lowkeyangel: (☀ a-hah!)
[personal profile] lowkeyangel
[If you think you can hear music, that's probably because you can. If you're paying attention to your comm, or you're near a certain hallway of the mansion, at least. The tune may or may not sound familiar, but it's most definitely coming from a sudden forest that seems to have sprouted up overnight.

Well. Maybe 'field' is a better term.

It's no ordinary field, of course. Those giant roses, daffodils, tulips and pansies (and many more) are definitely the ones doing the singing. And they have very fine voices indeed, harmonizing together and swaying with the beat. In fact, the flowers spill farther than just the one hallway, but not too much. The main issue here is that the flowers are as big as dinner plates, and they seem to have faces of a sort. But some lie in piles of petals - Wonderland's already started to beat them back, it seems. You may find navigating the hallway to be difficult, given that the flowers seem intent on swaying with anyone who strolls by.

The creator of this chaos is sitting, casually, in a lawn chair next to a blue pansy.]


I hear they take requests. But you'd have to ask them.

[Apparently Gabriel's tired of the blood and confusion and has gone right for balancing it out with silly.]
onsilksheets: (pic#3852512)
[personal profile] onsilksheets
[Before making any kind of public address, Bela found herself in one of the tea rooms at random whilst she was exploring her new found 'home.' The truth was, she had been here about two days, spending most of her time snooping rather than speaking to anyone else. But one could only find out so much by themselves before they were forced to ask around.

When the feed clicks on, it shows Bela with a china cup in one hand and a biscuit in the other. She's attractive, her hair a light brown colour and if you looked close enough you'd notice the greenness of her eyes. Bela finishes the biscuit off, taking delicate, ladylike bites from it before brushing the crumbs away.

Now she's ready to talk.
]

What kind of place doesn't have an exit? That's something I've been asking myself the past few days while I was exploring this quaint little mansion.

[The English accent is clear and for once Bela isn't faking one nor playing a role. She is serious this time.]

It's beginning to frustrate me, being unable to go back the way I came. I can't stay here, I refuse to and I need to know the way out. [She holds back, reigning her anger in as much as possible. Not a good way to endear people to her, even if she didn't particularly care about their opinion.]

Now if anyone could help a girl out, I'd be ever so grateful.

[The last part is overly sweet and sickeningly so. Completely unlike her.]


((ooc:Feel free to action it up in the tea room! :D))
exvampirate: (1)
[personal profile] exvampirate
[ There's a dirty face on the screen now. He looks less put together and the hat and sunglasses he sports are missing. He's already dropped his things back in his room and now he's just making the announcement. He probably should have said something when he went AWOL, but he could just feel it getting worse. Didn't matter that he had people willing to donate and a blood blank of sorts starting up. Being a vampire and being surrounded by people in a home on a daily basis was hard. Drinking live was different from drinking from a blood bag. Richer. Fuller. The predator part was just as satisfied. He was the one starving to be let out and Benny needed some alone time to get things under control so he left. It was simpler.

He doesn't stay on the screen very long though. He's quiet as if he's trying to think of some way to apologize for being out of communication for so long. He'd probably take some heat from Dean, but just because that big lug could get pretty worried. ]
I--um. [ The screen went blank suddenly and he shook his head. Showering was his next task. He'd try explaining things a little later. He somehow didn't know if he could deal with the line of questions that'd come with his disappearance.

Benny showered a little longer than needed, but it was just another stall tactic. Once he was dressed he turns his device on and swallows hard. ]
Awful sorry I went missin' on some of you folks. I just needed a little bit of time on my own. Had to sort through some things. It ain't easy bein' a bloodsucker surrounded by all you folks. Needed to clear my head. So--I'm sorry.
perceptum: → easystreet (Default)
[personal profile] perceptum
[ There's no warning as the audio starts, and it seems very likely that River isn't actually addressing the network at large at all. It cuts in mid sentence, to the rustling sound of movement and near incoherent rambling from River. ]

-but it wasn't meant to go like this. What went wrong? Something went wrong, was it her calculations? The numbers twisted and broke and now so much is lost and how are they supposed to find out why? Pushed too hard and too fast, why did he let her try? Why did I try?

[ She stops talking very abruptly, exhales slowly, and then for the first time actually sounds like she's talking to the network, like it isn't just an accidental pick up of a private conversation featuring one. ]

She's sorry. She didn't- it wasn't meant to happen. So, so sorry.

[ Without any indication of who she's apologising to, she cuts the feed. ]
ofletters: (it isn't me the enemy)
[personal profile] ofletters
People really do come and go without warning, huh?

For those who knew him, John Winchester's gone. Home, I guess.

...

People who've been here a long time, or who've been told they were here before: I've got a few questions. Was there ever a time you got thrown back home and kept some of what you learned here? Any of the memories, anything?

