These ideas just keep rolling - love it! Happy smiling machines of death dealing - what's not to love, I suppose?Igraine Member
- Last Seen: 9 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Igraine
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 1282 (0.31 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Igraine 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
AmongHeroes
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
These ideas just keep rolling - love it! Happy smiling machines of death dealing - what's not to love, I suppose?OH that Sergeant Davis is a magnificent bastard! And yeah, as for the triple post, what Idle said - I think Mahz may have another fix to do imminently, rather like the last time this started happening. White screen = Do Not Refresh/Resubmit ><
And yeah, as for the triple post, what Idle said - I think Mahz may have another fix to do imminently, rather like the last time this started happening. White screen = Do Not Refresh/Resubmit ><RoadRash said
Dear God, nobody say "bourbon" again. I drank more than was safe, or necessary. I swear to God, I'm never touching liquor again... [until tomorrow night, after this shitty hangover passes... ]
There. Fixt for you RR!
Wonderful follow on post for Ester, Idle *thumbs up*
*grins at Lillian* Come play with us Lil... Come plaaaaaaaaaaay... Irresponsibility has its perks too, and you'll be in the very best of company! 
*pushes over the box of tissues to Kuro with a sniffle* All the darn feels... I hate it when I get something caught in my eye when there are feels out there too. People get the wrong idea, that there's a soul beneath the rough exterior or something...
*pushes over the box of tissues to Kuro with a sniffle* All the darn feels... I hate it when I get something caught in my eye when there are feels out there too. People get the wrong idea, that there's a soul beneath the rough exterior or something...
Gardens which will be far better scented than holographic projections of a forest path on a summer day - I imagine Ester's gardens will be very popular :) And hey, why not shake up the traditional idea of a space ship, and play around with it a bit with holograms and aquariums and such? Could be fun..
And Heroes, I'm afraid we have a zero tolerance for honest mistakes policy *shakes head sadly* (and totally doesn't matter I just made that up on the spot). Appropriate disciplinary measures tbd...
And Heroes, I'm afraid we have a zero tolerance for honest mistakes policy *shakes head sadly* (and totally doesn't matter I just made that up on the spot). Appropriate disciplinary measures tbd...
It is three years Kuro - and I am so glad to have so many wonderful reads this morning, all late waking up and such. Fantastic material all
"To the helmsman goes the victory!"
Antonia's head fell back, her eyes closed as she groaned to the stars in the heavens, to her beloved-but-too-slow Silverfish bested by the grinning fool just above their heads.
"Merde."
In the silence following Barlow's first pronouncement, the rogue rubbed at her eyeballs irritably with her fingertips, and then?
Then she just began to laugh. Softly at first, not even the tiniest quaver of a whisper in the near instantaneous uproar, drowned in the jubilant cries of an entire crew of pirates about to drink their near endless fill. But her mirth grew with theirs, and Antonia just gave herself over to the laughter. To hell with it.
Truly, only the night before she fled the arms of an obsessed madman, and fell into the arms of the only man she'd ever loved. Morning's light greeted her with a lily's kiss, the trust of her dearest friends and the safekeeping of her precious child. Antonia was blessed. God in His heavens and all the sweet fickle loa were watching over her, keeping safe and close all the ones she held so dear. May she never be so wretched in all her life, that she could bear nothing more noxious than the annoying, knowing grin of Jax.
Besides, she still had a slim hope her as-yet-unpresented gift to the helmsman might win her a measure of relief from Jax' laughter...
Still chuckling to herself, Antonia determined she would make the most of her time on the deck. Let the victorious helmsman and the conquered captain perch atop the mast, swap her secrets and play at lookout. She hadn't the least desire to drink - she rarely did - but this was the first chance the whole day long she'd had a moment to spend with Luc.
The rogue smiled as she caught sight of the boy, composed as ever in the midst of the celebratory ruckus while he watched the crew. Antonia slipped like a shadow among the men, sneaking up behind Luc as to wrap an arm about his slender shoulder, giggling as she pulled him close.
