[identity profile] kissmydamask.livejournal.com
Right, so I can't be the only one who's noticed that things are getting... a little out of hand, what with the scorch marks, the goo, the Quad pies, the random explosions, the monster dung, the cats --

I'm just going to pre-empt you all and ask what needs to be cleaned up.

- Garden Staff

By the way, can we stick to blowing up cakes and not the toilets? I'm serious, no one's going to be happy if I end up marking those out of bounds.

[Sounds like someone's jogging along the ceiling! Oh, but wait, that would be defying gravity -- oh, but wait, the Prince doesn't care about that.

Look up and receive a faceful of scarf:

> Yes
> No
> How about a falling Prince instead?

Careful, he's kind of heavy...]

(OOC: Thanks to the superpowers event, the Prince gets to reject gravity at will whenever he decides to go wallrunning/ceiling crawling/Spidermanning -- well, moreso than usual. Expect to see him abuse this at every given opportunity.

Please let me know if you'd rather avoid having the Prince falling on your character -- if it just makes things awkward and unfunny, then we can skip that. Also, he'll be making an extra effort not to crash down on any women. Menfolk, however, are in for it.

ALSO ALSO kids on detention, feel free to jump in and complain. He'll be calling on you for help :|b)
[identity profile] kissmydamask.livejournal.com

Hey Garden.

Guess what.

You're now trapped in the elevator.

Maybe you were too lazy to take the stairs; maybe you just needed to get somewhere and this was the quickest way from A to B, despite the janitor's warnings (and the signs on every floor).

Whatever the reason, it's too late! You're stuck in here. The lights are out, none of the buttons are working (or maybe they're jammed?), and it's unlikely you'd be able to pry open the doors — this elevator is one sturdy son of a gun, and between floors, there's nowhere to go.

Anyway... who's that with you?]

Cut for meme-speak! )
[identity profile] freewolfmoon.livejournal.com
[1: the training center; last night]
[In the middle of the training center there is a ghost. Only not really. Ghosts generally don't fight T-rexaurs or wield really huge swords.

After almost two weeks, on and off, of watching the adventures of others in the training center and occasionally taking on a few Grats, Fenris has decided to see just what its more monstrous inhabitants can really do. Curiosity may be his stated intent, but of course his motivation is as always as much to release some of his fury at the world he's been thrown into at a controlled burn as anything else. Unfortunately, he wasn't exactly counting on this...rather remarkable dragon-like thing. He's not completely outmatched, but it's a giant dinosaur, and all he has is his natural strength and his armor. He could probably use a little help.

He's trying not to look like he needs it, though. He fights ruthlessly and intensely, with perfectly controlled, powerful swings of the sword and low, flat-voiced oaths muttered in some foreign tongue. And then there's the matter of his ghostliness. He seems insubstantial despite the obvious power of his blows, shimmering nearly white and moving fleetly, ethereally through the undergrowth.]

[1: the library; this morning]
[The work given to him over his time here has been easy enough, and the compensation fair. Collect and sort trays and utensils in the cafeteria. Wash Garden's official vehicles (all right, so he's not entirely convinced those filthy metal things aren't some kind of armored monsters, but aside from that). Spend a night making sure monsters don't escape the training center. That sort of thing. Today's job: "More librarians than usual have the day off. Pick up the slack for them and put the books back into place."

Fenris was supposed to get this done early in the morning, before the library officially opened. It's now 0915 and he's still standing in front of one shelf, holding a stack of books and debating internally whether he could get away with sorting them by color and calling it a day. It's one thing to tell Hawke that he can't read, you see; it's quite another to admit it to the people in charge of Garden.

On the plus side, he's feeling too awkward to be properly filled with rage right now.]
[identity profile] ageaaquarius.livejournal.com
[Okay. Okay the last thing he did before being sent here? Shit. That's all in the past. Nothing happened. He didn't get his black advances rejected by Rose, and he didn't get his computer blown up. Except... he's probably going to flip a switch if someone brings it up. Yep.

Oh but uh... None of that happened.

Man. None of that happened. Everything's cool.

