Recent Entries

Entry tags:

Setting is a local diner, modern day | Canon: The Booth at the End

There is a 24-hour diner. A diner that serves a variety of normal treats from coffee to cream puffs to pastrami sandwiches. The waitresses, the cooks, the owner have all lived normal lives and serve normal people.

Today there is a Man in the diner. A Man that you only heard about in rumors. A Man heard of in joking tones, but with eyes that said they were deadly serious. Some call him a manipulator. Some call him a mentor. Some call him an angel. Some call him a devil.

He is The Man sitting in the booth at the end of the diner.

He appears to spend his time writing down things in a large, black, leather-bound notebook. He orders whatever seems to suit his fancy at any given moment, but his attention remains on the book.

He's waiting for you. Waiting to make a deal to help get you what you want. All you have to do is sit down... and ask for it.

Entry tags:

setting is a modern city

She shouldn't feel bad about it, but she did anyway. She was a member of Department 0, so she assumed she could be trusted with things, but her superior hadn't let her see the body. Normally Mayu would be glad about it—it wasn't like she wants to see a dead body—but she hadn't even been allowed to check if the injuries were magically-induced. It wouldn't even take that long, and she'd only see the body for a second. On top of that, she'd been sent away without being given anything to do, leaving Mayu to walk dejectedly back to the police station, clutching her phone just in case someone from the department changed their mind.

She'd been with the department for months already... it was time for something to change. It isn't like she's asking for heavy assignments or anything, but lately, she hadn't done very much that was useful. She had to prove herself....

That was what she was thinking when suddenly, a gigantic billboard fell down in front of her. "Huh? Wha—?"

Current Mood: tired

Entry tags:

Canon is Senyuu

[[Minor spoilers all the way from Ch2/S2/Vol2 and is set sometime after the anime's finale.]]

Setting: A forest in between towns, in the middle of the night

Alba awakens to the memory of Ross' (... or should it be Creasion's?) disappearance.

It was all crisp and clear to him still; the way the sun beat down on them, the way the wind picked up bits of sand and got it into his mouth whenever he so much as opened it, and that smile... oh god, that smile. It was the first time Alba's ever seen the soldier give him something so pure and genuine, and whenever his mind returned to it, Alba's chest began to ache.

He rubbed his tired eyes; it's still a long ways away until sunrise, the fire he had set up continuing to dance brilliantly in front of him. This was becoming a problem, these nightmares that plagued him. Granted, they weren't anything serious, but if he continued to have sleepless nights like this, he was gonna end up being monster fodder.

"If I could, just one more time..." He murmured, staring into the flames for a moment before pulling his blanket closer; closing his eyes as the night's bitter chill nipped at his nose. He needed to sleep if he wanted to make it to the city by nightfall the next day, but with his head bustling about like this there was no way he was going to fall asleep anytime soon.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the distance. Huh. The fire should be keeping the monsters and animals away. Could it be one of the twelve demons? He swallowed, shoving his blanket to the side as he quietly picked his sword up.

"... H... Hello?" He spoke into the darkness, knees trembling.

Canon is Vampire Knight

Setting: Spooky Forest?

It had felt like hours since she'd been separated from anyone friendly. It had grown dark, but she didn't feel uncomfortable in that darkness. She had Artemis on hand if anything with a dark enough presence found it's way to her. All she could see in front of her were the trees and feel the crunch of dirt and leaves under her shoes. Had she circled this bunch of trees already? It was hard to tell the darker it got out, even if her sight was perfectly fine. All the trees were starting to look the same as she tried to still her panic and stay focused on leaving.

"I'm not lost... I just went the wrong way!" She says a loud to herself, fist clenched in front of her as she tries her best to feel more confident in herself. Closing her eyes, she takes a breath and lets her vampire senses expand a little more. She wanted to be able to hear or smell anything that might lead her back out again. What she hadn't wanted to hear was the sound of someone or something else walking near by in the woods. The crunch of leaves gave them away, naturally.

"Who's there?" Her voice is like the crack of a whip, her posture and stance shifting to be at the ready.

Closed // Rating for Smut in the comments

Yuuki felt warm all over, though that could be due to the blankets wrapped around the two of them. Sighing, she moves closer to the source of the warmth so close to her touch, snuggling into him. Distantly it registers that they're both still very much unclothed but that didn't seem to matter right now. He was here and she would make sure he didn't leave any time soon. Almost as if to prove as much, her arm rests loosely around him, fingers splayed across his back. She was tempted to wake him by calling his name, instead she snuggles into him with her face pressed against his chest, humming her contentment being the only sound made out of her.

