entrancelogs | + THIS is the Bad Place!

Who: EVERYONE
Where: The Neighborhood!
When: 4/26 - 4/30
Rating: PG-13, warn if going higher - no swearing by event law!
Summary: Catch-all log for The Good Place event!
The Story:

Welcome to the Good Place! Your character, tragically, has died in their world. They might not remember how (or maybe they do!) but it’s okay either way because conveniently they have earned enough points to go to the Good Place when they die! They’ve earned a house that they have been told is perfectly suited to them (it is probably not, but who are they to question the universe?!) in an absolutely delightful and quaint little Neighborhood with a frozen yogurt shop on every block. It’s almost irritatingly perfect!

Most importantly though, someone will be living with your character. Someone very, very special - their soulmate, hand-picked from the billions on Earth! Sure, it may not be who (or even what) they expected, but this is what they’ve earned from the good life they’ve lived in your world. They deserve this! They really, truly do.

Everyone is welcome to add details to what exactly is in the Neighborhood - everyone has different standards for what constitutes an "objectively good but still mediocre" neighborhood experience, after all!

Need more information, or maybe a soulmate? Head on over to the plot post! Prose or [Action Brackets] are both welcome!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She's really trying not to laugh but it's really kind of adorable. "Maybe they think it would disturb those that don't curse?" She shrugs though, not at all sure. Except it's kind of sweet coming from him. Which she is sure would piss him off more so she keeps that to herself.

"Maybe they've run out of space? Or it's... " She stops, sighing, because she can't think of another reason. She really wishes she could. "It's kind of awful,' she admits, hating saying that about Heaven. "Maybe they think it's what's best for us?"

"I don't give a flying fork what other people think. This supposed to be heaven? I want to forking swear."

He's so very very put out by all of this, it's making his life miserable. But there's a pretty lady (he guesses, for a human) and that's...something. One decent thing so far, well done, afterlife.

"Exactly, forking thank you. It's really awful. I mean, shirt, it shouldn't be making us this uncomfortable. It should be easier. Better? What's actually best for us."

"I mean, maybe that's cursing here," she teases, grinning wider. "You could try and find more inventive ways to cuss? Maybe that would help?"

She isn't sure, and maybe she shouldn't be trying to help him but she's laughing even as she suggests it.

She falls quiet at that though. "Why... Why not let us pick our own. You know? I mean, wouldn't that make sense?" It had been funny a moment before, but not anymore. "Did you... Who was your soulmate? They said we had them but mine, it doesn't seem right."

"It's a shirty way of cursing. And I don't need to do that, the original swear words work just forking great as they are."

He's very aware that he's likely ranting about something he has no power over- something insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Especially given they're all apparently dead. But no, he'll latch onto this because it's at least something he can make sense of with his anger.

"I guess it would. I mean, it seems forking weird that we're made to be forking miserable here," he grimaces. "Yeah no, that's... mine is just bullshirt. It's not right."

"What about British cuss words? What if you said them in another language?" And now she's just encouraging him because it's kinda funny and she's content to enjoy this.

Misty shifts then, not nearly as amused when talking about this. "I don't like modern things. I don't like steel. It practically makes my teeth ache," she sighs. "And.. I mean... My soulmate is a frog statue, and I love frogs but I mean, there's been bad things about them in my life too.' And it's a constant reminder. "How bad is yours?"

He's well aware she's having some fun with this, and it rankles him a little- but he carries on anyway. Because she has a point. Finally, his years of having to deal with the Tweedles is going to come in handy.

" Twot? Wonker? Wonker?" he frowns. "Nope. Doesn't forking work."

That's just rude. He shrugs at her comment.

"Yeah, ain't much a fan of that myself," but then, modern for him is 1986. "...A frog? Like... not even a forking person? What kinda bullshirt is that?" he frowns. "I got a dog. Actually, it might be a wolf, I mean- if this place is forking with us, which I think it is, then a wolf tracks with everything else."

Perking, she clasps her hands before her, watching him as he tries with several words. "Well, it kind of sounds like you're saying them with an accent," she admits, so maybe she is trying to help, at least a little bit. "So it's at least kind of like you're saying them."

Okay it's not. Not at all. So at least for her mocking, she's also trying to help him feel a bit ebtter about it all.

She lights up though at that. "A wolf? Really? A living wolf?" Hers wasn't living so she wasn't sure that his was. "Where is it? Can I see it?"

"Not the kinda accent I'd want, if I'm honest."

Most of the British Fables are fucking assholes. He wonders if it's something to do with coming from that area. Mr. Toad spring to mind, he really is a grade A wonker. He grimaces.

"In my house? I mean, shirt I guess you can see it. You can have it if you want it. I forkin' hate wolves."

Technically he hates one specific wolf, but all other wolves suffer for it.

She smiles then. "I have to say, I kind of like yours," she admits, shrugging because it's just the truth and she's certainty not blushing. Why would she blush?

Though she is positively bouncing now, gathering up her shawl around her and moving closer to him. "Where then? Come on. Let's see the darling. Though you couldn't go around giving away your soul mate. What if you need them?"

She's not sure why but he might for something. Who knows in a place like this.

The comment surprises a chuckle out him. Gren isn't a natural flirt- or even naturally pre-disposed to noticing when people are doing anything like that to him. Generally, he's left the fuck alone in Fabletown and for good reason.

"Don't hear people say that much about a Bronx accent, but I'll take a compliment from a pretty lady."

...That felt familiar, saying that. His brow furrows. Why would that be familiar? He's never said anything like that in his life... has he?

"Pretty sure I don't, but sure. Come on, you can come look at the creepy fucker."

Misty ducks her head, smile growing. "I never got up that far, but it's got a ring to it. And thank you," she says softly, not used to being told that, if only because she keeps herself away from others so much of the time.

And yet him saying that, it leaves her hugging herself tighter, wanting to hear him say it again. Not to hear it, if only because she rarely does, but to hear it from him. In that accent.

That makes her laugh. "It's a wolf, right? Like a normal wolf?" She's not sure why that would be creepy. At least not to her.

He doesn't understand this. The lingering feeling of familiarity aching behind his ribcage. He doesn't like being in the dark over anything. He wants to pick at this feeling, try to understand why it's happening at all.

"I don't like wolves. Even normal ones."

Bigby tends to put people off of wolves for life.

+ THIS is the Bad Place! - MINGLE LOG +

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