shiroi_tiger: (Default)
[personal profile] shiroi_tiger
For some, the weekend spent on the island had been quieter than for others. It wasn't that Algren wasn't interested in getting out there and fighting zombie gremlins (though there was some Fandom-related trauma there that had involved both zombies and gremlins, once upon a time, that he didn't care to revisit), and it wasn't even that he hadn't wanted to see if he could find any familiar faces at the various dances and parties and gatherings that had been going on across the island.

No, mostly it was that he'd just opted to reacquaint himself with the quieter aspects of Fandom. A walk along the beach, or through the preserve, right around dawn or dusk. That sort of thing.

This morning, it was the park. He had a thermos of tea - and yes, he had absolutely gone out to buy a thermos for the occasion, using money he still had inexplicably left over in the bank here from his tenure on the island - and was seated on the grass, watching the ducks swim and the flamingos... be flamingos, whatever that entailed.

There might also have been a sword resting on the grass beside him, serving as a silent warning to any gremlins that might get any ideas. Yes, Fandom, Nathan Algren remembered you well enough, even after being gone for a few years.

[OOC: I had to get him out somewhere this weekend! Open park is open!]

Cafe Luke's, Monday

Monday, July 23rd, 2012 12:37 pm
[identity profile] inthefreezr.livejournal.com
Vincent missed Eureka's jukebox. Nothing helped a slow day pick up the pace like a little Pink while bussing tables or basting pheasants. Sure, Luke's had a sound system, but Vincent almost never turned it on. That was just asking to draw too much attention to the little restaurant -- and more importantly, to the several human-sized hidey holes scattered about the restaurant for those who might need to duck away from loyalist patrols.

It'd been exciting for awhile. Eureka almost never had to deal with a totalitarian regime. The shine had worn off months ago, though, and now, Vincent mostly just missed things.

Today's specials
Grilled chicken with sprouts
Bran muffins
Fresh fruit salad


Like flavor. But too many fancy, fun dishes might draw attention to him, too.

Luke's was open.
whenshewasnice: (Default)
[personal profile] whenshewasnice
Notices had gone out to all and sundry, inviting both those who still lived on the island as well as those who'd moved away to come back for a dance at the Fandom Town community center, in celebration of the 43rd (give or take a day) anniversary of the original moon landing, as well as the wonderful summer they were having.

Once people arrived, they'd find the community center's auditorium decorated according to the theme of the evening. Silver streamers hung all around, and a few papier mache moons had been fixed to the ceiling. The lights were dimmed, and there were flowers – most white, but some of them colored silver – on all the tables, bringing the faint scent of summer with them.

And naturally, there were big tables full of food, like at any large Fandom gathering. There was also a bar, though those underage would have to content themselves with sodas and virgin drinks. Maybe they could get over their sorrow over that on the dance floor, showing off their best Moonwalk.

Everything was ready for the people of Fandom to have a good time.

[ocd: Arrive | Food, Drinks & Mingling | Shadowy Corners | Ladies Room | Mens Room | Dancing | OOC | This event is open to everyone! Have fun!]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
It had taken a day or so, but Kerrigan had finally recuperated from the severe blow losing most of her Swarm had dealt to her system. She'd assumed her human guise anew and arranged some housing for River and herself, and now...

Well, now she was indulging old, human patterns. She ordered a cup of coffee at the counter and sat down with it at a table, sipping it. Caffeine hadn't tasted right to her for years now, but the habit was almost... comforting... to the few scraps of humanity that persisted underneath the zerg and the hunger.

Another human trapping: her mobile phone. She reached for it, wondering if Emma had encountered this same... issue recently, perhaps left some kind of message. And she did have a voicemail...

...except it wasn't Emma. It wasn't Emma at all.

"Lee," she murmured. Those human scraps of her felt distraught, angry, terrified.

The zerg part of her still didn't care, and it was vastly greater.

But she didn't delete the message.

[[ open! ]]
bigdamnprincipal: (Default)
[personal profile] bigdamnprincipal
Although the weekend was almost over, the esteemed alumni of Fandom High were not getting away without one last get-together. The park had been deemed too cold for the event, so the community center had been set up again with tasteful blue and yellow streamers and real flowers on the tables, although there might have been a few paper flowers still lying around from last night too.

