[identity profile] otaconic.livejournal.com
[Something feels very odd today.]

[Otacon feels very very odd. A weird sensation in the back of his mind telling him that it's an important day today. But he can't put his finger on it.]

[He decides to settle that confusion with a trip to the kitchen. He roumages around, noticing that there were a few more sweets in the fridge than usual. Like an entire plate of cupcakes.]

... [He looked around for a moment, and then back to the cupcakes. Totoro cupcakes.]



I wonder why these are in here...

[He really doesn't know it's his birthday.]

BOOM! Blox

Dec. 3rd, 2008 02:30 pm
[identity profile] grow-fat.livejournal.com
[A nearby explosion rocks the corridor walls. Screams of terror follow.]

Friends, friends... hear that roar of nitroglycerin thunder? Smell the sweet scent of brimstone? That frisson of terror you feel is the hound of obliteration nipping at your heels.

((OOC: Requesting Painlin because someone dropped me a note requesting Painlin/Fatman. He's trying to set the mood for ya, baby.))
[identity profile] grow-fat.livejournal.com
Oh turtledoves ~

I've been in this horrid place for over a month and haven't gotten to know a soul. Such a terribly tragic state of affairs; I couldn't bear it much longer. So the all of you are invited to a soirée I, the Diva of Detonations, am hosting tonight. It'd be a wonderful opportunity to socialize!

I'm bringing out my imported Sauvignon Blancs for the occassion, so do care to dress accordingly. This isn't one of your slapdash house parties, but a proper get together.

No RSVP necessary. But please do be prompt. Tardiness betrays a careless nature.

See you soon, darhlings.

((OOC: Enter the room and you become either genderflipped or horribly OOC. Inspired by this secret in [community profile] fandomsecrets. Is the OP talking about FM? Maybe. Maybe not. Who really cares? It's party soirée time!))
[identity profile] grow-fat.livejournal.com
[In the wake of the Otherworld creatures' departure, a full-figured man can be found standing in an abandoned hallway. He takes account of his surroundings and frowns in displeasure at what he sees. Taking a drink from his omnipresent wine cup to soothe his rattled sensibilities, he clears his throat and speaks.]

I had expected to be smothered in the warm embrace of eternal hellfire. Only to be greeted by this white emptiness.

Like my failure to achieve notoriety, it is thoroughly dissatisfying.

[Fatman smiles to himself. He likes the sound of his own voice. It is cultured, he thinks, and not without its Shakespearean qualities.]

((OOC: Have an ineptly RPed Fatman, guys!))

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