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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Dear Multiverse's InsaneJournal:
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| Thursday, December 10th, 2009 | | 1:32 am |
hushaby, don't you cry... http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5045725.html Evalina Clarice is seated on a high-backed polished wooden chair with a lacy cushion of blue velvet underneath her. The color of the velvet exactly matches her wide, long-lashed eyes, and the ribbon on her pure white dress. Her long, curly golden hair is brushed neatly away from her face, though a few strands spiral over her shoulder and onto the pages of the large book of fairy tales she's reading. It's open to a page with a beautiful drawing of Sleeping Beauty, resting peacefully in her timeless chamber. Evalina Clarice smiles softly with red-painted lips at the painting, then slowly turns her gaze upwards. "Could someone please turn the page?" she inquires sweetly, her voice high, clear and chirping, like a bird. "I'm afraid it's a bit too much for me."For, you see, Evalina Clarice is a china doll, and is only thirteen inches tall. | | 1:32 am |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-09T21:43:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5045377.html There's a man in the Nexus. Not all that uncommon an occurrence. He's looking a little worse for wear - like he hasn't slept in a long, long time, and is in desperate need of some cigarettes and a shave. Also not that uncommon occurrence in these parts. He seems a bit twitchy, which tends to happen when you spend all of your time constantly looking over your shoulder and around damp corners in the dark. There's a wrench in his hands, which he turns over and over like a child with his favorite toy, transfixed. Obviously not the most talkative of guys, he mulls over his words for a long time before speaking.
"I don't know about you," Jack finally says, "but I don't believe in fate. Or I didn't. I don't know." He licks his cracked lips and shakes his head, like he's trying to clear a fog from his mind.
"You ever get that feeling? Like you're finally where you belong, even when where you are is a complete dump. A dangerous, rotting, soggy dump. And what's that say about a person, I wonder?" | | Wednesday, December 9th, 2009 | | 1:41 pm |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-09T17:43:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5045125.html A shadowed figure appears to be racing through a densely wooded forest, hoofs cleaving the ground as the white horse whirls to a halt, the black-robed rider glancing back and forth as though to gain bearings. Slipping a hand within velveteen folds, leathery fingers pluck out a glowing device, thumb scrolling through the writing on the screen before depositing it once more and taking up the reins, barely needing to do that much before the snorting beast hurries on its way under the dappled sunlight. The oddest thing, perhaps, is the lack of a saddle. | | 4:51 am |
& i'm not sorry that you're sorry. http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5044867.html SO. What is the best way that you have ever quit a job, ended a contract, took leave to save the universe, whatever? You get bonus points if your coworkers were involved somehow so you didn't screw them over.
I'm not allowed to quit, this will allow me to live vicariously through others. | | 2:18 am |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-09T01:49:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5044647.html Merrick went still as he looked around himself, uncertain of his surroundings. His back had stiffened, tension crawling across his shoulders as his hands instinctively curled into guarded fists. Once a warrior, always a warrior. With his eyes slightly narrowed, he pulled himself to his full height, feet braced, ready, shoulder-width apart. "What is this place?" he asked in a murmur, not willing to raise his voice further. It may be better, he thought, if he wasn't heard. | | 2:18 am |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-09T00:16:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5044471.html The man who steps into the Nexus is just that - one man, one hundred percent human. No special powers here. He looks tired, his face drawn and haggard, but for those who know the man, it might come as a surprise to see that he's not been at the scotch; he's not in a mood to get drunk today. He sinks into a nearby convenient Nexus couch, scrubbing a hand through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wants to ask 'Do you ever look in the mirror, an' wonder what you might have become, under different circumstances?' He doesn't ask that question, but instead leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and says, "Counterparts, an' alternate realities, that sort o' thing... Ever meet one, run intae one? An' if you have... If you have, what did you think o' it?" He looks like he wants to ask more, but he doesn't. He's seen what he's like in another universe. He's seen it, and lurking in the back of his mind is the worry that he could become that man. | | Tuesday, December 8th, 2009 | | 10:44 pm |
even christ himself would cringe at the sight of your scars http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5044047.html Well, what the Nexus was lacking today was its quota of half-naked underage strippers. So here you go: one Brody, currently female thanks to the cursed ring she (the pronoun we will henceforth be using because this shit is confusing) is wearing, in a bikini, a festive hat, and boots with a seven (yes, seven) inch heel. She is not doing anything to hide the bruises on her throat or right side right now. "So it's almost the end of the decade. What were you doing in January of 2000?" She rolls a toothpick between her teeth. "How do you think you conform to gender stereotypes?" These things are not related. ... are they? | | 10:44 pm |
Nexus Advent :: DAY SEVEN http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5043855.html Now decorated with scores of cookies and bearing many fruitcakes beneath its branches, the tree sits quite prettily in its corner of the Nexus. The snow has gone, replaced by a flowing red tree skirt that extends in a radius around the tree. One by one, packages begin appearing beneath the branches, among the plates and tins, giving the whole tree an appearance of being full.
