I realize that according to my bio, it is Rémi’s birthday on Wednesday. I haven’t played with him much in terms of intereractions, but I still feel I should do something to celebrate it. Even though he sure as heck wouldn’t want me to. Any ideas? Prompt day? Special asks? Actually make some rp icons and start more threads? Draw a proper avatar? Have a special “Talk to young happy Rémi before he was Spy” day? Yeet him into a lake?
I just don’t know.
On the Write Track (closed for oldboyjensrps)
She lifted her drink and blew on the openeing go try and cool it before sipping. Thankfully just the right temperature.
“It does. A lot. Happen I mean.”
She raised an eyebrow, “No offense taken, but blame y’all expanding to be everywhere in the badlands at once. Buncha daily skirmishes with larger teams happening simultaneously all over the fuckin place where y’all are stationed and one me? Means long crazy daily routes then factor in special assignments and my cover job? It’s rough buddy. But I’m surviving. Glad you’re okay today. Is your “friend” from last time behaving or do I need to cut off his fancy brandy supply?”
Russell reached over to grab his own drink and his notepad from the table he had been sitting at.
He might as well sit at this one and give her some company. It might help her feel better.
“Ehe, that’s not really my choice to be honest, and I only work at Coldfront unless I’m temping elsewhere,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I’m sorry about that.”
Sympathy crawled across his face on hearing that.
“Maybe you can ask the admin to hire some people, so you like, form a team and have different paths to go,” he suggested, fidgeting, “If you ever want a hand and I’m not working as a Scout, I could like, take some of the stuff on your behalf, lighten the load a bit.”
He then nodded.
“Yeah, I haven’t seen him around lately, like, at all,” Russell said, “I don’t think you need to do that. I’ll keep you in mind though in case he does try anything else.”
“What? You mean you aren’t secretly the mastermind behind the 80 ish years of prolonged warfare throughout a large area of New Mexico?” She deadpanned then cracked a gentle smile, “I don’t blame you don’t worry. It honestly makes it kinda fun and challenging. I have to keep sharp- I got too soft getting used to the boys.”
“That’s a good suggestion, and I brought it up once but uh, the gopher hiring process is pretty extensive and grueling compared to bribing ex mobsters as grunts or something for temp work. The three and a half of us manage.”
“Oh geez you sweetheart- I would take you up on that except it opens some security risks and contract issues. Thanks for offering.”
At his last bit she frowned in surprise for a moment before grimacing, “Hoo oh boy I hope my hunch is wrong but probably not.
“Yeah” she leaned into the sidehug, still frowning, “Still sucked and sucks in effects. But” she gestured to the furby, “You at least can say that you’re a thousand levels above them in terms of skill and success- I think.”
Dell grinned at her “that’s for sure” he said nodding. He wasn’t normally one to toot his own horn, but now seemed a like an appropriate time “came in top of my class, have 11 hard science PhDs. Working at a job I love. I’ve got a good life.”
He held the furby in his hands and looked down at it “I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”
“11 PhDs is way more threatening than anything else I have ever heard about anyone. Most people break trying to do one. Make it through 11? You, sir, are the baddest most intimidating person alive. Or dead probably. Skeletons are pretty underwhelming.”
She blew a kiss to the furby, beaming like a maniac, “Oh you’ll have to tell me all about it. Because if anything can throw him off it’s gonna be this. Good luck Dell, I have to check in at base but I’ll be seeing you soon.”
On the Write Track (closed for oldboyjensrps)
“Thanks, it’s just been one of those days,” with his help she managed to make it to her chair and sit.
The cafe patrons had gone back to their conversations which she was pretty dang grateful for. She accepted the burn ointment with a thank you to the staff and began slathering it on.
“It’s not that bad don’t worry.”
She poked her face and winced.
“Probably. How’re you this fine… whatever time of day it is?”
“Yeah, I think we all get days like that, don’t worry about it,” he said, giving her a soft smile that he hoped seemed reassuring.
He went to the counter to go and get her coffee. He brought it over and set it onto the table for whenever she wanted it.
“I guess, still, it sucks when shit like that happens,” he said once he had put it down. He frowned in some sympathy.
“I’m doing okay this morning. Are you all right though? You, ehehe, not to, to, ehehe, sound insulting, you look like you’ve been put through the wringer a bit…”
She lifted her drink and blew on the openeing go try and cool it before sipping. Thankfully just the right temperature.
“It does. A lot. Happen I mean.”
She raised an eyebrow, “No offense taken, but blame y’all expanding to be everywhere in the badlands at once. Buncha daily skirmishes with larger teams happening simultaneously all over the fuckin place where y’all are stationed and one me? Means long crazy daily routes then factor in special assignments and my cover job? It’s rough buddy. But I’m surviving. Glad you’re okay today. Is your “friend” from last time behaving or do I need to cut off his fancy brandy supply?”