There was plenty of food just waiting to be eaten, and if someone asked nicely, they might be able to acquire a drink or two as well. It was five o'clock somewhere.
[identity profile] mouthy-merc.livejournal.com
If anyone could recall the dance from the night before, they would have thought that it was decorated tastefully compared to what was going on tonight. There were streamers, balloons and what appeared to be paper flower ornaments everywhere. All done in yellow and blue for the proud graduates of Fandom High, of course.

And there were the 'classic' songs from twenty years ago blaring loudly for people to dance or cringe to. Who knew Ke$ha and Justin Bieber would get to be classic pop music for future generations?

Just be glad there is an open bar.

Arrive/Pick Up A Name Tag | Dance Floor | Open Bar | Dark Corners
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
There had already been a detention for some other kids yesterday, but the school had phoned in Kerrigan because there were a few more on the list that desperately needed disciplining. Sadly, she doubted that meant 'being allowed to take tissue samples' (going by one of the two people on the list) or even 'making them run laps outside and catch pneumonia for my entertainment'.

Which was a pity.

But something had left the community center a mess yesterday, which meant that Kerrigan would at least have the pleasure of watching them slave away. "I want you to clean the place out," she informed both children, "And if I hear either of you complain, I will be making you run laps around the building in t-shirts and shorts."

Let it not be said she couldn't creatively get around to the pneumonia bit.

[[ for two who know who they are ]]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Another slow, slow week had passed on by, irrelevant and tedious.

While River continued her operation on Artika, Kerrigan's forces had been trying to hunt down Zeratul, but the Protoss proved elusive, his path... troubling.

Yet again, Kerrigan hence made her way to the quietest part of the island, where there was the least chance of interference through the chattering thoughts of others. (Yesterday had been particularly annoying, with strains of song drifting in and out of her consciousness.) She took a deep breath, and looked to the skies, and listened.

By now, she didn't need to drop an inch of her disguise to do so: that was a good discovery. But the airwaves of the mind were quiet, and even the scratching-burning sound of the Dark Voice seemed more distant, and harder to grasp.

[[ open! ]]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Once upon a time, Kerrigan might've joked something about the beach being nice and quiet - something approaching a joke, anyway.

She didn't have such inclinations now. The beach was the most silent place on the island, at the best of days; while she could shield now, unlike she once did, the back chatter was always there, a worse limitation than the ocean that surrounded her.

It wasn't that the signal was any stronger here, but that ocean was just the slightest inch further away, making it easier for her to get a clear listen.

Not that it still amounted to much. Fire and death and storm, that she could make out.

Her face set with a frown, and she yanked her mind out of the direct path of the signal. "This is getting tiresome," she murmured, and raked her foot through the sand. Human bodies. So fragile. It was starting to itch.

[[ open! ]]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
"Well. This is inconvenient."

Kerrigan glared across the broken causeway in annoyance. Or maybe not broken: just... absent, where its most essential pavement should be. The large black crack that ran through it looked a lot like an unbridgable gap.

She pursed her lips. Perfectly still.

The illusion of human skin faded away in an instant, and then there was movement; she twisted around, lashing out with a single bone wing and stabbed straight through the armor of an approaching radscorpion, as if she was sticking a knife into a stick of butter. The thing made an inhuman noise as it twisted underneath the force of it, pinned to the ground.

She pulled her wing out just as abruptly. "Amateurs," she muttered, reaching for her wingtip with a single hand. She licked the oozelike blood from her fingers. "Radiation always has such predictable results. Useless."

The dead radscorpion did not reply. But behind it, from the shadows, came more creatures, dogs and mutants, menacing and dangerous.

Kerrigan was unmoved. She was a better breed of monster.

[[ open if anyone wants to join her in slaughtering them... or more likely, watch her make short work of it ]]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Fandom had been giving her a headache.

That wasn't anything new, but this had been a headache buzzing with dreams and whispers and god only knows what-- which had only turned into something that made sense (even if it was still annoying) after last night's radio broadcast.

So Kerrigan removed herself to a place with a little less immediate chatter to get some clarity away from all the bustle. A place to get back to herself, to ignore the little tingle of doubt in the back of her head that kept wondering if someone else wasn't going to make an appearance, to bat away the frustration and confusion at yet another's return.

Her own humanity was a pain in the ass sometimes.

