fandomtownies | Entries tagged with bruce wayne

craftyladyparts.livejournal.com

It was the last day of the reunion and Jessica figured she needed to take a moment alone. Get some solitude, a place to be with her thoughts for a little bit, in a quiet place. The beach would work. Have some white noise from the water, what could possibly be more relaxing.

When she got there, food was already on the grill, the volleyball net was set up, and a pig was sitting next to a spit, eating from a trough. There had to be a story there. And wait, who started grilling food on a beach only to leave it, and a pig? If this was Fandom magic, it was really weird Fandom magic.

Anyway, alone-time apparently wasn't happening. She could settle for some BBQ as long as she avoided anything that might have come from that pig's family.

The Impromptu Labor Day Beach Cookout was on!

fh_office

The strange spell lifted as the sun came down, and left dozens of gremlins looking confused and bewildered all over the island. They skittered home quickly to tell tales of their terrible, no-good-day. Soon, a decision was made, and lo and behold, just an hour after sundown, signs started to appear everywhere reading SORY and WE MAKE IT UP TO U, pointing helpfully towards a clearing in the wooded area.

You wouldn't be able to miss it. For one, there was loud singing and drums that were audible from quite far away, and for two, there were very large torches sticking out everywhere, casting a glow across the woods.

There were many gremlins strewn across the clearing, and they all looked Very Apologetic. And if the gremlins themselves didn't look apologetic enough, well, there were also tables with enormous amounts of food. That was how Fandom worked, yes?

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! gremlins party hard! ]]

bigdamnprincipal

Originally, this was going to be a much smaller event, but then Fandom had to be Fandom and Portalocity had to be Portalocity, and now Zoe was wondering if there would be enough food for everyone or if she'd have to get things from the local restaurants.

For the moment though, everything was set up nicely. There were tables and chairs set up with blue and gold tablecloths, each covered with glitter from years of use. There were balloons, streamers, and other slightly tasteful decorations, also covered in glitter from years of being stored with things that were also covered in glitter. Don't worry, no one had died from a glitter overdose yet.

Once the food was set out and the (non-tainted) punch was ready, it seemed like things were as good to go as they'd ever be. If things got too crowded, hopefully a fire marshal wasn't among the folks who had come back to town.

[We appear to have broken the post, huzzah! Please use these links to get around: Arrive/Mingle | Food/Drink | Dancing | Shadowy Corner | Corner of 2005 | OOC]

ultimatehottie.livejournal.com

A sign was posted at the front door:

Caritas Presents:
3 MINUTE DATES

Promptly at 8:00, the zombie band started playing music and the bassist lurched forward to do an interpretive dance explaining the rules of the dates. It wasn't long before Tino was pushing Johnny on stage while holding cue cards.

"Dude, seriously, I just came here for a drink. We just got back. What the hell?" Johnny asked. Tino held up a cue card. "I'm not dating. I have a girlfriend." Tino put the cue card down and held up a leather jacket and a pocket knife. "Hey hey hey wait. Where'd you get that?" With his pocket knife hand, Tino reached back down for the cue card. "Okay, fine. Just don't hurt the jacket. That thing means a lot to me."

"Ahem. Welcome to Three Minute Dates! If you're lucky, you might just get matched with me, Joanie Storm, come on, man, you got my name-- No, no, you're right. Joanie. Anyway, good luck and good dating." Johnny pointed to the assembled daters, mirroring an exaggerated point Tino was doing at that moment. "Seriously man, this is a weird level of dedication."

[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 ~~begins.~~ is up MERE HOURS later than usual. Apologies again for any overnight and/or timezone inconveniences. I'm going back to sleep now.

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.

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 sometime.]

myownface

It was Valentine's Day, and love was in the air! Or pollen. Love pollen? Something like that, anyway. It wasn't like the holiday cared any, after all. Not when there was a dance to be had. And this year's dance had just the thing to take everybody's mind off of that pesky pollen!

That's right, dancing. Which, to the uninitiated, might seem a bit redundant for a dance, but Town Hall wasn't having any of that. The whole place was decorated to look like a dance club, complete with funky blue mood lighting and laser lights. Glowsticks were optional, glitter was everywhere and might or might not be an excellent excuse for boykissy, and the music tracks tonight seemed to be a selection of Marvin Gaye and Barry White music... Along with a selection of songs from Lords of Acid.

One did not question the dance. The dance knew what music the students needed today.

