The 100; a panfandom game

So wow, okay. This whole complete mental break thing, or magic, or alternate universe, or whatever you want to call it - so, it's sticking. Bonus, looks like I haven't been smacked with the honesty stick today, but like that ever fucking stopped me. Contrary to what the step-douche thinks, I don't lie all that much anyway.

I guess I don't get what I'm doing here. Superheroes, smart people, strong people, whatever, okay. It's a magical menagerie. I'm just me. Chloe Price. No powers, no abilities if you don't count mad drumming ~skillz and the way I can piss off every authority figure in a twenty miles radius. I don't want to say I'm boring because please, I'm awesome, this is hella not a call for ego-stroking "ur so pretty" bullshit, but I mean, outside of the entire fucking universe having it out for me, I'm normal. Average. The only thing that's kinda whack in my life is Max's powers (not Max. Max isn't whack, unless we're totally cool-whack, in which case, girlfriend is hella whack). So maybe I'm whack by association?

So everyone's here either in a book or on TV or whatever. Is there a way to know where Max and I came from? Not in a deep existential BS way, just like... is there some jackass getting his rocks off watching me shower because I'm a character on a show? For example. 'Cause I'd like to at least get paid for that.

Also, horticulture bitches - weed. Someone's gotta be growing it. Fess up.

I killed a man. His name was Marty.

No, let's back up. I mean, I didn't kill him. But I did make him alive again and then make him dead again, because he was dead when he fell on me and then he was alive and now he's not.

Because that's what I do. I touch dead things and they come back to life. I don't know why, I don't know how, I don't know why me, but that's how it is.


And that's why the pie's so good. I used rotting fruit and brought it back to life, and alive-again fruit tastes better. That's what I've heard. I can't eat it, because if I do it goes back to rotting in my mouth, which is why I say I'm allergic to Chuck.

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.

So... I'm officially making a new rule for the apiary. And the greenhouse. And the rest of the animal and agriculture areas.

Please don't have sex in the animal or agriculture areas. Please.






Please don't.

CHUCK CHARLES:

You're either going to hate me or love me. Or maybe a little of both. Or maybe just love me, considering you're the one who keeps pushing me to be open and honest.

Well, I was open and honest. I was so open and so honest that we might have a partner in crime. Or, make that a partner in solving crimes, which are mostly hypothetical right now but could become real. Doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?

Besides, she reminds me of Olive and Emerson, if Olive and Emerson had a tiny blonde baby and that baby was a plucky private detective. And I spilled out my secret and she was like "Hey, need a Gal Friday" and I said yes and I'm feeling impulsive. I'm still riding the rush. I could do anything! Maybe I'll dye my hair or get a tattoo of a strawberry on my butt.

CHUCK CHARLES + VERONICA MARS:

Veronica, meet Chuck.

Chuck, meet Veronica.

The first big snowfall is my favorite day of the year. It's such a perfect reason to dress up in snuggly knitted clothes and stay cozy with your favorite people while you watch the snow drift down.

Who wants to test out their winter gear with me and make some snowmen this afternoon?

I miss kids trick-or-treating in my old neighborhood. There's just something so magical about watching groups of small children dare each other to ring the doorbell while the rest of them make bets on what kind curse the witches who open the door will lay on their friend.

It's weird. Yeah, the weather's alright with the crisp that's good for tonight and all the games and shit set up, but it don't feel right not having the neighborhood to wander 'round and do trick-or-treating and just stay out super late. It makes me miss I ain't ever missed home before

I've never worked in such a busy kitchen before.

I baked pies out of my home and then I baked pies out of my shop and I only made pies. Now there's breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it's a smorgasbord of chaos. I have a routine. My kitchen is my happy place. But it's not "my" kitchen. I miss my kitchen. I miss my apartment. I miss my dog.

I miss my dog. And the pitter patter of little dog feet and happy dog panting and tail wagging.