She took a deep breath, and let her mind reach back out, upwards, to that Overlord by the moon and through it, beyond, into Koprulu, touching again on those honey-sweet threatening voices whispering about galaxies burning and wondering how long she had, really, until the Xel'Naga arrived and everyone's time would be up.

The illusion remained this time. But for one single thing.

Her eyes shone golden.

[[ open! ]]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
It had been a long few weeks, wrought with some uncomfortable conflict between human impulses thought long-gone and her own, more important mission. Enough, she had thought: it was time to take a quick breather from Fandom life and reacquaint herself with... the bigger picture.

She was the Swarm. Everything would be hers, or dead. That was one side of the matter.

The other...

She stood, on that abandoned patch of sand, and for once let her external appearance flicker. It took a lot of effort to keep up the full extent of the disguise, considering that it wasn't all biological-- the shade of her skin shifted, her eyes burned a violent amber again.

She paid it no heed. She reached out, out beyond the buzzing of mental voices on this planet, through the bleakness of space towards the Overlord that hung silently on the other side of the moon. Through it, she heard the cacaphony of voices of the Swarm, all those minds responding obediently to her every thought.

She pushed past it, into the confines of Koprulu space, and then beyond that, and there it was: voices. Voices whispering in the shadows, voices, buzzing at her mind as they had from the moment she had first picked up their silent chatter during her final victory, when she stood alone on Char.

"Xel'Naga," she spoke. Her mind snapped back to herself. Her irises shaded green again, her epidermis rosy pink.

She pursed her lips, and stood on the beach alone.

[[ kerrigan being on the beach is fb, her momentary change isn't. open for anyone to come along afterwards! ]]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
It was almost... easy, to fall back into old, nearly human habits. Once upon a time she would have sat in right this spot with this cup of coffee, affably pondering something about her students.

Now, Kerrigan had greater - universal - concerns, but she had to admit that ordering coffee at the Perk would be a good way to keep up her ruse of good behaviour. She hadn't yet progressed to giving the Trooper Station a visit - if simply to determine what level of fool had taken Roy's position - but that would come with time.

And, she reflected as she sat down at the table, it seemed the Perk staff hadn't forgotten her usual order, either.

[[ open! ]]
[identity profile] stupid-toasters.livejournal.com
The beach was quiet. The water was even... )

[OOC: Preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] on_her_korhal, yay! The beach is public so it can be open but Lee's not around after this.]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Dad had always called Sarah an enterprising kind of girl. So she enterprised her way to the beach where there were waves and sand castles to be built just like back home. She flopped in the sand and--

She didn't have a bucket. Oops.

With a concentrated frown, she set to work anyway. She was enterprising!

[ open like a beach! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
It had taken Sarah Louise a little while to get out of the weird glowy house, but she had gotten out, and then there was cake!

Well, there still was cake. She just couldn't quite reach it. "Gimme," she called, poking at the glass display, "Gimme!" A pause. "All of it, please."

She heard people were better at giving you things if you said please.

[ oooopen! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
She hadn't been sleeping well. She hadn't been sleeping well, and the noise wasn't letting up, and she couldn't stop thinking-- about Lee and his father, about Helen and those damn monks, about River, about Harriet and the Doctor, about all of it-- she was angry, she couldn't sleep, she had to--

Kerrigan found her way to Atlas early in the morning, picked a punching bag, and went to town. One punch for Helen out in the cold. One punch for Lee who didn't hear back. One punch for Harriet, dropped like a stone before her time. It was a noble list. Vengeance for the wrongs, the whole shebang.

But all of that faded with the steady beat of her movements, and the words lost their meaning, became anger, and the next time she struck it was Jimmy's face, and the damn thing near well went off its hinges. It wasn't enough. Not by a long shot.

With a growl, she resumed her assault, a little more muted in strength but no less pissed beyond all recognition, her wings flaring for something to rend. Not enough. It was not nearly enough.

For once, the buzzing was leaving her be. Small favor that was.

[ open gym, but be wary of picking fights with the zerg. she's not gonna be gentle. ]
[identity profile] idontlooktired.livejournal.com
Harriet settled herself comfortably at the table, with a smile of thanks for their server as he replaced a chair with a solid stool.

"I thought you might prefer somewhere near the back," she told her dinner guest. Not to mention a spot she could see the rest of the restaurant and the door. "Are you hungry?"

