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Miles Cross
A Livejournal "Changeling: The Lost" Game
Now 
Generic NPC
A red-haired young woman (OOC: looking very like a younger version of this, but without the hat) dressed in a Hawthorne Academy uniform gets off the bus and makes her way down the block to the library.

Once inside, she makes straight for the reference desk. "Excuse me," she asks the person behind the desk, "but do you have any books on folk tales?"
All things are quite silent on the streets of Miles Cross. It's that hour where even the streetlamps seem tired, and dawn is yet a long ways off. The air is cool and misty. Here and there, perhaps a stray dog or cat might pad quietly from one alley to another, but even then it is only for a change of bedding. It's the hour ruled by insomniacs and night owls, and no one else. So still is the air, one can hear the distant roar of the ocean even on the furthest edges of town.

From deep within an alley, just off the center of town, there comes a sudden buldge. A racoon, searching for scraps of food amoung the trash cans, watches on in fear and confusion. Reality, as mortals understand it, steps aside with a whisper and a soft glow.

A short and furred figure arrives from a place that can not logically exist. In its arms is a small wooden box, deep red in color and with intricate carvings on all of its sides. Not even stopping to look at the surroundings, the newcomer bursts with amazing speed into the street, down the road and along the country lane. There it disappears into the forests surrounding Miles Cross and into the night.

Unfreezing from it's terror, the racoon slowly starts to move out of the alley, not wanting to be anywhere near this place any longer. It moves carefully, lest it disturb something its most basic instinct insists should not be disturbed.

Before the racoon completes its retreat from the narrow passage, reality again looks the other way for a moment. A broad shouldered figure the color of lead drags itself along and back into the world. It moves wearily, pulling itself along the cracked and ruined asphalt of the alleyway with its fingers. At the sight of this, the racoon gives in the urge to flee, and skitters out into the street towards another alley. The latest arrival takes no notice, but kicks and crawls away from whence it came. Its movement are pained, and taken only with the greatest of effort. Out into the street it goes, grunting and cursing.

Finally, the figure's energy depleted, it falls heavily against a random door. The door nearly cracks as if struck with a great mass. There it succumbs to fatigue, not knowing if it is house or apartment or store that it has laid at.

((OOC: Open to all.))
12th-Oct-2007 02:13 pm - Moonshadows, late Friday evening
not quite right
Gail sits in a booth a few feet away from the tiny stage at Moonshadows and tries to relax; she has been sizing up both the performers and the crowd for a little over an hour. She crosses and then uncrosses her legs. **This won’t exactly fit with the 'keep hidden' advice that cobweb-covered Professor gave me, but I can’t just quit performing. It’s what I do, what I am. I'd be admiting defeat if I stopped. There’s no use putting it off any longer, either.**

When it is her time on the docket to perform, she takes her place alone on the stage. After calmly adjusting the mic she addresses the audience. "Evening, thanks for coming out. I feel like playing some blues tonight, so I’ll go with some Lead Belly."

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12th-Oct-2007 11:50 am - Outside the Blue Rose
Thomas
((OOC: Continued from here, which was in turn continued from there. Be mindful of continuity.))

The wind has picked up since Thomas and Fiona had left the coffee shop. The choppy weather she had mentioned earlier seems to have come back around and made landfall. While there is no rain yet, the low and heavy clouds overhead promise a downpour all too soon. Evening has become night with the oncoming rain. It may not be a full fledged storm, but it looks like things will definitely get wet.

Thomas and Fiona walk/run towards the Blue Rose. His hand on the way over keeps reaching for hers, as if to make sure she's real. As they approach the building, he looks at her. "Is this it?"
11th-Oct-2007 01:43 pm - About Town And School
Small square posters have started to appear about town on utility poles, shop windows and school notice boards. They are simple black and white photocopies with bold lettering, the only embellishment being the drawing of a thornbush beneath the phone number.

CERTIFIED ACADEMIC TUTOR
ACCREDITED PIANO TEACHER
REASONABLE RATES BY THE HOUR
PRIVATE LESSONS, HOME OR STUDIO
SATISFACTON GUARENTEED WITH WILLING STUDENTS
ASK FOR PROFESSOR KEYS AT THE TOWN LIBRARY
555-555-5555


A slightly larger version of the poster is pinned to the bulletin board of the town library.
Matthew sits on the stairs leading into the boys' dorm. Dressed in his grey sweatsuit , he's tying his sneakers. He nods pleasantly to passerbys as he starts to stretch out. **I can get a quick run in and then finish up my Math homework.**
5th-Oct-2007 10:11 am - Early Afternoon, The Town Library
Professor Keys limps his way towards the Library doors, ready for the start of his evening shift. His heavy cane thunks against the sidewalk with each shuffling step, warning all ahead to give way or face the cantakerous old man. He takes the steps slowly, pausing after each to seemingly let his joints recover from the effort. Any passerbys daring enough to look at him in pity get a nasty scowl of scorn in return; those who nod in wary greeting are granted a begrudging grunt. Those wise enough to ignore him are ignored in turn.

With nary a comment to his co-workers, The Professor steps behind the reference and information desk to sign in for the start of his shift. His eyes scarely take in the students at their study or the residents at their reading.
hardest math problem in the world
It is a quiet afternoon in downtown Miles Cross, as patrons of the retail stores file out to find some dinner. Hawthorne student John Reach makes his way off the city bus and walks leisurely down the sidewalk and over to Moonshadows. He thoughts mull over his day as he plans for the new year.

**Okay, I'm not totally happy with the elective choices this year, I've got to think about what would look good on a college resume... damn, I should schedule another appointment with my councellor.**

Passing through the door of one of his favorite hangouts he pauses to inhale deeply. "Ahhh. But first, an espresso!"
15th-Sep-2007 10:35 am - Changing of the Seasons
Summer Court
((OOC: All changeling characters are welcome here!))

On a night in September in Miles Cross, Massachusetts, the night wind whistles through the trees, its faint chill carrying the promise of autumn after the summer-like heat of the day.

Within the Milescross Lyceum Theatre, the lights are low, the atmosphere solemn, yet carrying an undercurrent of excitement.

The Summer King, Kellin Ebonwing, stands on the stage, looking like a statue carved from ebony and alabaster. The night-darkness of the Draconic's hair and solid-black eyes contrasts with the alabaster whiteness of his skin. Black-feathered wings, partially furled, sprout from his shoulders, their tips nearly reaching the floor. The blackness of his armor seems to absorb rather than reflect the light, and the Crown of Summer, a simple golden circlet set with rubies, is upon his brow.

"Members of the freehold of Miles Cross, hear me!" he calls out in a voice that reaches every corner of the room. "Tonight, we mark the changing of the seasons from Summer into Autumn. As the Summer dies, so too does the Summer King surrender to the Autumn Queen."

He beckons to a slender, pale-skinned fae in the front row. "Celine D'Ombre, now is your turn to reign!"
11th-Aug-2007 10:41 am - The obligatory disclaimer
Milescross Mod
This is a community for a Changeling: The Lost game called Miles Cross. The people and events described in this journal are not real.

Miles Cross, Massachusetts is a fictional town. Don't bother looking for it on maps or on Google Earth.

If you think that you, or any of the players in this game, are actual changelings as described in White Wolf's Changeling: The Lost, you should seek professional help.
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