Work and Work - Well those cars never seem to stop coming

[sockhopsolly]

THE ON-DUTY MEME



We're all used to playing our characters in special circumstances--sharing a bath, AUed into a robot, in the rain, lost in the ball pit (well that's one way to get your extra hour)...but how often do we get to actually play our characters doing their day jobs?

This meme is for just that.

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Write a starter about your character going about their day/night at work, wherever that may be.

If your character is a doctor, write them checking in on a patient, or having a meal in the hospital cafeteria. If they're a lawyer, write them at court. If they're a professional ghost-hunter? Yeah, that'd be a pretty neat starter too!

Be sure to include some sort of hook that allows other characters to join in the action, even if your character works alone. Maybe they brought their pile of research out to a cafe? Maybe they need help with something?

2. Respond to other characters' starters.

3. Thread. Have a good day at work, or perhaps an awful day at work.

Comments

Alec 'Bunny' Stebbins | Changeling: the Lost OC | OTA

[conjuredrabbit]

'Scuze me, I think I got a package for you.

[Bunny's relatively well known as a courier, both among mundane parties looking for one who's discreet and fast and between parts of the city's supernatural community. He's currently holding out a small parcel, looking nervous. Those with enhanced senses will note something oddly lapine about him--the scent of rabbit fur, the sound of a heart that thrums faster than a human's would]

That is your name on it, right?

[vevevavoom]

Yep. [Nora can't help sounding a bit short, a bit tired. She exhaled loudly as she popped that 'p'.] That's me. Every damn day.

[She reaches out to take the package - a ritual item filled with dark magic that she will neutralize if possible and put a protection around, if not. Either way, it will get sorted and at least it wasn't out wreaking havoc in the world anymore. Amazing what you can find on Ebay. Cursed objects sounded like a good investment until you were crying over chiropractic bills after your neck turned 360 degrees and you walked all funny bent over backwards. The courier looks a bit...twitchy. He alright? She blinks. And then her brow inches up like it might have done on a severe school teacher waiting on an answer.]

Do I need to sign sumptin'?

Moonshade | Elfquest | OTA (cw: animal death)

[holtfinder]

[While she serves her tribe as a tanner, today she's out in the woods hunting. Perhaps you also have your eye on that large buck, or you're in the woods for some other reason, but the arrow darting past to bury itself in the deer's eye comes from above, where a small elf is perched high in a tree.]

[nearamir]

[Unfortunately, Faramir's day job is to keep people out of these woods. The deer-hunting was just to supplement the camp's rations.]

[His own bow is already half-drawn, and now aimed unwaveringly at the figure in the tree. He is an intimidating figure - a tall man, masked and hooded, his grey eyes sharp and merciless.]

Unstring the bow, and I will lower mine.

[holtfinder]

[Meanwhile, she's less than four feet tall, dressed in simple leathers, and has long pointy ears. There's a look of defiance on her face as she glowers at him.]

You presume to give me orders, human?

[A wolf--not a dog, or even a wolfdog--comes around the base of the tree she's perched in, growling at Faramir. Her mount, and her protection when she's treed.]

[nearamir]

[His eyes dart momentarily to the wolf, but the arrow doesn't move. She is clearly not human, but to his eyes, neither does she look Elven, and the wolf does not dissuade him from his doubts about her origins. Wolves are a favoured mount of Mordor, after all.]

[If the wolf does attack, he will have to drop his bow to go for his sword, and it may take him longer than the split second he would have. He will just have to hope that it is not needed.]

It is my charge to protect these woods. Would you have me shirk my duty?

[He sighs, and his tone gentles a little.]

I would take no delight in harming you, lady. But I cannot let you roam freely in this place, not knowing your intent or your allegiance. Come; join me on the ground, and we may both put our weapons aside.

Randolph Waldstern | OC | OTA

[professorhex]

Is this your first tattoo?

[Randolph's going through all the preliminary steps; the stencil is printed and laid out, his ink colors are in the pretty little cups. He's got everything he needs for this particular project.

Perhaps you've asked him for something wholly ornamental; he's good with delicate jewelry-like designs in black and grey. Perhaps you're looking for something symbolic. But there's also a few who seek him out for something more...purposed. Randolph is the guy in town who those interested in occult and esoteric tattoos, meant for warding or other purposes, tend to visit most.]

[constantblaze]

[John looks at him flatly, and then bursts out laughing.]

Aw, you're taking the piss. We're going to get on all right.

[He's an occultist and an aging punk. The only shocking thing is that he came to a professional for this one - but it's hard to stick-and-poke your own shoulder, and he needs this right.]

Mix this in, yeah?

[He digs in the pocket of his trenchcoat, pulling out a baggie and holding it out. The powder inside it is a mixture of grey and maroon: ash and blood.]

[professorhex]

Oh, lovely. You'll need to watch this one extra carefully for infection.

[Not that he's saying no--someone hands him a baggie like that, he knows it's for serious, and he'll absolutely do it, unless the baggie's full of iron filings. That kills the fae-made construct.]

What's it all from?

[constantblaze]

Ah, that'd be the lovely little town of Nunya.

