staringdownthebarrelofa45: (Default)
[personal profile] staringdownthebarrelofa45 posting in [community profile] fhlogs
Arrival

The sound of a motorcycle is not unusual in these parts. Cloud Strife is often out and about making deliveries for his business. This, however, is not the familiar sound of Fenrir. It’s a different, more ominous motor, usually heard out in the wastelands. A silver-haired ghost, some residents say. Most seem too intimidated to venture farther.

Anyone who does may see a strange motorcycle being driven, indeed, by a silver-haired spectre. Not Sephiroth, but another who seems to embody his same ethereal, otherworldly beauty. Dead or alive, who can tell? He pays no particular attention to you, unless for some reason he thinks you might know. Then he may ride up and block your path.

“Where are the others?”

A soft voice, yet filled with concern, confusion, and a hint of danger.

Around Town

He can also be spotted wandering around Edge. He always has a strange look to him, as if only part of him is in the here and now and the other is somewhere else, perhaps even on another plane of existence.

Again he has no particular interest in interacting with anyone unless he has to. He shops briefly at some of the market stalls before taking a peach (did he pay for that?) and eating it as he wanders off again.

Well, apparently he’s alive then.

Haunted House

Whoever this person is, he did not move into the hotel. He seems, however, to be looking for a place he wants to live in.

One location he tries is an old mansion in Sector 4, said to have belonged to a Shinra bigwig. Everyone in the area knows the rumors that the place is haunted, and that said bigwig refused to live in the house despite hanging on to it because of it being his ancestral home.

If you happen to see the mysterious young man go inside this place, you can choose to do nothing ... or you can choose to follow him. But you’ll end up subjected to a variety of haunted house experiences, most likely. Do you have the courage to stay on? Does this stranger have the patience to, especially as the ghosts get increasingly determined to oust you both?

Wildcard

Have another idea? Let’s try it!

Me, unhappy to be here - OTA

Jan. 5th, 2026 02:54 am
memories_of_me: (Please be less stupid)
[personal profile] memories_of_me posting in [community profile] fhlogs
Me was not pleased to find herself here. She had been offered a room but had refused. Her home, all the home she needed, was shrunk down and in her pocket. Along with all her most important belongings. Save the one she wore around her neck hidden by her shirt.

For those who had not yet met her, she was a bit... interesting to see. Or, rather, her clothing was. Me herself just looked like a short young woman. But the way she was dressed...

It wasn't just the black silk button down with the silver buttons carved in Gallifreyan. The neck of the shirt went up just shy of her chin and down to be tucked into her pleated skirt. The skirt was jet black with silver pleats and two silver buttons at one hip. No, it was mostly the leggings. They were black, darker even than vantablack somehow. It was as though the black was an absence. Over that void black were dots of silver that seemed almost to glow against the darkness of her leggings. They were in a pattern that few would recognize. They were the constellations, the stars and planets that could be seen from Gallifrey in the last years of reality. One by one, slowly, each light went out, in the order the stars and worlds went out as everything ended. The whole thing would take about an hour then the lights would all reappear at once, then the cycle would start again.

The leggings were tucked into silver and black slouch socks. She also had black sneakers with silver laces and rubber. Her hair was in a tight braid down her back held closed with a silver and black scrunchie. She had a small silver and diamond nose stud and diamond earrings, because why not.

She rested a hand over the pocket in her skirt on the far side from the buttons. The Tardis was there, thankfully. She just needed to figure out where to place it until she could leave.

She strode down the road, looking for an empty place to settle, hoping not to see or talk to anyone.

Sadly, she knew what her luck was like...
denise: Image: Me, facing away from camera, on top of the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome (Default)
[staff profile] denise posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance

Привет and welcome to our new Russian friends from LiveJournal! We are happy to offer you a new home. We will not require identification for you to post or comment. We also do not cooperate with Russian government requests for any information about your account unless they go through a United States court first. (And it hasn't happened in 16 years!)

Importing your journal from ЖЖ may be slow. There are a lot of you, with many posts and comments, and we have to limit how fast we download your information from ЖЖ so they don't block us. Please be patient! We have been watching and fixing errors, and we will go back to doing that after the holiday is over.

I am very sorry that we can't translate the site into Russian or offer support in Russian. We are a much, much smaller company than LiveJournal is, and my high school Russian classes were a very long time ago :) But at least we aren't owned by Sberbank!

С Новым Годом, and welcome home!

EDIT: Большое спасибо всем за помощь друг другу в комментариях! Я ценю каждого, кто предоставляет нашим новым соседям информацию, понятную им без необходимости искать её в Google. :) И спасибо вам за терпение к моему русскому переводу с помощью Google Translate! Прошло уже много-много лет со школьных времен!

Thank you also to everyone who's been giving our new neighbors a warm welcome. I love you all ❤️

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