Un Lun Dun Scenarios!

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

Welcome to UnLondon!

Perhaps you climbed too high on bookshelves that should have ended a while ago, or spun a wheel that shouldn't have been spun in a creaky dark room behind an alley, or delved a little too deep in your dumpster diving, or fell down just the right (wrong?) manhole. Perhaps another force sent you here for reasons undefined, or you brought yourself here with your own power. However you got here, you've crossed the Odd and now UnLondon's got you--or maybe you've been here for a while and know what's going down.

So, what now? Perhaps you should take stock of where you are, first...

So, where are you?

1. The Rogueday Market

2. The Backwall Maze

3. The Wordhoard Pit

4. Wraithtown/just outside it

5. A bus/Manifest Station

6. The Roofdom

7. Mr. Speaker's Talklands

8. Puzzleborough

9. Webminster Abbey

10. Unstible's Factory

And who's stumbling upon you? Probably one of these handfuls. Oh, boy; how is this going to turn out?

OOC

1. Pick a place as listed above!
2. Pick a muse to play with--or two or three, or leave it up to me!
3. Say whether our muses have a pre-existing relationship or not (or, again, leave it up to me)!
4. I shall respond with a description of the setting and maybe some plot; you're free to ask for something else if you don't like it!
5. ???
6. Profit!

I would have included descriptions of the places, however, Chrome deleted the TL;DR and I don't feel like typing it up again, so it'll be revealed in the tag. Additionally, if you'd like the museboxing to take place in your muse's world (to turn the tables a bit!) just say so and leave a blurb or link about the world and I'll toss them at you :)

Comments

[Wordhoard Pit]

[buntails.livejournal.com]

[This one? Probably totally fell down a rabbit hole.]

This work, or do you want something else? C:

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[The Wordhoard Pit is actually a giant tower, with an interior that juts deep into the earth. They say that all bookshelves, if you climb high enough, lead to the Pit, and if you manage to dodge the wordcrows and warrior book-tribes of the Middle Shelves, manage to climb very very high, then you might just find yourself clambering out on top of the tower--you can see all of UnLondon from here; the gray sky and strange soft luminescence of the UnSun, which is donut-shaped. The outside of the tower is red brick and the inside is completely hollow, cylindrical, 100 feet in diameter and lined with unimaginable amounts of books. The tunnel below is dim, lights floating at irregular intervals, and people move inside, clinging to the edges of the cases and moving across them in expert scuttles. They wear ropes and hooks and carry picks, notebooks, pens, magnifying glasses, ink pads, and stamps--hanging from straps attached to them.]

[There's a wiry young boy, pale and fair, in shabby clothes sitting on the edge of the tower nearby, too.]

of course it works!

[buntails.livejournal.com]

[Usagi climbs and climbs, without giving the books much attention except for a quick thought that Ami would love this.

Finally, she realizes she's not alone. She stops cold.]

Um. I'm kind of lost. Can you help me?

<3

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[At first, Hemi blinks in surprise.]

...you're not one of the bookaneers--how did you get in the Pit? It's almost impossible to get past reception!

[buntails.livejournal.com]

Um, I don't know anything about 'bookaneers' or reception, but... my name's Usagi.

Where is this?

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[He appraises her for a solid thirty seconds.]

...you're in UnLondon. The Wordhoard Pit, to be exact. Where'd you come from?

[He looks wary, almost as if he expects you to be mean or something.]

[buntails.livejournal.com]

I'm from Tokyo. [He... looks like a foreigner.] In Japan.

[any location; Obaday]

[kittykaasan.livejournal.com]

Hyuuuu. What an interesting place.

[Rogueday Market]

[pincushionhead.livejournal.com]

[Obaday will totally be trying to sell you stuff.]

What are you wearing!? [His horrified look is almost comical, and he'll be picking at your clothes now, yupyup.]

[kittykaasan.livejournal.com]

Hm? A fur coat, of course. Where I was before now, it was rather cold, you see. I suppose I should replace it, then?

[ Fai will be wonderfully compliant with all your marketing schemes. ]

[pincushionhead.livejournal.com]

Fur coats have been out of style for years, my good man. [He pats Fai on the shoulder, lamenting softly with tsks.]

We simply must get you into better attire--and luckily for you I happen to have with me the hautest of couture. [With a flourish and a grin, he holds out his sleeve.] Education while you wear. Beautiful, classical, trim--the invention of the century.

[kittykaasan.livejournal.com]

Has it? Waa, how odd I must look here~!

[ Which is totally not a weird thing to say when he's one of the few who looks like a normal person. ]

Oh, it has a story on it! I've never seen clothes like this... How do you read the words on your back, though?

