(no subject)

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[well now, who left a bunch of cards laying around.]

[ooc; there are fourteen of them. replies may be slow. oh god fourteen why D|]

Comments

[crescentblade.livejournal.com]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[this one gets himself to human form before he gets badtouched.]

As full as any.

[crescentblade.livejournal.com]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[so casually gathers his fellow cards into a nice little pile. to avoid anyone else touching them, or something.]

Likewise. Miss us, did you?

[crescentblade.livejournal.com]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[raises an eyebrow.]

What kind of things? Are you misbehaving?

[crescentblade.livejournal.com]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[and here's another one.]

Just the way you said it. What has been happening?

[crescentblade.livejournal.com]

[knifeabitch.livejournal.com]

[Jamie] Oh~ What's this? What's this?

[Walking over to the cards. Her own sisters are in her pockets, the lazy girls.]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[it's an unamused looking Five, is what.]

[he's raising an eyebrow and that means don't touch.]

[knifeabitch.livejournal.com]

[Jamie] [Just going to raise an eyebrow right back at you. And... Pokes the cards.]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[narrows eyes and sweeps the cards up into a pile away from her.]

[...and produces a notebook and pen from a pocket somewhere, scribbles something, and slides the paper over.]

Don't touch.

[knifeabitch.livejournal.com]

[Gwen] Oh oh! What'cha have that notebook for? Can't you speak?

[just gonna poke his cheek now. Jamie is smiling and stepping back to lean against the wall.]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

I can. But not to the likes of you.

[pauses, then writes again.]

Do refrain from touching my face.

[knifeabitch.livejournal.com]

[Gwen] [Looks down at the piece of paper]

Well this isn't any fun. Talk! Do something entertaining!

...And I'll touch you if I want. [POKE POKE POKE]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[see the look on his face? that is the look of someone who likes his personal space.]

[...he's glaring at his notebook while he scribbles.]

Now I remember why we never liked you lot.

[kills-you-dead.livejournal.com]

[Oh hi. Adam staring at you now. He wont touch them, though. Just waiting for one to talk to him.]

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[have a King.]

So this is where everyone's been going?

[kills-you-dead.livejournal.com]

[Oh he's honored]

Seems so.

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

[he'd better be.]

Pray tell, what exactly is this place? We've been told a thousand and one Keyfolk are around.

[kills-you-dead.livejournal.com]

...Not a thousand and one. A large amount though.

You are in the dressing room. A place where there are a lot of copies of everyone and there's no way out.

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

Mm, thereabouts. It was just a saying.

Art not dressing rooms usually smaller and used for changes of costume?

[kills-you-dead.livejournal.com]

Oh... Alright then.

Well it's just what they call this place. It's really just a cross roads of dimensions. People are pulled out of their own worlds inot here.

[upthesleeves.livejournal.com]

Perhaps a more suitable name would be in order, for I do doubt I am the first to wonder why it's called a 'dressing room'.