roomforonemore: (Default)
roomforonemore ([personal profile] roomforonemore) wrote in [community profile] thedininmyhead2012-12-26 09:33 am

the 'get Morgan used to Svetlana's tiny keyboard/new comp celebration' spam post

How It Works:
1. Break out your character journals and have them ask my characters questions. If they have no questions, have them... I dunno. Say a word or random phrase and I'll throw a character at them to talk about that word or phrase and they can have existential debates about paperclips if that's their kink. The idea is random, pointless, stressfree fun. If you demand an explanation out of one of my characters or have legitimate questions, personally and OOC-ly, I'm all right with that too.
2. If you'd rather start a more proper thread, throw someone in with one of those. Anything goes.
3. Optionally request someone in particular to be thrown at said comment in the subject, or just leave it open.
3b. OC and kids you know I do/have play/ed who don't currently have journals also are fair game.
4. RP spam happens.
comefollowmedown: (Misc)

[personal profile] comefollowmedown 2012-12-26 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
And who is she now but a dead girl, a ghost girl, a girl made of dreams and dust?

Sometimes she screams in frustration, sometimes she tries to slam herself into the walls, to do something to get the attention of anyone other than herself but it never works.

it's after that when she finds peace though, just sitting there next to Shaun as he sleeps or haunting Mahir. She calms down and watches the world pass by. It's not thrilling, not by a long shot but it's almost peaceful, almost relaxing when she can turn her brain off to the events that seem to be unfolding.

Tonight she's next to Shaun, sitting in the apartment that she somehow manages to share with him, eve though she's dead. She's sprawled out on the floor, hr feet propped up on his bed and her eyes closed. Maybe she's not real, maybe she's just the illusion that Shaun is keeping alive but it dones't matter right now.
sunshineandshotguns: (Hiding)

[personal profile] sunshineandshotguns 2012-12-31 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
He can feel her presence. He can't see her, and right now, she's not saying anything, but he can feel her. It's as bad as it was that little time he was at the Mason's, when he was sure every second he didn't remind himself that she was dead that she was on the other side of the door.

She never even saw this apartment, but she's right fucking there anyway. Haunting him like she always does.

He's still not sure if it's a bad thing or a comfort. It should be a bad thing. But he'd rather have her there than not, even if it's not really her, just this pale imitation his brain keeps conjuring to keep him from having to be alone.

His eyes are closed, he's curled up on the bed, and there's a part of him that's absolutely sure that if he turns over, he'll see her there. Maybe sitting in the desk chair, scrolling through feeds, or lying next to the bed.

He's not sure whether he wants to turn over and prove that she's not there, or never move and see if that keeps her from ever disappearing. So he just doesn't move, practically holding his breath, his eyes shut tight, not sure what to do with himself, let alone with her.
comefollowmedown: (Default)

[personal profile] comefollowmedown 2012-12-31 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
She sighs, stretching and moving. She's tired of bring away from him, tired of being on the floor, tired of not touching him.

And fine, it won't really be touching him but she'll feel him, she'll be able to touch him, even if he can't feel it.

It's worth it.

She moves, getting to her feet and settling on the bed next to him, she presses her body close to his, curling around him and wrapping her arms around his body.

"God," she mutters to herself because she knows she won't be heard. "I miss you so much."
herbestdisguise: (pic#5158652)

Prompt for a thread Things we lost in the fire

[personal profile] herbestdisguise 2012-12-26 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
itwasntworkingforme: (O Death)

[personal profile] itwasntworkingforme 2012-12-26 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Dead girls, dead girls, dead girls gone. Who is she, who is she? Is she Molly? Is she Annabelle? Is she someone else entirely?

Her hands shake and she cant' sleep, can't close her eyes anymore because she forgets where she is.

She walks around, her arms wrapped around herself. She's not sure what to do, not sure what she can do versus what will get her in trouble.

Eventually, she settles on her couch, curling up into a tight ball and staring into the darkness. She doesn't fall asleep exactly but she dazes out, losing herself in the hell that she managed to somehow crawl out of.
noonegetstome: (You wouldn't)

[personal profile] noonegetstome 2012-12-31 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
He has to leave her sometimes. He has to walk away because otherwise he's going to break, going to scream and shake her and demand his Molly back from wherever she's disappeared to. And he knows, he does know, that that won't do any good, that it might make her worse, but he still wants to sometimes.

