Igraine Member
- Last Seen: 9 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Igraine
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- Igraine 11 yrs ago
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Monster tastes SO much better Heroes, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do!
That was a wonderful post Dot, hilarious - oh bless her Deli's awesome!
I have some studying to do tonight, but I'll probably have something up for Pauline tomorrow evening so bears and things can happen and such ;)
I have some studying to do tonight, but I'll probably have something up for Pauline tomorrow evening so bears and things can happen and such ;)
John Paul turned to the pilot with a nod as he moved back around the table to his own seat, and his hot cup of something vaguely coffee-like. He laughed and shook his head, words rolling off his tongue smoothly like cool water in a stream bed, laced with that thick Alabama drawl. "You as well Ray, you as well - been looking forward to the chance to talk, if LV-223 gives us a break. But whatever it is you've heard about me? Heh... Lies, all lies - unless it's good, in which case it's the unvarnished truth."
He chuckled softly, swiping Alice's booted feet off the table as he passed without missing a beat. "And of course He's with us, but I like to think God's brought us along for the ride, more like. We'll need Him here, there, wherever, rather like a good parent for those raised by wolves - or maybe just those brought up in the heathen wilds of Georgia, without a lick of sense 'bout how to act in polite company." Preacher glanced at Alice, one eyebrow cocked meaningfully as he settled back into his seat beside Lena.
He listened of course, as the conversations floated about him, waving back at Diego as the SO dismissed his smart ass comment with a wave of his own, winking conspiratorially at Sergeant Winters, and simply enjoying the buzz of human voices as he sipped his hot black coffee. Not even the conspicuously late and obnoxious arrival of Reddick could spoil the man's zen, mostly because his captain was more than up for the challenge of a pain in the ass civilian with way too much self-importance and not near enough know-how.
Preacher settled in with a contented sigh right about the time Lena hissed something to the Wey-Yu lackey he felt sure contained a fair amount of obscenity [if his lip reading skills were still up to snuff of course]. When she finally let that arrogant shit have it with both barrels at the end, he decided it was wiser to forego jumping out of his chair with a triumphant shout and an 'Amen sister,' and simply settled for a smug little grin in Reddick's direction.
He blew over the rim of his coffee, and took another sip. It was bad enough for morale, he mused, knowing a company bean counter was along for the ride, looking over their shoulders and ready to scrutinize every little fuck up. No one at this table, light years from home and family and people who loved them, needed to be reminded that the priority given to the lives of their predecessors - and by extension, their own - was about as low as the seventh circle of Hell on the their boss' list of important shit.
What an asshole.
John Paul did not ask any questions of his own, the XO standing to his feet and quietly making his way to the coffee dispenser, leaving the floor open to the rest of the crew to float Lena any queries they had left. His cup refreshed, Preacher leaned easily beside the doorway, ready to head to the bridge, help field a question or lend a hand where needed during mission prep.
He chuckled softly, swiping Alice's booted feet off the table as he passed without missing a beat. "And of course He's with us, but I like to think God's brought us along for the ride, more like. We'll need Him here, there, wherever, rather like a good parent for those raised by wolves - or maybe just those brought up in the heathen wilds of Georgia, without a lick of sense 'bout how to act in polite company." Preacher glanced at Alice, one eyebrow cocked meaningfully as he settled back into his seat beside Lena.
He listened of course, as the conversations floated about him, waving back at Diego as the SO dismissed his smart ass comment with a wave of his own, winking conspiratorially at Sergeant Winters, and simply enjoying the buzz of human voices as he sipped his hot black coffee. Not even the conspicuously late and obnoxious arrival of Reddick could spoil the man's zen, mostly because his captain was more than up for the challenge of a pain in the ass civilian with way too much self-importance and not near enough know-how.
Preacher settled in with a contented sigh right about the time Lena hissed something to the Wey-Yu lackey he felt sure contained a fair amount of obscenity [if his lip reading skills were still up to snuff of course]. When she finally let that arrogant shit have it with both barrels at the end, he decided it was wiser to forego jumping out of his chair with a triumphant shout and an 'Amen sister,' and simply settled for a smug little grin in Reddick's direction.
He blew over the rim of his coffee, and took another sip. It was bad enough for morale, he mused, knowing a company bean counter was along for the ride, looking over their shoulders and ready to scrutinize every little fuck up. No one at this table, light years from home and family and people who loved them, needed to be reminded that the priority given to the lives of their predecessors - and by extension, their own - was about as low as the seventh circle of Hell on the their boss' list of important shit.
What an asshole.
John Paul did not ask any questions of his own, the XO standing to his feet and quietly making his way to the coffee dispenser, leaving the floor open to the rest of the crew to float Lena any queries they had left. His cup refreshed, Preacher leaned easily beside the doorway, ready to head to the bridge, help field a question or lend a hand where needed during mission prep.
So many lovely posts today! I'm afraid I'm simply not going to be able to write tonight - too much studying this evening :( HOWEVER, there should be time for posting tomorrow evening, and so looking forward to it!
Galina nodded curtly, her smile unseen beneath the wide brim of her straw hat as she listened to Souma's instructions, biting her lip to keep the girlish laughter back when she heard the feral glee in his voice.
No, she had not been immediately pleased to discover the warehouse far busier than she originally anticipated. But as swiftly as the disappointment came, so too it went. There was never any sense dwelling where nothing could be changed and Galina was, if anything, quite sensible. Besides, if Souma wanted a layout? They needed to know how well guarded the supplies were, and how well watched? Hmph. Well it was just as easy to go unnoticed in plain sight because if one looked as if he belonged? Surely he must of course! After all, it was unthinkable that anyone not meant to be here (but perhaps the suicidal?) would traipse into a busy yakuza compound with evil intent.
