[identity profile] lord-icelus.livejournal.com
Some time, in a place that was and is the abbey, that is in this world and in Dream

She is coming.

I can feel her, that nasty bitch, like a tooth ache or a splinter. She nearly killed me, and I still suffer for it. Partly it was my own fault, for not remembering that silly service gods like her love to throw themselves on their own swords to look after their people. As if we should be in service to them!

I want her to get here. I want to kill her slowly, and lick her bones clean, and then I want to dance as the new king of this little town. A nasty pisspot of a place, it is, but it's better than oblivion, yes. They may not worship me, here, but they'd fear me: and for a god of nightmare, that's really good enough.

She's bringing friends, though. I disliked that last time. And so I conjure up a labyrinth, turning the stone of this abbey into twisting pathways of dead ends and trap doors. She'll lose some along the way. And then I will tear out her heart.

[OPEN]
[identity profile] glass-beddau.livejournal.com
[Wednesday            17th       479Thursday, September 18th (day 480)]
[The Abbey]
[In a late strange time]


The air is cool, and still, and waiting to burn.

The graveyard here is different to what it was a day ago; it's the one I've dreamt of, I think, where and a year and more ago I saw Nanshe come walking from the north; graveyard north, not town north. But the ground seethes like bothered ants, and the grass does not whisper. If I left off on looking, I think it would pull itself free and crawl away.

And I leave off looking, as that is not where we are going.

You feel no especial call to goodness, do you, Glass? No. It's not in me, not rooted; but I have come to hate the other, and what it works, and may be that is a beginning.

The Abbey's stone is weeping, and there are shapes even I cannot see in the shadows. This is not the Shuck's night; this is safety twisted to fear. And we have come.

[Open]
[identity profile] goddessnanshe.livejournal.com
Early morning, Wednesday

My arms and legs are bleeding, my ceremonial dress ripped and stained. It has taken me hours to get free of the abbey and stumble onto Main Street. My hair smells of soot. I can manipulate dream, but now there is another here who can, too, and the dreams he has sent for me are full of fire and thorns. And he does not tire, as I do. His body is not mortal.

I stumble up to the sheriff's office and knock hard on the door.

[Open to JACK, and then to others who might be nearby]
[At sheriff's office; moving to the LIBRARY]
[identity profile] managementchild.livejournal.com
Wednesday, 20th August; afternoon

One week - one week and one thousand thousand thousand days since I
since I
I, I, I
opened one great
eye
and am
when before there was only we (in the darkwomb belly of Creation, we).

I AM
ἐγώ εἰμι
(and there was a great cry in this my new Egypt.)

I have been to my Father's house, and touched his cock and cunt to receive my blessing, for she will not deny me that, even if I am unlike any other child of his seed that was or ever will be. For only I am this. And I bathed in the blood of her baptism between her legs, and made myself a body and face that honours my Father, for what child does not want a heritage? I will wear this, for a while, and when I need it not I will put it in a box like an old suit, for I am of my Mothers too and we can have a hundred faces.

In this body, come out of Egypt, I go into the town. It is my first place and my last place and I will love it until it is gone to dust. Will that be between my teeth? Perhaps. Perhaps.

I choose a building of a pleasing shape to enter. It is a tavern. I ask to see the different colours of the drink and I choose one that is pale gold and amber. I do not drink it, but I hold the glass close to my face so I can smell it. I smell the scent of decaying crops and sunlight. It is a fine drink.

[OPEN]

[identity profile] syl-thorn.livejournal.com
[Just past midnight, Thursday, August 14, day 445]
[The woods]


(Continued from here)

I still really ain't sure where we are. We been walkin' ferrat least a couple hours now, but th'clouds've covered th'moon, an'I can't judge what time't might be. Long 'nough fer th'wound'n m'should t'clot over an' m'arm t'go stiff's old leather. Ain't much else I c'n say beyond'at.