And-- If there's someone here who can mess with that kind of stuff--memories--let me know. Just trying to sort something out, take notes, the usual. But it's important.
aslandish: (Sunlight)
[personal profile] aslandish
[ The video opens in darkness, the only sound to be heard the gentle movement of waves lapping against the shore. However, the very moment a tinge of light begins to creep over the horizon, a Voice begins to sing.

It is a Song the likes of which few have ever heard before. It rises as the light grows stronger, swelling with the tide and soaring as a bird may fly. It resonates in the air as well as the earth, a happy sound that could make even the most solemn of men dance to its melody.

The brightness of the morning spills over the waves, glistening with the newness of day. The Song crescendos finally as the sun peaks in the sky, only to diminish and fade into the sounds of the sea.

A few moments pass before the Singer finally appears. Great paws, golden and velveted all, appear first as he steps into view. A large, shaggy lion pads silently to the water edge, the breeze rustling its mane.

He stands there for a little while before turning and walking down the beach. ]



[ ooc: Please have a look at Aslan's PERMISSIONS POST before tagging! Aslan will be wandering around the beach as well as the outside part of the grounds all day. Feel free to run into him! He will respond to this video as well. Also, if you think your character might be able to detect/discern Aslan's true nature, feel free to have them do so! ]
thepointisdolphins: (snakes hate winter)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
Right, that does it. I need to speak to this other fellow in this G--h--utterly stupid place who goes by my name. That would be this Crowley bloke. Whoever he is, he is ruining my good name and I won't stand for it anymore.

And just for the record, I am not that Crowley. I clearly don't even know him.
no_nonsense: (This happens a lot I'm afraid.)
[personal profile] no_nonsense
[Susan normally liked to appear very pressed and presentable when she was in Public. While there was a distinctive difference between the magical network and Public, it wasn't quite distinctive enough for her liking. However, disheveled as she was, she had other, more pressing concerns than the state of her hair or the fact that her shirt was stained beyond saving.

(Well, the second bit was relevant, at least, given that it was stained with a generous amount of her own blood.)

Susan took a deep breath and regarded the screen with the most neutral expression she could manage. She wanted nothing more than to pass out, or whine about the wound in her back, but both of those activities were (ultimately) counter-productive. It didn't do to go unconscious or start panicking people, particularly when you were asking them for medical help.]


I seem to be having a bit of trouble.

[Given how pale she was, this was a fairly serious understatement. She was seated at the table in a cheerfully decorated tea room and, although she wasn't actually lying on it, it was a near thing.]

I would walk to the clinic to get this sorted, but I'm afraid I'm having difficulty staying upright.

If there is anyone with a bit of...first-aid experience near the tea-room on the first floor, I would be much obliged if they could see to stopping by. [And, because she was quite certain that the blast in her room hadn't done anything as convenient as killing Mr. Teatime, she added:] If you've got a sword as well, and the know-how to weild it, that would be ideal.

(OOC: So, generally speaking, the people involved in the Action portions of this have already discussed it with me on Plurk, but absolutely anyone and everyone is welcome to answer the video posting. Susan will ICly decline any Magic or Magic-like assistance, though, so if your character would spot this and would definitely offer to help that way, feel free to tag in! It won't derail anything, no worries.)

video;

Jun. 28th, 2013 01:32 pm
elegance_guaranteed: (Want to meet my knife?)
[personal profile] elegance_guaranteed
[This is the expression of a child who just got what he wanted for Christmas, set on a face that would have been suitably boyish if his eyes had not been quite so unnerving. One was a dark grey marble and the other, unnaturally pale with a tiny pinhole pupil. An indistinct feeling of discomfort generally accompanies those who stare at him too long.]

A new scrying stone in my pocket and a new sword? I do hope that everybody's Hogswatch was as happy as mine.
strongeralone: (single mantear; sad)
[personal profile] strongeralone
[The sounds of a room getting violently trashed echo across the corridor of the  fifth floor. John doesn't have too much in his room, but everything that's there MUST SUFFER. 

Because that goddamn thing just won't.shut.up, and even worse - it won't die. He's been cooped up in his room since it emerged, terrified of the prospect of anyone hearing what that thing has to  say, terrified by the sight of those yellow eyes looking calmly back at him from his own face.

The last time his eyes gleamed yellow, his sons almost died. 

And as if things weren't bad enough, the device that's landed somewhat safely on his bed decides that the world needs to be privy to his meltdown, and it needs to see it in full video. From its angle, it catches two sets of legs with some of the torso, identically clad. One is moving almost frantically, and hurls a nightstand against the other; a nightstand that just bounces back and smashes against the wall, as words are continually spoken in an irritating calmness.]


She'll never love you, you know. Neither will they. Nobody loves a broken man, he only gets just enough pets to keep him calm, like an old mutt who won't stop pissing on the carpet.

