The 100; a panfandom game

Since it has recently been a question, I thought it pertinent to make an announcement:

The Rose, our local Mount Weather tavern, is not for children. That said, we judge whether you're a child or not based more or less on how you look and how you behave. If you show up being fifteen and not looking eleven and ask politely for a drink and don't cause any trouble, I don't particularly care.

Regardless of your age, we will boot you out if you can't behave yourself - and please, please do not get any notion that because I'm small or because I'm an elf I'm not capable of ousting you - but as long as you appear to know how to conduct yourself, you'll be fine. And if you have questions on how to conduct yourself, feel free to ask. I've got a good barkeep's love of giving advice.

>> Have you plans for the evening?
>> and if you haven't, would you care for a game of chess or another round of reading?

WHO: Cullen Rutherford and Veronica Mars
WHEN: Monday evening, January 31
WHERE: the Mount Weather library
WHAT: A couple days after having a random evening of hanging out in the tavern/making out in Veronica’s room, they meet again.
WARNINGS: References to violence, rampant heterosexuality.

( It's a very fine book fort. I find myself tempted to build a few very small trebuchets to attempt to take it down. Perhaps also a tiny battering ram. )

Right, so.... Now that we're back to normal and everything is right with the world, I need at least three penis molds. Four is better. Any to offer up?

I have had an interesting conversation with Amadeus Cho. Darcy Lewis, you should meet this man. He reminds me of you; I cannot decipher half of what he says, either. It seems in Midgard of old, or of current should you hail from an alternate timeline, there were situations where people of note would spend time answering questions from the public. Ask Anything, it was called.

In an effort to get to know as many of you as I am able, by way of you getting to know me, I would like to resurrect this idea here. Please, ask me anything. I will endeavor to answer every question as honestly as possible.

There is much discussion on what to do with the dragon that has been attacking villages. Here are the facts:

• We have several Grounder refugees who made it here in the nick of time.
  
• We do not have a map of Grounder villages so we cannot send this creature to live somewhere else that is uninhabited.
  
• We have no assurances that the food in some fairytale preservation area would not run out, and that it wouldn't seek food nearby, endangering Grounders and us alike.
  
• We are currently in the midst of a very serious food shortage. We've run dangerously low on meat for most citizens, blood for vampires, and brain for our zombie citizen.
  
• We have all of Camp Jaha to support which we were not prepared for when we stockpiled our food for the winter.
  
• Wizards would be able to get dibs on dragon bone and blood for potions and spells.
  
• The scales could be used in clothing and armor.
  
• We have no solid hunting leads, especially not with the amounts of animals that are being found frozen by what appears to be magic.

Many of you want to destroy it, many want to preserve it. A few want to transfigure it into something else. All of those are legitimate ideas that deserve serious thought for. However, this administration cannot forget that we have another three months of winter with supplies running well below normal.

I am sorry to say that the chancellor's feeling on the matter is confused. Her compassion drives her to want to preserve the creature, but the pragmatist who cares for her people considers its ethical death to be a priority. The pros and cons are simply too great for her to ignore.

Priority to those who could kill the beast, but those who would like to attempt transfiguring are welcome to try. However, if you get in the way of those attempting to bring it down, there will be consequences.

Well. I did want to get the hell out of North Salem for a while, but it seems I overshot my mark.

Thank you to everyone in Medical. You were very professional and I appreciate that no one tried to kill me. It's refreshing, honestly.

As for those I haven't met, hello. My name is Jean Grey-Summers. I feel like an alien so 'I come in peace' seems apropos.

Think we can call it - Chuck and Ned are gone.

[ Private ]

Well, Veronica, you're back to a one-woman detective unit. Which (to be fair) is your natural and reliable state. We're only in an alternate universe; there's no need to change things up so much.

