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bakerstreet2016-06-30 04:05 pm
socketeer) wrote in bakerstreet2016-06-30 04:05 pm
the picture prompt meme
 the picture prompt meme I — Comment with your character.
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He smiled in turn, until she mentioned the clock at which point he felt a sharp panic rise in him.
"Yes!" He said, and without giving it any genuine thought on the implications thereof, he took her hand in his as he started running. Decorum had little place in his eyes if his friend was unhappy due to their absence.
Trumpets sounded, it was starting, just as Lucina worried, but Robin had his fair share of ceremonies under his belt to know the first few minutes meant little, and could even recall a time her father and his bride had stolen away briefly for what Robin could only assume had been...
Whatever it is lovers do. He would be fine with a tome, probably.
"Yes!" He said, and without giving it any genuine thought on the implications thereof, he took her hand in his as he started running. Decorum had little place in his eyes if his friend was unhappy due to their absence.
Trumpets sounded, it was starting, just as Lucina worried, but Robin had his fair share of ceremonies under his belt to know the first few minutes meant little, and could even recall a time her father and his bride had stolen away briefly for what Robin could only assume had been...
Whatever it is lovers do. He would be fine with a tome, probably.
[The mask did its job hiding her expression, but the pause told the agent that he got something of a reaction. Not quite the one he was gambling for, but it was better than nothing. Still, the agent was getting the sense that he had pushed his luck as far as he could with the Sith. This wasn't some dire secret vital to Imperial security he was hiding, but the habit of never telling anyone he met what he was up to at any given moment was very difficult to break. At last his smile faded into a more neutral expression, the cyborg drawing in a breath and holding up his hands, palms open and forward as he surrendered at least some of the truth.]
I assure you that I am not at all interested in any of the ruins themselves or whatever artifacts they contain.
[Would that satisfy? Hopefully. She was right to be protective...Intelligence had never been in the habit of tearing apart old tombs, it was never a good idea, but the organization always had its eyes on the Empire's present and future rather than preserving its past.]
I assure you that I am not at all interested in any of the ruins themselves or whatever artifacts they contain.
[Would that satisfy? Hopefully. She was right to be protective...Intelligence had never been in the habit of tearing apart old tombs, it was never a good idea, but the organization always had its eyes on the Empire's present and future rather than preserving its past.]
[ while she's not exactly about to let him wander freely around the place without some suspicion, there's something honest enough about his placation that imperius accepts it. she can sense no malicious intent in him -- not that she always trusts her ability to read anyone trained in the intelligence branch, and a cyborg former agent at that -- and while that doesn't give her any information on why he is here, it does eliminate a few reasons he might be. ]
So it is a visit to eye the flowers. [ her tone is dry, but not out of malice. it's the same sort of humour he might remember from their few prior interactions, when she was decently exasperated with whatever threat the empire faced that day or one of their teammates. it is, basically, how she deals with everything.
imperius jerks a gloved thumb over her shoulder, indicating away from the excavation site. ] If you take a hike an hour and a half that way, you'll find a gorgeous lake and, no, you can't borrow a speeder.
So it is a visit to eye the flowers. [ her tone is dry, but not out of malice. it's the same sort of humour he might remember from their few prior interactions, when she was decently exasperated with whatever threat the empire faced that day or one of their teammates. it is, basically, how she deals with everything.
imperius jerks a gloved thumb over her shoulder, indicating away from the excavation site. ] If you take a hike an hour and a half that way, you'll find a gorgeous lake and, no, you can't borrow a speeder.
[ i haven't seen apocalypse yet, did you want to bring jean to pre or post civil war? or did you want wanda for apocalypse era? i'm chill with spoilers ]
[ota for gen, f/m for shipping! If you prefer I can provide picture prompts, just let me know.]
[Something is wrong.
Wanda can feel it tugging at the edge of her awareness, one discordant note half-buried in the noise around it. Something in that church, from the feel of it. It could be something completely innocent (at this time of night?) or something much less so, and since she can't quite tell from here Wanda supposes she ought to investigate.
She slips out of her shoes on the steps just in case - these were made for looking good, not walking long distances (oops) or fighting (double oops). The heavy door opens with a flick of her finger and Wanda slips inside, following that feeling. Now where could it be coming from?]
