[identity profile] makemyownway.livejournal.com
Like so many weekends before it, the calm of a September Saturday morning was interrupted by the unscheduled opening of a portal in the park. This one sprang to life in a blaze of blue and gold and a burst of glitter before settling into something more stable.

The first to flood out were a score of squirrels, followed by some alots, a few teal deer, and some gremlins who had left Fandom to seek their fortune through biting. Then humans, humanoids, and those we never asked about too closely came through the portal.

Welcome back to Fandom, alums! Even if you hadn't planned on being here this weekend!

[OOC: Feel free to establish your folks coming through if they aren't taking alternative methods to arrive! HAPPY TENTH ANNIVERSARY, FANDOM! Come hang out in the IM chatroom gogremlins if you have time to kill and want to catch up/squee/find out what people have done IRL over ten years...]
so_hawkward: (Default)
[personal profile] so_hawkward
Clint had listened to Tony's radio, and certainly noticed there was more than one of him - ah, the stuff of nightmares - but somehow that hadn't translated to anything in Clint's head until he got to the gym and noticed there were a lot more people than usual, and he didn't recognize most of them.

"Oh, it's one of those weekends," he muttered, shaking his head and moving behind the main desk. Hopefully, more people wouldn't turn into more complaints, and he could do his paperwork in relative peace.
imafuturist: (Default)
[personal profile] imafuturist
So, there were two other Tony Starks in town for the weekend. The only person in the shop who wasn't surprised by that was JARVIS, it would seem. Seeing as how he was one program tweaked by all three of them over the years.

"Okay, how about we get some ground rules about touch each other's things?" Tony suggested.

The Tony his age responded with an eyeroll and a, "You know, I owned this place first."

The baby Tony with, "He's worried his suit won't live up to expectations."

And what followed was an aggressive engineering session.

[OCD free and open!]
[identity profile] no-i-in-york.livejournal.com
The great thing about AI? They were more than happy to do inventory work for you while you sat back with the latest edition of People. Delta didn't mind York's laziness in this case; he always seemed to mess up his extensive system anyway.

[OCD-free!]

MCA Lobby, Sunday

Sunday, June 30th, 2013 07:09 pm
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Coulson didn't actually have much to pack. That was a result of both living a simple life and the way he came to the island pretty suddenly. So here he was, one last evening in the lobby of MCA before heading back to New York, with a duffel on the office desk next to him.

All in all, it had been a reasonably good year break for him. But he was excited to move on to the next stage.

[OOC: I'm not sure I'll find the time to fit this in this week, so doing it now. This will be Coulson's last post. Please follow his further adventures in Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, Tuesdays on ABC this fall!

That said, MCA info here if anyone needs a place to live. If you'd like to manage the building, let me know and your character can have a chat with the owner, Zayne.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
This was Coulson's last day on the job. Soon he would be back in New York, back doing SHIELD work, back making a difference. Still, he would miss the days he spent surrounded by all these weapons. He said a farewell to each of them in his head.

But that was at least partially out of boredom. The day seemed to be dragging, probably because of it being his last day. Oh well. He'd survive. He'd survived worse, after all.
so_hawkward: (Default)
[personal profile] so_hawkward
Okay, so Clint wasn't exactly the smartest guy in the world, but he did like to stay on top of big current events, which was why he'd had his nose buried in his phone since some ungodly hour last night. Normally, he could read the news and walk Lucky at the same time, but it was a more difficult task today with Lucky eyeing another dog in the park instead of doing his business.

"A poodle? Really? Don't do it, boy, she's gonna break your heart," Clint advised. "French ladies don't go for guys like us."

He was totally the best, most helpful dog owner ever, shhh.

[This post is necessary in so many ways. Open!]

Freedom Arms, Sunday

Sunday, June 9th, 2013 11:44 am
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
With Coulson's time in Fandom winding down for a big new mission, he was taking an inventory of the most ridiculous weapons in the store, just in case they ever made their way out of Fandom and into his world. It wasn't likely to be an issue, but he still liked being prepared.

This list was a personal list, of course. He wasn't stealing weapons designs for SHIELD. SHIELD could come up with those without any encouragement.

Caritas- Tuesday

Tuesday, June 4th, 2013 12:29 pm
throughaphase: (Default)
[personal profile] throughaphase
Ever since the Stryker thing especially, Kitty had sort of been thinking of actually teaching a class here, and the last picnic had really just encouraged that idea. So when she had some free time at the bar tonight, she found herself jotting down some potential class ideas on a cocktail napkin.

