Broken Space

It's an annual tradition, and this year Johnny is feeling particularly celebratory. The island seemed to have gone easy on them this year, for some reason. A few people coming, a few people leaving, and mostly not craziness. In fact, it was so incredibly mundane that Johnny was going stir-crazy. He wouldn't even have minded if the dinosaurs came back, so long as something interesting happened. So this year he'd decided to ring in the next year with a particularly exceptional party in the hopes that something would happen--even if it was just another baby in nine months. With any luck it wouldn't be his.

There was alcohol. Lots of alcohol. And a feast of barbecued boar, roasted fish, fresh vegetables and fruits. There were torches lighting the path from the Compound to Summerfell, and on the beach a large bonfire burned. Best of all, he'd spoken with the sciency types and they'd managed a very special countdown for midnight.

Fireworks. Raw, experimental--but still big explosions of sparks and light. It was going to be awesome.

Time slipped by so easily on the island, so it was no wonder that Jane had forgotten to mark her birthday on the day and only realised it when she sat down to jot down some thoughts about her stay. As she glanced at the notebook, which was now full of ramble, she realised the day of her birth had occurred two days past.

Putting the notebook away, under her pillow, Jane sat up on her bed and frowned at the wall, blinking to combat the prickle of wistful tears stinging her eyes. True, she never had wild parties back home, but she could guarrantee on a phone call from her parents and brothers at least, and now it was so long since she last heard from them. Jane sniffed and then shook her head. Moping about and feeling lonesome wasn't going to help. She needed to do something.

After considering and discarding options, Jane decided to bake a cake. That way she could seek out Bran, Will, Jon and others, and actually have a bit of a party. She could say today was her birthday, rather than two days ago (although Will might call her on that she figured he would let the lie slip this time), so no one felt bad about missing it.

Feeling more energised, Jane tidied up, and went to the kitchen. Pulling on an apron, she set to work mixing a bowlful of ingredients, using a recipe she had in her head for a chocolate cake. Once the cake was in the oven, she sat down with a book to wait for it to finish baking.

There was, Bright thought, something pretty cool about being able to have a New Year's party on the beach. He'd made a bonfire, got some brews, fired up the grill, and harassed everyone he knew into hauling a whole lot of food down to the main beach. His iPod was hooked up to some speakers Alec had gotten working again, and there were some towels and cushions tossed onto the sand for people to sit on.

Success was his.

"Happy new year celebration in progress!" he yelled. "Let the party begin! Who's got karaoke?"

[NYE party! Tag now/late/slow/whatever at will!]

What do you get when you combine one already creepy compound and two party addicts with way too much time on their hands?

One amazing party.

The entrance to the Compound has been lined with black and fake cobwebs, and an old tape recorder playing a casette of scary sound effects on a loop. All lights have been covered up, and the only lights one can see are at the end of the hallway.

The end of the hallway is the Lobby, and it's been turned into one hell of a party room (no pun intended). The walls are also covered in black, with the harsh fluorescent lights covered with sheer fabric and mounted squares of colored glass. There's a bar, a non-alcoholic fruit punch for the kiddies, a table full of appetizers and bowls of sugar cane sticks and other sweet things. There's not much left in the basement anymore--Bright and Johnny scoured the shelves and hijacked everything that could be used for a speaker system and begged Alec and the Doctor to help.

Well, Johnny begged. Because he's not above begging a Timelord to play the Professor from Gilligan's Island when it comes to wanting a kickass sound system.

Music from someone's forgotten ipod is now blaring, the bass so loud it makes Johnny's chest vibrate--the perfect volume, in his opinion.

And what would be Halloween without costumes? Because otherwise Johnny Storm wouldn't be the devil his sister always accused him of being and just be a man in a red catsuit, carrying a pitchfork with sparkly red horns on his head--and that would just be silly.


[Set to Halloween Night, naturally, but as we're all going to be gone...pre-play to your heart's content!]

The Doctor wanted to have a barbecue on the beach. He thought it was a brilliant idea, of course. All of the Doctor's ideas are brilliant, because he's clever like that. Jack snorts, smiling faintly to himself as he builds up the wood he collected into a pile for a bonfire. Sometimes the Doctor's unbridled enthusiasm for everything is annoying, but even when it is, Jack still somehow finds it endearing. Because well...he's the Doctor.

There's a selection of meats and vegetables and sticks set off to one side on a blanket, for people to cook with if they wander by and decide to join in. The Doctor isn't really one for formality: no announcements, no signs or invitations. Just 'you should make a bonfire on the beach, Jack. I'm sure people will come, it's a barbecue. Good old-fashioned Earth tradition, barbecues.' And so Jack is making a fire on the beach, because if the Doctor asks for it, it's pretty much a given that Jack Harkness will provide it.

[Gathering post for all interested, or feel free to catch Jack still in preparation stages.]

Calvin soars over the landscape of Galunlati, scanning below for any sign of Fionchadd with the sharp eyes of a falcon. He hopes he doesn't see him, of course--by now Finno's hopefully well on his way to the Powersmiths, but well, the Faery boy hadn't looked all that hot when he'd departed Uki's cave, bound for the shores that lead to the Powersmiths' world. So Cal's just gonna make sure nothing happened between there and here, that's all.

