all_inclusive | Entries tagged with zz: marceline

Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

Hunting down slimeballs generally ain't a job you can do and stay local. You wanna make the big money, you gotta be willin' to travel halfway across the damned universe and back, and you gotta be willin' to put yourself in the middle of a lotta different kinds of people. Slimebag people, but you know. Culturally different.

They got festivals on almost every planet out there, and unless they're givin' away free booze, there ain't nothin' Rocket likes about 'em. Even the free booze ones usually have a catch, and he don't understand why people want to be around each other on purpose anyway. If he could have a festival, it would be a festival of one.

...okay, maybe two. But that's it, and he don't mean Quill.

This Terran holiday shit's got to be the most annoying of the whole lot, though, with it's frickin' twinkle lights and trees in the middle of the room for no good damned reason. 'Supposed to be all about love and cheer and all that bullshit, but he ain't feelin' any goodwill from any of the humans who've yelped just at the sight of him.

Like they ain't never seen somebody looked any different from them before.

He don't like the hotel in the first place, but it won't let him back home yet, and even his room is filled with spangles and fake snow. (Who the hell wants real snow, much less fake snow?) In his attempt to find someplace a little less annoying, he's found himself down in the basement, sitting alone in a row of cushy chairs with very low expectations for whatever he's about to watch. If it's got anything to do with that fat guy in the red suit, he's bailing.

But oh, it ends up being so much better than that.

"Aw, what! Just take 'em out!" he's yelling now, on the edge of his seat and motioning angrily at the screen. "You gotta machine gun!"

[Watching Die Hard, best of all holiday movies.]

concierge

The fog had begun near the dusk hours, coating all the plants and flowers in the garden. It settled, heavy, and blanketed everything with a new cover that was only matched in mood by the graveyard that had unearthed itself from the grass and the moss. Names were etched on each gravestone, but the most unnerving part was that every few steps, if you stopped and listened very, very carefully, you might hear a knock of a human hand against hard wood. It was almost as if the dead were being called upwards.

The maze stood normal, but inside around the corners, there were things lurking and waiting.

Outside might have become frightening and gloomy, but the contrast to indoors was stark. Inside, carved pumpkins lit with candles turned the ballroom and restaurants into amber-lit abodes, costumed partygoers twirled to the music played by the band in the lobby (while the DJ had set up in the conservatory). Candy and small hors d'oeuvres circulated on the trays of immaculately clad waiters and though outside it was stormy, foggy, and spooky, inside was a delight of themed drinks, delicious food, and the manic and half-crazed mood of people in the midst of their fun.

The party for Halloween had begun.

And there was no telling when it might ever end.

concierge

Outside of the Nexus Hotel, waiters and hotel staff had begun to set up the umbrellas and the tables in the middle of the day. Soon, it became clear that something was happening in the shadow of the Nexus. White tablecloths were draped on the tables and drinks and food were brought out with the help of several waiters and servers, staffing tables with hot and cold foods beside bartending stations. Summery drinks in bright, neon colors are laid out one by one and soon, the afternoon light casts a radiant look on the scene.

Music plays faintly in the background and a note at the front desk invites all the Nexus guests to head outside and join in on the summer party, which promises to continue going as long as there are people to stay and continue keeping the warm atmosphere rolling.

On the lawn, social games had been set out -- lawn bowling, croquet, and tables were set up with chairs for anyone who didn't quite have the will or the spirit to get into such games. Soon, a small number of people had begun to mill around, but as with all parties, there's always room for more.

quileutejacob

Jacob mostly kept to a set schedule on the island. Wake up, teach his class if school was in session, work on anything at the Homestead that needed repairing and head home to spend time with Belle. It was a bit predictable and occasionally broken up by going to see Bella and the baby or Coraline but it was his life and he loved it.

The island, of course, occasionally decided to throw a wrench in those plans and if his way home became a swamp or there was a freak blizzard, Jacob tried to take it in stride and just keep moving on. It wasn't anything new after three years and some change, right? Except today. He'd pulled open the door to his and Belle's little house expecting to see his wife working on some new invention...and got greeted with a complete decor change.

So the new carpet was nice. So was the air conditioning, which wasn't available in abundance on the island (being inside a room without feeling hot and sticky and without the air so thick that he could breathe without drowning was a novelty) but he couldn't figure out how it got here. Was this some trick? Some temporary decorating change that was going away whenever the island's wacky magic decided to swing back to (relatively) normal? Jacob didn't know. Smarter people than him had been stumped by the island and he had never professed to be into researching or anything that involved reading or sitting still for very long.

