Recent Entries

Current Mood: bored

Vroom Vroom

[There is a DeLorean, heavily modified, doing laps in an empty, paved part of the Nexus. One might wonder what the driver is doing -- practicing for a race? Working on their turning? Just burning rubber because they're bored?

And then one might get a little closer -- and see that there IS no driver.

. . .perhaps it might be fairer to say that the car is bored.]

Going Swimmingly

*Palmer has found a lake today and is giving it an uncertain kind of look. Not only is such a large outdoor feature a bit unexpected when there appears to be nothing in particular dividing it from the couches and chairs in the main area of the nexus, not only would he probably start turning into something aquatic on automatic as soon as he tried swimming, but he's fairly sure that he saw Gollum from The Lord of the Rings swimming in there and that's just too much weirdness for him. Not that he has any room to talk, but he's not up for that meeting yet. So he sits on the beach and watches the waves. Hopefully there won't be any merfolk or cartoon fish, one fantasy character at a time is bad enough.*

Current Mood: confused
Current Location: searching the general area

Looking For A Lost Friend

Have a confused Marty wandering around the general question area, looking like he's searching for something -- or, rather, someone. "Where the hell -- okay, you know what? Place is for questions -- anybody seen Victor? He said he was going to 'clear his head' about an hour ago, and we thought he'd be back by now."

[For those curious, Victor does happen to be in the Nexus -- passed out on a rather large couch that Marty just hasn't come across yet, thanks to the weird way space and directions work in this place. Maybe it thought he needed the sleep]

Current Location: With Doc Brown

Examination

*Palmer finally feels up to letting someone take a look at him. He'd really like to know how dangerous he is, how his body works, even things like whether he really needs to breathe or if it's just habit. He's started to suspect that it's just habit. Same with his heartbeat; since his cells don't seem to be specialized anymore, he could make them move where needed without a heart to pump blood around.

*He still doesn't entirely trust Doc, but then he doesn't entirely trust anyone. Doc is about the best he can do--and already knows something of what they're dealing with. The fact that he saw it in a movie instead of real life is a bit of a downside, but everyone who saw it in real life is dead, infected or a psychological wreck, so it can't really be helped.*

Hey, man. You got everything together? I'm ready to get this over with. *Mostly because he wants to know already. He also feels a bit awkward, especially since Doc isn't really a medical doctor--but going to the clinic would be putting more people at risk, as well as putting himself in the hands of complete strangers, and he can't make himself do it. At least he won't have to do anything hard--well, not hard by his standards. Removing his shirt isn't much different from removing his skin, so his definition of hard may be a little off.*

Current Mood: exhausted
Current Location: A Soft Couch

New(ish) Father Blues

Victor Brown (formerly Van Dort) looks a bit harried when he enters the Nexus -- or, perhaps more accurately, like he really needs a vacation. And about a full day's worth of sleep. He heads to a nearby plush sofa (apparently the place noted the darker-than-usual circles under his eyes and felt sorry for him) and collapses on it with a sigh. "Oh dear. . .does anyone have any tips on how to handle tantrums?" he asks, looking around with a grimace. "Because Chester. . .well, he's started getting grabby, and if you take whatever he's grabbed away from him, he just -- how do babies cry so loud?"

Current Mood: exhausted

(no subject)

*There's one more new person for the Nexus today. He stumbles in looking more than a bit freaked out, but to be fair he's been having one Hell of a day. When he sees that he's no longer where he was he doesn't even bother to be properly confused, instead slumping into a chair and lighting up.* Bunch of paranoid fucking lunatics, man. If I never go back there it'll be too soon.

Current Mood: aggravated

(no subject)

A thin young man screams into the room*, screeches to a halt and then checks the door he came though. On the other side is what looks more like a ruin than a house, with a couple of worrying stains on the walls. "Hey, this isn't my basement! Unless it grew again. Hey, can anyone tell me where my basement went?" Then he sits down on the nearest couch and glares at nothing in particular**.

*Which is to say fast, he's not generally the one screaming.

**As in a seemingly random spot in mid-air, which he's very unhappy about. You would be too if you could see what he sees.

Current Mood: annoyed

(no subject)

The cold hard lands, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet! The rocks and stones are like old bones, all bare of meat! *Here he pauses: the possible options he's come up with, over the years, for continuing require that he either rhyme 'feet' with itself or use the word 'fish' for two lines in a row. Despite his (admittedly small) ambitions Smeagol is not an especially good poet, nor does he have a wide range of topics to choose from.