[ Arrival/Mingling | Photographer | Punch & Food | Dance Floor | Shadowy Corners | Chaperones | OOC ]

stillamthenight.livejournal.com

It was time to take the dog for a walk. This wasn't normally a big issue, but Bruce's knees were bothering him today. So when it was time to clean up the stuff that tended to happen during dog walks, it was harder than normal to get up from being bent over.

But eventually he got up, did what needed to be done with the bag, and waved his hand a little after disposing of it. "Sometimes I wish I was even a little younger, boy. At least then my knees wouldn't be such a problem."

Ace gave Bruce a confused look as his face changed. The hair was a little darker, some wrinkles lessened or even disappeared, his posture straightened. "Something just happened, didn't it?" Bruce asked Ace. He ended up patting his own knees just to make sure there wasn't anything sketchy going on. "At least my knees feel better. I'd like to know what's happening this time, though."

That was apparently close enough to a wave, so he did. "Huh."

[OOC: Open!]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Bruce Wayne was leaving town. Considering how that went last time Bruce left, it might be a while - his time, at least - before he was back. So he was going away in a way he would remember no matter how much he claimed he wouldn't: with an open bar.

Come one, come all, drink on Bruce's dime and listen to whatever that was that the zombies were playing.

willbethenight.livejournal.com

That silliness last weekend wasn't exactly the last straw, but it was a convenient excuse. Bruce needed to return to Gotham City. Gotham had been without its Dark Knight for far too long now, and Baruch was convinced that Fandom was in good hands, both in terms of protecting its inhabitants and spending his money. Furthermore, his allies back in Gotham had surely become more self-reliant, so his return would only help things there.

And so he decided to go out the way Bruce Wayne must: by renting out Caritas for a going away party for himself. Signs went up around town.

Bruce Wayne is Going Home
And He's Saying Goodbye With An Open Bar
Saturday Night at Caritas
Thanks for a Great Year's Vacation!

[OOC: Open if anyone wants to catch Bruce putting flyers up around town and doesn't mind SP until after work!]

fh_thumbprick

Had the carnival changed? Retreated? No, but perhaps it had filled up even worse over the past twenty-four hours or so.

The look on that mustached man's face certainly exuded a certain amount of triumph as the lights went on again early on Sunday morning. He stabbed the ground with his cane and watched; if experience counted for anything, then there would be yet more pouring into his carnival today.

The feeding was good, here.

That scent of cotton candy rolled over the island once more, and the carnival's music touched what it could not.

It's a new day, Fandom. Come, enjoy it.

throughaphase

Ever go in to work just because you were bored?

Shut up, normal people do too do that.

Anyway, Kitty was behind the bar tonight, trying to keep herself entertained by watching the zombies rehearse. You'd think they would be doing more than practicing considering this was their job, but eh.

[Method RP. Entertain meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.]

begmetwice.livejournal.com

You know what Irene did not need, want, or ask for? An enormous shipment of rubber chickens.

She was sort of stuck with them, though, and wondering who in the world these were meant for -- they had the correct address on the shipping label, but....

Well. She of all people knew better than to judge. The heart wants what it wants, after all.

(Maybe it wasn't the heart doing the wanting, in this case. Still.)

In any case, Irene was left quietly putting out the rubber chickens in a back corner, hoping against hope that she didn't have to sell any to anyone anytime soon. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep from giggling, honestly.

not_every_mage

It was Sunday evening. Maybe in other, better cities people were waking up from the naps they took to sleep off Grandma's pot roast dinner after church. Maybe they were riding bikes under streetlights or swinging on suburban porch swings, counting fireflies.

But this was Fandom, and Fandom Sundays were a lot like any other day. Which meant the magic had to keep coming. Anders had an opening shift, which meant he had to sweep up the cigarette butts and wipe the sticky rings of dried hooch off the tables, and check to make sure all the props and sheet music were in order for the night. It was dumb, and dull, and more than a little gross, but it kept him on the owners' good sides and that was where he liked to be.

He fretted as he went through the routine of busywork. The kid, Elsa -- the chatter backstage was that she was up for a couple special jobs. She was way too young for anything like that, but Anders wasn't the type to stick his neck out, not when it would just give somebody like Angelface a perfect chance to slit his throat. Besides, Karla wasn't dumb. If anybody could going to keep Elsa pure, Karla could.

Once the club was in tip-top shape for the night, Anders went backstage to get into costume, chat with the girls, and wait for the show to begin.

glacial_queen

The Community Center was decorated in Fandom's signature blue and gold, with streamers and flags and the odd Fighting Gremlin banner. There was a tasteful amount of glitter among the decorations, assuming that person in charge of taste was a four year old hyped up on candy and Red Bull while huffing glue made from unicorns.

