accordancy | Entries tagged with c:robin redbreast

What, you're all still here?

[There happens to be two people outside the tower right now, though one of them is immediately heading inside because even though they're back after months god-knows-where she still isn't ready to deal with other people yet. So that leaves one tall, attractive guy hanging out in front with his grimoire.]

I'm surprised. I thought you kids would have left by now.

slukhtis

[ tap, tap tap, tap, tap tap tap, thunk.

Boy does someone sound painfully bored right now: ]

I dreamt we all drowned in a river of blood. That fire burned the Tower and it bled like a bitch.

[ A suffering sigh. ]

But then Robin came out of fucking nowhere and kicked me in the head.

[ For the record? His mind is a very special place. Even he doesn't understand what the fuck is going on in it half the time. ]

tigerhound

[An open grimorie, of battered leather with a bone clasp, records a sharp gasp as Sandrine wakes up.]

[She didn't remember going to sleep, she certainly didn't remember going to sleep someplace this fancy. This immediately puts her on her guard, and she's shifting out of the bed with a rustle of sheets and a light padding of worn shoes as she's going around to check the room. Her main concerns are whose room is it, where is it, is there anything she can use in it, and can she get out without anyone noticing? It's not until she finally stops and pulls a curtain aside to look outside that she realizes she's quite a bit more lost then she originally thought.]

This isn't Boise.

ruminant

[ It is getting to be evening times now, so it's not super super hot out, just pleasantly warm and still kind of bright. Indoors or outdoors, there are probably enough things to do and enough people out and about to have fun or...harassment is fine too. ]

{ ooc; mingle post! make a comment, tag other people's comments, s'all good! }

mortalcoil

[it's taken him a little bit, but he can move again. Enough to stand, slowly walk, carefully wash his face and arms in the sink. He can't quite manage the task of getting a shirt on over his head, but he's cold and doesn't feel like showing off the extensive mural of bruises and healing wounds on his torso, so he settles with bunching a sheet around his shoulders.

And he has a question. It's an important one; he can't be the only one thinking about it. Who knows, maybe someone has figured out an answer by now. And if not? ...He'll settle for hearing guesses.

So, silently, a few words scrawl themselves in very neat script across the page--]

'Why are you here?'

[and then, steeling himself and clutching the sheet around his shoulders with one hand, bracing himself carefully against the railing with the other, he hobbles his way down the stairs in the Hideout. He's heading toward the couches in the main room-- those really comfortable ones. It's been a little while since he's been able to hang out in them]

tabbytastic

[it's taken her months of work... first getting the player, then scrounging around for batteries, and a long fruitless search for CDs in the city. Finally, after a genius piece of advice, she has everything she's been looking for.

Anyone with an open grimoire will get treated to this triumph in the middle of the night, in the form of some very loud... grating... music?]

Goddamn, this is better, isn't it? I've missed this so bad. [she's flipping through most songs before they're even halfway through. She doesn't have the patience to listen to whole songs right now--too wired, too excited with her new toy]

This place needs more music and less... fucked up shit. ...Seriously, what is it with dead people coming back to life around here? Is that the new 'thing' now?

[oh, actually, that gives her an idea. She switches to a new song and rocks out for a minute. Sorry to anyone who might have tried to shut their journal by now but lives on the second floor. She's sitting in the doorway of the room she never uses, CDs scattered all around her, music blasting into the hallway]

I mean, don't get me wrong. It can have its perks... [she gives one of those huhuhu laughs that usually follow dirty inside jokes. Hi, Gabe.] ...But it's mostly just fucking stupid.

...And, speaking of stupid, some bleeding heart should probably come check on the loser in 204. Don't think he wants me as a babysitter.

deadwhisperer

( CUT FOR TL;DR )

Ghh--aaaah! Haaa, a-aaah, haaa--!

[ Breathing. He needs to breathe--the realization hits him like a sack of bricks. He's sucking in breath after breath of ragged air, and it feels almost uncomfortable compared to...before? What was before? What's now? And then he's...coughing? Yes, that's what it is--he's coughing loudly and wetly, rolling over onto his side and trying to make sense of everything.

There's solidity beneath him; something tangible and soft but it feels so rough on his clumsy, unpractised hands that he can't even get a grip on it. He tries to crack his eyes open and at first, everything is a blur of colour and he can't make sense of any of it. Reds, golds, dark greens and blacks--everything comes together to paint a smudged picture his mind doesn't recognize and it's horrendously disorienting.

