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bakerstreet2020-08-03 11:31 am
khaleesock) wrote in bakerstreet2020-08-03 11:31 am
Entry tags:
the rescue meme.
→ Post with your character’s name, canon, and any preferences in the subject line
→ Those tagging, go to RNG and roll for a number between one and ten.
→ Alternatively, just pick the choice you’re interested in most.
1. BAD DATE - You get a text, a phone call, or maybe you can just see the other person floundering on what clearly must be the worst date of their life. Time to step in and save the day.
2. PRISON - Maybe they've been wrongly convicted, or maybe you're an accomplice. Either way, it's jailbreak time. Maybe the guards will fall for the old 'wounded prisoner' technique.
3. TAKEN HOSTAGE - They're being held at gunpoint, either for money or for fun. Maybe you can talk down their captors — or maybe you are a captor, secretly working to help them.
4. UNWELL - Your body is damaged, your suffering taken its toll. You can't save yourself anymore. You're wounded, you're starving, maybe even dying. Someone, help!
5. YOURSELF - One bad choice after another, your self-destructive tendencies are going to get the best of you unless someone steps in to save the day.
6. BIG DAMN RESCUE - You're hovering over an active volcano, a pit of sharks, about to fall off a cliff. Whatever it is, you've only got precious seconds of life left.
7. LONELINESS - You've been secluded, locked away, and the emptiness is overwhelming. You need company, or you might just drown.
8. UNWANTED SOCIAL FUNCTION - A family reunion, your three o'clock board meeting, whatever it is, you desperately don't want to go. Hopefully your good buddy can come up with a distraction.
9. BAD ROMANCE - You're trapped in a relationship that's headed south. Maybe it's an arranged marriage, or maybe it's just someone who won't take no for an answer. You need a helping hand, maybe even a Prince(ss) Charming.
10. WILDCARD - Any kind of rescue will do! Spread your creative wings and go for it.
claude von riegan | fe:3h | ota
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[Daria loved to learn, to study. All in her free time. Books were her sanctuary away from the stupid meandering of the regular doses of stupid she had to deal with on a regular basis.
Of course then, when asked, she was willing to take courses on creative writing.
Those courses were alright. Daria’s writing was a favorite of the professors, her essays and short stories regularly getting praise for their biting wit and sharp imagery.
That was until the substitute came. A know it all, sleazy writer who thought his writing was the best thing ever without objection. Any writer, especially if they were a woman, was met with biting criticism that made no damn sense.
She was stuck in such a class, wherever Claude would be. She just wanted to get the day over with, as she was done with this clown and was ready to snap at him for how he was treating the other students.]
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[ Most wouldn't expect it of Claude, just how much he reads in his spare time. His grades are fine, largely above average, but only just. Something about his personality that may or may not be deliberate has most writing him off as slacker, indifferent unless spurred by a touch of mischief. Most would likely be shocked by his room, looking as it does as though a tornado composed of books spun through.
But, that unexpected hobby of his isn't why he's taking a creative writing course. It was one of the few that fit his schedule, and in all honesty? it sounded fun. Not the writing his own stuff part. The being nosy about what everyone else was writing part.
It had been fun, but this class, today? What a character, the caricature purporting to teach the class. It wasn't exactly a surprise. Their professor had warned them they'd be out for two weeks, had told them who would be stepping in, and a good number of their classmates had been looking forward to it.
The class met twice a week, and after the first, Claude had some serious doubts as to whether they'd get through another without bloodshed. After kicking around a few different ideas (for example: ask Miriam to read her latest, an excerpt from something she was working on, let him tear it apart only to reveal, oops, it was his own work -- but a guy this full of himself would probably recognize his own and it wouldn't be right to subject Miriam to that).
Then, he emailed the guy, asked him to meet for coffee before class, such a fan, wanted to pick his brain, he'd buy the drink. Extra large cappuccino, four shots, still sitting on the desk, recently finished. That had been a hellish half-hour, but it comes together now. After watching the man break out into a sweat and begin fidgeting, as though with discomfort, Claude stands, asks to read something he'd drafted last night, inspired by last class.
A short story, really short, one page. Hotshot writer steps in to substitute, offering incisive and moronic criticism, too bad a devious pupil had drugged his drink, huh?
Silence, as hotshot looks at devious and devious smiles at hotshot. ]
So, what do you think? I figured it'd take away from the pace to describe him going to the ER, but that would definitely be the next part.