However. He's still completely confused about why he's even here in the first place. Interview wasn't too painful to endure, and neither was knowing that this is a military academy. Shit, that even makes it seem better.

Now he's just... aimlessly wandering around the lobby and the dorms, trying to not look like a confused idiot. It's really failing... really really hard. Flag him down and talk to him, he'd probably absolutely love it. If not? Well, he'll deal with it.
[identity profile] waylights.livejournal.com
OPTION 1: training centre

[ Elika is having fun keeping juuuust out of reach of a t-rexaur's massive teeth, dodging, rolling and flipping out of range, making it turn around and around in an effort to keep up with her. She dashes forward beneath its belly and whirls, vaulting over the sweep of its tail and onto its back. It tries to thrash her off, but she climbs, using its crest as handholds until she stands, balancing on the monster's head. Her fist glows briefly, before she brings it down with a swift crack--right between the exhausted creature's eyes.

Stunned, the beast goes down. Elika easily leaps off and tumbles into a crouch, watching the animal go crashing onto its side. No, it isn't dead, and she isn't going to kill it. Others are welcome to 'finish it off for her', if they so wish. ]

OPTION 2: quad

[ Sunday afternoon and Elika is enjoying the sunshine. Sitting on the steps, she has an acoustic guitar on her lap and is practising, a sheaf of scores lying next to her. She's not the most advanced, but she's far from terrible. She's at that particularly awkward intermediate level where she's good enough that people want to request things, but she isn't confident enough in her technique to try. Come bother her anyway? ]

[[ooc. just put your desired scenario in your subject line and we're good to go!]]
fierybluebird: (good old fashioned lover boy)
[personal profile] fierybluebird
Since we all come from various different backgrounds, I'm curious as to what everyone of age deems a good date?

Are there any cliches where you're from that you want to avoid? Or perhaps customs that are absolutely required? When you want to go formal, do you prefer big and splashy or something quiet and intimate? Of course generally it's best to tailor such a thing to the person you're dating, but what if they're not sure? Do you bring a gift, and what kind, or is that too over the top? Perhaps something from the heart is better.

Anyone got particular favorite date ideas they've been on or wish-dates to fulfill?

- Marco


Jul. 16th, 2011 08:44 am
[identity profile] kissmydamask.livejournal.com
Languages. I know you all speak them. Doesn't matter if you're using the translator or not, chances are you're speaking and writing in something.

I'm gonna need to know what that is, how well you do it, and if you can handle more than one.

This is just out of curiosity — no need to panic, unless you're the punk who left the Latin on the ceiling in the men's.

I'm onto you.

(OOC: No he's not. Feel free to attribute that graffiti to your character if it suits, though!

Also, Instructors/SeeDs/staff! This is your chance to bombard the Prince with clean-up requests. Don't worry if they seem small or insignificant, the Prince has a job to do and you're just ~*~helping him out~*~. The sillier, the better!)
[identity profile] greeneyedmecha.livejournal.com
[This is Rikku. Rikku's about as confused as you can get. She wanted to go to the Thunder Plains, not some crazy world with a military academy. She's a pickpocket/techie, not a merc!

...But there's lots of cool machina here, so if nothing else, maybe she can study this stuff, get some plans drawn up, and take them with her when she goes home.

For now, though, she's just sort of sitting in the quad, under a tree, watching all the people go by and trying not to look terrified. How well that's working depends on how observant you are.

Also? She's still in her bikini.]

[[ooc: if I have done anything wrong, please tell me XD;; most tags will be coming after I deal with my father and grandfather today.]]
[identity profile] lassiedyne.livejournal.com
[There is a dog loose in the Garden.

A two foot high at the shoulder, white-and-silver dog with red eyes, to be specific. And he is currently snuffling around the directory board with a rather puzzled expression on his face and a ball held firmly in his mouth.

He keeps his nose pointed right at the ground as he continues to move around, sniffing the whole way...Although, he is slowly beginning to drift towards the cafeteria, with a tail slowly twitching into full wagging mode.]

((OOC: The shiba inu is roaming around the Garden! So if you want to meet him elsewhere, just put it in the subject header.))


witchesreign: (Default)
Witches Reign

May 2014

11 121314151617


Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags