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paixaorpg2010-05-16 08:45 pm
righteouspilot.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2010-05-16 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
We're Going Down [Active/Open]
Character(s): Trudy Chacon, Open
Content: DEATH is wandering around Halloweentown, exploring despite the fact that he looks like he belongs. Have fun.
Setting: Joutenheim Gate
Time: Week 21
Warnings: Lengthy?
Her eyes had stopped clenching when her skin felt like it had stopped burning. Her rattling flight seat had suddenly dissipated and her bottom rested on powder-soft sand on a remote beach. She felt the slightest hint of skepticism in thinking of the newfound tropical locale as her new reality. Yet, once she had recognized that her senses had not attempted to fool her in some form of hallucination, she quickly placed herself back into a typical mindset of cautious awareness. When the sand caked against her hand and forehead from the sudden cold sweat, she scanned the area for possible hostiles before taking the opportunity to walk to the water and wipe it away. She noted her reflection on the water, seeing the warpaint still smeared across her face as a symbol of her solidarity to the Na'vi cause and helping the rebels of the RDA. She hesitated to wash it off considering its symbolic power in what she could only call a "post death" experience but ended up rationalizing herself into getting refreshment before sticking to kamikaze sentiments.
She finally noticed a gate with a hoard of people in line in front of it, moving along nicely, and the wondrous looking city behind it. When she had walked over from the water, she brushed herself off and straightened her hair in the event that she had look respectable in order to get anywhere that had answers about this new place. She tried to get on her toes and peer over some of the taller people in her way, but ultimately remained patient and sullen as she had to piece together details while coming closer to the entrance. She slowly heard stray bits about a place with a strange name, something about a jouranl, and heard some others talking about their backstories. It seemed that some had felt abducted, while others had felt like she did: as though they were in an afterlife of some sort. She then heard a different voice, one that was calm but had a bit of strict business-like tone thrown in. When she finally came to the front of the line, she was busy looking at the bustling streets in front of her to notice that the source of the calm voice had been yelling to get her attention.
"MISS. Name" he asked exasperatingly. "Trudy Chacon, at your service," she said while giving a half-sincere salute. The strange looking man beside her didn't look up from his register and instead handed her a small device. "Here's your journal. Welcome to Paixao." She began looking around with a puzzled expression and was about to inquire further into what this place was, but just as soon as she had turned to him, he had been sorting through the business of three other new arrivals. "What's wrong with a little adventure?" she asked herself, and went into the city streets with a small wry grin.
Content: DEATH is wandering around Halloweentown, exploring despite the fact that he looks like he belongs. Have fun.
Setting: Joutenheim Gate
Time: Week 21
Warnings: Lengthy?
Her eyes had stopped clenching when her skin felt like it had stopped burning. Her rattling flight seat had suddenly dissipated and her bottom rested on powder-soft sand on a remote beach. She felt the slightest hint of skepticism in thinking of the newfound tropical locale as her new reality. Yet, once she had recognized that her senses had not attempted to fool her in some form of hallucination, she quickly placed herself back into a typical mindset of cautious awareness. When the sand caked against her hand and forehead from the sudden cold sweat, she scanned the area for possible hostiles before taking the opportunity to walk to the water and wipe it away. She noted her reflection on the water, seeing the warpaint still smeared across her face as a symbol of her solidarity to the Na'vi cause and helping the rebels of the RDA. She hesitated to wash it off considering its symbolic power in what she could only call a "post death" experience but ended up rationalizing herself into getting refreshment before sticking to kamikaze sentiments.
She finally noticed a gate with a hoard of people in line in front of it, moving along nicely, and the wondrous looking city behind it. When she had walked over from the water, she brushed herself off and straightened her hair in the event that she had look respectable in order to get anywhere that had answers about this new place. She tried to get on her toes and peer over some of the taller people in her way, but ultimately remained patient and sullen as she had to piece together details while coming closer to the entrance. She slowly heard stray bits about a place with a strange name, something about a jouranl, and heard some others talking about their backstories. It seemed that some had felt abducted, while others had felt like she did: as though they were in an afterlife of some sort. She then heard a different voice, one that was calm but had a bit of strict business-like tone thrown in. When she finally came to the front of the line, she was busy looking at the bustling streets in front of her to notice that the source of the calm voice had been yelling to get her attention.
"MISS. Name" he asked exasperatingly. "Trudy Chacon, at your service," she said while giving a half-sincere salute. The strange looking man beside her didn't look up from his register and instead handed her a small device. "Here's your journal. Welcome to Paixao." She began looking around with a puzzled expression and was about to inquire further into what this place was, but just as soon as she had turned to him, he had been sorting through the business of three other new arrivals. "What's wrong with a little adventure?" she asked herself, and went into the city streets with a small wry grin.