paradisalost | Entries tagged with brock samson

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Backdated to a reasonable hour on Christmas Eve!

Brock is running around downtown Paris like an idiot, peering into shops to see which ones are closed. He rushes inside the ones that are open, but always leaves quickly after discerning they don't have exactly what he wants.

He usually isn't That Guy that shops on Christmas Eve, you see. Usually. It's just that, well, the present he'd had wrapped up for his really terrifying and violent fiancee happened to not come with them from the castle to Paris, and he wasn't really looking forward to getting stabbed in the leg for supposedly shirking gift-giving, so ... he was in a bit of a bind.

The journal may pick up the sounds of him swearing quietly under his breath as he continues looking for a gift.

This is pretty stupid.]

[ooc. open for kisses, unplanned or planned! ♥]

itwas-raining.livejournal.com

Who:

gottaknockhard,

itwas_raining,

icarustattoo,

mc_blackheart
What: Spike tried to warn Julia about what happens in Paradisa during Christmas, and then, in an attempt to actually be useful for once in his life, convinced her that they should get out of the castle to avoid it. Did it work?
When: Backdated to December 7
Where: ~~The Love Shack~~ That random cabin in the woods where all the stuff happens. All the stuff.
Rating: Um. PG-13. idk.

( It's a little old place where we can get together..... )

mal-addict.livejournal.com

Who: Brock and Maladict
What: Utterly failing to find Joshua and being assaulted by fairies.
When: December 5th
Where: Out in the Paradisan wilderness, on the powered side.
Rating: Proobably no more than PG-13.

( Squishy and prone to hypothermia )

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[So this is backdated to Sunday, after this thing happened.

Brock is speaking into the journal! Neat! There are also loud as fuck alarms blaring in the background, and Brock himself is shouting to be heard above them. He sounds pretty mad, too. But what else is new, really.]

Right, so that creepy kid was set loose from the jail. So if somebody could track him down and throw his ass back in a cell, that'd be, you know, great.

A guard was assaulted in the escape, so doctors or somebody need to head down here.

[As Brock shuts the journal, you might be able to pick up his voice snapping at somebody. He'll respond to comments as soon as the alarms get shut off; he has a headache. :| ]

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Brock's out in the woods by his cabin again, like he does, his journal open in case another giant commotion happens on the expedition side again. Not like he can do anything from way out here, but it makes him feel a little less ... useless, maybe, to know what's going on.

He is throwing knives at a target he's got set up, and the open journal might pick up the rhythmic thock thock thock sound as he hits it dead center every time.

He pauses to pen a filter, then continues throwing knives as he dictates to the pages.]

[Filtered away from First Gens or whatever and people who would tell them about this I guess]
So, not to make a shitty situation worse, but seeing as how everybody on the expedition is like ... trapped, kinda, for the time being anyway -- should we maybe plan this stuff out better in the future? I mean, more than half the castle's competent fighters are out playing Sepulcher Thief. Indefinitely now, with no real way of getting out, right? Yeah.

So what if those jackasses in the iron suits come and fuck shit up again? It happened when nobody was around before, and big obvious unfiltered cave-ins going across the journals isn't that inconspicuous. I'm just saying. We need to be more careful.

[He's done with that thought, because that's all he wanted to say. What a paranoid jackass you are, Samson! Gosh.

He's got something else to say though, so again there is a pause in his throwing knives as he pens another filter.]

( Fenris )

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[People can build bonfires and burn effigies all they want -- some guys (lowercase G) have work to do!

One of whom is Brock. He has work to do.

That work is, of course, patching up the huge fuckoff hole in the side of his dumb cabin. He is out in the woods right now, though he's more staring at the huge fuckoff hole than doing any sort of repair. How does one even fix a hole in a log cabin. Does he need to knock down the whole wall ...

Making a frustrated noise, he flips his journal open.]

I lost my lumberjack. Does anyone cut down trees for fun, or do I have to go find an axe?

-- and Crowley. I hope you got a steering lock for your goddamn car.

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[After spending the better part of the day holing up in his dumb cabin out in the woods (and continually raking leaves around it), Brock sits down and actually opens the journal to see what the haps is.

Oh, everyone's still locked out of the castle. Uhhh. Hm.

Despite his tendency to be a huge asshole, Brock is still a good person, deep down. He can't really stand to see so many people being forced to like, sleep out in leaf piles, so ...

He sighs and dictates into the journal, his voice a little low.]

So, if anybody still hasn't found a place to hang out until this lock-out thing blows over, I have a cabin in the woods. There's not much to it, but it's not outside, for those of you who aren't cool with the whole 'sleeping under the stars' thing.

[A pause, as he looks over his shoulder to make sure Molotov is still asleep. She is, so he turns back to the journal and lowers his voice even more.]

