paradisalost | Entries tagged with !intro

justpouncing.livejournal.com

[ Dictated; after the sounds of things crashing and breaking are done with... ]

Wh—what's going on?! Timon?! Pumbaa! Where are you guys?

[ There are even more sounds now, little paws scrambling about, things being knocked over, claws scratching at the walls, windows, and door. ]

This isn't funny, you guys! Where did you put me? Let me out of here! Is this some sort of test?! I thought we were friends already! ...Oh wait, then does that mean I'm failing? I'm not supposed to panic, right?

Okay, okay! Hakuna Matata! I'm fine. Keep me in here as long as you want, I'll definitely pass! [ A beat, then more quietly. ] I wonder if there's any food in here... This is a really weird looking cave.

[ ooc; Lion cub in the lobby, if you wanna run into him! Dictated as well. It's not like he can open doors... ]

checklisting.livejournal.com

[ It's been about five minutes since the castle residents got back from Paris. Time for a new ~~pony~~ person to make an appearance!

The journal is, naturally, open as the castle's newest resident comes to. There's the typical gasp of shock, the sound of clamoring, and... hooves on tile?

These sounds are shortly followed by an almost hysterical girl's voice. ]

This isn't the library! What's going on?

It almost looks like Canterlot, but that can't be possible. We're not supposed to go there until tomorrow, and I would certainly remember if we set out early...

Is this a prank? [ She actually begins to sound relieved there. ] It must be. Rainbow Dash? Pinkie Pie? This is all your doing, right?

[ And, after a moment, she begins to sound panicky again. ]

No, this is way too much for a prank.

[ And then... a smack. She just smacked herself. With a hoof, yes. ] No, pull yourself together, Twilight! You have to figure this out! There's obviously magic at work here, and magic is your special talent! You can do this!

[ Somepony please interrupt her. She's going to go crazy. ]

incantati.livejournal.com

[ hello, paris-disa.

on a random corner of a random street in one of the not-very-well-to-do parts of town, you'll find this young redheaded man standing, handing out lunchboxes, (croque monsieurs and a salad) little drinks and desserts to the homeless. and pretty much anyone else who asks for one. he's pleasant and smiling, greeting everyone with a kind 'joyeuse fêtes!' every once in a while, he's greeted by a couple kids; anyone with a rudimentary understanding of french will gather that he teaches at their school.

there's also a little collection box at his feet; the label says that the proceeds go towards a charity organisation for the less fortunate.

come get some free food, or GIVE A LITTLE. it's christmas, after all. :) ]

[ ooc; happy holidays, and merry christmas, paradisa! je vous fais de grosses bises ♥ open post, of course. ]

isbritishgov.livejournal.com

[Arriving in Paris was not wholly unexpected, it was business after all. The private hanger as well was to be expected. As were the two well dressed individuals exiting it.

The man turns his head, tilted slightly to the woman in the hanger with him.]

What is the, agenda for our stay here?

[She'd been in the process of rifling through her purse for her Blackberry. She begins rattling off the itinerary from memory.]

You've a meeting at 2 with—

[Wait. Her eyebrows crept together as she discovered something terrifying. She could not find her phone. It was not in the pocket it was usually in. She dug through the belly of the bag itself, but couldn't feel the smooth plastic. Pulling the bag from her shoulder, she wrenched it open.]

Sorry, sir, one moment.

[That earns her even more a head tilt, and he pauses in his walking to lean on his umbrella, thinking. Seeing her like this, well that spelled trouble.]

You've lost your phone.

[That in and of itself was odd, and he couldn't fathom how it had happened. She had had it on the flight, he was certain of it.]

Did you by chance leave it on the plane?

[Always a possibility.]

[If she were the type she would have upended her purse on the tarmac. Since she was not the type, she settled for shaking the bag once as if that would magically dislodge her phone from wherever it was.]

I remember putting it in my purse.

[Could it have fallen out at some point? But she was always so careful with it. How could this happen and now of all times? The shaking did not reveal her phone, but it did bring a journal that was definitely not hers into view. She took it out, eyebrows rising. After turning it over, she held it out to him.]

Might this be yours?