[ooc: Up waaaaay early for timezonishness and, apart from Harriet's not-a-date thread, open for your Chinese food needs.]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Kerrigan was entertaining the very real and comforting possibility of quitting her job. On one hand, running a workshop wasn't necessarily going to get her a full-time teaching job again-- and so much depended on the students' reactions.

On the other hand, she had Harriet on her side, and she still had no idea what to make of the boss. So, perhaps...

Kerrigan opened up the store late, and spent most of the day ambling through her thoughts. It was giving her a headache.

She didn't really feel like going to the picnic.

[ open! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
To say she was still a little shellshocked from her own experience over the weekend would be a severe understatement. Kerrigan sat quiet on the sand, green skin making for an ugly contrast between the sand and her skin.

Oddly enough, it would've been more comforting if she'd been able to shiver about it-- but her new body, as it generally did, kept even stiller than her old one would have.

So she rested her chin on her knees, and tried not to think anything at all.

[ open like a beach, yes ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Getting called in on your day off was fun. Really.

Even if Cable had raised the stupidly rational argument that technically, almost every other day was her day off. Sometimes-- just sometimes, she just wanted to--

Nrgh. With a pounding headache and the word Over pounding through her mind for no good reason, Kerrigan flipped the sign to open, and, with one more annoyed snap at the boss (he wanted to have a spar with whom where?) she settled in for the day.

There was no point in getting annoyed. None. Don't mind the pacing. Or the fact that she was looking slightly greener and more armored than usual.

She could just use a spa day, too, was all.

[ open! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Well, there was one advantage this job had over the old one: at least she could carry a rifle. Even if she didn't have her C-10 around here, she'd been able to liberate another rifle that couldn't have possibly been from this point in time from one of the back lockers.

Not that Kerrigan would take it out of the store-- then she'd have to deal with the owner again-- and of course he would only carry these things unloaded. But just the heavy weight of the gun in her hands had something strangely soothing about it, and soon, she was humming something tuneless to herself as she paced anxious little eights through the store.

[ open! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
"There's always the option to start next week."

"I'm here. You told me what to do. I'm not going home right now."

Cable, infuriatingly enough, didn't turn it into an argument. "Don't forget to flip the sign," he said, instead, and without further ado dragged his infant carry-on back up the stairs. She shot his back a look.

Well, that just took the wind out of her sails. With an annoyed growl, Kerrigan made her way to the door, flipped the sign to Open, and began pacing through the store.

Maybe this had been a bad idea. ... This had certainly been a bad idea.

[ open ]
[identity profile] spring-lost.livejournal.com
After the past while, Cable'd been grateful for a weekend without anything stranger than a herd of walking noses in the stairwell. Now that all of that had been cleared up, he'd opened the store on time, checked the radio (made a note to talk to Temari about Ino, perhaps) and settled in with his laptop.

Oddly enough, he couldn't stay put for more than fifteen minutes at a time. Janice's new toys had absolutely nothing to do with it.

[ open ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Wings folded back and away; Kerrigan pulled the coat a little tighter around her as she felt the wind tug on it. She was trying to focus on something else, some strange sliver of an instinct telling her that if she just-- pulled together.

Under the coat, torn as it was, armor pulled back and in, and the tough, hard shell of the tentacles on her head softened, framing her face more as hair should.

Her next breath should've been choked, wasn't-- preternatural strength that had started to fill the self-conscious spots. And yet, all the focus broke her concentration in other areas, filling her mind with a nigh-endless supply of annoying interference.

Sarah Kerrigan took a breath. It was just a damn beach.

[ open like a beach, y0 ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Today was the day. Kerrigan eyed the dropship with some apprehension. Today.

Running a hand through her hair, she reshouldered the bag on her shoulder for the umpteenth time upon approach. It was ready. It was fixed up. She had her armor, and her rifle, and she'd seen River off to graduation...

It didn't make this any easier. But-- she was needed. Yeah.

It would be an hour or so before she finally made the engines run, the sparks would pass from cable to cable and the ship would lift off, shuttling a fast wind across the junkyard as it forced itself into the sky.

For now, though, Kerrigan was here.

[ open, for anyone who wants to say goodbye to Kerrigan, or who has any business in the junkyard, yay ]
[identity profile] idontlooktired.livejournal.com
It was the Grads' Brunch in the park today, as the brightly coloured banner -- CONGRATULATIONS, CLASS OF 2008! -- indicated.

