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Basic permissions and quick character overviews are in profiles. Contact posts and screened HMDs (sometimes combined) can be found at the individual journals. Some journals also contain more detailed permissions and headcanon summaries - I'm gradually trying to put more of these up.
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sheltronymous2021-03-29 08:43 pmEntry tags:
woof
[How this scenario came about is left as an exercise for the reader. Timeline divergences work in mysterious ways, none of which even the Ancients knew enough about to predict, let alone the Crystal Exarch in all his quietly desperate scheming. It doesn't matter. There are two Warriors of Light who never met each other prior to Elidibus's death, the situation may eventually resolve itself according to the unknown laws of spatiotemporal inertia, Urianger is too tied up in other affairs right now to puzzle out exactly how the Scions came to acquire two slightly different sets of memories upon their return to the Source, and nobody else cares.
What matters is that Narengawa "no, the shorter Warrior of Light" Kha just walked back into the Rising Stones, a crumpled package from the Ul'dahn Miners' Guild buried somewhere at the bottom of her much-abused backpack, and found a dog. A small, white dog, far fluffier and less practical-looking than any hunting hound she ever spent some small part of her childhood with.
It's sitting on top of the otherwise deserted bar counter, surrounded by muddy paw prints and scratch marks. It yips excitedly at her, wagging its tail. She looks down at it. She looks behind her. She notes, a minute too late, that stepping on the trail of pawprints leading from the entrance to the counter has smeared them impressively widely across the stone floor; F'lhaminn won't be very happy about that.
She looks down at the dog again, frowning.]
...Alphinaud, is that you?
[Alphinaud is not here, having been called away to Lake Silvertear to speak with an Alliance representative less than a bell ago. Nor is his sister, who got restless waiting for him to bring back tidings from the Ghimlyt front and left to go take out her impatience on a wild morbol. There is only this dog.]
What matters is that Narengawa "no, the shorter Warrior of Light" Kha just walked back into the Rising Stones, a crumpled package from the Ul'dahn Miners' Guild buried somewhere at the bottom of her much-abused backpack, and found a dog. A small, white dog, far fluffier and less practical-looking than any hunting hound she ever spent some small part of her childhood with.
It's sitting on top of the otherwise deserted bar counter, surrounded by muddy paw prints and scratch marks. It yips excitedly at her, wagging its tail. She looks down at it. She looks behind her. She notes, a minute too late, that stepping on the trail of pawprints leading from the entrance to the counter has smeared them impressively widely across the stone floor; F'lhaminn won't be very happy about that.
She looks down at the dog again, frowning.]
...Alphinaud, is that you?
[Alphinaud is not here, having been called away to Lake Silvertear to speak with an Alliance representative less than a bell ago. Nor is his sister, who got restless waiting for him to bring back tidings from the Ghimlyt front and left to go take out her impatience on a wild morbol. There is only this dog.]
Entry tags:
owosuke what's this
[The setting: Generic Modern-ish Jamjar #845. The time: about five minutes after one of the other girls Yosuke is vaguely acquainted with told him via text that she already had plans. The mood of the day: weakly cheerful resignation.
Xion is a long shot at best. They know each other's names, or at least he thinks she remembers his. She is at least pretty cute, too. You gotta shoot for the moon sometimes if you want the stars! ...Is that how the saying goes? More importantly, the alternative is having nothing to do on his afternoon off, so...]
Hey!!
may b kinda out of the blue
what kind of food u like?
Xion is a long shot at best. They know each other's names, or at least he thinks she remembers his. She is at least pretty cute, too. You gotta shoot for the moon sometimes if you want the stars! ...Is that how the saying goes? More importantly, the alternative is having nothing to do on his afternoon off, so...]
Hey!!
may b kinda out of the blue
what kind of food u like?
jammingway2018-09-02 03:23 pm🐱 IT'S A CAT CAFE OPEN POST 🐱
Whoever you are, wherever you're from, sometimes you just want to hang out in a room full of cats. Sometimes all you need is a hot drink and a little space to relax. And sometimes, you want both of these at the same time. Good thing you found your way here, to the chillest cat cafe in the multiverse! Part eatery, part adoption centre, part kitschy plush decor, kittens, senior cats, longhairs, shorthairs, all cats all the time.