He smelled like blood and a smell that was only his. She knew he'd shed a lot of blood with his hands, but the only blood that matted was his. Of course thinking all about blood served only to make her thirst apparent and unconsciously she clings to him more tightly while trying to ignore it. No, let him sleep and maybe have happier dreams for once.

Entry tags:

[Action]

(This post will contain (and be set in) spoilers for Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea. Due to said spoilers, I'm putting the post content behind a cut. Some potential for blood and violence and creeping will occur here, as a forewarning.)

( Woo spoilers. )

Entry tags:

Settings listed by entry. Canon is Forest of Drizzling Rain.

[A: a village in the middle of nowhere, Japan]
[For whatever reason, you're in Azaka Village, a peaceful place with a large museum devoted to its history that nobody ever seems to go to. And for whatever reason - curiosity, losing track of time, an inability to play by the rules - you're exploring the museum after closing hours.

It doesn't take long before you realize that there is somebody in the museum with you, and now you're face to face with him. A man in all black, with a bright, gleaming sword has cornered you in one of the rooms. He advances upon you, holding the sword with one hand and with the other...

...pulling out a paper memo and pushing it in your face.]

The museum is closed

[B: slice of life jamjar]
[You've been sorted into a family with this guy who communicates with you largely by post-it notes and organizes and cleans things as a hobby. Since he's university age, he's been sorted as the father of the household.

So, as the father, he's going to try to fulfill his duties and cook something.

You wake up to the smell of burnt something. It's not clear what it was that was burnt, even if you go have a look at him glowering at the stove. There was food, and then it burnt beyond recognition.]

Entry tags:

setting: the beach when it's too cold for that

[Matthew feels hollow in a way he always is whenever he's out of reach of a city. The countryside has it's own power, but it's one he doesn't recognise and out here he can't feel his heart beat in time with the traffic or walk in time with the natural rhythms of city life. All things considered, the beach isn't high up on his list of places to visit.

But it is theirs. They're curious about everything and want to experience things first hand. It's a risk to be away from their source of power, but they so wanted to know. Precautions were set up of course. A few Aldermen were standing around close enough to see him, but far enough that it wasn't immediately obvious they were here with him and if it came down to it, the angels could burn what his sorcery couldn't.

It's a cold gloomy day and he almost looks like someone who woke up hungover on the beach if not for the way he's running around in bare feet, enjoying the feeling of sand between his toes.]

If we could we would spend all day here. So why is it so empty here?

setting: some weirdass fantasy place with dragons and shit

...What poor excuses for men, leaving me to go hunt down that dragon...

[As much as Kai tries to convince other people (and apparently herself?!) that she's not cut out for this whole 'JRPG Questing' business, the sword-whip she's holding does look mighty sharp. Not to mention threatening, now that she's trotting towards you with it in hand.

Kai's choice of clothing and done-up hair certainly makes her look like she doesn't suit a job that basically entails 'hunt down and stab a ~~bitch~~ dragon'... except for her face. She doesn't have the happiest expression right now, and is almost glaring... quite a fitting face for a warrior.

Or a growling bear. Either could work.]

Oi. [oh god she's talking to you] You look like you're free! Interested in chasing down a dragon?

It's been too long since something interesting happened, after all.

Entry tags:

setting: modern city

[She'd outpaced her contingent when she'd run after the red-and-yellow monsters who'd been terrorizing this part of town. Not only had the monsters been attacking people, but they'd been stealing people's juice. How monstrous.]

[She's surrounded now, though.]

I won't be defeated easily....

19th century shenanigans

The party is bustling, the rich brushing shoulders with the rich or possibly the not quite as rich. Class is everything to the people in the room. It was something to hold close to your heart. A station in life. Part of your identity. Even if you don't want to admit it. The woman wear expensive gloves and the men dressed in finest tuxes they could afford. Suits expensive enough to feed a family of ten to a few beggars on the streets. The fires are low and the wine glasses are full. The room is simply busy with life. Conversation flows and pluses like a living creature, the house wives trade stories about sordid love affairs and gossip about each other even as they charm and smile at the subject of the gossip across the room.

Dorian is outside that noise. Something present yet removed from the party and the people around him. A few people glance his way but he ignores them for once. The young looking man hovering on the spot as the noise washes of them. Of the life passing him by.