Uh. Molotov's with me too, so if she doesn't like you, I'd probably try to find somewhere else if I were you. Or like, at least be really quiet.

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Today, Brock's in the gym. He is smoking a cigarette because he's weird/an asshole with no respect for anyone, and he's also dressed in a karate gi.

Strange things.

Apart from just standing there doing all of the previously mentioned, he's also dictating into the journal.]

This is Brock Samson. So awhile back, I mentioned I'd start training people in Judo, or whatever kind of close-quarters combat training you'd want. Then stuff got weird and stupid here, and I got busy. So.

Anyway. If anybody wants to do that, meet me in the gym.

I don't even know who's still here that expressed interest before, but new people can show up too. I don't really care.

[A pause, and then he figures he actually needs to say this. Because people in Paradisa dress like they are cosplaying 24/7.]

Just don't wear anything stupid when you show up. This isn't a costume party; I don't want anyone tripping on flowing robes or something and cracking a tooth.

[ooc. open in person or over the journal!]

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Good evening, Paradisa! Are you enjoying whatever it is you're doing? Well, that's about to be interrupted -- it's time for the journal to do that thing it does, wherein it falls open and picks up in the middle of a conversation.

The two people having a conversation happen to be Brock and Molotov.]

Just show it to me, I am sure it is not that bad.

You can't laugh. It's probably smaller than you're used to.

Brock, I have seen it before, you know.

[Stalling] Well, not up close ...

I would never laugh, Samson.

[SIGH] Alright, fine. Whatever.

[There is a pause.]

Hmmmmmm.

What. What does that mean, 'Hmm'?

[Hesitantly] I suppose... it is not so small...

What, are you kidding? It's tiny compared to my real one. This place sucks.

[Sigh...] Okay, da. It is tiny. But... well, everyone has a loss. I am sure you are not the only man around who lost something like this.

[Brock just grumbles, still feeling defensive and annoyed about the whole thing. It sucks! Everything is horrible.] Well, they probably don't use it as much as I do.

You wouldn't have used it that much here anyway. You barely ever use this little one.

Well ... it's the principle of the thing.

Poor baby. Perhaps you would feel better if you figured out some way to use this one creatively.

[Smirking] Creatively, huh?

Well, I can think of a few things.

[ooc. open over the journal!]

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[It's taken him longer than he'd thought, between people blowing shit up and world changes and evil guys needing to be socked in the face.

But finally, his Cool Guy Cabin is complete.

So, Brock's out in the woods on the front porch of this totally badass cabin of his, dictating into the journal.]

[Filtered from any jackass who might fuck up my cabin.]
Alright, so that cabin I mentioned awhile ago is finished.

If anyone wants to come hang out, you can. Just don't be an asshole.

Uh, and no kids. Sorry.

[ooc. loss start! any responses over the journal will take place before puppification, but if anyone stops by the cabin, there will be a distinct lack of huge swedish man ... and one extra puppy. :) have fun!]

nishimono.livejournal.com

[ Now provoked, Arthas, Riful, Legato, Hank, and Joshua have all left the manor. It sits alone, occupied now only by five hostages:

Jaina Proudmoore
Kaylee Frye
Kallen Kouzuki
Maya Fey
Asano Rin

...and their jailers, Billy & Nikola Tesla.

While their wrists and ankles remain bound ~~sans impaling~~ in a similar fashion to last time their location is vastly improved--they've been granted a ballroom-esque room in which to be chained on the main floor.

( Chained, and watched ) ]

[[ ooc; Sections: Hostages/Villains | Rescuers | Rescue + Fight (TBA)

chats:
rescueisgo (for rescue)
shonenspeeches (general plot chat)

If you would like to explore the manor & figure out more about what's there, just toss me an IM @ we were british ]]

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Brock is heading back from the woods, through playing lumberjack for the evening. He's got a cigarette in his mouth as per usual, and is either deep in thought or has a mind as blank as a sheet of paper. It's kind of hard to tell with that Dumb Ape expression of his.

As the castle comes into view though, he stops kind of abruptly, pauses for a second, then takes out his journal and dictates into it.]

I just sort of realized that I've been here for a year. Missed the ... anniversary ... if you can call it that. 'cause of the whole seafaring adventure thing.

Is there something that people do to celebrate this bullshit? Or is that a dumb question? The hell would you be celebrating anyway.

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[After spending the past day fixing up his stupid dumb room after those stupid dumb guys ransacked it -- or whatever the hell happened, he still isn't quite clear about that -- Brock decided to go out into the woods to check on the cabin he'd been building.

Surely those guys -- those mysterious, jackassy guys -- wouldn't need to wreck something innocuous as a halfway-built cabin in the middle of nowhmother of fuck.