[Seeing the journal makes him frown momentarily, straightening his posture to slide a hand inside his jacket, feeling for the familiar book. Finding it he stares at the journal for a few more seconds before hooking his umbrella on his arm, taking the journal.]

No, I have my book in my pocket.

[But he does start turning it over, looking at it over, before casually flipping through the pages, his mind working. Just what was this about now?]

How curious, that this would be in your purse. And yet your phone is, missing.

I'll have a look on the plane. I'm sorry, sir, I'll be quick.

[She walked quickly back to the jet. She had half a mind to turn the thing upside-down until her phone appeared. She could not afford to lose it.]

[He gave her half a wave as she disappeared into the jet, his eyes fixed on the journal. Now wasn't all of this interesting?

It took some time for him, mostly as it was, in fact, a bit to take in what he was reading. People talking, unusual events, just what had they come into? A madhouse? Some, drug induced delirium? Whatever it was it was interesting, and that, above all is why he writes the note in the journal with a pen he digs out from his jacket.]

Seem to have, arrived here with little information as to where, besides the obvious location of Paris. However, from what little I have read, this is, not the native place of many here. I am curious, as to how you have come to be here.

And if any would happen to know if the airport here has a reputation for losing items, I would be grateful if you informed me.

[That done he goes back to looking through the journal.]

[She rejoined him after a while, more than a bit perturbed. Once she reached him, she shook her head.]

Can't find it. I have a back-up schedule on my e-mail.

[Now that she had nothing to occupy herself with, she felt oddly naked. She tried to mask her discomfort, but knew Mycroft could probably tell.

[He nods, eyes still on the journal for the present moment as he debates, thinking, before handing her the journal, sliding his umbrella off his wrist to lean on it once more. He sees that discomfort, and he knows he can't do much but let her read for herself.

This really isn't their Paris.]

As you read this I do believe you will find there are, far more important things at work here other than your missing phone.

((ooc: Open journal intro! Alcy and I will both tag when we can.))

assassino

[The ground has changed, abruptly.

Ezio registers it just in time to pivot his body in the air and reach out to grab the nearest building ledge, which happens to be a gargoyle leaning over the edge of the roof. The tower he was just diving from, the water below, the whole of Venice, has vanished, and now he's above some castle on a snowy white hill.

His shoulders scream and his fingers burn through his gloves as he comes to an abrupt halt. He barely muffles a yelp of surprise and discomfort. It'll hurt in the morning, but save the racing heartbeat, he's fine. Dangling ten stories above ground, but fine.

Ezio takes a second to consider his options before hauling himself up, and he manages to get himself up on the rooftop. Once safely up top, he peers over the edge, and then around him.

This is not Venice.

Residents of Paradisa, have a startled-sounding young man with a heavy Italian accent.]

What is this?! Where am I?

fashioneighble.livejournal.com

[there is the sound of some hooves on a hard floor, pacing back and forth. the journal is open on the floor of a certain pony's suite ...]

But I had just left Canterlot! How in the world did I get back here! And for that matter, where are all my bags? And this isn't the suite that Princess Celestia so graciously provided for me …

[there's a few more sounds of hooves across the floor as she moves towards the window] And it's … snowing? What is going on here? I couldn't have slept that long … !

[she'll dash across the room to the closet, opening the doors with a bang]

… And none of these are mine, either! In fact, I wouldn't be caught dead in most of this! What sort of prank is this?? Rainbow Dash?? Hello?

[a very indignant, dainty huff and a stomp of the hoof goes here. help a pony out, paradisa?]

mamadirewolf.livejournal.com

[If anyone is out on the castle grounds this morning, they will notice a new face. At least she's dressed for the weather; in fact, she makes a rather striking figure in her fur lined cloak.

One moment Catelyn Stark was staring at Jamie Lannister’s smug face and the next she was standing in front of a castle, still holding the bloodied rock in her gloved hand. She lets it fall to the ground, staining the snow with traces of the Kingslayer’s blood. Her eyes are transfixed on the castle, but her gaze is distant. Eventually, she comes to the only logical conclusion and speaks it aloud, not knowing that the journal is there to record her every word.]

I’ve gone mad at last.

