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Chaos Theory

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[Apr. 2nd, 2008|04:20 am]
sandmancometh
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Who: Donnie and OPEN
Where: Blockbuster
When: April 1st, evening


Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her. At first he'd assumed it was Rachel, warped to resemble someone else by his subconscious, but it wasn't. This woman, whoever she was, had nothing to do with his girlfriend.

She was familiar though, this stranger. As soon as sleep took over she'd be there, her sculpted hands brushing against his cheek and through his hair, making him feel calm and comfortable in his own mind. For a recurring dream, it wasn't all that bad.

It was just a pity he couldn't remember her. Once he woke up, the woman's face, her eyes, her smile were gone and out of his head, as if they'd never been there in the first place. The only time he remembered what she looked like was when he was asleep. That didn't mean he didn't think about her during waking hours, though. In fact, thinking about his dream woman was starting to be one of Donnies favourite ways to pass the time...which was why he decided it had to stop.

Moving his eyes over the shelf, Donnie picked up a dvd and stared blankly at the cover. He wasn't here to rent a dvd, not really. Movies made him sleepy, but Rachel was out and it wasn't like he read books. He just needed something to occupy him, to stop him thinking about a woman who wasn't real.
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[Apr. 1st, 2008|02:45 pm]
chaostheorynpcs
[Tags|, , , , ]
[Current Location |northwest DC]

Who: Damion and everyone who can conceivably be there.
Where: Damion's home
When: The afternoon of April 1

The whole thing had actually been Alainna's idea. Something about a spring afternoon garden party with practically public invitations. She'd lit up at the thought of planning such a thing and Damion hadn't cared to refuse her. It kept her distracted, anyway, which was preferable for him for now. And she seemed keen on inviting not only the sort of people they normally socialized with, but anyone she'd ever even briefly met. And most certainly she wanted those of her kind among them.

That was likely her consolation to Damion for humoring her with the party.

And it might actually manage to take his mind off his concerns of late. Off the fact that there seemed to be some other player in his game, on his turf. Someone involving themselves far too closely with the people he had taken a particular interest in. And the oracle-child could (would?) tell him nothing.

Better to play the charming host for a few hours, watch his wife smile, and possibly get a few hooks into a few new people.

At least Donovan seemed to be coming along nicely. And Matheson, if he could learn to keep a reign on his temper. Among others.
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[Feb. 18th, 2008|01:37 pm]
heartshapedtear
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Who: Valentin Antila
When: Around 2 p.m
Where: H Street

Valentin discovered after a trip to the Employment Office that going there was a wasted trip of his time. After being instructed over to a computer to deal with a busy and disorganized web site that he had already visited at home, he typed in his personal information and took a skills assessment test that he found tedious at best and that he really lacked the patience for. Then he met and spoke with a squat woman in rectangular glasses and a Farah seventies hairstyle who looked like she'd been sitting at that desk all her life and perhaps had a subconscious deathwish. A bunch of monotonous questions and a few unintelligible and ridiculous job recommendations later followed by his quick refusal to do the few laborious jobs tossed his way and the woman practically told him he shouldn't have to worry about working anyway since his family was well off after insulting the fashion industry and suggested to him that he should attend some local university while he was in the country. By the time Valentin was done speaking with her the woman's unspoken desire to have someone put her out of her misery like a cow that was confined to a stall that was too small to turn around in seemed clear to him.

He wondered how normal people ever managed to get a job that didn't require a certain level of mental retardation and self loathing and for one of the few times in his life thanked his lucky stars that he had been born so privileged. Gratitude however, did not help him find a job and he started to think he would venture down H Street to that Subway he passed on the way in for a pick me up.
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