The lights on the tree move from a shimmery rhythm to a 'steady on' setting, clearly awaiting the arrival of visitors.
[ OOC: This is DAY SEVEN of the Advent and the last day of the scavenger hunt and characters participating will be given their gift when they complete the last task set about by the tree. Players should be aware that there are six predetermined sorts of gifts the tree will give out today, depending on what wrapping/bow combination the character picks from under the tree. The combinations are as follows: blue, red, or green wrapping paper with silver or gold ribbon. Please select a wrapping/bow combination for your character.
All of the gifts are items with special qualities that will be described upon receipt. None of the special qualities are particularly harmful to a character and none will actually be forced onto a character unless the player chooses to acknowledge the object's quality in play. That said, the six different gift options won't be revealed OOC ... it's a surprise! ;) Each is meant to be fun and spice up play for this month. If your character doesn't like the gift, feel free to have them regift and come back to the tree for the next round of freebies! ] | | 9:45 am |
| | 4:05 am |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-08T03:06:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5043316.html There is a woman wandering around with an expression that is a perfect 50/50 of :O and :D. It's...pretty clear that she's new. She slips her shoes off to enjoy the grass, and sits down amidst some folded paper flowers that are growing in a field. They are gorgeous, and she must look at them and tell them so. "So how did all of you get here?" Her voice is dazed and dreamy, and it takes her a moment to look up from the flowers so that she's not just...talking to plants. And, for those sensitive to such things through whatever senses you choose to point at people, she has had a lot of pot recently. And quintessence. Ahem. | | 2:34 am |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-08T00:39:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5042970.html She'd spent the majority of the day wandering the nexus. Careful avoidance was practiced with places that got crowded, she simply wanted to find somewhere out of the way. There were too many people here that set off her ability, too many ways to get a terribly nagging headache.
Finally she gained a bit of luck in discovering an alcove littered with the various types of furniture one would expect of the place. The girl set her violin case atop a coffee table, opening it to look over her favorite possession. With fluid motion she takes up both instrument and bow. After checking the tuning she pauses, speaking aloud to herself.
"What should I play?" | | Monday, December 7th, 2009 | | 11:59 pm |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-07T20:03:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5042721.html Godric is slumped very casually on a plush couch, his bare feet kicked up on a long ottoman. He's dressed only in drawstring pants and a t-shirt so old and thin, it can't be anything less than obscenely comfortable, but it does very little in terms of modesty. The dark patterns of his tattoos are just visible beneath it. His hair is still damp from the long, steaming bath he'd indulged in mere moments ago. If he were human, he'd probably have a bowl of grapes. Since he's not, he has a glass of warm blood that he sips from as if it's cocoa. Hedonism, thy name is Godric. "Say you were to find yourself freed from all responsibilities and obligations, the path before you wiped clean. After lazing about for a time and enjoying doing nothing, what would your next step be? What new obligations would you take upon yourself? Please be as specific as you like." | | 10:28 pm |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-07T21:06:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5042550.html Emotionless child Colby is floating quietly over here in the corner, fidgeting with the bell around her neck. Her eyes are blank and she doesn't seem to notice anything going on around her. "How important are names, really?" She asks to no one in particular, staring off into space. | | 10:28 pm |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-08T03:02:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5042226.html Click-click-clack.
It was obvious from the off that the vampire, dapper in a New Age frock-coat of velvet-gold embroidery and led by beetle-black boots, was the epitome of high-fashion and supernatural gifts. What was not remained the anxiety laced throughout his system at the thought of being sundered from his loved ones, a casual slouch on display for anyone to see. Coming to halt by a public fountain, he perched on the curving stone edge and let glittering, glass-like nails filter through the water, sighing as he tilted his chin to gaze at the onset of twilight, the golden flare of a wavy mane coming loose from black silk until tugged free, shaken out over square shoulders.