[It’s hardly surprising. She’s been hanging on by a thread for some time now. And since she heard about Ned…well, she had felt that she might lose her senses, even if she didn’t actually expect to. But Catelyn is a sensible woman, mad or not, and she has no intention of remaining out in the cold, even in her own delusions. So, slowly, moving as a woman within a dream (or perhaps a nightmare), she’ll start towards the castle, the Stark motto ringing in her head. “Winter is Coming,” it went. Well, for her, at least, winter was here.]

[ooc: Kissing is not recommended. It probably doesn't need to be said, but she's not in a good mental place. Open over the journal (it'll catch up with her or she'll notice it) or in person anywhere from the grounds to the castle.]

myheartwontgoon.livejournal.com

[Balthazar wakes up on the floor of his room in Paradisa, having no idea where he is, and assuming he is dead because, you know, Cas stabbed him in the back.]

Well this is unpleasant.

[Sounds of shuffling can be heard as Balthazar struggles to sit up from the awkward position he landed in.]

Castiel? What was that for?

[A pause as he looks around.]

Cas? What did you do?

[A sigh is heard.]

Cas, I’m sorry, it was for your own good.

[There is a rustle that sounds like wings, and then a groan.]

Oh for the love of…

[Another pause.]

I’m a bloody mud monkey!

detectivegenius.livejournal.com

[Tim wakes up in a room that looks fancy enough to fit right in at Wayne Manor... but it isn't Wayne Manor. The last thing he remembers is being with the Titans... Maybe this was a joke and they've kidnapped him somewhere? But no, if they'd moved him, he would have woken up, he would have realized he was being moved... Maybe he's been captured, knocked out somehow? But then where's his costume? Did someone unmasked him and placed him here? He doesn't like that thought at all. Too many questions.

After poking around the room to see if he can find any answers lying around, he finds the journal and after studying it for a bit, realizes what it does.]

... An... apparently magical journal that lets you communicate with other people. Is this for real? [Oh, hey, it's writing down what he's saying, that's... really weird.]

[Well, it doesn't look like he's the only one here... wherever here is. Maybe he can get some answers from others. But first he has another question, to find out if there's anyone around that he trusts.]

Is anyone from Gotham City? Or knows of it?

blackhawkmage.livejournal.com

--st be some sort of magic. A book that writes what I say; then it does have a bit of magic on it. Yet why would there be a book with my name in it, seemingly for the purpose of writing what I say, that only has one page left to fill? That seems rather pointless.

No matter. It is not that important right now. For now, I must find my way out of this castle and then figure out where exactly it is that I have wound up.

Surely there is an exit around here somewhere.

hipstertastic.livejournal.com

[Consider this troll one part fascinated and one point completely and utterly pissed off. He still remembers his rather unfortunate scrape with Kanaya, which of course is the point of his frustration, but he can't get over the fact he's suddenly not dead. Plus he has legs, that was pretty cool too. Still, if he died and yet is suddenly fully conscious that would imply this is some kind of afterlife, which was nonsense. Stuff like that isn't real. There has to be some kind of other reason. Some kind of logical explanation involving science and...and other things he knew was real.

So he'll start exploring the castle cautiously, mainly because he was lacking any kind of weapon to defend himself with right now, but for all of his attempts to sneak around unnoticed he's going to announce his presence to pretty much everyone by speaking rather loudly, in some kind of shallow attempt to keep himself looking completely and utterly fearless, alongside the fact his words are being transcribed into the journal with every word he speaks.]

so i reely havve no clue wwhats goin on here but at the same time this doesnt mean im about to just fuckin roll ovver an take this wwhole kidnappin thing lightly so wwhoevver the fuck is the one behind this you better fess up soon or else youre gonna havve one fuckin irritable troll on your hands you do not wwanna mess wwith

an i swwear if i hear any a this fuckin magical afterlife stuff wwhale i can appreciate the fact i seem to be in the place all the people wwho deservved to livve it up after death cause of their hard cycles they had to endure im still not goin to believve any a that hornbeast shit ok im a man a science an wwe arent that easy to fool

atadiscoverer

[There's a sudden yell from the pages of the journal, as if someone is being hurt, before it abruptly cuts off.

There's a few seconds of silence, before a panicky, Scottish-accented voice comes.]

