caycep: (Sad)
[personal profile] caycep
((Open RP. Picks up after this conversation, post-mayhem and post-opening-of-the-door. Feel free to intercept Cayce at any point.))

After she talked to Ellie, Cayce realized she really needed to pull herself together before dealing with anyone else. She ducked into a bathroom, where she found there was just enough water pressure to wash her face and make herself as presentable as she could. Then she set out across the park, generally in the direction of Tomorrowland and the theatre (and not thinking about who she wouldn't find there anymore, because that would just get her started again), and taking a fairly circuitous route to try and meet as many people as possible on the way.


ETA: Cayce makes an announcement.
[identity profile]
So don't try to touch my heart, it's darker than you think. And don't try to read my mind because it's full of disappearing ink )

((Posted rather well in advance of actually needing it to keep the mun's brain tidy; it's there for when the characters and players are ready.))
[identity profile]
((Continuing from this post.))

In the passageways beneath the park, where a group had gathered to break down a long-closed door, a laser beam was widening, and a broad circle began to blacken the surface of the wood, the locks melting and streaming down in shining rivulets, to puddle at the doorstep. The room was getting hot, now.

Outside, all at once, the rides all stopped. Animatronic figures jolted still; boats bumped each other confusedly; rollercoasters fell to the bottom of their tracks and did not continue up. The lights inside the buildings flickered off; the perpetual background noise of music and soundeffects went silent.

Below, the hole in the door began to crackle and spark around the edges, and for just a moment all the eyes trained on the door could see through it a fathomless darkness. An odd, organic silence filled the air; everyone's breathing and small movements were audible, but so too was a new absence of sound, as though the walls were all holding their breath.

And then the air around the door began to shimmer.
[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.
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.))
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, the—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.))
caycep: (Happy)
[personal profile] caycep
Setting the scene... )


Cayce's words of welcome, given after a majority of the guests have arrived. )

((Party time! Talk amongst yourselves, hassle Cayce, get drunk and ride through It's a Small World (not recommended), and otherwise have fun. Feel free to set your post before or after Cayce's little speech.))

((ETA: Here's the limbo thread!))
[identity profile]
(Private thread for the Doctor, the Master, and the Rani, takes place a day or two after the last conversation the Rani and the Doctor had)

Early one morning, the bright blue police box TARDIS materialized beside the maintenance shack TARDIS, both doors opening with a bang and staying that way. The Doctor, a few large, heavy cables draped over and around his shoulders, secured both so that they would continue to stay open, and then went and rapped smartly on the door to the Rani's TARDIS.

"Oh Rani!" he singsonged.
[identity profile]
If there was one thing the Doctor was naturally incredibly good at, it was passing by someplace at exactly the wrong moment. He wasn’t however, very good at forethought or planning, so it was perhaps to be expected that he might walk past the Rani’s TARDIS at exactly the wrong moment; namely, when she was standing outside of it.

He came around the corner whistling cheerily to himself, having just come back from a visit with John at in Startours. When he caught sight of her the tune died on his lips.

“Rani,” he said, by way of greeting.

((Closed rp for the Doctor and the Rani))


Jun. 24th, 2008 06:14 pm
[identity profile]
Frontierland hadn't quite turned out to be what Ponder expected, it seemed much more dusty and gun-orientated than he had imagined, but it was where he had been put, and it wasn't like somewhere to stay was a huge priority for him anyway. Noting that the river was cleaner and remarkably less smelly than the Ankh, he decided that he wouldn't mind living on what looked like a ship more at home on the sea*.

After much deliberation, he found himself a table, more paper and...a strange sort of pen that didn't require ink, which Ponder thought was a marvellous idea. Then he set about furiously making notes and attempting spells which he thought might provide clues into the park, which was going reasonably well until he hit his elbow into a wooden post, and started a small fire on his clipboard, which spread to his hat, and anyone wandering past would have seen him running frantically to land, jumping up and down on his hat, then attempting to rescue his clipboard through the same method. He sighed, as he should have known better than attempting magic in a confined space, and decided to make use of the bulletin board.


An avaliable large, preferably indoor, place for magical experimentation, specifically based around attempting to find a way out of the park (thus, it is in everyone's interest to assist me). Must be free from most major obstacles, or easily cleared of them.

Also wanted: Anyone with a magical education, or a good understanding of universes, interdimensional and temporal physics who feels able, or would like to assist me in discovering a route out. Also, if you have already attempted to leave, please contact me about the methods used or if you have any information that might be of assistance to me.

