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sirenspull_logs2013-01-01 01:12 am
thepull_mods) wrote in sirenspull_logs2013-01-01 01:12 am
Entry tags:
- * open log,
- *anniversary event,
- allen walker,
- alouette,
- amy sorel,
- ciel phantomhive,
- dave strider,
- deadpool,
- discord,
- ella,
- enjolras,
- frau,
- gabriel | the trickster,
- grantaire,
- harry dresden,
- hellmaster phibrizzo,
- hiccup,
- iroh,
- jake english,
- jesse pinkman,
- john egbert,
- john marcone,
- keigo asano,
- lisbeth salander,
- master eraqus,
- nelliel tu odelschwanck,
- raphael sorel,
- roxas,
- rue,
- sasuke uchiha,
- sissel,
- son goten,
- teito klein,
- toothless
[Anniversary Event Starting Log] I Awaken To Another Day...
Who: Open Log! This means everybody!
When: September 1st, 1918. Dawn.
Where: Farmer Whitty's Squash Patch, City of Missionworth (Ye Olde... Baseball Diamond?)
Summary: Midnight on New Years Eve finds the entire Newcomer Community thrust backwards in time...oh, 95 years or so?
Warnings: A lot of potentially drunk people are about to land facefirst in a field. Once word is out that a small horde of strangers have mysteriously arrived on the island, Military Forces will be rounding them up for questioning. You be the judge of how badly this goes.
Whether right in the middle of a rowdy parties as toasts are raised with complementary champagne, or having a quiet evening at home on the couch, watching GloTV's annual Auld Lang Syne Countdown Extravaganza, a sickeningly familiar tug of a feeling suddenly wrenches in the gut of every Newcomer on the island who has been brought here by Pull in the past three years.
As fireworks sound over AGI tower and the clock finishes striking twelve, the world spins. For a dazzling colorful moment, flashing scenes from their stay in Port roll backwards like rewound film before their eyes. It becomes a blur, the Pull drawing tighter and tighter, ears might pop and there's a very good chance the contents of their stomachs might be turned out.
And then there is coolness, a brisk breeze, morning dew and damp earth beneath them all.
The newcomers are scattered across a planted field of winding vines and colorful gourds, which won't be ready for harvesting for another month or so. Several startled crows are circling overhead, screaming. There are no tall towers on the skyline, and there are more surrounding trees, particularly toward the western horizon- golds and oranges of early autumn.
To the east, a picturesque early 20th century settlement stretches to the island shoreline, already bustling with traffic and construction in the early dawn's light. There is no putrid, sick-sweet rotting smell which normally lingers for awhile in the morning fog, after the lifting of darkness.
Two young boys stand agape at the edge of the field for several moment, leaning over a fencepost, then turn and tear off towards a homestead not far away, shouting for their papa.
Welcome to the City of Missionworth. Look's like The Core's decided to give you all a history lesson for the New Year.
When: September 1st, 1918. Dawn.
Where: Farmer Whitty's Squash Patch, City of Missionworth (Ye Olde... Baseball Diamond?)
Summary: Midnight on New Years Eve finds the entire Newcomer Community thrust backwards in time...oh, 95 years or so?
Warnings: A lot of potentially drunk people are about to land facefirst in a field. Once word is out that a small horde of strangers have mysteriously arrived on the island, Military Forces will be rounding them up for questioning. You be the judge of how badly this goes.
Whether right in the middle of a rowdy parties as toasts are raised with complementary champagne, or having a quiet evening at home on the couch, watching GloTV's annual Auld Lang Syne Countdown Extravaganza, a sickeningly familiar tug of a feeling suddenly wrenches in the gut of every Newcomer on the island who has been brought here by Pull in the past three years.
As fireworks sound over AGI tower and the clock finishes striking twelve, the world spins. For a dazzling colorful moment, flashing scenes from their stay in Port roll backwards like rewound film before their eyes. It becomes a blur, the Pull drawing tighter and tighter, ears might pop and there's a very good chance the contents of their stomachs might be turned out.
And then there is coolness, a brisk breeze, morning dew and damp earth beneath them all.
The newcomers are scattered across a planted field of winding vines and colorful gourds, which won't be ready for harvesting for another month or so. Several startled crows are circling overhead, screaming. There are no tall towers on the skyline, and there are more surrounding trees, particularly toward the western horizon- golds and oranges of early autumn.
To the east, a picturesque early 20th century settlement stretches to the island shoreline, already bustling with traffic and construction in the early dawn's light. There is no putrid, sick-sweet rotting smell which normally lingers for awhile in the morning fog, after the lifting of darkness.
Two young boys stand agape at the edge of the field for several moment, leaning over a fencepost, then turn and tear off towards a homestead not far away, shouting for their papa.
Welcome to the City of Missionworth. Look's like The Core's decided to give you all a history lesson for the New Year.
Open
Thus, Syrena found herself amongst a field of vegetables, still dripping wet from the sea as she grasped at her nude legs, pulling them toward her equally exposed chest. Only moments before had she been watching fireworks set off in the Darkness, curious to see what they looked like. It was New Year's eve, after all, and while that didn't mean too much to her, it was supposed to be a huge celebration for those on land. She remembered Dean mentioning it at Christmas, but she had never asked to join, simply because she didn't know what exactly it entailed.
And so, she had spent the night alone like she did most nights, keeping herself occupied beneath the waves. As long as she didn't think about it she wasn't lonely. Most of the time, at least.
For now, she wasn't lonely she was alarmed, wet fingers clutching at the pendant tied around her neck that Dean had given her months ago. It was supposed to protect, was it not? In such a sorry state she needed all the protection she could get.
hay gurl
...Woah. There's a naked-! Oh, right, she's probably-and if he offers her his-then she'll be...naked. In it. No. No, he means she'll be warm inside his-yeah. Okay. Yeah. He's not going to need it anyway. They...this big empty field must have a nice warm cow to stand beside somewhere.
Besides, he recognizes this place. As much as he wishes he didn't. Because that means something is substantially fucked up at the moment. His apartment should be just across the way, where all of that big fat nothing is. Swell.
...Naked girl. Right. Okay. Right. He's got this.
"Hhh. Um. Miss? It's...Sirina, right?"
hay gurl hay - sorry for the disgusting lateness of this ;A;
"Hello Yosuke."
it's all good
It takes him a moment to stop staring, and remember to jerk his jacket off his shoulders. Ugh, if she knows anything about human anatomy this conversation could get awkward fast. He practically shoves the coat at her and glances away, trying very hard to think of anything besides naked girls.
no subject
"Thank you."
no subject
no subject
He located her with a thought and flew to her. "Syrena. Are you all right?"
Sorry for the late ;A;
Which meant not as well as she wished. She wasn't hurt but she was clearly miserable. She was thankfully covered up - Yosuke had given her his jacket and she'd zipped it up all the way. Even so, she'd been left to stand awkwardly, fingers gripping the end of the coat to make sure it stayed down over her bottom.
Needless to say, she was anything but pleased.
It's ok!
no subject
no subject
Raphael's shoulders moved, almost a shrug. "I don't know."