amoray: (Default)
♒ ([personal profile] amoray) wrote in [community profile] goshdarnspam2013-06-26 04:10 pm

(no subject)


the picture prompt meme


1. comment with your character.
2. others will leave a picture (or two, or three...)
( 2a. if you like, link a visualosities post in your top level comment to give people material to work with! )
3. reply to them with a setting based on the picture.
4. for an idea of how this works, see bakerstreet, which is where i stole this meme from!
5. THIS IS A SLOW BURNING MEME IF YOU SAY YOU'RE LATE I'LL SLOW BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN
glowsferatu: fangs, sad (My Throat Was Dry With The Sun In My Eye)

[personal profile] glowsferatu 2013-06-27 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ her fist clenches as she feels the blood drip down from her jaw. or, at least, where her jaw should be. she may not have been fast enough to miss the shot clipping her, but it certainly beats losing her entire head.

she can feel the burn in her cheeks as they try to reconstruct themselves, and it only makes her glare more intense as she wordlessly braces her knees, ready to strike at a moment's notice. sometimes just the effect of staring them down while brutally injured without going down is enough to back the enemy down.

though eridan isn't exactly meeting it for the first time, either.
]
bartalk: (Default)

[personal profile] bartalk 2013-06-27 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
retropolis: (he's drunk!! said hollis)

[personal profile] retropolis 2013-06-27 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Whether or not Nelson was awake when Hooded Justice came home was always a double-sided matter, assuming he wasn't with Hooded Justice in the first place; sometimes he was asleep, sometimes he waited up, anxious in bed and clutching his sheets in his fists. More often than not he stayed up, kept restless by the fear that this would be the night that Hooded Justice didn't come back.

Or maybe this night. Or maybe this one. Their relationship -- if it could even be defined as such -- was already (or had been) balanced on precarious, unsteady legs, but now Nelson felt as if all that was keeping them together was circumstance. That Hooded Justice was here, alive, and that Nelson was the only other person that he knew.

He felt that way because he knew it was true.

He always listened for the door, and when he heard it click (subtle though it was) he got out of bed and walked out of his bedroom so he could confirm Hooed Justice's return by sight, too.
]


Welcome back.
glowsferatu: smile (Default)

is that your grandma's coat?

[personal profile] glowsferatu 2013-06-27 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ sure, it's a nice coat, billy, but you could've gone with a much better outfit under it. she's just kind of awkwardly watching as he seems so excited about it. she's not sure if she should stop him, or just watch from an embarrassed distance. ]
retropolis: (why is laurie rude)

[personal profile] retropolis 2013-06-27 05:51 am (UTC)(link)

sufferably: (pic#6260341)

this got embarrassingly long i am so sorry

[personal profile] sufferably 2013-06-27 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
( The transition to life in the City hasn’t been easy, exactly. If asked, Bones would describe it as “as smooth as could be expected.” He would say that begrudgingly, rolling his eyes and thinking of the very many hiccups that only started with people commenting on Spock’s “prosthetics” and all of their “costumes.”

Even after a few weeks, it’s still goddamn strange to walk around in the twenty-first century. So Bones copes like he always copes, by overworking and then drinking when he can get away with it. The latter happens less often than one might think, because Bones has actually found a new hobby. He’s reading up on the century, on all of the prevalent diseases and popular treatments. He downloads articles and articles about HIV and swine flu, chemotherapy and triple bypass surgery. It’s horrifying, in most ways, but also something he can dig into and attack with the most curious parts of his brain. And he’s always been a little morbid, anyway. It’s part of what makes him a good doctor.

It’s also something to do, on nights when he gets home at two am and can’t fathom actually crawling into bed and going to sleep. He ends up on the couch, brand new utterly archaic iPad balanced on his knees as he sips coffee and reads, the backlight illuminating his face so he doesn’t have to turn on the lights and risk Uhura’s wrath or Spock’s questions.

That’s about where he’s at, tonight. There are dark circles under his eyes but he doesn’t want to sleep, so after ducking into his room to pull on an Ole Miss t-shirt—he’d ordered it online, looking for something familiar—and pajama pants he’s back out in the common area.

A confession, here—it’s been a year, but he still has nightmares. Tiring himself out and focusing on problems he can fix is so much easier than drifting off to sleep and seeing the Enterprise crashing and Jim Kirk dying along with it. )
Edited 2013-06-27 05:54 (UTC)
heartlessglitch: (pic#6018667)

[personal profile] heartlessglitch 2013-06-27 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
latest weeepasfljk

DANGER VISUALS
JENNY QUANTUM VISUALS
ropedin: (Just kind of want to go home)

[personal profile] ropedin 2013-06-27 06:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ He often tried to keep it quiet, because even though he didn't respect the whole necessity that Nelson was working, he wasn't going to make it impossible for it to happen. Bite the hand that feeds, and so forth. He still hardly made much more than the softest of clicks, a creak, and the slight chime of JR's collar. ]

It's late.

