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Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in
aolist's InsaneJournal:
| Monday, August 16th, 2010 | | 8:41 pm |
Soldier thrown by Chocobo (previously titled 'Some guy can't ride'. Someone, either a castmate or the auction folks, convinced her to change the title.) - Oil on wood. Portrait. Subject is five Figaro soldiers mounted on chocobos dashing through the gates of Figaro into the desert. One unfortunate soldier has been thrown by his chocobo and is falling, his distress catching the attention of his partners.
Sunrise over Kiera Mountains – Oil and pastel on canvas. Landscape. The view from the highest point of Figaro Castle at sunrise. The sun in shining behind the mountains in the east of the Kiera Desert and reflecting off the sea to the far east. Korua Island can be seen in the distance, little more than a blur. There is a misake on this, though it's been covered up and painted and only the FF6 cast would be likely to notice it – Relm started to paint Kohlingen in the distance from memory.
Airships – Oil and pastel on wood, textured using sand mixed in with underpaint. Exactly what it says in the title. Portrait. A view of Lindblum's airship docks from below, painted partly from memory and partly from an assortment of reference sketches done in Lindblum after initially arriving and before and after the shrine mission. The sun shines through the gaps between airships in the unusually crowded docks, reflecting off the metal parts of their hulls.
Chocobo Stables – Oil on canvas, landscape, a fairly simple picture of workers mucking out Figaro's chocobo stables. Bird armour hangs from the wall in the background and in the foreground two chocobos watch the workers.
Still Life of Flowers and Stone – Easily the simplest of the paintings, Oil on square canvas. A still life of a large vase of flowers with a strange orange stone (The tauros stone, if anyone would recognise it) shaped like a pair of horns beside them. Light reflects from the stone, leaving small fragments of reflected orange light across the vase and flowers. | | Wednesday, July 14th, 2010 | | 11:48 pm |
BUTTS FOR TOOTING
Tayler's home country of BUTTS FOR TOOTING is a hot, dry place between the green plains of the north (and the flooded lands and boat cities of the northern north. Legends say that the dark water there is the inkwell used by the scribe of everything and that when the water runs dry the world will stop and exist in a perpetual state on incompletion) and the south-whose-sky-was-stolen (a forever sunless land of mostly forest with unpredictable temperatures and high humidity where they live in a black and grey world and wars are fought over the rare and valuable dyes that can give them colour and social status is determined by how much one's outfit clashes). The surface land is miles above sea level and is rocky and mostly infertile, though gardens can be kept with proper care. Crops are grown from the sides of the high cliffs or in the network of tunnels below the surface. Some people choose to live below the surface, too, but there weren't any serious settlements there and tunnelfolk are looked down upon because they don't get radio down there
In the centre of BUTTS FOR TOOTING is the great city of WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN, built in the shadow of what people from another world might call a BIG FUCKING SPACESHIP. For the people of BUTTS FOR TOOTING it is the act of a god. Their source of life and knowledge.
Selling souls is SRS BSNS across the whole world. While it's technically illegal and immoral, black market Shamanism gives buyers love, power, money, all for the low low price of doing a few errands when it's all over. It's only really still illegal because nobody can figure out how to tax souls. The good deeds done in life are the secret ingredient of the dyes that the colourless southern 'greyfolk' crave and there are rumours that some shamans can even offer second chances at life.
The machinefolk, a race of travelling mad scientists who graft scavenged metal onto their bodies and paint themselves with flame decals and expect it to work,also live in BUTTS FOR TOOTING.
Technology is at about the late-40's-ish England level for richer areas. Much of it was reverse-engineered from the workings of the BIG FUCKING SPACESHIP. Black and white TVs exist and richer areas share one between the area. Only those with ALL YOUR YENS MONAYZ have one in a home. Radios are more common, many households have their own. The machinefolk have created some devices that are more advanced. They have also grafted electrical wires onto their nerves and made it work so they're kinda not included in 'the world in general'.
Also magic is dying, the southern not-sky is beginning to encroach upon everyone else's sky, the dark water of the northern north is drying away and more and more children are being stillborn. In this upsetting time and with radio as big as it is, MUSIC IS 10000% SRS BSNS. As is gambling.
Idek. | | Monday, May 3rd, 2010 | | 1:10 am |
| | Thursday, April 15th, 2010 | | 3:27 am |
SO FAR
(3:14:47 AM) pickledotgif: After the grought uses the door there is a brief, chaotic mess of everyone's phone giving its 'you got a message!' tone before the group arrives anywhere. The offending message is 'Thank you for using our online booking system! Your ticket number is 4. Please enjoy your day!
(3:15:19 AM) pickledotgif: *sroup
(3:15:21 AM) pickledotgif: *group
(3:15:56 AM) AletheiaShimon: Renju pulls out her phone--when was the last time she'd gotten a message?--and looks at it quizzically.
(3:16:11 AM) pickledotgif: They leave the fort and enter paradise in a narrow street. The noises of the city come from the left side, where the street seems to lead to a main road and the familiar blinding light that somehow doesn't illuminate. The silhouettes of cars and buses move by on the larger road but this side street seems deserted. Small shops line the street - a book shop, a pet shop, a pharmacy and a small café are the most clear. The others have windows boarded over or signs scrawled on with paint. All are closed, though figures can be seem moving inside. The right side of the street seems to be crumbling away into the same light.
(3:16:52 AM) pickledotgif: Directly in front of the group is a building that a sign indicates is the 'museum of the paranormal'. The building itself has no windows, though the single door does. It's difficult to see what's beyond it, it's not a clean window, but there is an 'open' sign hanging in it.
(3:17:13 AM) A necktie party entered the room.
(3:20:54 AM) xKing of Liesx: "Strange. I don't give people my number out of choice. It must be something strange about this place, I guess." Then he looked around and saw that Renju had - curiously - taken out her phone, but when they came out into a larger part of Paradise he didn't know what to make of the magnitude of the difference between the areas. He was gazing left and right and the light had a disturbingly familiar memory. "That's like the place at Aomori-sensei's."
(3:22:29 AM) AletheiaShimon: Renju stops puzzling over her phone for long enough to look up. "That light?" It rang another bell, a more recent one than that. "It was in Furukawa-san's, too."
(3:23:34 AM) SeiyaryuDreamer entered the room.
(3:24:10 AM) Acrid Rag Doll: Kiriko is puzzling in the direction of the offending text message. She finally snaps the phone shut and gazes critically at the museum across the street. "Figures it would be something like this. Creepy kid."
(3:25:06 AM) SeiyaryuDreamer: Misaki looks sprised by the message.
(3:25:53 AM) SeiyaryuDreamer: "Exactly what does this mean?" She glances around at the others.
(3:26:58 AM) sevensinsymphony: Masami pulls out her phone and looks at the message she's received for a long moment before putting it away. She tightens her grip on her bokken. "He's probably... Well, we should get moving," she says before going up to the doors of the museam.
(3:26:59 AM) AngeIoftheNlGHT entered the room. | | Wednesday, March 10th, 2010 | | 11:12 pm |
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