baedalites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baedalites) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
multiversallogs2011-12-22 05:20 pm
baedalites) wrote in multiversallogs2011-12-22 05:20 pm
Entry tags:
- @ mog hill,
- @ mog hill: apache,
- alexia swiftdawn,
- anna demirovna,
- hasibe ozcelik,
- hellboy,
- ilde decima,
- ivan,
- james t. kirk,
- john allerdyce,
- jones,
- kalinda sharma,
- megan gwynn,
- rachel conway,
- steve rogers,
- } alan shore,
- } angela montenegro,
- } billy kaplan,
- } fauxlivia dunham,
- } gaheris rhade,
- } hermione granger,
- } hilmi moran,
- } jay nagai,
- } kate bishop,
- } katherine pierce,
- } martha jones,
- } mozenrath,
- } njoki rainmaker,
- } rex lewis,
- } sebastian lemat,
- } severus snape β,
- } shawn spencer,
- } tadhg maceibhir,
- } teddy altman,
- } tim drake-wayne,
- } tommy shepherd
Bite they little heads off! Nibble on they tiny feet!
Who: EVERYONE.
What: Catenrat party.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Givdi the 22nd of Toidaren
Notes: The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread. When your characters are ready to leave, they'll be given a little wooden cheese, a glass fish, and a voucher for a big basket of snacks.
Warnings: None yet. Please put warnings up on individual threads.
The Apache is much the same as it always is: dimly lit, with the jukebox playing in the background, and the bartender serving whatever's on tap. Above the doorway and wound through a few of the sets of antlers some enterprising soul has placed a garland decorated with little blue and green fish.
This is what happens when I don't tag for a week. The words just pour out. sry sry
"Don't apologise. You did help. I like to think that even if I don't make it back, things will turn out all right for him. If you can do it, so can he." After one more squeeze, 'Liv seems to realise she's perhaps being a little too friendly with someone she's only just met and rests her hands flat on the table, a sheepish little smile to accompany the motion. "I worry too much. I think that comes with being a mother. It isn't as though he's on his own. He's got my mother, and..."
What exactly is Lincoln to her? Apart from distant now. "He's got a friend of mine, who I know will look after him and make sure he never has to be alone. So it's not all bad. I'm glad he isn't here, to be honest. I'd rather have him growing up on Earth than in Baedal."
Which brings a quirk to her brow and the corner of her mouth. A change of subject is in order. "So, hey, you're the expert. What do you think? Is this another planet or what?"
No worries! :D
It's still so new, the whole idea of being some kind of role model, someone to look up to. A good example, like his father. He smiles at her, giving her hand a squeeze in return before she pulls away. He's still not sure how this whole golden-boy thing sits on him. He's proud, but it's weird. Still taking some getting used to.
"I remember how my mom used to worry over me." He laughs. "Scratch that--she still does it, even now. I always have messages from her. Maybe it does come with the territory, I don't know. As far as where we are..."
He hesitates a moment. He hasn't shared a lot of what he's learned from McCoy about his trip home. But he's slightly buzzed, she seems all right, and she further seems like she can wrap her head around it.
"It's gotta be a parallel universe or something. I know someone who left and came back. Not of his own volition, either time. He says when he was back, it was like he'd never left. And like I'd never left, either. I can't think of any other explanation than another universe."
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Perfect sense. Clearly.
"Was he just... deposited right back where he was before he came here, then?" That someone managed to go home is a beacon of hope. But that they were also brought back tempers a lot of that.
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He pauses at her question, frowning. "I... think so? I didn't exactly... press him for details." He looks a bit sheepish, he should be more thorough, but his concern for his friend is also written all over his face. "He was taking things really hard when he got back."
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She shakes her head and sighs quietly. "What do you do for fun around here, Jim?" Easier conversation. Less critical thinking involved. "Besides attend holiday parties and make friends with morose strangers, I mean."
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He laughs softly, shaking his head, and he insists, "You're not that morose. And I-- um."
Well. He goes... to work. Or he goes... to the library. Or he spends his time... working out. Interrogating people about the city. Bothering McCoy at Hellsing's medical department?
"...I don't really get out much, I guess. But I could stand to."
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Her head tips to one side, that shoulder raising up to meet halfway in a shrug. "You could join me sometime." She smiles.
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"Yeah." He raises his glass, too. "Here's to having someone to run with, instead of something to run from." This city and its emergencies and monsters, seriously.