In short, Fandom's alumni, ex-pats, and current teachers should feel right at home, nostalgia hitting them right in the sinuses.

You're welcome, Fandom alumni. Don't forget to donate to the Alumni Association!

In one place, the invitation had said listed the dresscode as 'casual-formalwear.' In another, it was 'formal-casualwear.' Whatever that meant for clothing, it included a DJ, armed with only his collection of 'Easy Listening', and an open bar, but the food was served buffet style, with everyone helping themselves.

Hoped you still liked 'Kiss from a Rose' after the sixth playing tonight, folks!

[Open to all alumni of the school, including those who still live in town, ex-pats, and teachers/faculty of the school. If you need a reason to show up to the island in time for Noir Weekend, here it is. Even if you don't need a reason--here it is anyway! OCD up, have fun!]

professor-lyman.livejournal.com

Since there was no need for a mid-summer welcome picnic, the administration had splashed out on this one: the tables (located under giant tents) were groaning with sidedishes from corn on the cob to potato chips to baked beans to several dodgy-looking jello salads and the grills were set up along the beach cooking chicken, hamburgers, hot dogs, ribs and veggie burgers. There was an ice cream sundae bar, watermelons, enough lemonade and ice tea to swim in (please don't swim in it), coolers for more adult beverages if you were an adult or sneaky about it, and areas roped off for tug of war and relay races and pick-up softball games if people were in the mood to be more active than just stuffing their faces and waiting for it to get dark.

The music was playing loudly--one of the more esoteric of the zombie band's offerings--and the sun was shining. It's hot, it's humid. It's the 4th of July and there's plenty of free food to go around. Come on over!

willbethenight.livejournal.com

With his teaching responsibilities a thing of the past and Bruce now on his final few weeks left in Fandom before he went back to Gotham City, it was time for him to refocus his efforts on the Fandom branch of the Foundation. It had done plenty of good, yes, but he needed to make sure it both had more people devoted to keeping it going - whether they were ~~NPC~~ quieter or ~~PCs~~ a little more outgoing, it didn't matter - and it had something to build on before he left. A goodbye party for himself seemed like exactly the right thing for a billionaire playboy like Bruce Wayne.

He was going to have to have his secretary research bands to play while he put the "Help Wanted" sign in the window again.

[OOC: We got out early and I'm taking advantage by actually posting Bruce's job!

Open, for employees, volunteers, or passersby!]

amthenight.livejournal.com

Batman stood before the water. His time in Fandom was done. He had work to get back to in Gotham City. It was time for him to leave. He just needed to wait for his ride now. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small remote. He pressed the button and waited.

Several minutes later, the Batwing would streak overhead, Batman would pull the grapple from his belt, and he would fire it upwards, catching the jet, which would pull him off in the most dramatic and blatantly public method he could use to leave. You know. To make sure there was NO QUESTION that Batman was gone, no matter who else might still be in town.

Sneaky Batman.

[OOC: Batman's last post in Fandom. If you want to say anything between him standing there and catching his jet, post is open for that! But then he's flying off.]

throughaphase

After the last day or so, Kitty was in a good enough mood (finally) that she didn't even mind that Tino had called out today, leaving her alone at the bar. She was a little on the bored side, though, meaning she'd built a small tower out of shot glasses and was trying to practice some pouring tricks.

It could have been going worse? But it also could have gone better. This was why she was practicing with water.

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal had had tarps laid down and the pavilion put up before the rain started, and the company assured him they would also have adequate heaters in the event it turned too chilly. When it got closer to time, they set up the tables and place-settings according to his students' instructions.

Said students were mostly spending time between the kitchens and the tables, seeing everything through. Hannibal was keeping an eye on things and helping as needed, but so far they'd done quite a good job, he was pleased to see. Mr. Wayne seemed happy as he shook hands and smiled at people as they arrived.

There was unobtrusive classical music playing, the whole place was decorated tastefully floral, and the flowers on the tables were edible. Welcome to the Spring charity banquet!

[OOC: Bruce Wayne again modded with kind permission; open post if you want to show up at the dinner! Crashers welcome OOC, but be prepared for IC frowns. SPish while at work.]

Current Location: Community Center garden
Current Music: Light classical

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Kenzi was practicing Giselle's mad scene in back of the bar. Tino was staying far, far away. Some of those kicks might almost reach his face. Most of them would definitely reach other parts that were even more precious.

