holyofholies ([personal profile] holyofholies) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2014-10-03 05:23 pm

Rainy Day Meme

♫ Click for rainy mood

Looks like the weather forecast was right; it's absolutely pouring! And most people are complaining about the sudden downpour.

But forget those negative nellies! Just post a comment with your series name and character name as usual, as well as any other notes you wish to add, then pick a prompt using the RNG and get started!

(Prompts)
1. OMG RAIN!!!

Rain is just the BEST THING EVER, RIGHT?! Well, that's what you think and you're determined to have a good time. Either going for a walk or splashing through puddles or even just sitting around and getting wet, you're going to milk every second of this rain and drag your friends along for the ride.

2. FUCK YOU, RAIN.

Oh god, it's raining. This just completely ruins your day. Maybe you were planning to go shopping but the roads are still flooded up, or because the school closed thanks to the storm, you need to hire a last minute babysitter for your kids. Whatever the reason for it, you're not pleased about this rain and you don't care what anyone else thinks.

3. RAIN SIEGE

Oh lord, it looks like you're stuck inside. It's raining too hard for you to even think of leaving! Will you make a daring escape in a ridiculous raincoat or will you just give up and watch TV? But what if you run out of snacks? Or the TV reception dies?!

4. A WALK IN THE RAIN

Nothing like the sound of rain beating against your umbrella, right? You don't really care either way about the chaos and even though it's chilly, the one thing you want to do today is head out for a walk in the rain and maybe grab a hot chocolate on the way back.

5. WILDCARD

Either combine any one of the above prompts or come up with your own scenario!
busdriver: (pic#7365490)

5. it assumes a lot, so please tell me if this doesn't work for you.

[personal profile] busdriver 2014-10-06 11:34 am (UTC)(link)
The rain's started to come down a lot heavier, and May's been out in it for half the day. There's a lot of noise from the peanut gallery—over her earpiece—about how she must be immune to the cold. She isn't. Jeans and a motorcycle jacket only do so much. They're a hindrance, after a point. She feels heavy on her feet.

It wouldn't help to talk about it.

Once she has her eyes on a target, it's best to maintain radio silence. And she does, for the record, have eyes on her target. Doctor Octopus (an alias is never good news) is a big guy, tall and broad. It's a surprise to her, even with all the intel they've got. Somehow, when she hears cybernetically augmented nuclear physicist, she thinks smaller. Her mistake.

Shadowing him is careful work. He's a very smart man. He's not subtle walking down a street, but he is tactical. Justifably paranoid, if paranoia's what it is. He moves like someone who fully expects to be followed. If that weren't the case, she could've been out of the rain a lot sooner.

Eventually, he makes a turn down an alley and it gives her the opportunity she's been waiting for. She cuts through a restaurant, then waits out back. Looks convincingly casual standing there, too, as though she stepped out for a cigarette, with her arms crossed and her weight distributed to favor a hip against the wall.

In that respect, wet hair and the fresh raindrops on her shoulders probably work against her; evidence of the pursuit. For a small woman, May's built solid. Her physical self-awareness signals gymnast, athlete, martial artist. She doesn't have Romanoff's charms, but it doesn't take a people-person to make a pitch.

"Dr Octavius," she starts, pushing off the wall. Her tone doesn't evoke a chance meeting, "Let's talk."
pridegoeth: (incognito)

Haven't seen the show but I'm definitely game!

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-06 06:49 pm (UTC)(link)
He knows just how conspicuous he is, and it's a rare person who keeps an eye out for pursuit not only from the street, but from above. That said, with the actuators under his coat he's limited to his own two eyes to keep a lookout. The rain, too, limits visibility and has also left him in a miserable mood. It's a good cover to be out and about in, since people are less likely to give him a second glance, but it's also cold. With a length of metal fused up his spine, soaking in the ambient temperature, to say the cold is uncomfortable for him is an understatement.

He's eager to be out of the weather as soon as possible, and while moving across the rooftops is likely to be colder still, it's also so much faster. With this intent in mind, he turns the corner to the alley and- what's this, an employee on a smoke break? Of all the rotten luck...

As soon as she speaks, he tenses, eyes narrowing behind the dark glasses. Under the long coat, the actuators rustle softly, a quiet warning. Up close he's even bigger, looming in the alley mouth. Several inches over six feet with a stocky build to match, and while it's not all fat, he does look like a man who enjoys his meals. The sunglasses obscure his eyes, but the heavy eyebrows are lowered in a scowl.
Edited 2014-10-06 19:49 (UTC)
busdriver: (pic#7365522)

shouldn't be an issue. how about ca:tws?

