There was dust here, layers of dirt coating the unused furniture, but some time ago, the dust melted away. The couches began to look new again. The kitchen cupboards replenished themselves and the plothole in the closet began spinning once more ( Read more... )

There's a loud thump of hardcover books landing heavily on the table, winged carefully from across the room. They were contained in a drawstring satchel, but begin to fall out from the force of the landing: The Necronomicon slips out, followed by a battered copy of the King James Bible, the collected works of H.P. Lovecraft, and several small ( Read more... )

Fashionably late, the last of the Maraloffski-Tabularasa crackspawn wanders in and throws himself down on a couch, lighting up a cigarette and looking around with a smirk. He's ruffled, lazy, sensual, and might as well be wearing a neon sign screaming "playboy!" Entirely pansexual, he will hit on just about anything and anyone that comes near.

( Read more... )

A young man sits on a bench just outside of the mansion, a messenger bag and a violin case tucked under his seat and everything about him quiet and relaxed while a Labrador retriever sniffs at the lawn some short distance away. There is nothing particularly exceptional about this man on an individual level. His hair is a dark brown that might as ( Read more... )

And here we have a beautiful young woman, almost nineteen, practically bouncing in. She has eyes so blue they just about jump out at you, and long, long hair, inherited from her mother, originally the blackest black imaginable, but now dyed multiple colors you don't actually find in nature ( Read more... )

*the first thing anyone's going to notice is the crackling sound of flames filling the air; the second thing will be, a few seconds later, the sound's source making itself evident by the rather large column of orange flame that's materialized out of nowhere in particular -- this will slowly resolve itself into the shape of a young man, still molded ( Read more... )

And it's yet another new arrival with a rather perpetual half-smirk, standing slightly above average height (for the population in general, that is, which probably makes her on the short side for the community) in a pair of bright orange hi-top sneakers. Along with that, she's wearing a dark purple hand-knit sweater that's at least one size too ( Read more... )

привет! My дед, my grandfather, says I am to be here. He says I spend too much time on my studies, alone, and too little about with people. It will be good for me, he says, to spend time without my family, out of the company of a tired old man, and with people my own age. It is to be a learning experience ( Read more... )

*ENTER a young man, in his late teens, currently in the possession of: a rosy face, floppy hair, and hands covered in band-aids ( Read more... )

In wanders a youngish girl of about nineteen, a fedora perched on her head. She stops and looks around, raising an eyebrow, then grins.

Hey. I'm Elsa. Nineteen, English major, and I go to NYU. Anyone got anything to drink?

Typist: I have finally succumbed to Gen2! Anyway, Elsa Thursday Stoker von Uberwald. Feel free to throw Next!spawns at ( Read more... )