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The To Kill a Mockingbird RPG
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Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in To Kill a Mockingbird RPG's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, August 3rd, 2005
10:53 pm
As the mockingbird hopped over, curious, it noticed a cheerful humming. The sweet smelling smoke was coming from an unseasonable fire. The unseasonable fire was under an enormous pot, which Calpurnia was tossing various herbs and plants into. The pot's contents swirled mysteriously into a thick, opaque broth.

"Oh, hello, little mockingbird." Calpurnia said, startling the nervous creature. It darted back a few hops, then moved forward again. "What have you been seeing this morning?"

The mockingbird didn't understand a word of it, but was pleased to have a new audience. It tiled its head one way, then the other, and twittered for several minutes. Calpurnia appeared to listen attentively, nodding slightly at intervals. At last, she tapped the spoon against the side of the pot decisively. "Strange things coming," she murmered. "Better make sure Mr. Atticus is well fed for them."

This said, she added another dash of mysterious powdered ingredients and resumed stirring the broth. The mockingbird, no longer being heeded, stole a few pieces of bread and took to the air again.
Monday, July 25th, 2005
10:56 am
Its mission accomplished, the mockinbird alit from Atticus' windowsill. Though the alarm and occurrences within were far beyond its limited avian brain, there was a gleam of satisfaction in the bird's yellow eyes. It had shared its song! And of course, it had been appreciated. Very pleased with itself, and with a full belly, the mockingbird wheeled through the air. It decided to survey its territory, and swept over the sweltering streets of Maycomb.

As it flew, the mockingbird tilted its head, listening for the music of other birds. It was adept at stealing such songs, and incoporating them into its own patchwork compositions. Hearing an odd, fluting noise, the mockingbird turned in air, searching for the source. It could not quite pinpoint it, and swooped lower. As it did, the mockingbird began to smell sweet, cloying smoke. It was an odd smell for such a sweltering day, but it seemed to have the same source as the piping notes. Perplexed, and somewhat disoriented, the mockingbird swept down onto the ground and began to hop towards the strange sounds.
Saturday, July 23rd, 2005
12:34 am
Enter....THE BATMAN.
Zooming down an Alabama country in his sleek and stylish Batmobile, Batman has a rather heated discussion with Wonder Woman via Batham radio.

"Tell me again......Why the league is sending me to Backcountry, Alabama?!"

"We need you to check out Atticus Finch, he's....he's......bootlegging....kittens.......arms leading..........public works" Wonder Woman trials as her half assed lie crashes to the ground.

"I've heard of Finch, he's a good man, a lawyer, but still a good man, the worst thing he's done is shoot a rabid dog, trust me I know my stuff I'M BATMAN! Look I know you're just planning a blow out at the Hall of Justice and you don't want me there "cramping the flash's style" . I'll show you, Batman knows how to have a good time, even when he's working....and talking in third person.......I'M BATMAN!"

"Bruce no it's just uh..."

"GOOD BYE DIANA, I'll watch your Finch....but first it's breakfast time, and I got a hankerin' from some pancakes and hash browns, LATER." Batman slams the speaker down onto the dash. He continues to cruise until he sees a Denny's.

"Sweetness! I'll get me a grand slam to satisfy my batappitite."

Batman pulls into the Denny's parking lot, many customers gawk at the strange car pulling in, and their jaws hang ever lower as they watch the Caped Crusader steps out. This is the begging of a very bizarre tale.
Sunday, July 24th, 2005
12:13 am
Murderous Morning in Maycomb.
At the sound of Mockingbird's loathesome song, Atticus Finch wearily, warily rose from his bed and donned his trademark glasses. Yes, this was another day he would have to live through; the cautious lived, the underprepared died. He grabbed a piece of paper which had been thoroughly scrawled on from his nightstand and carefully, precisely folded it to fit in the pocket of his lawyer uniform laying across the room. He would be wearing it soon, right after...

Atticus whirled around, looked under his bed, out the window, and in his wardrobe. He found nothing. Suspicious, he thought. With a slight frown he reached around his nightstand for a pile of identical pebbles. He grabbed a few and lightly tossed one at the ground in front of his suit.

The ground in front of it burst into smoke, which rose and set off a fire detector, which got louder and louder with each ring. Desperately, Atticus threw pebbles at it from the safety of his bed, but with limited results.

The alarm's power was growing. Soon, Atticus's ears began to throb, his eyes rolled back into his skull, he lost control for a second. The weakness passed, he made one more futile attempt at stopping the doom-device. Another pebble hit the alarm from afar. To no avail. The alarm sounded on and on, mocking him.

Having done everything in his power, Atticus stuffed his pillow over his ears and let out the angriest sounding sentence(s), ever:


((OOC: Hey duders. All three of you who will read this. XD I'ma try to get this party started again! It will be really super great if we try! :D ))
Wednesday, January 26th, 2005
10:27 pm
Mockingbird lives.
"Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

The mockingbird blinked its large, yellow eyes at the prospect of another Maycomb day. The heat was already rising in waves from the streets and rooftops. Few other creatures were moving. The heat had sapped their, and they slept fitfully in the thick, wet air.

The mockingbird was less concerned with this. It took advantage of the morning lull to gather up various tasty vermin from the ground and woodpiles. Centipedes, millipedes, and worms did not escape its questing beak. Nor did the less mobile berries of the area. Well satiated, the mockingbird found a small, flat place. It seemed like a good addition to its territory. The mockingbird tilted its head to each side, making sure that the spot was perfect. Yes. It was.

The mockingbird burst triumphantly into song. Just past its perch, swearing resulted. An object flew through the window, at the sill the Mockingbird had occupied. With a disdainful chirp, the mockingbird alighted once more. It soon found another windowsill.

So, the town of Maycomb was slowly dragged, sullen and fighting, from its nightly rest.
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