Okay, I'm internally cackling at all of the reactions to the tiger so far! I'm all caught up on the posts, but dangerously close to being late for work, so I'll check in when I get home tonight.
lady horatio
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Sorry I haven't been on in a few days, guys! I'm feeling sick, so going to retire, but will hopefully have time after work tomorrow.
8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 1 yr ago
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- lady horatio 9 yrs ago
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Tim the Yeti
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8 yrs ago
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Sorry I haven't been on in a few days, guys! I'm feeling sick, so going to retire, but will hopefully have time after work tomorrow.
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8 yrs ago
Plans for today: clean, reply to Guild messages, work on belated Christmas gift. Repeat. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon!
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8 yrs ago
Ah, 3a.m. We meet again. My sleep schedule's become really screwy, and it's messing with my ability to keep up with things. I promise I'm keeping a running tally of my PMs; responses may just be slow.
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8 yrs ago
Today's agenda: 30 minutes of cleaning, 20 minutes of crochet/reading/Guild time; repeat until either house looks less terrifying or it is dark outside.
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8 yrs ago
Yesterday, was dispirited because my interest check wasn't getting any hits. Today, bumped it and came back to three messages, TWO of them referencing The Princess Bride. [delighted cackling]
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Bio
This bio is a work-in-progress! For now, here are the basics:
- Marcie
- 29
- Hamlet fixation
- Lover of all things fantastic, supernatural, and just plain cool
- Sucker for character-driven stories
- Terrible at plot, but always happy to brainstorm
- And, most importantly: very friendly, so please say hi!
Most Recent Posts
Understood! And if Jill has to run out of there, will her bags, which are on the floor, disappear into the vines? Have they already been swallowed? (I'm fine either way, whether they disappear, disappear and then return after the supernatural phenomenon has passed, or don't disappear at all. Any would be an interesting story choice!)
"Well, hell," Jill snapped, "I've been better!"
She never had been one to do well under stress.
Still, she tried to take a deep breath and stave off what was fast heading toward a panic attack. Help was coming.
She didn't know what they were going to do against spontaneous vines and a possible tiger, but help was coming.
She never had been one to do well under stress.
Still, she tried to take a deep breath and stave off what was fast heading toward a panic attack. Help was coming.
She didn't know what they were going to do against spontaneous vines and a possible tiger, but help was coming.
Jill would like to object to the description of "screaming her head off."
I, on the other hand, started cackling at, "David's gonna do a stupid." And am delighted D may also enter the fray.
Look, people might start becoming friends! …Maybe.
I, on the other hand, started cackling at, "David's gonna do a stupid." And am delighted D may also enter the fray.
Look, people might start becoming friends! …Maybe.
"Ma'am?" Jill called, voice cracking. She wasn't even sure the woman outside the door could hear her, as there seemed to be a lot of yelling happening. She did hear the woman call for a key, and for a moment, she was painfully relieved.
Then the very room around her started to decay, and the door to the other stall banged open, and Jill couldn't help it: she screamed. It was a short, terrified thing that caught in her throat.
As vines curled up from the floor and crept down from the ceiling, blocking her from retreating any further, she huddled against the toilet, shaking.
If I disappear in a no-name town under supernatural circumstances, Bobby's gonna kill me, she thought.
There was silence, then more yelling, and near-silence again. And even though it went deeply against her nature to make a ruckus, to draw any sort of attention to herself, Jill called out—in a voice that was much higher than she would have liked—"Somebody help me!"
Then the very room around her started to decay, and the door to the other stall banged open, and Jill couldn't help it: she screamed. It was a short, terrified thing that caught in her throat.
As vines curled up from the floor and crept down from the ceiling, blocking her from retreating any further, she huddled against the toilet, shaking.
If I disappear in a no-name town under supernatural circumstances, Bobby's gonna kill me, she thought.