SPECIALS
Mudslides
Vodka gimlets
Glow-in-the-dark-shots

willbethenight.livejournal.com

In all of Bruce's years managing child performers, boy bands, and other people whose adolescences would be horrible, just like HIS was after his parents died, he had never seen a performer as exploitable as his new sensation, Robin. Robin had everything. Youth! Pluck! An accent, but one that wasn't, you know, too foreign! And now he could add 'a stage to perform on' and 'swans to perform with' to that list.

Because that's how Bruce Wayne launched hot new singles. In parks with swans. Deal with it, haters, he was going to laugh all the way to the bank, and then cry all the way to bed because his still missed his mommy and daddy. But that was later. Now he had a show to launch.

"Robin!" Bruce called out. "Your public is ready to meet you! And the swans!"

Gather round, everyone. It was time to watch the start of a Behind the Music in the making.

[OOC: Open to anyone who might want to meet the next Bieber or his manager. Or just get some live music. Or see dancing swans.

AUs can get weird sometimes, you guys.]

amthenight.livejournal.com

Something had been off ever since Batwoman woke up late this morning. Room service seemed to think she wasn't the person who lived in her hotel room, for one thing. Then there was the flood of e-mails directed to a Bruce Wayne. And it only became more obvious as she got to the Batcave and investigated things there.

Somehow she was in a different version of Fandom than the one she was used to. But this one was strangely similar to hers in so many ways. With that in mind, she decided to ride this out and not introduce Bridget Wayne to this town, just in case people got suspicious about both Bruce and Batman being somewhat curvier. She had class to teach as Batwoman tomorrow, after all. She didn't want to give anyone any clues. She wasn't the Riddler.

And so in full costume, she stopped at the Perk for some coffee and - more importantly - information on what else was happening in this universe. Who knew how long she would be here? It was a good idea to get the lay of the land.

[OOC: Open for all of your evening coffee and Batwoman needs. And yes, World's Greatest Detective.]

throughaphase

Kitty had been in her office working and hadn't planned on staying any longer than she needed to, but she was called out early when Tino came in for the night and complained that the bartop was fluffy.

And sure enough, the bar was covered in some white, soft, fluffy material. Neither of them had any idea how it got there or when it would go away, and Kitty decided to stay behind the bar for a while to see how this went when it had to be a surface for drinks.

[Open and OCD-free! I said I was gonna post literal fluff, and this for some unknown reason is the first thing that came to mind.]

solo_sword

There wasn't a ton of time to clean everything up after Cade's funeral, but the time for grieving had come and gone and now it was time for a wedding! In the same place where a teenger had just been eulogized! Happy times!

The place was done up all pretty, because even if it was Jaina's- ...third? Fifth? Who really kept track of these things anymore- wedding, Skywalkers spared no expense.

You were free to place bets on what was going to happen this time.

[Yes, another wedding! Open to all!]

amthenight.livejournal.com

District Attorney Batman Wayne was having a busy day. He managed to shut down the shipment of caffeine pills his nefarious twin, Bruce, tried to have delivered. But now word was out that a kid at the school ODed on the stuff and it might have been tied into the Skywalkers. There was also something about a horse somewhere?

The District Attorney of Fandom didn't get weekends off. If anything, weekends were the worst.

But still, he was here going through his files in case anyone needed prosecution or bike repair.

[OOC: Open, naturally. And yes, Batman Wayne has a mustache.]

gunslingerpose

This morning, Nikolai rolled out of bed already naked and went and took a long, hot, steamy shower. He spent some time at the gym, the same way he did every morning, working out for a good hour before going and taking (of course) another shower. Equally long. Equally steamy. The only time his haunted chestnut eyes were ever uncovered by his bad-boy mirrored shades was, of course, while he was taking those showers. It wouldn't do to be seen without them, after all. They were part of the image.

Plus that whole tragic backstory thing involving the bad blood transfusion back in Greece. But mostly the image.

And then, because tragic and beautiful heroes apparently only had to work one day a week in order to get by around here, he made his way to the front desk of the hotel where, no doubt, he would end up spending his day talking to all manner of guests, most of them gorgeous, all of them with tragic backstories of their own. That was generally the way things were in this neck of the woods, after all.

