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knightsoflegend2014-06-28 08:45 pm
wynn) wrote in knightsoflegend2014-06-28 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
- abigail hobbs,
- adam weiss,
- adi laskaris,
- aedan cousland,
- alanna,
- alaric saltzman,
- allison argent,
- andrew dennis-gatewood,
- attica arakhan,
- bambi dalton,
- bo dennis-gatewood,
- brantley river,
- buffy summers,
- chris ramirez,
- christos la krail,
- damon salvatore,
- dawn summers,
- dean winchester,
- desmond d. descant,
- dovan ironsides,
- elena gilbert,
- ella cailte,
- erica reyes,
- faith lehane,
- faith o'keefe,
- felicity braddock,
- finnick odair,
- francesca,
- frankie matera,
- gregor hughes,
- gus harrison,
- han solo,
- helen magnus,
- jack chessing,
- jackson whittemore,
- jaime lannister,
- jaina solo,
- jameson bennett,
- jeanne gar,
- kat samcelot,
- kate beckett,
- kate bishop,
- kenzi,
- killian jones,
- klaus mikaelson,
- leia organa,
- lila zacharov-gray,
- lis'sa trinall,
- lissa dragomir,
- lydia martin,
- marcus andres,
- maxwell briggard,
- myrilandel odair,
- quinn o'connor,
- rafael giovanni,
- rebekah mikaelson,
- rose hathaway,
- sean cassidy,
- spike,
- sterling archer,
- stiles stilinski,
- sven van tlo,
- sven van tol,
- sydney bristow,
- sylar zacharov-gray,
- taradiddle gezuntheit,
- tia ellison,
- val'drin cabot,
- violet reedhym,
- will graham,
- wynnefalshond
open ♔ june/july castle socialization
WHO || Everyone! [ota]
WHAT || Shenanigans.
WHERE || Anywhere in the castle, surrounding environs, London, etc!
WHEN || Any time after June 7th
HOW || Actionspam
[ The castle can be a happening place, even on more mundane days. This log is for random interactions over the course of these few months. Because not everyone is into parties, ok.
You are encouraged to start your own threads and tag around, and feel free to threadjack into any on-going threads that aren't specified as 'closed' in the subject lines since people can enter into rooms even in the middle of what's going on. WE ARE BIG ON THREAD-JACKING HERE. You can also specify 'single thread', meaning you want only one response for all participants, rather than multi-thread, where a number of different scenes/threads can be done as replies to the top prompt.]
On this log:
Rafael, Buffy, Des & Wynn | Closed
Frankie & Lis'sa | Closed
Taradiddle @ the desk
Lydia @ the desk
Abigail @ the desk
Adam @ the desk
Bambi @ the desk
Rebekah @ the desk
Dawn @ the desk
Adi @ the desk
Stiles @ the desk
Felicity @ the desk
Will @ the desk
Han @ the garage
Ric @ the bars. all of them. also dragon's hoard lab.
Team NYC | Closed
Lila @ the kitchen/castle grounds
Kate B. @ castle grounds / training room
Aedan @ training / woods / common areas
Frankie @ front desk / garage / various
Maxwell @ rec room / training room / castle bar / forest
Will @ firing range / pond / castle grounds
Sven @ the woods
Adam @ library / firing range / London
Jaime @ castle tavern / training room / stables
Hook @ castle grounds / bar
Jack & Christos @ the training room
Damon @ the castle bar / castle grounds / woods / London / library
Sean @ castle ground / jumping out a window
Des @ the woods
Kate @ training / shooting range / castle grounds
Vi @ her room / bathrooms / pantry / dragon's light wing / firing range
Francesca @ training room / bar
Francesca & Val'drin | Closed
Kenzi @ training room
Lila & Bambi | Closed
Spike @ training room
Lissa @ foyer / Dragon's light wing / garden
Andrew @ his birthday!
Buffy @ Rafael's room / firing range / training room / dining hall
Francesca, Will, & Max | Closed
Faith @ Kitchen / London bars
Abigail & Will | Closed
Des | Dragon's Light wing
Jackson | Train station / training room / garage
Klaus | Bar / garden
no subject
That's it — You know, if you don't know how something works, maybe you could just ask instead of poking it with your swords! It's not a complicated concept, you just —
[ She's gesturing widely with her hands when she passes a Hummer, reaching the Porsche that Jackson is destroying and skidding to a stop. The pleasant click of her heels that had filled the echoing, spacious garage stops abruptly and the silence that stretches in its place is suffocating.