[Nobody ever accused him of being mature. Old, yes, mature, no.]

[He shrugs off his coat and starts unbuttoning his shirt.]

I'll slap some Savlon on it when I get home, don't worry. Can I smoke in here?

Daria Sokhova | MCU OC

[formerwidow]

[She has her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, her apron clean, and she offers a smile as she presents herself to the table.]

My name is Daria and I will be your server this evening. Can I get you anything to drink?

St. Trina | Elden Ring | OTA

[eepyrean]

[She comes during nightmares, or moments of extreme instability or duress. Having a mental breakdown? She is there, in a cloud of water lily scent, and she brings slumber with her. Calm. Serenity. The madness fades, the pain subsides, the nightmares begin to dissipate.

For a brief, wonderful moment, life has no burdens. The sleep is perfect and restful.

Once they fall asleep, they may see her there, as well. To many people, she appears as a young woman: Garbed in a flowing, petal-like robe, her lavender hair cascading down her back, her presence is mature and soothing. To many others, she is a young girl, demure and unintimidating, smiling gently. To a few others, however, they may well see her as a young boy, with shining gold eyes and long golden hair, braided intermittently. It all just depends on what they need.

So, what do they need?

Saint Trina is here to help.]

Nancy | Oliver Twist | ota

[stauncherhearted]

[At the end of the bar is a young woman. She's dressed well, but anyone who can get close enough will be able to see the Temu quality of her clothes. Her makeup is dark, hair curled, and her lips are red. With a glass of whiskey in hand, Nancy watches the bar, waiting for someone, the right someone.

When she spots them, she gives a warm smile.]

Waiting for anyone, love?

[musts]

( jack is, indeed, waiting for someone, but they're almost forty minutes late. either they've been delayed, or he's been stood up. in whatever case, being alone and unaccompanied too long here might eventually be noticed and remembered, especially with how frequently he glances between his watch and the entrance.

luck is on his side, at least a little, tonight. this young woman's warm smile and pretty eyes could be enough to help conceal him in this thin crowd should his other friends ever show.

his expression is one of mild surprise, and his mouth curls into a sheepish smile. )

Uh... you? Kidding, kidding. ( awkwardly chuckling, he finishes off his drink. ginger ale. it's too early to get drunk. or maybe he should? )

[stauncherhearted]

[Nancy ducks her head slightly, laughing. She shakes her head,] Not bad, not bad. Almost makes me wish you weren't kidding.

[She gives him a cheeky wink, but turns her body toward him on the stool.] Date stand you up?

[musts]

( his expression doesn't change. that's who he'll play tonight: the jilted date; the guy with his heart on his sleeve. it's an easy explanation for why he's here at the bar, alone. he had a date, but she stood him up.

frowning, he checks his watch once more. forty-two minutes late. ) Looking like it, yeah.

( he pulls over a bowl of associated nuts, and pops one into his mouth. they're stale but it's something to nosh on and add to the act of a bar patron. ) And you?

sorry this is a bit left-field, but i thought it might be fun

[halfinlovewith]

[The chirpy goth girl doesn't look like she's there as a punter, but she did sit down very close, and she does keep looking at Nancy and not drinking, so it's a fair question.]

[She smiles. It's a beautiful smile, the kind that makes you feel like you've always been her friend.]

I'm afraid so. Come on, sit down.

yes good!

[stauncherhearted]

[There is something so warm and familiar about this woman that Nancy can't help but listen to her. She takes her drink, takes a seat across from her.]

I should warn you right now, I'm not usually one for women.

[That's what she's doing, right? Trying to pick Nancy up for the night?]

But if that's not a problem, I'm sure we can work something out. [Best to get right to the point, because if this woman wants someone more comfortable with another woman, she should know right off the bat.]

/slides on in here

[yeahmagnets]

[ The bar hums low like a bad thought he can’t shake, neon bleeding down the bottles like the whole place is bruised. Jesse slumps in the corner seat, hoodie half-on, half-off his shoulders, a half-empty glass of something bitter sweating against his fingertips. The world’s too loud outside, too sharp (cars and cops and the ghosts of people he couldn’t save) but in here, it’s just static and silence wrapped in bass.

He didn’t come looking for company. Didn’t come looking for anything, really, except maybe to disappear in a room full of strangers who aren’t gonna ask him why his hands won’t stop shaking or what he’s running from this time. But then, there she is. At the end of the bar, framed in cigarette smoke and cheap light like a portrait someone meant to paint better. She’s dressed like she’s got somewhere to be, but he can see it; the little tells. Fabric that clings wrong, too thin to be the real thing. Lipstick red like a dare, eyes like they already know how the night ends. And fuck if that doesn’t hook something in him and tug it loose.

Jesse watches her watch the room, slow and deliberate, like she’s waiting on a storm she already knows is coming. There’s weight in the way she holds her glass. Purpose. Like everything she touches should mean something. And then she smiles. Warm. Open. Like she just picked him out of a crowd and decided he’s the one worth burning time on. It’s not the kind of smile people give him anymore.