A shift of wingtips and he glides lower, looking for evidence of the Faery's passing if nothing else. There! Footprints, faint but detectable with the eyes he's using now. He circles, dropping lower still, but then...it feels like the air grows thicker around him, and suddenly the pain of transformation rips through him, his body feeling like it's stretching, turning inside out, the familiar sensation an unwelcome one now. "No..." he chokes, half birdscreech, have human voice, and then he's falling, and he only has a second or two to realize the landscape's changed, the world is not the same one he was in only moments ago--

And then impact. A cloud of sand puffs up around his body, though it feels like solid cement as he slams facedown onto the beach, the wind knocked out of him. "...Ow," he groans as soon as he can breathe again. Maybe he'll just not move for a spell, at least until every inch of his body stops throbbing in pain.

[Nekkid injun boy sprawled facedown on the beach!]

Sitting on the beach, Jane wriggles her toes deeper in the sand and stares thoughtfully at her creation. It's a very large sandcastle that's obviously been laboured over for some time, decorated with shells on the side and a deep moat around it with a piece of driftwood for a moat. Four turrets are on each corner and there's a large central keep which towers the highest. It's a magnificent structure and Jane supposes she should be rather proud of it, but she feels like something's missing and she's also wondering how she's come to the point where she spends a large portion of her day reverting to childhood. Besides, building a sandcastle on her own isn't that much fun.

A heavy sigh escapes and she leans back, tipping her head up like a flower seeking more sun. The island is a pleasant place and the people are interesting (although she hasn't been very social since Bran and Ephram's wedding), but she misses her old life and feels a bit useless. At the moment all she does is haunt the library, the beach or the cave where she's set up camp.

Looking back at her sandcastle, Jane narrows her eyes and tries again to work out what's missing.

I just realised we hadn't posted this yet. Bran and Ephram get married on the beach, accompanied by a few close friends. Timed to 6 June.

If the ceremony itself had a limited guest list, the party afterward is open to everyone. It's casual affair, with a bonfire on the beach and a few makeshift tables filled with snacks, treats, and what alcohol is left from the previous night's debauchery.

It's simple. It's unpretentious. It's perfect.

There is music playing--probably Dairine's iPod again, and the speakers Alec had made out of broken parts. The moon, a tiny sliver in the darkening sky, glimmers from the violet-streaked sky. It looks as if the horizon is painted in watercolours, the perfect backdrop to a brilliant day.

[Wedding reception! Everyone invited, slowtimed through the weekend if necessary. :)]

Will had been hard at work--not just at making something, which he was, but at keeping it a secret, which he also was. He'd felt a bit rushed at the end, but is now quite pleased with the result, the secret itself, tucked away in his trouser pocket and wrapped up in a handkerchief.

Old Ones had a few talents that didn't involve stopping time, after all.

Whistling to himself, a haphazard rendition of Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, he strolls down the beach toward the compound, scuffing bare feet in the sand.

[While technically for Ephram and Bran, Jane and/or Norrington would be interesting as well! And everyone's welcome, of course!]

The air inside the cave was stuffy, but Jane barely noticed as she crouched over the area she was carefully excavating with her trusty trowel. The tip of her nose was almost in the dirt, enough of which flecked her face, and occasionally she had to pause to tuck loose strands of her straight brown hair behind her ears. Finally, her efforts were rewarded as the edge of an ancient pot came into view, and then more of the rim was revealed under her careful handling until it was obvious that she was seeing one whole Roman pot. Straightening and sitting back on her heels, Jane grinned broadly. So much for the professor's warning that it was highly unlikely any major finds would be discovered on the first day! She'd been drawn to this spot based on earlier finds, convinced there was something waiting for her and she was right!

"David! I..." the announcement to the other student working with her died away when Jane realised she was alone. After a puzzled moment, she vaguely recalled David saying he was going to break and she should too, but naturally she didn't listen. With a sigh, and rubbing the back of her now stiff neck, Jane marked her find and then got to her feet. She had to tell the professor about this anyway, he would certainly frown on a second year student attempting to excavate something so precious without supervision.

Stuffing trowel and brush into the belt around her waist, and making a futile attempt to brush dirt from shirt and jeans, Jane made her way to the entrance of the cave.

And stepped out into bright sunlight and warm air instead of the cold damp of a British spring.

"Eh?" Jane skidded to a halt and stared around in amazement. There was no longer a cave behind her but lush green trees instead and before her was a stunning beach lapped by an ocean of such intense colour it almost hurt to look. She closed her eyes tightly. "There must have been a rockfall and I was hit on the head," she muttered. "And now I'm dreaming... or hallucinating, because there's no way this is real and when I open my eyes I will find myself in hospital surrounded by Professor Astor, David and all the others..."

She opened her eyes. The trees, sand and surf were all still there. Mouth hanging open, Jane tottered towards the beach, blinking rapidly and occasionally pinching herself. "This is impossible!"