What the bloody-? Where am-?

[A pause] Rodney? Col. Sheppard? ...Elizabeth? Anyone?

Oh, bloody hell... [There's a low groan] My head...

[Carson finds himself in a room, sitting up on the floor. A journal lies nearby, open for the whole world to hear...]

((OOC: Feel free to interact with Beckett, he'll be glad of someone to talk to.))

n0thing-is-fair.livejournal.com

[Jon Snow leaned down to pet his direwolf. Ghost made a contented noise, and Jon smiled. They shared a bond that no one but he and the wolf could understand. Jon straightened and gasped. This was definitely not the Wall or Castle Black. Panic time. He takes out Longclaw, the sword Lord Commander Jeor Mormont had given him. Ghost takes a glance about Jon’s room and growls. Jon doesn’t notice this at first, but the journal is laying open nearby.]

What’s going on? Who has brought me here? Show yourself or, I swear by the Gods, I will find you!

[He notices the journal and picks it up, flipping through it. He notices his name on it. After a moment, he’ll go exploring, sword drawn and snarling direwolf by his side (and the journal will be with him.) So, open in person or over journals. ^^ ]

withmymind

[ There's a scream across the journal, a very panicked, female scream. If you know enough to tell that voice also happens to belong to a young girl. She's scared, the unfamiliar place, sounds and items exacerbating those fears ]

N-no. Don't want to sleep. Don't want to be gone, can't make me.

[ If you were able to see anything you'd see that the young girl is curled into a ball, arms resting over her face, muffling her words slightly ]

Didn't mean to. Wasn't my fault, didn't want to hurt them. Don't make me go.

[ It's then when something clicks. Messages, feelings that she'd not listened to and then the lack of Serenity's distinctive hum. The confused babbling stops for a moment, but when the girls speaks again the panic to her tone has increased. One of her many thoughts is that they've got her - the Alliance. They found her, turned her into a killer and took her away ]

Simon?

Simon?

No. No!

Gone. Not our place, thrown out to the wolves. Can't stay here. It's so loud, everything's so loud, can't make it stop.

Simon!

[ That final word turns to a pained cry. Lost. Alone ]

[ ooc; for those that want to action with her she's in the clinic :3 ]

oncewinged

[ There's a soft clearing of a throat, before a smooth, accented voice begins. ] I'm hardly going to say that this is the first time I've been… surprised with a sudden visit to an exotic location. Then again, London is hardly an exotic land, even in its many forms. Mm, over the years. Though I'm sure I'm bound to ruffle a few feathers, regardless of where I've been placed. It seems to be my prerogative, as it were. Bored and all that.

When you've lived for such a long time, "easily bored" becomes its own symptom, though it really is far beyond ease at this point.

It goes without saying that I'm not thrilled about this turn of "exciting" events. [ A pause. ] Well.

Not yet, anyway.

stateofatrophy.livejournal.com

Who: House and YOU
What: Arriving at the castle
When: Today!
Where: The clinic first and later wandering the castle. In your tag, let me know where we're at!
Notes: Actionspam welcome if you prefer

( you better chase all your cares away )

asmallamoroso.livejournal.com

[ The lobby of the Castle was the ideal place to observe people as they come and go. And because Haibara had found herself in this place abruptly it was needless to say that she was panicking.

Having no recollection as to how she had gotten here her immediate first thought was that of the Organization. This was, however, quickly dismissed. For starters, if they had found her, there was a better chance of her being dead instead of alive at this point. And if they did keep her alive, she certainly would not have been free to move around. Not to mention this place was nothing they would own. So it was logical enough for her to assume that Gin was not anywhere around here, neither was Vermouth or anyone else.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to feel any less nervous as she watched people come and go with wide-eyes. This was the sort of thing she could see happening in the video games the kids played, not in reality. So now the 'child' was hovering to the side of the lobby, trying to stay out of sight with the journal she had found herself with tucked under her arm. Flipping through the journal just a few minutes before had offered a few answers but most of it was difficult for her to believe. ]

buysmilk.livejournal.com

Sherlock...? [ He was right there, right--

John leans his head back, hitting the wall of the lobby with a soft thunk. This isn't happening. It can't be. There's no sane explanation to how he went from a darkened pool to some sort of tacky, medieval hotel lobby. (That's what it is right? Yeah, it has to be) ]

Alright, just--just breathe. [ It's harder than it sounds, though by some miracle he manages it. Shame it doesn't do anything to change his current predicament. He's still in the lobby, crouched up against a wall with his legs refusing to do what his adrenaline addled brain wants them to do and Sherlock's still not where he's supposed to be.

