p a x
l e t a l e
At Pax Letale, an awakening has begun. As these gods rediscover themselves and each other, the seemingly invisible but ubiquitous management tracks each of them quite closely, and the very building itself seems to have an agenda of its own. And as the gods made humans in their own image - or humans made them in theirs - so will the the behavior of the people of Pax turn as dark as their deities. Blood, strife, sex, petty plots, torture - even murder will wind their ways into Pax Letale.

September 29th, 2011

[info]atrickstertype
[info]paxletale
[info]atrickstertype
[info]paxletale

[Public from 507]

[info]atrickstertype
[info]paxletale
So, if you haven't noticed yet, there is currently a 30-ft  horse trailer parked catty-cornered across the drive.  It may be blocking some cars from getting out.

It's mine.  I call her the Monster.

What you don't realize is that rather bedraggled-looking trailer contains all of my worldly belongings, including a lot of boxes.  One of those boxes is full to bursting with packing peanuts, which are in turn carefully swaddling a bottle of Borgogno Barolo Riserva 1955, a bottle of Jean Grosperrin 1958, and a selection of midwestern beers and wines.  Whoever unpacks that box gets to keep it, and I'll provide for any other brave volunteers from the rest of my supply.

That's right, I'm bribing people to help me unpack in the middle of the night with fine booze.  And possibly pizza.  Is there a place with reasonably unburnt crusts that delivers around here?

If you want to take me up on the offer, I'll be the fellow lugging boxes up to 507. And furniture too, if nobody responds to my siren call of pizza, booze, and not being able to drive their car in the morning.

Sorry about that.  It was the only place I could park her.  Also, hello.

-Richard Wainwright