Contact Ponder Stibbons, currently on a ship in Frontierland, asap.

P.s. Where can I get a new clipboard? Mine has been involved in a slight incident.

((*if that's possible? Poke me if not.))
[identity profile]
The Doctor was bored. He was also very hungry, and it’d been a fair bit since he’d met anybody new. He decided the best way to fix all three problems at the same time would be to go visit one of the shops in which people had, well set up shop. John had recommended the Blue Bayou to him waaaayyy back when, so he decided to go check it out.

“Hello? Anyone in?” he asked, strolling through the open doors into the dining area.
caycep: (Discontent)
[personal profile] caycep
[The Beatles' "A Hard Day's Night" plays.]

That was for Kira, who's wondering why we don't get more requests for Beatles songs. Good question, Kira.

So. [Weighty pause.]

I got a total of four, count 'em, four requests from two people. And Kira's there was one. I'll go ahead and play through the rest before figuring out exactly how you guys are going to pay for this.

First up, here's "Ordinary Day" by Great Big Sea, a "happy song with the word 'day' in it" from Orihime to Kira.

Orihime would also like to hear "Night and Day" by Bette Midler.

That "Night and Day" shouldn't be confused with the Cole Porter song. A version of which has been requested by Kira, and is dedicated to "the object of his obsession." So here's your request, Kira, as performed by Frank Sinatra.


Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to play every single version of Cole Porter's "Night and Day" that we have up here. You want to hear something else, call in and let me know.

Music Nerd Central presents: EIGHT versions of "Night and Day". Including one featuring John Barrowman pre-Jack Harkness. )

I think that's all the versions we've got up here, at least the ones I've found so far. Aren't you glad? Call in if you want to hear something else. Otherwise it'll be every version I can find of "Memory" from Cats or some crap like that.

*((And because there is some warmth in my shrunken little heart, I offer as well this bootlegged video of Barrowman performing the song "De-Lovely", which I'm guessing is from a production of Anything Goes. Chris Chibnall, are you listening? All-singing-all-dancing special episode of Torchwood NOW, please. Also, I really want to know who the girl is performing with Barrowman there. She's great.))
[identity profile]
Ponder had been ambling around in the High Energy Magic Building after pushing his students out the door so he could do some nice quiet research. He had fed the mouse in Hex, given the Cabinet of Curiosity a peer inside and a judiciously applied poke, made a few notes, then waited patiently for something on Hex to stop working right in the middle of important thaumatalogical calculations*. Much to his pleasure, it worked perfectly, although this did mean he could call it an evening and relax, perhaps by going over some notes he made on tortoises.

However, upon walking out the building, he realised it should be darker than this in Ankh-Morpork, and there weren’t normally two-dimensional mice on the Disc. After a brief moment of speechlessness, he sighed, “Not another pocket universe. I hope the other end of this one is not the Archchancellor’s bath again, because I don’t think my eyes can take that twice. … Three times.”

*Namely, the direct proportion of money spent on feasts to the money spent on his department.

He hoped he'd get home in time for dinner, anyway. )

((Ponder Stibbons from Discworld. Have talked to Susan, Granny and the Feegles. XD Also - for sake of having a pb (I like my pictures, sssh), I'm using Colin Meloy as Ponder. If anyone objects, I'll stop, just poke me. He's actually wearing a pointy hat and robes, despite the icons. He's taken from straight after Making Money. Application may contain spoilers if it comes up. Also, as this is my first venture in a proper fandom, and my first crack at Discworld, please tell me off if I'm doing it royally wrong.))
[identity profile]
((Takes place a day or two after the Doctor gives up trying to get out of the park.))

Not long ago the Doctor had told the Master that his greatest weapon was that he knew him. The time that had passed –and not passed, and un-passed– since then had taught him differently, and as he walked up the steps to the City Hall he realized that he didn’t really know what reaction to expect from him over the whole fiasco. His head told him that they’d done a lot worse to each other over the years than a fistfight; he imagined he’d owe the Master a few conceded battles to even out that particular score to the other’s satisfaction.

And yet somehow he felt a rather disproportionate amount of trepidation as he knocked at the door. When no one answered he heaved a sigh and let himself in.
[identity profile]
mood: melancholy

It was a bit of a cliche, but Aziraphale had found since his stress-induced near meltdown that he had his good days and his bad days. The better ones he passed more or less normally, sometimes even cheerfully; on the others he simply filled his time with whatever distractions came to mind, trying not to wear himself out with pointless fretting until Crowley went to bed, then spent the night within the Presence.