Was it wrong to be thinking of a second job while at your first job? Possibly, but she was the boss, so.

Freedom Arms, Sunday

Sunday, June 2nd, 2013 12:55 pm
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
It seemed like an unfortunate coincidence that Freedom Arms happened to get a big extra shipment of knives on the same day the students moved from the dorms to inflatable bouncy castles. But supply and demand being what it was, it was a day for a knife sale.

Buy one, get one half off all knives in the store!


Coulson carved that into cardstock with one of the knives. They were very useful.

Caritas- Tuesday

Tuesday, May 14th, 2013 12:35 pm
throughaphase: (Default)
[personal profile] throughaphase
It was a perfectly ordinary day at the bar. Tino was there, there was enough to do without driving Kitty crazy, and okay the band was a big fan of the Girl From Ipanema today but that happened sometimes.

Kitty felt a little off for some reason, though, and she'd come to decide that there should be a rule against not feeling 100% while wearing leather pants because it took all the badass right out of it.


[Thread with Clint goes chronologically last!]

Freedom Arms, Sunday

Sunday, May 12th, 2013 08:45 am
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
When Coulson walked into work today, he did so holding a letter. This was strange since it was delivered today, on a Sunday. So if nothing else, he knew it was coming from an agency above the Post Office. He had an idea of what that might be....

Coulson opened the letter, read it, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. It was a head's up from Fury. At long last, he needed Coulson back in the field. Coulson had a few weeks to get back into field condition, then it would be time to go.

So if anyone stopped into the Freedom Arms today, they might notice that Coulson's expression was less of a sly smirk and more of a genuine smile. He was going to spend so much time at the shooting range during his off hours.

[OOC: I will barely be around today due to being a good son on Mother's Day. Open for SP, though!]
justlurkinghere: (Default)
[personal profile] justlurkinghere
It had been some time since the last gremlin/human conflict. Or, in this case, gremlin/werewolf. So, it was long overdue that someone be bitten.

Derek would have begged to differ on this simple fact, but that was only because he was the one who had been bit as he innocently walked home from town. Bitten and turned into the most fearsome of all monsters out there...

The hugwolf.

The wind blew over the neatly trimmed grass of the park, never giving away how much danger all were in with a hugwolf on the prowl. Never giving away the insatiable nature of it's cuddling.

[[Totally open if you want to be hugged!]]

Freedom Arms, Sunday

Sunday, May 5th, 2013 12:38 pm
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Coulson still wasn't sure about this whole "weapons store that actually sells weapons" thing, but at least it let him express himself a little more in terms of signs.

Going out into the real world now that you've graduated?
You should be packing heat!
Or at least a good knife.


Sometimes Coulson thought he got into the wrong industry. Sign making was the best. (That was a lie.)

Caritas, Sunday

Sunday, April 28th, 2013 05:17 pm
[identity profile] shagthis.livejournal.com
The weirdness had, yet again, skipped Jake.

He was honestly at the point where his relief at being skipped over by these things actually looped around full circle until he was worried that this meant Fandom had something big planned for him, eventually.

It's a good thing he worked in a bar, because Jake's method of dealing with this sort of sense of foreboding was to drink. Heavily.
furnaceface: (Default)
[personal profile] furnaceface
There were worse ways to wake up, Jono supposed, than in a warm bed with a happy-looking cat curled up on his feet. At least, generally, there were. But mornings that looked good at a glance tended to have him suspicious. Call it paranoia if you wanted to, a result of the status being not so quo as he was told it once had been. Jono preferred to think of it as 'having a survival instinct.' One didn't ally oneself with Magneto's cause and survive for very long by taking unnecessary risks, after all.

Particularly not with individuals like Colossus and Shadowcat doing the training.

It hadn't taken much, at least, for Jonothon to ascertain that the building wasn't harbouring a mess of booby traps, and he'd even found the fridge more or less stocked with food that hadn't gone green in places it wasn't supposed to be. Good. He hadn't really wanted to end up eating the cat if he found himself getting hungry, after all. He made a note of that, and decided that the - it looked like a theatre, some remnant from back when the world apparently made some measure of sense - would make a decent home base to return to, if nothing else, provided he couldn't figure out where the hell he was before he needed to sleep again. There was a castle out there, he'd noticed it through the kitchen window while rummaging for food, but it was most certainly not the one he was familiar with, the one that was tucked away in the middle of the Colorado Rockies.