There were lots of tables and chairs set up in the park, under sails for shade, and long tables groaning under the weight of the food and drink. Not just traditional moddable brunch foods, but a wide selection of also moddable greek dishes and delicacies.

Coffees, teas, punch, juices and softdrink were only some of the also also moddable are you sensing a theme here? wide range of drinks.

Music played quietly in the background, the speakers hanging from the trees, and bocce ball and croquet had been set up. There was even space for dancing, a hard floor having been laid over the grass between the trees.

It may be the Grads' Brunch, but everyone was welcome! Come and congratulate the class of 2008!

[ooc: What it says up there! This is a picnic to celebrate the 2008 graduates and their guests, but it's open to all of Fandom.
Plz wait for OCD
OCD? We has it.]
[identity profile] idontlooktired.livejournal.com
There was a break in the rain this morning, and it had left the air cool, the wind whipping off the ocean crisp and clean, as it the salt washed it free of any taint.

Harriet tipped her head back and closed her eyes, just for a moment, before looking down at the young girl holding her hand. "What do you say, Lauren? Does this look like a good spot?"

Lauren was already pulling off her shoes, and Harriet turned to glance at the third member of this very strange trio. "And you, Sarah?" And my, it was hard to remember not to address her by rank. "Does this suit you?"
not_in_the_book: (Emo: Smile)
[personal profile] not_in_the_book
Not far from where the Skeleton Tea had been held earlier in the day, there was a tent that had been erected, with thiny, gauzy material and bone-like poles. Not dirty. The lights were soft as the evening grew darker, casting a welcoming, yet vaguely spooky illumination on the proceedings.

The proceedings of PROM.

One side of the tent was open, backing against a grove of trees; there were a few lights among them, but for the most part they offered shadowy nooks for anyone who wished to be a bit apart from the main action. The rest of the tent was enclosed, save for the entrance, and the same skeletons who'd worked the Tea earlier were at the refreshments table, ready and willing to serve any students or chaperones who approached. At one end of the table was the ballot box for prom court voting.

The music was just getting started, and the dance floor was yet to fill up, but regardless, Fandom High Prom 2008 was underway!

[Wait for OCD is up! Have fun, everyone!]
[identity profile] sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com
Triela made sure to show up early so that people could pick up their gear if they hadn't already. She had a stack of guns and masks and ammunition and was running through her plans in her head.

At precisely 4:55pm Triela bent down to rearrange the stack of gear and jugged into the woods, already running through the list of people she needed to take out first.

[Biiig OCD on the way DONE! Basic rundown of the rules is here.

Quick clarification: other than starting at 5pm and leaving the area when you're hit with paint, there are no IC rules. That means that nothing really counts as cheating except pretending you didn't get shot when you did.]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
The morning had not been good.

The afternoon had been worse.

The evening? She-- pronouns were hers-- wasn't going to let this thing ruin the entire day (even if it was, from a certain subjective standpoint, kind of funny).

Exercise always helped. This is why she was at the gym, trying desperately to make sense of the way her temporary body was moving.

She was going to kill someone if it wasn't temporary.

[ open to all! ETA: everyone chronologically before Ino, please ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
All things considered, yesterday had left Kerrigan in an uncharacteristically pleasant mood. The difference was readily apparent to the Perk staff, who danced around the shop with some relief over the course of the morning.

And gladly served her coffee.

She smiled. It was a good day.

[ open! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
She needed coffee. And a lot of it.

Kerrigan sat in the Perk with her PDA on the table and a large mug between her hands, rubbing her forehead with as much power as she could muster. Maybe if she just reached in and found the headache and ripped its little headachey heart to--

She really needed more coffee.

[ open! ]
bigdamnprincipal: (Default)
[personal profile] bigdamnprincipal
Sometime in the afternoon, phone calls started coming in to Zoe from the away teams, with messages of success that made her feel more relieved than she had in days. After talking to Harriet and Kerrigan about what they'd been able to accomplish, the plans to finish this fight finally started to come together, and all that seemed to be left to do was inform the town, and gather more volunteers.

Once again, fliers appeared around town and in the dorms, calling everyone who was left together for a second town meeting. Zoe gave the people who arrived some time to get settled and check in with each other, before she got up to speak.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," she said. "I'm pleased to say that I have good news to share. All of our travelers have successfully found the information we sent them to search for, and with this information, the administration has come up with two plans: one to stop the angels, and one to bring everyone who's gone missing home."