"Tante 'Tonia!" Luc laughed when he realized who it was that'd snatched him up, beaming up at his beloved aunt proudly. "Jax won!"
"Oh, I know mon petit chou-chou," the rogue grinned with a resigned sigh, "Believe me I know... "
"It was the shark's tooth you know," the boy continued, happily oblivious to his aunt's good-humored distress. "He kissed the shark's tooth, the one from Lady Moon - he told me to bring it for luck. I feel some bad for the Captain though, that he didn't get to share that luck, what with him being a cabin... Er... " Luc flushed for a moment, horrified that he'd very nearly given away the secret of the Cabin Boy's Club - and he hadn't even been a member for a full day! Jax would never forgive him!
"What with being the captain and all. Doesn't seem... Fair... "
Antonia's brow wrinkled with curiosity,
"I... see. Mostly. Well at any rate, what do you say we let the men to their drink? You're done with your duties this day, and I've some time before I must return to the crow's nest. Let's find us a quiet spot then, or rather, one a good bit quieter than this - and we'll share a story or two them, hmm?"
Luc's face lit with anticipation, nodding his head quickly in perfect agreement - until he turned to peer over his shoulder, toward Nicolette who had only just emerged from her quarters. He grew still for a moment, thoughtful now as he watched the beautiful, golden woman draw closer. "May we ask Mademoiselle Beauchamp to join us? She may enjoy our stories as well."
"You don't believe she hates you anymore then?" Antonia asked, a curious chuckle surprised from her, her grey-eyed gaze following Luc's toward the approaching First Mate.
"Oh... Oh no. I was mistaken, Tante 'Tonia. I know she doesn't hate me. I think... " Luc's small brow furrowed for a moment, the image of Nicolette's unguarded and vulnerable moment, and all the pain relentlessly secreted behind those incomparable blue eyes. He was only a boy after all, but seeing a great deal more that others may never note was in his blood.
"I think she is sad. So sad, sometimes. No, she doesn't hate me at all. Mademoiselle Beauchamp is too busy hating herself." Luc's dark eyes turned upward to his aunt's face. "I bet your stories would make her happy. They make me happy."
The rogue ran her fingers lovingly over the lengths of the boys ebony ringlets, the light of genuine pride shining behind those thoughtful grey eyes. "Of course we can ask, Luc. Why, I bet Mademoiselle Beauchamp may even have a tale or two of her own to share as well if she wishes."
Antonia stood to her full height - though not nearly enough to get her gaze much past the shoulders of most the men. Still, she waved to the First Mate - her hand certainly got well over their heads at the least - and began to wind her way toward Nicolette, Luc at her side.
"Bon soir, Mademoiselle Beauchamp!" the rogue called to the First Mate, waving Nicolette closer still until they could hear one another without shouting. "Luc and I were going to find a quieter place to enjoy our allotted free moments sans les spiritueux obviously, and share a story or two. Adventure, myth, legend, tall tales and not a few outright lies on occasion, so long as they be harmless and all in good fun - those are our fare. If we light somewhere that you may yet keep a solid eye on this drink-sodden crew, would you care to join us?"
Antonia's head fell back, her eyes closed as she groaned to the stars in the heavens, to her beloved-but-too-slow Silverfish bested by the grinning fool just above their heads.
"Merde."
In the silence following Barlow's first pronouncement, the rogue rubbed at her eyeballs irritably with her fingertips, and then?
Then she just began to laugh. Softly at first, not even the tiniest quaver of a whisper in the near instantaneous uproar, drowned in the jubilant cries of an entire crew of pirates about to drink their near endless fill. But her mirth grew with theirs, and Antonia just gave herself over to the laughter. To hell with it.