On posters around the cafe walls, the rules:
🐈 Do not feed the cats! No matter how much they beg for it!
🐈 Do not push the cats off of chairs or equipment! The equipment is not for customers! Even if you are also a cat.
🐈 Do not carry hot food or drinks around the cafe - there are tables for that!
🐈 Do not pick up the cats or wake sleeping cats!
🐈 No flash photography.
🐈 If a member of staff notices you breaking any of these rules, they will ask you to leave.
PURROMPTS
- FIRST VISIT. Never been to one of these establishments before? That's okay, there's always a friendly staffer around to show you to a seat, point you to the restrooms, demonstrate how to play with a cat wand, gently encourage you to buy drinks - perhaps you'll meet someone else in the same boat?
- REGULAR CUSTOMER. You know the drill, they know how you take your coffee and the cats know your scent. Fortunately, there's always some new kind of trouble to watch the cats get into.
- EMPLOYEE. Someone has to make the drinks, feed the cats and clean up after the messier patrons. The pay is decent, but as with any service job, the customers can be a Russian (Blue) roulette at times.
- RISK TAKER, RULE BREAKER. Perhaps that less than model customer is you. How can you resist surrendering a bite of your salad to these big round kitten eyes? What if you simply have to scoop up one of these beautifully soft fuzzballs in your arms? Well, just don't get caught.
- ADOPTION DRIVE. Today, volunteers from the local cat rescue have set up a stall and some pamphlets inside the building, just in case you were on the fence about taking one of these kitties home. And if you're up for giving one of them a home, why not two? Here, take this Kitty Starter Kit bag full of toys and treats while you're at it.
- UNUSUAL CAT. There are more kinds of cats who need homes than your standard street moggies. Is that a velvety-smooth Cornish Rex purring in the corner over there? A hyperactive Bengal kitten zooming across the cat shelves? ...A bobcat??
- WILDCA(T)RD. It's cats! Cats cats cats.
a pizza your mind
[A pizza box draws near.
This is not to say it is necessarily an unusual pizza box. In relativistic spatial terms, there is nothing strange about a pizza box drawing nearer to an observer while remaining perfectly still from its own table-top perspective, cooling gently. Taking a wider view, everything molecule inside the box was once part of something alive, and is with the exception of the cheese biodegradable enough to one day be alive again.
But it is notable in that there is a small, white dog curled up on top of it, drooling slightly as it dreams its doggy dreams. It's fast asleep...]
This is not to say it is necessarily an unusual pizza box. In relativistic spatial terms, there is nothing strange about a pizza box drawing nearer to an observer while remaining perfectly still from its own table-top perspective, cooling gently. Taking a wider view, everything molecule inside the box was once part of something alive, and is with the exception of the cheese biodegradable enough to one day be alive again.
But it is notable in that there is a small, white dog curled up on top of it, drooling slightly as it dreams its doggy dreams. It's fast asleep...]