So, of course, he takes the bait, slow and casual, trying not to let the hurt show in the way he moves. Like his bones remember things he’s trying to forget. He walks up and slides onto the stool next to her, dragging his drink along like a shadow, and offers her a crooked, whiskey-worn grin. ]

Wasn’t lookin’ for anyone... [ His voice is low, like something half-confessed. ] But, uh...maybe I just found you?

[ And maybe he did come here to disappear, but now he’s not so sure he wants to. ]

aww yiss

[stauncherhearted]

[She's been doing this for too long. She's young, but the bar scene is newer to her- a sign of trust that she's not waiting in a motel room for someone while Bill stood outside to collect. She prefers this, being able to actually connect and talk to people.

In a better world, she'd be wined and dined by a string of politicians and philanthropists. But in this one, she's watching as a man moves across the room to her. He knows, of course, because her smile and her eyes say it, what she's here selling. And he doesn't care, so there'll be no dancing around each other.

When he gets closer, she can see how blue his eyes are, blue as anything, and that grin of his- tonight will be easy, she thinks. Fun, maybe even. She likes when it's fun. When it's all personable. It's easier to stop thinking about it as a business transaction then.

She leans forward, gently pushing her breasts together.] Oh, have you? [She keeps her eyes on him, still smiling.] I'm Nancy. [She extends her hand.] And what can I call you?

Rowan O'Cleary | OC | OTA

[medicalling]

[The E.D. is busy, as always, but that's to be expected from any hospital in a thriving city. Dr. O'Cleary can be found moving from resident to resident, checking over diagnoses, walking interns through techniques, and dispensing as much calm and charm as he can.

When a moment to eat rears its head, he'll likely be found snagging something from the cafeteria and bringing it up to the roof to eat. The ambulance bay is a bit too noisy and polluted for him, and the rooftop provides a preferred view while he wolfs down what he can, while he can.

Then it's back to greeting incoming patients and trying to mend what he can before patients are sent off to whatever wing of the hospital they need most.]

J'onn J'onzz 👽 DC - OTA

[yourfavorite]

Brief bio- A shapeshifting warrior poet alien, who splits his time between superheroics and many human lives, as he tries to find his place on Earth.

Feel free to pick a secret identity. I'll do a custom starter for them. Otherwise, two below from his main identities.

---

The life of a superhero is never calm. The never-ending battle, as some call it, can call for action at any time. This is especially true for J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter. His speciality in team-ups, task forces and leagues has him in contact with people around the world.

"Thank you for coming," J'onn greets just one such person, as they emerge from the teleportation tube in a wave of shimmering light. The technological wonderland of the Justice League Watchtower is quiet today, but being called there is undoubtedly the first step in a grand adventure. "I have asked you here on business, I'm afraid."

---

It's a curious thing, to be an alien. J'onn thinks to himself. An alien amongst aliens, the last of your kind. There are so many mysteries left to him. Every question raises more. It's in some ways a pleasing comfort for a detective to always have work. In other ways, it's frustrating to have no solution in sight, and what could be worse than an unsolvable case?

No wonder Detective John Jones always pounces on any mystery, then.

"You must know I have an office," he says in that low, heavy voice with a short drawl. The perfect voice of a noir protagonist. His comment is devoid of annoyance, as he stands in the mouth of the alleyway, his silhouette recognisable as a huge man, trench flapping lightly in the wind, and fedora tipped down enough that one eye peeks from its shadow. The unspoken question is why the message had been left there to meet here. Questions. The more he asks, the more there are.

Ri!Kusuriuri | Mononoke (2007) | OTA

[meds4sale]

1. Selling Medicine

Despite his 'job' being a means to an end, he still knows how to do it.

He knows how to do it very well.

Or rather, he know how to make medicine very well. Even after all these years, the actual concept of money and transactions still mystify him a bit.

Maybe you find him at a stall, or a street corner, or a seedy establishment, or in an even seedier alleyway. Either way, he's selling.

You buying...?

2. Mononoke

So long as there are Mononoke in the world, there is a sword to slay them. And so long as that sword exists, it needs a hand to wield it.

Unfortunately, to get from point A to point B, the Medicine Seller requires the Form, Truth, and Regret to unsheathe the aforementioned sword. And to get that, he needs to question the people involved in the creation of the Mononoke.

And it's not as though these monstrosities spawn from sunshine, flowers and bunny rabbits, so it's no wonder the victims involved are reticent to share their role in what led to this thing's formation.

Well, it's not like the Mononoke is going anywhere.

He certainly isn't. He's got all the time in the world.

Do you...?

[kuukokujinjanozenko]

[Care for a thing with a fox of another stripe? Could be they're both investigating the same mononoke problem in their own way--or they could have met that way and now she's investigating him at his day job.]

The Lamb | Cult of the Lamb

[baaphomet]

[His job mostly consists of culling heretics, slaying the old gods, and building a cult of assorted small animals. He also does a lot of cleaning and cooking. In fact, odds are pretty good you will see him sweeping or cooking some awful looking gruel.

However, if you need a god or five killed, you won't find anyone more qualified than this fluffy little lamb.]