caycep: (Thoughtful)
[personal profile] caycep
((Closed to Cayce, Azi, Crowley, and Ellie. Backdated to a day or two after the Bentley Babes caper.))

Cayce wasn't jealous. That much was easy enough to define; she cared for Crowley a lot, but not That Way. And notwithstanding her admission at the community Truth or Dare game, she definitely wasn't queer for Ellie either, although she certainly liked her well enough. Actually, she thought the two of them pairing up was kind of cute.

But for reasons she was still hard pressed to identify, she was a little perturbed when the two of them up and vanished from the lake party, and clearly Aziraphale was too. They'd exchanged a few half-heartedly snarky (and subtly worried) comments at the time before finally sort of shrugging it off, and Cayce had said something about coming by the tea shop later.

So now she was suiting action to the word. She sort of hoped that Crowley wouldn't be around. It'd spare everyone a touch of awkwardness.
[identity profile]
((Closed for John and the Doctor, backdated to the day after the meeting))

The Doctor rapped sharply on the door to the Star Tours early in the morning and stood waiting, munching on an apple and humming the Star Wars theme.
[identity profile]
((set not long after the Master gives the Rani some blood to test.))

The only thing worse than the Rani's curiosity was his own particularly violent brand.

What a fantastic death abyss. )
caycep: (Hmm.)
[personal profile] caycep
It was the day after the meeting.

Cayce waited at the statue for the underground expedition to show up. It was a bit bigger and more unwieldly than she'd originally intended, and keeping everyone in line was going to be worse than herding cats, but ... well, you pays your money and you makes your bets.

She really, really hoped this was going to work.

((Here's how this works: if you are participating in the expedition, post a comment in the Meetup thread below to indicate that you're showing up. The main body of the RP will go in the Expedition thread, in which the team actually goes underground and does their thing.))
[identity profile]
Posted to the bulletin board AND sent every single resident of the park as a letter:

Hi, everyone! It's me, T-Rex! So anyway, I noticed that people used to make surveys a lot and lately they haven't been doing it as much. I've decided to rectify that by making a survey myself! Also, to mix things up a little, I've decided to do away with this 'anonymous survey' stuff and ask a lot of inappropriate personal questions while asking your full names! Fun, right? I thought so! You can reply here at the board or mail your responses to T-Rex!

[Poll #1275323]
[identity profile]
Guy had spent his morning carefully recalibrating his League Table, then realised there were only a couple of people on it, and this was not on. There was little in the way of medical emergencies here, apart from French guys who didn't know how to use swords, so he went for a mid afternoon wander, finding himself a bench and a good place to people watch. Or, to be more specific, women-watch.

It wasn't really a league table until he'd got at least three or four more women to add to it. Whilst he waited, he fiddled about playing on his Blackberry, seeing if there was a way he could get this to work in the park. No signal. That was the most depressing empty space he'd ever seen.

((As promised. League table. Only filled in with women he's met, of course. Feel free to mosey by and he'll add your character/leer/get slapped (delete as applicable). If I've got anything terribly wrong, please come and poke me and I can change numbers around.))
[identity profile]
The Master wasn't sure if the Rani checked her mail, so the day after his encounter with Samuel Winchester an envelope appeared on the doorstep of her TARDIS.

Inside there was a vial of blood and a note:

Oh my darling, dearest, light of my life, whose intellect constantly astounds and amazes even the lowliest of creatures in this Rassilon forsaken place,

Do me the tiniest favor of running this through some standard blood tests? If there is there is any sort of anomaly worth note, I would love to hear about it.

She would know who it was from. And hopefully peaking her curiosity would be enough to get from her what he wanted.
[identity profile]
After being seemingly possessed by the spirit of piracy and violence, whilst seemingly forgetting his inability to use any kind of weapon, Beaufort thought it better to stay indoors. Especially after that new doctor took the trouble to laugh at his misfortune in French (which, admittedly, led to some sarcastic comments about the Swiss), he didn't particularly feel like being social. For at least a week or so, his desire to not be ridiculed further by certain people was winning over his desire to go and apologise for his impropriety. If you could class drawing a sword on someone as impropriety.

However, he did eventually find the nerve to go and knock on Percy's door, and for once, was hoping he, and not Marguerite, was in instead of vice versa. There was a lot of explaining that needed to happen, but there was a lot he felt he had to say too. Before he lost the chance to say what he had so foolishly got into a proper fight over.
[identity profile]

Leader of greatest empire on earth looking for an assistant. Must be able to lift heavy loads, clean secret labs without destroying glassware, avoid questioning orders, and enjoy roller coasters. Cooking and baking a plus. No experience necessary. Will train the right candidate. Preferably large, young, male, cute, and dumb as a brick. Good advancement opportunity. Contact Yzma.
[identity profile]
Seemingly out of nowhere, a teenage girl in a blue magician's cape and hat appeared in front of the gates. She frowned, and muttered "But this isn't the backstage room with the mini-sandwiches at all..." before noticing the gates in front of her and gasping.

