larkers: (WARBLER)
MEADOWLARK MODS ([personal profile] larkers) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarklogs2020-11-21 12:11 pm

EVENT #011

WHO: Everyone on Earth in Meadowlark's world.
WHERE: The Aerie, a different world.
WHEN: Late July 2512.
WHAT: The first log of our AU event, taking place in an AU world that puts on battle royale events to cull the massive overpopulation.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Overwritten minds, horrible dystopian conditions, and more!

> EVENT #011

On the morning of July 26th, every living person on Earth will be spirited away from where they were mere moments before. Just like that. Hover cars will descend slowly in transit, trains will come to a stop without a screech of their breaks, and the streets throughout every single of the 104 megacities will be left barren, empty, and lifeless. Even those lost and hidden, not seen for months, are swept gently away with the rest of their brethren. No stone will go unturned.

The world upon their return may pick up where it's left off, or it will be changed in some way. Will it be July 26th when everyone finds themselves back where they were standing before? Or will something else happen during this time? Now that the supposed lifeblood of this planet is gone, what will happen in their absence? The world may not be able to go on how it had been.

Perhaps the more terrifying question is this: if something is powerful enough to steal away every person, every single one capable of thought, ideas, conflict, war, and more, what else could happen?

Perhaps it's for the best that it may be awhile before anyone has to worry about that.

For now, they've entered a world that's one week away from its next Quarry event: a place where The Aerie's criminals fight to prove they deserve to keep their life.

> THE WORLD ENDS WITH YOU (THE AERIE)

The Aerie is a structure that should not exist.

Made of steel and concrete, it gives off the impression that its guts were arranged haphazardly, as if an amateur surgeon had pulled them out and tried to put them back in again. Steel beams stretch out between buildings, connecting them together. There may have been a wall of concrete around this beam once upon a time, but it splintered and fell away, exposing its insides and opening up a pathway that people have taken for granted in the past fifty to a hundred years. Power lines hang in loose tangles throughout this little world, ready to fall away at the slightest breeze, then splinter and spark.

Most of the insides of The Aerie are barely preserved. Trying to do that would be an impossible task: there are too many people, too many who live in concrete layered on one another like stacks of broken shelves, too many who pass through open maws of ruptured pathways, crawling up onto the roof of a business for what they think is a shortcut to a higher level. Brittle walls that splinter off into clouds of chalky white dust are everywhere and anywhere.

How The Aerie came together was once a majestic feat: a place for people to live, thrown together as extinction surged forward like a towering beast on the horizon. There was a mix of minds behind the action, as well as a hollow sense of desperation. Even those who brought The Aerie into being knew that their lives were on the line. It was a matter of "make this work" or die. So, they made it work.

What's truly impossible about The Aerie isn't the hulking structures merged together at all manner of impossible angles, but the outer layer of this little world, looming overhead in shimmering, constant glory. The people of The Aerie are protected, safe; the world outside is a nebulous, uncertain mess of greys and greens and reds and blues. Storms surge just outside of the wall of The Aerie with sharp, constant bolts of lightning that batter the surface overhead. Once upon a time, the people of this little world feared those bolts cutting through and destroying their home. But it's been long enough now. No one lives in fear of what's outside, and no one wonders, not anymore. After all, the people who made it outside were never seen again. For a time, some people could watch through the clear walls as these escapees' bodies turned to irradiated mush with only bones left behind. In time, those bones withered away to dust. And with them, their memories were forgotten.

Within The Aerie, life goes on, just as it must: riddled with fear, with survival often depending on the ability to escape notice.

Only two parts of The Aerie remain unscathed, untouched by the passage of time and haphazard construction of this refuge:

The Volary, which stands tall and pristine at the heart of The Aerie. Lights burn within The Volary all day and all night, showing signs of life that most of the people outside of its walls will never see for themselves.

And then the Quarry, a structure built in haste and out of necessity. The same people who brought The Aerie together also made the Quarry. At its base are a series of office buildings, setting up monthly arena events where the guilty fight to show that they deserve to survive.

These two things are the source of all the fear in The Aerie. It's what keeps everyone's mind off the crumbling walls, the storms outside, and the miserable, unending passage of time.