His eyes locked to the person in the center of the room. Dorian couldn't pull his eyes away even if he wanted too. There was something about them. Something in the air around them. Those dark eyes drop down to move from the persons ankles all the way up to meet the others eyes.

He's captivated. For the moment.

Entry tags:

rating: pg-13

Setting: Aboard the Flying Pussyfoot (cw: potential violence and bloodshed)

It had been a pretty perfect plan in Ladd Russo's mind. Hijack the trans-continental train, The Flying Pussyfoot and threaten to crash it straight into the middle of manhatten unless his demands were met. Of course, obviously some people would have to die in the process as a means to the end. He was perfectly okay with that. Maybe he'd even follow through with the threat and crash the whole train, that'd make for an interesting killing spree, right?

But of course someone had to step in and ruin the fun. Those black suits... and the other little group galavanting around the train, they'd get what's coming to them soon enough of course.

So, Ladd Russo walked though the train, alone and unafraid. The others had gone to look after Lua for him. Truthfully, he was looking for danger, literally anyone that looked like they would try and fight him. The bloodlust right now was insatiable, and he could feel his hand tightening around his shotgun at the thought of putting some unsuspecting person down while they least expected it.

"C'mon, throw something at me..." He muttered under his breath, one of his usual, slasher grins painted on his face. "What I need right now is some excitement!"

Entry tags:

Setting: An enchanted forest

[This forest is lovely, dark and deep, with pale blossoms and little floating lights peeking from dark shadows, a mist filling the air, and a general sense of mystery and magic pervading the entire place.

And if there's one thing the duskwight, cave-raised Drividot hates, it's magical forests.]

Damnable trees... [he mutters, struggling to bend aside shrubbery without getting slapped in the face with a bent branch.] I suppose that I can't just take an axe to them, otherwise I'll have sylphs or elementals or wailers or gods-know-what after my arse...

[And he freezes when he hears a branch snap that he had nothing to do with. Now what?]

Entry tags:

setting: smithsonian (post ca: tws, potential spoilers)

She didn't know her feet took her here: there were so many people that could easily pick her out. If she's not careful. She stared up at the information board for what feels like the millionth time.

Jane Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes

Childhood friends with Captain America. You just met. You will kill.

That was her face staring back. She was laughing with someone, familiar.

But I knew--

You know nothing!

She flinched and hunched in on herself.

Entry tags:

setting: enchanted forest

A.

Well, wasn't this a dead forest. The undergrowth crackled under her feet as if something had been through here, leeching the life out of the ground. Didn't even have the courtesy to leave her an easy trail to follow, leaving such a huge radius withered like this. Cautious of anything that might spring out at her, Jabi took a step to the right, then another.

If she had to continue like this the entire way, she'd never get anywhere. She looked at the tree next to her, gauging its sturdiness, and then jumped into it. She continued up until she could get a good view around for at least a hundred meters. "Looks like it was in a hurry, to come this far in only a few hours."

It hadn't gone yet, but the question, and her task: where was it?

B.

[She's found a lantern in this empty wooden shack, and has tied it to the rafters, where it sways, creating shadows that loom. Heedless, she goes around the small boxy building, sticking red paper charms onto the walls.]

We'll be okay here for the night.

C.

[Something else?]

Entry tags:

A bar on any planet. only cut warning would be for tng relaunch/pocket spoilers probably

( action )

Entry tags:

Setting: An Enchanted Forest

Help me! Help me!

[This particular cry does not come from the white-haired girl wandering through the forest, but from a nearby apple tree. Mytho does not appear to be particularly disturbed by the voice, and she turns to look placidly at the tree.]

What's wrong?

[The tree heaves a great sigh.]

My apples, one and all, are so very ripe! Won't someone shake me?

[Mytho barely considers this before saying:] Okay.

[Without another word, Mytho reaches up and begins to shake the branches with a surprising amount of strength, considering her petite size. Apples are now raining down on all and sundry.]

Entry tags:

Setting: Antique Store

As much as Lara loved to skim through auction houses and see what was available online that piqued her interest or was something that could lead to a greater adventure, there was also something to be said for those small hole-in-the-wall antique stores. Not the big garish ones that boasted of Queen Anne chairs or apothecary tables. No, Lara preferred the ones whose windows were dusty enough that you had to enter the store if you wanted to see what it held. They generally had things that had been lost to the ages, manned by someone who might be considered an antique themselves. The dingier the store, the better the treasure they held.