Wanda can feel it tugging at the edge of her awareness, one discordant note half-buried in the noise around it. Something in that church, from the feel of it. It could be something completely innocent (at this time of night?) or something much less so, and since she can't quite tell from here Wanda supposes she ought to investigate.
She slips out of her shoes on the steps just in case - these were made for looking good, not walking long distances (oops) or fighting (double oops). The heavy door opens with a flick of her finger and Wanda slips inside, following that feeling. Now where could it be coming from?]
[Lee's family isn't rich, but apparently they're also not trailer-home-in-Minnesota poor anymore, either. The fact that this house was super cheap compared to others its size really helped along the decision while they were looking up property near her mom's new job.
And the weird history? Well. A) her dad didn't catch that bit until the obnoxious tour bus showed up outside the house two days after the moving van was gone, and B) there has never lived another human being as non-superstitious as Lee's mom. She didn't go out of her way to laugh about the idea of ghosts, but she'd looked singularly unimpressed when Lee's dad had pointed out all the past murders over that night's dinner.
'It's very tragic,' she'd agreed. 'But I think a greater tragedy would be to not take advantage of the way ghosts lower property value.'
And besides, no one had seen any ghosts yet, right? Just a few weird lights. Maybe some odd sensations that there doesn't seem to be a name for, when you're standing alone in a room.
No big deal.
In fact, the spookiest thing so far has been how Neighbor Kid seems to be really attached to visiting, and Lee's not about to tell Tate to beat it. He's not the only one who latches onto the interesting people in their lives.]
You invite yourself in again? [At least she doesn't jump like the first time he'd showed up without her hearing the front door. She'd slammed the bedroom door in his face like some kind of paranoid idiot. At least she hadn't thrown something at him?
She doesn't sound annoyed, either. Instead she just heads over to the fridge for yesterday's takeout leftovers, because Lee isn't an accomplished chef and it's two pm on a weekend. No need to get fancy.
On the way to the microwave, she stops, considers, and then plucks an apple from Tate's hands with a grin.] Thanks.
And the weird history? Well. A) her dad didn't catch that bit until the obnoxious tour bus showed up outside the house two days after the moving van was gone, and B) there has never lived another human being as non-superstitious as Lee's mom. She didn't go out of her way to laugh about the idea of ghosts, but she'd looked singularly unimpressed when Lee's dad had pointed out all the past murders over that night's dinner.
'It's very tragic,' she'd agreed. 'But I think a greater tragedy would be to not take advantage of the way ghosts lower property value.'
And besides, no one had seen any ghosts yet, right? Just a few weird lights. Maybe some odd sensations that there doesn't seem to be a name for, when you're standing alone in a room.
No big deal.
In fact, the spookiest thing so far has been how Neighbor Kid seems to be really attached to visiting, and Lee's not about to tell Tate to beat it. He's not the only one who latches onto the interesting people in their lives.]
You invite yourself in again? [At least she doesn't jump like the first time he'd showed up without her hearing the front door. She'd slammed the bedroom door in his face like some kind of paranoid idiot. At least she hadn't thrown something at him?
She doesn't sound annoyed, either. Instead she just heads over to the fridge for yesterday's takeout leftovers, because Lee isn't an accomplished chef and it's two pm on a weekend. No need to get fancy.
On the way to the microwave, she stops, considers, and then plucks an apple from Tate's hands with a grin.] Thanks.
{ So...this is Murder House.
Lydia stares up at the house from the sidewalk -- she doesn't need to do much for hiding when she's blending in between shadows and bushes so nicely. She can tell its the house from both pictures she's seen on the Internet, and from the 'Eternal Darkness Tour' she attended over the weekend. But, wow, the house looks so...different this late at night? Or does it look different? Or does it just feel different? A quick glance over her shoulder before she tries the latch on the gate. Coast seems clear. Quietly as she can, she guides the handle up and urges the gate forward, hands trembling as she goes.
She's never done anything like breaking into someplace before; her heart is pounding in her throat, and she has to take in a deep breath to help suffocate that feeling. 'If I get caught, dad will kill me--' Don't think about it, don't think about it -- that mantra is growing weak until she reminds herself that, hey, you're already here, no use in going back now.
Lydia takes quick steps up to the front landing, eyes all over the lawn until she's at the door. She knows it's locked, it's gotta be, and wouldn't you know it? The door knob doesn't budge.