> SOAK UP THE GLORY (THE VOLARY)

When The Aerie came into being, so did The Volary. Far from fragmented like the rest of this tiny, tiny world, it stands pristine, with brown bricks lining its exterior, and strong steel beams holding it strong within. Either through its making or its care, The Volary hasn't suffered from the hands of time like the rest of the world. Anyone outside of The Volary doesn't know the truth, though they could likely guess.

Inside of The Volary lives the members of Parliament: the newly-joined Magpies, the comfortable Rooks, and the looming and most powerful, the Cardinals.

The Cardinals live at the very top. Even after over two hundred years, the Cardinals remain impenetrable. New members are accepted into their ranks from time to time, granted secrets of a bygone era, but the rest of the world remains ignorant to their knowledge. At the heart of this structure is a cult, a belief system; they are the ones who decide if The Aerie lives or dies. For now, it continues to live. Of course, any other path would lead to their devastation as well. They may be nearly immortal, but they aren't truly untouchable and eternal.

Beneath them are the rest of Parliament, cocky in their comfort. Many were born into it, but some were raised into the ranks, finding their own footholds. Sometimes these elevations seem random; sometimes these promotions happen with purpose, with someone driving to catch the eye of a Rook who's looking for someone like-minded to have around them.

Outside of the Magpies, the Rooks that were once Magpies, and the once-members of The Congregation outside, everyone seems blissfully ignorant of the dilapidated world outside. There are some workers from the outside world who know, and some Carrion lucky to have their place among the elite—but there is a sense that some things shouldn't be spoken about, or else they may need to be responsible for it all. While the outside begins to age without any sign of renewal, this compound lives on—untouched, unbothered.

The Volary is set up in levels. The very bottom is where all the businesses that serve the people up above are located. It's where animals are raised and butchered, and where food is prepared before it's brought up to the upper levels. There are numerous common areas, but these can be rented out for any whim of any members of Parliament. Even the businesses themselves can be shuttered for the day, with preferred chefs invited to the upper levels to prepare meals to deal with these circumstances. (Someone from the Congregation can train as a chef in the Cotillion, even if they've never handled food of this nature their entire lives. It's a good job to have, as a number of favored chefs have been elevated to Magpies.)

Beyond the shops is the first level of living quarters for the various members of Parliament. Many Magpie and Rook suites are side by side, though some Rooks prefer not to be housed next to a newcomer and have made their preference known throughout the years. These suites are designed and adapted to its inhabitant's every need, and if someone is born into the family, they inherit their family's suite once someone dies. How is it that there could be space for all the members of Parliament, and so little room outside of the walls of this compound? Consider that yet another question that members of Parliament don't need to concern themselves with.

At the uppermost levels are the suites belonging to the Cardinals. Unless explicitly invited, no one is allowed onto these floors. Numerous Carrion have died throughout the years because they wandered up the wrong set of stairs, knowing that risk was looming over them.

And at the very top is where The Conclave meets. Newly elected members of Parliament visit this room once to receive their powers, only they recall nothing. No one knows what happens within the inner walls of The Conclave. Some have attempted to spy throughout the years. Needless to say, that didn't go well.

The Volary is the home of the pampered, the rich: the people who can ignore the dying world beyond them. Even those inheriting a sense of importance feel as if they've done enough—when they clearly don't do enough. At least those stuck outside may find themselves walking through the heavy front doors of this compound one day. Too bad it's based upon the powers of Parliament, and whether they deign to let someone inside. The only good news is that someone can be buzzed in via their power. That gives a real personal touch, right?

> NO WAY TO LIVE (THE CONGREGATION)

Outside of The Volary, The Aerie is set up in sectors, these sectors acting like rings that move further and further from The Volary up and down throughout The Aerie. Almost by necessity, the rings closer to The Volary are populated by Parliament's favorites. The upkeep around here is better: not pristine, but far from as bad as it gets as someone travels to the outer sectors. Many who have made a name for themselves in the Quarry live in these inner sectors, close to the people of Parliament. Many believe that the inner sectors are still tended to because members of Parliament would hate to face up to the fact of their world dying, and it may not be far from the truth.