Where is he? What's going on?? He tries to push himself up and finds that suddenly, his body feels feather-light. For a brief second he's floating--and then he hits another solid surface much harder than the...bed? Yes, he was on a bed--so this must be the floor then. God, everything aches.... It feels like he hasn't used his body in weeks. Maybe even longer than that, he thinks belatedly as he struggles to push himself upright. The more he moves the more stiffness begins to leave his limbs, until it's only the ache in his joints and the fog in his head keeping him from standing perfectly upright.

He needs to get out of here, he thinks--needs to find...who? Is he looking for someone? he can barely remember as he stumbles forward, out of the room and into the Tower's halls. ]

princeofwhores

[His Highness and supreme ruler of Tel Maran, crown prince of the Dal'Anor Empire; the Emerald Prince himself is looking.... rather terrible.

In fact, he's not been seen for quite some time, and when he's finally stepping out of his room, he looks a lot thinner. The prince appears sickly and tried, and he walks like he's in his own world, taking a break once before the stairs to catch his breath.

So how about them curses? They tend to suck.]

Current Mood: sick

but_heflied

Humans have some pretty weird ideas when it comes to books, don't they?

[Hey, Accord! It's your favorite Butterfly disguised as a Moth, Nick, just hanging outside the library with a pile of books on the floor next to him and his grimoire in his hand. He had gotten bored recently, and having discovered the library, he decided to check out what sort of literature people read around here. What he found was more surprising than expected.]

Seriously, half of these so called "children's books" read as if the author was on drugs or something. I mean, fairy tales are great and all, but they should at least make one lick of sense, you know? Like this "Alice in Wonderland" one. I get the whole magic part of it, but it doesn't really teach you anything. It's all just rabbits and chess boards and weird creatures who speak in rhyme.

And, honestly, I don't really get it.

[A pause.]

I like the ones where there's a monster or a dragon or something and the guy has to kill it to save the princess. Those are cool, I have to admit.

Why don't they make more of those...?

wingdust

[the grimoire falls open, catching a surprised little--] Mm!

[and then a very worried mumble. followed by... what sounds like soft wings flapping.

...and so, there is now what seems to be a fuzzy little moth girl fluttering aimlessly into random corners of the lobby, bouncing in confusion off the walls and windows, only managing to hop and hover a few feet off the ground at a time]

tabbytastic

[there's a stretch of open ground kind of near the beach where the grass begins to thin out, unremarkable save for the short boulder settled in the dirt and the shambling figure pacing listlessly beside it.

She wanders away a few paces, like she's going to leave. Listening to the slosh of waves down along the shore, apathetically sniffing the salty air. Maybe looking for something. Maybe waiting for something to catch her attention--something to tell her leave. But nothing has changed, she can't come up with a compelling enough reason to move on. ...So she just doesn't.

Wandering back to the boulder, hunkering down beside it.

...Wherever the journal is, laying somewhere in the slush, it catches the keening little sound of an animal's whine.]

[[ooc: tabby is sad, man. ;; set at night, and ambiguously dated back... months? idk, time has been weird. something. /shrug!]]

heresyandlace

[he's been here for months, and not once has he shifted to take on his true form. He still has time before he really needs to, but... it's maybe starting to get to him now. The restlessness that has been needling him for the past few weeks is getting harder to remedy. He can't sleep, aggression is perpetually crawling in his veins...

...and damn is he hungry.

And he's sure he only ate a day or two ago. He must be burning up energy reserves like kindling. So... down to the kitchen he goes. Again.

He's distracted, only half paying attention to himself as he stands in front of the fridge, door hanging open and letting the cold air out while he thinks. He needs protein, but there's no meat. He cleared that out last time he was down here.

Eggs would be great, but after some digging around, he finds that the hard boiled ones are all gone. Did he eat those too? A little despondent, he picks up the carton and frowns at it thoughtfully. He could maybe cook some up, but he's impatient. And really lazy. But he's so hungry--he just needs a burst of energy. At this rate, maybe he should just give up, shift forms and head out into the woods to do some hunting.

He's deep in thought; he hardly notices he's doing it. Picking up an egg--a raw one--from the carton... he slides the entire thing into his mouth.

The journal might catch a little 'pop' as he tightens his jaws, followed by a muffled 'crrrrunch' as he closes them all the way. Then he swallows... and moves onto the next one.

pop. crrrunch... pop. crrrrunch...

He's going to be there a little while. Spacy and preoccupied, he's going to be systematically making his way through the entire carton without meaning to.]

mortalcoil

[he wakes up choking.

It's like he's picking up right where he left off. Panicking, clawing, fighting for air. There is no voice, but there is still sound for the book to catch. The kind of struggled breath that comes from barely fighting back sobs, air thick in the lungs, raw in his throat as he tries desperately to come to his senses.

He's just not used to this. Breathing. Feeling. Suddenly existing again. As bad as the nightmares have been, this is abruptly worse.]