And on top of that, he was going to spend some time working on his other job as a highly successful Hollywood agent, making phone calls to high profile actors and actresses back in Los Angeles, arranging new roles and contracts and even the occasional ill-advised party. It would no doubt be full of terrible life choices and no small shortage of drama, which he would inevitably end up having to clean up after when all was said and done.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Beef Bourguignon ~~Probably Without Arsenic~~
Foie Gras ~~Definitely Without Arsenic. May Cause Amnesia.~~
Creme Brulee ~~With Sleeping Powder~~
Frozen Bean and Cheese Burritos, Microwaved

Yeah, nothing had actually changed for Nikolai this weekend. He'd taken one look at Gunther's menu today, shaken his head, and added the last item himself because he wanted to be able to eat without waking up in Bosnia or tied to a train track or something.

The Arms Hotel is open!

[OOC: No, really! Open!]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

"Tallest in the back, please. Just stand there for ten minutes and you'll get some porridge, you adorable little orphans," Bruce said. He even wiped a smudge off the face of one of the smaller orphans. These orphans were standing in a group three rows deep. And behind them, Bruce took a seat at his desk.

There were some people who claimed that Bruce Wayne hid his shady dealings behind his charitable works. He liked the sound of that, so he made a point to literally hide behind orphans whenever he got to work. He was just about to make a phone call to order another shipment of caffeine pills to flood Fandom with - the profit margins were higher with the pills than they were with real coffee, especially that fine Columbian bean - when he saw a chat window pop up.

service to UR supplier has been disconnected, brother. UR criminal empire is only valid while supplies last.

"Goddamn you, Batman," Bruce cursed under his breath. He had enough problems with the werewolves as it was. But now if his own twin brother was spoiling his caffeine imports? "Get out of here, you goddamned orphans! Go to the breakfast nook and get your porridge!" Bruce needed to think.

[OOC: Yep, open.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Once the dates were over, Bruce made his way to the bar, took a seat, and motioned for Tino to make his favorite drink. (Ginger ale, done up to look alcoholic. Ahem.) He actually had plans to hit Baltimore a little later, but he had time to put up a show and be a good host for a while.

[OOC: Here is your regular post-dates post! Mod Tino for drink making, but Bruce will be at the bar if anyone wants to chat.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

A sign was posted at the front door:

Caritas Presents:
3 MINUTE DATES

Just before 8:00, Bruce walked up onto the stage, dressed in a suit and a smile. "Hello, and welcome to Three Minute Dates. I'm not exactly sure how I got roped into this to begin with, but I agreed because it kept me from participating for once. Trust me, my dating history doesn't really need another five dates in a night. That said, I will be at the bar once this is done, so you can still have a chance to chat me up if you really want to."

After a very brief pause for laughter, Bruce clapped his hands together. "Well, without further ado, let's get this started. I'll read off a bunch of pairings, then you'll have three minutes until the air horn sounds..." Which it did, just then. Bruce visibly cringed. "Then it's time to cover your ears and run off to your next date once I call your name. It's just five rounds, so you'll be done with this in no time. Good luck."

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

[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.~~ has been completed. You have permission to play.

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 when I'm snowed in like Edward. Zing!]

throughaphase

When Kitty had planned this party she'd just figured that it'd be a good way for people to mingle, especially since there were new people on the island now. She hadn't thought that there'd be powers weirdness going on, though really, there were probably a few people who could use a drink and/or assurances this would be back to normal in the morning.

At least, it'd better be normal in the morning. Did you hear that, Fandom?

The place had been all prettied up, the back room had been blocked off for party purposes, and if you got a drink there was a good chance that you had a macramed drink cozy along with it because if you gained a new skill you might as well use it or whatever, right?

[Open party!]

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Kenzi had had the weirdest dream last night... although she couldn't remember it all. Something about a dance. A rose.

That guy from Galaxy Quest? WTF.

So tonight she was going easy on the specials.

Specials
Tell me your worst nightmare, get a shot.

justlike_a_girl

Dani was standing just outside the barn and sending "come hither" looks at the firemen next door at the Fandom Firehouse. Dani liked flirting with her cute firemen neighbors. But today she needed rescuing from some very determined mistletoe that was holding her in place.

The Gig was open. Be prepared to pucker up!

amthenight.livejournal.com

After a long night on the mainland, Batman took a quick patrol through the town. In retrospect, it was clearly a mistake to go through the park. That was where the plants lived. And now the plants had covered his cape and were weighing him down.

And for the second time this week, Batman was forced to do a quick check. "Poison Ivy?" he called out. The only response were a few more sprigs of mistletoe shooting over to attach to his cape and wrap around the neck before he could even think of pulling the cape off.