In addition to better upkeep, the inner sectors experience less Shrike patrols, with the people allowed to live a life that allows them to remain ignorant to the world around them. They may not be Parliament, but their life in these sectors affords them the feeling of comfort. They don't have to fear their ceiling caving in; they don't have to fear a pipe bursting at an unfortunate moment; they don't have to fear wrongful arrest because they looked at someone the wrong way. It takes a lot for those from the inner sectors to have their lives ruined—but it's not exactly impossible. Of course, this is also where The Cotillion is kept, with numerous buildings and dormitories maintained for its students.

The further and further someone goes away from The Volary, the more life within The Aerie becomes difficult. The worst part is this: no one knows any better. They know the crumbling walls, the faded and peeling wallpaper, the revealed steel beams. They know the frequent Shrike patrols. They know that if they commit a crime, it's on them: they deserve whatever comes their way.

How does someone work in order to get by in these outer sectors? They can help man the bars, because drinking is as much a way of life here as it is back in the regular world. They can help upkeep of The Aerie. Someone can easily enter a trade alongside their compulsory schooling, especially if they aren't special enough for Cotillion training. Electricians are needed throughout. Maintenance of trains is needed throughout. Plumbers are needed throughout. And rations? They come by way of processing plants connected to hydroponic farms. More than a few times throughout the years, these plants have suffered breakdowns, and there have been ration shortages. But don't worry: Parliament continued on eating as if nothing changed outside.

Rations are given out three times a day through numerous rations checkpoints in each sector. These rations are like tasteless protein bars: enough to provide someone the meal they need, a bland mixture of carbohydrates, protein and fat sprinkled with essential nutrients, and little more. Attempts to make them more flavorful throughout the years have failed. Badly. It's probably better that they're bland little morsels. The good news is that they're filling. That may be the only good news.

Life isn't all misery and pain, even if job prospects are largely unfortunate if you're nothing special and the food is literally nothing to talk about. There is a thriving popular culture within The Congregation. There are numerous television shows and movies depicting the distant past, or even a brighter present: one in which the people of The Congregation managed to come together and make their lives better. Oddly enough, these don't tend to act as propaganda. They're just badly written, but done with an eye on hope and perhaps a better life. There are sports and games, though no official leagues have started up, almost certainly because they would compete with the Quarry for airtime.

Members of the Congregation are able to travel anywhere they like within The Aerie thanks to trains, with the only sector the train lines don't access being The Volary. They can peer down over the city, seeing a blurry line of grey all merging together, with people living their lives as best as they can. These trains go near the surface of The Aerie, too, granting someone a close up of the world outside, and reminding them that life could be much, much worse. It could be gone altogether.

> SO SHALL IT BE (QUARRY PREPARATIONS)

With one week remaining until the next Quarry event, preparations continue within The Company's headquarters. Located at the base of the arena out of necessity, The Company's offices are pristine and lifeless in nature. White walls, white ceiling tiles, and white chairs: nothing varies from anything else. How does it remain so surgical at all times? One can only wonder.

Numerous Quarries are being prepared at any given moment, with the televised sensations planned months in advance. Some plans are scrapped depending on competitors. Given the recurrence of Snipes, there are moments where plans need to be changed, where tension needs to be brought in. An arena designer may have to scrap his entire vision for a backup plan.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—The Company is a well-oiled machine. Need some crunch time to make sure a Quarry event is ready on time? The underlings at The Company are used to working long, long days to make it work.

The Quarry this time around is unknown, though there are suspicions of what it might be.

As for those waiting to enter the ring: they're free to live their lives, but many of them are undergoing talent training and preparation for the big event. They're going through interviews, getting sized for any costumes, and being asked to tell their stories. Some of the Snipes may be more than ready for this, while the Guineas will need to figure this out for themselves.

> A WILL TO FIGHT (THE KESTRELS)

Littered throughout the Congregation is a group that's been budding for a while. As much as this world is all they've known, there are some who believe that they deserve something better. The Quarry is unfair, and all throughout the many sectors, there are signs that The Aerie is breaking down and dying, barely keeping it together. These are people who may be afraid, but want to fight despite that fear.

