pomme de terre

Torn Across the Rift

@Eyeris Posted! :D

Torn Across the Rift

Gemma was just as surprised as Zesiro at Twain’s abrupt change of plans. Her arm burned and her head pounded as she piled napkins on the table to mop up the mess. There was no doubt that something out of the ordinary was happening just north (northeast?) of town. The site couldn’t be far at all, definitely within driving distance, but they had a mission, didn’t they? No matter how big this whole… situation ended up being, MOON came first.

But the feeling burned bright, fading slowly, if at all. This was big. She flexed her hand and focused on the magnetic field, really trying to determine where the feeling was coming from. It wasn’t terribly important; the place held steady like true north, but she’d been putting off figuring out her compass. Now was as good a time as any.

Once she had, and the mess had been mopped up with plenty of apologizing on her part (she hoped they understood; she didn’t speak a word of Russian), they left the place, heading for the van. Icarus followed closely behind Gemma, but she was feeling better—at least, until she stepped outside, where the brightness stung her eyes and aggravated her headache. The wind buffeted her and froze every inch of her exposed skin and she cursed the Russian weather.

Once in the van, she gave Twain a direction and they were off. Maybe he thought that this could have some connection to MOON’s disappearance. She couldn’t imagine what made him think that, but she trusted him to know what he was doing. The man was rife with hidden talents, and something as simple as intuition could mean the difference between success and failure in a seemingly dead-end mission like this one.

It felt dead-end, anyway. All they had were photographs of the team and a goal—every step in between was still a mystery. “So why Russia?” Gemma asked, when she got Helena’s picture. The girl was from an English-speaking country, if her diploma was anything to go by. “What was a girl like her doing here? Was she running?” Running from TRIDENT would be unlikely; Gemma herself had never even heard about the organization when they approached her. They had had a file on her, too. “Or did she disappear?”

A pulse of something dark made her skin crawl, and Gemma looked out the window. Smoke was rising from a mountain not too far into the distance, thick, black smoke that stood stark against the white sky and the snow. That was the source. Her stomach sank. Like a white hole, the place was vomiting particles and energy, sitting on the edge of her attention. “That’s the place,” she said. They’d be there soon, at the pace that Twain was going.

She looked back at the picture of Helena, and then at the four pictures of the members of MOON, all piled up on the center console in front of her. She never liked trusting her intuition—she was a scientist, after all—but something about this whole situation begged for a connection. Inexplicable, paranormal events like the things TRIDENT studied were few and far between, after all, and to have three (if you counted Helena’s likely disappearance) events happening in just as many months in the same city was nigh unheard of. Unless there was a connection.

Gemma tossed the photo she was holding onto the console to sit with the rest of them. Hopefully Twain would have an answer. If not, the only thing to do would be to wait until they could take a look at whatever they’d be facing on the mountaintop.

Torn Across the Rift

Hey! Sorry i'm so super late. Will be getting a post up there tonight!

Torn Across the Rift

Same here! Busy Saturday. Will definitely post tomorrow!!!

All The World's A Stage (Shakespeare Modern AU)

@Polyphemus ayyyyyy! ^_____^

All The World's A Stage (Shakespeare Modern AU)

ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE

The town of Stratford-upon-Avon could not have asked for more beautiful weather for the annual Midsummer Festival. The sun was just drawing up on the horizon, painting the cloudless sky with brilliant pinks and oranges, when families began the yearly march to the town square for the night’s entertainment. Stratford didn’t have many terribly outstanding qualities (besides the river walk, which was second-to-none amongst the little villages on the Avon), so the town went all out for the one festival of the year. That weekend, shops stayed closed on their own little holiday as parades promenaded down the river and children participated in any of several activities, all run by the town hall. At night, fire-breathers, acrobats, magicians, and musicians set up along the banks of the Avon and in the town center, wowing those out for a stroll.

The first night of the festival, that Friday, was traditionally kicked off with a fireworks display, followed by a masquerade in the town center. It wasn’t really a masquerade, more of a dance recital for the ever-popular Stratford Steppers, who took over the square with glitter, costumes, and mask making tables for the young and young-at-heart. The real masquerades began later that night, at parties thrown by the rich and powerful of the town. The noise, booze, and (more often than not) conflict kept the police on their toes, but it provided an outlet for those who needed it, and it wasn’t that difficult to not get caught—if you were clever.

This is our scene, and here we begin. Seven o’clock. Midsummer. The air is heavy with anticipation of the festival, and perhaps things further off. Love, betrayal, murder… who’s to say, until we step out on that stage?

Lights up.

-----------------------------------------------

Enter Lavinia Andronicus.

Lavinia stepped out of her house with a backpack on her shoulders and her stump hidden in the sleeve of her jacket. It was almost too warm for a jacket, but Lavinia had gotten good at making excuses for wearing them — surely, it would get colder as the sun set, and she would regret not wearing a jacket then, wouldn’t she?

Slowly, she started making her way to the town square, where a few other people seemed to be migrating. Honestly, she wouldn’t be going to this thing if her brother and her nephew weren’t in town. Her dad had made her promise to go meet Lucas and Lukie before the fireworks display, though, and she wanted to be there for Lukie’s first real Midsummer Festival. She’d pull through this, and hell, she might even enjoy it, because she was on her way to recovery.

The square was bustling, full of people, chairs, food, and some early-arriving performers, around which people flocked. Music blared and people chattered, and the place just looked so alive. Lavinia searched, but she couldn’t find Lucas, at least not in the spots where people weren’t swarming. He was probably just running late — classic Lucas. She decided to wait for him around the fringes of the crowd, where she could be alert but still enjoy some people watching. A three-piece band was set up not too far from her, playing a song she recognized. Liv was happy; she hummed along.

Torn Across the Rift

@Eyeris Yaaaaaaaaay!!!

All The World's A Stage (Shakespeare Modern AU)

Yo yo yo. I'll hopefully be getting the first post up tonight, so yay!

EDIT: FIRST POST IS UP! *party horns*

Olympus Falls

I thought it over and sadly I'd have to say no. There is a reason in the grand scheme of things that only Greek 'gods' are being chosen. I just can't reveal that at this point. I hope you can find a god that suits you. :)

@Balthazar007

That's alright! I'll work out something else then.

Torn Across the Rift

@Fumari yeaah ladies! welcome!