Glass'n me ain't spoken much, partly cuz we's both burnt out, partly 'cuz we wanna stay's quiet's possible. I ain't seen neither'a th'bitches since I left'em trapped'n screamin', but I ain't gonna count us 's anywhere near safe 'til we's outta th'woods 'n safe in our beds.

Pause's we cross into a clearin'. "Any idea how much further we got t'go?" I says inna whisper.


[OPEN to those from the previous scene, and others should they choose]
[identity profile] westin-sagert.livejournal.com
[Pre-dawn darkness, Thursday, August 4 (day 431)]
[Interrupted when returning from the Whitechapel]


The pain is really quite astounding. I hear a garbled sobbing and persist in reading those words into it. Like wind in the trees, water dribbling onto stone, breath over broken teeth. You could hear anything in it, you could...

The world seems quite gray, for a long moment, and when it passes the surface I am leaning--laying?--upon is beginning to dry, and there is a dull tackiness when I try and move away. I manage, eventually, but it is more of a roll than anything else. It is slightly easier to breathe, now, though. I can see something ahead, the patterned gleam of light on cobbles, and when I try to focus the curves and shadows boil up and break apart and I vomit and the pain--

Pieces, inside, raw and tearing--like fruit in a bag of broken crockery, shaken and split. I think I have had something quite horrible happen to me. The mutter of words, or of something close to them, or only a memory. The sobbing.

I don't remember where I was going. Someone, please...

The pain is really...

[Open]
[identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
Sunday, July 25th
Tez's old squat


This room is too warm, even with the wind coming in the broken window, and damp, and it smells like the back of the stables at the Whitechapel where the stray cats urinate. I still like it better than the one Valmont arranged for me.

I didn't like it there. People came and went in the building, and the woman who owned it - the landlady - was always asking me if I was alright. I think she was trying to be nice to start with, but not for long. And there was no one there to make it worth staying, no Valmont or Alice. So I remembered the way here and climbed up the stairs, and it was familiar and not familiar and once or twice people came out to look at me, but they didn't bother me.

There were some burned-down candles by the door, and they put the hairs up on the back of my neck. Offerings, yes. I wonder what they knew, or thought they knew, the people who left them there, once who-I-was was gone. Someone had tried to break the door open, too, but it hadn't worked. Of course not. It makes me satisfied, still.

It opened for me, of course.

Rain has come in, since I was here, but Genny's painting over the dead hearth is fine. When I came in I touched it with light fingers, half fascinated and half disgusted. Is this what I am? It echoed back into me, and the room seeped into me the way I spread out into the stable loft at Valmont's. (I left some of myself there, just a little. I hope it makes Fyodor uncomfortable if he's gone back there now.)

I'm glad I took the blanket from the bed in the room Valmont paid for, because the ones I left are damp as well. I've been sleeping on it, and now I've wrapped myself up in it even with the warm, because the pressure's reassuring. It makes me think of Val holding me. I wish someone would.

[Open to Lucien]
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
Sunday, July 18th, late afternoon
The Doctor's office


It was one of those rare and quiet days.  Cool enough to enjoy the breeze, grey enough where I am not squinting against the sun, and just calm enough where I could prop my feet up on my desk, lean back in my chair, and catch a quick nap.

It WAS one of those days, at any rate.

Then the Addison boys tumbled in the door, carrying little Henry Rollins, who was howling to high heaven.  We were playing capture the flag, and Henry climbed a tree, and we had ta knock him outta it, but he fell funny and his mom's gonna kill us!!!

I groan, for I can already see that the arm is broken.  I take the whimpering child from the older boys and carry him into my exam room.  It's the resetting that's going to be the most traumatic.  I set him down on the table and stroke his hair a bit and wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Hey Henry.  Had a fall, huh?"  He just sniffles and nods, eyes wide and rather pale.  "Okay, I'm gonna take a look at your arm, then we're going to wrap it up real good so it's safe, okay."  I'm going to need the boys to fetch Mrs. Rollins, but I'm hoping to get him calm enough to snap it back into place quick.  Some mother's have no problwm with such procedures, other's faint.