First, Zoe explained the plan to lure the angels into the preserve which I will not type out again so as to not bore you all, and then she opened the floor to Harriet, to explain how the missing persons were being brought back which has its own OCD thread la la la.

"What we need now are volunteers to deal with the angels, and to make this plan work. I'm not going to lie to you," she said. "It's going to be dangerous, and I know that my job is to keep the students and teachers out of danger as much as possible. But I also know that if anyone can pull this off, it's the people in this town. If we all work together, we can get rid of this threat, and get our friends and family home. If you have any questions before you volunteer, either Dean Jones or I would be happy to answer them."

[I am in no way ashamed of tonight's post subject. If you're a blinker or teleporter, you can handwave coming to the meeting and volunteering, if you want.]
[identity profile] stocksgrrl.livejournal.com
Arrivals to the town hall for the dance would find it decorated with darker, richer colors, from the draping streamers to the balloons scattered around to the runner on the snacks table. At the entrance, there was even a table with a variety of masks available for those who might not have brought their own, or were too damn lazy to get one, provided ever so graciously by Turtle & Canary.

And there wasn't a single speck of pink in the decorations. Nope. Not one. Turtle had made sure of it, even against the nefarious plottings of someone whose name may have rhymed with Peg Panning.

There was, however, still a lot of glitter. You could change the world, but you couldn't tempt fate.


[[ OCD on its way has landed! Up early to get the most out of our play; second part to go up later dependent on comment accumulation and potential punch chinchillas spiking ]]

[[ Quick links for eventual browser friendliness: Arrive/Mingle, Snacks/Punch, Shadowy Corner, Chaperones/Security, Dance Floor, OOC ]]
[identity profile] moonbrain-tam.livejournal.com
River had felt the need for coffee and apple cake, as well as getting out of the dorms, so the Perk had seemed like a good place to go. She sat at a table by the window, sipping her drink and taking occasional bites of her cake, while focusing on making a complex pattern of sugar on the surface of the table.

[Open!]
[identity profile] light-a-spark.livejournal.com
Roy had caught one of the troopers that morning playing games on what the guy called a Nintendo. Which was kind of an interesting little piece of technology and it was just because he should get used to this world's technology - please ignore that he wasn't going anywhere near a computer for his paperwork - that he made the trooper explain how to use it.

So now he was behind the front desk, playing something called 'Advance Wars: Dark Conflicts'. And he wasn't amused that Trak made him think of Havoc or that the O'Brian character needed an eyepatch. As did Sigusmundo. And a sword.

((Open. Been wanting to do this for ages.))
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
It had been a while, but Kerrigan had finally found her way back to her usual spot in the perk, extra-large cup of coffee in her hand. She was in a good mood-- of a kind, staring out the window and humming quietly under her breath.

[ open for all your Kerriganly and/or caffeinated needs ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
There was artificial light filtering through the dawn in the junk yard-- Sarah Kerrigan's newly-stolen dropship had an open airlock and blue LEDs flashing in gentle warning along the side.

Inside, she sat on the floor, her legs crossed as she worked a string of cables she'd just pulled out of the side of one of the panels. Frowning in concentration at the damage, she blocked out everything including the headache as she worked.

[ open for all your Kerrigan and/or junkly needs ]
[identity profile] light-a-spark.livejournal.com
Town hall seemed to have gone through a transformation for one evening as both security forces had outdone themselves. The ballroom had been made to look like the inside of a log cabin, a rather large log cabin at that, but still a log cabin. The walls were temporarily covered with woodwork and the decorative fireplaces had finally been put to use, casting a warm light on the rest of the room. The usual tables and seats to the side of the room had been replaced by comfortable, squishy couches. The middle of the hall was left open so there was plenty of room for people to dance.

Of course, there still were wooden tables covered with food and drinks spread along the length of the room. There was hot cider, mulled wine, gingerbread, apple pie and tarts with whipping cream and cider donuts,... Pumpkins, squashes and oranges with cloves were used at decorations. The tables away from the fireplaces and closer to the cooler dancefloor had been made to look like they were snowed under and the windows had been covered with fake snow and ice crystals to establish the winter theme.

It was something different.