((ooc: Coil's back! ...not that many people knew he was even gone, or anything. Robin is finding him in person, but if anyone says anything over the journal, he'll get back to them after he can find a pen))

heresyandlace

[he'd been debating getting himself to leave his room for some time-- look for the cause of his suffering, hunt it down, because it's all still getting worse...
And, much more realistically, find something to eat. He's starting to scrape the bottom of his energy reserves, and hitting the point where he can't uphold his mask any longer is not an option. Already, it's taking conscious effort to maintain it without too many cracks.

...And then flickers of necromancy go stabbing into his attention, and that really is the last straw. It rankles him--and what if it's related?

So, Tek is out and about in the tower tonight, though his usual lazy confidence is nowhere to be seen. ...He looks awful. Twitchy and sunken-eyed, clothing even a little rumpled. His main goal is the kitchen, but he's restless enough to be found wandering a little bit of everywhere]

tabbytastic

[prepare yourselves, tower residents, for the most important and thought-provoking thing to ever drift across the pages of the grimoire. ...are you ready for this?]

Hey Freddy! [yep, barking over the journal for friends in the middle of the night is really a great idea. sorry, anyone who happens to have their books open right now] ...Freddy, you around?

[she takes a break to think, then. sittin' on the back of the couch, tapping the edge of the book on her chin. finally...]

Gabe. I'm bored.

[yep. she really needs a cell phone or something.]

slukhtis

[ The grimoire opens with a loud crash. Something falls and shatter violently, he doesn't know what, but something did. And he growls painfully, it's all he can do to stop himself from crying out--fuck it hurts. He's accustomed to pain, most of his known life has been full of it, but this? This is worse than anything he as encountered.

He reaches out for something, anything, only to feel himself fall and crash heavily onto the floor jarring his shoulder. It is dull in comparison. He considers dislocating it just to see what would hurt more. ]

Fucking--

[ A string of ancient words leave his mouth in a low pain filled slur. For the sake of his pride he tries not to groan, he tries but it comes out anyway, bouncing off the walls of his room. (It's safe, he thinks, they can't hear in. Little does he knows the damn book is wide open for all it hear). ]

It's dark, it's dark--why is it so fucking dar-- [ He's cut off by a sound, a pathetic sound. A cry of pain. It hurts. Dear Zeus it hurts. He can't see and it feels like someone poured acid into his fucking skull. ]

actionlaced

[It's evening and Euri has found a dive in the city in which to drown her sorrows.

(In beer, if that wasn't obvious.)

She's seated at the dingy bar, one mug empty and another well on its way to being drained of its precious, precious booze. Dog has stretched out lazily under her bar stool. The only other unusual thing of note is that aside from Euri, Dog and the owner the place is entirely empty.

... That might be because Euri ordered Dog to scare the other customers out about half an hour ago, but who knows!]

heresyandlace.livejournal.com

[the fact that the grimoire is open is the very farthest thing from his notice at the moment, so he doesn't even notice as it catches the sounds of his surprise. Bewildered and groggy at first... and then the confusion rapidly rises to alarm-- a gasp and confounded growl]

--What?! This can't... [and then the words quickly devolve into a slithery hiss of pure distress. The cursing in some breathy foreign tongue that follows is a little too quiet to be caught and clearly translated by the book, muffled even further by what sounds suspiciously like the flap of a set of massive wings]

[and anyone sensitive to such a thing might just pick up the feeling of death flaring from Tek's room on the fourth floor. Nothing unholy or particularly evil, just the element of death itself-- flickering and radiating in a frantic manner. ...Someone is not happy.]

actionlaced.livejournal.com

[Euri is in the library! Dog and Nirel are there too, but they've wandered off to go look at fairy tales or something more interesting than the section Euri is currently standing in front of.

The romance novel section.

She's got a little stack of books by her feet, and she's flipping through another one, skimming it for... something. She looks very determined!!]

Nothing in this one.... [She's mumbling to herself before putting the book back on the shelf. She'll run her finger over the spines as she starts reading book titles.]

"How to Woo a Reluctant Lady"? Hmmm... "Let Sleeping Rogues Lie"...."Detective John Sanders' Erotica Noir"??

adstringis.livejournal.com

[If you are in "the base" Robin oh-so-wonderfully obtained for this whole mercenary gig, your nostrils are now being invaded by two smells. One, the smell of freshly made buttermilk waffles. Two, the smell of fried chicken aw yeah.

Nishi has finished a batch and they're cooling off in a paper towel-lined strainer — gotta rip out any excess oils, y'know — and munching on a waffle & chicken sandwich. Weird? Maybe. Flipping delicious? You know it!

Feel free to come down and bother her. Oh, and of course mooch food off of her.]

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