Entry tags:
FFXIV WoL OC profiles
 | J'rizhan Tia left home to seek freedom and self-identity in the world of academia, but his careful plans didn't account for the culture shock. Running low on funds and prospects in Limsa Lominsa, he threw his lot in with the Adventurer's Guild as a last-ditch measure, only to find himself well and truly bitten by the wanderlust bug. Wide-eyed and easily carried away despite his taciturn exterior, he believes that he deserves to go down in history someday, and he'll make it there by meticulously documenting the length and breadth of the realm... though exactly what he deems necessary to write about today is probably not what he'll write about tomorrow. Name Pronunciation: juh-RHEE-zuhn [dʒə.'ʁiː.zən] Nickname(s): Rizhan, Riz, Jay Quick Facts: Race: Miqo'te Clan: Seekers of the Sun, Jackal tribe Height: Average Age: 26 Nameday: 17th Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon Guardian Deity: Llymlaen, the Navigator City-State: Limsa Lominsa Grand Company: The Maelstrom IC Classes/Jobs: Warrior, Scholar, Botanist |
 | Izuna's solemn, disciplined appearance is at odds with his blatant daydreaming, fondness for rambling about unconnected topics and overall worrying spaceyness for someone whose career involves aiding the sick and injured. He's capable of a friendly if unreliable-looking smile under the direst of circumstances, holding fast to the philosophy that life will be what it will be. Yet his fatalistic streak runs deeper than it seems, and he never speaks of his life, family or combat training in the years before Eorzea's Calamity. Name Pronunciation: IH-zoo-na KAH-sa-NOO-ee [idzɯna kasaɲɯi] (傘縫のイズナ Kasanui-no-Izuna) Nickname(s): Izzie, Uncle Quick Facts: Race: Au Ra Clan: Raen Height: Tall Age: 32 Nameday: 25th Sun of the Third Astral Moon Guardian Deity: Nymeia, the Spinner City-State: Gridania Grand Company: Unaffiliated IC Classes/Jobs: Astrologian, White Mage, Machinist, Lancer |
Entry tags:
- *fic,
- ff,
- ff: xiv,
- ff: xiv: oc
wip
Characters: Syhrthota Lynahlwyn, J'rizhan Tia
Content: gore
( What J'rizhan Tia Levelled On His Holidas by me age 8 )
Content: gore
( What J'rizhan Tia Levelled On His Holidas by me age 8 )
Entry tags:
pursuing my true pacifist
[The world of humans has changed a lot from what Toriel remembers. Then again, so has the world of monsters - their worldview, really. The sky is so much wider than a narrow stone ceiling.
What endures is that the little, quiet corners matter just as much as the bustling population centres, to monsters and humans alike. They matter to Toriel; in some strange way, the mountainside scenery reminds her of other places she once knew thousands of years ago. And they matter to the up-and-coming ambassador to the humans, which is why they're on this world tour to begin with.
At least, this sleepy country town mattered to the ambassador up until half a minute ago, when they noticed a fox dart into a hedge and let out a squeal of delight. They are about ten years old.]
You will not wander too far, will you?
[They nod enthusiastically, and she smiles, reaching down to give their hair another ruffle before they can barrel away.]
All right. Play safely, my child.
[And off they go towards the shrine, paying no attention to either the faintly wistful look on her face or the whispers that have followed the two of them since they walked into the shopping district.
After a moment of quiet, Toriel turns away from the shrine entrance and pads towards the closest store, her pace slow and deliberately dignified. Perhaps she can find the child a hairbrush...]
What endures is that the little, quiet corners matter just as much as the bustling population centres, to monsters and humans alike. They matter to Toriel; in some strange way, the mountainside scenery reminds her of other places she once knew thousands of years ago. And they matter to the up-and-coming ambassador to the humans, which is why they're on this world tour to begin with.
At least, this sleepy country town mattered to the ambassador up until half a minute ago, when they noticed a fox dart into a hedge and let out a squeal of delight. They are about ten years old.]
You will not wander too far, will you?
[They nod enthusiastically, and she smiles, reaching down to give their hair another ruffle before they can barrel away.]
All right. Play safely, my child.
[And off they go towards the shrine, paying no attention to either the faintly wistful look on her face or the whispers that have followed the two of them since they walked into the shopping district.
After a moment of quiet, Toriel turns away from the shrine entrance and pads towards the closest store, her pace slow and deliberately dignified. Perhaps she can find the child a hairbrush...]
rewritethis2016-01-15 11:14 pmEntry tags:
whoosh.
[Life goes on. Peace treaties can bring one kind of end to a war, but they still need to be carried out. Promises can be made, but they have to be kept.
None of this explains why, on this damp late spring day, Edward is scaling the walls of Garden instead of walking inside the normal way. He's doing well, though. He had to work his way around in a shaky spiral rather than launch himself straight up - physics is annoying like that - but he's reached the upper floor of this wing of the dorms, and he's still going. One window sill at a time, but still going.
