first time she's ever been to a beach, so she's soaking up the sunrise. Her journal is open on her lap, and she's writing in it, kind of distractedly.]

This place is pretty. I think I could sit here forever. Anyone want to come join me?

[Sitting on the beach is nice. But it'd be nicer with company.]

silentrunning

[It'd started quite innocently enough, actually. Chell had been hearing a lot about this Santa Clause fellow recently... And she'd been thinking. If some large man in a red suit could do it, then why couldn't she? It hadn't taken her long to figure out what to give every resident even... As far as she knows, most folks like cookies...

So, that said, she's been in the kitchen for most of the last two days, baking up batches of cookies, and mentally thanking everyone who had either taught her to bake or tried her first batches or had in any way helped.

But it's Christmas Eve, and she's done just in time.

She'd planned everything out, even how she was going to carry the cookies. Enlisting the help of the ice hotel's stafff, she wraps all the batches of cookies in colorful parcels, and tags them with her name. Then she sends the penguins off to deliver her presents and toddles exhaustedly off to bed.]

[OOC: Every resident of Para will get at least a batch of cookies. People Chell has CR with who have posted on the meme will get their presents and a batch of cookies... And happy holidays, whichever you celebrate.]

silentrunning

[Chell opens her eyes slowly and finds that the tip of her nose, which is poking out from under the blankets is cold. Nothing new about that. The temperature has been getting colder lately after all, though she's very confused as why. But when she cracks open an eye and peers around, she's instantly awake and scrambling out of the block of ice that has become her bed, wishing up something very very thick to wear and snagging up her journal before running toward her door and out into the hall. And everywhere she sees the same thing.

Ice. Chell knows about ice. She's read about it in books and the like. But she's never seen it. Not till now anyhow. And when she makes it to a window and peers out, the whole ground outside is white, and there's something white mounded up in billowing piles blown by a wind that's howling around the eaves.

Snow? Could it be snow? Seriously? She'd always wanted to see snow. Ever since she'd read about it in that book about Santa and his eight tiny reindeer, she'd been waiting. And now here it was.

She wasn't sure how to dress to go out in it, but she was going to do it. Running quickly, she slid down the bannister of the tower stairs, tore across the lobby like the hounds of hell were chasing her and bolted outside... straight into a snowdrift.

Aiyee that was cold. Dragging her journal out of the pocket of her coat, she wrote a message...]

Snowdrifts are cold. I have heard of something called snowballs? But how does one make them if the snow is too cold to touch long enough to pack them effectively?

[OOC: Feel free to run into her between the lobby or outside, or whatever. Open like an open thing.]

☻ happy

silentrunning

[Chell's standing in the lobby, staring at a nut cracker, journal in hand. After a few minutes of wondering what the hell these little doll things are, she cracks open her journal and writes a question to the residents at large.]

What are these little wooden doll things?

[She experimentally pokes at the nutcracker she was just staring at. they're so weird!]

OOC: Open for kisses.

silentrunning

[Chell has cracked one eye open, but only one. Because the throbbing headache slams through her brain like a dull butter knife trying to divide concrete. Quickly, she closes her eye. Ow. Where did this headache come from?

Leaning up on one elbow, she attempts to sit up, only to have her breath stolen by a deep, wheezing cough and almost instantly after that, a sneeze that shakes her body and starts her hacking again.

And lucky, lucky Chell. Her journal has fallen open at an unfortunate moment...again.

She'd seen a lot of entries about people getting sick lately. But why did she have to get sick too? Grabbing the journal, and a pen, she attempts to write a message. Unfortunately, the letters of her message look a little smudgy, probably due to the fact she keeps sneezing, and even though she covers her mouth with her hand, tiny droplets keep spattering the journal. But she's trying.]

Is anyone out there not sick?

silentrunning

[Chell is tired of being a cat. She's been a cat for FOUR DAYS now. She can't write. Can't speak. Can't communicate in any meaningful way. So, at the moment, she's pacing around her room. Her fur is all fluffed up, and she's growling softly to herself.

And suddenly she realizes, she can't just let this stand. The Castle's fucked her over and she is sick of it.

She glances down at her journal, lying unassumingly on the floor, where it has been lying these last four days and stalks over to it, butting it hard with her nose. People's pets are always nosing their journals open, right? Right? So why can't she?

And almost as if the journal had been waiting for this, it topples open.

But now what? It's not like she can write in it. Or dictate anything more than yowls and meows.

For a little while, she goes back to pacing furiously around her room. If only she could do something, something to tell the Castle exactly how she feels... The walls are closing in.

