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capeandcowllogs2010-03-15 02:35 am
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I'm the wanderer, they call my the wanderer [open]
Who: Delirium and YOU!
What: Delirium tends to go into houses, whether she's been invited or not.
Where: Various Places
When: Various Times through out the week
Warnings: It's Delirium, apply caution where necessary.
Format: Para that will no doubt quickly deteriorate into quick para
Alternatively: you choose.
Delirium was wandering.
It was something of a constant state for her these days, so much so that she had developed something of her own "patrol area". The only real problem was that sometimes (or most of the time) she forgot where it was and just sort of walked and walked and walked until she found the right door. The door was really the most important thing.
It was all about finding the right one and having the keys to open it. Delirium had the keys to the City and when she couldn't find them, she simply made her own door. Of course, she was always very good about closing them afterwards.
It wouldn't be polite to leave a door hanging open in someone's laundry room after all.
[ooc:How this breaks down-
Subject line a place and a time. Doesn't matter where or when.
Mark open or closed if you're interested in having thread jumpers.
Tag yourself.
Feel free to thread jump into other open threads.]
What: Delirium tends to go into houses, whether she's been invited or not.
Where: Various Places
When: Various Times through out the week
Warnings: It's Delirium, apply caution where necessary.
Format: Para that will no doubt quickly deteriorate into quick para
Alternatively: you choose.
Delirium was wandering.
It was something of a constant state for her these days, so much so that she had developed something of her own "patrol area". The only real problem was that sometimes (or most of the time) she forgot where it was and just sort of walked and walked and walked until she found the right door. The door was really the most important thing.
It was all about finding the right one and having the keys to open it. Delirium had the keys to the City and when she couldn't find them, she simply made her own door. Of course, she was always very good about closing them afterwards.
It wouldn't be polite to leave a door hanging open in someone's laundry room after all.
[ooc:How this breaks down-
Subject line a place and a time. Doesn't matter where or when.
Mark open or closed if you're interested in having thread jumpers.
Tag yourself.
Feel free to thread jump into other open threads.]
Rachel's new apartment (empty) [closed]
It was kinda cool. And empty. Really, really, empty. Kinda spooky, actually.
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"Oh! That's where you were!" she said brightly, almost instantly in Rachel's personal space, "Hello! I couldn't find you!"
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Rachel jumped and spun around. Holy crap she's close!
"Del?"
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"Hi!"
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avengers tower? (closed)
He settled into his desk chair, rubbing his knuckles, then his temple.
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"Hello! Did you hurt yourself?"
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After a moment, he stood, allowing himself to approach her, ignoring her question. "How are you?"
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"People ask me that all the time, but I never really know the answer," she said, forgetting that this was probably the same thing she said to him the last time he asked. But after a pause and deliberately checking, she added, "I'm mostly okay, I think."
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He is in the reflection of some stranger's apartment window. [open]
Right now, Evan is bored, things aren't that interesting and he's starting to fall back into reality. Which is bad. So he's been
creepingwandering around from mirror to window to virtually any reflective surface just observing the people of the City. That means you, Delirium. And he is quite amused.no subject
She shuts the door firmly behind her and turns to peer at the man. "Hello! Who are you?"
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"How the bleedin' hell did you do that?" he jumps back, startled, hitting his elbow against a mirror and thus, shattering it.
Soup appears. Seven bowls of it. Evan curses.
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Delirium is more preoccupied with the soup even as she asks, scooping up a bowl and sipping from one. "This is really good!"
Vector's room at Autobase - Evening
The balcony's view did not compare to the view he had when out of dimensions, when he could see the very fabric of spacetime and could see the threads and currents that made up the individual universal streams. But that was a rather impossible view, at present - could this form even handle it, even if he could step out of the world so easily?
This was not that. But this was what he had, at present, and he was making do with it.
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"It's pretty, don't you think?"
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"It is," he agreed, resting his hands upon the balcony. "Different, but pretty."
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"You're from the place where everybody's a machine, huh? Except you're different."
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MONDAY//WARRIOR'S BAR(BASEMENT)//CLOSED
So there he was, pleasantly secluded, surrounded by his work and free to set his own pace, virtually undisturbed for a large portion of the day. The other Lanterns had their own ways of keeping busy (or not busy at all, as far as the Clarissi was concerned), and, as there was no mass panic to deal with, it was acceptible. The massive stacks of folders and papers he'd acrued in his earliest information-gathering weeks were starting to diminish; with his Lantern abilities mostly in tact sans ring, all he needed to do was fill that unseen databases manually. It was tedious work, to be certain, but it kept him busy, and a busy Salaak was a content Salaak.
Three of his four communicators floated idly in green halos just in eyeshot as his attention focused on one, transcribing the information he'd received form several sources to his own database. Good, good. He was making a very good dent in the pileup today.
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She plopped down, crosslegged next to him, suspended a good three feet or so off the ground, watching him work for a few minutes before she piped up in his language, "If you grow a fifth arm, will you get another one?"
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Well, that was then.
Human sensitivities were not Slyggian sensitivities, so when a whisp of strangely-colored hair passed into his peripheral, he glanced idly once, then outright swivelled in his chair with a loud cry. The communicators lost their halos and clattered to the floor. Instinctively, his lower arm fist pointed right between her eyes.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
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Nazi Mansion / Late Night
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"What are you making?" she asked after a while.
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Sally's room/ Tuesday night; [Closed]
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"Oh! Hello! I found the end of it!"
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"Um..." Where did she just... "The end of what?"
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