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salutatories2018-05-14 08:04 pmwhen in rome...
[Vendana L'nar. As far as Julian understood it, it was a day that Bajorans traditionally used as a "preparation for death." Which hardly sounded like celebration, except the way they did it was with a more "act like this is your last day to live" approach. A day to share all feelings and do all the things one most wants (at least, whatever is possible) before they die, because one never knows when the Prophets will deem it their time. And, of course, there are plenty of symbolic things that go with it. Gifts, mostly. Not big elaborate or expensive things, but small things, where the meaning behind the gift is far more important than the function. Ribbons, bells, simple chain bracelets, small charms added to earrings for the day... It seemed almost everyone had a little added something given to them by someone else that told a silent story of their connection to others, how they fit in their life, their importance.
Julian may have asked Kira a lot of questions. And considering what it was about, Kira had been more than happy to answer and share. Now he has plans. He's lucky to get most of the day off (barring any emergencies where he might be called away, but that is the life of a doctor). His shift in the Infirmary is a short one, and he heads to the security office across the (much-decorated and slightly bustling) Promenade only to find Odo already stepping out. Not surprising, with this many people he probably wants to keep an eye on things himself. What was a small smile on Julian's lips breaks instantly into a grin upon seeing him, and he does well by not actually bouncing over to him, but there is some excitement in his step.]
Vendana L'nar shala, Odo.
[Hopefully, the Constable is already familiar with the traditional greeting. Even if the holiday was only celebrated once every six years, Julian knows Odo is more familiar with Bajoran customs in general than he is, having lived with them longer.
He's still in his Starfleet uniform at the moment, but he's hoping to take Odo along with them to his quarters so he can change into the outfit he'd actually prepared for this. And in so doing, maybe convince Odo to shift his attire into something more casual as well. Although, all told, Julian never really does actually tire of the beige look on him. It's just... very Odo.]
Julian may have asked Kira a lot of questions. And considering what it was about, Kira had been more than happy to answer and share. Now he has plans. He's lucky to get most of the day off (barring any emergencies where he might be called away, but that is the life of a doctor). His shift in the Infirmary is a short one, and he heads to the security office across the (much-decorated and slightly bustling) Promenade only to find Odo already stepping out. Not surprising, with this many people he probably wants to keep an eye on things himself. What was a small smile on Julian's lips breaks instantly into a grin upon seeing him, and he does well by not actually bouncing over to him, but there is some excitement in his step.]
Vendana L'nar shala, Odo.
[Hopefully, the Constable is already familiar with the traditional greeting. Even if the holiday was only celebrated once every six years, Julian knows Odo is more familiar with Bajoran customs in general than he is, having lived with them longer.
He's still in his Starfleet uniform at the moment, but he's hoping to take Odo along with them to his quarters so he can change into the outfit he'd actually prepared for this. And in so doing, maybe convince Odo to shift his attire into something more casual as well. Although, all told, Julian never really does actually tire of the beige look on him. It's just... very Odo.]
elaborately2015-06-20 05:17 pmmeme - cr visualosities
SO HERE'S THE DEAL give me some cr (past/present/potential maybe?) and I will try to do a mini visualosities for them down in the comments! Idea yoinked from Andie.
adaughtertoo2015-06-18 05:10 pmopen rp, v2
| → put a prompt below and tell me who you want → feel free to use this if you need some help → or hey check out my rp wishlist post? |
elaborately2014-11-11 07:01 ammeme overflow post
Probably mostly TFLN threads.
elaborately2014-09-27 10:16 pmEntry tags:
the most wonderful time of the year!
  ( Options ) |
birdnerved2014-08-08 04:39 pmEntry tags:
pet store meme (open to all!)
Welcome to the Pet Store! Whether you're looking to buy a pet, buy something for a pet, or you're just in the mood to hold a baby bunny for a while, you've come to the right place! |
( Options and things! )
Entry tags:
[modern au] - starter for backcrawl
CW: violence mention, probably some blood and bruises, things you sustain from getting hit by someone larger than you.