The other members of Generation Next, wherever the hell they were at, would definitely get a kick out of this place.

Jono, however, was mostly getting a kick out of the acoustic guitar that he'd come across downstairs, obviously lovingly tended to and sitting on a stand by an office door. He'd had one of these things as a young boy, back when his granddad would tell him stories of a world before Apocalypse had assumed control of everything, but civilization had gone to hell so quickly that he'd never really had time to get very good at it. He wasn't much good with it, obviously. That sort of thing tended to go to the wayside when you didn't touch it for a good decade or so. But that wasn't going to stop him from taking a few moments before setting out to explore just to stand against the wall and try to remember where his fingers were supposed to go in order to make something a little more like music and a little less like noise.

... It was slow going.

[OOC: Open! Jono is himself, but from Marvel's Age of Apocalypse AU! He won't stick around the Boards for long today, so feel free to mod the Boards for your own nefarious purposes for the rest of the weekend if you want to.]
throughaphase: (Default)
[personal profile] throughaphase
Kitty hadn't really realized just how exhausted she'd been until she woke up after noon today. And then she took another shower just because she could (sorry, environment!), sent out an email telling people where she'd be, and headed down to the beach for a little bonfire while the weather was okay.

And then in went the sleep clothes she'd been wearing for the last week. Part of her felt bad that she wasn't just donating them somewhere, but they were torn in places and there was blood on them and the smell would probably never come out. Besides, as soon as she did it, she felt a ton better.

So there you, go, Fandom. Have some catharsis.


[Open! If you want to have gotten an email, you did.]
[identity profile] nomeatvirgin.livejournal.com
It had been made clear to Ron that there was a strange problem going about the island. This problem involved the sudden disappearance of many of the town's residents. Personally, he felt it was rather a matter of personal responsibility, but as the mayor he should make some effort to find them again.

And then advise them all to take some self-defense lessons. Because really now.

Anyway, he'd been scouting the woods for a while now. Rifle in hand, quiet, listening. Watching. So far? No hint of anything. Maybe they were all involved in a cult, like Communism.

...

There was a clearing. There was a very large clearing. Ron could not remember seeing this clearing on any maps. But it was there. And it was full of people-- in various stages of dress (and that dress varied from the weird to the bizarre)-- sprawled across the grass.

"Definitely a cult."

He cleared his throat and backed away. They could deal with... their own business.

[ this is your post-BDE wake-up post! injuries sustained during the BDE can be kept or discarded at your leisure. ]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Coulson had gone the whole week so far without losing his cool or - aside from the regular, planned times - even loosening his tie. The reason for this was simple: the man was a consummate professional. It was simple enough for him to merely apply his own personal strength of will to his libido and there was at least one person not making a fool of himself on the island.

He was eating a lot of donuts as a result of this, though. There was only so much will to go around, after all. Using up so much of it on the sex thing meant that junk food was able to sneak past his defenses. But if donuts were going to get the better of him, at least they would be tasty.

And so a middle aged man was at J,GoB, eating some jelly donuts. Take that, sex pollen. Take that hard.

[OOC: I don't know. Post is open for any pastry or Coulson needs.]
justlurkinghere: (Default)
[personal profile] justlurkinghere
If Derek hadn't had to come in for his job, he would have been out in the woods, trying to work off some of the energy that had been building up this week. The very, very strange energy that he did not like in the slightest.

And meant he was taking several showers and occasionally a dive into the ocean.

The DJ helped nothing with his insistence on playing music with more than just slightly suggestive lyrics. Because he was a dick like that.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Coulson had heard about the new mayor/owner and the name change. He even understood that with Cable gone, actually selling guns might happen. But the change that Coulson found strangest was the wooden eagle at the entrance. It would take some getting used to.

But regardless of what else changed, Coulson was still there. And he was still keeping his own secret notes on inventory, who he sold what to, and so on. Coulson was consistent. He was also here to help you. For freedom. And for arms.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
There had been an incident at the dry cleaners. It was unfortunate, people had been stared down, it was getting fixed. But that meant Coulson didn't have any suits ready for today. Fortunately, he found an old flannel shirt and was at least able to avoid going shirtless all day.

But then when he got to the shop and tried to set the stereo in the relaxation area with whale song, it turned out there was a CD of grunge hits of the 90s stuck in there.

