I like it. It's just I'm beat, so I'm here to say you did well and then go to sleep.
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Troubleshoot
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I really like this OOC. And I'm interested. Thing is, I might've overextended a bit these days, by making plans with a bit too many people. If you get an application from me, you can count me in - if not, just wanted you to know I really like this.
He had always felt at home in large bodies of water. For a while it seemed like the university pool could contain his desire, so he joined the swim club. But, as it got fulfilled, the need grew. It expanded to the point that the only days when he was truly in his element were those few rainy ones spent by the turbulent shore. Yes, it was fair to say Dennis had an unhealthy attachment to water. Even most of his adult life was dominated by the need to be close to it. He had opted to study fluid dynamics, hoping to better understand the strange things water sometimes did. He even got a job he hated, selling seaside arrangements over the phone - and all for the sake of his obssession. Any further, and he’d abandon air completely. He would breathe water, just like he often did in those dreams.
Today was a particularly wonderful day, as the class was taking a trip to the city’s water refinement center. For someone like Dennis, this seemed like a dream come true. He tried to share the excitement with pretty much everyone he knew - but all they saw was water becoming more watery. Even his parents - it bugged him especially how they didn’t understand. No one understood.
Heading into class - he was late. He was always late - almost as if he planned the nonsense. Truthfully though, he was just incredibly bad at the art of timing, and too grown and lazy to change his ways.
As he progressed inside, for the roll call that came before the trip, he’d stepped on some guy’s foot, knocked over a plant and caused quite a ruckus in the line. He’d finally be stopped by someone pulling on his collar. Annoyance grew into recognition, and he’d nod to Kent and bend over dusting the plant dirt from his jeans, as the other boy calmed him “You’re already signed up. I knew you’d be late. The professor probably knew it too, but it isn’t his job to do it” even if they weren’t looking at each other, they both felt each other’s eyes rolling. Mr. Price was a dick - on that much most everyone agreed. Apparently, even if you couldn’t please everyone - you could always alienate everyone. Well, he had a wife and four kids...so maybe that wasn’t quite true either. The kids must’ve been quadruplets - it was hard to believe anyone would bed the old fart on four separate occasions.
“Can you believe it? We’re actually going to see the treatment center! I heard they process over like 90% of the city’s water supply!” and as his eyes went wide, so too did Kent yawn. Apparently he was alone in his amazement and his shoulders slumped for a bit. He had given up on sharing his enthusiasm for the day. Until a female voice came up from behind him “Actually it’s closer to 86,5%” and she’d even add cheerfully “it’s a common mistake. The side plants handle partials that cover the rest” and even if he was too much in his thoughts at first, the more he looked at her, the more he saw some familiarity. He had seen her staring at him from time to time. Once she even almost spilled some water on him, but the liquid inexplicably never got out of the open bottle.
“I don’t think so! I’ve read all about it these past few days - if there were more side plants for the mismatched 5%, I’d hear about them” and he almost felt the need to stick out his tongue to this newcomer know-it-all, but decided to be mature and refrained. And good thing too, since she soon put a paper into his hand that pretty much disapproved his claims. The paper was written by none other than Professor Michael Price - figures, even when he did nothing wrong, Dennis still found a way to dislike him.
“I guess you didn’t read everything” she said as she moved away. Dennis could only sigh at his defeat as he motioned his head to Kent “Is she even in this class? Don’t remember seeing her around before”
“Yeah man, that’s Price’s daughter” and Kent almost laughed as Dennis’ face went through a myriad of colors.
“Figures..”
Today was a particularly wonderful day, as the class was taking a trip to the city’s water refinement center. For someone like Dennis, this seemed like a dream come true. He tried to share the excitement with pretty much everyone he knew - but all they saw was water becoming more watery. Even his parents - it bugged him especially how they didn’t understand. No one understood.
Heading into class - he was late. He was always late - almost as if he planned the nonsense. Truthfully though, he was just incredibly bad at the art of timing, and too grown and lazy to change his ways.
