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
[ ... Okay, that may have been a bit too over-eager, but seriously, werewolves are cool. And there were always a whole lot of different kinds, due to the rifts being the rifts. But none of them had eyes that flashed like that.]
Well, depending on your view point, anyway. Not like the werewolves I'm used to, though. Their eyes don't do that.
[She pauses for a moment before talking a sip of her drink.]
Are we talking major wolfman on the full moon or did Hollywood super exaggerate it?
no subject
[ in his experience, people didn't usually respond so positively to the news that he was a werewolf. it was either fear, doubt, or outright rejection of the notion that something that was supposed to be pure hollywood fiction actually existed. ]
Transformations vary, but generally only very few of us are able to fully transform on a full moon or otherwise. Hollywood exaggerates it, but there are... [ he doesn't look happy admitting this ] ...points where they get close. Not right on target, but pretty close to it. Most of us, however, don't get that far. What Hollywood likes to put up on the big screen is more the special, rare circumstances and less what you'd see in a group of regular, for lack of a better term, wolves.
And I don't have to shift on a full moon. There's the potential, the instinct to loose control when the moon's out, but it can be contained. You anchor yourself, learn to tame the beast within. It's manageable.
no subject
[she leans back in her seat as she pauses for a moment, trying to think.]
Every shapeshifter has two forms - big and small. Werewolves, the lucky ducks, get three - one as a wolf, which counts as their big form, one of a smaller animal, and their full moon form, which does get a bit Lon Chaney but they usually lock themselves down so that they don't hurt anyone.
no subject
[ or those who were denied sunlight, drugged, etc. but those special circumstances weren't as frequent as lon chaney movies would like people to believe. ]
no subject
Lucky you, I guess. And the added bonus of not turning into a ferret at the whim of your emotions.
[Being a riftverse wolf is fun, this is a fact.]