I told you - 

And one of these days, they're gonna get damn tired of cleanin' that mess up, 

to shut the hell up already!  [a chair goes the same way as the nightstand]

 you know they will. And you know what happens to an old dog who outlives his use. The only decent thing left for you to do is save th- 

[A lamp is thrown and crashes into the device when it boomerangs off the shadow, crashing it to the floor and cutting the feed.

Outside room 112, noises can still be heard.]


writeswrongs: (huh)
[personal profile] writeswrongs
[The feed starts by showing an extreme closeup of a man's face, mostly nose and eyes, then the shot zooms out. Looking back at you is a rather handsome middle aged man with a confused look on his face.]

So.. uh.. I'm not sure what this is, but.. I guess I checked into some sort of hotel?

[There's a bed and some floral wallpaper in the background. Not exactly his personal styling choices.]

Anyway, I'm looking for a woman named Kate Beckett. She's tall, brunette, really hot, kind of standoffish. She proooobably checked in with me. At least I'm guessing so. She also might have drugged me because I've never seen this place in my life. Either that or someone else drugged me. Anyway…. answers? If someone is seeing this?

[He nods, then clicks off the feed.]
akapeanut: (Lemme think about that)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[George has been thinking...

With Death personified literally here and all. And she hasn't reaped a single person since her own event. And since dying works differently anyway here.

Maybe her powers don't work anymore?

And Death said he'd protect her, so. Maybe she can just...ask?]


I want to test something. I need somebody to help, though. Someone who's got a soul. [Which isn't a given anymore, probably.] I'll let you know what we're doing later. [Can't be taking too many risks, after all. The soul thing is weird enough.]

...Later.

[click.]
justguidelines: (☠ all I feel is hollow and bruised)
[personal profile] justguidelines

[The feed cuts on more by accident than anything, as the little device is put to the side and left there, because Hector's poked at it, found it to be of absolutely no use to him, and forgotten about it just that quickly.

Instead, he's more interested in the pool. It's man-made, he knows that; he's not ignorant, after all, but the water filling it seems off, despite being as clear as from any spring. It smells...Bad. Artificial. Not at all like water should, if he's being honest. It's a chemical smell, though he doesn't know what, and he can't for the life of him, as he settles back onto his haunches, resting his arms across his knees, figure out why someone would fill a pool such as this with water such as that. Poisoned? Could be. One arm drops from his knee and he dangles a long-nailed finger over the water, debating.

Two fingers break the surface, and he holds them there for several long moments, his face not registering the surprise he feels at the warmth of it. That is very odd, because even the warmest puddles in the Caribbean never reach that kind of temperature on the hottest of days.

His fingers dabble a few more moments before he eyes them and sticks them in his mouth. Just like that. And when he removes them he spits to the side opposite of the device, before giving a snort.]
Aye, poison. As I thought. Though why some fool'd waste time filling a pool with it be beyond my thinking.

[He wipes his hand on his jacket and stands, looking out over the pool. He'd love an explanation for this. He really would, as to why his crew, the two greenhorns from Port Royal, the goddess, and his monkey are all missing. They're bound for Singapore, hadn't even left Tortuga, and yet...

Here he is, standing over a pool of poisoned water. His luck, really, is not improving much even uncursed.

Of course, there are also the lights, but that's another kettle of weird fish, and he's nearly has his daily fill for it. Those he'll leave well enough alone.]

emboldened: (Default)
[personal profile] emboldened
[ He's perfectly used to the sound of his own voice as well as his image reflecting on the screen of the little palm pilot. Jim seems perfectly natural at that, holding it up, despite it not quite matching the communicators or PADDs that he's used to. The man is in the yard on the outskirts of the grounds, looking a little bewildered, a little confused. He's familiar with strange surroundings, being in a new place that's yet to be discovered - what he hasn't realized quite yet is what and where this place is. Kirk seems to be looking up at the sky that stretches above the grounds, blue eyes squinting to try to see if he can spy a starship in the sky. Mumbling comes from him, something that sounds remarkably like: ] Likely not able to be visible in any case, atmospheric cover is too thick, jamming the signal? [ He's talking to himself, walking over the grass, taking a deep breath of air that tastes like Earth's. Seems a bit otherworldly nonetheless, something about it just feels...sort of...fantastical. ]

Enterprise, do you read me? [ Louder than the mumbling, in fact he's speaking directly into the device. Though it seems he's not very sure what he's referring to, not quite aware of the place he's been beamed down to. Wasn't he beamed down? He's having a bit of difficulty remembering exactly how he's gotten to this world, this planet he's deemed already as alien and foreign. ]

Captain's Log, date..to be determined. I'm without a landing party, which is weird if you ask me. Not...very sure where I am. Nor how I got here. I remember... well it seems a little foggy at the moment, not sure if that's a side-effect of the planet, perhaps? [ It's just then that he glances behind him to the looming mansion. ] Fairly certain it's inhabited, but question still stands - with who, and with what?
no_nonsense: (Med - Tell me this is a joke.)
[personal profile] no_nonsense
[Susan was no stranger to curious, mystical books. She wasn't entirely certain how the one in her hands worked, per say, but she charged ahead anyway. She'd gotten the thing open without incident and, while it was acting a bit suspiciously, it hadn't exploded or given her a migraine, yet.