It was a little weird, but Coulson would endure.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
While Coulson was still striking from spying on people with his fellow squirrels, he was going to go to work at his other job. Although he was wearing a brown ribbon on his lapel in support.

He drew the line at ordering and buying tiny little catapults for them to launch nuts at people more effectively during their protests. Coulson strongly believed in the non-violent approach here. That was why he had a small, nut-sized bruise on his forehead, but he wasn't going to let that concern him. He was in a meditation center, after all. That helped him deal with it.

[OOC: Open, although I will likely be running off in a little bit to do some errands.]
solo_sword: (Default)
[personal profile] solo_sword
After this long in Fandom, Jaina was used to rolling with things. If you saw a squirrel picket line, you stepped around it. If there was green stuff pouring out of your faucets, you ran out for some bottled water instead. If there were teal deer in the bar, you acknowledged it and then tried your best to ignore them. And if a lot of today's alcohol was green, well, you ran a special. It was St. Patrick's Day anyway.

SPECIALS
25% OFF GREEN BEER AND WHISKEY
WE HAVE NO NON-GREEN BEER AND WHISKEY.


And if you found Tiny trying to see if a teal deer would drink green beer, you threatened to take him out back and slap him around some.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
There had been some negotiations, some planning, and some sign making, but it was official. Even though he was human and not technically a squirrel outside of some freelance work, Coulson was on strike with his squirrely brethren. And that's why he was standing outside the radio station today, marching with a sign that read 'EQUAL RUM FOR EQUAL WORK."

Below that, in smaller handwriting, it said 'That doesn't make sense, but what do you expect? It was written by a sober squirrel.'

Frankly, Coulson thought the sign could have been better, but who was he to say anything? He was just a freelancer. He was happy enough to leave the signage decisions to the squirrels in charge.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
According to his loose plan, Coulson's night involved the Perk, orange tea, a crossword puzzle, and some quiet.

According to the universe's plan, Coulson's night actually involved the Perk, orange tea, slapstick comedy, wet pants, a second cup of orange tea that at no point sailed through the air, a quick change in the restroom because he of course had emergency pants, a crossword puzzle while his tea-stained pants dried next to him, and the occasional reassurances to the barista that it was okay. There was a reason why he carried emergency pants, after all.

[OOC: It's been a long day. Open.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
With everyone back on the island, Coulson figured he should make sure the place was nice and tidy just in case anyone spent their break week really wanting to get a gun that they would probably not be allowed to buy. He even put up a couple signs indicating "SPECIAL DEAL" on a few select weapons, but the 'special' part was that it didn't exist and the 'deal' was that he'd be watching you more closely in the future.

There was a reason why professional spies didn't usually work retail as part of their cover.

[OOC: I'm pretty much AFK all day, so you couldn't take advantage of the fake deals anyway. MULTIPLE LAYERS OF SPYCRAFT.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
As he expected, Coulson did not walk out of last night with a new love connection or anything of the sort. (Although he did meet at least one interesting person, and that's why he made sure some of the best blades in the store were on display for any possible future visits.) But he was okay with that. He mostly went last night so he could point it out to Agent Barton the next time the subject of getting him a girlfriend came up.

But that was then, and now he had plenty of other things to focus on. Like making sure the gun range was up to standards, and the same for the cushions in the relaxation area. Two opposite ends of the spectrum, of course, but both vitally important to the running of Wellspring.
[identity profile] willbethenight.livejournal.com
A sign was posted at the front door:

Caritas Presents:
3 MINUTE DATES


With less pomp and circumstance than usual, it was time to start the dates right at 8:00. Fandom alum Bruce Wayne strode out onto the stage with some notecards in one hand and a rather festive-looking drink in the other.

"Good evening. Welcome to Caritas, and welcome to Three Minute Dates. If you're in the student group and have been in Fandom at least a year now, there's a fair chance that you already know that I'm Bruce Wayne, because I probably met you on a date at one of these events," Bruce said, giving a small smile and a shrug. "But on the chance that you didn't meet me that way, hi, it's nice to meet you now. I graduated from Fandom High in 2012. Before then, I apparently did so many of these things that when they needed a host, somebody remembered me and figured I was qualified."

"So, clearly, 3 Minute Dates didn't work for me in the long-term. But I had enough fun meeting people and making connections that I came back time after time. I hope all of you have at least that same kind of experience." Bruce took a sip of his drink before placing it on the stool next to him.

