The Doorway: a panfandom game

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Duit! Sláinte agus táinte! Tiocfaidh ár lá.

Thank you Google Translate.

So I've been here a couple weeks now and I still haven't heard back from the people at Columbia to see if I can at least not fall behind in law school. Feeling restless. Anyone have leads on some part time jobs for a sassy girl who knows how to sling joe and solve mysteries?

Also, been having one of those days. Who wants to send me pictures of penguins/unicorns and/or puppies?

Private to Sam

Hey. I wanted to give you space for a little bit since everything was so...intense. But I watched the video. It helped me understand some things, even if it gave me more questions. I won't ask you them, not yet at least.

But I would love to do some sparring. Of the verbal or physical kind.

Private to Mara Jade

Uh hi...I have some questions.

About..me?

....Rick Castle, you are in trouble.

Chewie has a boyfriend. The weirdest thing? It's a dog. Every day there's scratching at the door. I don't know whose dog it is. The dog comes in. Chewie doesn't kill the poor boy automatically. She purrs at him and rubs up against him. It's weird.

Cats, man.

[Jessicas (both 616)]

We should do something. Because I have no life. And I haven't hit anything in a long time. I haven't been useful in a long time. So I need to get out and do something. Yes?

Being sick isn't so bad when it means a day curled up in bed watching tv with the husband, the kid, and the dog. Though, if I'm honest, I slept through most of it. But it was still nice to have my boys around.

Oh well, hello there fine people of this not quite the city I just left. The name's Mars, Veronica Mars. Veronica "Danger" Mars if we're being technical.

Uh, here's the thing. I guess I was here before? And that's weird. So...hello again? Or for the first time?

Private to Sam

So. There was a note in the storage room I was shown to that was a little cryptic that tells me I should talk to you. About having been here before. I have to say, it's a little weird that Sam Winchester is talking to me and not from my fantasies so.

Uh, forget that last part.

So....

????

....anyone else come home to three bags full of discounted Valentine's candy from Duane Reade, or is this just proof my husband cannot control himself?

I don't really understand the purpose of Valentine's Day.

Why can't Netflix and Chill just mean Netflix and Chill. I'm really more interested in catching up on the Walking Dead than I will ever be in sex.

[Spider Ladies]

I can't drink, and I knock people over when I turn sideways. I don't know if I'm really an ideal Valentine's Day date, Webs.

[Clint Barton (616)]

Can I ask a favour?

Hold up. You can buy girl scout cookies online?

Peppeeeeeeeer.

Filtered to: Phil Coulson (MCU), Abigail Brand (MCU), Carol Danvers (EMH), Kate Beckett, Renee Montoya aka SHIELD, SWORD, NYPD & FBI representatives

Good day everyone. So much to do, I haven't seen Phil or his shadow today. But a digital round of coffee could do us all wonders (and check your mail boxes at work for actual coffee). And I'd like to float a name to reintroduce to our network society. I've given them a second chance, and they've done well. But it'll never truly be one unless they interact with people outside our types. And any person who comes back to us does more good than simply removing them from play. I'm an example of that. Grant Ward is ready for this, to speak with people not entirely like us. I'd just like him to be able to post without causing you to lose your coffee. Which by Thor I hope hasn't happened now either. But there's more if you need it.

Donald Trump lost. That'd be enough to restore my faith in humanity if I didn't investigate murders for a living.

Apparently having a baby just means I post marginally more about the baby instead of cats and dogs.

So there are a bunch of people with little kids around the tower now. I was wondering if anyone would maybe be interested in a playgroup type thing outside of you know the Youth Center stuff. Could be cool? Or at least a version of cool. We could be like a gang. Only instead of violence and cool jackets it's nursery rhymes and diaper bags.

Also. Anyone interested in being a nanny?

I'm afraid I need some advice. I was asked to dinner by a very lovely man. However I know nothing about dating. We did not do such things in my time. And I have never really been courted.

What am I supposed to wear, or discuss with him? I understand some things about this world, but I fear he would not understand why I know nothing about the 1990s, or some such.

Edited: Ethan Chandler is gone. And suddenly I do not wish to go on this date anymore. I do not feel like doing anything.

I always thought I had a good memory, paying close attention to detail and the ability to recall random facts at will. However, something must have happened because now I'm very certain that I possess a super brain! I've recited the new Star Wars movie word for word for Kate and Noah. I can only imagine how this will impact my future books! Gone are the days of checking continuity, every detail is already there and waiting to be accessed.

I've found the seventh circle of hell: Trader Joe's the day before a blizzard. I stopped by to pick up two things and have broken up no fewer than three fights over, of all things, tortilla chips, boxes of instant mac and cheese, and $4.49 bottles of wine.

If I could arrest the entire store for being a public nuisance, I would.

Apparently January is the month for nightmares. Can't say I'm really a big fan of the dream world.

Or the television world.

You know, like you used to think about your future and think, well heck, how good is it going to be, or how much of a mess am I going to make it out to be? And here, you don't have to have the question - you just get to watch it all unfold on the screen and the front of USA Today.

Good times.

Let's put it this way: the only thing I like about January is my son's birthday.

Hell of a month. Even worse week. If there is a worse thing than hell.

My adorable, spunky and hilarious son is an entire year old today. I had no idea what I was doing then he popped into the world, and most days I still don't, but my already wonderful life has been made so much better by this kid who gives so much and asks for nothing more than done snuggles and some snacks. I'm so grateful to have him, and to have a husband who was willing to do this with me, and who has been the cornerstone of making this thing work as it does.

Happy Birthday, Noah. You are so loved, and one day, when your old enough to read I'll show you this so you can roll your eyes and talk about how overly sentimental your mom is.

This Christmas has taught me a valuable parenting lesson: pay someone else to assemble the toys. And save the wine for after you finish. It's hard to put together a Lego Millennium Falcon when you've had a bit too much to drink. Please keep in mind that my child isn't even a year old , he isn't going to remember any of this, and cared far more about the boxes that contained the presents he unwrapped than the ones we put together for some inane reason.

Parenting makes you crazy. That's the moral of this story.

[Filtered to friends/family/other parents of small children that would know Noah*]
Noah's first birthday party will be Jan 2 at 2 p.m. at our apartment. Believe me when I tell you that he's gotten plenty of toys for Christmas, so you aren't obligated to bring him more. Books would be a great gift, if you just really want to buy him something. Those big ones that are meant for little hands, or the short story type. He loves for Castle and I to read to him. But you are welcome to just show up, eat some cake, and marvel at the fact this kid has somehow managed to grow so much in such a short time. I'm not sure how it happened, but it seems that it has.

[* if you want to be on the filter, you are on the filter.]