[ Voice ]

[There's a moment of silence when the transmission starts; a slight tremor to Neil's first words. There are some things you can never quite be ready to say, no matter how long you prepare.

Goodbye, he thinks, is the worst.]


If we shadows--

[And he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.]

No, that's not it. I thought that was the right way to go, but. It's an ending-- a good ending, a hopeful ending, but I don't want to think of this like that. I still remember when I came here, the first people I spoke with, the first things I said, and maybe that's a better note to leave on.

[There's an awkwardly long pause, a rustle of paper (an old and familiar and well-loved book, the book in whose pages he first read these words), and then (in a clear voice, steady now and sure and impassioned:)]

Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset.

[Another pause, and a deep, even breath, hitting his stride.]

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.


[Another pause, and the gentle, dusty thump of a well-worn book being shut.]

I won't forget any of this. Five years I couldn't have imagined, and-- [His breath catches.]

I'm not sure where I'm going, but I'll miss it. All of you.

Thank you, City, for all of it.

[And so goodnight unto you all.]




[ooc; Neil and Todd will be in the Square today; they won't be going through a door until the absolute last moment this evening, in case anyone would rather do goodbyes in person. Feel free to threadjack as needed. Just wanted to get this up ;; It's been an honor and a pleasure.]
 
 
[VOICE]

I have to admit this door... makes me nervous. I know, that's selfish of me, because there are a lot of people here who want to go home and they don't deserve to be stuck, but I love living in the City. If everyone goes... well, I just worry. There are people who don't have anywhere else to go.

[People like him, but he doesn't want to say so. It's probably obvious, anyway.]

But--

[He tries to cheer his tone up a bit. It sounds a little forced, at first.]

I always like visitors, I'm glad you were able to come. Is there-- anyone here from home?

[He always kind of hopes. But he's happy to see anyone who wants to see him.]




[ooc; one final hurrah. please don't tell him he's not real; please no other neils. otherwise, go nuts, backdate until the end of days.]
 
 
[It's not that Neil likes kissing strangers, exactly-- but he doesn't really mind. Usually. He doesn't think it counts for anything, in a curse, and he sort of likes the festivity and the tradition. And now and then he likes the chance to get away with things he wouldn't usually dare to do in public, but that's a whole other story.

He stops in a cafe for a cup of tea, first thing in the morning, before heading to the bookstore for the day; green sprigs sprout now and then from the ceiling, in between books on the shelves, and sometimes he pulls them down with a laugh, and other times he doesn't bother.

Later, he goes for a long lunch (because it's not as if people are breaking down the doors for used books, and keeping inscrutable hours is a tradition at Bilton & Scaggs,) and after the afternoon ship he meanders home, doubtless meeting up with Todd along the way.]
 
 
I'm relieved, honestly, that this curse still comes around, even with the Deities gone and everything different. Not that any of it is that different, really, but I've always liked getting visitors.

I've honestly lost count of how many times I've seen this come around-- it didn't used to last a whole weekend, did it? I'm glad people get to stay a little longer-- the ones who enjoy it, at least-- but it must be a bit inconvenient, finding somewhere to stay over, being away from home.

I hope you enjoy yourselves. Make the most of it. Carpe diem.


[ooc; please no duplicate Neils (other RSLs always welcome) and please don't explicitly tell him he's not real. Otherwise, whatevs, & I will backdate til the proverbial cows come home!]
 
 
13 November 2013 @ 01:46 pm
[ Video ] 

[Against a backdrop of book-lined shelves-- the shelves found at Bilton & Scaggs, not the shelves in his living room, though there's a distinct similarity between the two-- Neil Perry is sitting, looking a bit sheepish.] 

The bookstore did well yesterday, which I'm glad about.  Really! But... 

[And now, he chews at his lip.] 

I think... I must have been cursed, badly. 

[And he holds up a sweet potato. 

In each hand.  

From the large pile behind the counter, just offscreen. Not that you can see it, but from the expression on his face you might well guess.]
 

Can someone tell me how you're supposed to cook them?  Does anyone like them?  I don't really mind sharing... There are sort of a lot left over... 

[And setting his sweet potatoes back on the pile, he picks up the camera to show his profits from yesterday. 

Indeed, there are sort of a lot.]
 

I suppose, [he says from off-frame, bemused,] if you're interested, just let me know. 
 
 
[ VIDEO ]

[It's dark. Not really true dark, because it's early in the morning and in fact the sun would be shining right through the windows onto Neil, except he's drawn the curtains close and turned off all the lights. There's only an eerie illumination from below, like a kid holding a flashlight under his face.

Because that's what it is.]


When I got up this morning I found this,

[Neil says, the picture lurching as he picks the camera up to turn it, to show the table in front of him. Several hundred small puzzle pieces are scattered there-- some showing their pallid backs, some their dark and indistinct faces. There's no picture, no box, in sight. Two edges and part of a third are assembled, stretching around the pile.

A single piece sits in the emptiest spot, notable because a single, wild eye is printed on it.

