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08 March 2008 @ 12:13 am
cycle 001  
[Have a very startled redhead in a seifuku!]

What is this, I wonder, I wonder? It's cu~te... But it's not home. How did I get here?

[She takes a few steps, as if she's uncertain if the ground will hold her--understandable, given it doesn't look any different from the sky--and then stops and brings her hands up to cup them around her mouth to amplify her voice.]

Hello? Is anyone else here?
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08 March 2008 @ 04:25 pm
 
{Robespierre appears on the Astral Plane, giving the sudden change in surroundings slightly more attention than the book in his hands. For most, he seems especially out of place, wearing fine and stylish clothes---circa 1740. He does not seem surprised by the stars all around, but certainly interested.}

...A never-ending night sky? How magnificent.

{He closes the book and puts it securely under his arm as he merely starts to look at the stars quietly.}
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08 March 2008 @ 06:01 pm
 
[ Yuyuko appears with little fanfare, covered in ofuda papers. She plops herself down with a pout and goes about attempting to yank a particularly stubborn piece off of her forehead. ]
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08 March 2008 @ 06:09 pm
〔 t w o 〕  
[ Appearing on the plane suddenly, in a simple attire for once, hands clenched tightly. Her expression was entirely blank save for the frigid look in her eyes, breathing in, then out, slowly but surely. ]


Some things, they never change no matter what the race. It's any wonder anything can be done at all.

[ After closing her eyes just long enough to breath in deep does she open them again does she sit down, face cradled in her hands, mumbling to herself. ]

I should not have lost my temper in such a way.
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08 March 2008 @ 10:26 pm
 
[Two men appear sliding along the 'floor' of the Astral Plane, one clad in black and the other in red. They look like they're hugging each other as they rolled for a few more feet then come to a stop, their wake marred with bits of stone, wood, and the strong smell of gunpowder. The priest in black ends up on the bottom and lays there sucking in air, a cigarette still some how managing to stay glued to the corner of his mouth.]

"Th' fuck!"
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