[personal profile] busdriver 2014-10-08 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
She steps forward, slow and deliberate, into a conversational distance that leaves him plenty of personal space. No one was able to tell her the exact maximum range of his actuators, but conservative estimates would put her well inside of it. She's aware, accordingly alert, watching the bulk of his coat.

Maintenance is harder at forty-eight than it was in her twenties, but she eats right, sleeps right, practices tai chi. Civilian clothing does nothing to banish the ghost of a uniform. There's paramilitary conditioning in her gait and, once she stops, in her stance. What's enough to surprise her isn't enough to intimidate her. She's used to having the height disadvantage.

"My name is Melinda May." He didn't ask, but it's part of the script. At this early juncture, a verbal response would be more than she needs. She's not much of a conversationalist, herself. "I'm here to make you an offer," she adds, notably without a word about who empowered her to make it.
pridegoeth: (mild frown)

Um. Been working too much to see movies but not afraid of spoilers.

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-08 11:42 am (UTC)(link)
According to the spec sheets, Dr. Otto Octavius is fifty-one years old, with no military background to speak of. He didn't have laser eye surgery until roughly ten years ago, and before that he wore such thick glasses the army wouldn't look at him twice. Yet the way he shifts subtly on his feet, keeps his hands loose and open, and his face impassive, all these scream of his readiness to defend himself. He's no stranger to fighting, and without any training his best teacher has been raw and painful experience, and plenty of it.

For the time being, the metal arms remain hidden under his coat, but they remain an implied threat that won't be going away.

"What's the offer, and from whom?" His voice is deep and rolling, but he has the cultured, accent-less tone of someone not unused to giving academic lectures.
busdriver: (pic#7365521)

fair enough! sorry for my late.

[personal profile] busdriver 2014-10-11 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)
If his painful experience has taught him anything about spotting concealed weapons, he'll probably know that she doesn't have a firearm. She's made contact with a lot of unusual people, like this, and seldom ever with definite expectations about how it'll play out. A gun wouldn't make her more confident. Mostly, she thinks it makes the other party nervous.

May's going to be watching for his reaction, with a pressureless stare, direct and forthright and with no obvious signs of deception. She's trained to lie, and lie well, but what she's offering is a lot more dangerous. It's a limited truth. "A scientific consultant position with SHIELD. We need an energy expert." She has no strong accent, either. She's just calm, inexpressive; saving up all her tones for tonal languages.

As for the offer, well, it would've meant more a few months ago, with SHIELD in their stride as an espionage and counter-terrorism agency. They've been disgraced and dismantled since, labelled as terrorists themselves. He'd be easily forgiven for not recognizing any kind of authority here, or for doubting that they'd be able to provide him with decent incentives. He'd have every right to be skeptical, too, that he's wanted purely for his expertise. She's anticipating that one.
pridegoeth: (explaining)

S'okay! Always excited for replies!

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-11 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Facing people with firearms is a more recent experience, but she doesn't look or sound quite like the police. Military or something shadier, perhaps, and then she gives him his answer. SHIELD. He keeps an ear to the ground these days, or several really, as many as he can intimidate into feeding him information without drawing the attention of the local vigilantes that he's building a network. He knows what sort of people SHIELD associates with, and he knows they've had their recent troubles, but they must have fallen far indeed to come to somebody the press paints as walking the opposite side of the line.

It could be a trap. It has to be a trap. He's not trained in the ways that she is, and despite the concealment of the dark glasses she can probably glimpse something of his thought process, perhaps the hint of a beginning sneer, the subtly shifting stance that speaks of distrust. As she speaks to him, they could have other agents surrounding the position, snipers, or technicians with some wireless devices that aim to disable the actuators at his back. To call Doc Ock paranoid is something of an understatement.

On the other hand, it's wet and the cold from the harness has already crept deep into his bones. It's been a very long, hard road since he pulled himself out of the river, half-drowned (or possibly drowned and resuscitated). He's had to move carefully, scraping together a life in the worst way possible because that's the only means left available to him. Scientific consultant sounds like a downright cushy job. He's not getting any younger. Threatening and stealing resources for his personal research projects is a painfully slow process.

The large man's mouth twists, as if several expressions are at war with each other, and he rolls his shoulders just a little to stifle a shiver. Red lights, at first faint but blooming into bright points in the shadows around his ankles, tilt to watch the strange woman, the surrounding alley, the street behind. They're still keeping out of view, and perhaps they can be forgiven for simply being watchful and defensive. "SHIELD is no friend of mine, but I'm listening..."

It has to be a trap...