"But enough of that. Let's get things started. First things first, let me introduce your Fandom High Gremlins cheerleaders, who have been good enough to cheer everyone on. And, according to my notes, it looks like several of them will even be participating in the dates. Second, the rules are simple. I'll read off the names of the pairings in each round. You'll meet up, talk for three minutes, and then the zombie drummer will hit the gong and we'll move to the next round. After doing this five times, the dates are over and the next round will be at the bar and will be drinks. I'm paying."

"Good luck, everyone!"

[The Bar Before the Dates | Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3 | Round 4 | Round 5 | OOC]
[Regular post-dates Caritas post]

[OOC: Three minutes = ten comments total, five per person. You don't need to do your threads chronologically, but try not to Joss yourself.

Epic OCD is beginning.For the love of god, please wait until I'm done. all set! Go, play! Big thanks to [livejournal.com profile] solo_sword for the assist!

If I made a blatant mistake, like skipping a character completely for a round or posting a pairing twice, feel free to grab me on AIM or in the OOC thread and I'll make a quick fix. Remember, attacks on your dates will get you teleported elsewhere on the island.

Also remember that most playing should happen on Saturday, but if you need to finish things up on Sunday, that's fine.

A regular post-dates Caritas post will go up Saturday afternoon.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Agent Barton's words at last night's game night struck a chord with Coulson. Maybe he did need to loosen up. So when he came to work today, there was something different about him.

He wasn't wearing a tie clip.

No, he didn't actually think that was loosening up. That was a joke for himself to enjoy. Although considering that he actually could and had used a tie clip in self defense, maybe it was a little bit true. He now had fewer weapons on his body. That probably counted for something.

Anyway, Wellspring Arms was open.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
In a town where the dead mainly rose to say hi or maybe play music in a nightclub, Coulson supposed there wasn't much need for weapons to battle the zombie hoards. But still, he set up a display with a wooden baseball bat and a cricket bat, just to be inclusive. He also put a sign up with the display reading "Next time they may not be friendly."

Just another day at your friendly neighborhood weapons and relaxation store.
throughaphase: (Default)
[personal profile] throughaphase
There were dead people walking around the island, and apparently it was the opposite of what every movie ever told you: it was a good thing. To be honest, Kitty was really excited by the idea. She'd lost a lot of people over the last seven years. One of those deaths had led to her upending her whole life. She wanted the chance to see some of them again. Of course, she'd had to hear about it on radio, rather than running into someone she thought was gone forever. So she'd gotten out, thinking that would be better than staying in her apartment all day, and nothing.

By now she was accepting that anyone who'd have come to see her would have found her right away. Which meant that she just didn't have anyone here.

Still not wanting to go back to her apartment as that way led to wallowing and probably tears, Kitty went to the park and found an empty bench where she could pull her feet up to her chest and just sit for a while. ...And watch the gremlin that seemed to be skating on the lake as if testing whether or not the ice was thick enough-

Nope, it wasn't.


[Boredom won out against common sense in not depressing my characters at work. Come distract me from my headache.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Coulson decided to get into the spirit of the weekend at work. There were a few weapons that he liked enough to name and, frankly, was waiting for an invasion so he would have an excuse to use them. Like Jenna, the sniper rifle. Or Kristen, the vintage six shooter. Or Alexis, the big energy gun that Coulson wasn't sure he could even lift, but that he suspected could shoot through a tank.

Today they were James, Christopher, and Alexander. Nobody would know this, of course, because Coulson didn't make a habit of telling people that he named the weapons.

Wellspring Arms was open!
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Coulson was focused on the meditation center again today. If anyone wanted sounds to help their meditation, he had Sounds of the Sea, Forest at Night, Nothing But Rain, and Battlefield Sound Effects #23.

... Look, some people found that familiar. The very owner of this store probably would. Coulson preferred the sea.

Whatever your choice, Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center was open.

Caritas, Saturday

Saturday, January 12th, 2013 01:32 pm
[identity profile] hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com
Today April had received her official schedule for the community college classes she was going to be taking. It was full of times and locations and names of classes, and naturally it needed to be destroyed.

Tino didn't appear to be in today, so April placed a neatly-written sign on the bar reading "Yell if you need service," then went to the lounge to throw darts at the sheet of paper. She was being kind of loud about it, occasionally cursing when she didn't quite hit the target.