[To be fair, the fight hadn't entirely been Wolfram's fault. The guy had been saying some pretty awful things about his mother, which wasn't unusual as a lot of people do, but Wolfram's tired of hearing it. She's the only family he has left at the moment, with his brothers currently in different countries entirely, and no, she's not perfect, and yes, he blames her for certain things. But that hardly means he's willing to listen to a random stranger insult her, someone who thinks they have a right to do that simply because she's rich and well-known.
So he'd hit him. Right there in the park. Where the guy was surrounded by a group of friends. And things had gone down hill from there. And Wolfram hadn't won, not by a long shot, despite the fact he had a lot of anger fueling him, the other guy had been bigger than him (as most guys were, really) and stronger than him. And besides that, he'd had some help from his friends.
Surprisingly, they hadn't gone much for the face. It could have been worse, really. A lot worse. As it is, he'd come out of it with a split lip and a bloody nose, but beyond that it seems to be mostly bruises in other places. That and he's covered in dirt from being pushed to the ground. Which is where he still sits, seething, as the offensive stranger and his friends finally leave, laughing just as much as they had before Wolfram had started the fight. It's all he can do to keep himself from going after them again. But if he receives any more damage it will be even more humiliating than it already is, so he holds himself back, and lets them go.]
[To be fair, the fight hadn't entirely been Wolfram's fault. The guy had been saying some pretty awful things about his mother, which wasn't unusual as a lot of people do, but Wolfram's tired of hearing it. She's the only family he has left at the moment, with his brothers currently in different countries entirely, and no, she's not perfect, and yes, he blames her for certain things. But that hardly means he's willing to listen to a random stranger insult her, someone who thinks they have a right to do that simply because she's rich and well-known.
So he'd hit him. Right there in the park. Where the guy was surrounded by a group of friends. And things had gone down hill from there. And Wolfram hadn't won, not by a long shot, despite the fact he had a lot of anger fueling him, the other guy had been bigger than him (as most guys were, really) and stronger than him. And besides that, he'd had some help from his friends.
Surprisingly, they hadn't gone much for the face. It could have been worse, really. A lot worse. As it is, he'd come out of it with a split lip and a bloody nose, but beyond that it seems to be mostly bruises in other places. That and he's covered in dirt from being pushed to the ground. Which is where he still sits, seething, as the offensive stranger and his friends finally leave, laughing just as much as they had before Wolfram had started the fight. It's all he can do to keep himself from going after them again. But if he receives any more damage it will be even more humiliating than it already is, so he holds himself back, and lets them go.]
alovingheart2014-07-17 01:13 amEntry tags:
open post
t h e d e a l :
| ➤ pick a muse from my muselist (or don't if you want to be surprised) ➤ do the rng thing or choose a scenario from the options below ➤ or ask for a prompt (pics/quotes/song lyrics) or you can give me one/some! ➤ supposedly fun ensues. I will attempt to back-tag until the end of the world. |
p.s. I can't always guarantee I'll be up for the smut options, probably ask first. limited to characters 16+.
if you feel more comfortable playing smut things in a more private place, feel free to pm me for a link to my private smutbox!
( options stolen from random scenario memes and such )
reactivates2012-11-24 07:18 amARTIFACT: Hugh Everett the Third's Vacuum Tube (no, seriously)
With the ever-expanding inventory that the warehouse has, not to mention the suddenly expanding staff, having just two computers in the office was not going to cut it anymore. And so it was that Claudia did begin her begging, and pleading, and complaining, and other such tactics to try and convince her ever-so-cheap boss that at least one new computer was absolutely necessary otherwise the whole world may fall in upon itself and the only remaining survivor would likely be Artie's eyebrows because goodness knows those things have got to be indestructible. (Good at the overdramatic, but not so great at the "flattery gets you what you want" angle.)
After many days of the begging, and pleading, and complaining, and other such tactics, finally an agreement was made. According to Artie, a brand new computer wasn't in the budget, however if Claudia could find an old computer for relatively cheap to buy somewhere, she was allowed to attempt to "spruce it up" ("You mean upgrade? It's called upgrading, Artie.") so long as she could also do so for "cheap".
