loisfuckinglane: (| is there a problem officer?)
[Lois had never been to the Underground herself yet, so she made sure to leave with plenty of time to spare for navigating.  She seems to have no qualms whatsoever about pushing her way through in the direction of the Casino unaccompanied, even somewhat dressed up for the evening as she is, and it's obvious that she's not particularly worried about being accosted.  Really, she figures, she's dealt with worse.

It strikes her, however, when she reaches the entrance of the place that she has no idea what the guy she's meeting up with looks like, which is annoying enough.  Shoving her way up to the front corner, she doesn't wait for an invitation to ask her question, simply snapping to get someone's attention.]

Hey, I'm looking for a guy named Tony Stark.  Anyone know where I might find him?
loisfuckinglane: (| my source?  you mean wikipedia?)
Alright.  I've tried backtracking on the network in order to put info together, but between updates from residents every five seconds to remind us that, hey, guess what, there's still snow in the wintertime (thanks for the newsflash, guys), and these psycho curses every other day, it's pretty difficult to pluck out the bullet points.  Honestly, people, with this amount of comm chatter, I don't know how anybody would get help in a real emergency.

Anyways, maybe some of you around here can be more effective Google searches than holding down my scroll button for eternity.  

Besides the obvious trapped in Dimension X scenario, what have people actually figured out about this place in all the time they've been stuck here?  Who's racking up the most frequent flier miles in terms of how long they've been here?  What do we know about these so-called deities causing the shots?  

I mean, come on, not everybody around here can actually be content to sit and ride out wave after wave of voodoo magic, while pretending they're living normal happy lives in Toon Town in between.
loisfuckinglane: (| so this time it's evil cyborg you?)
So it seems a lot of people here end up coming from the same world, or running into people they know, but so far I've seen nothing but strangers, and some of you have never even heard of Metropolis, Kansas.

Is there anyone out there who knows who the Luthors are, at least?

Back home, I was investigating my cousin's murder, and looking for information on Lionel Luthor is how I ended up in here in the first place.  I don't really like the idea of going home some day empty handed.

And on a totally different note, I'm going stir-crazy.  Anyone out there up for going out to try to find some entertainment?  
loisfuckinglane: (| jimmy fell down a well?!)
Ok, this place has officially pushed itself from Twilight Zone territory into the Outer Limits.   I've been here two days, and yesterday, I kept getting inexplicably caught running in place on corners if I didn't give them a wide enough berth.   Strangers kept making entirely random comments out loud about the status of things in the city or their personal lives when I got within five feet of them or made eye contact.  Rats kept attacking me, and I swear to God, some of them were wearing sunglasses.  I'm not sure what's more bizarre: that or the fact that I actually defied the laws of physics and punched them to death.  Punched.  The tiny rats.

Maybe it was the part where they exploded in a shower of coins afterwards.  And the musical fanfare.  I'm getting a headache from that same damn trumpet noise every five seconds.

[Advil.  She needs some Advil.]  All I know is that somebody out there has to have a better explanation for what I'm doing here and how I'm getting home than that Damon guy did: because 'no clue and we're not'?  Sorry Regis, but that's not my final answer.
loisfuckinglane: (| i saved basil of baker street!)
[nick / name]:  Arden
[personal LJ name]:  [livejournal.com profile] dancinpenguins 
[other characters currently played]: None.
[e-mail]:  kiwi4ever13@hotmail.com
[AIM / messenger]:  thegreatmuldini

Oh, Clark, come on. That's like saying Tommy Lee's just a drummer. Sometimes I worry there is no poetry in you. )
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