November 2015




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Oct. 16th, 2015


public, but anon

I've always despised the phrase "like father, like son".

I do not want to be like my father.

I want to be more than my father could ever dream of.

Oct. 14th, 2015



[He means to write only to Mina, but our good doctor is medically dosed and distracted by talk of death. So public it is.]

What a strange thing man is; and what a stranger thing woman.

Rest your worries, she is safe.

Oct. 7th, 2015


You know when you love someone but you also kinda wanna choke the stupid out of them?

But they're so fucking stubborn they'd probably die before giving it up?

Oct. 5th, 2015


Louis D, Daniel W, Penny R, Trystan C, Cerise S, Marta F, Seven M, Joseph W, Peggy C, Luke H, Clem M

[After this, the post is deleted.] [Locked separately to Louis D, Daniel W, Penny R, Trystan C, Cerise S, Marta F, Seven M, Joseph W, Peggy C, Luke H, & Clem M (all including Sam A)]
Who are you?

[In-person: Sam A/Cris M]
[From their booth, he just taps his iPad with two fingers.] Done.


public, jean g, trystan c


This headache is about to knock me on my ass.

[Locked to Jean G]


[Locked to Trystan C]

I'm sorry. I really am.

Sep. 3rd, 2015



[As 'Belle.']

If one wished to convert goods to funds in another door, where would one do such?

Sep. 2nd, 2015



[Upon return to his home, there is an unexpected development in the realm of interior decoration. Becoming quite distraught, Victor medically prescribes himself ampules of morphine until his being is reduced to drool and dithers. Hours later, from beneath the medicine's spell, Victor continues work on the sketch he'd started several days before. It grows on the journal page until elegant strokes master the whole of it, penciled and public.]

Aug. 27th, 2015



Desire at the end

            was a malady, a madness? __ or. both.

Aug. 7th, 2015



I can't find the key.

I can't find the key to get out of here.

I've looked everywhere and I can't find the key!

Aug. 5th, 2015


[ Public ]

I know this is a long shot but does anyone have any sort of job opening?

I'm not good with people and I won't pass a piss test/background check but I can lift heavy stuff pretty good and uh, I can count and spell at a 8th grade level at least? I did okay enough on the ASVAB, I mean for 11b. fuck me why am I even trying

Long shot, I know. ...Anybody?



well isnt this fun.

Aug. 3rd, 2015


[ Public ]

So I'm out of the slammer now. u still here? Please don't be dead.

Aug. 2nd, 2015


[public from pamela i.]

I don't feel well. I don't feel right. Not at all. Is this supposed to happen?

Aug. 1st, 2015




not good.

Jul. 27th, 2015


gotham: trystan & liam

Who: Trystan & Liam
What: Roommates
Where: The new place in Gotham
When: Recent!
Warnings/Rating: TBD

[Yeah, the place wasn't much to speak of, but it wasn't a hotel room, and it had that going for it at least. Shabby, one bedroom, stained walls and carpeting, but he wasn't complaining. It was a place to stay, a roof over his head, and he wasn't alone.

Funny how 'not being alone' had come to be one of those things that was important to him. He could remember living on his own, being okay with it, but now the quiet, the solitude, it felt imposing and suffocating, and just knowing that another person was sharing the space with him was enough to put some of the voices in his head at ease.

The corner of the living room (or what constituted a living room in the cramped space) had become his. Notebooks and cheap pens, an ash tray and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He was slouched against the wall, feet bare and wings concealed beneath a thin t-shirt, a cigarette in hand as he stared down at the notebook balanced on one knee.

Writer's block. A cement wall that he couldn't find a way over.]

Jul. 26th, 2015



Maybe writing again isn't such a bad idea. Thoughts on paper, stories on paper, right?

I bet it'd be good again. I could be good again.

Jul. 20th, 2015



[Because he's torn about this and could go either way. Public, but not visible to Ronan.]

First year anniversary: stay in or go out?

Jul. 16th, 2015



Anyone got a line on some quick cash?

May. 31st, 2015



[Slanted. Ink.]

Here's a theory. We're all in Hell, and the doors are just an ironic joke. A door that doesn't go anywhere. Hilarious.

May. 27th, 2015



My research is not very good at helping me figure out how to get the smell of decay and rotten flesh out of my hair.

And skin.

And my shoes.

Might someone here have some advice?

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