This was not how his evening was supposed to go. ]

lohacse.livejournal.com

what

deathsizing.livejournal.com

[Not too long ago, he'd finally regained consciousness. As to from what, well. He hadn't reached that conclusion yet. No, more likely he was concerned with further pressing matters, such as where he was and who/what he was dealing with. The typical situational assessment. When he'd woken up to an empty room without so much as a mark (asides from the risidual aftermath on the cruise liner run-- a few red splotches on the collar and his hands where he'd taken hold of Liu's sleeve, by what seemed only moments before), he managed to reach the conclusion that his life wasn't in any immediate danger. Warily, he'd gotten up and about to scanning the nearby areas in the castle. The architecture wasn't familiar at all, a great contrast from the initial cramped industrialized areas under Dragon Head's watch. He'd jumped to the conclusion that it was largely European, not that he'd had an eye for such things. But it was the only possible explainable alternative. Which meant that this could have ties to some people he really didn't get involved with anymore. Not that he had in the first place, which had caused the whole mess with probably pissing off his boss and leading to several more acts of unpleasantness. It couldn't be a prisoner situation, and if they were looking for compensation, they were horrible at keeping their captives in one place. This seemed like a seperate ordeal entirely.

JJ had managed to avoid running into people so far. When he heard someone come up one hallway, he'd go down another. This really wasn't helping to keep a mental map, but he had a good sense of direction initially, so he'd be able to...

Purple eyes settled on an oddly familiar black leather cover sitting right in the middle of the floor. Hadn't he passed that same journal just before? Or, it looked like something he might have seen where he'd first woken up in that empty room. Taking exaggerated care to walk around the object, he continued on his way, only to run across a similarly displayed journal a moment later. Frowning, JJ gave a cautionary glance around. Did people ususally leave these out in the open like this? He knelt down briefly to inspect it. The cover appeared to be blank. Unless someone was following him and meant for him to find it..? At that, JJ went back into a standing position, journal in hand and giving a cautious glance over his shoulder. Once he figured he was alone, he stood off to the side and opened the journal. A plethora of different writing styles littered the pages that the journal fell open to. In no way did any of the writing seem relevant to what might be going on partaining to him, whatsoever. It seemed more like menial chatting. Had the journal been passed around..? The man's muttered tone held a hint of confusion as he thought out loud. ] ... Just what was the point of..? [His expression fell blank as the unfinished sentence filled itself out on the page, an audible sound of mixed discomfort and realization following. This was a joke, right? He tilted the journal in hand, flipping through pages and inspecting it for some sort of rediculous recording device that would allow for such an anomaly. Hopefully the recording wasn't being transmitted elsewhere..?]

[[ooc: action&&dictation, at this point. am i doin dis rite.;; ]]

About the Archive

"Paradisa Lost" is the archive of what the journals contained between December 1st, 2006 and January 10th, 2012. On that final day, Paradisa issued new journals, so that the residents could fill them up again. While there are still residents around who have old journals, we have chosen to preserve the old journals here for muns' reference and history.

"Lost" in the title refers to both the old journals that the residents once kept, and also to our move to Dreamwidth from the original Livejournal community, where Paradisa started. It is a fresh start for muns, as well as for the characters.

calendar ✖ character tags ✖ back to OOC ✖ back to PARADISA

PARADISA LOST

the archives, 2006-2012

Entries tagged with !intro

first lesson;

Chapter one

Ϟ one.

001

I Λ Introduction

♢01

(no subject)

~001 Fallen Angels

[Voice]

001

001

001 ~ Dictated

one

first problem [ dictated / action ]

o1 ✞ voice ✞ dictated

forget your troubles, come on, get happy

» one

ᴏɴᴇ

ｔｅｘｔ；　ｏｏ１

.001}}

About the Archive