Okay. With more fluid, cautious steps, Lydia moves back down the shallow stairs and wanders to the side of the house. There could be a basement latch, maybe even a trash chute she might squeeze into -- ooh, bad idea probably. Let's not get ourselves killed on the first try of entering, shall we?
And would you look at that, a quaint door on the side that, when Lydia peers in through the small glass window, kind of looks like is attached to the kitchen. Her hand rests on the doorknob: please please please... It shifts, clicks, and Lydia pushes the door open. She sighs audibly -- the anticipation might kill her before any culprit in a ghost story does.
She slips in and shuts the door, making sure to now have her flashlight in hand, even if it's stupid to use it this close to a window. Once she's deeper into the kitchen, she flicks it on and takes a gander at -- wow, this place is pretty. Lydia has seen photos, but only really dated ones off of unsolved crime websites and 4chan's /x/ board.
But she sees nothing worth photographing in here. Her free hand rests on the Nikon strung around her neck and she wanders out into what looks like a small hallway, leading out to a large room. Eyes alight with attention, lips slack from awe, Lydia takes a very careful stride into the foyer. She keeps her flashlight beam low, but damn, it's really disorienting to look through a house without any light.
She's barely glancing up at the stairs while she's trying to keep from waving the light all around where neighbors might see and feel compelled to call the police. But she does stare up at the pitch black ceiling, and it makes her feel astoundingly small; she wonders if it's just in her head, the adrenaline in her blood, the stories she's heard. Another grounding breath -- she can taste how stale the air is. }
Hello, house... { Spoken in a tone barely above a whisper. }
Lydia stares up at the house from the sidewalk -- she doesn't need to do much for hiding when she's blending in between shadows and bushes so nicely. She can tell its the house from both pictures she's seen on the Internet, and from the 'Eternal Darkness Tour' she attended over the weekend. But, wow, the house looks so...different this late at night? Or does it look different? Or does it just feel different? A quick glance over her shoulder before she tries the latch on the gate. Coast seems clear. Quietly as she can, she guides the handle up and urges the gate forward, hands trembling as she goes.
She's never done anything like breaking into someplace before; her heart is pounding in her throat, and she has to take in a deep breath to help suffocate that feeling. 'If I get caught, dad will kill me--' Don't think about it, don't think about it -- that mantra is growing weak until she reminds herself that, hey, you're already here, no use in going back now.
Lydia takes quick steps up to the front landing, eyes all over the lawn until she's at the door. She knows it's locked, it's gotta be, and wouldn't you know it? The door knob doesn't budge.
Okay. With more fluid, cautious steps, Lydia moves back down the shallow stairs and wanders to the side of the house. There could be a basement latch, maybe even a trash chute she might squeeze into -- ooh, bad idea probably. Let's not get ourselves killed on the first try of entering, shall we?
And would you look at that, a quaint door on the side that, when Lydia peers in through the small glass window, kind of looks like is attached to the kitchen. Her hand rests on the doorknob: please please please... It shifts, clicks, and Lydia pushes the door open. She sighs audibly -- the anticipation might kill her before any culprit in a ghost story does.
She slips in and shuts the door, making sure to now have her flashlight in hand, even if it's stupid to use it this close to a window. Once she's deeper into the kitchen, she flicks it on and takes a gander at -- wow, this place is pretty. Lydia has seen photos, but only really dated ones off of unsolved crime websites and 4chan's /x/ board.
But she sees nothing worth photographing in here. Her free hand rests on the Nikon strung around her neck and she wanders out into what looks like a small hallway, leading out to a large room. Eyes alight with attention, lips slack from awe, Lydia takes a very careful stride into the foyer. She keeps her flashlight beam low, but damn, it's really disorienting to look through a house without any light.
She's barely glancing up at the stairs while she's trying to keep from waving the light all around where neighbors might see and feel compelled to call the police. But she does stare up at the pitch black ceiling, and it makes her feel astoundingly small; she wonders if it's just in her head, the adrenaline in her blood, the stories she's heard. Another grounding breath -- she can taste how stale the air is. }
Hello, house... { Spoken in a tone barely above a whisper. }
Dia Starfall | SW:TOR OC | F/M for shipping or smut, ota otherwise.
pathfromdarknesstogrey
2016-07-01 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ bringing jean to mcu could be cool! i've seen cw so either pre or post is fine by me. ]
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