Truly, only the night before she fled the arms of an obsessed madman, and fell into the arms of the only man she'd ever loved. Morning's light greeted her with a lily's kiss, the trust of her dearest friends and the safekeeping of her precious child. Antonia was blessed. God in His heavens and all the sweet fickle loa were watching over her, keeping safe and close all the ones she held so dear. May she never be so wretched in all her life, that she could bear nothing more noxious than the annoying, knowing grin of Jax.
Besides, she still had a slim hope her as-yet-unpresented gift to the helmsman might win her a measure of relief from Jax' laughter...
Still chuckling to herself, Antonia determined she would make the most of her time on the deck. Let the victorious helmsman and the conquered captain perch atop the mast, swap her secrets and play at lookout. She hadn't the least desire to drink - she rarely did - but this was the first chance the whole day long she'd had a moment to spend with Luc.
The rogue smiled as she caught sight of the boy, composed as ever in the midst of the celebratory ruckus while he watched the crew. Antonia slipped like a shadow among the men, sneaking up behind Luc as to wrap an arm about his slender shoulder, giggling as she pulled him close.
"Tante 'Tonia!" Luc laughed when he realized who it was that'd snatched him up, beaming up at his beloved aunt proudly. "Jax won!"
"Oh, I know mon petit chou-chou," the rogue grinned with a resigned sigh, "Believe me I know... "
"It was the shark's tooth you know," the boy continued, happily oblivious to his aunt's good-humored distress. "He kissed the shark's tooth, the one from Lady Moon - he told me to bring it for luck. I feel some bad for the Captain though, that he didn't get to share that luck, what with him being a cabin... Er... " Luc flushed for a moment, horrified that he'd very nearly given away the secret of the Cabin Boy's Club - and he hadn't even been a member for a full day! Jax would never forgive him!
"What with being the captain and all. Doesn't seem... Fair... "
Antonia's brow wrinkled with curiosity,
"I... see. Mostly. Well at any rate, what do you say we let the men to their drink? You're done with your duties this day, and I've some time before I must return to the crow's nest. Let's find us a quiet spot then, or rather, one a good bit quieter than this - and we'll share a story or two them, hmm?"
Luc's face lit with anticipation, nodding his head quickly in perfect agreement - until he turned to peer over his shoulder, toward Nicolette who had only just emerged from her quarters. He grew still for a moment, thoughtful now as he watched the beautiful, golden woman draw closer. "May we ask Mademoiselle Beauchamp to join us? She may enjoy our stories as well."
"You don't believe she hates you anymore then?" Antonia asked, a curious chuckle surprised from her, her grey-eyed gaze following Luc's toward the approaching First Mate.
"Oh... Oh no. I was mistaken, Tante 'Tonia. I know she doesn't hate me. I think... " Luc's small brow furrowed for a moment, the image of Nicolette's unguarded and vulnerable moment, and all the pain relentlessly secreted behind those incomparable blue eyes. He was only a boy after all, but seeing a great deal more that others may never note was in his blood.
"I think she is sad. So sad, sometimes. No, she doesn't hate me at all. Mademoiselle Beauchamp is too busy hating herself." Luc's dark eyes turned upward to his aunt's face. "I bet your stories would make her happy. They make me happy."
The rogue ran her fingers lovingly over the lengths of the boys ebony ringlets, the light of genuine pride shining behind those thoughtful grey eyes. "Of course we can ask, Luc. Why, I bet Mademoiselle Beauchamp may even have a tale or two of her own to share as well if she wishes."
Antonia stood to her full height - though not nearly enough to get her gaze much past the shoulders of most the men. Still, she waved to the First Mate - her hand certainly got well over their heads at the least - and began to wind her way toward Nicolette, Luc at her side.
"Bon soir, Mademoiselle Beauchamp!" the rogue called to the First Mate, waving Nicolette closer still until they could hear one another without shouting. "Luc and I were going to find a quieter place to enjoy our allotted free moments sans les spiritueux obviously, and share a story or two. Adventure, myth, legend, tall tales and not a few outright lies on occasion, so long as they be harmless and all in good fun - those are our fare. If we light somewhere that you may yet keep a solid eye on this drink-sodden crew, would you care to join us?"