As he progressed inside, for the roll call that came before the trip, he’d stepped on some guy’s foot, knocked over a plant and caused quite a ruckus in the line. He’d finally be stopped by someone pulling on his collar. Annoyance grew into recognition, and he’d nod to Kent and bend over dusting the plant dirt from his jeans, as the other boy calmed him “You’re already signed up. I knew you’d be late. The professor probably knew it too, but it isn’t his job to do it” even if they weren’t looking at each other, they both felt each other’s eyes rolling. Mr. Price was a dick - on that much most everyone agreed. Apparently, even if you couldn’t please everyone - you could always alienate everyone. Well, he had a wife and four kids...so maybe that wasn’t quite true either. The kids must’ve been quadruplets - it was hard to believe anyone would bed the old fart on four separate occasions.
“Can you believe it? We’re actually going to see the treatment center! I heard they process over like 90% of the city’s water supply!” and as his eyes went wide, so too did Kent yawn. Apparently he was alone in his amazement and his shoulders slumped for a bit. He had given up on sharing his enthusiasm for the day. Until a female voice came up from behind him “Actually it’s closer to 86,5%” and she’d even add cheerfully “it’s a common mistake. The side plants handle partials that cover the rest” and even if he was too much in his thoughts at first, the more he looked at her, the more he saw some familiarity. He had seen her staring at him from time to time. Once she even almost spilled some water on him, but the liquid inexplicably never got out of the open bottle.
“I don’t think so! I’ve read all about it these past few days - if there were more side plants for the mismatched 5%, I’d hear about them” and he almost felt the need to stick out his tongue to this newcomer know-it-all, but decided to be mature and refrained. And good thing too, since she soon put a paper into his hand that pretty much disapproved his claims. The paper was written by none other than Professor Michael Price - figures, even when he did nothing wrong, Dennis still found a way to dislike him.
“I guess you didn’t read everything” she said as she moved away. Dennis could only sigh at his defeat as he motioned his head to Kent “Is she even in this class? Don’t remember seeing her around before”
“Yeah man, that’s Price’s daughter” and Kent almost laughed as Dennis’ face went through a myriad of colors.
“Figures..”
OOC STUFF
I'm long delayed on posting for someone. But as soon as I'm done there - I'm making a sheet too.
Alright, it took a bit longer, but we did it. I don't think I've ever done a collaboration post before. I'm happy with this one.
Atrexiel & Jig
“Main brass wants to meet. Your place - eta?”
“I have a contract on your head, Alexander. It can wait if you want me to proceed xx”
“I see a restaurant from your window”
What seemed too long after a decent threat, the man finally showed up. At that point, Sergei remembered he had forgotten to give out information on how to identify him, and it was so long since the two last met. He rose to meet the newcomer, dodging three smelly hipsters on his way. When he finally arrived, there would be no actual greeting, just a wait for the Alexander to recognize his position. The man adapted surprisingly quickly - this was a child of the Syndicate after all. After a few nods to the surrounding population and another at Sergei, Alexander would join him in the booth. It was far from ideal - but it provided sound escape from the fact that places like these actually existed. Even reading something as hipster as “Ironically organic sushi” made Sergei’s skin crawl.
“So.. you came. I wasn’t sure you would. The order was given - albeit I have leeway to steer it”
"And they've only sent you?" Keeping his cool, Alexander asked what was probably the most important question - if Sergei was alone on this assignment. And seemed to have relaxed some when he got a nod in return. At least this meant he wouldn’t be shot by someone else upon exiting the place.
Tumbling the menu through his fingers, Alexander’s rather cheerful voice, surprised Sergei “Right then, what are you in the mood for?” and in response to that, the murderer could only shrug. He wasn’t in market for some magical beetroot. Even so, he could treat himself to dinner. Repulsive as some of these creatures were, they were eating meat at some point in their lives - so they ought to know how to cook some. That’s how you survive long enough to hipsterify. “I think I’ll be having the biggest non-organic piece of some animal that suffered terribly” his smile seemed genuine. And so they'd order.