When Your 10th Class OC Is a Lady Support Healer
Expectation: Maternally loving emotional rock who takes care of the zany cast of lunatics with a sighing but fond exasperation
Reality: “I just consumed an entire family pack of doublestuff Oreos in one sitting and now my bees think my sweat is nectar and I’m hearing colors here is a spare medkit did you know some fish raise babies in their mouths there’s enemy turrets just north of here”
On the Write Track (closed for oldboyjensrps)
Facedown on the floor, Messenger manages to process Russell’s warning a bit too late. Ah. She had not waited soon enough.
“Just leave me here to die,” she groaned as she managed to push herself up into a sitting position. Her wrist hurt, and she flexed it, wincing. The sting from the coffee wasn’t great either.
Dramatics aside, she accepted Russell’s hand and shakily began to stand.
“Thank you bud. I shouullld be good on my feet- ow oof that’s a spicy sting.”
She grimaced and wiped her face on her sleeve.
“Oh come on, I can’t do that, ehehe… it’s okay…” Russell said. He waited for her to accept the offer and then helped her get back onto her feet.
“It’s okay, I’m glad to help,” he said, as he then looked towards one of the seats, the one she had been sitting in, “Let’s just get you back down here, all right? I’ll get of your drink, one of the ladies is getting some first aid stuff.”
“I know, I know it hurts… but it’ll be in a minute,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief as the staff member came over with the burn ointment. Another had already started to mop out the mess.
“Thanks, it’s just been one of those days,” with his help she managed to make it to her chair and sit.
The cafe patrons had gone back to their conversations which she was pretty dang grateful for. She accepted the burn ointment with a thank you to the staff and began slathering it on.
“It’s not that bad don’t worry.”
She poked her face and winced.
“Probably. How’re you this fine… whatever time of day it is?”
On the Write Track (closed for oldboyjensrps)
It took a few tries to open the cafe door since she kept pulling when it clearly said push. This would be why Messenger badly needed a coffee and some solid food.
Once inside, she stumbled to the counter, placed her order slumped into a chair to take off her riding goggles and finally catch her breath. It was colder up in this neck of the woods, especially riding in the open air, so she rubbed her hands together, glancing around absentmindedly. Her eyes landed on Russell and she lit up a bit before her social anxiety kicked in and she tried to pretend she didn’t exist. He might feel obligated to talk to her, and that would be disrupting his writing and just a dick move-
“Order for Megan?”
That was her today. Messenger stood up quickly, not realizing her leg was between the long strap of her messenger back and the back of the chair. The moment she tried to move forward, her leg caught against the strap, pulling the chair with it, startling Messenger and sending her stumbling, arms flailing to regain balance. She made the mistake of instinctively grabbing on to the the closest solid thing, which happened to be the arm of a man on his way out with a tray of coffees- of course pulling him off-balance and stumbling. Hot bean juice, caring nothing for lids, sloshed up and over both of them. The man yelled and yanked his arm violently from Messenger’s grasp, sending her crashing to the floor to be spattered with the last few splashes of coffee. This all happened in about 5 seconds.
Russell had been caught in writing the letter. He only noticed someone else coming when the door finally opened. Was that… oh it was; the lady who had come to deliver that letter to him the other day. As soon as their eyes met, he gave her a small smile and a wave in greeting.
He looked down again then, wondering what else to ask about or talk about. he decided to mention Abel and Aldous. She would love to hear more about them.
He gazed over at the counter and then saw the woman stand up. Megan, huh? That was her name. It was a nice name. He then saw the strap of her bag caught on the chair.
“Wait,” he started to say, but it was just too little too late, “Holy shit!”
He froze for those five seconds, his brain and body in disagreement on what to do but then he forced himself to get up when it was over. He stepped over. He was relieved to see one staff member already reaching into a first aid box to grab some burn cream.
“Hey, come on, we need to get you up,” he said, as he then offered a hand to Megan, “Can you stand? We’ll get you sat down, get some burn cream on you… it’s okay… accidents happen.”
He looked over to the man as well. He tried not to think about how mortified he would be if he had been the one in this situation.
“You okay too?” he asked, even though his focus was more on Megan. She was on the floor and seemed to be covered in more coffee,
Facedown on the floor, Messenger manages to process Russell’s warning a bit too late. Ah. She had not waited soon enough.
“Just leave me here to die,” she groaned as she managed to push herself up into a sitting position. Her wrist hurt, and she flexed it, wincing. The sting from the coffee wasn’t great either.
Dramatics aside, she accepted Russell’s hand and shakily began to stand.
“Thank you bud. I shouullld be good on my feet- ow oof that’s a spicy sting.”
She grimaced and wiped her face on her sleeve.
Mercsenger: Ugh I have the upper body strength of a crow
Heavy: Is not true
Mercsenger: aw th-
Heavy: Crow can lift more than you
Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.
No deleting questions, either!
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