He was tall, though by no means a towering giant, slender and classically handsome, perfectly at home tossing a careless smile at a few whispering girls as they peered down the street. He was also flaunting his presence; after so long having frequented nexuses it seemed a waste of time applying ash to darken his gleaming, poreless white skin, a living statue that conveyed anything but a mortal appearance.
Being in half a mind to go hunting the Evil-Doer, the first pangs of hunger served as a mild distraction from his new placement after too long having denied himself the Little Drink, yet he quashed them in favour of listening to the thoughts of the inhabitants, trying to glean a little information. He sent out a mental note to any immortals who might have had information to share, appearing ponderous to the naked eye where he sat with folded ankles and arms, a prayer on the wind infused with good intentions. | | 9:58 pm |
[text] http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5042057.html How did you wind up in your current career? Luck (good or bad), determination, practicality?
Everyone says things like 'you should follow your dreams, whatever they are!' or 'you can be anything you want!' but we all know that isn't really the case all the time outside Hallmark and kindergarten class. Given the option, what would you choose: a more satisfying profession with high risk in terms of your success or safety, or an acceptable one that guarantees you'll always have some way to work and make money?
Do you think that some people just aren't cut out for a normal job, or can anyone learn to integrate into mainstream society with enough help? | | 9:58 pm |
"A little man who's scared and blind, too lost to find the words he needs..." http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5041867.html The Doctor has been sitting here for quite some time, leaning over so his elbows are resting on his legs, fingers laced because he's got nothing better to do with his hands, eyes gazing straight ahead at absolutely nothing. It hardly seems the most comfortable way to sit on the wooden park bench, but he hardly seems like he cares. After all, he decided to sit on a wooden park bench instead of one of the many much more cushioned sofas or chairs that are around the Nexus. As has been said though, he hardly seems to care. He finally begins speaking. It's about time, he's been silent for the better part of a day. "How do you..." he begins, then stops, largely unsure of how best to word his thoughts. "What if -- if you've never been one to accept large responsibilities, and one day you suddenly have a rather large responsibility forced on you. And you don't want that responsibility, but on the other hand you know very well if it were up to anybody else you'd try your hardest to make it so that person didn't have to deal with the choice, and overall you're hoping it will never come down to it, but if it does you're glad it isn't a --" He stops, giving up. He sighs, then smiles a faint little smile. "I'm sorry, I'm not making much sense at all, am I?" | | 7:25 pm |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-07T18:30:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5041627.html Gwen is seated on a convenient couch with her feet propped up on a table, and in her hands rests a cup of hot coca to bring out the spirit of the season. She's got a smile on her face, as she prepares to ask everyone in the Nexus a question. "Alright, first time asking one of these, so be gentle." "A couple of questions, for those of you women with high risk jobs, how do you handle being pregnant? My boss has me on desk duty, and it's okay other than well the boredom. How do you cope? There's only so much daytime tv and paperwork that I can put up with," Gwen says with a grin, she places her hot coca down on an end table. "Cravings? What's the strangest thing you've had? I'm not at that point yet, just curious." | | 5:51 pm |
dear_multiverse @ 2009-12-07T17:40:00 http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5041157.html Zatoichi wanders in, a little unsteady on his feet. His cane is dragging beside him as it's held in his left hand, and he's careful about how he flops onto a nearby couch. He cinches up the front of his dirty kimono with his right hand, keeping it tightly closed. To anyone that would notice, there's the definite smell of blood on him; though, for Ichi, that's hardly uncommon. "So this kid ate me broke. Now this." He nods toward his left side vaguely. "I can't give massages like this. Anyone got any good ideas for a temporarily unemployed masseur to make ends meet?" ((Sorry for the tag delay, unexpected events. Back for good now.)) | | 1:36 am |
Don't You Be Tardy http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5041062.html It's a time when a lot of us have parties to attend, ja? Some good, some possibly good, some just from annoying obligations, some downright awful and full of baaaad consequences. But! If you could make a guest list of anybody you wanted, who would be on it and why? I mean, anyone: living, dead, estranged, met or unmet, without any of them battling each other... unless that's what you want. Who and why? | | 1:36 am |
Captain John is on his couch.... http://community.livejournal.com/dear_multiverse/5040700.html He has a spiffy gold card with red writing on it in hand. "Righto! I need an Eye Candy...a Ianto Jones. Not gonna do anything terrible to you, so don't be shy now!" He looks at the card again. "Oh, and anyone know where I can get an edible shirt...with buttons?" |
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