“You must be happy in your line of work,” Alexander aimed his question well, even if it was toned gently. Yet, Sergei felt no shame in what he did, so he simply agreed “It pays better than most jobs - and it involves less people trouble than you’d expect” and after a pause “I never thought I’d like it this much, actually” if Alexander was planning some sort of a guilt trip, his efforts were wasted. “It’s always nice to hear people get satisfaction from their work.” Alexander’s hint wasn’t too clandestine, but Sergei wasn’t really hanging on his every word enough to have an expected reaction. Instead, he simply gestured to the table, as the food arrived “This won’t be your last meal”. Seeing as Sergei's preferred method of execution had been poisoning his victims, he gave Alexander this courtesy. Without further ado "Where's Quinn?"
Apparently, Sergei wasn’t the only one that could get to the point, and he was met with firm words “Who’s asking? Why?”
At this point, Sergei was tiring of playing with both his food and prey “I promised your uncle I’d get you banished instead of killed. In return you’re taking Quinn and whoever else makes it with you. Their deaths can be arranged as accidents. Evidence can be..persuaded. If Vivian makes it - well it won’t even be all that challenging” the heart of the issue had been reached. In case Alexander refused compliance, there were still some poisoned cereal back at his place. A good eraser leaves no potential for loose ends. Perhaps he could even make Alexander’s uncle see that a deal was a deal whether his nephew made it or not?
“The old man has a heart after all,” Alexander made a bitter point, “It’s funny though. Last time I checked, the city was ours.” and even though he was right to some extent, Sergei felt the need to correct him “Ours would be a generous term. The city belongs to whoever claims it. You may be the claimant’s shadow, but you’re hardly worth a second look” scoffing at the hipster, Sergei resumed his meal.
“And who’s claiming it now?” Alexander continued, seemingly unphased.
“You’ve yet to answer my question” and after a sigh “I know you aren’t dealing whiplash. Stop the tough guy routine already. Your uncle has it covered” and here, Sergei seemed to show actual signs of restraint, perhaps even fear.
Moment of thought, and Alexander would imply “You’re with me, here, aren’t you? Somebody’s trying to make a move and clear us out the way.” which made sense, even to someone as out of the picture as Sergei was - yet his job wasn’t to ask those questions.
“I know it’s illogical - just like I know Quinn wouldn’t allow you to hang near him if it meant dealing with whiplash. Who’d want to set him up though? Who’d dare set you up?”
“Idiots. Have they set the dogs on him, too?”, and while Alexander’s question was a valid one - Sergei thought it had answered itself by this point “You’re all targets”
“If you’re not careful, you too.” for a moment it even seemed like Alexander was generally concerned for Sergei’s life as well. It got a nod and an emotionless reply “Ordering a hit on one of us is usually suicide - that’s why they keep us around even when we outlive our use” and he would try again, hoping he had broken some of the man’s stubborn nature “I did ask you of Quinn whereabouts”
“can it wait xx”
“I have a contract on your head, Alexander. It can wait if you want me to proceed xx”
“somewhere public. hungry?”
“I see a restaurant from your window”
*
What seemed too long after a decent threat, the man finally showed up. At that point, Sergei remembered he had forgotten to give out information on how to identify him, and it was so long since the two last met. He rose to meet the newcomer, dodging three smelly hipsters on his way. When he finally arrived, there would be no actual greeting, just a wait for the Alexander to recognize his position. The man adapted surprisingly quickly - this was a child of the Syndicate after all. After a few nods to the surrounding population and another at Sergei, Alexander would join him in the booth. It was far from ideal - but it provided sound escape from the fact that places like these actually existed. Even reading something as hipster as “Ironically organic sushi” made Sergei’s skin crawl.