*Thus he's going with his usual non-solution to problems he can't deal with, which is to splash at the water while hissing and muttering to himself. Happily he's discovered swim trunks; his old clothes were a nightmare and have been relegated to the rag pile.*

(no subject)

*A certain being is sitting with his back against the well, reading a book with a plain red cover. He's humming tonelessly to himself as he flips pages and in general he seems exceedingly bored. A better distraction than the interminable tome would be welcomed.*

Current Mood: drained

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

A door opens, and suddenly the sound of a baby wailing echoes across the nearby chunk of the Nexus. A bleary-eyed Victor Van Dort steps through, bouncing said wailing baby in his arms. "It's okay, it's okay. . .look, we're -- um." He blinks a few times as he registers where he is. "This isn't. . .oh, dear, how did I manage to choose the wrong door?" He goes to step back through --

Then stops, shakes his head, and proceeds to the nearest safe-looking bit of furniture, still cradling his son. "No. Perhaps someone can help here. At least, Alice and the others will get some decent sleep for a change. . ." He looks up, an exhausted man at the end of his rope. "Is there anyone around who's had at least one child and might know why they sometimes just start crying in the middle of the night and won't stop no matter what you do?"

(no subject)

*Mr. Teatime has been exploring for a while. Aside from the door now labeled 'Snapcase (probable paradox)' he has found 'Lancre in elf season (elves are terrific)' and 'burning red hellscape (mind the doughy things)'. Everywhere else has felt like the wrong reality completely and merely been crossed off.

*Since his search is going nowhere so far, he is currently sitting on a random couch and trying to poke himself with his dagger. Since he wants to stab something but doesn't want to be stabbed it's an interesting test of the anti-violence field. So far he's succeeded about one time in five, mostly depending on how well he concentrates on wanting to be able to do something that isn't wandering around crossing off doors.*

(no subject)

Seven scars, seven chains, a soul too stained for Hell, and seven sainted candles burning at the well.

(no subject)

*There is a new man in the Nexus today. He has blonde curls and a boyish face and a bright smile, but it's rather marred by the vacancy in his eyes: one made of some strange grey glass, the other simply lacking anything like sanity or a sense of moderation.

*Oh, and he has a fireplace poker through his chest.* He got it right . . .

(no subject)

There is a little old man in the Nexus today, dark of skin and bright of clothing. He seems entirely unsurprised by being here. He also seems, when the light hits him just right, to have too many limbs to his shadow.

Mr. Nancy is in the house.

(no subject)

The new arrival looked around carefully. His body tensed slightly as he glanced left and then right. A slew of swearwords escaped his lips as he did so.

"Where the hell am I?!"

Current Mood: chipper

(no subject)

There is a strange man in the nexus today, readers. A very strange man. He is even more of a mess than the last new person: he is limping slightly, he is all over in blood and he is smiling a smile that should not be.

Feel up to welcoming him, anyone?

Current Mood: pained
Current Music: Gollum's Song

A Broken One

Today's new arrival (and there have been an awful lot of them lately, yes?) does not so much walk in as fall burning from the 'sky' of the Nexus, never to see his miserable home again. This is almost certainly for the best.

He lands with a bone-jarring thud, hand almost fused shut from holding--or wearing?--a mostly-melted lump of gold. Runes wrap around his fingers, fading in and out desolately.

Entry tags:

washed up beach

Salvage

There's an utter mess scattered over Washed Up Beach today, and a few people who seem to be trying to clean it up. Since the weather in the Nexus is always warm enough to go swimming (except when it isn't) there's also one family already who arrived with a picnic basket and found the beach just isn't suitable for that today. Care to have a look?

(This continues just after this scene. Feel free to talk to anyone there if you want, or just walk up and start poking around. I just ask that no one successfully walk off with any critical parts as there are plans to put that back together. XD )

Current Mood: annoyed

Entry tags:

sign and soapbox

A Far-Overdue Voicetest

From a door that may be vaguely familiar to some of those here comes what appears to be a robotic centaur, writing in a notepad and shaking its head. "Stupid fucking Visserarchy. How it lasted as long as it did I haven't a clue."

After a moment it looks around with a sigh. "Oh what now . . ."

Current Mood: curious
Current Location: By the Sign

Paging Dr. Spock (not that one)

[It's a two-for-one deal in the Nexus today -- or perhaps it should be three-for-one? Alice is settled into an armchair not far from the sign, with Victor perched beside her on the arm. Their reasons for approaching the question area today should be obvious from A) Alice's rather rounder abdomen and B) the parenting books spread out on a table they'd procured. Alice has one in hand, and is regarding it with a dubious expression]

So. . .as is probably clear, Victor and I are due to become parents sooner rather than later. And, as is only right, we're doing what we can to prepare. And while the advice in these is fine and all, neither of us would mind a few tips from "out in the field," as you might say. Obviously we've been gathering advice from my family and his, but -- well, is there anything anyone here could offer about parenting? From either end -- we'll take "I wish my parents had or hadn't done this" as well.