[identity profile] una-harlequin.livejournal.com
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] mickey-cops.livejournal.com
((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.
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] swissdonkey.livejournal.com
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] sings-too.livejournal.com
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, 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.))
[identity profile] anthony-crowley.livejournal.com
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] shake-bad-guys.livejournal.com
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.))
[identity profile] swissdonkey.livejournal.com
So, Guy was in the park, and judging by the women he'd met so far and the fact that no patient of his could ever die, was quite enthusiastic about it. Sure, there was no Caroline or Mac, but there was also no Sue White, no Martin, no...Joanna. Instead, there were lots of sexy ladies, and...seemingly his competition was a lot of characters from Pirates of the Carribean and Doctor Who. Well, there was no Johnny Depp, from what he could see so far, so he was alright there.

He found his way to the First Aid Station, had a quick search through the medical supplies to see what he had to work with, then went and found himself a bed, where he promptly set about recalibrating his 'Sexy Ladies of the Hospital' league table on his Blackberry for 'Sexy Ladies of the Park', adding extra catagories for 'exotic dimensions/planets' and 'time period's social standards'.

Then he thought he better inform the good, sexy, people of the park that there was a doctor around again. He wrote up a note, and upon finding the bulletin board, set about the search for food.

Posted on the Bulletin Board )

((Oh, and if there's popular demand...I will begin to construct Guy's table of women in the park and I'll put it in his journal. XP))
[identity profile] iron-and-latin.livejournal.com
((closed RP for Sam and the Master))

(It's like an old picture in black and white from some noir film, a beautiful woman smoking a cigarette, the man across from her sipping something expensive from a highball glass. They're talking, words he doesn't quite understand, and there's laughter in their tones, an almost lightness. He recognizes her, it's Una, and the man)

(his eyes, darkening, it could be intimacy but it's not, and he knows that face too, that smile that's a lie, he met the Master at the gates when the man - alien - first arrived. he'd thought he could be a demon then and he thinks so now)

(at the sight of her pressed up against the wall, straining for air as the Master's elegant-but-cruel hands tighten around her throat, and he isn't stopping, isn't giving room for air, and the look on her face that suggested this could all be just a dangerous game slips under the sounds of a windpipe slowly collapsing beneath his fingers)

Sam gasped, seeing a distant glimpse of the ground close to his nose, was aware that (the same room, now in disarray; there had to have been a struggle.) his chest was heaving and the staggering, stabbing pain (the outside of the Toon Town City Hall, one door ever so slightly ajar.) behind his eyes was lessening some. The ground was wet where he'd dropped a half-drunk can of Coke-Cola, the sight slowly spreading liquid interspersed in his sight with the flagging pieces of the vision.

(Una's body, pale and broken and lifeless, and the Master's hands covered in her blood)

He hadn't had a vision since he'd come to the park. He'd never had a vision that hadn't been centered around one of the children like him, or the demon that stalked them. He'd never had a vision with so many complicated pieces. Sam let his forehead rest on the pavement, feeling how his knees ached from falling on them. He'd been right about what he told John- his visions were getting stronger.

Or maybe he was making them stronger.

And things are gonna slide in all directions, won't be nothing you can measure anymore. )
[identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
A man shuffles in the gate, seeming unaware at first of his odd surroundings (or much of anything else.) It's difficult to say whether he's an old man, or if an unkind life has merely given him the appearance of one. Everything about him seems shabby and unkempt, from his untended beard to the well-worn trench coat he wears like a second skin. The dull expression in his blue eyes and the slump of his shoulders suggest that cleaning him up wouldn't really make a great deal of difference, at least to him.

The dried blood soaked into his collar and spattered down the front of his shirt doesn't help matters, either.

Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"

The man looks up for the first time, and stops dead at the sight of the cartoon-come-to-life. "'m John," he says automatically, frowning at Mickey as though trying to puzzle something out.

What the fuck are you supposed to be? )

((John Constantine from the Hellblazer comics, here--the original character inspired by Sting, not the cheap Keanu Reeves movie ripoff! He's arriving shortly after a failed attack by the Vampire King and is still somewhat broken due to losing his lady love, Kit. I also play the other Hellblazer character in the park, so I think I'm all set there. Feel free to come pester him, but be warned he's not in the most sociable of moods right now.))
[identity profile] una-harlequin.livejournal.com
It was late in the afternoon, getting on toward sundown, and Una Persson stood on the deck of the Miss Daisy, smoking a cigarette and leaning on the railing in an unselfconscious pose slightly reminiscent of Garbo. It would have been all very old-Hollywood apart from the cartoon silliness of the boat itself.

"Some sod's up to something," she said out loud. As an observation it wasn't particularly helpful or insightful, because some sod was always up to something, but the sentence had the soothing familiarity of a mantra, and she needed that.