Some of them have made themselves known: bearing a tattoo of a kestrel where others can see. Others hide who they are, but they're waiting. Planning. They strike when they can, but they know that time is running out. There are tiny safehouses throughout, typically through hatches underneath small local businesses that are sympathetic to the kestrels themselves. These people aren't members, but they put themselves at risk every day to protect this movement.

So, they have their sights set on this upcoming Quarry. It's time to bring change to The Aerie—or die trying.

> GOALS FOR THIS LOG

Either through talking ICly or OOCly, we'd like to have the following goals outlined and submitted to our comments below:

What is the Kestrels' plan in all of this? What do they intend to do?
This can include trying to find and meet with Prometheus, just as a note! Overall, we'd like an idea of what they'll be attempting with the upcoming Quarry so that we can work it into the next log.

What is the theme for the next Quarry arena?
We'd like to have some idea of a theme, as well as some submitted puzzles! We know that we're the kings of Vague Ass Puzzles, so feel free to be vague. We just want to give our Quarry participants something to look forward to.

Are there any other factors we need to consider?
Parliament upheaval? Plans to find out what Parliament is doing? Anything else that might come to mind? This is more loose!

We're giving a loose deadline of DECEMBER 7 with the next log going up on DECEMBER 12.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome to part one of our year-end AU event! We meant for this to be primarily be a description log to start play, especially since we feel that most of our critical information is in our Planning Post. We suggest that you do any necessary planning there for your select crews there, as well as use the "DM" system on Warbler for private stuff.

Of course, our questions thread is still open.

Since it's come up in the past: since all characters are in the AU, please feel free to do a catch-all post of anything you might want! Flashbacks! Anything open prompt-wise! Go wild with this stuff. This is always available during events, but we wanted to be explicitly clear here given the nature of this event.

As for mod-run social media, we have a post here on the network where we'll be steadily adding things throughout the event!

Our November Activity Check goes live on DECEMBER 1. AC for the month of December will be check-in only. It's a weird holiday season, but it will undoubtedly still be stressful for all of us.

Our next reserves will open on NOVEMBER 23 and our next application period will open on DECEMBER 1. We intend for all new or returning applicants to be kept outside of the AU. We have a special plotting opportunity and NPC ready for this scenario to help people integrate. However, if you have a friend who's apping to tap into the AU, let us know—we're not 100% married to our plans, but we worried about any new players apping into such a convoluted scenario after so much plotting has already taken place.

That's all for now. Have fun and for those of you who celebrate, have a Happy Thanksgiving! 🦃

championofsnark: (side eye)

[personal profile] championofsnark 2020-12-07 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
[Hawke does manage to stand up but she's very unhappy about it. Normally she doesn't consume too much, but last night they were really on a roll and she was bored as fuck waiting for the quarry to start already. She wants Wade to win so she can lord it over everyone again, but she anticipation's not as fun as the experience.

She answers the door with a drink in one hand and his sunglasses on the top of her head. She found a pair of her own to hide bloodshot blue eyes behind, and she's casually attired in what is essentially lingerie or glorified sleepwear. But they've all known each other forever and therefore she has zero shame when it comes to them.]


I remember outrageously little of last night.
stabsbooks: (pic#10231030)

[personal profile] stabsbooks 2020-12-07 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
She makes a disgusted noise, rolling her eyes. Of course, the famous all-night parties. Cassandra herself avoids them as much as possible, though she does her best to ensure that when Marian does attend, she's sticking to places and company where she'll be safe and secure.

But despite her insistence that she needs to get to work, despite the fact that she knows Marian's teasing her, still hiding the shoe behind her back...she's not immune to the sight before her, her lover's body half-tangled in the sheets, all plush, supple skin and languid limbs. Her breath catches, just a bit, when Marian's blue eyes travel appreciately over her own bare chest, and when she reaches out to run her fingers so lightly along her jawline, Cassandra finds herself sliding down to half-sit on the bed, just to be that much closer. one foot tucked underneath her and the other still dangling down to the floor.

"My eternal gratitude."

