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Jun. 19th, 2011 | 03:50 am

Polychromatic Fourth Wall
NeilandTodd, or the friends he never deserved
- Neil - 1, 2, 3
- Todd - 1, 2, 3
Shilo, or the girlfriend he never knew he wanted - 1
Angela, or the Human Relations Guru he always needed - 1, 2, 3
Claire, who he doesn't know well but admires greatly - 1
The almost inevitable Richard trolling - 1

In which Angela talks Justin into going to a fashion function.

Fairy Tales - Justin and Lady Sybil play Cinderella.

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Defriend if it so pleases you

Jun. 11th, 2011 | 12:44 am
mood: sadsad

This journal is no longer being used at Polychromatic.  Any further entries will be of the musebox-y variety.  You're welcome to stay friends, of course!  Since I'll be playing Justin as he was after Polychromatic, so any interactions with characters (here or elsewhere in memes or during fourth wall events) will follow that timeline.  Unless, you know... I get bored and do something else.

If I've kept your character on as a friend and you're still active at Polychromatic, that likely means that I enjoyed our characters' interactions and would like to... erm, stalk your character a bit.  Let me know if you'd like me to defriend.  I can do that.
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IC Contact Post [audio]

Jan. 1st, 2011 | 03:11 pm

You have failed to reach Justin Pendleton.  Please leave your name, contact information, and query after the tone.


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100 (Action / Network)

Nov. 30th, 2010 | 05:53 pm
mood: thoughtfulthoughtful

[Tuesdays are Justin's day off. He has decided to spend this particular Tuesday near the fountain. It's not the sort of place he favors--too many people, too much noise--but there is a perfectly good reason to brave the crowds today.

He's hunched over a book, glancing up occasionally to see if there are any familiar faces.]

I used to hate days like this. You can't tell who will come and who won't, getting though the Square is virtually impossible when it's this crowded...

I don't know when I started to like this curse.

[ooc: Backtagging, duplicates, spoilers, crack--you name it, it's allowed. Except killing him.  None of that. I'll be in and out, so I can't stress how amazing backtagging is both here and in Penny's post. ♥]

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Nov. 20th, 2010 | 12:05 pm
location: Train of Doom
mood: tiredtired

[Open Text Post]

Perhaps it goes without saying, but I won't be in to work today. 

If you're on the subway, you've undoubtedly heard about what's going on.  Don't panic.  Stay close to friends.  If you don't have friends, make some.  If you would rather not know more about what has been going on, please don't read the rest of this post.

IC Cut // Notes // Open to All (except for Nekozawa as of Tamaki's post)Collapse )

[Possible Action, Train Car Three]

[After playing Holmes and Watson with Rudy for some time last night, Justin grew tired of blood and running about the train and returned to the compartment he had originally found himself in.  He's not so stupid as to go against his own advice.  Being alone on this train seems to be a death sentence, and he isn't keen on dying again. 

Justin hasn't slept since early yesterday morning, and it shows.  But really, how can anyone sleep here with the apocalypse outside and apparently supernatural murders inside?  He has a variety of hypotheses about the deaths--what's causing them, to what ends people are dying--but it's fruitless to posit them when there's nothing to do to prevent further death.  Investigation is pointless.  All he can do is watch the network and his surroundings and record what he hears and sees.  And he can think, for all of the good that will do.

He has a row to himself, about as alone as one can be in a train car full of other people.  Justin alternates between checking the network and jotting down notes in a small notebook.]

[ooc: I *think* everything in Justin's notes has been pulled from the network, but if I've overstepped any bounds, mods, throw something at me and I'll change it!]

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Nov. 2nd, 2010 | 09:47 pm
mood: coldcold

My apologies to anyone who either found themselves in my dream (or found me in theirs) or were inconvenienced by my disappearance. 

In three days, I will have been here for two years.

[Police Force Filter]

I'll return to work tomorrow.  Sorry for the unannounced absence.

