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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.
no subject
And he looked at the group of people. Oh man, what a mess. None of them fit in for this place. At least clothing wise. Everyone of them would fit in fine in Missionworth, if they were dressed properly.
"If it could communicate the way we do, I'm sure it would, but if you consider it and look at past reactions and habits, it makes sense. It's something that has wants and feelings but holds the control and fate of this island." he shrugged. "Or so we thought back then...er, now. Well, maybe."
There were fixed points in time to tell him the years, and he was pretty sure he'd figure that much out. Still, how much time before...
"Yelling at?" He blinked, then frowned, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly. "Ah, right." He waved a hand down to the ground. "The Core." Blame it all on the Core, remember. "Pretty sure it's why we're here. You're a newcomer or a native?" He already knew the answer, or so he thought. He recognized the faces of most the people from the Newcomer networks.
no subject
She shook her head. "This is all too much. How are we supposed to get back to our time?" At the question, she oh'd, "Right - I'm a Newcomer. I just came back a few months ago."
no subject
At that second comment? Yea, he didn't know. He frowned, glancing around again. Who might know, and who could he send to talk to them. "I'm not sure. I've never been thrown out of my era before. Other then location, this is new for me as well."
Yep, he was pretty sure most of them were the new newcomers. Made sense.
no subject
Then back to Darwin, "I mean, obviously whatever it, hasn't happened yet - there haven't been any monsters around, and they're usually prowling at this hour." She'd assume anyway, since she made a point to not go out at night whenever possible.
"It is... that's ... unfortunate." No way of finding out how to go back home OR to the time they were in before.
no subject
As she spoke about the Darkness he looked at her steadily. He actually wrote the guide on the darkness, so this fact wasn't missed. "That's why I know this has to be before 1918. Or at least before September of that year." he shrugged, looking uncomfortable. Then he pointed out. "The hatch to the core, however, is here so it has to be after 1916...17? Something like that."
no subject
"You were here during this time once already, right? Do you remember this far back, what happens that can give a clue?"