So, that was somewhat encouraging.]


Seeing as I can't remember how I suddenly found myself wandering a picturesque garden, I can only assume that something magical has happened.

[Although she'd definitely said "magical", something in the way she'd said it made it sound an awful lot like "troublesome".]

Naturally, I would like an explanation but, failing that, I would appreciate it if someone could direct me to the nearest Wizard.

[video]

May. 23rd, 2013 07:09 pm
goesdown: (You can just do what you do best)
[personal profile] goesdown
Much as I love drinking endless scotch and reading entire libraries by the fire, I have to wonder if there isn't anything more productive I could be doing with my time here. Does anyone have any interesting suggestions?

And I just want to state, for the record, that I had nothing to do with Dean Winchester disappearing. In fact, I'd very much like him back.

[ Well, that's a stretch, but he can use any ally he can get with Lucifer lurking around, right? Dean will probably come around eventually. ]

So if anyone's seen him, maybe they can share with the class on that one.
freetobe: ([thinking] hm)
[personal profile] freetobe
[If one were to retrace the events in an attempt to find a culprit to blame, they could go so far as to point a finger at Gabriel, who had the brilliant idea of getting his siblings drunk. How he could not foresee the disastrous results of such an idea is anyone's guess at this point. Regardless, if one wished to find a source for what happened Tuesday night, they would have to look no further than dear Gabriel.

The facts are these: Castiel is drunk. Really, really drunk. Apparently giving a fallen angel access to unlimited alcohol supplies and having him drink with his older siblings, whose tolerance is supernaturally (heh) higher than his was not the best course of action. Countless bottles, shots, glasses and questionably colored drinks later, the usually reserved angel of the Thursday is something of a hot mess, inhibitions lowered, shame non-existent, creativity stoked by his older brothers.

Yes, at some point Balthazar and Castiel may have abducted some poor mattress and used it to slide down several flights of stairs. They're very noble beings, these angels.

Most importantly it should be noted that over the course of the evening, Castiel has taken to texting. Apparently even angels have the brilliant notion to attempt such feats when enough barrels of alcohol are poured into them and their judgement is muddled. Therefore, various text messages have found their way to various people. Some Castiel knows, some he doesn't. Most of the time he just pressed shiny buttons, leading to the text messages arriving in the inboxes of unrelated people. The spelling is atrocious, the meaning is basically non-existent, the intent mostly questionable. But more than that, a drunk Castiel is easily enabled, it would seem - and several people might find supposedly hilarious pranks have been pulled on them.

Enjoy, Wonderland. And really, keep him away from the drinks in the future.]


((OOC: There will be several top-level comments with texts. I'm not specifying a recipient. If anything tickles your fancy, feel free to assume your character received it and just respond to it! And yes, Castiel is still drunk when he replies to it, of course. Where's the fun in sober? Multiple characters can tag into each thread, and characters are allowed to tag into multiple threads, of course. In addition, if you want Cas to have played a "prank" on your character, poke me and we can set up an action log for that, too. Enjoy~))
thepalehorseman: (you should be running)
[personal profile] thepalehorseman
[Since Death is unaccustomed to hiding himself for fear of anything or anybody in existence, he does little to care about whether his face appears on this device. The device itself is nothing new to him. He may not use one since there is no reason normally, but technology like this has always been easily studied. It comes with the territory of being as old as he is.

Oh, is he ever not pleased with this situation. Irritation is evident on his face as he sits there a moment and gives a small shake of his head. This is all he needs is to be in the middle of yet another little matter he has to tweak. He is not in the mood for it now and he would not have been even before this after what happened.]


As I told the last fool that did something against my will, this is not going to end well. Whatever spell or elaborate little illusion this is, it will have a weakness. You will find that my patience is stretched thin. If this is about a deal then I implore you to reconsider for your own health.

[Not that he cares what happens to somebody that gets in his way in such an invasive manner. His dark eyes center on the screen, not an ounce of amusement evident there. Somebody's idea of a joke or not, he is considering if this place can grow on him in a way. Though he is asking for a scapegoat, he is not under a binding spell as far as he is aware of.]

This is the part where I expect an acceptable explanation.

Tags

LAYOUT BASE @ [community profile] fruitstyle