burnt_orangesky: (Hiding? Not me!)
First dreamSecond dream



First memorySecond memoryThird memoryFourth memoryFifth memory

Am I doing something you don't agree with?

Have any suggestions, and know where I should stick 'em?

Just want to say 'Great job!'?

Want to post gratuitous spam?

But seriously, if you have an issue with anything I am doing, anything at all, post here. I promise not to get huffy about it, and take what crit you give seriously.
Flaming will, of course, be ignored, and though it might be unscreened if it is lulzy. Just saying.

Comments are screened, anon comments are a go, and IP logging should be off. My inbox always needs more love, so don't worry about that!


This is now a permissions post )

ALSO. If you want to get ahold of me and I'm not on AIM and you don't want to PM me for whatever reason, feel free to say something here. Plot ideas? Want to clear up an issue with my last post? Is my HTML actually FailTML? Let me know here!

If you are not in a game with me, I would like to respectfully ask you PM me or comment here if you wish to talk to me. Chances are I'll give you my AIM name if you ask politely.
burnt_orangesky: (Default)
Because I am all about bandwagons. And being fashionably late at hopping on them. OKAY. Now that I've figured out wtf I'm doing with this, if you feel that your character needs to be on here, go ahead and comment.

ALSO. I now have some videos embedded where Gallifrey is talked about and shown a bit, if anyone was interested in listening/seeing it. Also, David Tennant has a fantastic voice :3

Last update: 4/21/10 )
burnt_orangesky: (Lady President)
In the spirit of full disclosure which seems to have overtaken us all, my full name is Romanadvoratrelundar, Romana for short. I hail from a world known as Gallifrey; my people are known as the Time Lords.

While I cannot stay here, I am not entirely certain where I should go. [Small pause.] Due to circumstances I am afraid I cannot divulge, going back to my homeworld is not currently an option. It may never be.

I shall have to think about it.

To those who have been my friends in the two years I have made my home here: thank you. I cannot express how much your friendship has meant to me, and continues to mean to me. And I can promise you this: no matter where you choose to go, back to your homes or staying here, I will be able to visit you. My people are able to cross time, space, and dimensions, with the help of technology we have invented. So we needn't loose touch, no matter what else happens.

-Romana
burnt_orangesky: (Your logic makes no sense)
[[This shows up in the morning. The page is wrinkled, has splotches of ink here and there, and the handwriting itself is messy.]]

Pardon the handwriting, this is Fred.

I am afraid it may be beyoun beyond my current ability to work in the yard, for as long as I am in this ridiulous get-up.

My apologies I will come back to work as soon as possible.


[[ooc: She's stuck in this outfit for 6 days. Lmao.]]
burnt_orangesky: (Default)
Fred frowned to herself as she got out the kettle. She had just come back from her morning run with Gai, and it was shaping up to be a windy day. That was better than rain, at least, but she wondered if she should take a pullover down to the Yard.

The white openings still bothered her, and she took the time to muse on them as she filled the kettle and set it on the stove. What could they be? A way out, or the way to another world? For all that Bridge had warned the Scavengers not to go through them, and the fact that nothing could be seen on the other side, she still wanted to know. She had held off, her curiosity tempered by the knowledge that if they were something dangerous, not only would her friends never forgive her for dying (again), but they would likely start following her everywhere. There were enough of them that they could just casually tag along wherever she went. Not to mention how sad another death would make all of them. She didn't want to put
them through that, anymore than she wanted babysitters.

With a sigh, she opened the cupboard where they kept the tea. For some reason, the box had been placed higher on the shelf than usual. Frowning once more, she pulled over a chair so she could reach it.

Hopping down again, she set the box on the counter as she replaced the chair. Walking back to the counter, she flipped open the lid of the box--and stopped, staring. Nestled in the box, still surrounded by the other tea bags, was something she hadn't seen in quite some time. The glowing crystal surrounded by rings of metal was as familiar as ever, though.

With trembling fingers, she picked it out of the box. Turning it over between her hands, she licked her lips, took a deep breath, and slid her fingers between the rings until the tip of her middle finger brushed up against the stone's cool surface, and plunged her into darkness.

Memory )

***********

Fred came back to herself to hear the kettle shrieking. She removed it quickly, hoping it hadn't bothered 00 or Composer, then moved toward the table to sit. Her movements, however, were awkward and slow. She looked down--she appeared to have some sort of costume on, one that completely encased her entire body, with far more fabric than was really necessary. She turned awkwardly, and moved to sit on the couch.

What in Rassilon's name was she supposed to make of that?
burnt_orangesky: (R u srs?)
I suppose the only thing that can be said for this particular outfit is that it covers up everything important. [Pen taps.] And that it would most likely make wonderful compost. I am not at all certain how it is staying together, actually.

[Another pen tap, then she decides that's all she wanted to say.]

-Fred

[[ooc: She's currently dressed like Poison Ivy. The outfit is staying on with Sphere magic, I guess.]]
burnt_orangesky: (Fred sees what you did there)
[The writing is a touch messy and hastily done--someone's kind of annoyed.]