But the biggest change about this place was the little undercurrent of power he felt. There was a little ripple, a little spark in the air and it just felt different than he'd felt in the three years since he'd shown up on the island and resigned himself to not being able to shift anymore. Maybe he'd learned to live without that part of himself but he'd never really accepted it and he sure as hell had never rejected it. Could it be? Was the wolf still under there after all and he was finally in a place where he could access it?

He turned the corner away from the front desk and let loose on his control, feeling his body shift and change into the wolf he hadn't been since showing up on the sandy beaches of Tabula Rasa all those years ago.

Finally.

[[See Jacob either before or after he shifts into a wolf - don't worry, he's not going to bite.]]

follow_the_wolf

Stories of the Huntsman and his Wolves were traded over the fires in the camps at the edges of Roman territory. Those whispers twisted with each telling, changed in the inflections and origin of its speaker. The Roman Empire spanned continents and pulled its soldiers from every territory, but no matter the language of those who shared the story, every tribe had a word for 'wolf.'

Some said they were outlaws who had been brought under the heel of the Emperor and had agreed to follow his orders in exchange for the sparing of their lives. Some said they were soldiers who had moved too smoothly through battle and been hand chosen by their commander to join his elite unit. Still others claimed they were shapeshifters who changed shape with the moon and so only struck enemy forces on those three nights of every month that the moon was at its fullest. There were whispers that each Wolf stood towering tall and lean under daylight, and became monstrous creatures under the fall of night. Most shocking of all, there were even whispers that there were women among their number who fought alongside the men as equals.

All agreed that the Wolves wore heavy mantles of thick fur across their shoulders, the long cloaks that fell behind them the color of the forest at night. They moved like ghosts through the forests they struck from, attacked only at night and fought with sword and bow and what could only be imagined as strange knives by the wounds left on the dead they left in their wake.

The Huntsman stepped at the forefront of his Wolves then, as dusk fell heavy among the trees, and looked over his shoulder to inspect those who ranged behind him, readying themselves for the strike ahead. He lifted his chin and spoke to the nearest of his Wolves, "You prepared?"

[AU and open to any who might like some leather and fur clad warriors in the Northern reaches of the Empire. Obviously any who are already shapeshifters could remain so, but others (such as the Huntsman himself) are purely human warriors]

useabezoar

Snape's life for the past several years has been one of dull routine. Wake up, get dressed, find something to eat, avoid everyone else, avoid the oppressive heat, avoid his terrible roommate, avoid avoid avoid. Sometimes, strange things would happen, like waking up in a new place, or with a new body, or with magic that was useless in the face of the abilities he knew he had.

But mostly, it was dull routine.

Until today.

Today should have been normal, like every other day. Nothing strange was happening on the island, at least not that he could tell. So he went about his routine. Clothes -- black, sober, as clean-pressed as he could get. Wand, tucked up his sleeve, just like every day, just in case. His fingers wrap around the doorknob to his room, and he twists and pulls...

And the room he steps out into is not the compound. Instead, he's standing in the front lobby of a hotel, much grander than anything he's seen in years.

Snape blinks. "You have got to be kidding me," he says. This is a new one for the island, this spontaneous changing of setting -- usually it happens overnight, when no one is aware of the change. He's never walked through one door and wound up somewhere else, instead.

Well, until now.

Snape folds his arms over his chest and glares out at the room, as he looks for a familiar face to demand an explanation from.

buryyouwithmysound

So this is way unexpected, but it's not like it's the first time Marceline's run into a strange interdimensional portal. It's definitely the first time she found one in her fridge, but that's life.

And hey, there's no sunlight, so why worry about all that junk? Nah. Marceline's just gonna float through the hallways and explore, because she's just chill like that, as most Vampire Queens are. She's even got a box of strawberries that she's eating one by one, poking a fang into one and sucking out all the red color. She's even being nice and putting the lifeless gray ones back in the box.

"Man this place is so weird," she says, floating two feet off the ground as she explores.

All Inclusive

Reboot Marker

Now I have a machine gun. Ho ho ho.

All Hallows Haunt and All Must Have Fun

Gathering: Summer Party

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The Huntsman and His Wolves

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