SO many lovely posts today I believe we have yet to hear from Derren and Dot though, for their final piece[s] as well. I cannot wait to see what they will be pulling together :)
I believe we have yet to hear from Derren and Dot though, for their final piece[s] as well. I cannot wait to see what they will be pulling together :)I love Connor. SO MANY FEELS, KURO! God, he makes me want to hug him!
Galina's face was stone, hard and impassive where her foolish heart had not been. She did not flinch when Souma leaned forward, glaring at her with something very like disgust in his face. She would not allow a moment of this time to escape her. Galina knew she needed the memory of Souma's face, the contempt he did nothing to hide, seared into her mind's eye.
Her dark eyes no more than cold chips of onyx, she watched Souma rise, her gaze never once falling away as he spoke. She listened intently to each of his words, every last one falling like a razor-sharp blades on what was left of her tender, aching soul.
She hoped they would scar, every last slice of those cruel blades. Galina must learn this lesson, and let the scars serve to remind her should she ever be tempted to such girlish, ridiculous foolishness again. She needed these scars. She needed to run the fingers of her mind over them, again and again, ugly and gnarled, and never forget the true price of naivete.
Galina took the cup of sake in her hand, downing the newly-filled contents of the drink with a swift, sure tilt of her head before setting it down on the tray once more. A slow, wide and magnificent smile slid across her features, a heartbreakingly beautiful sight that, unfortunately, never stood a chance of thawing the dangerous black ice of her eyes.
"I see. You are quite right, Takahiro Souma." Galina's voice had never been more spectacularly melodious, the grace and poise as she rose to her feet a lyrical feast for the eyes as she moved. "What you do not know about Russians is vast."
Slowly, sedately, she walked to the door and then looked over her shoulder to Souma. Still smiling, the perfect arch of one dark eyebrow rose expectantly as she nodded toward the presumably locked door. "But have no fear," Galina continued with an ironic bow very like she had seen Goemon give to her so many times at dinner, "I can certainly be as good a messenger as any you might employ. Word. For. Word."
"My father is a most reasonable man. I cannot imagine any other course, but he would take your message for a thoughtful notice, entirely in the spirit I am sure you intend."
Her dark eyes no more than cold chips of onyx, she watched Souma rise, her gaze never once falling away as he spoke. She listened intently to each of his words, every last one falling like a razor-sharp blades on what was left of her tender, aching soul.
She hoped they would scar, every last slice of those cruel blades. Galina must learn this lesson, and let the scars serve to remind her should she ever be tempted to such girlish, ridiculous foolishness again. She needed these scars. She needed to run the fingers of her mind over them, again and again, ugly and gnarled, and never forget the true price of naivete.
Galina took the cup of sake in her hand, downing the newly-filled contents of the drink with a swift, sure tilt of her head before setting it down on the tray once more. A slow, wide and magnificent smile slid across her features, a heartbreakingly beautiful sight that, unfortunately, never stood a chance of thawing the dangerous black ice of her eyes.
"I see. You are quite right, Takahiro Souma." Galina's voice had never been more spectacularly melodious, the grace and poise as she rose to her feet a lyrical feast for the eyes as she moved. "What you do not know about Russians is vast."
Slowly, sedately, she walked to the door and then looked over her shoulder to Souma. Still smiling, the perfect arch of one dark eyebrow rose expectantly as she nodded toward the presumably locked door. "But have no fear," Galina continued with an ironic bow very like she had seen Goemon give to her so many times at dinner, "I can certainly be as good a messenger as any you might employ. Word. For. Word."
"My father is a most reasonable man. I cannot imagine any other course, but he would take your message for a thoughtful notice, entirely in the spirit I am sure you intend."
© 2007-2025