Jim isn't very good at being patient, unless he has a very clear idea of how long it's going to last. And he doesn't know how long it'll be before Molly is herself again, doesn't know if it ever will happen. He can't fix this, and it makes him want to scream.

So he steps out, steps away and lets out his frustration elsewhere and when he's done, when he's calm and can be gentle and pleasant again, he comes back.

This time he has a bag of groceries in his arm when he lets himself back into the flat, still upstairs from the shop that might as well be gone by now for how often he opens it. He's smiling, and he manages to keep it even when he sees her on the couch, sees the expression on her face.

He walks past her, sets the groceries down on the table, moving quietly so as not to disturb her. He stops to take a breath, and it's only then that he moves back to the couch, sitting carefully on the edge next to her and reaching out to rest a hand over hers.
itwasntworkingforme: (Default)

[personal profile] itwasntworkingforme 2012-12-31 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
She tenses, her eyes darting away from the blackness and towards Jim. He's a shadow, a lie, a ghost that she's not sure of.

But his hand is on her, warm and soft and reassuring.

Maybe he's not a ghost. Maybe he's there to rescue her.

She slumps against him, her eyes closing again as she makes herself comfortable. "Please be real," she mutters softly. "Please Jim, please be real?"
letmewritelies: (Hm?)

Prompt: The seams that hold the waking world are slowly coming undne.

[personal profile] letmewritelies 2012-12-26 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
wontcomeclean: (06)

Prompt Don't talk to strangers, don't walk into danger

[personal profile] wontcomeclean 2012-12-26 04:34 pm (UTC)(link)
youlearntobelost: (pic#4665100)

[personal profile] youlearntobelost 2012-12-26 04:39 pm (UTC)(link)
She stumbles in inured and bleeding. Her hand clutches her stomach, almost like she's trying to keep her insides from spilling out.

She slumps against a wall, her eyes falling closed, her breathing hard. She looks exhausted and in pain but that shouldn't be surprising.

She removes her hand from her stomach and looks down. It's a nasty wound and she knows full well that she needs to get it taken care of, she's just so tired though....
somethingmorethanfae: (pic#5149722)

Prompt: lets finish what we started

[personal profile] somethingmorethanfae 2012-12-26 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
brakesareshot: (Default)

You get a couple thrown in now and more later

[personal profile] brakesareshot 2012-12-27 03:18 pm (UTC)(link)
(Prompt: this hurricane's chasing us all underground)
loveinyourbody: (Default)

[personal profile] loveinyourbody 2012-12-27 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Rosie has been biding her time, waiting to leave school and go to America. She never had plans to go to University. It's just not her thing, and while her parents are slightly disappointed, they're not going to force her.

But she has to finish school first.

She's not a big fan of Christmas mostly because she's not really into family gatherings. So when she and her family go to the States to spend the holiday with cousins, she keeps finding quiet places alone to spend her time in. This is where she is now, in whatever city they've found themselves in. She's got her favorite card deck in her hands and she's shuffling them absentmindedly.
allgrieftorefrain: Lulu, the tiny one (Lulu)

[personal profile] allgrieftorefrain 2012-12-31 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
Unlike her cousin, Lulu loves family gatherings. She likes seeing what people have been getting up to lately, getting to know them all over again. Lately, as the years between her and her 16th birthday come to a close, she likes talking to them about their Callings, trying to figure out what she's going to be. She likes being surrounded by people who understand what the family is all about, as opposed to the rest of the world.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't like alone time, and here in Uncle Jacob's hotel, there's so many quiet places to explore, both the ones roped off for family and the ones not. So she creeps away, and here, down by the closed outdoor pool, is where she runs into Rosie.

They've never been extrodinarily close, but they're close in age, and they're cousins, so Lulu is pleased to see her, and waves broadly as she makes her way through the doors.

"What are you doing out here?"
loveinyourbody: (Default)

[personal profile] loveinyourbody 2013-01-03 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
Rosie looks up and watches her cousin approach. Her lips turn up just slightly, which for her is a decent smile. She doesn't smile very big often. Either way, she isn't upset to see Lulu.

"Taking a break from everyone," she says with a shrug. "What are you doing out here?"
shesnotthere: (n] one more moment)

prompt: book of shadows

[personal profile] shesnotthere 2012-12-27 03:35 pm (UTC)(link)