CHUCK CHARLES:

On a scale of one to ten, with one being "not at all" and ten being "stop immediately", how bad have I been about Halloween?

And when you answer I want you to factor in the fact that I didn't hide your pumpkins and tell you they went back to the farm.


Also, fun fact, I haven't touched one single dead person in two months.

NED:

I found a dead hive, but it's so late in the year I'm not sure we should bring them back. Mount Weather has their own bee boxes, but I was really hoping to have the re-alived bees. Now that I'm used to how that honey tastes, regular (or radioactive?) honey just isn't the same.

CHATTY TO CHUCK CHARLES:

» You haven't said anything, have you?
» About you-know-what.
» About both you-know-whats, which are inextricably linked.
» My you-know-what and your you-know-what.
» I'm being vague in case someone finds your phone.
» Like spies. I should put this in code.

right. varric's gone, don't like that. hawke's lover is gone, just when we started getting on.

and egghead's gone. thought i'd be happy, 'cause he kept saying shit about the Fade and kept asking me ~questions~ that don't have answers. asked me if i could feel it here. asked me what i thought was wrong with it. i don't frigging know, or care, and i don't want to talk about my dreams. so good riddance to him, but i'm not happy.

TO DO:
- write new words to songs (can't remember words)
- get someone else to sing songs. don't want to.
- ask shiny to sing my song nope
- find bees
- give cullen drawings
- fix bracelet frigging wolf shit
- more horn balm stuff for shiny


ASALA ADAAR:

hey, you.

not going to get pissed, or scared, or panic, but i don't want to wake up and find you gone. you get up before me, you roll me over and tell me it's all good, yeah? just say where you're going. people disappearing from our world, just want to keep you close.

don't leave me here alone with the voices and the dr.

and the big hat looks good on you, by the way. always does.

I don't know anything about werewolves, and I don't know anything about cursed wounds or bites, I don't even know how or why we're all here in the first place, and I don't know where most of you come from, but I know this: we're a long way from home.

I know for me, when I feel like I don't have a home to come home to, I make pie.

Pie is home, and people want to feel at home. So I've made pies; it's what I do. They're being served at dinner tonight, and I'm coming by medical to bring slices for the staff and all of the patients who can't make it there.

That's all I can do.


FARMERS/KITCHEN STAFF:

What do we do with the produce that goes bad? Where does it go?

The mess hall is open, and we're serving coffee and eggs made to order.

Peeta and I. We're serving breakfast, until the morning shift comes in.

I hardly know what I'm doing. I think it's safe to say that right now, we're focusing on our loved ones and beginning the process of cleaning up. So the mess hall is going to be open for those who need coffee or something to eat. It will probably be breakfast foods, because those are quick and filling.

Alastor Moody, which apparently some of you already know? Someone smiled and waved at me in the hallway. To say that's rare reaction to me back home is putting it really fucking lightly, but whatever the case, it was an odd experience. Maybe they've just hit their head one too many times and I look another cripple they know.

I've been assigned to the guards. And yes, I have a cane. It'll be fine.

Hi! My name is Chuck. It's short for "Charlotte". I'm from a completely different reality, and I know a lot of you are, too.

This is amazing. Do you all knew how many multiverse theories this proves right? How many scientists back home would just lose their minds if they knew we'd all made it through to a parallel universe? I knew I hadn't seen all the amazing things in the world, but I never imagined I'd see this.

I can see from skimming the network that something is going on (werewolves! they exist! they're coming in this direction! I don't know whether to be delighted they exist or melt in fear, my god), so I don't know if you all are comfortable having a cheerful conversation with me right now, but if any of you need a cheerful distraction from war preparations, I'm here! Tell me all about yourself! Ask me questions! I'd love to get to know you!

Testing?

This is so stupid. What am I even supposed to say? Should have given me a script, Bell

I'm supposed to be doing a test to see who can actually see this to check and see if the network is up and running. I guess if you can see this, reply back with your name and if you're having any kind of issues? I can pass them along to whoever.