[ He points it out, knowing that it's probably too late for Nelson right about now to be up, but he was often there, stepping out to greet him. When the door was finally locked again, another soft click, he stepped a bit further in. Some nights, he thought it would be easier, if he left, instead of staying. He had no doubts that he could survive.

But he couldn't figure out why he kept coming back, if not convenience. Stepping closer, not quite breaching the living room, he assessed the dim home, like he did every night. Like he was looking for something, but finally his eyes fell on Nelson.
]

You didn't have to stay up.
glassbox: (pic#4358877)

monica

[personal profile] glassbox 2013-06-27 07:06 am (UTC)(link)


glassbox: (pic#4358891)

[personal profile] glassbox 2013-06-27 07:08 am (UTC)(link)

retropolis: (ℳ | dangerous capes)

[personal profile] retropolis 2013-06-27 07:14 am (UTC)(link)
I know I didn't. I wanted to m--

[ "Make sure," but he just purses his lips and sits down on the couch, folding his hands uneasily in his lap. He looks over at Hooded Justice, waiting for him to come closer but not moving, himself. He's not sure what to really say, since there's no easy way to voice the paranoia that someone's going to leave you and that everything was poised to fall apart with one false step. That maybe they aren't meant to be together at all and what they're doing is only sealing their fate even further, damning their futures.]

I just wanted to. I wasn't tired. It isn't that late anyway.
glassbox: (pic#4358896)

[personal profile] glassbox 2013-06-27 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ she'd been drinking maybe a little too much. once in a while, when her and monica go out together like this and order shots, she'd get carried away, wrapped up in angrysad feelings that would fester as the alcohol burned down her throat until she could hardly control the words that were falling from her mouth. things about husbands and loving and how much it hurt sometimes and what ever happened to honeymoons and white picket fences?

monica always listened to her. sympathized even. she never felt crazy with monica.

but right now, she feels a little sick, swaying away from the bar to the restroom in the back, staggering into a stall and leaning precariously over the toilet. she dry heaves a few times. she misses her husband. she hates her husband. she coughs a little as the floor seems to tilt. she wants to forget, maybe, or be as strong as monica and just let go.

she stares into the toilet water for a long moment, nauseous -- then, abruptly, fumbling with her left hand, pulls the golden band from her ring finger and lets it drop into the bowl before she clumsily gropes for the lever to flush.
]
glassbox: (pic#4358926)

[personal profile] glassbox 2013-06-27 07:25 am (UTC)(link)


Edited (THIS ONE IS BETTER) 2013-06-27 07:44 (UTC)
ropedin: (All they're good for)

[personal profile] ropedin 2013-06-27 07:36 am (UTC)(link)
Mm. [ He responded in acknowledgement, eyes still narrowing suspiciously at the statement. He could guess, of course, what he was going to say, but he didn't bother. He knew Nelson well enough, and he knew them as a pair to know where there was a pitfall, and questioning it and driving it would just pull them into another fight.

He slid out of his cape, something he often did when he got home now, the house larger than a MAC apartment, but not generous enough on space that he could move around with a cape that would get into everything.

Eventually, with eyes still narrowed, he slid onto the couch, watching Nelson. Maybe not warily, but he wasn't looking anywhere else, not even bothering to look at JR, who had decided that everyone was home, so he could go to sleep. He landed onto the opposite side, not acknowledging the space between them for the moment.
]

I suppose it isn't. If you're going to stay up, you can join me out there more often.

[ More often than he already did. HJ didn't see the logic in sitting around, although he suspected this was a "Nelson" thing. Even if he didn't acknowledge there was a problem, it was still hanging over their heads. ]
heartlessglitch: (pic#6034434)

[personal profile] heartlessglitch 2013-06-27 07:45 am (UTC)(link)


heartlessglitch: (Default)

[personal profile] heartlessglitch 2013-06-27 07:48 am (UTC)(link)


heartlessglitch: (Default)

[personal profile] heartlessglitch 2013-06-27 07:52 am (UTC)(link)


retropolis: (he's drunk!! said hollis)

[personal profile] retropolis 2013-06-27 07:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ Friendship isn't easy.

It never is, but it's never been like this, either. Not for Nelson. He's friendly, he'd always been friendly, sociable and charming, but close friends were something he consistently lacked. Close friends who reciprocated his sentiments and shared the way he shared, always bursting onto someone emotionally like a volcano of lonesome distress.

Lil, though. At first he'd thought of her much like Sally, a casual confidante that he could relate to over the little things and the big things all without ever truly speaking their name. Then--

Then.

It's impossible to know if things are better, the way they are. They're closer, certainly, she's closer to him than any woman has ever been (with the possible exception of his mother), fulfilling the role that he'd always known a woman was supposed to for a man (at least in most ways), and it's safer, that way.

But he's vulnerable that way, too, not just beneath the world but beneath her, too. He wonders if she's unhappy now, he wonders how he can make things better, because it's hard to believe things aren't different even if it's just in some small way. And then he thinks about how unusual it is, that he worries about her problems too in tandem with his own. Does she ever resent him, for how things turned out? Or are her problems simply something he can't fix? He doesn't know. He doesn't know how women think and Lil is the closest he'll ever come.

