This is the in-character community for a Livejournal-based Changeling: The Dreaming game I GMed from April 2004 to June 2005.
Nothing in here is real. If you the reader think that it is, or that you, or any of the authors of these posts, are an actual changeling as described in White Wolf's Changeling: The Dreaming, seek professional help.
The gymnasium in Redwood is gaily decorated with flowers, pastel streamers and glittering ornaments of various shapes suspended from the ceiling. A chimerical tapestry with the image of a rampant gryphon on it hangs prominently, its colors glowing to faerie sight with the Glamour only dreams can give. Soft music issues from the speakers of a sound system against one wall.
A table covered with a dark green cloth rests against another wall; on it are neatly arranged plastic goblets, a large crystal bowl of punch, and silver platters holding a number of kinds of confections – cookies, cakes, brownies, and other assorted sweets - as well as savory treats such as phyllo dough squares, canapes, and other hors d'oeuvres. A stack of gaily-colored plates and flatware rests on one corner of the table. To faerie sight, the clear plastic goblets are transformed to elegant crystal, the plates and crockery to delicate china and silverware, each piece of the latter ornamented with a tiny chimerical emerald in the handle. The gym is transformed into something out of a faerie tale, the lights throwing a soft, flattering glow on the parquet floor and marble columns.
Clad in an elaborate gown of lavender silk, her silver hair bound up with a string of amethysts, Lady Illyrie herself offers her greetings to the attendees. Beside her, Lord Julien, looking elegant in a black tuxedo, greets the incoming students with a bit less formality, though more effusiveness, than the headmistress.
Rita-Anne should have been in her room, but she was too miserable to be there. Besides, Terry would be there, and Terry was the last person she wanted to see right now. He'd just say "it's all for the best," or "it's part of your duty," or even "Oh, grow up, Rita-Anne! It's not like we haven't done this before." So she did her crying in the common’s room, and was pretty sure that no one would be around to hear her.
Merry knocked on Ash's door, the hall seeming still at the late hour.
the piskey was dressed in her practice outfit and had a gym bag.
Willy is working on his usual Sunday supper, happily humming as he mashes up the potatoes and adds in sourcream and butter to them. The smell permiates the hall as he goes along with his cooking. "Well I hope the people interested in cooking lessons show for desert day." He thinks to himself as he works along.
Alexi nervously bites his lower lip for a moment and then goes up and knocks on the door for the room that Willy and Horus share. One of his hooves tap nervously at the floor as he waits for the door to be answered.
Helli, with her hair tied up with a purple ribbon, walks over to Gudge. "Hi. I hear you're putting together a robotics competition. Is it true?"
Xandros makes his way down the hall, trying to be as silent as he can. He is carrying a large envelope marked "To Longshadow" which he slips under the sluagh's door. Inside are several mix cd's and a simple note that reads, "Longshadow, I thought you would enjoy these. They're a mix of my favorites. - Alexandros"
Spindle rubs at his face, his eyes bleary and bloodshot. The furthest-most workbench from the door has been commandeered by his materials and tools, and the blueprints tacked in multiple layers on the wall.
What the fuck am I doing?
He lets his hands fall away. Staring bleakly at the half-rebuilt Monadic Extractor, he sighs heavily.
I can recalibrate the whole damn thing for the estimated load, but I don't have clue one whether or not the estimations are anywhere near correct. And the batteries... I need at least six, but then what do I DO with the fucking things when.... when...
He sighs again.