May 2020






RSS Atom
Powered by InsaneJournal

Dec. 26th, 2015


Sam A, Daniel W

[Sam A]

Thank you so much. You know that if you fold enough cranes, you get a wish?

[Daniel W]

It was you, wasn't it?

Dec. 24th, 2015


Delivery, Daniel W

Delivery: Daniel W )


Daniel & Cotton: bookstore

Who: Daniel & Cotton
Where: Alexandria Books
What: Ransacking the book store.
When: Post-Sam & Cris & Iris's cat, sometime before Destiny-chomp

Fitzgerald! He’s not worth it. There’s a dozen of him here )

Dec. 12th, 2015




Cat found. Kind of skinny. Definitely affectionate. Missing, or stray?

And if you're stuck thinking up a Christmas gift for the relative you don't know particularly well but can't Grinch at family celebrations? We've got about every classic in stock. And gingerbread. (Free. We're not selling gingerbread).

Dec. 11th, 2015




I kind of stumbled on a super important scientific discovery, which I feel is only right to share with the world at large. My discovery is as follows: I have determined that A Christmas Story kind of sucks if it's watched before Christmas. I suspect it might actually degrade in enjoyment factor with additional time increments between holiday and viewing, and that Christmas Day proximity is the key ingredient for not-suck. But I can't actually test my proximity suspicion until next year, so it'll just be an untested theory until further notice.

Dec. 8th, 2015




Stealing the baby Jesus from the Nativity scene in front of the church doesn't make for a good point, and it's not funny. If you have some issues you want to talk about, I'm here and I don't judge.

Also, recipients of certain wreath-shaped cookies, I apologize that salt and sugar look so similar. They won't taste like death next time.

Dec. 4th, 2015



I do hope this sort of fog is not a regular occurrence in this town.

Dec. 3rd, 2015




Rapunzel in her tower, circuits and blinking lights and a world bigger than it seems. Locked away but not, and let down her hair, and there's no need for that long, long braid, because there's light coming, bright and pixels and barbed wire rips through skin easily.

Be careful.

Dec. 1st, 2015



[Rory B.]
[Not that she knows Rory B is a person. To Connie, he's just a cute, freaky dog that comes by once and awhile. Tonight she leaves the back door to the B&B slightly ajar so he can trot in for food and pets. It's foggy out there and stray dogs need a place to sleep, after all.]

[Dahlia H.]

i know i promised to bring you burgers today but this wu-tang fog is not to be fucked with

[Zach B.]

so, is there a way to science out this fog?


are there any ghost hunters that moved into town? there's a haunted room no one wants to stay in. what ghost up must come down.

Nov. 28th, 2015



If you didn't get a real Thanksgiving or you just really like leftover turkey and stuffing, let me know, I have lots.



[As Damian W]

A depiction is not an homage; nor is it proof of devotion. Especially not when it is done without skill and thought, as well as being entirely devoid of accuracy. I do not wish to see another fat, plastic infant in plastic hay on someone's lawn.

Nov. 25th, 2015




Someone just dropped off a whole load of Dickens. Anyone looking for a Christmas gift, we've got just about every Dickens there is, sometimes double over. (Why do you have two, sometimes three, copies of the same book, mysterious donor?)

Nov. 24th, 2015




You folks that been here forever, you tell me how many fat santas and real inaccurate nativities are fixing to make my eyes bleed come Thursday.

Nov. 21st, 2015


Hospital: The dead girl & [Closed]

Who: Clementine & Cotton
What: Late-night triage
Where: The Bitty Hospital
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Probably safe

The hospital was off Central and Main, and it was as dead as the graveyard that was just beyond the squat little building. Near two in the morning, lights dimmed to nearly nothing, and wasn't even one person sitting in that waiting room. Least someone could do was slice a finger off, or maybe get themselves in some real interesting trouble with as bottle. When Clementine was interning at the ER in Atlanta, then folks came in all hours, and they came in with the weirdest damn things fussing them. Here, it was crickets and a real bitter cold beyond the double doors.

The ER doctor on duty was home, sleeping nice a few minutes away, and the night nurse was probably in the parking lot, romancing that good for nothing from the trailer park. And Clementine, she was sitting at the triage desk, bored as a sinner in church.

She wasn't dressed right for a hospital, but it wasn't something she noticed any. She was blind to a whole lot of things 'bout herself that just weren't right, and her dressing how she was, it was just one of a list of things that made sense in her head, when they rightly shouldn't make sense at all. Point was, the blonde sitting there, mid-twenties and that was being generous, was wearing a brown shirt, few buttons and a white thermal beneath. Denim, and some real sturdy hiking boots. Her coat was fur, and it was the real kind, black bear and she'd killed them with her daddy, and that fur was draped over the triage desk, discarded in the warmth of the echoing hospital.

Clementine, she just wasn't made for sitting quiet, and she'd loved the ER back in Atlanta on account of it being bustling always and not a thing like the quiet hospital back in her hometown. But here she was, bored to tears and she tapped her forehead against the desk, arms extended out in supplication to some damn God of catastrophes to come calling. This rate, she was going to end up exploring the morgue or kicking at gravestones, and all to be entertained some.