Very gently, I run my fingers over his arm, feeling for the break.  There, right there.  Feels clean, and I close my eyes for just a moment, tracing my finger's over the spot, as if willing the bone to snap back to where it should be...

There's an intake of breath and whispering behind me, and Henry's arm feels so warm.  I open my eyes, and his arm is warm, almost alight with it under my hand.  I am not sure what's going on, but I am pretty sure I just coaxed the bone back into place.  Without knowing how, I can feel it knitting itself back together, I can feel the pain ebbing away from the boy...

I suddenly feel woozy and quite chilly, and I hold up my hand looking at it.  I am barely aware that Henry is waving his arm about and saying something about it being all better, and I hardly register the boys running out and the yells of "thanks doc!!!" as they scamper away.

I slump to the floor, still staring at my hand.

"What the HELL.....?"

(open)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
Sunday, July 18th, late afternoon
The Doctor's office


It was one of those rare and quiet days.  Cool enough to enjoy the breeze, grey enough where I am not squinting against the sun, and just calm enough where I could prop my feet up on my desk, lean back in my chair, and catch a quick nap.

It WAS one of those days, at any rate.

Then the Addison boys tumbled in the door, carrying little Henry Rollins, who was howling to high heaven.  We were playing capture the flag, and Henry climbed a tree, and we had ta knock him outta it, but he fell funny and his mom's gonna kill us!!!

I groan, for I can already see that the arm is broken.  I take the whimpering child from the older boys and carry him into my exam room.  It's the resetting that's going to be the most traumatic.  I set him down on the table and stroke his hair a bit and wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Hey Henry.  Had a fall, huh?"  He just sniffles and nods, eyes wide and rather pale.  "Okay, I'm gonna take a look at your arm, then we're going to wrap it up real good so it's safe, okay."  I'm going to need the boys to fetch Mrs. Rollins, but I'm hoping to get him calm enough to snap it back into place quick.  Some mother's have no problwm with such procedures, other's faint.

Very gently, I run my fingers over his arm, feeling for the break.  There, right there.  Feels clean, and I close my eyes for just a moment, tracing my finger's over the spot, as if willing the bone to snap back to where it should be...

There's an intake of breath and whispering behind me, and Henry's arm feels so warm.  I open my eyes, and his arm is warm, almost alight with it under my hand.  I am not sure what's going on, but I am pretty sure I just coaxed the bone back into place.  Without knowing how, I can feel it knitting itself back together, I can feel the pain ebbing away from the boy...

I suddenly feel woozy and quite chilly, and I hold up my hand looking at it.  I am barely aware that Henry is waving his arm about and saying something about it being all better, and I hardly register the boys running out and the yells of "thanks doc!!!" as they scamper away.

I slump to the floor, still staring at my hand.

"What the HELL.....?"

(open)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
Wednesday, July 7th
The General Store, late morning


Oh course the rain decided to come down just as I was leaving the school-house.  I was hoping it would hold off till I finished checking on Kaeli, but I should have known better with the wind kicking up and the rumbles of thunder following me down Main.  At least Kaeli was looking much better, and was more animated than yesterday.  She's been improving a little bit every day, which is no small relief.  I would hate to have been the cause of...

I would never forgive myself if Kaeli had ended up like Lúgh. 

I start jogging back towards town as the rain starts to splatter around me, but within seconds I am sprinting as the downpour starts and the lightning flashes.  Probably not the best idea to remain outside, and I veer for the closest shoppe door.

The closest shoppe door turns out to be the General store.  Well, there are worst ports in a storm, and I am sure there's something I need here.  With a good natureed sigh, I set down my bag at the front door and shake the rain from my hair.

(Open)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
Wednesday, July 7th
The General Store, late morning


Oh course the rain decided to come down just as I was leaving the school-house.  I was hoping it would hold off till I finished checking on Kaeli, but I should have known better with the wind kicking up and the rumbles of thunder following me down Main.  At least Kaeli was looking much better, and was more animated than yesterday.  She's been improving a little bit every day, which is no small relief.  I would hate to have been the cause of...