I keep hoping I'll get used to seeing Lilly's face. That I'll turn a corner, see Luna Lovegood, and be perfectly unaffected. Composed. Cool. She's paler than Lilly was - going to guess the Lovegoods don't have a swimming pool out back - but I've seen her smile. Had to turn around, walk away. It's not her fault, and she doesn't need to know. "Hi, you look like my murdered best friend. Did you know that I've seen your brain peeking out from your hair part? Wowsers."

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you don't drag bystanders into your bullshit. Be an island, Mars. Not all of us can be Maui. You can settle for being Staten.

See you around, pie-freaks. I hope you figure it out.

[ /Private ]

Fight Club on Friday; same time and place as last time. Let Evie and I know if you're interested. Let's skip having a battle beforehand, yeah? That was ill-advised.

The rules for those of you who are new drop-ins: no props, no weapons, no powers save those you can't help. All levels of experience welcome. First one to go down and stay down loses; the winner goes on to the next round until everyone's had a go. The matches are random so no whinging at me if you don't fancy your partner. First time you cheat, you're out and that's that. Last month's winner was that Russian bloke whose name I can't be arsed to look up to spell properly, but he gets first dibs on his partner. Congrats again, mate.

Thinking of something else, too; see if it drudges up any interest. Anyone without much background in fighting or self-defense - do you want lessons? I could use a project. I'm only human but I learned young, and have practical knowledge of how to get a bruiser off your back. Don't believe in following specific artsy-fartsy styles of fighting much, but I do believe in being able to defend yourself. Drop me a line if this might be something you fancy.


[ OOC - Please check the 01/15/16 sign up list here to determine a) if your characters you want included are included, and b) if there are any dropped or disinterested characters on that list that need to be taken off. Then, comment on this entry with any updates that need to be made. Sign ups close 01/13/16 at 12:00PM EST! ]

Uh, so. First of all, hey!

We're back from our trip out to Raven Rock. We've got supplies and samples, and we managed to figure out what happened to the people who were holed up there.

... Which means Martha thinks it's best if we're all quarantined until further notice, just until we all get totally clean bills of health. The disease that got Raven Rock shouldn't still be viable, but we're not taking any chances.

So we're all here, we just can't have welcome-back hugs just yet. And you can't hug the stuff we brought back, either. Give it a couple days and we'll be all good.

I like breakfast. Simple pleasures in life, right? Food and warmth when you're tired and cranky, no matter how burned or watery the coffee is. Usually a win/win situation.

Know what I don't like at breakfast? Hepped up chode-raging morons who can't share a goddamn public space for five seconds before they arrive at the conclusion that 'I have all this penis, and by golly, the world should know, so I'd better start asserting myself pronto'.

Here's a note for anyone else looking to beat the January doldrums by attacking someone else over a muffin: don't. I don't care what you are. Floukru, Trigdakru, Sky People, Pod People, get over yourselves. We already put one kid in the hospital over this stupidity, and we are not going to keep at it. None of us are better than the others. We all have the same right to life; I don't care what your backstory is or who owns the land or who died here ten months ago because this is survival and it's messy and it's brutal and if we start to go at each other, really go at each other, surprise! Starvation and radiation won't have to kill us because we can't even share a frickin' mountain.

Get over yourself and think about it before you pick a fight with someone you don't like or understand. We may not be better than that but I'd appreciate it if you can fake it for a few more months, okay? Okay.

My coffee is cold.

[ ooc - As per the calendar: "The Floukru and Trigdakru do not seem to get along very well, but maybe that's just tensions running wild. ONE VOLUNTEER breaks up what looks like it will be a fight between the two group leaders." Veronica attempted to calm them down using 'hey now, enough of that', and when that didn't work, she shoved her 5'1 body between them and Mom Voice'd them until they backed down. Feel free to have seen or heard about it! ]

A separate forum for anonymous grievances always ends well. I am thrilled to wonder who will be granted admittance.

Or is that anonymous too?

okay



everything's fine


i just misplaced a grenade.


TEN MINUTES LATER: nevermind, i had it the whole time.