She keeps her tone firm and professional, still trying to convince herself if not both of them that she's simply going to retrieve her things and be gone, but she's not looking at the shoe anymore.
stagethreeclinger: (29)

[personal profile] stagethreeclinger 2020-12-07 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ roy is angry, and roy loses a lot of his charm and amicable cheer when he's angry, jumping to lashing out and blame fast. everyone has their nasty sides - this is his. ]

Clearly.

[ no, not the response roy wants, but the second part of it shines a little more light. whatever happened with brady, roy wasn't inside the loop for, so the only responsible party roy sees left is sam. it's still early, and he hasn't gotten all the information he should. were it anyone else, some stranger, or acquaintance, he'd likely have gone through the right process before exploding. but this is different - this is kyna. ]

Come for you for what? [ there's a reason sam never seems to say what roy wants to hear, but it has much less to do with sam's actions and more to do with his attachment to kyna. it's not fair, or right, but it is what it is. ] What did you do, Sam?

[ if she just became scapegoat for a crime sam pulled, so help him... ]
stagethreeclinger: (87)

[personal profile] stagethreeclinger 2020-12-07 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ roy gets the morbid humor, and huffs a laugh. what else can they do when faced with stuff like this? cry, scream, beg for their life? pointless. may as well laugh yourself to the grave. sad that this is their reality, but until they find a path to a better one, this is it.

with hope, lance's shrike training will serve him well, and he'll make it out the other side. he's hoping for it. ]


How am I doing? [ roy snorts, shaking his head and crossing his arms across his chest, ] Man, compared to you guys, I'm peachy.

[ not the most convincing of assertations, because he's not that peachy, but roy refuses to focus on his own anxieties while so many of his friends are facing the quarry. they need him level headed if this bomb plan is going to work. ]

We'll get you out of there, Lance. You just have to hold on long enough.
stabsbooks: (pic#10231018)

[personal profile] stabsbooks 2020-12-07 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ Of course she's bored. The real mystery to Cassandra is how anyone could not be. The parties are just this side of intolerable, and at this point, she'd take just about any opportunity to distract herself.

Including Maine. Her eyes narrow in suspicion out of pure habit when he plants himself in front of her, mouth turning down into a frown at the smug look on his face. But she can't stop the flicker of relief, maybe even gratitude, at the diversion. At something interesting happening, something she feels remotely prepared to deal with.

Not that she'd tell him that, of course. ]


Are you here to entertain me?

[ Picking him up and tossing him back into the Quarry would be entertaining enough, she thinks. ]
stabsbooks: (Don't pretend to be so innocent)

[personal profile] stabsbooks 2020-12-07 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
So I gathered.

[ To be fair, experience might not have done much good in this case. Cassandra's not an easy conversationalist even under the best circumstances, and anytime she's working in her capacity as a Shrike, things tend to veer into interrogation territory pretty quickly.

But she's also unflinchingly fair, and dedicated to the truth, whatever it may be. ]


It must be difficult for you. To see her arrested.
stabsbooks: (don't start with me varric)

[personal profile] stabsbooks 2020-12-07 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ She listens, silent and attempting to stay as openminded and nonjudgemental as possible. They all have their methods. Better not to question what works, and Amos works very well. She has no doubt that the perpetrator is guilty, and she absolutely believes Amos' story that he ran. Of course he had to run after him, and of course some injuries would have been inevitable.

But there are lines. There is a system of justice already in place, and it does not involve Shrikes slamming people's skulls up against the wall. She stares at Amos, eyes flashing in what she's surprised to realize is suppressed anger. She tightens her hands into fists to keep them from shaking, her tone sharp and clipped. ]


The message was received when you arrested him and brought him to the Quarry.
bornrussian: (EG: thinking)

[personal profile] bornrussian 2020-12-07 04:00 am (UTC)(link)
Somewhere, between Tony walking through the door and this moment, there was a spark of something and as per usual, Natasha doused it before it could flicker into a flame.

His sure is met by an easy smile that is all surface as Natasha nods. Like they're both winning here. Carefully, she unfolds her legs from underneath herself and steps onto the cold floor.

Rather than returning immediately to her side of the bed -- he gave her the one closest to the window after he caught her staring at the view one time too many -- Natasha passes by the soft arm chair in the corner. Her robe slips down her shoulders with a rasp of silk against silk, and she drapes it across one of the arm rests in a pool of silk and feathers.