That man was most unpleasant. Whoever it is who is in charge of the journalmakers needs to have a talk with this fellow--he absolutely refused-- [Inksplatter where she pressed the pen into the page too hard, followed by a pause while she finds a new pen.] to answer any of my questions!

[A slight pause and then the writing resumes, more composedly now.]

I do hope I was not gone too terribly long. Is everyone alright?

I seem to have a number of small luminescent insects following me about, perhaps fifteen of them. They're actually quite pretty; if this is the latest thing the Tree is doing, at least it is interesting and not too terribly dangerous.

[Another slight pause.]

Key, I should like to speak with you at some point soon. I saw something [Pentap.]

-Fred
burnt_orangesky: (Neutral)
The bloody lift has malfunctioned yet again. 00, Composer--do not expect me home for dinner. Aven is with me, so you need not concern yourselves with his whereabouts.

[Pause, pen taps.]

Key, do try not to get into too much trouble, won't you? And good luck against the ants, everyone. I will see you all later, whenever this blasted machine lets me ou~~ [A jagged slash of ink as the lift shakes her out and she drops the journal.]

[[Anyone is welcome to find it on the elevator floor.]]
burnt_orangesky: (Writing in the journal)
[[ooc: Backdated to the evening of 5/24, because I fail.]]

[A pen tap or so before she starts writing.]


If I might have a moment of your time. I have been told that my name is Fred, and [pause] a great many other things. Guy, Bell, and Spring have been most helpful in that respect.

However, I would greatly appreciate it if you would be so kind as to tell me via this medium if you happen to know me. That is all.

[A tiny hesitation.]

-Fred
burnt_orangesky: (Neutral)
This is becoming intolerable. I do not require padding to leave my house; nor do I require warnings for sharp objects, food, or beverages. If I am expected to put up with this for the remainder of this week, I may very well scream.

And to whomever is scribbling 'EXTERMINATE' everywhere, I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped. Immediately.

[Pen taps.]

Gai. I forgot to ask earlier, what with everything that happened. Did the toaster I helped you to find work, or did you need another?

-Fred
burnt_orangesky: (That... doesn't seem quite right...)
[This appears in the late afternoon.

There is a splash of something that looks suspiciously like tea or weak coffee.]


Castle, Genius is over here right now. Something seems wrong with him; I think he may be [pause, pen taps] ill.

Did you notice anything strange about him this morning?

-Fred
burnt_orangesky: (R u srs?)
[There are a few pentaps, and the pen rests on the page long enough to form a tiny pool of ink before Fred's writing starts.]

I do not think I shall ever get the sand completely out of my hair.

Has anything particularly interesting happened while I have been [another pentap or so] napping? And did everyone come through February alright? I confess I was somewhat preoccupied with an [pause] issue of my own, and was quite distracted toward the end.
burnt_orangesky: (Listen to the sounds of silence)
I suppose I should be grateful that I am not smaller than the average cat, now. Though the rather distressing fact that gravity no longer seems to have an effect on me is putting a bit of a crimp in my happiness over being the proper size once more.

My apologies, Bridge; it would seem I am not going to be able to work more than the single day for a while to come.

-Fred
burnt_orangesky: (Dear Sphere: Plz stfu and diaf. Ta; Fred)
[The writing is small, and very delicate, in modified all caps.]

DOES ANYONE HAPPEN TO KNOW IF THE BAZAAR CARRIES DOLL'S CLOTHING? MY NORMAL ATTIRE HARDLY SUITS MY CURRENT STATURE.

-
FRED

[[ooc: replies will be made after I get back from work!]]
burnt_orangesky: (Gallifrey)
This place that the Wilderness has turned into. It is Gallifrey.

I shall remain here for some little time. Should you need to find me, I am in some caves within sight of the city, but not walking distance of it.

00, Composer--Aven is with me.

-Fred
burnt_orangesky: (Art is more interesting)
[The feed cuts in on... water, then there's a dull, hollow sound.] Ow. [Apparently Fred just managed to run into something. There's relative silence for a short time, filled with the sound of the shower running... and then Fred starts humming a low, hauntingly melodic tune. Either it doesn't have words, or she chooses not to sing them. After a moment, she breaks off mid-hum to say something.]

Oh bloody hell... we're out of shampoo. [There's the strangled gasping sound of the last drops being squeezed out of a plastic container] Right... suppose it's my turn to go shopping again...

[She starts humming again, a different song this time. Then she starts singing the words, more enthusiastically then very well... but she does manage to hit all the right notes.]

...in the kitchen with Dinah,
Someone's in the kitchen I knowowowow~
Someone's in the kitchen with Di~nah!
Strummin' on the old banjo
And singing
Fe, fie, fiddleaiai,
Fe fie fiddleiooo...


[And the radio cuts out again.]

[[ooc: The first song is some Time Lord lullaby she half-remembers. I have no idea what it actually sounds like, lol.]]

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