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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/23 01:50 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey sucks in some sweet smoke. he exhales. he stands beside the cherrywood, rolling his toes in his italian shoes]

the styrofoam cup was invented in Germany in the 19th century.

[doomey leans in, looks over the capital]

cups we use these days be polystyrene. so yeah, this capital is staged in the past.
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/23 02:00 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol uncrosses her arms, leans in, her breasts bounce just slightly]

And this POV bullshit. "Clancy looked over the chief's shoulder..."
S'too sudden. A total stumble. And yeah, overall, this capital is too long. We try to help, give advice. So, if Ethan is watching this broadcast, I'd like to tell him the character is ripe, good, but the capital is long, and a little cliche. I do believe you could get this published in a lot of magazines. But we here at TQR demand some real tight crafting. So...yeah.
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/23 02:12 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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yep.

[doomey sucks in some sweet smoke, nearly killing the cigarette, and he stuffs the butt into the ash-filled ashtray at his elbow]

ended up kind of silly. for us, we need...

[doomey stands straight, taps his chin and twists his neck]

one. we must have some serious crafting skill, right?

two. we want a crazy story. and if it's not crazy, um, we'll take insane. we also like western.

three. motherfucking three. we demand style.

[doomey grabs up the current capital. he balls it up and shreads it and balls it up again and tears it up and throws it to the tiles, and then he kicks the shreads around the tiles till they're seperate and silent and dead, like a dying fire, stamped out, made cold]

Ethan Nahte's Paint the Park Red has been Portholed.

[he stamps his heels a few more times for good measure]
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/26 01:55 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey watches as capital rains from the rafters. he shakes his head]

this is helpful.
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/26 02:02 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol goes to her kness and she scrambles after capital pages, grabbing one up, then another, and then another. She grabs them all up, and then she leans up against wardrobe, her ass on the floorboards]

Dang, hunter. Okay, that was messed up. What we need to do is less work, more gain, savvy?

[Carol leafs the capital in her fingers]

We've got Sheehan's Aces and 8s. We'll see where this lands, eh?
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/27 00:23 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey has been examining the current capital, spread out on the the desktop of the cherrywood, a pall mall clasped betwixt his lips, sucking sweet smoke in, exhaling, twisting his lips]

yeah, folks, not sure anyone is following this, but Sheehan's Aces and 8s does not quite meet our standards. the monkey did not go crazy for it. wasn't horrible, wasn't god fucking awful, right, cousins? but we need detail. not detail. shit. we need vision. we examine, we see, right? we examine, we disappear, go into the prose. s'what escapism is all about, marsha

[doomey slams his fists down on the cherrywood's desktop]

god i hate art.
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/27 03:28 By: deplancher Status: Admin  
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[DePlancher's lips appear parched, her face faintly blue. Her clothes...what's left of them...look like strips of colourful rags of varying lengths and condition, hanging from a worn leather belt with a handful of twisted fringes swinging limp from her left hip. DeP's been sleeping under her desk maybe. Or upside down in that dirty hammock. She's been working overtime at a second or third job. Oh well. Her desk is dusty. But there's cap in her head. She is present. She is not yet dead, no matter what's been said.]

Well, someone asked today if I've a glass eye. The world is a nosy neighbour. Walk on.

I read Salt Man and this cap held promise, you know. Many hold promises. They lure you in, like a soft-skinned homeless, then punch you with either depravity or dullard's predictability. Worse: uninteresting sentimentality.

Ach! I'm not saying for sure what happened with this one. It just doesn't cross the Monkey's gate. It cannot.

VC Donna Recktenwalt's Salt Man has been sent back down to the mines. Portholed. Now, can I have some lemon for me sad throat, svp?

DeP
A Bluelight Dancer/Not a Pocketbook Romancer
of The Floor
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/11/29 00:10 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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ah, DeP.

[doomey leans forward, the pilot's chair moaning in it's special way as he does so, and he plants his elbows on the cherrywood's desktop, disrupting the flow of cap, suiciding a few pages over the edge, screams as they flit to the tiles]

you're ill? that sucks massive twinkies. here-

[doomey pulls a steaming kettle from under the cherrywood (weirdness), and then he pulls a tall coffee mug from inside his suitcoat (more weirdness) and he fills the mug and sets it on the desktop. he pulls some cloves from his coat pocket and shoves them into a nest of fresh lemon twists that happen to be sitting upstage left on the desktop]

i'll make you a cocktail, it'll heal your wounds. and, might i add, s'nice to see you up and about. this place goes negative when you're not around, which is sad because i am really a happy guy most days. but i'm not here alot of the time, and jesus can be such as ass, which reminds me...

[he sniffs the fumes]

still smells like piss in here. that fucking jesus better-

[doomey shakes his head]

oh right. we're making you a cocktail.

[he grabs up the coffee mug and tosses the contents over his shoulder, washing the wardrobe. he pours hot water from the kettle into the coffee mug, fills it about a third. he grabs up and tips his pack of pall malls, and he pours about 2 tablespoons of brown sugar into his palm. he dumps the sugar into the coffee mug, and then he looks around the desktop. he grabs up a Batman pez dispenser and he shoves its batman head into the hot water and he stirs it for a few]

the Floor isn't the same without you, girl. the motley crew i've gathered around me does not shower. we need you here to keep us in line, right? otherwise, the Floor might decay, savvy?

[doomey dumps the lemon twist/clove clump into the mug and he stirs it with the batman head]

Jesus still needs to clean up his mess. Carol is a wonderful human being but she needs to wash. I'm a fucking mess.

[doomey reaches behind him, shoves his hand down into his suit collar, searches, and he pulls out a lemon. he holds the lemon over the tall coffee mug, and he squeezes the fruit. squeezes, and juice drips into the mug]

this whole enterprise is on edge, dark and stormy, iffy.

[doomey tosses the drained lemon over his shoulder (a pile is growing). he grabs up the bottle of amber that'd been resting on the edge of the cherrywood. he pours enough amber into the coffee mug to fill it. he sets the bottle downstage right. he rises, grabs up the mug, walks over to DePlancher's desk, and he sets it down before her, and he backs off]

for you, girl. a hot toddy. i think it might help.
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Re:wk 2.1
Date: 2017/12/05 02:03 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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checking out james alston's bonsai. s'tremely strange. hmm. right now i really want to go back online and watch that new barbara concert. good christ, that woman can sing.

[doomey thumb-nails a swan vesta and lights up a pall mall. he sucks in some sweet smoke]

maybe i can get the Lovesores to open for Barbera. Hm.
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