Neil's hand comes into the frame, pressing one of the pieces around the edge more firmly against its mate, before he whirls the camera around to his face again. Still lit by the flashlight. Shut up, he's mature.]


It must be a curse, but it's a strange one! It reminded me of a story though-- something from home. This is true, as strange as it sounds.

[There's a pause, and when he begins speaking again it's pretty obvious this is an old favorite, a well-practiced and oft-recited tale.]

It was a dark and rainy night, and this old lady, who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles, sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a new jigsaw puzzle.

[There's a pause for tension, and his eyes slide off the lens; he leans a little to the left, placing another puzzle piece in its proper spot.]

But as she pieced the puzzle together, she realized, to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was her very own room.

And the figure in the center of the puzzle, as she completed it, was herself.

[Another pause, a little longer, Neil's eyes widening as he glances out of frame. There's the slightest waver in his voice when he resumes.]

And with trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window.

The last thing that this old lady ever heard was--

[THE SOUND OF BREAKING GLASS! Neil gasps as something shatters in the background, his attention snapping offscreen... and that, dear friends, is where the video cuts off.]


[ooc; for your listening pleasure, this is canon! :3 spooooky.]
 
 
 
11 August 2013 @ 06:19 pm
[VIDEO / ACTION]

[Really, how could any weekend of piracy be complete without a visit from the legendary Peg-Fist Jack and his vicious crew of miscreants?

He's set on the end of a pier, looking out into the sunset, a bottle of rum and a hefty pewter cup beside him. He's wearing a properly grandiose pirate hat, and a long-sleeved jacket which covers one hand.]

Ah, the sea... she weren't so crowded in my day.

[Neil-- that is, Jack, and the inexplicable (and thankfully temporary) peg-fist for which he's known-- will have been out and about all weekend, drinking and eating and whiling away his time in the bars down by the waterfront, or he'll have been found aboard his ship-- small, compared to some others, but fast and well-armed.

Fortunately, the crew is coming off a good season, and he's more inclined to seek entertainment than conflict. Feel free to hit him up at any point over the weekend, just about anywhere, if you are so inclined.]
 
 
06 July 2013 @ 06:09 pm
I'm not quite sure if this counts as things going back to normal, but I guess it's close enough to normal. It's almost a relief when we have Visitors' Days after the really bad curses-- I always wondered if that was a reward for getting through it, maybe, a way to keep us all from really going nuts.

I've never thought of myself as being stuck here, because... well, because it's home now, and I don't mind that... but I always like seeing old friends. And new ones.

So, welcome. I'm glad to see you all.

[ooc; please no duplicate neils (tho facedoubles are always welcome), and no outright telling him he doesn't exist. Otherwise, anything goes! <3 BACKDATING WELCOME FOREVER]
 
 
I'm missing books. Not all of them, but enough of them that I can tell, though I'm not sure what all of them were. Not in the shop-- or maybe there too, but it's harder to tell-- but from our shelves at home.

I don't think it can be a curse, really, after the weekend, but I think maybe those things took them.

Is that crazy? I don't know anymore when something is, I think.

I really hope I get them back, though.
 
 
[ VOICE ]

[A familiar tone, a rather less familiar voice. Unless you remember the last time this happened. Or you knew him before his voice changed. But that's unfair. He never sounded quite this girly. Mostly.]

You know, I'm not sure I've ever seen this happen by itself-- the curse, I mean. I've seen it on the weekends when we have mixed curses-- I've been cursed before, even-- but being this widespread... I can't recall.

[Siiiigh.]

It's not terrible, it's just... uncomfortable, not being myself.


[ooc; open to action at the bookshop if you like. Replies from [personal profile] girls_at_welton <3]
 
 
10 April 2013 @ 12:42 pm
The air is yet a little chill, but the sun streams brightly enough to make up for it. This dream starts between the roots of a great tree-- too wide around for five men to circle it with their arms, and even half a dozen would have to stretch.  Its branches start low, arching and splitting and reaching to claw the clear sky, as brilliantly blue as it ever has been.  They're still largely bare, neither leaf nor bud, but the scent of life is in the air.  The soil beneath your feet is dark and rich, a few bedraggled strands of half-dead grass interspersed with the shadows of branches.  

A little distance away, where the sun streams unhindered, a riotous crowd of flowers is starting to rise.  Crocuses of every color, the blinding green of new growth on low bushes, the heady scent of lilac.  Daffodils stretch their yellow maws toward the sun.  A hundred thousand other wildflowers creep along the withered grass and claw their way out of the earth, some seasonable and others not; some familiar, others strange.  The further from the tree, the greater the quantity; soon enough your line-of-sight fails, blocked out by the rising curtain of wild color.  There is, for all intents, nothing in the distance.  

And now, perhaps, you might notice a splash of color on the tree.  Hanging from a low branch is a crown of twigs and dry branches, twined with a rose vine which trails down to root in the earth.  These flowers, too, are in luscious bloom; the petals are colored a pale green, their perfume delicate but oddly energizing.  

The roots and branches, over here, are gently sloped and close together. If you squint, they almost form a staircase, winding its way up and around the tree... 