I can't decide if I'm going to go to bed at 10:30pm tonight or do something I'll regret. Is there going to be a place where a gal can grab a drink somewhere quiet, or is the general consensus happy-shrieking-woo-hoo as far as the eye can see? Not trying to be Debbie Downer; I'm just not one for the big parties. AKA: boring.

It wasn't until I actually lived with people who can see the dead and are, moreover, really okay about it that I wanted to tell you I almost got put in the hospital for talking to my dead CO. I loved him. I love him still. He died saving me and I miss him every time I hear Clair de Lune. He would hate that.

And, you know, I'm very sure and very aware of the cliche nature of what I just imparted.

Lydia Martin is very pretty.

I haven't talked about it much, but back home I used to work with a private investigator. We would be hired to discover the causes behind mysterious and usually bizarre deaths, give the truth to a client, and then collect a reward for solving the mystery. The police would do everything else from there, and I guess a part of me thought everything would go the way it was supposed to after that.

This is... I don't know.

Maybe I'm just not getting enough sun. I usually love going outside in winter and I've never had a problem with SAD, but I've also never lived in a bunker during the apocalypse, so maybe it's just a unique circumstance. I should go get some fresh air.

I know someone who was killed like Emerson.

His name was Aaron Echolls. I don't know if he's a movie star everywhere, but back home, he occupied that Bruce Willis/Kevin Costner/Jason Statham niche that made him rich and beloved by all. He posed with his fans and donated to charities. He also had sexual relationships with sixteen year old girls and then bashed their brains out when they threatened to come clean. Alternatively, he used public sympathy from a recent stabbing (another affair, different affair) to minimize the damage he caused by locking another nosy teenage girl into a refrigerator and setting it alight with gasoline (me, of course. What, did the nosy not give it away?).

Because he was rich, white, and male, and because one victim couldn't speak for herself on account of being dead, and the other could speak until she was hoarse and still be labelled a foolish slut in the public eye, he got away with it. "Not enough evidence". Three words to level you flat, right? It's not supposed to end like this. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children. Truth prevails. Evil's punished.

He was shot after he was acquitted. I have my theories who did it, and I don't care. I hope he suffered. I know he didn't. It was fast, clean, and efficient - an execution.

That didn't make it justice. I saw him for years afterward. I still do I wanted him dead and now he's a ghost in my head, because I was happy he was killed that way. Culpable.

If you're fine with the way Emerson died, great. If you're not fine, also great. Also? No longer relevant. His story is finished, whatever comes out about people who suspected, people who helped, people who tried to stop it from happening. We're always going to be what's left. The collateral damage. We screwed up big-time, friends, now where are we going next? Is murder in the shadows our legacy? Has humanity really been so level all these years? I don't know.

But there'll be a next time. The calendar waits for no existential moral panic. Let's do better then. Let's deserve a system that works to protect us. We can think the world's better off without the Emersons and Echolls in the world. But that doesn't mean we're better for it.

This journal entry of angsty over-identifying is brought to you by the letter 'B', as in B-movie and bitter-like-coffee.

So the fact that this kidnapping doesn't involve any torture so far is pretty nice but the location sure could be better. Like the beach.

But they said I should introduce myself on here because that apparently helps with the whole 'SURPRISE' you're in the future or a future which is seriously crazy.

Anyway I'm Caroline. Is this what introducing yourself in an AA meeting feels like?

This place is fucking weird and I call bullshit on your bartenders. If I want to get shitfaced in a literal hole in the wall, I have the right to get shitfaced, especially on my first night.


EVERYONE FROM THE MESS HALL BRAWL:

Still not sold on... the hell did you call him, The Doctor? Who's just called "The Doctor"? Sounds like the kind of pretentious shit I'd expect out of his face.

Anyway, sorry for hitting some of you. Your friend's ugly.

( ooc; oop, just for insurance, content warnings for alcoholism and discussions of kilgrave's mind control under here. if you've seen the show, you know what's up. )

Okay, I give. I think admin is the single most boring job I've ever worked.