There's no force in this world that can stop him once he has his mind set on something. His metal elbow scrapes some splinters off a ledge that was only repainted recently, but that's a natural hazard when they do such a rush job. Someone sticks their head out of a window below him to glare pointedly up, and he just looks pointedly away -
- wait just a damn minute, the window above is his room, he left it locked, why is she in there, how did she already -
- which means the next thing his hand meets is empty air. Which means he drops like a stone.
Welp. Life goes on, but not forever.]
None of this explains why, on this damp late spring day, Edward is scaling the walls of Garden instead of walking inside the normal way. He's doing well, though. He had to work his way around in a shaky spiral rather than launch himself straight up - physics is annoying like that - but he's reached the upper floor of this wing of the dorms, and he's still going. One window sill at a time, but still going.
There's no force in this world that can stop him once he has his mind set on something. His metal elbow scrapes some splinters off a ledge that was only repainted recently, but that's a natural hazard when they do such a rush job. Someone sticks their head out of a window below him to glare pointedly up, and he just looks pointedly away -
- wait just a damn minute, the window above is his room, he left it locked, why is she in there, how did she already -
- which means the next thing his hand meets is empty air. Which means he drops like a stone.
Welp. Life goes on, but not forever.]
living in the country is pretty boring
[After a while, the weird becomes ordinary, and the ordinary becomes forgettable. In Yosuke's probably limited experience, that's how it works. First it was the case, then it was the academy - he's optimistic that he'll get used to this universe-hopping thing they get to do now in more or less the same way. It just takes time.
Heck, he might already be adjusting. He only yelps a little bit when his vague sense of disorientation suddenly coalesces around his ankles as so much cold river water.]
Gah, it's freezing! [Forgetting his hospitality for a moment, he splashes his way up the stony riverbank, one hand clumsily thrown up to shield his eyes from the sun.] Oh man, I liked these shoes...
[Once he's past the little stone pier and onto solid ground, he finally allows himself to flop down and start wrestling with his shoelaces. Thank god nobody besides them appears to be hanging around at this time of day, but that only gives him the feeling that some of the discarded Junes carrier bags in the grass are judging him instead.]
Heck, he might already be adjusting. He only yelps a little bit when his vague sense of disorientation suddenly coalesces around his ankles as so much cold river water.]
Gah, it's freezing! [Forgetting his hospitality for a moment, he splashes his way up the stony riverbank, one hand clumsily thrown up to shield his eyes from the sun.] Oh man, I liked these shoes...
[Once he's past the little stone pier and onto solid ground, he finally allows himself to flop down and start wrestling with his shoelaces. Thank god nobody besides them appears to be hanging around at this time of day, but that only gives him the feeling that some of the discarded Junes carrier bags in the grass are judging him instead.]
Entry tags:
BONE PARTY
[It's spring, and it's a beautiful day. The sun shines. Birds sing. Flowers bloom. It's not an atmosphere that meshes well with a dead body lying on a park bench, jacket hanging wide open and bones picked clean.
So it's fortunate that Sans is only asleep. Emphatically asleep, mind. Now and then, in between snores, he opens one eyesocket to check that any humans and monsters in the vicinity alike are aware of just how asleep he is. There are a few - mostly humans, several of them walking dogs, quite a few of them doing a double take as they pass the bench and walking away in a bit more of a hurry than when they approached.
Someone's still missing, though. Hmm. That comes to twenty-nine fake snores since he woke up for real. Under normal circumstances, it never takes his bro more than thirty...]
So it's fortunate that Sans is only asleep. Emphatically asleep, mind. Now and then, in between snores, he opens one eyesocket to check that any humans and monsters in the vicinity alike are aware of just how asleep he is. There are a few - mostly humans, several of them walking dogs, quite a few of them doing a double take as they pass the bench and walking away in a bit more of a hurry than when they approached.
Someone's still missing, though. Hmm. That comes to twenty-nine fake snores since he woke up for real. Under normal circumstances, it never takes his bro more than thirty...]
rewritethis2015-10-08 09:41 pmEntry tags:
a tale of two twits
[For one reason or another, there was a small Ed-shaped microphone lying on the ground. It's gone now.