Not to say that a majority of what collected dust on the shelves wasn't junk or very good knock offs, but once in a while, she found something that had the collector and adventurer in her soaring, something that made her pulse jump when she saw it and inevitably reached for it.

She was hoping for just such a find as she stepped through the door of one such store she'd spied, the bell jangling like a broken chime above her as she stepped in. She had to pause at the door for her eyes to adjust to the gloom inside, but she was hoping that this little deviation would be worthwhile.

Entry tags:

setting: space station

Her footsteps were being intrusively loud. Of course, she was wearing heels, but she hadn't quite expected to end up here when she'd gotten up in the morning. But that was assuming this was the same day. Her watch had stopped, her lips were dry, her nails had outgrown the clear coating of polish. Her teacher's garb—button-up blouse, gray jacket and skirt—seemed out of place, even though she didn't know what "in place" would be. Orange jumpsuits, perhaps, but that didn't seem right, either. The gravity was on, and the place was larger than she would have expected. But still, she got the impression she was in space.

What was she doing here? It was no use digging up the last thing she remembered—from what she remembered, she should be dead. Or if not dead, then some far-flung place that didn't resemble a space station. Maybe this was a joke. A joke from the Chairman: Ha ha, we fooled you. Welcome aboard. She wasn't a new employee (in either sense) and the Chairman wasn't given to jokes.

She turned the corner. Desperation and confusion drove her to speak even as she entertained the thought that it might be a trap. "Hello? Is anybody there?"

Entry tags:

SETTING: a luxury hotel

[Tonight's gig has just ended and the band has split up to enjoy the luxuries of the hotel for a couple of hours before their driver comes to pick up both them and their equipment. Their instruments look sort of lonely, left behind up there - on the small, round stage in the corner of the room. It's a nostalgic observation that Shiori makes, glancing back over one shoulder before sitting down on one of the free stools at the long, mahogany bar and it makes her feel strangely estranged. From the situation. From her surroundings. Although she's a stranger to neither.

Cocking her head slightly, she surveys the selection of alcohol on the shelves behind the bartender. Lets her eyes run over each bottle individually while she tries to make her pick. She can't, though. The jitters from performing have died down and left her with no hole to fill. If she's drinking, she'll be drinking to fill the silence instead and there are other ways to do that, right? Thus, she turns her attention towards the person next to her.]

What do you think I should get? I'm drawing a complete blank.

Entry tags:

[CW: Alcoholism] Setting: A Jersey Bar, Night

Max Payne sits alone on a crummy stool in a crummy bar in a crummy part of Hoboken, New Jersey. Outside, dirty snow drifts down like ash from the sky. Inside, the lights are dim, the music is faint and scratchy, the floor looks like it was last cleaned during the Clinton administration. An ashtray filled with crushed, smouldering, used-up cigarettes sits in front of him. The tobacco is also crummy: cheap cigs for a cheap place.

The only thing in the joint with any kind of class is the half-empty bottle of scotch Max has next to him. It’s the high-quality stuff, high potency too. Max has been working his way through it for about two hours now. He pours himself a glass, and stares morosely into it as though it holds all the answers. Then he drinks the answers, decides he doesn’t like what they reveal to him, and lights another cigarette as he contemplates his next move. Inevitably, his next move involves pouring another glass. He’s got a system down, a routine. Life is meaningless if you don’t give it any structure.

Max isn’t what anybody would ever call a sociable drinker, or person for that matter, but tonight something (probably the scotch) makes him start talking. He’s not speaking to anyone in particular, just wondering aloud. Maybe he’s hoping for better answers than the drink has been giving him.

"Friend of mine said something to me once," he says, his voice flat and dry. "If the only choice you've got is to do the wrong thing, then maybe it’s not actually wrong, maybe it’s just fate. Something like that." It’s not an exact quote, he’s paraphrasing as best he can. Memory is the enemy to Max, a monster he tries to keep at arm’s length so it can’t rip him to shreds. "I used to think that was just crap he used to excuse himself when he screwed people over. But maybe..."

Maybe there are no choices. Maybe life is a one-way train track, speeding people toward their inevitable derailment. Maybe there’s just enough free will in the world to justify guilt and regret, but not enough to actually change things.

These aren’t easy words to for anyone to speak, especially someone halfway through a bottle. Max trails off, then shakes his head, losing his train of thought. “Ah, forget it.”

He resumes his routine.