The next time they meet, he brings her flowers, just in case.
]

retropolis: (bitter drunk)

[personal profile] retropolis 2013-06-27 08:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ Nelson turns his gaze toward Hooded Justice, though still doesn't move closer; he remains on his side of the couch, waiting for Hooded Justice come to him (if he will). After a moment of listening to him, Nelson turns away and frowns at the floor, nose wrinkling. ]

I waited up so I could see you. Not for a lecture. I have other things to do, you know. I don't have as much free time as you do to just go waltzing off for whatever I feel like.

[ His expression tightened further in his offense at being admonished, his cheeks going pink. He blinks, still looking askance. ]

I though thought you might be happy I waited.
glassbox: ART BY: <lj user=gabbie>!! (pic#6121795)

[personal profile] glassbox 2013-06-27 08:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ At some point, it had occurred to her -- instinctively, at first, then consciously -- that she loved him. It was a platonic, comfortable sort of fondness that bred loyalty and a fussing concern, occupying her time and her mind to the point that it was almost enough, if a somewhat ill fit for the gaping emotional hole that other kinds of loving had left in her. A precarious anchor, maybe. Or at least something to lean on, to keep her sane, even if only just.

She tried not to let her mind go to unhappy places too often. Their friendship wasn't perfect. But nothing ever was, right? If she let herself dwell on certain things too long, she'd get crazy. Resentful. Angry. Loneliness was safer for her to feel. Her loneliness couldn't hurt him. But the other things -- they could.

The little gestures though, they help. The flowers make her smile. It's warm when she folds them carefully into one arm and wraps the other around him, squeezing as gently as a woman of her size and strength can before letting go.
]

Hon, y'shouldn't have. Ain't even a holiday or nothin'.
sorcerersupreme: (and I feel beautiful ways)

for ned

[personal profile] sorcerersupreme 2013-06-27 10:18 am (UTC)(link)


uzi: arт✖leιnιl yυ (pic#3698407)

[personal profile] uzi 2013-06-27 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)
( One day, they decide not to go to the bar. Maybe it’s the trauma of the past few weeks, or something else entirely, but Monica doesn’t want to be drunk. So they get in her car and they drive for as long as they can until they finally hit the shoreline. Then they start walking in companionable silence. And they keep walking, long after they hit the water, even though it’s cold and cloudy. The chilly water laps up against their legs and they hold hands for warmth—maybe not just for that. The sun is still high in the sky when the clouds burst and they get drenched, still holding hands.

At least we’re alive, one of them says as they run back to the car. Monica should probably remember which one of them spoke, but she doesn’t.

Her apartment is closer, so that’s where they go. It’s simply furnished and utilitarian, elegant only by small incidental touches. They slip out of their water-logged shoes in the entry, peel themselves out of their clothing piece by piece as they make their way to the bedroom. It’s warmest there, is Monica’s unnecessary excuse.

At some point while she’s unbuttoning her blouse, Lil shakes out her hair and fills the whole room with the smell of salt water. Monica sits down on the bed and closes her eyes, falls back until her own short black locks cling to the pillow. Come here, she says, holds out both her bare arms. )
shipper: (❝from little hornbills for a start❞)

[personal profile] shipper 2013-06-27 03:00 pm (UTC)(link)
This is one I've nefur been down befur!

[Nepeta looks excitedly back at Eli, hands on her hips in front of the cave mouth in the pose of someone about a breath away from jumping into some serious adventuring. she's thrilled to have actually managed to not only get back out to the national park that Xanatos had brought her, but also succeed in dragging Eli along with her.

the entire trip to the caves have been filled with energetic babble about the forest and everything it could possibly contain, including comparisons to how different (and less deadly) it was from the landscape of Alternia. she's very obviously expecting nothing but good things from this trek into the mouth of the unknown]
shipper: (❝you know,I liked it better❞)

for rose obvs.

[personal profile] shipper 2013-06-27 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)
nitidus: (Default)

IT GOT HERE IN THE END THATS ALL THAT MATTERS also crying @ eridan ampora

[personal profile] nitidus 2013-06-27 03:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[if she had the time, she would pinch the bridge of her nose, count backwards from ten and then perhaps respond. as it is, she ducks out of dodge of a bullet and silent hopes eridan takes a graze to the shoulder for being a smart ass. rose is endlessly patient when she wants to be. being shot at apparently kills patience in its bed and has her itching to get things done quickly.

her powers aren't really magic. there's no spells to do what she does. in her hands, there is every negative emotion she can muster, given the physical form of a lavender light. it's pretty to look at it - it does an impressive job of blowing a whole through one grunts chest. a gun would have been neater, she thinks. next time.

she crouches down and peeks around a corner, giving eridan a wry smile and a thumbs up. she shouts back:]


Have you been shot yet?

[and then focuses on grunt #2. ]

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