Batman touched the communicator in his cowl. "Alfred. Send me the standard formula for taking care of Ivy's monster plants. I'm having an issue here."

This wasn't going to stop him from continuing his patrol, though. It would just be going a little slower. And he might spread allergens.

[OOC: Open for all of your parkly or Batmanly needs!]

amthenight.livejournal.com

After an evening in Baltimore, Batman made his way back to Fandom and took a quick patrol on the island before making his way to the Batcave. He was in the park when he saw a sure sign of supervillainy.

"Where are you, Fries?" Batman called out as the polar bear approached. Batman settled into his preferred polar-bear fighting stance, waiting for the bear to take any aggressive actions. That's when the bear reached behind his back and... pulled out a bottle of ice cold Coca-Cola.

That was not what Batman expected.

"Poison?" Batman asked, holding his stance. The bear stepped slightly closer, trying once again to hand the bottle over with a friendly little grunt. "Victor Fries never trained his bears to be this friendly." The bear seemed to shrug. When Batman cautiously took the bottle, the polar bear finally struck... by throwing an arm across his shoulders like they were old friends. This was weird.

"You're not moving until I take a drink, are you?" Batman asked. The bear grunted playfully. "Fine." Batman pulled a bottle opener out of his utility belt, popped the cap off, and took a swig. The bear appeared to cheer and slapped Batman on the back before going on his way.

"This town," Batman muttered before continuing on with his patrol.

[OOC: Can be open if anyone's hanging around the park.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Bruce was not here to check out the general area that had recently launched an invasion. He was just here for a good meal. He had not spent any time under the boardwalk seeing if there was any strategic value to be gained here for future invasions and he definitely didn't make some measurements to determine how easily these buildings could be brought down if it ever became necessary.

Nope. Just having a good Italian meal. Completely innocently. Nothing to see here, nothing to see.

[OOC: Open, if anyone's out and about in town.]

handsome-me.livejournal.com

There wasn't a radio broadcast from Handsome Jack this morning. He'd said his piece last night, and today was just a waiting game. Hyperion's men were patrolling the town throughout the morning (and shooting errant psychos who were starting to roam further and further away from their original area) but other than that, Jack just let everyone stew in their own trepidation at what was perhaps to come.

But in the afternoon, Hyperion's yellow-clad employees began to quite firmly direct and escort everyone out to the wooded unexplored area. They did not check anyone for weapons – Jack thought it would be funnier if the good people of Fandom thought they could really still do something somehow – but they were very insistent that everyone came along.

And once they'd come along, they were finally taken past an awfully convenient New-U Station inside the Vault dig site's perimeter. It was a clearing, surrounded from all sides by those all-too-familiar Hyperion engineers. In the middle of it, there were folding chairs set out for an audience. (That was you, people of Fandom!) In the direction that the chairs were facing, a ceremonial ribbon separated the rest of the area from what had to be the Vault. Probably. There was a podium-like thing sticking out from a hole, although the hole didn't look like something that had taken a whole week to dig.

(It hadn't. There were other bits in the ground around the clearing that looked like they'd been smoothed over, which was because the Vault had seemingly kept moving underground. Very inconvenient. But Hyperion had caught it eventually.)

And right in front of the ribbon stood a man who looked like he didn't have a care in the world, dressed casually kind of like a classy space pirate, or something. If you'd seen one of those posters from yesterday and wondered what the random things on his chin and his forehead were? They seemed to be metallic clips… that were keeping his face in place. Yeah. This was Handsome Jack and he was indeed compensating for something.

"Welcome, people of Fandom," his voice boomed from the loudspeakers, once more or less everyone had gotten seated. "Now, I know you're all just dying to see me use the Vault key and discover what the Vault has in store for us all, but you'll have to wait for just a moment. Because I would like to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for teaching me an important lesson: just how incredibly pointless you small town bandits can be! I mean, it's amazing, really. So much energy spent on pointless pretending to be heroic in the face of a much awesomer power! Think of all the miserable county fairs you could have organized with all the energy you've stupidly spent on trying to stand up to me."

He... kind of went on for a while on that topic, berating them. Sorry, not sorry.

"–– and in conclusion, if you'll pardon my Truxican, that is why you suck. In my humble opinion. But enough with the speeches." He turned towards the ribbon separating him from the Vault. "I know what everyone's really here for!"

A Hyperion worker handed him a giant pair of scissors, and he cut the ribbon. And right there was your cue, Fandom. One last stand of utter chaos with a tiny bit of cunning tactics.