And then she remembers something. All that beautiful, fancy furniture in the lobby. And she realizes she really wants to dig her claws into a silky leather sofa just once. She wants to make the Castle pay somehow.

She doesn't have weapons, but she has claws. And teeth. She can still cause damage and wreck the pretty things the Castle puts forth to keep them all placid.

Crouching, she gives her open journal a mighty shove in the direction of the partially open door of her room and darts after, shoving it in front of her. The closer to the lobby she gets, the more angry and frustrated she gets.

She's been reduced to walking on all fours, shoving her journal with her face because she has no hands. Sure. She has friends who have no hands and they manage. But none of them are here, and she can't ask how they carry their journals. And right now, she only wants to be herself again.

On reaching the lobby, she pauses, eying the nearest window, and crouches down, fully intending to leap to the top of one of the sofas and run across it to rip at the drapes... But the knowledge of how to jump goes completely out of her mind. And that remembrance of her loss is the final straw.

The journal lying on the floor picks up an unearthly shriek of fury as the orange cat climbs up onto a sofa's back, shredding the leather with claws and teeth, stuffing flying everywhere.

Damn this feels good.

OOC: Hey Para. Ever seen a cat wreck a lobby?Welp, you get to now. Come join her or tell her to stfu. She'll be ripping drapes, shredding sofas and knocking lamps off tables.]

silentrunning

[Chell's sitting in the kitchen, staring at a book of recipes with a furrowed brow. She rereads the chocolate chip cookie recipe over again. They explain what goes into these things, and how to combine the ingredients. But she's still so confused. So, when all else fails, she turns to her journal and writes an open inquiry.]

Does anyone know how to make cookies? I know I could just wish them up, but I wanted to try my hand at it myself. If anyone would like to help, I think a half half split of the results would be in order.

[OOC: Open over the journals and in person if you want to run into her with her nose in a book.]

cantacquityou

( Chell )

☻ contemplative

silentrunning

[It was early morning when Chell had heard the sound outside her door. Leaping up from the floor where she'd fell asleep, she darted to the door, opening it a crack to peer out.

And there, sitting right outside her door are a pair of strange kissing dolls. Very strange. And stranger still? one of them looks like Nora Diniro. She doesn't recognize the other doll, having never seen him face-to-face... BUT she can think of only one person that Nora would be kissing.

Scooping up the dolls, she wanders back into her room, and picks up her journal. Opening the journal, she writes.]

I intend upon leaving the Castle today, and going to explore town for the first time. If anyone would like to come with me, or knows of anything interesting in town that you think I should know about, please tell me. I want to get out and get some fresh air, and walk in these odd crackly leaves people are speaking of.

[OOC: The two kissing dolls are Mark and Nora and are mun-approved. Open for action or over the journals. Feel free to find Chell wandering through town dorkishly, talking to these dolls if you want or over the journals. And per the requests of the muns, after this post, anyone else who'd want to find them can assume that Chell set them outside her door. Forgive the long OOC, but I've never ever done anything involving anyone else's characters in my posts before.]

silentrunning

[Chell is actually outside today, sitting near the duck pond, watching the floating birds in utter fascination. She's never seen ducks, so she doesn't know what they eat. But she does have some bits of cookies and bread in her pocket. Every time she wishes up food, she stows a little away, just in case there should come a time when she can't find food like there was back in the facility. Right now, she is eating a little only slightly stale bread, and tossing some into the pond for the ducks to eat.

If Chell were being honest, she'd say she's a little lonely. If she even knew what loneliness is. So idly she opens her journal. She doesn't know how to filter messages to individuals, so she writes this message with the person's name at the beginning, in hopes that they'll see it when they flip open their journal... And she really doesn't mind if anyone else sees.]

( Phoenix Wright )

[She stares at the duck pond for a few minutes more. The birds are mesmerizing to her. And as she stares, she thinks. It would be very nice to have a friend like that, an animal friend she could share her food with and who would follow her around. That sort of thing. So she pens another question, this time to the castle at large.]

I know some of you have animals. How did you get them? I don't mean animals who can talk and write. I mean... [She taps her pen on the page, trying to think of the words.] like animals to follow you around, who you can share your food with, like... [She remembers one animal from her childhood, one she had always wanted, but been unable to have due to her brother's ever-present allergies.] Like a cat.

☻ calm
location the duck pond

silentrunning

Backdated to shortly after Hard Harry's broadcast Monday night.

[Hello Paradisa? Are you enjoying your Monday night, now that Hard Harry's closed out his broadcast, the journals are really quiet aren't they? Welp, that'll be changing very very soon.