It had been a very bad day. )

((Open RP; feel free to stop and chat.))
[identity profile] redo-fromstart.livejournal.com
Ponder liked working in teams, provided he had a vague semblance of leadership, and after much experimenting with magic, all he'd managed to do was blow up a couple of things (it certainly felt like something was hindering his attempts to mess with universes, and that was disturbing in itself), he decided he needed help. All the help he could get. This really, when he thought about it, was in everyone's interest. Organisation was also Ponder's thing, so maybe a committee was in order.

Posted on the bulletin board )
[identity profile] shake-bad-guys.livejournal.com
Fraser got the bad guy, no surprise there, and even if he'd had to fall down an abandoned mineshaft to do it, well, he was Fraser, so of course when Ray yelled down after him he yelled back up that he was fine, just fine, Ray.

The trouble was, he was also still at the bottom of a mineshaft with an unconscious arms dealer, and now Ray was going to have to figure out how to get both of them back up into daylight and solid ground. Do you ever get the feeling that you're, you know, lost? )

((RayK, from the eccentric 1990s Canadian TV show "Due South." Ray is arriving from just before the end of the series finale.))
[identity profile] swissdonkey.livejournal.com
A dark haired man in green scrubs and a white medical coat appears in front of the park gates, his eyes widen, he blinks a few times, then mutters to himself, “Please don’t tell me I’ve inhaled the nitrous oxide again in paediatrics.” That was Mickey Mouse, talking to him, and he wasn’t in the staff room any more. Either this was a really messed up dream, or Mac had been playing jokes with laughing gas. Guy frowned and decided to ride this one out, then kill Mac later.

Not a drug induced hallucination. )

((Guy is taken from the Green Wing, after Episode 4 of Series 2, where he’s just persuaded Caroline to let him be her lodger and is only just starting to fall for her. This is.
, if you hadn't figured, Bernard/Kitty/Ponder/Beaufort.))
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] gypsyroselouise.livejournal.com
After scouring the park for reading material and having only very limited success at taming the ducks, Gypsy had come to the conclusion that she needed to meet new people if she wasn't going to expire of boredom. The best way she knew to do it? Put on a show.

Accordingly, one early afternoon found her sitting perfectly made-up outside of the Gibson Girl Ice Cream Parlor, lemonade glass, plate, dog-eared magazine, scissors and pincushion on the table by her elbow, as she sewed diligently away at something diaphanous and frilly. She was wearing an enormous shady hat and sunglasses, and what appeared to be a relatively modest (though sparkly) one-piece swimsuit, and her long bare legs were stretched out halfway into Main Street, high heels resting on the seat of one of the cafe chairs.

If that didn't attract some kind of attention she was going to be rather forlorn. Now and then, she'd glance down at the few ducks she'd managed to lure away from the waterways and throw them a bit of broken ice cream cone from the plate.


Jun. 24th, 2008 06:14 pm
[identity profile] redo-fromstart.livejournal.com
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] una-harlequin.livejournal.com
It was yet another sunny morning. )

((Some small number of days after Una's latest confab with Starbuck. Closed to Una and the Master; of course, as long as they're outside, passersby who might conceivably be in the area could easily catch sight of them, but it's probably best not to interfere.  ^_^))

((ETA: *facepalm* Do I really have to say anything, warning-wise? We should know better than to leave them around sharp objects...))
[identity profile] perfect-karma.livejournal.com
Franziska may have been new to America in general and California in specific, but she had no interest in doing tourist things like seeing the sights or going to such a place as Disneyland. As a von Karma, her time was far too valuable to waste doing foolish things, and this rule was especially true for Franziska, who had never considered time a thing to be wasted. While other children had been playing foolish games, Franziska had been studying law and becoming a prosecutor. Even now that she'd been a prosecutor for five years and had never lost a case, she still had no time for Disneyland. There was revenge to consider.

So when she suddenly found herself outside the gates to Disneyland, she took a very skeptical look around, and then took out the whip she kept at her side.

"What foolery is this?" she asked, glaring. "I demand an explanation."

A von Karma's application is perfect )

((Franzy comes from Justice for All, sometime slightly prior to case 2. She hasn't met Phoenix yet, or had the slight change of heart she eventually gets. Which leads me to--

Warning: Franziska is crazy and very good with a whip. If you behave foolishly or anger her, she will whip you. If you want to know what Franziska considers foolish, it is everything. Basically, the whip is a slapstick prop in the game, and no one ever gets really hurt from it (except when she whips someone long enough to make them pass out). But the fact of the matter is, if you come to this app, there is a good chance she will whip you. If you don't want that to happen, you probably shouldn't post.))


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

December 2016

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