[ocd up! finale away!]

throughaphase

Right, so Kitty had no idea what had happened today, but she'd gotten to hit things and hopefully never had to hear Handsome Jack's voice again so she was going to call it a success.

And since they'd come to the end of a traumatic week, Kitty went to open the bar, just in case anyone felt the need to drink, or wtf, or stress that they hadn't had time to prep for finals.

amthenight.livejournal.com

The fighting wasn't really meant to go like this. Batman confronted a group of psychos on their way to the Kwik Stop, one thing led to another, and all of a sudden there was a brawl inside a beauty salon. Nail polish was used to obscure the eyes of the psychos' masks. One was half-drowned in a mud bath. One was locked in the sauna cranked on high. One was laying on a table and his massage was certainly not relaxing (although the knot in his back was definitely out).

Please don't ask what happened to the one with the wax.

When all was said and done, there were four psychos tied up and left on the roof of the building. And by the cash register was enough money for four deluxe spa packages, with a healthy tip.

That's how the Batman rolled.

amthenight.livejournal.com

Things had taken a turn for the worse. On top of absolutely everything else, now there were deranged individuals shouting nonsense, wearing makeshift armor, and ready to stab people.

As far as Batman was willing to let things go around here, trusting that it was important for the people of Fandom to do this kind of thing for themselves, this was a step too far. If psychos were going to be roaming the streets, so would Batman.

From his rooftop perch, he could see two conversing with nonsense phrases. Good. It meant they wouldn't hear him when he dropped in. The first psycho didn't seem to take very kindly to a two-story dropkick to the back of his neck. Of course, he didn't seem to be responding much at all outside of the odd twitch. Batman was almost surprised that the second one didn't even hesitate before charging with murderous intent. But that didn't mean much to the Batman.

A couple minutes later, the psycho was dangling upside from a lamppost with his tire shoulderpads tying his feet together.

Batman was just getting started.

[OOC: Open to anyone who may be in this particularly bad part of town tonight. Fandomites and psychos alike!]

mummyspromdate.livejournal.com

The gun machines still had Maddie really wary. She'd dealt with them before, but it just seemed like an extremely bad sign in a town like this.

She had no qualms about finding money boxes, though. She'd found two on her way to work and pocketed the cash, and she was spending her shift looking through organizations dealing with gun violence while being like thirty dollars richer, because she was young enough to not realize what a hypocrite she could be.

amthenight.livejournal.com

Batman had been out so late last night doing work in Baltimore that he technically ended up being out early. So when the Batwing dropped him off in front of the Perk (literally dropped him, since he loved flashy entrances so much) before autopiloting away, certain changes had already taken place around town.

That's why before going in to get some coffee, Batman left a note on the gun machine.

Remember: The only thing more dangerous than a gun is me.
-Batman

After getting his coffee, Batman took a seat by the window. And he watched. He might have a few words about gun safety with anyone who decided they really needed a gun right then and there.

[OOC: C'mon, I had to. Open, especially to anyone who wants a lecture!]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Bruce had been slacking off with his training. With as much time and effort as he put into everything else, it had been months since he even visited an arcade to test his skills.

That was going to change tonight. It was time for him to hang up his Billionaire Playboy Hat and put on his Dance Dance Revolution Champion Headband. Sadly, both of those pieces of headwear were figurative. But hey, it still wasn't every day that a guy in a well-tailored black suit went to town on an arcade dance machine, right? That had to count for something. Well, not in the high scores it didn't. Bruce was going to have to get that the old fashioned way: By being awesome at dancing.

[OOC: No idea. Open for all of your bowling, arcade, or Bruce Wayne needs.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

The really nice thing about being the boss was that once you had some workers and the office was in no danger of falling apart because you were fabulously wealthy, it didn't matter if you were seen to be goofing off. In fact, it could even be seen as a good thing. Say, if you were putting a golf ball around the office and because your NPC secretary didn't mind, it might make you seem affable and not, for example, like a cape-wearing lunatic who punches people until all crime goes away forever.

Bruce had some workers. He had some work going on whenever he was at a desk. He had an office handling bigger concerns in Gotham. And right now, he had a gentle touch and was getting the ball in a cup with almost evey putt. And at sentence sounded horribly filthy until it stopped making sense because golf.

Anyway, the office was open.

[OOC: Open, but slow due to RL office, of course.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

After talking to Rilla on Saturday, Bruce made a point to pull together some charities he thought might interest her. Yes, they were all orphan or soldier based. He was working a hunch.