I would never forgive myself if Kaeli had ended up like Lúgh. 

I start jogging back towards town as the rain starts to splatter around me, but within seconds I am sprinting as the downpour starts and the lightning flashes.  Probably not the best idea to remain outside, and I veer for the closest shoppe door.

The closest shoppe door turns out to be the General store.  Well, there are worst ports in a storm, and I am sure there's something I need here.  With a good natureed sigh, I set down my bag at the front door and shake the rain from my hair.

(Open)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com

July 3rd, Friday night
Stumbling homewards along the bank of the river


I am not sure who is helping who to walk; Iago helping me or me helping Iago. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to grab him and take him over to La Fee Verte ... but he was mopey and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Admittedly, I don't have the best track record with good ideas. We got drunk on absinthe. Then I thought it would cheer him up ever more, so we went to see the show at The Grindhouse. Then Daiyu happened. Before I could say 'boo', we were back in her trailer, chasing the dragon. What happened next is still rather fuzzy. I am pretty sure we didn't have sex, with either her or each other, but I am pretty sure we got a private viewing of her contortion act.

But now my head just hurts, and Iago's giggling madly and stumbling over his own feet, and I may just need to sleep this off.  Maybe I just want to get back inside....

Shake my head to make that crawling feeling go away.  I'm being silly, it's not like I am out alone, after all.  Iago is babbling something about his cousins, and I can't follow any of it.  "You are an absolute mess, do you know that?" I say, half sighing, half laughing. "Granted, I am an absolute mess too." We both stumble and barely keep each other from going down face first into the river.

"We are never telling Glass about this, right?"

(open to Iago and Marbas and Kaeli)

[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com

July 3rd, Friday night
Stumbling homewards along the bank of the river


I am not sure who is helping who to walk; Iago helping me or me helping Iago. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to grab him and take him over to La Fee Verte ... but he was mopey and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Admittedly, I don't have the best track record with good ideas. We got drunk on absinthe. Then I thought it would cheer him up ever more, so we went to see the show at The Grindhouse. Then Daiyu happened. Before I could say 'boo', we were back in her trailer, chasing the dragon. What happened next is still rather fuzzy. I am pretty sure we didn't have sex, with either her or each other, but I am pretty sure we got a private viewing of her contortion act.

But now my head just hurts, and Iago's giggling madly and stumbling over his own feet, and I may just need to sleep this off.  Maybe I just want to get back inside....

Shake my head to make that crawling feeling go away.  I'm being silly, it's not like I am out alone, after all.  Iago is babbling something about his cousins, and I can't follow any of it.  "You are an absolute mess, do you know that?" I say, half sighing, half laughing. "Granted, I am an absolute mess too." We both stumble and barely keep each other from going down face first into the river.

"We are never telling Glass about this, right?"

(open to Iago and Marbas and Kaeli)

[identity profile] kira-galliard.livejournal.com
{Early Evening- Tuesday, 29th June ~ Day 394}
{Crossroads DanceHall}


Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive
And the world turning inside out, yeah
And floating around in ecstasy, so
Don't stop me now
Don't stop me
'Cuz I'm having a good time, having a good time


It is finally time to open the doors.
The lights are on- thanks to a couple folks from the fair who came out to help me with 'em. And the musics' done warming up now- sounds of instruments tuning and and the player's psyching each other up have given over to songs playing and feet stomping along.
A few brave souls have opened the dancing and there are mostly smiles all around.

So far so good.

A lot of the younger set know me by now from hiring them for the clean-up, and I put up some signs around town, so hopefully we'll have a good turn out.
And now that the greater part of the haying is done, people are in a good mood. People like to dance and come out and see each other when they're happy. Even in a strange town like this that holds true.