"Disneyland? I didn't mean to disappear myself to Disneyland! Unless...this is a surprise from daddy?" She smiled and starts bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly. "Thank you so much, daddy! I didn't even know you could afford Disneyland or you knew how to do magic!"

Ta-da! )

((Trucy is taken from the end of Apollo Justice/GS4. Permission from the other Ace Attorney characters has been granted!))
[identity profile]
... So either Trucy had learnt how to improve her illusions, or something really weird was happening to Apollo. And, considering the usual events in Apollo's life, if he thought something was really weird, it was pretty darned odd.
Ace Attorney, take two )
((Apollo Justice of Ace Attorney: Apollo Justice! Taken from the end of said game, so he's something of a spoiler for that game. Also for the Ace Attorney series, really. I have permission from the other PW-muns to app him.))
[identity profile]
Marguerite watched as it happened in front of her, her own hand raising and shooting off the pistol to stop them from murdering each other. They looked up addressed the fact that she was there then continued. Bloody men! But something caught her ear.

"They seek 'im here, they seek him thar, them Frenchies seek 'im everywhere! Be he in heaven, he might be in 'ell, that demmed an' dastardly Pimpernel!"

Marguerite woke in a tangle of sheets before remembering she was herself again and her dear Percy was still beside her sleeping soundly. How precious he looked when he slept, so innocent, how she adored lightly touching his skin as he slept just to hear him murmuring and trying to swat her away. They had yet to speak of that day, but Marguerite seemed to get the feeling everyone was in a similar situation. Well, with the clothing and the speech anyway. She closed her eyes and remembered what she heard Percy say before it truly sank in. "Pimpernel?" She repeated aloud. She silently moved out of bed and went to the door of their small cottage and saw the--small little scarlet flowers. In utter disbelief she walked back to bed in a haze, gazing on the sleeping form of her husband, taking his hand in hers and kissing it lightly before she saw his ring. It---it was changeable? Her fingers slowly moved the metal bit and it was a, flower. "Scarlet Pimpernel," she breathed before looking at his face again. Percy? Her own dearest Percy, the Scarlet Pimpernel? The man who stole her heart, who---who she nearly killed. She had sold him out, if he hadn't ended up here he surely would have been caught and killed.

Marguerite sat on the edge of the bed with her back to her husband, covered her mouth and sobbed. She would have killed her own husband!
[identity profile]
(Morning after the door meeting)

Having sobered up (under extreme duress, in his opinion,) achieved a more or less functional state and raided the dispensers in one of the men's rooms for several packets of liquid hand soap, John had contrived to clean himself up somewhat adequately in the lake. He was currently sitting on the shore near the riverboat dock, hung over, shirtless and soaking wet, a cigarette dangling forgotten from his lips, as he attempted to shave several months' worth of beard using his athame and a small sparkly pink Princesses mirror he'd liberated from a gift shop. Attempted being the key word, since his hands were shaking so badly he had to keep stopping or risk slitting his own throat.

After nicking himself for the fifth or sixth time, he swore quietly and lowered the mirror and knife, ready to concede defeat. But then a faint tingle at the back of his neck brought a cynical half-smile to his face. "Your new boyfriend know you like to skulk around ogling strange half-naked men?" he asked the unseen presence at his back without turning around.
[identity profile]
LeMoNaDe: Make An Offer FrEe!!!

In the middle of Main Street, two girls were stationed underneath a large, brightly decorated sign with several cups of lemonade and a large pitcher of more. Rukia was standing on a step ladder in order to make herself look taller as she peered out over the edge of the stand she and Orihime had set up.

The lemonade came in several colors and flavors -- the traditional yellow, cherry, lime, and other even more adventurous flavors, dreamed up by Orihime. There was a tip jar balanced perilously on the edge of the stand they'd made, though who knew what could possibly be put in it.
[identity profile]
There had been times in his recent past, rather more than a few, in fact, during which Benton Fraser had wondered if perhaps he might be a couple beams short of a bunkhouse. But recently he had come to believe that he was still in possession of his faculties, and more or less in the correct order. Facing his mother's killer at the bottom of an abandoned mineshaft and watching the spirit of his father find peace had been a comforting experience in many ways, although he found as he stood alone in the darkness with the unconscious Muldoon beside him that there was an emptiness in his chest that he hadn't felt since he was a boy.

Still, at least he was certain now that the last few years of Bob Fraser's rather bemusing post-mortem interference in Benton's life had in fact been real, and not some sort of bizarre hallucination brought on by the trauma of knowing that his father had been shot down in the middle of an ice flow by a man who had once been his good friend and partner. Benton had always believed he had more emotional stamina than that.

But when what was once a dark, narrow mineshaft is suddenly a bright, sunny blue sky and a temperature that he would estimate at somewhere between -23 and -25 degrees Celsius is suddenly 27 or 28 degrees, and he finds himself facing what very much appears to be the gates of an amusement park, he can't help but wonder if perhaps he has indeed lost the last of his marbles.