It starts off slowly. Just a few isolated sharp pops, coming over any open journals. And if you're in theSati tower by chance, the sound just might be reverberating through your walls.

Mark Hunter has possibly inadvertently created a monster. He has given one former Aperture Science test subject a huge role of bubble wrap and told her it's good for stomping on.

And that is exactly what Chell is doing, on a quiet Monday evening. Popping bubble wrap like any sane person would.]

[Open in person and over the journals, though you might have to scream to get her to hear you over the racket. Vice versa, if you want to come pop bubbles with her, she'd surely be glad for company.]

silentrunning

[Something wasn't right. That was the first thought that filtered into her mind as consciousness returned. She focused, forcing her mind to work. What wasn't right? What was it? The floor... It was far too hard. And it didn't feel like the dirt and tall rippling plants she had been lying on. This could only mean one thing.

Scrambling to her feet, she stared around the room, confused. This did not look like any room in Aperture that she'd ever seen, and she had gotten to know the facility quite intimately over the years. Frantically she peered around, searching for buttons to push or cubes to move or...anything she knew. But there wasn't anything familiar here.

But there were plenty of surfaces here which looked like they would accept portals... She started to raise her right hand, fingers crooked into the firing position for her ASHPD... And then she remembered. Her portal device was probably floating somewhere up in space right now. She had no way to defend herself, no way to get away except for running. She was at an extreme disadvantage. And she had been stupid to think her captor would ever let her go.

Once again her eyes darted around the room, falling on a small leather-covered book lying open on a table. Was this her test? Was she supposed to pick it up? Would the whole room explode if she did? This sounded like something GLaDOS would do. Put her in a strange room, give her a seemingly innocuous book to pick up...

Knowing she likely shouldn't, she darted over to the table, snatching up the book, pulling it against her, still open, balanced in one hand. And then she waited a second with bated breath. No explosions. No alarms. No floods of neurotoxin. No sentry turrets. Only quiet.

She glanced around wildly again, eyes suddenly falling on a sofa, pushed neatly into a corner. Streaking over to it she shoved out an end, squished her way behind it and pulled it back into place. She curled herself into a ball, tucking her knees up to her chest, flinching as her right Long Fall Boot bumped something on the floor which rolled a bit, bouncing off the leg of the sofa with a click.

Curiosity flared again. Slowly, carefully, she reached down, trembling fingers closing around the object and bringing it to her eyes. She squinted at it for a moment, studying it. A memory trickled into her mind. A pen! This was a pen! She could use it to write... Carefully setting the book on her knees, she stared at the page in front of her. And then she began to write, completely unaware that the book she was holding could transmit her words to potentially thousands of people. And it wasn't even her best writing. The words were a scrawl, little better than a child's, some of the letters backward or up-side-down.]

What sort of test is this?

[OOC:: Feel free to creep into the lobby and bother her in person or over the journal. Isn't newbie confusion fun! Also, apologies for this post being so long.]

goodjumper

[ Her handwriting is still kind of childish-looking, scrawled and dipping below their lines at times. Still, it's a small improvement over how she wrote to begin with. If you try hard enough, you might even be able to tell what the poor test subject is trying to write. ]

What are you doing? These are animals. Not toys. Not test subjects. They should be free. They dont deserve this.

I will take any I see and let them go.

goodjumper

[ The metallic clack of her longfall boots is hard to ignore in the hallway. The sound bounces harshly off the floors and elegant walls, giving it an even more striking bite to the ears. Not that their wearer seems to notice. ]

[ Dazed, Chell wanders down the hallway, eyes turned to her surroundings. She's dirty, traces of white, orange, and blue gels still clinging to her messy pony tail. Her tank top looks as though it was originally white, but grime and singes from an explosion have dulled it to an off grey. The logo on the front is barely readable, though possibly recognizable by those who might know or have seen Wheatley and his Aperture lab coat. She keeps near the walls, scanning them for cameras. Corners are crossed with a check for red sighting lasers. ]

[ Whoever this new person is, it looks like she's been through hell and is just as jumpy. ]

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Paradisa

January 2015

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journal posts

Entries tagged with chell

015 - Munch Munch Munch (Backdated to yesterday)

014 - Sob (Backdated to directly after the Wonderland Plot end)

013 - Swoooosh

012 - Jingle Jangle (Backdated to late last night)

011 - Whoosh Splat

010 - Fa La La La La

009 - Achoo

008 - Grrrrrrrr

006 - Taptaptap

Case #13. The Elevator.

005 - Crunch (Backdated to this morning)

003 - Arf?

002 - Pop!

001

2nd Test // Written // Chell

1st Test // Action // Chell

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January 2015

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