Finding an old computer for pretty cheap was easy enough, but Claudia ran into a bit of a snag when it came to the parts. Not in that she couldn't do the job, she'd "spruced up" and fixed plenty of old gadgets before... It was finding the things she needed to do the job. More specifically, one thing. A vacuum tube. (Seriously, a vacuum tube. Not using the term "old computer" loosely here, not one bit.)
Now, one would think, after all the "incidents" she's been through since her first days at the warehouse (not to mention all the horror stories Artie's told or partially-told), she'd know not to go messing around with artifact technology to "spruce up" her new (OLD) computer. Buuuut... "Desperate times call for desperate measures", and all that. Besides, what harm could a vacuum tube bring, really? Artifact or not... IT'S A VACUUM TUBE.
Eventually, and we'll not discuss how long it took after the initial begging and pleading, the job was done. The "computer" (and Claudia will only ever refer to it with quotation marks because despite her best work, the thing is still gonna run like it was built out of a vacuum tube and really slow dust bunnies) was finished. And after all that, looking at the disgrace of a machine, Claudia does not have the heart to even turn it on.
She stares at it, and sits. Stands. And sits. And stands. And, finally, from her spot, slumped over on a desk in the office of the warehouse, she calls for emotional support...
"ARTIE!!"
After many days of the begging, and pleading, and complaining, and other such tactics, finally an agreement was made. According to Artie, a brand new computer wasn't in the budget, however if Claudia could find an old computer for relatively cheap to buy somewhere, she was allowed to attempt to "spruce it up" ("You mean upgrade? It's called upgrading, Artie.") so long as she could also do so for "cheap".
Finding an old computer for pretty cheap was easy enough, but Claudia ran into a bit of a snag when it came to the parts. Not in that she couldn't do the job, she'd "spruced up" and fixed plenty of old gadgets before... It was finding the things she needed to do the job. More specifically, one thing. A vacuum tube. (Seriously, a vacuum tube. Not using the term "old computer" loosely here, not one bit.)
Now, one would think, after all the "incidents" she's been through since her first days at the warehouse (not to mention all the horror stories Artie's told or partially-told), she'd know not to go messing around with artifact technology to "spruce up" her new (OLD) computer. Buuuut... "Desperate times call for desperate measures", and all that. Besides, what harm could a vacuum tube bring, really? Artifact or not... IT'S A VACUUM TUBE.
Eventually, and we'll not discuss how long it took after the initial begging and pleading, the job was done. The "computer" (and Claudia will only ever refer to it with quotation marks because despite her best work, the thing is still gonna run like it was built out of a vacuum tube and really slow dust bunnies) was finished. And after all that, looking at the disgrace of a machine, Claudia does not have the heart to even turn it on.
She stares at it, and sits. Stands. And sits. And stands. And, finally, from her spot, slumped over on a desk in the office of the warehouse, she calls for emotional support...
"ARTIE!!"
reactivates2012-08-20 07:02 pmEntry tags:
Who let the dogs out? ...IT WASN'T ME. I SWEAR.
It's true that Trailer is more Artie's dog than anyone else's, but they all enjoy his company. Pete likes to toss a football around with him. Myka even cuddles with him on occasion. And Claudia enjoys taking him for walks because it's an excuse to be by herself without being accused of being "mopey" (she's not mopey, Pete, she likes to listen to her own thoughts sometimes, okay, not everyone can handle you talking about your past girlfriends for three hours straight, oh my god).
This is one of those walking with Trailer times, and it's usually pretty relaxing because Trailer is a good dog, quite relaxed and steady-paced, never drags her around... Except the fact is, they have never encountered a squirrel before. And it's just the right time of year, just the right weather, that the chittery little creatures are starting to come out.
Claudia is actually reading as she walks him, loosely gripping the leash in her hand because, hey, Trailer's a good dog, remember? So it comes as quite a shock when the "good dog" takes off running at speeds she has not previously ever seen him reach, pulling the leash straight out of her hand and chasing a small, bushy-tailed menace across the street and past a corner and...
And Claudia stands there like a dumbass in utter shock, mouth hanging open, because... "What. The frakk... TRAILER?!" She pretty much drops her book and takes off running after him, except when she turns that corner, she runs smack into someone else, and falls ever-so-gracefully onto her ass on the sidewalk. What did she do to deserve this karma? Really?
