vampyre: (Default)
[personal profile] vampyre


For whatever reason, you find yourself stepping into this room through that door you just opened. It doesn't make sense, most likely, as you were surely going from somewhere to...well, anywhere that wasn't this particular room, but before you can connect the dots the door has softly closed behind you. The room is nice; everything in it seems to be geared to cause as little impact as possible, with its muted, yet comfortable tones, shapes that are soft yet secure and a soft, continuous instrumental song that plays on the background but that seems to disappear if you're not paying attention. Even the smell is nice, reminiscent of nothing concrete, yet slightly sweet and inviting at the same time. The room seems soundproofed too, as no other sound seems to come from behind you; no cars nor planes or whatever was going on the other side of that door.

Maybe now you'll notice the woman.

In your defense, she's standing by the far end of the studio (because this is what the place seems to be), currently busying herself with a coffee maker. She's dressed in tones similar to the room, although the colors are more vibrant and they certainly don't look like an uniform even though she seems to obviously work here. With her back partly pointed towards you, most of her face remains hidden by a wealth of black silky hair, although judging by her hands and what little is visible she's rather pale, yet not incredibly so.

"Now, this is interesting."

Without turning around, the woman takes a tentative sip from the just prepared cup, savors it for a moment and then adds some sugar. "I had been notified that I wouldn't have a four o'clock; you would think such news would mean I could finally get some rest, but no ten minutes afterwards and I'm already bored to death." She turns around, looking at you with a small smile on her face; now she's perfectly visible, those eerie shiny blue eyes offering a stark contrast with her skin. "Coffee? If we're doing this, I would rather know you're fully comfortable"

secretsymphony: (CERULEAN ~)
[personal profile] secretsymphony
[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.
caneous: (RED)
[personal profile] caneous
[ Fourbuck is an unusual surname, by most standards. Once every five times Camden's mentioned it, he's had to explain that Fourbuck is his hand-to-God last name. He doesn't really mind it, except for when he does. Like tonight. He's in no mood to be social tonight, knowing what the date is and what it means to him and the man he calls Dad.

Here's to you, Ma, he thinks as he hails the bartender for another drink. The bottle comes to him with condensation all over it, and he spends a bit rolling the bottle from one hand to the other before caving in and turning to the closest person on the bar. The bartender didn't give him a coaster, see, and normally he wouldn't care about that, but— ]


Hey, you mind if I borrow your coaster?
just_echoes: (blissfully ignorant)
[personal profile] just_echoes
(A)

You are a client of the Dollhouse and you've chosen Echo to be your own personal... what? Student? Date? Maid? Rocket scientist? All of the above? You choose the "fantasy" and Echo will be it.

(B)

You work FOR the Dollhouse as a handler or one of the oh so kind staff members who work hard to make sure the Actives stay as healthy and content as always. Or maybe you're another Active. Echo is between engagements for the moment but she seems to be acting a little differently than normal. She seems more aware. She's saying things the other Actives don't understand. What do you do?

(C)

Echo enjoyed being free - both mentally and physically. Her mind may be crowded but at least she was aware of it. It was a significant improvement on the wiped state she'd been living in before the changes started. She took a deep breath of fresh air, determined to enjoy one of her last days of peace before they returned to the Dollhouse. They had a lot of work to do but that didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy life a little.

She stopped at a local florist, leaning down to give the roses a sniff. Smiling, she touched the petals with her fingertips for a moment before straightening to continue down the sidewalk. Unfortunately she'd let herself get so distracted by the flowers that she got careless. When she turned she ran right into someone walking behind her.

She fumbled, trying to hold onto them to keep them both upright. With a laugh she smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."
larue: (the world is just a teller)
[personal profile] larue
[ London, 2063.

The fog is thick tonight. It paints the world a particular shade of gray that blends streets and buildings together, so much that the glow of the street lamps seem to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

A curious thing that you see though, is the sight of a young man in his mid-twenties, dressed in a deep crimson suit as he comes to a stop at one corner. There's a distinct click as he lights up a cigarette, the same hand that stows the gunmetal Zippo back in his pocket fishing out a phone that he brings to his ear. ]


All quiet on my end.
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[personal profile] vtmod
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