His cabin seems to have a bunch of holes in it, almost as if it were the scene of some awesome shoot-out or something. What wondrous, cool battle techniques were seen here? Who was victorious? Who threw a big stick or a battering ram or a lance or something through every single goddamn window?

Important questions.

Important questions that Brock succinctly asks to nobody in particular, but especially to the journal, which just happens to be lying innocently nearby, open on a rock or something.]

What the fuck?!

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

( Peace Patrol. )

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Welp. Brock has very little interest in fighting vampires, so he figures he'll leave that to people who know what the hell they're doing.

There seem to be a lot of guys around like that, anyway. Vampire hunters. So Brock will let them play to their strengths, while he'll play to his.

He's currently in the lobby, smoking, and picks up his journal to dictate into it.]

I kind of lost my student awhile ago, and the guy who was organizing this stuff left too, I guess.

So, uh, if anybody's up for learning hand-to-hand and melee range combat, I'll teach you. Judo, if that means anything to you where you're from.

If there's a lot of interest or whatever, I guess I could make it like a regular thing in the cabin, once that's done.

Name's Brock, by the way.

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[It's nearly midnight, and where the hell is Brock Samson? Snuggled away in some weird, fake impossible magic bliss with his girl and their fake impossible magic baby?

No.

He's actually walking around the lobby, looking utterly exhausted/pissed off. With said baby in his arms, a little girl about two years old with big blue eyes and curly red hair, wearing what little girls wear to bed.

Brock also has neon purple nail polish on.

And a cat sticker right in the middle of his forehead.

This is exactly what he'd always wanted out of fake impossible magic parenthood.]

molotov

Who: Brock and Molotov
What: It's just Brock's luck that he somehow has a child with Molotov, and he didn't even get to tap that.
When: Shortly after babbies appear!
Where: Room 509.
Rating: PG-13 because there is probably going to be swearing.

( Brock's worst nightmare. )

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Filtered away from anybody who would use this information to be a jackass.]
[Dictated!]

Alright, so anybody who's interested in building that cabin thing I talked about, come over to Caritas and we'll start planning it.

I'm not picking up your tab, though, so bring your own fake impossible money.

[ooc. even if your character hadn't expressed interest before, feel free to show up now anyway & tag yourself in! questions re: this whole debacle can go outside the caritas thread. the filter is samson-speak for "evil characters," by the way, fff]

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Brock is currently sitting outside the castle, smoking a cigarette. Every so often, he reaches into his pocket and sort of launches a plastic egg away from himself.

So goddamn annoying.

He eventually puts his cigarette out on the castle wall, because that is a perfectly acceptable place to do such a thing. After throwing a few more eggs away from himself, he eventually comes up with his cigarette pack.

Then the clock strikes midnight, and instead of launching what he was positive was a purple plastic egg, he in fact throws his lighter somewhere into the hedges.]

Oh, what the fff ...

[And he just sort of ... gets up to go poke through the foliage. In the dark. At five after midnight. This is so manly and cool you don't even know.]

icarustattoo.livejournal.com

[Brock is currently a little ways into the woods, looking around at trees and generally appearing as though he is wandering about like an idiot.

He's not, though.

He's actually looking for the right place to do something, and after about an hour of pacing around and getting nowhere, he pops open his journal and dictates into it.]

Alright, so. I'm thinking I want to build a house or a cabin or whatever out here. Just like, a place to chill nearby that isn't the castle or a bar or whatever.

No offense to the people who own the bars.

I can probably swing the building thing alright, though help with that would be pretty cool, but cutting down big damn trees isn't really something I got a lot of experience in.

Anyone want in on this?

( Sylvanas. )

[ooc. open in person or over the journal! i am at work at the moment so tags will be slow for a few hours ♥]

About the Archive

"Paradisa Lost" is the archive of what the journals contained between December 1st, 2006 and January 10th, 2012. On that final day, Paradisa issued new journals, so that the residents could fill them up again. While there are still residents around who have old journals, we have chosen to preserve the old journals here for muns' reference and history.

"Lost" in the title refers to both the old journals that the residents once kept, and also to our move to Dreamwidth from the original Livejournal community, where Paradisa started. It is a fresh start for muns, as well as for the characters.

calendar ✖ character tags ✖ back to OOC ✖ back to PARADISA

PARADISA LOST

the archives, 2006-2012

Entries tagged with brock samson

036. Hots On for Nowhere

This will end well

(no subject)

035. Moby Dick

034. For Your Life

033. Royal Orleans

032. Black Mountain Side

031. South Bound Suarez

030. Hot Dog

029. Black Dog

HOSTAGE RESCUE

028. Poor Tom

027. Out on the Tiles

026. Hey Hey What Can I Do

025. How Many More Times

024. Ozone Baby

no, seriously, how was babby formed?!?

023. Immigrant Song

022. In The Evening

021. Travelling Riverside Blues

About the Archive