[ooc: Short entry is short.  ._.  Justin took off soon after the Apocalypse happened to have a nervous breakdown and then spent some time hiding at home (thanks for ruining that, Rudy).  He will be returning to his regularly scheduled working (with extra angst!).]

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--- (nightmare)

Oct. 22nd, 2010 | 05:25 pm

This nightmare is a chaotic roar, a confused jumble of moments that may or may not have happened. The world is fractured like a broken funhouse mirror and, in each distorted shard, a story plays out. Sounds and sights and emotions overlap. It’s overwhelming. If, however, the mind can focus on one of the multiple and simultaneous shards of thought…

Here, Justin sits in a bleak cell that has no defining features. It could be anywhere, at any time. It’s cold. Justin’s face is as blank as the nondescript walls around him. There have been no visitors, and there is no hope that any will come. It’s just as well. Visitors might bring emotion with them, and it’s simpler to sit and feel nothing than to let the germ of emotion into the sterile environment. Emotions feed fear. Better to accept the inevitability of death with cold apathy than with fear.

Over there, Justin stares down at a body that has broken on the same rocks that break the ocean waves. The waves are deafening, crashing like thunder and drowning out all other sounds. Fear, anger, guilt, pain, and despair linger in the air, nearly tangible entities.

In another fragmented moment, Justin pulls the trigger of a gun. The bullet moves impossibly slow and its target is ever-changing. It hits a bleach-blond head that those who have visited Justin’s nightmares will recognize; it goes through Sorrow’s face; it passes through a young woman’s neck. Blood is everywhere—in the air, on the floor, beating against every sense organ. The gunshot echoes on and on.

A faceless woman is speaking to Justin here. She’s wearing an officer’s uniform and her voice is cold. You get one life, and whatever you do with it, whatever's done to you... you gotta face that. There are no second chances. She pauses; the silence is louder than her voice was. I'm not really interested in what a murderer's idea of just and unjust might be.

And here Justin is being torn apart by monsters that look like corpses in varying states of composition. The sounds from the creature’s mouths are inhuman.

There, Justin in is the forensics lab performing an autopsy. He looks sick to his stomach. The corpse’s face is visible and shifting—a rotting skull, Abby Sciuto, Shilo, Neil, Todd, Zia. Its identity changes relentlessly and endlessly until it settles, and, for a moment, Justin is dissecting his own corpse.

There’s a final Justin amid the chaos, fruitlessly trying to shoot himself in the head. The gun’s chambers are empty, but every click is as loud as a gunshot.

Numerous Justins, numerous horrors, numerous nightmares all playing out simultaneously. Sounds, emotions, and images are confused, difficult to pull apart. The shattered-mirror dreamscape howls… and collapses into silence. The shards fall, splinter further, and then come together in a single image. Many Justins become one. A broken world turns into a dark, broken-down building with creaking floorboards and empty window panes. After the auditory chaos before it, this scene is a remarkably quiet one. The ocean murmurs faintly in the night. Justin—a singular Justin—sits on the edge of a dilapidated balcony, feet dangling out over the rocky coast far, far below.

[ooc: All responses assumed to take place after the nightmare. Anyone's welcome to wander in. Have characters catch as much or as little of the fragmented bits as you please, and... that's it, I think.]

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96 [video]

Oct. 14th, 2010 | 05:20 pm
mood: annoyedannoyed

[Justin very rarely makes video posts, as he tends to be far more eloquent in type. The current state of his apartment, however, has warranted such a post.]

This happened when I was at work yesterday. Fortunately, the damage was relegated to my room and bookshelf.

[A sweeping shot of Justin's room, which... actually looks fairly normal. It takes a keen eye to notice that every single piece of furniture, once lined up perfectly parallel and perpendicular to the walls, is ever so slightly askew. There are also empty candy wrappers here and there.]