Which is to say, it's now in Edward's hand. He turns it over in his gloveless fingers, eyes narrowed in a slightly more suspicious version of his usual frown. It's not that he's never seen it before - things like this are useful, don't you know, they make it damn clear to people who they're dealing with and what their prospects are. No, the cartoonish design isn't what bugs him either.
Still, whoever's responsible can't be far away. Before long, with an annoyed grunt, he drops the mic on the floor and brings his left boot down, hard. The crunch isn't nearly as loud as he'd like, which only irritates him more.]
What's the point of an insult that isn't built to last? [He kicks the now detached ahoge away. It bounces.] We're done here.
Which is to say, it's now in Edward's hand. He turns it over in his gloveless fingers, eyes narrowed in a slightly more suspicious version of his usual frown. It's not that he's never seen it before - things like this are useful, don't you know, they make it damn clear to people who they're dealing with and what their prospects are. No, the cartoonish design isn't what bugs him either.
Still, whoever's responsible can't be far away. Before long, with an annoyed grunt, he drops the mic on the floor and brings his left boot down, hard. The crunch isn't nearly as loud as he'd like, which only irritates him more.]
What's the point of an insult that isn't built to last? [He kicks the now detached ahoge away. It bounces.] We're done here.
Entry tags:
THE APPOINTED HOUR
It wasn't long ago that the sun finally dropped out of sight, and the clouded sky overhead is still streaked with pink. The street is quiet, the lights of the buildings overlooking it not yet lit. A slight breeze ruffles the grass by the pavement. It's a peaceful scene.
That is, until a greyish shape about three foot tall and roughly as wide cannonballs out through the second-storey window of the library in a hail of noisily shattering glass.
Only half a second before he can make his own bloody stain on the sidewalk does Anghel remember to flutter. It takes some logistical rejiggering, since he insists on clutching his pen in one wing and his small notepad in the other. But he manages, touching down at the base of a streetlamp after only a little bouncing and hardly any grazes at all.
"The Hour of Judgement is nigh!" he cries. "The radiant gates of Heaven call to me! If I can endure this final bitter ordeal, never again shall the world succumb to -"
He trails off into a shiver, his fluffy chest puffing out in the cool air. "No, wait," he breathes, his voice quivering at least as much as his feathers. "Could I have been mistaken? The unholy winds of Niflheim howl, a harbinger of the End Times... Their maddening symphony weaves a Prison of Ages as I speak. I fear it is... too late. The night encroaches..."
That is, until a greyish shape about three foot tall and roughly as wide cannonballs out through the second-storey window of the library in a hail of noisily shattering glass.
Only half a second before he can make his own bloody stain on the sidewalk does Anghel remember to flutter. It takes some logistical rejiggering, since he insists on clutching his pen in one wing and his small notepad in the other. But he manages, touching down at the base of a streetlamp after only a little bouncing and hardly any grazes at all.
"The Hour of Judgement is nigh!" he cries. "The radiant gates of Heaven call to me! If I can endure this final bitter ordeal, never again shall the world succumb to -"
He trails off into a shiver, his fluffy chest puffing out in the cool air. "No, wait," he breathes, his voice quivering at least as much as his feathers. "Could I have been mistaken? The unholy winds of Niflheim howl, a harbinger of the End Times... Their maddening symphony weaves a Prison of Ages as I speak. I fear it is... too late. The night encroaches..."
Entry tags:
The Curious Case of a Cat in the Daytime (maybe)
It began, as Yosuke so often did, with a late-night text.
YO
Guess what i heard!
That bookstore in Okina from that one time, they moved locations so there's gonna be a biiiig sale on
U said u didn't have plans this weekend right? Wanna come with??
I swear i wont even try to tell people were on a date
PLZ???
plz
And that, with a little more back and forth wheedling, was that.
But the appointed time came and went like the watery sunlight on the steps of Yasoinaba Station, and Yosuke was nowhere to be found. In itself, this wasn't unusual. The unusual part was the lack of mildly hysterical phone call complaining about wild bears and bemoaning his lot in life to accompany it.
Only about twenty minutes later did a battered-looking yellow bike finally squeak mournfully into the parking lot, carrying an equally harried-looking figure - who, for once in his life, seemed to be pedalling at a sensible speed. How bizarre.