[ He will be tilting his body to try and read the words on Obaday's back now, yes. ]

[pincushionhead.livejournal.com]

[Obaday will totes to a girly twirl for him.]

Ahh, that's the part of the story you save for home, to relax at the end of a long day~. My tailors can make a dashing outfit out of any text you please.

[Wraithtown, probably Hemi]

[ofearthandorder.livejournal.com]

[ The strange, wavering images were dizzying in their overlaps, and the lack of plant life should have been disconcerting as well-- but somehow, despite not knowing where he was or how he arrived, Uriel felt oddly at home amidst the tall, dark buildings. ]

[Wraithtown--Hemi it is!]

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[The ghosts always get fidgety when there's a stranger in their midst, so they call Hemi, because of course he's the only one who can speak to the fleshies.]

[He steps out suddenly from around a corner, blocking Uriel's path, hands jammed deep into the pockets of his ratty trousers. He really doesn't look all that welcoming.]

What're you doing here? No heartbeaters come to Wraithtown without a reason. If you're some bleeding deadbeat treasure hunter, you're out of luck, you know. The dead don't bring their possessions with 'em.

I have no idea whether or not he'd be able to understand the ghosts...

[ofearthandorder.livejournal.com]

I was not aware they were able.

[ He looks a bit bewildered for a moment, blinking down at Hemi, but the moment passes and he returns to gazing at the buildings as he speaks, mostly to himself. ]

Then this is a realm of the dead. Perhaps it was foolish of me, to think there only one...

[ There's a pause, and then he glances back down at Hemi, then lower to the ground. ]

I apologize for intruding. I would take my leave, however, I...

[ He's lost. ]

hmmm....

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[Hemi doesn't back down.]

Only one? Tch, maybe there's another across the odd and there's Thanatopia, innit?

If you just wandered into Wraithtown, mate, I'm surprised you've lived this long.

he can apparently speak telepathically? his voice doesn't work much; as he is it's greatly amplified

[ofearthandorder.livejournal.com]

This long.

[ For a moment, he almost seems to smile, but the expression lacks mirth and disappears quickly. ]

I only knew of Hades. This place... is named Wraithtown, then?

oh wow o wo;;

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[Hemi raises an eyebrow. Nutter.]

Yeah, and the residents aren't used to heartbeaters.

Rogueday Market, with Hemi

[totallynotaspaz.livejournal.com]

[Danny is peering around slowly, curiously.

He has no idea where he is and is trying to figure out his location before he starts panicking.]

8D this sound okay?

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[It's big, full of stalls and scores of people, movement, the bustle of a market. There are costumes and colors, the sky is gray and clouds float off in different directions with minds of their own. The UnSun is a donut shape of soft white light that doesn't hurt to look at and, unbeknownst to you, rises in a different place each day.]

[Around you are people in all kinds of uniforms, all of which look like dress-up costumes--just a little too simple and neat. Others are in hotchpotch outfits of rags, patchworks of skins, or sometimes taped-together bits of plastic. The people themselves are occasionally colors that people should never be, have extra or missing limbs or extrusions and concavities, and sometimes they aren't people at all, but bears in suits arguing over bouquets of tools or lobsters in floral print. No one will blame you for being overwhelmed, Danny.]

[There's a boy, lanky, lean, wiry, fair and dressed shabbily. You might be lucky enough to see him pass right by you and expertly nick a tennis ball from a stand, then bite into it, juices dribbling down his chin and a triumphant smirk on his face.]

yep!

[totallynotaspaz.livejournal.com]

[Overwhelmed? Oh yeah.

Danny doesn't know where to even begin looking. His eyes are under assault and he wants to stare at everything--everything is so unusual!--and try to figure out what's going on, but then something just out of view catches his eye, and then something else, and then something else on top of that---

But Danny's eyes finally settle when he spots a boy stealing a tennis ball. At least THAT'S normal enough.]

H-hey! You--you can't just--!

[Did he just.]

...Did you just bite into a tennis ball?

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

[Hemi jolts to a stop--he's made a career out of not being noticed. Normally he'd just scram before this kid could out him, but the question stops him.]

What else do you expect me to do with it, play fetch?

[And his tone is sarcastic enough that you know he doesn't expect you to say yes. ]

[totallynotaspaz.livejournal.com]

[oh god, that tone. Danny suddenly feels a lot smaller.]

Well...yes?

Or, you know. Play tennis. Since. It's a tennis ball, and all...

[alt-shopper.livejournal.com]

--who plays tennis with a tennis ball?

[Looking at you like you have two heads. Except there are some creatures here who actually do have two heads.]

You're not from around here, are ya?