There was silence, then more yelling, and near-silence again. And even though it went deeply against her nature to make a ruckus, to draw any sort of attention to herself, Jill called out—in a voice that was much higher than she would have liked—"Somebody help me!"
Hey, all! I'm heading to work soon but will put Jill's next post up when I get home tonight! Should be home by about 8:30 EST.
Sorry for the delay, but collab post is now officially up, and Mokes says a mod post is on the way!
Standing, half-dressed, in the larger of the two bathroom stalls, Jill froze.
She'd just been fishing a clean t-shirt—one without a huge coffee stain down the front—out of her duffle bag when the door slammed open. Just as swiftly, she heard it slam shut again, followed by the distinctive click of a lock.
There was a quick scuffle of footsteps toward the smaller stall and a final bang-click.
Then nothing.
Jill scooped up a plain black tee and tugged it over her head. As she slid her arms back into the sleeves of a worn flannel shirt, she glanced toward the other stall. "Hey," she said, hesitant to embarrass someone who might be in the midst of a personal emergency, but concerned by the silence. "Are you okay?"
For a few moments there was only silence in the locked stall.
Then came a low, rumbling sound -- either a growl or a purr, it was hard to tell, but certainly it wasn't a sound that any little girl (or human) could make.
Jill froze a second time. She didn't know what was stranger: the idea that the person in the next stall might be growling at her, or the idea that that person might be playing some kind of recording, which seemed more likely.
...Or the idea that neither of those things might be true.
"The hell," she murmured, unable to stop herself. She slid back, just a little, and glanced downward, where she should have been able to see a pair of feet in the other stall.
She saw feet, all right. Or, more accurately: paws.
"Hell!"
Without even thinking about it, she scrambled on top of the toilet, bracing her hands against the walls. Shoulders hunched, she tried to slow her breathing, wondering what the odds were for her reaching the locked door before whatever—or whoever; because this had to be someone in a costume, right?—was in the next stall got to her.
This had to be a prank. It had to. And yet, she couldn't make herself move—or take her eyes off of the very-real-looking tiger paws that seemed to belong to the bathroom's other occupant.
She'd just been fishing a clean t-shirt—one without a huge coffee stain down the front—out of her duffle bag when the door slammed open. Just as swiftly, she heard it slam shut again, followed by the distinctive click of a lock.
There was a quick scuffle of footsteps toward the smaller stall and a final bang-click.
Then nothing.
Jill scooped up a plain black tee and tugged it over her head. As she slid her arms back into the sleeves of a worn flannel shirt, she glanced toward the other stall. "Hey," she said, hesitant to embarrass someone who might be in the midst of a personal emergency, but concerned by the silence. "Are you okay?"
For a few moments there was only silence in the locked stall.
Then came a low, rumbling sound -- either a growl or a purr, it was hard to tell, but certainly it wasn't a sound that any little girl (or human) could make.
Jill froze a second time. She didn't know what was stranger: the idea that the person in the next stall might be growling at her, or the idea that that person might be playing some kind of recording, which seemed more likely.
...Or the idea that neither of those things might be true.
"The hell," she murmured, unable to stop herself. She slid back, just a little, and glanced downward, where she should have been able to see a pair of feet in the other stall.
She saw feet, all right. Or, more accurately: paws.
"Hell!"
Without even thinking about it, she scrambled on top of the toilet, bracing her hands against the walls. Shoulders hunched, she tried to slow her breathing, wondering what the odds were for her reaching the locked door before whatever—or whoever; because this had to be someone in a costume, right?—was in the next stall got to her.
This had to be a prank. It had to. And yet, she couldn't make herself move—or take her eyes off of the very-real-looking tiger paws that seemed to belong to the bathroom's other occupant.
Fine! Sorry, the slowness has been my fault. Mokely and I were doing a collab post, but I was absent for a few days, dealing with some stuff here at home. I just sent my next part of the collab on, and I think a mod post is coming next.
@Mokley Thanks! It's super late, so I'll draft a post or shoot you a message tomorrow!
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