YO
Guess what i heard!
That bookstore in Okina from that one time, they moved locations so there's gonna be a biiiig sale on
U said u didn't have plans this weekend right? Wanna come with??
I swear i wont even try to tell people were on a date
PLZ???
plz
And that, with a little more back and forth wheedling, was that.
But the appointed time came and went like the watery sunlight on the steps of Yasoinaba Station, and Yosuke was nowhere to be found. In itself, this wasn't unusual. The unusual part was the lack of mildly hysterical phone call complaining about wild bears and bemoaning his lot in life to accompany it.
Only about twenty minutes later did a battered-looking yellow bike finally squeak mournfully into the parking lot, carrying an equally harried-looking figure - who, for once in his life, seemed to be pedalling at a sensible speed. How bizarre.
Entry tags:
cats to meet you
For a humble family-run business in the middle of nowhere, Tatsumi Textiles houses a surprising variety of things if you turn up at the right time - particularly recently, as its side trade in knit toys, phone accessories and other fluffy knickknacks has taken off. Naoto is aware of this. She's also aware that, nevertheless, ceiling-to-floor piles of adorable fuzzy kittens are not usually among them.
Yet here she stands as the door slides shut behind her, with a chorus of mews filling her ears in surround, and a rapidly growing apprehension that she should have told the senpai squad she was busy after all.
"Excuse me?" she ventures, after what seems like a very long while.
Yet here she stands as the door slides shut behind her, with a chorus of mews filling her ears in surround, and a rapidly growing apprehension that she should have told the senpai squad she was busy after all.
"Excuse me?" she ventures, after what seems like a very long while.
woof woof motherfluffer
1
2
3
4
5
Wherever you are in the Holy City on the eve of martial law, whatever business you were going about, something catches your attention: a high-pitched yelp, a loud crash, or maybe just the frantic blur of paws. The point is, you are now looking at a small orange dog crawling out from behind an overturned bin. Asgard does have strays, but whether or not you're familiar with the ones in this area, this one might be hard to recognise. Besides, it looks a little too well-groomed to fit in with them even as it scrabbles to remove a discarded paper bag from its head, and a lot too disoriented. And it seems to have a collar -
- wait, is that a collar? Some collars do have stones inset into them, but...
2
One way or another, you have successfully identified the strange dog, which he's pretty relieved by, and life goes on. Unfortunately... well, life goes on, and biological processes with it.
Not necessarily that one, though. This whining and pawing at your ankles could mean anything, after all.
3
The metalworks scattered around town have been getting more and more business as tensions rise and more people sense the need to protect themselves. For the young native woman at this particular shop, today hasn't been too different. But right now it's quiet, so, she's on break: her door is propped wide open, for whatever little respite it offers from the heat of the forge, and she's lounging just outside.
She gives you an amicable nod as you pass by, completely ignoring the small fluffy dog nonchalantly padding up to her from the other side of the street. Sure, you don't usually see many pets or strays in this area, but it's not a suspicious sight or anything, is it?
4
All of a sudden, the door handle you were reaching towards turns by itself and bursts violently outwards.
Once you recover from the surprise or worse, you imagine you can hear a small squeak, which might sound almost apologetic or might just be the canine equivalent of snickering, but you can't see the source. How mysterious.
5
idk look he's a Pomeranian now let's just do this thing
Entry tags:
terrible people
... There you are!
[Whatever your plans might have been for this cloudy afternoon, they now need to accommodate being literally grabbed by the collar in the middle of town.]
Partner, you gotta help me! It's serious!
[If past events are anything to go by, he might need a moment to calm down. In the meantime, there's no clue to whatever has him so flustered in the quiet street behind him -
- wait, did something orange dart under that bush over there just now?]
[Whatever your plans might have been for this cloudy afternoon, they now need to accommodate being literally grabbed by the collar in the middle of town.]
Partner, you gotta help me! It's serious!
[If past events are anything to go by, he might need a moment to calm down. In the meantime, there's no clue to whatever has him so flustered in the quiet street behind him -
- wait, did something orange dart under that bush over there just now?]