“So.. you came. I wasn’t sure you would. The order was given - albeit I have leeway to steer it”
"And they've only sent you?" Keeping his cool, Alexander asked what was probably the most important question - if Sergei was alone on this assignment. And seemed to have relaxed some when he got a nod in return. At least this meant he wouldn’t be shot by someone else upon exiting the place.
Tumbling the menu through his fingers, Alexander’s rather cheerful voice, surprised Sergei “Right then, what are you in the mood for?” and in response to that, the murderer could only shrug. He wasn’t in market for some magical beetroot. Even so, he could treat himself to dinner. Repulsive as some of these creatures were, they were eating meat at some point in their lives - so they ought to know how to cook some. That’s how you survive long enough to hipsterify. “I think I’ll be having the biggest non-organic piece of some animal that suffered terribly” his smile seemed genuine. And so they'd order.
“You must be happy in your line of work,” Alexander aimed his question well, even if it was toned gently. Yet, Sergei felt no shame in what he did, so he simply agreed “It pays better than most jobs - and it involves less people trouble than you’d expect” and after a pause “I never thought I’d like it this much, actually” if Alexander was planning some sort of a guilt trip, his efforts were wasted. “It’s always nice to hear people get satisfaction from their work.” Alexander’s hint wasn’t too clandestine, but Sergei wasn’t really hanging on his every word enough to have an expected reaction. Instead, he simply gestured to the table, as the food arrived “This won’t be your last meal”. Seeing as Sergei's preferred method of execution had been poisoning his victims, he gave Alexander this courtesy. Without further ado "Where's Quinn?"
Apparently, Sergei wasn’t the only one that could get to the point, and he was met with firm words “Who’s asking? Why?”
At this point, Sergei was tiring of playing with both his food and prey “I promised your uncle I’d get you banished instead of killed. In return you’re taking Quinn and whoever else makes it with you. Their deaths can be arranged as accidents. Evidence can be..persuaded. If Vivian makes it - well it won’t even be all that challenging” the heart of the issue had been reached. In case Alexander refused compliance, there were still some poisoned cereal back at his place. A good eraser leaves no potential for loose ends. Perhaps he could even make Alexander’s uncle see that a deal was a deal whether his nephew made it or not?
“The old man has a heart after all,” Alexander made a bitter point, “It’s funny though. Last time I checked, the city was ours.” and even though he was right to some extent, Sergei felt the need to correct him “Ours would be a generous term. The city belongs to whoever claims it. You may be the claimant’s shadow, but you’re hardly worth a second look” scoffing at the hipster, Sergei resumed his meal.
“And who’s claiming it now?” Alexander continued, seemingly unphased.
“You’ve yet to answer my question” and after a sigh “I know you aren’t dealing whiplash. Stop the tough guy routine already. Your uncle has it covered” and here, Sergei seemed to show actual signs of restraint, perhaps even fear.
Moment of thought, and Alexander would imply “You’re with me, here, aren’t you? Somebody’s trying to make a move and clear us out the way.” which made sense, even to someone as out of the picture as Sergei was - yet his job wasn’t to ask those questions.
“I know it’s illogical - just like I know Quinn wouldn’t allow you to hang near him if it meant dealing with whiplash. Who’d want to set him up though? Who’d dare set you up?”
“Idiots. Have they set the dogs on him, too?”, and while Alexander’s question was a valid one - Sergei thought it had answered itself by this point “You’re all targets”
“If you’re not careful, you too.” for a moment it even seemed like Alexander was generally concerned for Sergei’s life as well. It got a nod and an emotionless reply “Ordering a hit on one of us is usually suicide - that’s why they keep us around even when we outlive our use” and he would try again, hoping he had broken some of the man’s stubborn nature “I did ask you of Quinn whereabouts”
Mwaahahahhaha
Sooner you sleep, sooner you wake into that day off.
Sooner you sleep, sooner you wake into that day off.
Here I am, in the joyous land of 7 AM.
It was slow and unproductive - just how I like it.
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