This was turning out to be one of the latter days, and his chosen distraction this afternoon was sitting in the grass near the castle, feeding the ducks. He'd got over the strangeness of having possibly been one of them for a time, and he really did quite like the little birds. Very uncomplicated creatures, ducks. He was certain it didn't matter one whit to any of them where (or indeed who) they might be, or why. As long as they had a pleasant place to swim and the supply of bread crumbs held out, they were perfectly content. Besides, they reminded him of St. James' Park and home.

"Perhaps you've got the better bargain, after all," he observed to a young female whom he had dubbed Alice, as she was always the first to come waddling up when he appeared, though of course he had no way to identify them apart from the usual duck features.

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," he murmured, and smiled when the somewhat fussy little bird permitted him to stroke her feathers.
[identity profile]
A Call for Artists, Actors, and Amateurs of Both Varieties!

Lud love us, we are without a theatre troupe of any kind. The horror! The inhumanity! It must be remedied, good neighbours, for only le bon Dieu knows we need a bit more amusement in this place. I call for a company to be formed with the expressed purpose of putting on plays and other such delights of the stage in order to give our fellow inhabitants of the Park a bit of ... culture and new entertainment.

Auditions to join the company will be held at that stage by the large, fake castle at midday in two days hence...or rather, two nights hence as it's demmed difficult to tell days. Experience need not required - anyone with a fancy to act may come and try their hand.

The first play shall be Much Ado About Nothing, which should be familiar to those who've read their Shakespeare. Everyone is welcome to try out for a specific role, however all that is needed is a five minute performance - anything and all things - to gage artistic flair and style.

Again, and in list form!

Auditions for the Disney Theatre Troupe (gad, awful name, I know)
Where: Stage in front of the insult to castle-building (Cinderella's Castle, I do believe?)
When: Midday, when the sun is just above you, two nights hence
Why: THEATRE! (Much Ado About Nothing, specifically)
What to bring: A five-minute piece to preform (a soliloquy, a song, a dance, zooks, whatever strikes!)

Questions, inquiries, comments should be directed to Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet. Lud!

Letter to Kit )
To Una )
M. Booth )

Md. Marguerite St Just (Blakeney) )

Two days hence, Percy sat down with a pen in his hand by the stage... )

(( Yes, that's right, a theatre company! Woo! The ever-helpful wiki entry for Much Ado About Nothing. Again, you can bother Percy with questions and whatnot, as well as have your character(s) audition in this keep it all nice and in the same spot, of course.))
[identity profile]
Some three or so days after the Doctor's fight with the Master and the subsequent fallout, the TARDIS materialized suddenly right next to the Frontierland Shooting Gallery. No one came out.
[identity profile]
That weird beastman, the almost human one, Viral; his mecha was taller and stronger, its captain more experienced. Viral thought that made him better than Kamina. Skill, planning, logic, reason? To Kamina, these things have nothing to do with true strength! True strength comes from a man’s will! The determination in his soul!
But Viral thought he was better than Kamina, and this irked him. Just because his ganmen was taller than Gurren, Kamina’s mecha.
And there was Simon, in Lagann, right there next to him. A sudden idea occurred to Kamina. As with all sudden ideas, there was only one possible course of action-act on it as quickly as possible.
“Simon, let’s do ‘that’.”
But in the next second, he wasn’t seated in Gurren’s cockpit.

Mickey coughs theatrically.  )
[identity profile]
[Sound of static]

Sorry! Uh, hang on, let me...

[music begins to play, then louder static, sound comes in and out]

Juuuust a--

[crackling noise, and then the sound becomes perfectly clear]

[Static's Theme Song plays]

Shut up, Lil Romeo is Awesome )
[identity profile]
Disney Inmates:

Seems like you've been here for a while and no one's yet been enough of a prat to try and take charge. Good on you! Seeing you lot not killing each other and working for the common good is almost enough to make an old anarchist shed a tear.

But its come to my attention that there are a few superbastards who haven't got the message. Which is why I'm offering up my services. Anyone fucks with you and you can't fuck back, please write your Auntie Jenny, and she'll make sure the bullies learn to play nice. Unless you bloody well deserved it, in which case write me anyway, I could use a laugh.

Comments or Concerns? I probably don't care, but go ahead anyway.


Jenny Sparks

Letter to Elle )

Letter to Sylar )

Letter to Una )


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

December 2016

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