"Uuughh, crap. Crappity crap. I. Am so sorry," she quickly apologizes to the other person.
This is one of those walking with Trailer times, and it's usually pretty relaxing because Trailer is a good dog, quite relaxed and steady-paced, never drags her around... Except the fact is, they have never encountered a squirrel before. And it's just the right time of year, just the right weather, that the chittery little creatures are starting to come out.
Claudia is actually reading as she walks him, loosely gripping the leash in her hand because, hey, Trailer's a good dog, remember? So it comes as quite a shock when the "good dog" takes off running at speeds she has not previously ever seen him reach, pulling the leash straight out of her hand and chasing a small, bushy-tailed menace across the street and past a corner and...
And Claudia stands there like a dumbass in utter shock, mouth hanging open, because... "What. The frakk... TRAILER?!" She pretty much drops her book and takes off running after him, except when she turns that corner, she runs smack into someone else, and falls ever-so-gracefully onto her ass on the sidewalk. What did she do to deserve this karma? Really?
"Uuughh, crap. Crappity crap. I. Am so sorry," she quickly apologizes to the other person.
customizer2012-07-04 02:24 pmEntry tags:
Welcome to Mrs. Frederick's Bed and Breakfast.
"And before you ask: no. I am not Mrs. Frederick."
Nestled somewhere off the main road, between towns in South Dakota, sits an old Victorian-style bed and breakfast simply called Mrs. Frederick's. It's not exactly a romantic honeymoon getaway type, though the scenery in the large, treeless area is fairly breathtaking at night, lit up by a blanket of stars up above. It's so far from the main road you'd have to be looking for it to find it. And there are no advertisements around for it. It gets new customers by word-of-mouth alone. Because Mrs. Frederick's is a perfect little rest-stop for wandering demon hunters, and has been for decades, with its home-cooked style meals and endless quantities of alcohol, and its small but incredibly cozy rooms.
It's also been Claudia Donovan's home for exactly one decade. She's practically the inn's mascot. At eleven she was the little girl that begged to hold your weapons and hear all your demon stories. She was the little girl who's apparent fearlessness caused many a smile and a laugh. She'd reminded older demon hunters of the kids they'd lost, or the kids they'd left behind.
And now, at twenty-one, she's the chick that admires your car, gives you a beer, tells you that your scars are cool... and cleans, upgrades, and customizes all your weapons for a price. She's the chick with her own weapons workshop in the basement, one that no one dares enter without permission for fear of being blown up. She's the chick you know not to ask for warranties on anything you get customized by her, because experimenting is her hobby, and you, mister, are the beloved and sometimes unfortunate guinea pig.
Nestled somewhere off the main road, between towns in South Dakota, sits an old Victorian-style bed and breakfast simply called Mrs. Frederick's. It's not exactly a romantic honeymoon getaway type, though the scenery in the large, treeless area is fairly breathtaking at night, lit up by a blanket of stars up above. It's so far from the main road you'd have to be looking for it to find it. And there are no advertisements around for it. It gets new customers by word-of-mouth alone. Because Mrs. Frederick's is a perfect little rest-stop for wandering demon hunters, and has been for decades, with its home-cooked style meals and endless quantities of alcohol, and its small but incredibly cozy rooms.
It's also been Claudia Donovan's home for exactly one decade. She's practically the inn's mascot. At eleven she was the little girl that begged to hold your weapons and hear all your demon stories. She was the little girl who's apparent fearlessness caused many a smile and a laugh. She'd reminded older demon hunters of the kids they'd lost, or the kids they'd left behind.
And now, at twenty-one, she's the chick that admires your car, gives you a beer, tells you that your scars are cool... and cleans, upgrades, and customizes all your weapons for a price. She's the chick with her own weapons workshop in the basement, one that no one dares enter without permission for fear of being blown up. She's the chick you know not to ask for warranties on anything you get customized by her, because experimenting is her hobby, and you, mister, are the beloved and sometimes unfortunate guinea pig.