The keys slip out of her hands and clatter to the ground with a jingling, metal noise.
Words fail her. Her vocal chords simply won't make a sound because she's paralyzed by knowing full and well that if she asks if it's him, if it's really him, if he's here — if she even says his name — she runs the risk that the Veil has stolen it all from him and he has no idea, just like Stiles would have no idea if Scott were the one in the garage like this. She doesn't think she could take that. ]
no subject
He'd asked a few people about Beacon Hills. Nobody had heard of it, which isn't surprising. The fact that he can't remember who he got on the plane with, that's an issue that seems way more present. Part of him had been starting to think maybe he was on his own— which was fine, right? He'd left. That had been the whole point.
Meaning this is the absolute last thing he's expecting, and it shows. The startled expression gives way to something that's more like genuine shock, and he speaks before he can think better of it, barely audible over the blaring alarm. ] Lydia?
no subject
Against her better judgment, relief washes over her in a wave and she shuts her eyes, exhaling a breath without ever realizing she’d been holding it. Her heart flutters in her chest and she hates it. She hates that he makes her like this because he’d just left. After all of that, he’d done it as coolly as anything else. Broken it off and left like it had never hurt him at all.
She should hate him, but instead she can only be impotently furious with herself for letting it get to her. ]
Jackson?
[ Her voice is careful not to get too pitchy, but it still lilts on the name. Right. Inhale. Shoulders straight. She gets sharp instead of vulnerable. ]
What are you doing in here?
[ She marches over to yank the door handle from him. ]
If you want to use a car, you come get keys from the front desk. We check them out so we can keep track of who is doing this, [ she raises the handle, ] To the vehicles.
no subject
She isn't acting like that never happened, exactly, but she is acting strange, blowing right past the reunion in order to... what, berate him about a stupid car? He just watches as she grabs the handle, following her pointed gesture before meeting her eyes.
There are a lot of things going on, here. The sense of relief is probably the most acute, but it's violently ignored in favor of looking confused. ] How the hell should I know? I was trying to get away from this.
[ NOT THE QUESTION but the door handle is the universe's fault, he shouldn't even be here. But she's talking about the garage and the cars, not the rest of it, so a beat later: ] Are you working?
[ Desk, check out, "we". Sounds a lot like a job. Why talk about the fact that he thought he'd never see her again when he can deflect with petty observations, right. ]
no subject
Yes, I’m working. What does it look like?
[ She moves to pick up the ring of keys off the ground in a huff because yeah she’ll need those back. ]
Is that what London was about? You left so you could get away from the bite that you asked for?
[ Truthfully, she wouldn’t be surprised. It was more than any of them bargained for, and they still hadn’t found Erica and Boyd. At least Jackson was gone instead of kidnapped. Small comfort. Suddenly, she holds up a hand to stop him from responding. ]
I don't wanna know. [ She squares her shoulders, trying to school some serenity back into her composure. ] I don't care. [ He left. She was supposed to stop caring when he left. ]
no subject
Luckily, he doesn't have to. While some part of him appreciates the out, he shoots her an intensely unimpressed look at the declaration that she doesn't care.
That's his line. Except he's so insanely out of his depth right now that he can't even muster the composure to say as much and sound like he means it, and the fact that she's here and apparently already entered the workforce seems more pressing, anyway. Which is... the question's supposed to be "how long has she been here", except he just left her in Beacon Hills. ]
Why are you here? [ He got on a damn plane. There's logic to that, getting on a plane in one place and ending up in another. The less traditional aspects of veil travel are still kind of a WIP. ]
no subject
[ Her lips press together and she nods, visibly peeved, and throws her hands out to her sides. Why not? She’s been here, what, two months? And now Jackson shows up, and suddenly she’s the one that doesn’t belong. That’s hindering his knighthood experience. She takes a deep breath, huffing it out. ]
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because my alternative was the backwater farm town that I came through the Veil in. In Wales.
[ She squints a little as she narrows her glare at him. ]
It’s not like I chose to come through the Veil, okay? And maybe if you'd actually text me once in a while, you would have known I was gone.
no subject
[ Or maybe he said he wouldn't text. It's hazy. It's also a totally dick move. Hazy memories or not, there's nothing funny about the memory of their last conversation; it's just that making light of it's easier than the alternative, and the delivery sounds slightly petty and dismissive.
