Credits & Style Info

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WHERE: (Where the post takes place)
WHEN: (When the post takes place)
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onesyllable

WHO: Joshua Faraday
WHERE: Hot spring, around the south village, north village at the house and barn
WHEN: Throughout March
OPEN TO: ota
WARNINGS: cw for alcoholism and over indulging in alcohol

( I'm drowning in myself )

spoileralert

WHO: Stephanie Brown
WHERE: Various Outdoors
WHEN: After Take Two Part 1
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None anticipated

The first thing Steph does when she gets home is take a long, hot shower. Definitely top priority. The second thing she does is head down into the bunker. She’s heard about people using the vending machine and nothing terrible seemed to happen as a result. She deserves a treat, she figures, and she knows exactly what power she wants.

She waits until she’s out in the open again to try it out, and isn’t disappointed. She’s small, yes, but whatever she is, she has wings.

HOUSES

established cr

One of the advantages to being small is that you attract less attention. The same holds true for being a bird. As a robin she can glide into her friend’s houses, moving quickly and then staying still to be sure she wasn’t noticed. From there she has all sorts of fun options. She can perch on top of refrigerators, swoop down and startle someone, or steal food when they aren’t looking. A little more difficult is moving small objects around, but that’s just as fun.

Her favorite, though, is waiting until the person is distracted and landing in their hair. With hollow bones and proper timing they might never notice she’s there.

WOODS

OTA

Being a bird isn't all sunshine and rainbows, of course, and not just because it's early March. Her first real, open-air flight comes to an inelegant end as, failing to out-maneuver a hawk, she changes suddenly back to human shape to foil the poor creature.

She falls with a yelp into the foliage below.

VILLAGES

OTA

When she tires of flying and trolling her friends (which takes a good while, to be sure) Steph decides to wander around both villages, gaining an appreciation of what everything looks like when you're a small handful of inches tall. She also takes the opportunity to unnerve people as much as possible.

Getting some food from the inn? Did you notice that there's a bird on top of the fridge, or the ceiling lamp in the common area?

Sitting outside to soak up what sun there is? Don't look now, but a bird's joined you on the bench, and it looks like it's bird-watching too.

Or maybe you're just going about your business, in the dojo, one of the farms, even the library. Wherever you are, a small bird has taken great interest in your doings.

quinientos

WHO: Vasquez
WHERE: South Village, River
WHEN: February 7
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: n/a

If anyone had seen Vasquez when he'd been a wolf, it's only poetic justice that all of this is happening to him now.

Where before, he'd been the one to roam wild, not he's the one running. He'd opened the box in the north village, but almost instantly, the dog had been spooked by the kirin and had taken off, running and yipping (and probably terrified down to his little bones). He'd had a terrible moment of debating whether he should go after it before deciding that there were too many cruel things living in the shadows and no animal should be left to that.

Of course, what he didn't count on was how much of a fool he was going to look chasing after it, whistling after an animal that didn't even have a name. It's a good looking animal, one that he's seen herd sheep before, but running away like this means now Vasquez is the shepherd. He's already run back to the south village from the north and he looks it, panting and coughing (he really wants a smoke, too, but it's not the time).

He sees his chance when the animal is lapping up water at the stream. Chest heaving, he begins to creep up on it, ready to take his chance. He hunches over and tries to get all six-foot-four of him as close to the ground as he can, advancing until he's nearly on his knees. He readies himself, like a coil, and waits to spring forward.

Of course, his little dog decides he's all done with drinking, bounding away with a yip, right as Vasquez goes face-down into the stream, muttering and cursing. Sitting back, he swipes at his face and spits to the side, cursing in Spanish as he glares at the dog.

"You know, I could feed you to the kirin," he warns, even as the animal comes licking his cheek, like he's rubbing Vasquez's face in his idiocy. "Or the boar. Or any of the other animals."

sixthiteration

WHERE: Inari Shrine and elsewhere
WHEN: 25 January 2019 through ?
OPEN TO: All opted in characters
WARNINGS: Please warn in the subject line of your comment as needed, and remember to move anything turning adult to a new post.
IMPORTANT NOTES: Final reminders and informational links are here. Please label all top-levels clearly so that there is no confusion who they are open to and what they are for, and DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR TAG!
Have fun and ask questions here!

onesyllable

WHO: Faraday
WHERE: North Village, house
WHEN: 1/20
OPEN TO: Vasquez
WARNINGS: Will updated as needed

( Taking advantages where they're given )

clouded_heart

WHO: Foggy Nelson
WHERE: South Village Inn
WHEN: Jan 10th ish
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: None at present

Text post
UN: haventthe

Hey people, Foggy here. I got a couple of those boxes that seem to happen to people and while it's addressed to me, I get the feeling that it's meant for the collective. I've got a bunch of woodworking tools here, including chisels, files, a saw and a hand drill with drill bits.