((Up early for timezones and slowplay! As indicated before, this time it's adults only. So enjoy not having to watch yourself for ankle biters! If there's a need for it, a second post will be thrown up later.

Wait for OCD please! Watch me forget something, I'm sure. Done. I think. Have fun!))

[[Arrive, Mingle & grab food, Fireplace & couches, Dancing, Mens room and Womens room.]]
[identity profile] redintraining.livejournal.com
There was a frozen banana stand, open for business for the day.

And there was a Sky.

Obediently dressed in a banana suit.

Wondering what on Earth had possessed him to agree to take this job.

Menu~ )

Sky settled in, hoping feverishly that nobody was going to want a banana today. Which, he realized, meant the entire town was probably going to turn up.

[OCD is forthcoming here, OMG. Have at it.]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
A familiar form strolled past the windows of the Perk, paused, then backtracked towards the door. The staff held their breath (and their coffee).

The door opened. They edged away.

Leeloo stuck her head in.

They shoved coffee at her. "Coffee?"

She cocked her head curiously. Paused. Then beamed. Broadly. "Co-fee!"

The staff backed away further. She launched into an indecipherable rant of epic proportions, and bounced in.

[ open! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Almost the moment the Perk was opened for business, Kerrigan had appeared, hair unwashed and face covered in grease marks, face grafted with the edges of someone who hadn't slept in a while.

That washed away the moment she moved up to the counter, though-- ordering a coffee, she let tiredness slip away behind the vehement veneer of confidence and not-thinking-about-it she liked to call her Ghost mask.

Settling down at her usual table for her usual drink. Routine was good.

[ open for all your Perkly and/or Kerriganly needs ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
There was an awful lot of noise and sound settling above the junkyard tonight-- blinding light, that finally faded to give way to the shape of a small Terran dropship.

It settled against the empty ground with another mild noise, staying there for several minutes until a panel on the back finally opened, giving way to a mostly empty space, a Lieutenant, and a Sheriff.

[ open to the fellow passenger and to anyone else coming to investigate afterwards ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Some people did... holiday stuff during the holidays. Family stuff.

Kerrigan did coffee. Good, ordinary coffee with her good, ordinary friends at the Perk, who had settled from 'cowering' to 'quiet respect' over the past month.

She was sipping her drink and pondering the weather.

[ open! ]
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
Now Showing:
EXTRATERRESTRIALS


It had taken Kerrigan all of one look at the movie poster to comment, "Well, I can already tell this is going to be factually inaccurate." She pointed at Roy with her drink. "That's going to be fun."

[ thread with Kerrigan locked to the Sheriff, but the theatre is open to all. meta of Aliens, of course ]
[identity profile] not-an-answer.livejournal.com
Renee was working.

Well, she was reading the old reports on this place, at least. This counted as working when the biggest crimes in town while she had been there seemed to be public intoxication and vandalism.

If only everything could be so easy.

She sighed and grabbed another file, stretching out her lower back before getting back to it.
[identity profile] on-her-korhal.livejournal.com
The Perk's staff's fear of Sarah Kerrigan had settled down to a mild, animal-like wariness once they'd realised she wasn't going to kill them for looking at her funny, speaking above a certain volume, or wandering near the pastry display.

She was just going to do it if they gave her any trouble about her coffee.

This may have been why the berth they usually took around her was slightly smaller this afternoon. She lingered at her regular table, sipping coffee and enjoying the day. A little.

[ oooopen ]
[identity profile] southernbender.livejournal.com
Katara was almost completely unconscious in a cot but the Town Hall's makeshift hospital was ticking over like a well-oiled machine.  Even as volunteers and doctors grew more and more tired, their dedication still won out as each patient was tended to carefully.

[OOC:  And this is the last hospilinic post!  The researchers are very close to a cure which will be administered over the course of the evening (IG and OOC).  Please do be sure to ping in your sickies so they can get cured!]
[identity profile] sexydoctor.livejournal.com
Christian hated feeling this helpless. The number of patients were growing, and nothing was relieving their symptoms. Even the kids with their magic mumbo jumbo could only bring fevers down for a short time.

He didn't want to admit defeat, but things were not looking good.


[ooc: Wait for the OCD! May take a few minutes as we have another space on the floral T-day bingo card. And, also, the huge pile of sick people. OCD is up, you may commence being ill.]

Fandom High RPG



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