Smooth my skirt as I circle the floor towards the drink stand. I'll probably take a few turns of my own tonight, but mostly my job is to meet people who don't know me yet and get them to like me enough to come back. If the night continues like this, I do think it'll turn out fine.

The band starts another song, and I find my smile is genuine.

(The DanceHall is open to all! Come on in and have fun!)
[identity profile] tereixa-zann.livejournal.com
[Early morning of Sunday, June 27 (day 392)]
[Out in the park]


I smell like beer. Which, since it's oh-god-early on a Sunday morning, sometime between breakfast and church, would be kinda embarrassing if I'd been drinking.

Yesterday was such a soup that I ended up going to bed early (well, early for a Saturday); woke up in the quiet time before dawn and lay awake for a bit watching the wall. There's a blank spot where the blueprint Kent gave me used to be, I used it in the music box, and now Genny's shades-of-grey sketch of my Carousel and the perfect crisp black-on-white Soon. from Management are flanking empty space. Can't really make them out in the dark, but I know they're there.

So I got up and went out and went for a walk,

I went to the Miskatonic because hey--jukebox, how can you go wrong with a jukebox? It helped, it really did. So I was sitting down with coffee to listen to the music when I saw Cain and someone I didn't place heading up the street and not dawdling at all, so I went out to see where they were going and, well, the Abbey is not an unfriendly place so I figured I'd stop by and ask what was going on, or more specifically what broke.

I don't have a lot of experience working with brewing equipment (and there's a faint flicker of guilt, remembering Tez), but a ball valve is a ball valve, right? And cracks and leaks are pretty much the same all over.

So we got the distillery patched up and then cleaned up, and they were nice enough to spot breakfast, and I've got that tired content feeling you get after a good long job. Nice to know I can still improvise, if I need to, even with everything that's changed--and if I can't get what needs fixing, I can still fix.

I'll head home in a bit, but right now I'm just killing a moment in the park. My stomach's full and the tea's keeping me awake and life? Life is honestly feeling pretty good right now. Light a cigarette and stretch out my feet and watch the world go by, and I'm grinning, I can feel it.

[Open]
[Closed]
[identity profile] tereixa-zann.livejournal.com
[Early morning of Sunday, June 27 (day 392)]
[Out in the park]


I smell like beer. Which, since it's oh-god-early on a Sunday morning, sometime between breakfast and church, would be kinda embarrassing if I'd been drinking.

Yesterday was such a soup that I ended up going to bed early (well, early for a Saturday); woke up in the quiet time before dawn and lay awake for a bit watching the wall. There's a blank spot where the blueprint Kent gave me used to be, I used it in the music box, and now Genny's shades-of-grey sketch of my Carousel and the perfect crisp black-on-white Soon. from Management are flanking empty space. Can't really make them out in the dark, but I know they're there.

So I got up and went out and went for a walk,

I went to the Miskatonic because hey--jukebox, how can you go wrong with a jukebox? It helped, it really did. So I was sitting down with coffee to listen to the music when I saw Cain and someone I didn't place heading up the street and not dawdling at all, so I went out to see where they were going and, well, the Abbey is not an unfriendly place so I figured I'd stop by and ask what was going on, or more specifically what broke.

I don't have a lot of experience working with brewing equipment (and there's a faint flicker of guilt, remembering Tez), but a ball valve is a ball valve, right? And cracks and leaks are pretty much the same all over.

So we got the distillery patched up and then cleaned up, and they were nice enough to spot breakfast, and I've got that tired content feeling you get after a good long job. Nice to know I can still improvise, if I need to, even with everything that's changed--and if I can't get what needs fixing, I can still fix.

I'll head home in a bit, but right now I'm just killing a moment in the park. My stomach's full and the tea's keeping me awake and life? Life is honestly feeling pretty good right now. Light a cigarette and stretch out my feet and watch the world go by, and I'm grinning, I can feel it.