Once he spent some time going over that, he started looking at possible dates for a local fundraiser. There was a chance that by the time Halloween was over, people would be all partied out for a few weeks, but that would still put him right in line for something Thanksgiving-based. Maybe instead of a gala event, he could go simple and just organize a group to help out at a soup kitchen. After all, not all charity was done in a suit while collecting checks. Or punching dudes. There was a middle ground.

[OOC: Shifts are still available if anyone wants a desk job! Open, with a work SP warning.]

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

If Rilla hadn't wanted to go to a carnival, she really had not interest in going to the dance.

She still dropped Jims off with the sitter, though, and was now drinking a cup of tea and reading a copy of the letter Walter's batallion commander had sent to her family, assuring them that Walter had died instantly in an assault.

At least he hadn't suffered. That was some relief, at least.

Current Mood: depressed

willbethenight.livejournal.com

After a quiet week where he was TOTALLY IN HIS HOTEL ROOM THE WHOLE TIME, it was finally time for Bruce to open up an office here in Fandom. ~~Not that it was like a month and a half overdue, screw you, RL.~~ The furniture had been moved in over the last week, the name was on the door, and an attractive ~~NPC~~ temp secretary was at the front desk while Bruce settled into his office.

There was a sign in the front window listing "DEDICATED INTERNS WANTED. INQUIRE INSIDE." The ~~NPC~~ secretary would be happy to show you in. In the meantime, Bruce was going to do so much paperwork. That was the downside of starting a new satellite office.

[OOC: Open to visitors and people interested in working for a multinational, multidimensional charitable organization. The thought is that this would be an office job where people work with vague reports and deadlines, all to a vague charitable purpose. And the jobs pay well.

Shifts are available every weekday! C'mon, you know you want to pretend to work in an office while you're supposed to be working in a real office. Now in the right comm. Boy was I off on the first try.]

justlurkinghere

The DJ wasn't playing music this week. Instead, there was a sign that read 'No government, no music'. Which, really, wasn't making Derek want Washington to get their act together anytime soon.

It was blissfully silent at the Devil's Nest.

If you ignored Tiny sending text messages to someone. God, how did he get to be so popular on the island to be busy doing that all night?

throughaphase

There were definitely other things Kitty would rather be doing right now. But a girl's gotta pay her bills somehow, and so she would at least be here until she finally had it and took off to ~~jump~~ ~~see~~ jump Clint. She did not think she'd finish out her shift here, no.

So for now at least, the air conditioning was cranked, there were many regrets about the leather pants when it felt like it was a thousand degrees, and Kitty was trying really hard to keep her thoughts on work. Guess how that was going.

SPECIAL
FROZEN DRINKS

[Caritas: facilitating your ill-advised hookups since 2005.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

After the dates, Bruce noticed that Doom and... the other Doom made their way out through the back door. Strange, but not suspicious enough to require a second look at this point.

Instead, Bruce made his way over to the bar and had Tino get him another drink. Bruce also pre-tipped him for the amount of drinks he was likely to be making for everyone tonight. And that was why Tino always pretended to give Bruce a lot of alcohol. It was hard to say no to tippers as good as him.

[OOC: This is your regular bar post for the night. Yep, it's for Tino-modding!]

allhopeliesinme.livejournal.com

It would be difficult to explain the past hour outside of Caritas. Suffice it to say, there were regrets, laser blasts, and several gremlins who owed Doctor Doom their lives since he spared them. Nevertheless, he had something to deal with now.

As Doom strode into the lounge at Caritas just before 8 PM, a second Doom - identical to the first in every way, except that he was a robot - walked onto the stage.

"ASK NO QUESTIONS!" the Doombot ordered. "BEGIN YOUR DATES, AS PAIRED TOGETHER BY DOOM!"

Apparently rounds tonight would be determined by the Doombot yelling at you. Good to know!

[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.~~ UP. Play on, my friends Big thanks to

throughaphase 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.]

solo_sword

The last time Jaina woke up wearing her brother's face, she'd broken a mirror and refused to leave her apartment till it was over. This time she'd skipped the mirror-breaking, refused to leave her apartment on Saturday, and woke up today deciding this was stupid.

So fine, she was walking around with her dead twin's face and no, she was not actually going to be looking in any mirrors, but this was just going to have to be a thing she had to deal with. And not talk about. And if she had a drink, well, too bad, you do this without alcohol.

Fandom High RPG

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