There is a distinctly wolfish yowl from somewhere around 2.5 metres above him and Benton instinctively holds out his arms. Diefenbaker lands in them a moment later, with an extremely put upon whine, but Benton ignores him in favor of staring at the figure of Mickey Mouse bustling towards him. He's beaming and offering his hand to shake.

"Ha-hi there! I'm Mickey. Gosh, it's great to meet you! Welcome to the Happiest Place on Earth!"

Benton blinks once, and then once more just to be sure.

"Oh," he says. Oh my. )
caycep: (I'm listening)
[personal profile] caycep
((The return of Cayce and Quixote! Wide open RP. If you haven't already, catch up with the adventures of Quixote, Setsuna, Cayce, and Adam here.))

At some point after Pirate Day, an announcement came on over the park PA system.

"Hi everyone. This is Cayce Pollard. I'd like everyone to come to a meeting tonight to discuss a new discovery that's been made about the park. The meeting's in the Honey I Shrunk the Audience auditorium, at sundown. This is pretty important, so please be there if you can."

That evening ...

Don't forget to keep your head warm )


After the various discussions had settled out somewhat, Cayce finally cleared her throat.

"Okay, so here's the plan. Tomorrow at midday, anyone who wants to join the underground expedition should meet at the statue. It sounds like the time dilation or whatever it is makes time pass more slowly belowground than up here, so I think Adam and Setsuna will be fine. We should take the time to get ready with whatever we'll need to bring with us." Plus, of course, it was Adam. Of course they'd be fine. "Then, once we're at the door and ready to proceed, theā€”the Master will send a signal to the Doctor, who'll lead the distruption. Anyone has any other questions, find me. Thanks, everybody."

((And there will be a fresh post for the expedition when my life is a little more normal.))
[identity profile]
Beaufort woke up and realised something was incredibly wrong, even before he spoke. His clothes were...distinctly not a suit and not made in the 1940s. In fact, it struck him more as something distinctly historical. He frowned, wondering when he invaded one of the exhibits for clothes, how drunk he was, and where the hell he got that much alcohol from. There was also a sword. He was pretty sure it was not a good idea to go to sleep with a sword attached. After having woken up and realising his accent was...coarser, less educated and more prone to swearing at the situation, he shook his head and decided to head outside to see what the hell was going off.

Part of him, somewhere, was looking for one man in particular, as there was a pirate in him. A rather angry pirate.

((Peanut gallery is most welcome, but don't, um, interfere just yet, pleaaase))
[identity profile]
There were times when having a habit of talking to yourself had definite benefits. Sunshine had no sooner started muttering to herself as she started in on the days baking before she realized she'd just referred to her pantry as "the bung hole," and froze in horror.

Last year, the whole thing had struck her as funny, right up until it led to things...happening between her and her closest friend in the park. And while she herself would have been willing to try to laugh the whole thing off, Fett's reaction hadn't exactly been in line with that course of action: it had pretty much been The Thing Of Which We Do Not Speak for months now.

The idea of it happening all over again? No. Sunshine headed immediately back to the storage room that served as her bedroom and went and put on the baggiest, least alluring t-shirt and jeans she possessed, went and hung the "Closed" sign on the restaurant door, and then, mouth firmly shut, set about baking a pan of Bitter Chocolate Death. She had a feeling she'd need it.
[identity profile]
Crowley awoke, not in his comfortable bed inside Club 33, but disoriented and hung over on a bench in front of the castle, an empty bottle of rum still clutched in one hand, mouth fuzzy, and head pounding.


He brought up the other hand to guard his bleary, uncovered eyes from the glaring sun. It took him a moment to realize that there was a great deal more frilly sleeve around his wrist than there should be. Another second later, Crowley ever so cautiously moved his hand down to again discover a mustache and double braided beard.

"Why is the rum always gone?"

It wasn't what he meant to say.
[identity profile]
Ray had a problem. Mickey'd told him he was edgy so he was supposed to go to Frontierland, which was fine, okay, and when he checked it out on one of the maps he found it was also where the Shooting Gallery was. He had an appointment to go yell at a time-travelling English chick about the way she defined "safe" in terms of people having guns.

Trouble was, he also had a whole damn dogsled loaded with gear to look after, and only one free hand to carry with. The other one he needed for his own gun. After swearing vociferously, Ray finally decided to load up a pack with the really essential stuff (his favorite leather jacket, all the weapons, Fraser's hat and uniform) and leave the other crap behind for now. If someone wanted to steal and eat his pemmican supply, let them. It would serve them right.

He stomped his way off to the Gallery, where he found a note.

He hadn't been here more than a few hours, and already women were messing with his head.

((He's got a destination in mind, but you're welcome to stop him on the way there or back. Posted now so as to avoid Ray having to do his yelling with intermittent "yarr!"s. Not that that would stop him.))


A world of laughter. A world of tears. A world of hope. A world of fears.

December 2016

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