High ground. They needed high ground and the young boy did not hesitate for a moment, with no more than a perfunctory "Hai" for his lame elder brother as he began to climb the bamboo shelving swiftly, hand over hand until he stood easily atop the highest platforms. Swiftly he maneuvered among the boxes and packages, moving purposefully as he inspected the various labels.
Easily he leapt between the aisles overhead until he finally at the central loading area, watching as the horse carts were loaded in the center for some long moments before he returned to his brother. The young boy shimmied down the shelving, leaping some feet above the ground to land lightly beside his brother. He leaned in easily, bowing deferentially, his voice low and soft as the pair discussed their own business, just another two workers lost in the nocturnal buzz of this yakuza hive.
"The main passages form a cross of sorts, about 30 yards in length with three separate cross bars each. There are four exits, but only two large enough for horse carts, which of course 'our share' will require."
"We've got eight armed guards carrying both pistols and blades: two at each exit. although there are at least four different 'administrators' who are maintaining an inventory of sorts at the central loading area. The lion's share of 'our share' is fortunately is located mainly in this wing: rifles, ammunition, and not a few good quality blades at that." Galina dared to peer up into Souma's face, her dark eyes glistening and bright with undeniable excitement.
"Though explosives are located in the next passage over, which I simply don't believe we can let slide by us," she added, a quick jerk of her head toward the right as her face dropped to the ground once more. "I mean, what kind of real fun could we possibly have without an explosion or two? Besides, I hear Americans are uncannily fond of things that go 'boom,' and I do so aim to please... " The young woman chuckled warmly, shrugging her slender shoulders.
"And so I leave it to your discretion and wisdom now Souma: would you prefer your exit this night quiet and serene, or do you aim to indulge that inner-American of yours, that Ai was forever telling me about, hmm?" Even if Souma could not see her face at the moment, the laughter in Galina's voice was unmistakable.
No, she had not been immediately pleased to discover the warehouse far busier than she originally anticipated. But as swiftly as the disappointment came, so too it went. There was never any sense dwelling where nothing could be changed and Galina was, if anything, quite sensible. Besides, if Souma wanted a layout? They needed to know how well guarded the supplies were, and how well watched? Hmph. Well it was just as easy to go unnoticed in plain sight because if one looked as if he belonged? Surely he must of course! After all, it was unthinkable that anyone not meant to be here (but perhaps the suicidal?) would traipse into a busy yakuza compound with evil intent.
High ground. They needed high ground and the young boy did not hesitate for a moment, with no more than a perfunctory "Hai" for his lame elder brother as he began to climb the bamboo shelving swiftly, hand over hand until he stood easily atop the highest platforms. Swiftly he maneuvered among the boxes and packages, moving purposefully as he inspected the various labels.
Easily he leapt between the aisles overhead until he finally at the central loading area, watching as the horse carts were loaded in the center for some long moments before he returned to his brother. The young boy shimmied down the shelving, leaping some feet above the ground to land lightly beside his brother. He leaned in easily, bowing deferentially, his voice low and soft as the pair discussed their own business, just another two workers lost in the nocturnal buzz of this yakuza hive.
"The main passages form a cross of sorts, about 30 yards in length with three separate cross bars each. There are four exits, but only two large enough for horse carts, which of course 'our share' will require."
"We've got eight armed guards carrying both pistols and blades: two at each exit. although there are at least four different 'administrators' who are maintaining an inventory of sorts at the central loading area. The lion's share of 'our share' is fortunately is located mainly in this wing: rifles, ammunition, and not a few good quality blades at that." Galina dared to peer up into Souma's face, her dark eyes glistening and bright with undeniable excitement.
"Though explosives are located in the next passage over, which I simply don't believe we can let slide by us," she added, a quick jerk of her head toward the right as her face dropped to the ground once more. "I mean, what kind of real fun could we possibly have without an explosion or two? Besides, I hear Americans are uncannily fond of things that go 'boom,' and I do so aim to please... " The young woman chuckled warmly, shrugging her slender shoulders.
"And so I leave it to your discretion and wisdom now Souma: would you prefer your exit this night quiet and serene, or do you aim to indulge that inner-American of yours, that Ai was forever telling me about, hmm?" Even if Souma could not see her face at the moment, the laughter in Galina's voice was unmistakable.
Sounds great Dot, and hopefully Road and I can give you at least a little something more fun to work with as well by then 
Have a good, safe trip back home I assume, and looking forward to hearing from you again hon!
Have a good, safe trip back home I assume, and looking forward to hearing from you again hon!Lovely post Wordsmith, that was a fun read! And no MusketMan, you didn't hold up anyone of course, as I'm sure you saw when you caught up on the reading. As Wordsmith said, Thanksgiving weekend means missing folks, so no biggy at all - welcome back to both of you ;)
It would be very nice to have Raymond put his two cents back into the RP Wordsmith, and so glad you had a wonderful Thanksgiving as well! I do not game anymore, but I do read, and yes, "The Picture of Dorian Gray" is certainly worth the time - though for classic horror? I still prefer Stoker's "Dracula."
I have no idea what that is, beyond absolutely adorable, Kuro! The little ones cannot have too many onesies - it's a fact! And they're so sweet to cuddle with too - good call there and you're being a great aunt, and I refuse to block the Target website for you :)There's no hurry Jiskastya, and a most happy Thanksgiving to you too! Relax, enjoy your weekend and finish your work, and catch up with you on the other side.
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