[ooc; separate threads will be considered separate incidents with different people, unless otherwise arranged, and will pan out differently for everyone <3 No continuity expected and OPEN to ALL comers. Extremely backdating friendly!]
 
 
On second thought, I think I'll keep the store closed today-- the books aren't in the best mood, apparently, with this curse. A novel I was trying to shelve nearly took my finger. And I can't seem to tell which ones are safe and which aren't, until it's too late.

Which means, I guess, I've got an unexpected day off. What should I do with it?


[ooc; backdated to this morning! /)_-]
 
 
This is always my favorite curse to wake up to. These aren't as regular as the other weekends, but I guess it's about time you all came calling. I hadn't realized it'd been so long since the last.

If we haven't met yet, I'm Neil. Welcome to the City. It's kind of a strange place, but don't worry, most of you are probably only going to be visiting for a few days.

If we have met, I'm glad you've dropped by! I'll be at the bookstore most of the day, if you'd like to visit.


[ooc; please no duplicate neils (tho facedoubles are welcome), and no outright telling him he doesn't exist. Otherwise, anything goes! <3 BACKDATING WELCOME FOREVER, I will be out much of today so expect some delays, darlings.]
 
 
[2:13] God, i just love slightly insecure guys with hearts of gold and giant penises.

[2:20] I didn't post that!

[2:21] I didn't write it at all!
 
 
[ VIDEO | Backdated to this afternoon ]

[The image is a bit dark and a little wobbly, but the focus is pretty obvious: an enormous bull, standing in the middle of a very narrow space lined with books. From offscreen, Neil narrates:]

I think he wandered in about an hour ago-- I heard the bell on the door and looked up and there he was.

[The bull turns his head towards the camera slowly, snorts, and goes back to nosing idly at the shelf.]

I'm calling him Ferdinand, maybe it'll be a good influence. But unless he gets tired and leaves, I'm not really sure what to do... I'd close up early but I don't want to leave him trapped here.

[Briefly, Neil turns the camera on himself, looking a bit perplexed.]

Does anyone have any ideas? Maybe we could... lure him out?

[ooc; posted during business hours at the bookstore ;3 Link is totally ooc and only there for your viewing pleasure. <3]
 
 
25 November 2012 @ 04:16 pm
I think I'm just glad that it's only the furniture that's edible; it's pretty harmless, though everything is kind of sticky. And fragile. I broke a leg off a chair-- not to eat it, I slipped on some icing on the floor and tried to catch myself on it. Though, since it's already broken...

Anyway. I can't believe we're past Thanksgiving already! I didn't say anything on Thursday, but well, I'm still thankful for everything I have here. I've been here for... gosh, three and a half years now, I think, and I still think it's worth it. So I'm thankful for that too.

And I'm really glad, still, to have the opportunity to do the things I want to, here. Which brings up a question for you, City:

What should our next play be?
 
 
These are always my favorite days, and I think maybe, right now this is just the kind of thing we need.

It's a nice day, and if we've got visitors it means there's not a curse. I think maybe I won't open the store-- unless anyone really wants to visit it, I mean-- and just spend the day out.

And of course, for all of you who're only here for a day or two-- I hope you enjoy your stay.



[ooc; please no duplicate neils, and no outright telling him he doesn't exist. Otherwise, anything goes! <3 BACKDATING WELCOME]
 
 
[VOICE]

I can hardly believe it's already September... in some ways it feels like the summer just started, and now it's over. I do like the fall, though, so I can't say I really mind. And it puts me in the mood to read poems about autumn, which are some of my favorite. They're always so lovely, even when they're sad.

Non-IC cut for length | Hendecasyllabics, by Algernon Charles Swinburne )

I've been thinking-- I haven't picked the next play yet. But I want to do something, and I was thinking, maybe we could have some kind of poetry festival? Or a contest, with people reading poems of their own? We could have a theme, or if people prefer they could write about whatever they wanted-- I don't know what would be better.

What does everyone think?


[ooc; eesh please assume this was posted earlier in the day work i hate you. <3!]
 
 
[VIDEO / OPEN ACTION]

[Out in one of the green parts of the City-- some small field in the park, some stretch of grass-- a device has been dropped. The camera catches a long stretch of brown-furred leg as the dropper jumps back, half-trips over his own feet, then stands at attention to stare at something offscreen.

After a moment, he crouches down, front legs splayed flat with his back still in the air, and barks softly. Something-- a stick-- sails through the air, and the big brown dog leaps up to catch it smartly in his mouth.]


C'mon! Bring it back!

[Someone calls from offscreen, the voice faint with distance. The dog drops the stick at his feet and sits primly, grinning. After a moment he lifts his head and swings it over his shoulder, a strangely un-doglike gesture. You come here.]

You're terrible at this,

[Calls the voice again. The dog barks; it sounds suspiciously like a laugh.]



[ooc; backdated to yesterday, please, because i am awful. Feel free to encounter him out and about, pretty much anywhere~ This post's title comes from here :3]