There's so much here that bears comment that Jackson has no idea where to start. Farm town in Wales isn't exactly the most important part, but it's the one that ends up winning out. ]
They found you in a barn? [ That isn't funny. It's actually mildly concerning, but it's almost impossible to imagine Lydia in a barn, period. The skeptical way he echoes it back to her probably doesn't give it the weight it deserves. ]
no subject
[ Bringing up how she’d come into this world isn’t something that improves her mood, either. One great big nail in the banshee coffin—and, worse, traumatizing even without that component. She sneers. ]
With about a half-dozen dead bodies that they took me to jail for. If I weren’t here, I would be reliving last year. [ Her hands gesture out widely at her sides like yeah because that was so fun. ] As the town psychopath. That, Jackson, is why I’m here.
no subject
He laughs anyway, of course. It's short and he muffles it with a fist, but the disbelieving grin's still obvious. ] With a castle full of psychopaths. Big improvement.
[ Says the guy who's... also in the castle... changing the subject. Except in the interest of changing the subject quickly, he goes with an impulsive question that he regrets almost immediately. ] That means you're staying here too, right? You're not just... commuting.
[ Commuting to a castle, as you do. He seems to realize it's a slightly stupid question, but that's not what he regrets; it's the fact that the question itself shows an obvious interest in whether or not she'll be close by. ]
no subject
That injury undeniably contributes to her snippy reply. ]
No, I’m taking the tour, that’s why I know where they keep the car keys.
[ Good one, brain trust. It’s a stark difference, chewing him out for his observational skills rather than the carefully acted idiocy she’d cultivated for the majority of their relationship. #Characterdevelopment?? ]
no subject
His expression softens slightly, and there's a heavy pause while his eyes search hers— it's fleeting, a few seconds at most, and it's more of a deliberate choice to hold his tongue than any loss for words. ]
How long have you been here?
[ No trace of the accusatory, mocking tone of the other questions. He's not asking because he's trying to one-up her— he's asking because he's trying to figure out how long she's been here (on her own?), what else he's missed out on. ]
no subject
Since May. [ She looks back up at him, eyes wide and open and trying so hard not to give him anything he can use against her. ] Two months.
[ It kills her. And it infuriates her that it kills her because she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t let it keep digging at her that he’d left, that she’d loved him, that she’d let him hurt her again at all. But no matter what she does, the pattern feels inevitable to fall into. ]
no subject
That's not what he's going for, here. Even when it was, he regretted it; there's no vindictiveness to mute that regret, now, but there's also a distance that means reaching out and making up for isn't an option.
He glances away, a brief gesture that's as much about taking the pressure off of her as it is about his inability to meet her gaze. ] So you don't know how to go back. [ It's an inherently defeatist observation, but he says it evenly, like he's just committing it to memory. His eyes meet hers again before he continues, voice taking on a more focused edge, just shy of aggressive. ] Is anyone else here?
no subject
Stiles.
[ Her tone of voice isn’t flattering of the name. Whatever he means to her either hasn’t sunken in yet, or hasn’t really occurred to her yet because she’s had no cause to confront it—only the opportunity to find comfort that even he was there with her. ]
There is no way back. This has been going on for — for centuries. Probably more than that.
[ She shakes her head, focusing on the dispensing of information rather than how she feels about that. About never seeing Allison again, or even Scott. ]
We’re stuck. All of us.
no subject
[ Building on that aggression, though it isn't directed at her. It's almost off-hand, and the tone's probably familiar. Of course he's stuck here; he can't even move to London without shit going off the rails.
It may not be directed at her, but that doesn't mean he's gotten any better at putting a lid on his temper. The opposite, actually— he can feel it in the itching at his fingertips, and he finds himself vaguely wondering whether or not his eyes have changed.
They haven't. The thought's enough for him to realize he needs to be elsewhere, though, and the next comment comes out sounding more petty and personal than he really means it to. ] Is that it? Are we done?
no subject
He’d loved her when he’d broken up with her and he’d loved her when he’d blamed her for everything that was happening to him and he’d loved her through all of it but it hadn’t stopped him or changed anything.
And yet she still has to suck in a breath to steady herself and maintain composure as he snaps at her, even if she knows rationally that he’s only lashing out at whatever’s around. She’s around.
It’s easy to fall back into old habits, old methods of dealing. Anger quickly replaces the hurt. ]
Oh, we’re done.
[ Her tone takes on a biting edge that makes it clear she’s not talking about right now but almost as if she’s trying to break up with him again after they are
already broken up. ]