I'm taking this a hint that they approved of my amateur forays into carpentry and want that to continue, but I want to make sure everyone knows they're welcome to use them. For now, I'm keeping everything at the South Inn, but maybe we can set up one of the houses, or the mill as a workshop at some point.

Even had an idea for making paper from the sawdust and shavings. That's probably going to need experimentation though.

South Village Inn

True to his word, Foggy has set up in the large front room. He's moved a table to a far corner and he's set out the tools, checking them over to see if they're all fine. He does know all these tools, he did high school wood working, but it's been a while.

A long while.

But the main reason for sitting here is so that it's apparent he is here, and the tools are here, and they can work something out for making useful things and teaching people to make useful things.

onesyllable

WHO: Joshua Faraday, Vasquez, Open
WHERE: Around the villages
WHEN: Niddle of December
OPEN TO: All unless marked
WARNINGS: PG, updated as needed

( Don't worry about what you don't know )

quinientos

WHO: Vasquez
WHERE: The Woods
WHEN: November 27 - December 2
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Animal Transformation

What Great Fur You Have

After he'd healed from his illness, Vasquez probably should have been more thankful for his good health.

Instead, he's quickly remembered all the secrets about himself that he had given up. He remembered confessing about his fears, showing his weakness, and worse, he thinks he remembers telling Faraday things that he'd vowed to keep inside. For sure, he shouldn't have told him how Rose Creek had ended, because thinking about that gory conclusion wasn't good for anyone. When he'd healed, he'd marched himself down to that bunker where it had a machine for powers and he did what any cowardly man who never took responsibility for anything or anyone would do.

He turned himself into a wolf and went out into the wilderness, knowing that so long as he was an animal, he wouldn't have to talk about any feelings.

Unfortunately, it also means that you don't get to eat so easy and raw venison is not something Vasquez likes, which is why there's a wolf sitting outside of a house, making whining sounds and pawing at the window, pleading for whatever food is inside. He's not eating raw meat, not unless he absolutely has to, and he didn't even do that when he'd been half-starving in a dead man's cabin.

Human Skin

Eventually, he knows that this transformation won't last forever. When he'd gone to the machine, it had said a week, and counting the days, Vasquez knows that his time is quickly coming up. Of course, he didn't exactly plan it completely, because when the week is up, he's nowhere near the clothes he'd hidden, which leaves him standing near the outskirts of the south village (more in it than out), hands over his personal area, cheeks flush with red.

This is definitely not how he had intended to end this, and he knows that getting all the way back to the house isn't an option. Even stealing something isn't such a good idea, because he doesn't want to burst into anyone's house like this.

They might get the wrong idea.

So, it looks like a kind gesture is all that's going to save Vasquez, and a little humiliation until then. "Morning," he greets the nearest person with a smile, fucking freezing. "Maybe, I don't know, you have a jacket you can give me? I think it would be best for everyone if I could get some clothes."

cryptoherpetology

WHO: (Who is making the post)
WHERE: The house Alex shares with Bull & Dorian, greenhouse, police station
WHEN: Backdated to November 1-13
OPEN TO: Previous CR for the first, everything else is OTA
WARNINGS: Talk of mortality, literally dirty scenes involving agriculture

i. Who Lives Who Dies, etc etc.

The majority of Alex's notes may not be in bound notebooks, but he does his best to keep them as organized as possible. A few times, as he's tied piles of loose leaves together with scavenged twine, he's wondered if he might have to switch to actual scrolls.

It's something more personal than his attempts at writing a field guide that has him up in the light of a few flickering candles at the shared house's kitchen table.

Not having the mice means getting used to writer's cramp, and believe me, I'm all too aware that a personal journal might seem like a waste of time and supplies, but it's all too possible that I'm going to die here. I don't want to die, and I'm going to do my best not to die, but I feel better about traipsing out into alien wilderness without a gun knowing there will at least be some hard-copy record of my existence.