[ At this, the man does his best impression of a fish, mouth flapping, before bolting from the room.
Yeah, he might get suspended. At best. If he really drugged him.
Funny how sixteen shots could get the heart racing. ]
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She said "apparently" the wrong thing. After meeting a barrage of criticism for her work, the usually quiet and studious Morgendorffer was met with unfounded misogyny that she was surely on line to report. But of course, being the opinionated person she was, she spouted all kinds of hard words to him about his conduct.
Her story was from her usual imagination. A woman who was tired of living on the backburner of success of colleagues who steal her work. Little did they know that her very secret was something that could make them regret their theft...
But oh, her feminist undertones was pretentious? Her allegory for someone fighting back had been done before and maybe the male colleagues worked really hard too and felt threatened that a woman was about to upstage them? What about their feelings?
Disgusting.
"Sure, I bet if I wrote about a man who thought women should go back into the kitchen, I'd make a best seller. Oh but I should change my name. Call me Dorian Morgendorffer."
The class was in an uproar. The snarky and icy queen of antisocial academia put her mouth on kill.
But...it wasn't enough. The sub was so close to sending a large amount of punishment for her.
And then...he met Claude.
And well. Just then, a smile crept on her face. Oh, but no one saw it. They heard it though. It wasn't lost. Someone rang the bell of revenge and justice.]
I think that would get a few points for the mentioning of modern events. But hey, I'm not an esteemed writer.
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Admittedly, he'd been curious as to how Daria would react. A natural point of focus, given that until he'd stood up, Daria had earned a disproportionate (well... entirely proportionate) degree of Sub's ire. The boiling point neared. And as much as he enjoys her deadpan remarks and would look forward to further verbal evisceration, there was a power imbalance, and one Sub clearly intended to exploit.
Not that Claude had devised his little scheme with the express purpose of diverting some of the heat. Nah, that would be sticking his neck out for someone, and he's no giraffe (bad analogy, move on). He'd simply had enough. You know, generally. It had been getting to be a real waste of his time.
But, getting back to it -- he'd been curious. So when Daria speaks, she has his attention (and yeah, he hears that smile). Chin propped in hand, elbow propped on desk, his smile slung indifferent, unconcerned across his face. ]
Ah, but you are Dorian Morgendorffer, future author of a best seller that's sure to start a wholesome trend of women rushing into the kitchen. Advocates for the traditional family will celebrate your name! Until the bread shortage crashes the economy.
[ ...because of all the sandwiches being made. ]
...Or something like that. Anyway, I think we're completely capable of continuing class without him.
[ It's critique, they'd read five stories from students now awaiting their turn at middling comments from their classmates. Two had gone, three remain. Claude had inserted himself as an impromptu third. ]
That, or we get pizza.
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Daria tried her best to hide a snicker into her sleeve, but she couldn’t hide it this time. There was a sincere smile from the girl who had the lack of expressions that made her infamous for so many years. She lost it to this guy who had a reputation of his own, not a thing that was lost on her. But hey, gossip was for jerks and preps. How about letting people live how they do, huh?
That was...cool. Daria knew this was a gesture to help her, when she didn’t ask for it. She never did. Yet here was this slacker guy who came in and planted a most PERFECT revenge. Not unlike she did back when-
Shucks.
Class was over.
She was packing up to go after work was done and speak to Claude about all of that when he spoke up first. A wide eye.
He offered a vice of hers now. Hahaha. There was a shock on her face before she found the words in her head.]
You save the day and you feed us. A hero’s work isn’t done, isn’t it?
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But maybe it's not all that lucky. Her surprise is further gratifying, though his neutral expression doesn't suggest it, but... ]
Oh, never. For my next trick? World peace. But, uh...
[ Rounding his eyes with just the right amount of surprise, Claude looks from Daria to the rest of the class. ]
"Feed us"? Did I unwittingly just offer to pay for the class? That might put world peace back a few years.
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The remaining few students were able to assess and get the hint.
Time to conveniently have someplace to be, rain check on the pizza, they said. Bastards, no, stay, thought Daria.
God. Of course.
Soon enough, there were enough excuses for Daria to be left alone with her savior. By the very nature of her morals and conscious, finding a reason to bail herself would just be so mean and inappropriate. Not that Daria couldn’t find a reason to be mean and avoidant. But she knew better, it wouldn’t be right.
She should just humor him. Maybe he’ll get bored and never do it again, the jerk.]
Well, look here, you did create world peace.
[A word to break the silence, but hey she remained.]