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open post of openness

Aug. 26th, 2007 | 11:57 pm

It's a beautiful morning, and Juliet's typist isn't very good at open posts Juliet can be found outside, in the beginning of the forest, lying on her back beneath a tree, staring up into its branches. One hand is plucking idly at the grass beside her. She would welcome company of any kind, especially if company-mun is better at this than hers.

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[Open post]

Jun. 15th, 2007 | 02:01 am

Juliet has been something of a recluse since her arrival at the Mansion, but recently has taken to leaving her commandeered room once in a while, to poke furtively around this strange place. She looks into a number of rooms before finding someone...

Typist: --because I'm too lame to come up with a better open post. Anyway. Open - please! - to any and everyone.

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Open post! Attn: -- ... anyone.

Apr. 16th, 2007 | 12:56 am

Juliet has been naive enough to partake of the iced tea that just so conveniently happened to be in the Mansion refrigerator (or one of them, at least; surely a place like this has more than one fridge), and is now paying for her folly by being time-switched out of her own century into... the 1950s. As far as she's concerned, the year is 1955, Bill Haley is pretty hot stuff, and James Dean's death is one of the worst tragedies to ever befall her (excluding, of course, that whole situation with the Montague boy).

Since that first sip of iced tea, she's taken herself and her refilled glass out to the (a) living room, where she's free to be interrupted by anyone at all.

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[open post]

Nov. 14th, 2006 | 03:57 pm
location: a rose garden, the grounds
riddling confession: contemplativecontemplative

It is not long after sunrise, and Juliet has been walking. The effects of Draco's potion are with her yet, though slightly worn off by now.

The air is cold with the onset of winter - accordingly, the girl wears a heavy, warm gown. She has not adopted the more modern attire which she has seen worn by others around her at the Mansion. Perhaps someday, when she feels more comfortable being here at all; but today, this cold, crisp morning, she is just Juliet of the house of Capulet, though displaced.

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Because Juliet so keeps a diary~~

Apr. 14th, 2006 | 02:27 am

I dreamt - I know not how, nor know not why -
That years did pass, and I lay 'neath the earth.
A dream, it was, and yet no easy lie,
For still I quake, as one in comfort's dearth.
A dream, 'tis all; in sleep my troubles find
A wedding bed to lie'n with my mind.
I cannot shake it off, this ache of death,
It haunts me yet, within each passing breath.

All that I may herein so halting write:
I fear the lonely day, but worse the night.

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[Enter Juliet]

Apr. 2nd, 2006 | 02:43 am

O, what a place is this! more than friend, foe
Mine eye doth seem to see; and yet in fear,
I shall quake not, if find I yet my Romeo;
An have I him, then shall I call all faces dear.
Ay, quick, then, speak! and tell me only this,
If Romeo shouldst live, and live herein; speak, quick!
For mine heart's ache can bear no more of silence,
When it be silence of Romeo, then doth it shift
To be no silence, but Death's loathsome bell,
For lacking a Romeo, this world doth lack all grace,
Then should I find myself once more in Hell,
With silent tears to be found 'pon my face.
No palmer's holy kiss, nor balm of sweetest thrall:
An I live without my love, it be no life at all.

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