[Open]
[Closed]
[identity profile] jamie-kincaid.livejournal.com
[Saturday, June 19th (Day 384)]
[Late Morning, Saturday Market]


Molly's home today and so here I am, taking her place at the market.  I don't mind though because I wanted to get out anyway. 

I was hoping I'd see Jane yesterday but when I went by the bakery, she was out.  Finding out that I was married and then wasn't, for a second time has been one the the strangest things I've gone through in the last year.  I haven't been able to talk to Jane about it, Lily either, but Janie's the one I really wanted to see.  I'm still not sure what I'm going to say anyway.

Sales are good today though and the weather's nice, and I smile, nodding at passing shoppers.  If nothing else, today will have been good for something.


[Open to anyone at the Market]
[Closed]
[identity profile] jamie-kincaid.livejournal.com
[Saturday, June 19th (Day 384)]
[Late Morning, Saturday Market]


Molly's home today and so here I am, taking her place at the market.  I don't mind though because I wanted to get out anyway. 

I was hoping I'd see Jane yesterday but when I went by the bakery, she was out.  Finding out that I was married and then wasn't, for a second time has been one the the strangest things I've gone through in the last year.  I haven't been able to talk to Jane about it, Lily either, but Janie's the one I really wanted to see.  I'm still not sure what I'm going to say anyway.

Sales are good today though and the weather's nice, and I smile, nodding at passing shoppers.  If nothing else, today will have been good for something.


[Open to anyone at the Market]
[Closed]
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
Sunday, June 13th
The Dormouse


I was surprised that Wanda asked me to watch Rose.  Usually she calls on one of the 'hen club', but hey!  I had nothing better to do...

and I heard the rumors.  Curiosity sent me over more than anything else.  Told Lannie I'd be back at some point, and if there was a real emergency I'd be at Wanda's.  Headed over with a book, since Wanda assured me that Rose would most likely be asleep most of the time she was gone.  I got here just as she was done changing the little miss.  Rose lit up in a sleepy way, and her little chubby arms waved at me as I took her from Wanda.  The wistful pang is not as sharp now, when I see Rose.  The 'could have beens' are starting to fade away.  It's all for the good.

I was a little worried when I saw Wanda pick up roses and whiskey.  I wanted to ask her if she was going out to the water tower, to try and... but I bit my lip.  It was none of my business.  So she left, and Rose fell asleep. 

And I worried.  I picked up the book and tried to read... and worried.

......................................................................................................................................

I am still trying to read the same page over two hours later, when I hear the door downstairs open.  I set the book down on the bed, and quietly head downstairs.  Wanda is standing at the sink, pressing a cold compress to her eyes.  She looks... drained.

"You okay?"  I ask quietly, leaning against the doorjam. 

(Closed)
[identity profile] docconstantine.livejournal.com
Sunday, June 13th
The Dormouse


I was surprised that Wanda asked me to watch Rose.  Usually she calls on one of the 'hen club', but hey!  I had nothing better to do...

and I heard the rumors.  Curiosity sent me over more than anything else.  Told Lannie I'd be back at some point, and if there was a real emergency I'd be at Wanda's.  Headed over with a book, since Wanda assured me that Rose would most likely be asleep most of the time she was gone.  I got here just as she was done changing the little miss.  Rose lit up in a sleepy way, and her little chubby arms waved at me as I took her from Wanda.  The wistful pang is not as sharp now, when I see Rose.  The 'could have beens' are starting to fade away.  It's all for the good.

I was a little worried when I saw Wanda pick up roses and whiskey.  I wanted to ask her if she was going out to the water tower, to try and... but I bit my lip.  It was none of my business.  So she left, and Rose fell asleep. 

And I worried.  I picked up the book and tried to read... and worried.

......................................................................................................................................

I am still trying to read the same page over two hours later, when I hear the door downstairs open.  I set the book down on the bed, and quietly head downstairs.  Wanda is standing at the sink, pressing a cold compress to her eyes.  She looks... drained.

"You okay?"  I ask quietly, leaning against the doorjam. 

(Closed)

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