You can't tell just by looking, but all of my plants were moved, too. The ones that require the most light were placed as far away from the window as possible... or under the bed, or in the closet. The ones that need partial light were moved to the window sill. And then there's this...

[The view swings violently and comes to rest on Justin's dresser. He begins opening drawers. Dress shirts and candy in one. Socks and candy in another. Oh, there appears to be a pattern...]

And in the living room, someone took the liberty of rearranging my bookshelf.

[We move through the white-washed hallway and into the living room. Justin's bookshelf--also at a slight angle--looks relatively unharmed except for a few pieces of candy corn on the shelves. Zoom in. There's still not much to see.]

I had them sorted by genre and alphabetized. Their order has been entirely randomized. I don't know who did this--although I have a guess--and I don't know how they managed it while Shilo was in the apartment. If you would like to claim responsibility, step forward now.

[Justin's black cat, Neith, wanders into the frame. She has an absolutely ridiculous pink bow around her neck. Justin sighs and ends the recording.]

[ooc: Thoroughly pranked by Road and Zia yesterday, and I am using this as a reason to break up the angst. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT WILL TAKE HIM TO FIX THIS.]

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Oct. 8th, 2010 | 12:53 am

I prefer sins to threats of floods of Biblical proportions.  Sinning--if you believe in sin outside of the context of curses--is part of being human.  Even if you don't believe in the concept of sin, we're still inescapably flawed creatures that allow our base instincts to overwhelm our social conditioning. 

Assuming this string of curses isn't followed by a Biblical punishment, it's not that bad.

Private // Hackable to the very experienced and incredibly persistentCollapse )

[ooc: WARNING - Disjointed angst below cut.  Long, disjointed angst the likes of which even Justin has hitherto been incapable of putting down in type.  It's mostly there so I (and anyone who, for some reason fancies doing so) can track what's going on in his head.  I'm sorry.]

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Sep. 30th, 2010 | 07:57 pm
location: Station
mood: coldcold

Does anyone know precisely what happened?  I've seen posts from those who were on the ark on the network... where are you?  If you're safe--Shilo, Neil, Todd, Zia, any of you--please post or reply. 

It was a hoax.  The City flooded, but not enough to do more than cause property damage and make going outside miserable.  There's still standing water.  The Underground is the worst.  It's still navigable, however unpleasant navigating it is. 

I doubt the rainbows are the deities' way of promising to stop terrorizing us.

[Police Filter // Unhackable // FLAGGED URGENT]

I'm sorry to post again so soon, but I have information regarding Beckett's abductor.

A young woman who asked to remain unidentified pointed to a vampire called Myrnin.  This vampire suffers from some kind of illness--she mentioned brain legions--and has apparently been working towards a means of slowing his illness' progression.  The informant said that Myrnin's illness has been worsening, presumably pushing him to kill. 

Myrnin frequents the establishment Oh Aces and has a laboratory Underground.  The informant was unable to give a more precise location, but there are only so many places Underground that would be suitable for a laboratory.  If we can access a map of the Underground, we may be able to narrow Myrnin's--and, hopefully, Beckett's--location down to a handful of possibilities.  Someone should visit Oh Aces.  If there's anyone there, they may know more about Myrnin's location.

We can either try to determine where Myrnin is using our above ground resources or we can go back under.  I recommend regrouping at the Station and, if possible, waiting before going back Underground.  How many of you have slept or eaten?  We can't apprehend an insane vampire in the state we're in and we don't know his exact location; taking some time to consider our options may be our best course of action.  How to go about bringing Myrnin in once he's found (even if he isn't responsible for Beckett's disappearance, he seems dangerous to warrant police supervision) is something else we should discuss.  If his violent acts are the result of an illness, we need to decide how much force we might justifiably use.

That's my suggestion: Rest, plan, and gather information.  To my understanding, water levels Underground are still high.  They should be lower tomorrow, and we should be more prepared than we are now.

It's only a suggestion. 

[/end filter]

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