"I have the charity gala," she reminds him. The dinner alone is an excruciating four hours. Then add on the mingling and dancing after and suddenly it's way past midnight. "You might actually beat me home for once."

Home. The word slips across her lips like it means nothing. She pads back to the bed like the remnants of her heart don't ache in her chest. She tucks her legs in underneath the covers and lays down on the soft and clean sheets. A servant changes them daily. Another luxury Natasha thought she'd never get used to, that she now takes for granted.

"You should sleep." Natasha settles on her side, back turned against Tony. This was easier when they just fell into bed occasionally after parties that ran too long. When he sketched out calculations on her skin of how long it'd be before he made her fall apart, and she did her best to beat his math, before they both fell asleep in each other's arms exhausted and covered in a light sheen of sweat.

"You'll need your wits about you tomorrow."
evocation: (338bottledskies)

[personal profile] evocation 2020-12-07 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
I know, but...

[Her fingers tangle in the back of his shirt, clinging tight. This isn't the same as what he does every day, but she can't quite articulate why. She sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, floundering for a moment.]

It's— If you got caught, would you want me to try to get you out? Or would you tell me it's too dangerous?
bornrussian: (EG: thesmallestfrown)

Natasha Romanoff | MCU

[personal profile] bornrussian 2020-12-07 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
> So Shall It Be (Quarry Preparations)

Wear something comfortable, Tony says. Like somewhere in Natasha's closet, something exists that isn't made to be beautiful, the wearer's comfort be damned. She spends an hour going through and discarding outfits in her very extensive closet of gowns and cocktail dresses and lingerie made to turn a man's head.

In the end, the heavily structured and neatly tailored skirt suit is probably more formal than Tony intended, but it's the best her closet has to offer. She'll have to go shopping again, she thinks. Find a range of outfits suitable for visiting him at work. Something casual and elegant.

It's not her first time visiting Tony's office. But the moment she walks across the threshold, she feels like a trespasser. It's the giant maps of this month's Quarry pinned to the walls and sprawled across work spaces, the casual comments like if we slow the poison down by another couple of hours, we could maximize suffering, and the great machine of people all involved in orchestrating the maximum amount of suffering for the enjoyment of the Cardinals.

If Natasha hadn't braced for it, any one thing might've pierced her chest to cut at her heart. But she knew what she was walking into. Her defenses are up, wrapped around herself like a bullet proof cloak. But there's a cost to it, barely visible in the careful way she holds herself as she makes her way across the scattered offices.

It's obvious she doesn't belong. Beyond the strict formality of her clothes, the picnic basket hanging from the crook of her arm really seals the deal. On her way from the entrance to Tony's office, she draws more than one look. They're not as discreet as they think they are, but Natasha doesn't so much as glance their way.

Of course, she finds the door to Tony's office swung wide open, and its occupant nowhere to be found. She spins around, gaze searching for him in open office landscape. No luck.

She turns to the nearest company man (or woman).

"You don't happen to know where Tony Stark went, do you?"

> Lunch CLOSED to Tony

"There you are." Natasha sweeps into the conference room, like she's in a floor length evening gown with an impressive train, rather than the heavily tailored skirt suit. She sets down the honest-to-heaven picnic basket on the conference table.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important." She swings around the table, crowds Tony's body with her own before pressing a kiss on each of his cheeks, one hand bracing against his thigh in well-practiced familiarity.

"Lunch, as promised."
Edited 2020-12-07 04:46 (UTC)
nonstopnarcissist: AOU (Default)

piggybacking off this

[personal profile] nonstopnarcissist 2020-12-07 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
For the 'Seasons/biomes' option of the Passage of Time theme (ish??) participants have until X hour to get to a safety zone/bunker that locks down for 6-8 hours while the landscape is changed over, Aird/hot > Scrubland/tepid > Forest/Jungle > Flooded/Frigid. ALTERNATIVELY, they have to bypass gate points to get to the next area and biome before the current one becomes completely inhospitable?