April was definitely going places in life.

MCA Lobby, Saturday

Saturday, January 12th, 2013 10:07 am
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
After being here at MCA for a little bit, Coulson had the lay of the land. And that meant now he had to figure out where to hide what weapons in case of invasion while he was in the office. Obviously, the pulse rifle was locked up in the office with a fingerprint lock. But a trusty garotte could be hidden in a potted plant. Brass knuckles under a couch. A taser hidden in a lamp in the office.

So if anyone passed by and noticed Coulson looking at all of the fixtures and furnishings nonchalantly, that was just his way of not letting them know that he was prepared for bad things to happen at any given moment. Because that might be weird to find out about the building manager. Especially one who was always wearing a suit.

[OOC: MCA info here if anyone needs a place to live.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
It was kind of a change of pace for Coulson to be back at his original Fandom job after working at MCA for several days, but he didn't mind it. It felt good to once again be surrounded by enough weapons for him to single-handedly turn back some forms of invasion. To commemorate this, Coulson was going to clean some of the display models since, you know, they mostly just sat there, locked up and unused by anyone or else. There was no sense in letting them get dusty.

MCA Lobby, Saturday

Saturday, January 5th, 2013 02:41 pm
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
It was Coulson's first big day at the new job. He was already moved in, he already organized all the paperwork, and now he was ready for new people on the island in case they needed someplace to live. To prove that he was ready, he was even wearing a red power tie. Just to note, the tie did not actually grant Coulson any supernatural powers. This was a power tie in the common sense of the phrase.

He was still ready.

[OOC: MCA info here Plenty of apartments available!]

Caritas- Tuesday

Tuesday, January 1st, 2013 02:35 pm
throughaphase: (Default)
[personal profile] throughaphase
Kitty didn't start 2013 with a hangover or anything like that. She did, however, get to start it by working. Good thing she liked her job.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Your first drink is free!


That might at least make her first shift of the new year more entertaining...
texted3times: (Default)
[personal profile] texted3times
Eric would have hosted the New Year's Eve party at the Devil's Nest, but he suspected that the students wouldn't appreciate his "no, no alcohol for you" stance and here in a different venue, he could avoid some of the liability. (Eric hadn't lived a thousand years by being a very stupid vampire.)

The ballroom was decked out far more classily than it had for school dances in shades of cream, silver, and black: there were sumptuous fabrics draped to soften the room , gilt mirrors to add light, and sparkling crystal because Eric liked expensive crystal. For those who ate, there was top shelf alcohol, more than enough champagne and all kinds of fancy appetizers (and pigs in blankets because shut up). For those who didn't eat, well, the bartenders wouldn't be suprised for requests of O Positive.

The DJ was playing the top 40 hits of the year, but could be persuaded to play anything that wasn't Justin Bieber (Eric had glamoured the hell out of him had a Talk with him, and now as far as the DJ knew, Justin Bieber didn't exist).

Happy New Year's Eve, Fandom. Put on your tuxedo and come party with a vampire.

...as you do.

[OOC: Open to all! Up early for timezones, real life NYE plans and so on!]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
After receiving a voicemail last night, Coulson knew that he would very shortly have another job to keep himself busy. And that was helpful. An active Coulson was a Coulson who stayed sharp and didn't, say, feel the need to get into back alley fight clubs. Not that he was a member of one. But another couple months and he probably would have started one for suited gentlemen.

But again, no need for that. Although now that he was looking at his voicemail, he noticed that he was getting A LOT of stuff from telemarketers. He wasn't sure what this Trade Whatever was, but he missed the days where he could just make a couple phone calls to ensure that they would be too scared to ever call again.

[OOC: Slightly method RP for that last part. OH THE SPAMMERS. Spotty throughout the day, but I am around. Ish.]
so_hawkward: (Default)
[personal profile] so_hawkward
Now that there weren't any polar bears wandering around the island - sure, this was the right hemisphere and all, but seriously, how did that even work? - Clint felt more comfortable taking Lucky for a walk around the park.

Okay, so he wasn't exactly comfortable, since it was kind of cold outside, but he had a Santa hat on to keep himself extra warm... and so did Lucky, because he was the most spoiled dog ever. Or because Clint was the most whipped dog owner ever. It was still up for debate.

[Open!]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Since the taps featured some kind of wine today, Coulson set up the meditation area in Wellspring to be a kind of wine lounge. There were pillows to sit on, there were glasses to drink from, and there was Coulson, being something of a wine snob. Don't be surprised, he was totally the type.