I'm realizing how much I'd been depending on the Aeslin. The sentient mice my family's been keeping safe for generations serve as our "black boxes," so to speak. They worship us (the family, that is) as gods. It means a perfect oral history of our family going back to the ancestors who originally found them. It also means a lot of rodent song-and-dance routines in the living room, not always at the most convenient hours.

Speaking of my family- Grandma Alice, if you're reading this, for the love of God, no matter how embarrassingly or painfully I died, tell Shelby it wasn't bad. And tell Antimony it was cool. I don't need to be mocked across dimensions and from beyond the grave.

He rubs at his wrist. He really wasn't making it up about the writer's cramp. So he adds one last line before sealing up his bottle of ink.

I miss you, Shelby.

ii. Green & Growing Things

Plants were not exactly Alex's wheelhouse, but he'd picked up enough of his mother's advice about herbal remedies to almost know what he's doing in the greenhouse. But he also knows that almost is still there, so for now, all he's doing is idly strolling between the different plants, and doing his best to match them to the illustrations in one of the books he's borrowed from the greenhouse.

Today's exciting task? Identifying anything he might be able to use to start developing some anti-parasitic treatment for the livestock in the event it's needed.

iii Where the Really Goddamned Wild Things Are

"It really makes me wonder if some of these species have been selectively bred before-"

He's thinking out loud again. Having either the Aeslin Mice or actual lab assistants has lead to this being something of a habit. "I'm not sure the climate here is cold enough to warrant this much heat retention in their wool. Sheep and alpacas back on earth are the result of countless generations of selective breeding. What about you, huh buddy?"

Yep. He's talking to a zalpaca while he calmly mucks out the jailhouse stall. As you do.

onesyllable

WHO: Joshua Faraday
WHERE: Fountain. North Village. South Village Inn
WHEN: Middle of November
OPEN TO: Vasquez, All
WARNINGS: Will update if needed

( While a full moon says a prayer for me )

unraisehell

WHO: Wynonna Earp
WHERE: Various
WHEN: November 1-14
OPEN TO: Everyone. HMU on plurk or discord if you want a character-specific prompt added.
WARNINGS: Swearing inevitably I'm sure. Zoom seed use and allusions to real drug use.

Zoom's Revenge

"I should have known better," Wynonna groans miserably into the surface of one of the inn's wooden tables. The zoom seeds had been fun at first. She'd gotten so much done! Checked snare traps, brought some kills to the kitchen, delivered a bunch of now-mostly-dry firewood around the village, and had the most amazing morning jog of her life.

"I hate uppers. And I hate this so much."

She has yet to pry her cheek off the table.

"Never. Again."

It Followed Me Home

"No. No, I'm not feeding you. Stop looking at me like that. Shoo! I'm not your mommy- believe me, you do not want me as a mom. Go back to the other little river monsters."

The young crocodile dog has been following her for the past hour, and none of her attempts at scary motions, loud noises or other things she's used to working with strays. It had mistaken food she'd left in stealing distance for her feeding it, and she has thus far been totally incapable of convincing it that she's not a good choice of human. She's started to try reasoning with it, on the off chance these things are just pretending to be this stupid.

Cold Wet Interdimensional Autumn

It's cold out. But the hot springs are still hot, and worth seeking out, especially since her shoulder's still recovering from the dislocation Beverly had hooked her up with. She'd pushed herself too hard while using the zoom seeds, having felt freaking invincible while moving that fast.

She's got herself submerged up to the chin, and, thinking she's alone in this weather, singing to herself. Okay, "singing." But at least she remembers at least half of the lyrics! Look, Bitch Better Have My Money has a lot of lyrics, ok?

"Something something something- your wife in the backseat of my brand new foreign car-"

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with m7: joshua faraday

Credits & Style Info

I'm drowning in myself

[open] This is all we got now, scream until your heart stops

HOUSES

WOODS

VILLAGES

dog days are only starting

[MINGLE] One-Man Show

(no subject)

A village gift (Text post AND log) OTA

Sink or swim you gotta give it a whirl

howling in the hills

Fairy Tale Stories and Autumn Rings

A whiskey bottle comforts me and tells me not to cry

If I Have to Fall Then It Won't Be In Your Line