Puzzle Time Penalty Paralytic- if a solo puzzle isn't solved within x amount of time an airborne paralytic gets pumped into the room and a signal flare set off to alert other combatants that there's a vulnerable party.

malta: (☾ fifteen.)

[personal profile] malta 2020-12-07 05:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ joe shakes his head, shuffling around to ladle out a serving of soup, slice some of the brown bread to go with it, set it all on the small table that holds a wilting fern. ]

He's at the school.

[ his sweet husband the teacher. whom joe lies to every day. ]
jarnbjorn: (10)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
I'll drink to that.

[ he raises the glass he's holding and downs it in a single pull. afterward, he's grinning. It's his I've had an idea grin ]

But surely you've got some standards.
jarnbjorn: (Default)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
you should be


ugh, what a waste
stagethreeclinger: (Default)

[personal profile] stagethreeclinger 2020-12-07 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
Since Team Bellamy & Friends have kidnapped Cardinal Murphy and will be roughing him up for some information, among other things, Roy's going to be specifically asking him about the source of Parliament's powers.

Pana's confirmed that Murphy will give up that secret, though we haven't yet threaded it, so I'm not sure on the details of how Roy will be following up with that as of yet. But, that's my goal for the next log - to have him follow up on trying to solve the mystery around the Parliament powers. If he needs to sneak into the Volary to do that, there may also be an avenue for him to achieve that too. We're still doing OOC chatting about What To Do With Murphy, so it's not all completely ironed out yet.
gossipkinesis: (smile ∘ patch ∘ sweet smirk)

[personal profile] gossipkinesis 2020-12-07 06:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ she snorts at both the way he downs his drink and the comment he makes afterward.]

Of course, I do. [ her eye narrows, she knows that grin.] Why?
Edited 2020-12-07 06:02 (UTC)
jarnbjorn: (10)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ seeing a smile is all Thor needs, assuming that anything Wade is saying is just extra flirting. ]

I didn't realise you were paying me that much attention. You should have come and said something.
jarnbjorn: (10)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ Thor expression doesn't brighten as she joins him, if anything he puts on an even more put-upon look. Marian understands, after all. She's in the same position as him. ]

What would I do without you, Marian?

[ He raises his glass to her and throws her a wink ]

I'm sure my mother would have been on my side if she were still alive. But all I've got is an overbearing father.
jarnbjorn: (03)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
I'm not doing your job for you, little man. You throw the ideas and I'll tell you if they're any good.


But for the love of all things good please give it up with the rabid dogs. EVERY YEAR there's a surprise at night and EVERY YEAR it's rabit dogs.


[ he doesn't care if that's the case or not. he's sick of dogs. ]
jarnbjorn: (06)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
Then they should stop hiring designers without imagination, shouldn't they
jarnbjorn: (06)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
What about him?

[ He gestures at someone across the room. It's one of the older Cardinals, blessed with long life but apparently unconcerned about wrinkles and balding hair. ]

Fifty bucks to fuck him.
gossipkinesis: (listen ∘ angry ∘ passive)

[personal profile] gossipkinesis 2020-12-07 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ It doesn't matter who he could have pointed at, she would have had the same answer...]

No. [ she rolls her eyes and takes a swig of her drink.] I'm a Rook, I don't need to fuck someone for money.
jarnbjorn: (09)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ At first, Thor sees a woman approaching and thinks he's about to get a pleasant distraction.

Then he sees it's Cassandra and his grin fades into a petulant scowl. He drops the ambient temperature around them a few degrees to express his displeasure. ]


I spent the morning there. There's nothing going that's interesting.
jarnbjorn: (07)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ Thor, buoyed with laughter both with the praise and at the way the last man had crawled around in the floor, has no reservations ]

Blue is nothing. If I do it right, they'll piss themselves or throw up.

[ Chuckling to himself, he picks a man walking past and does the same to him. It's around a minute or two before he passes out, but while he doesn't vomit, he does turn faintly blue. ]

See? What did I tell you.
jarnbjorn: (10)

[personal profile] jarnbjorn 2020-12-07 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
Castiel! Just the man I wanted to talk to.


If you stab him right in the heart and go on to win the arena, I'll make sure you never want for money again :)
What do you say?