Coulson wasn't always the most on top of traditional forms of meditation, but he could do this.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Where some people might find annoyances, Phil Coulson, Agent of SHIELD, found weapons.

That was why he now had a box filled with humming bugs and bleating sheep. And until he had to use it, it also served as in-store music. His toe was tapping.
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
By the time he got into work today, there were a few things different about Coulson. For one, he wasn't feeling as fast or strong as he did yesterday, possibly because he used up a lot of his spells. On the other hand, he had plenty of ice for his drinks, so was that really such a bad thing?

Maybe the more startling thing? He was wearing a yellow polo shirt and khakis. He just didn't like the way his suit looked on him today, so he went office casual. Between the khakis and the iced tea, you might think that he had eased up enough to sell you a weapon.

You would be wrong.
so_hawkward: (Default)
[personal profile] so_hawkward
Clint had woken up with a bad feeling about this weekend.

Honestly, thanks to the past few months, it wasn't unusual for him to wake up on Saturdays with a generally uneasy sense. But this was a much sharper, clearer Bad Feeling, and Clint had found that the best way to deal with that kind of sensation was to go shoot at things until he stopped thinking. That method worked a lot better, however, when he didn't miss everything he shot at.

If anyone needed Clint this morning, he'd be at the gym, sitting quietly behind the desk with his bad feelings, waiting for whatever this was to go the hell away.

[Open!]
fates_jaye: (Default)
[personal profile] fates_jaye
So, apparently, when you spontaneously turned telepathic, it was pretty easy to figure out you were telepathic.

Which was why sitting in the Perk was probably a bad idea if you were Jaye today, because all she was trying to do was get nice and caffeinated and have a muffin and now she was stuck listening to the clerk's brain talk about how she'd dropped a danish on the floor and put it in the case or go on about the new guy she was dating in way more detail than she wanted to know.

"Great," Jaye muttered, "now everything talks to me."


[So very open.]
[identity profile] firstnameagent.livejournal.com
Last weekend, Coulson was an assassin dressed as a baby. This weekend, Coulson was running inventory at Wellspring, just in case there were any weapons that inexplicably went missing last week.

Frankly, this week was better.
solo_sword: (Default)
[personal profile] solo_sword
It was Jaina's thirteenth wedding (...second marriage) and you might think that meant the wedding might be less extravagant than the last twelve, but no. Not when the Winchesters and Starks were destroyed and she had Skywalker money at her disposal. The outdoor wedding (as it was a suspiciously perfect day for it being November) was elaborate and perfect, and the whole town should be in attendance, because that was how things worked (because there were dresses that had to be shown on camera, okay).

Now as long as no long-lost relatives showed up, no one died, a freak storm didn't happen, no one fell into a coma, no one got arrested, there were no catfights in the pond, nothing exploded, or no one in the wedding ran off with their real true love, it would be a perfect day.
furnaceface: (Default)
[personal profile] furnaceface
Upon the miraculous appearance of little Angelo-nee-Jims, Jonothon Evan Starsmore, the stunningly handsome and formerly ridiculously wealthy priest-in-training ex-rock-star descendant of the late Jack Starsmore, once heir of the vast Starsmore Fortune, estranged leader of the mighty and powerful Clan Akkaba, and recently stripped of Mysterious Powers of Which He Never Spoke... had felt a stroke of inspiration. If asked, he'd say that he was merely acting out the will of God, who had smiled upon him yesterday, letting him join the priesthood and take young Jims Angelo under his watchful eye.

But really, Jonothon just didn't want to risk losing his own bed and property when he made his poverty vows. He was still very new to this priesthood thing, and looking properly tormented all the time was difficult to do attractively when you didn't get enough sleep.

Either way, Fandom Island now had an orphanage on it, as was right and proper on weekends such as these. After all, there really wasn't any shortage of illegitimate lovechildren being passed about, was there? And this way, they could be raised properly, without the influence of sex, drugs, and illicit sushi to guide them away from the right path in life.

Rock and roll was still on the table, though.

[Open orphanage is open!]

Fandom High RPG



About the Game

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Once Upon a Time...
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Disclaimer

Fandom High is a not-for-profit text-based game/group writing exercise, featuring fictional characters and settings from a variety of creators, used without permission but for entertainment purposes only.

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