Claudia Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stuckinastorm) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
voyagers2014-06-18 02:22 pm
stuckinastorm) wrote in voyagers2014-06-18 02:22 pm
Entry tags:
network } public { but this ain't seaworld, this is real as it gets
[The handwriting comes with the quick ease of someone who is used to journals of this nature - legible, but moving at a fairly even pace. It's one of the most comforting things about this place so far, that familiar way of keeping in touch with the rest of the community. Of the things they could have borrowed from Chicago? This was not a bad one.]
Why do I feel like I'm in the middle of a Lonely Island song? Enjoy getting that stuck in your head for the rest of the evening.
[She's not sorry. But there's a pause as she tries to focus. She did not open the journal to talk about how she's on a boat.]
Anyway. New. Still kind of getting used to things. Have a couple of inquiries, if you are so inclined.
First things first: I'm looking for people who, when I say "Chicago," realize it means something a little more than fabulous deep dish pizza and the home of the Bears. I'm particularly looking for the ones from a Chicago that just recently went ka-boom.
Angel, demon, Wanderer - though I guess we're all kind of Wanderers now - doesn't really matter. Hell, I'll even take those from a Chicago that didn't go ka-boom. A little bit of community can go a long way in a place like this. CLF need not apply, however, unless you want a bottle of what looks like really expensive vodka broken over your head.
Moving on.
Also, if you happen to know where I can find a guy named Robert Herron, let's chat. He's tall, with straight dark hair, blue eyes, looks like he's in his mid-forties. If you see him, tell him Claudia Blake is looking for him. He'll know who you mean.
[There's a beat.]
I hope.
[Moving on.]
Dad, if you're here somewhere, I'm at the bar on one of the upper decks. It's kind of cute, with this little anchor behind the bar and ... a very creepy waitstaff. I'm probably going to be there until this very expensive bottle of vodka is gone. So if you see this, drop by. You can split it with me.
[She doesn't really care about public versus private. In case you're not smart enough to figure it out, the guy she's looking for? Totally her dad. But moving on.]
Anyone have any idea what we're supposed to do around here?
[And with that, she'll end her journal ramble before her hand cramps. Flexing her fingers slightly she'll go back to picking up the glass sitting next to her and taking a long swig with a wince. The world just ended. She's pretty sure she's allowed to get super freaking drunk. She's perched on a stool, wearing clothing that seems a little worse for the wear, with tears and soot stains littered across the jacket, shirt and jeans. There's also a nasty gash on her forehead that she's managed to bandage up on her own, but it mostly just looks like the gauze is sitting there for show.
The problem when you bleed white blood.
All the same, she's going to sit there, with her drink, and wait for the responses to come back. Enjoy your day, ship. Feel free to bug the newly arrived guardian.]
Why do I feel like I'm in the middle of a Lonely Island song? Enjoy getting that stuck in your head for the rest of the evening.
[She's not sorry. But there's a pause as she tries to focus. She did not open the journal to talk about how she's on a boat.]
Anyway. New. Still kind of getting used to things. Have a couple of inquiries, if you are so inclined.
First things first: I'm looking for people who, when I say "Chicago," realize it means something a little more than fabulous deep dish pizza and the home of the Bears. I'm particularly looking for the ones from a Chicago that just recently went ka-boom.
Angel, demon, Wanderer - though I guess we're all kind of Wanderers now - doesn't really matter. Hell, I'll even take those from a Chicago that didn't go ka-boom. A little bit of community can go a long way in a place like this. CLF need not apply, however, unless you want a bottle of what looks like really expensive vodka broken over your head.
Moving on.
Also, if you happen to know where I can find a guy named Robert Herron, let's chat. He's tall, with straight dark hair, blue eyes, looks like he's in his mid-forties. If you see him, tell him Claudia Blake is looking for him. He'll know who you mean.
[There's a beat.]
I hope.
[Moving on.]
Dad, if you're here somewhere, I'm at the bar on one of the upper decks. It's kind of cute, with this little anchor behind the bar and ... a very creepy waitstaff. I'm probably going to be there until this very expensive bottle of vodka is gone. So if you see this, drop by. You can split it with me.
[She doesn't really care about public versus private. In case you're not smart enough to figure it out, the guy she's looking for? Totally her dad. But moving on.]
Anyone have any idea what we're supposed to do around here?
[And with that, she'll end her journal ramble before her hand cramps. Flexing her fingers slightly she'll go back to picking up the glass sitting next to her and taking a long swig with a wince. The world just ended. She's pretty sure she's allowed to get super freaking drunk. She's perched on a stool, wearing clothing that seems a little worse for the wear, with tears and soot stains littered across the jacket, shirt and jeans. There's also a nasty gash on her forehead that she's managed to bandage up on her own, but it mostly just looks like the gauze is sitting there for show.
The problem when you bleed white blood.
All the same, she's going to sit there, with her drink, and wait for the responses to come back. Enjoy your day, ship. Feel free to bug the newly arrived guardian.]
no subject
Well, wards do come with certain complications. Mainly, having to trust your life and sanity to a total stranger who had no choice in the matter but ... I don't know. It might be nice not to have this constant need to be moving and searching.
I think the restlessness bugs me more than anything. But again, I've never had a ward.
no subject
[there's a tiny smirk as he takes a long drink from the glass in his hand.] Maybe you'll end up with a different answer when you experience what it is like to have one. [maybe she'll miss the restlessness. maybe she finds she loves being a guardian.]
no subject
[She's a complainer, unfortunately. It's what she does.]