fandomtownies | Entries tagged with delphine angua von überwald

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua had considered sticking around a little bit longer, until at least evening to go to the bar and order just one Coors Lite before she left, but it was just much easier to catch an early portal, and everything was packed and ready to go already and so she'd just have too much time on her hands before she was expected at the Causeway. Even now, she still had a little more time, but it was just enough time, she figured, to sit and have a cup of coffee that actually tasted good before that, like so many other things about the island, would be come just a fond memory.

With everyone occupied with their Valentine's Day stuff, too, it was nice and quiet so she could sit and reflect on going back. There was a small kick in her stomach when she thought about it as going back, because everyone knew, wolves didn't look back.

But that was the thing. She was looking forward.

[[ open for all your coffee needs! This will be my last Angua post, too; she's gone after this, but it's been a great run and thanks to everyone who made her time here awesome! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

"Did you find them, then?"

Ralph had found the paperwork Angua had requested, but he seemed to hesitate before handing over the manilla folder. Angua fixed a warning eye on him as she took it from him. "Don't give me that look," she told him. "You knew I'd be asking for these eventually."

At least, though, she knew that filling out the paperwork for her transfer back to the Ankh-Morpork City Watch would be significantly less complicated than the paperwork she'd gotten accustomed to here with the Fandom Troopers.

Or, at least, it would be, if she wasn't interrupted by Ralph's constant frowns of disapproval. She knew they were there, even with the helmet. "Don't worry," she assured him. "As soon as I have this done, I promise, I'll make sure I'll gripe at you enough today to hold you over until my replacement comes in."

That, at least, seemed to satisfy him for the time being."

[[ open station is open! ]]

bluth-illusions.livejournal.com

A sign was posted at the front door:
G.O.B. Bluth Presents:
The Tenth Anniversary Edition of
Three Minute Dates at Caritas
hosted by A Matchmaker Named G.O.B.

Just before 6:00, the lights went dark and a sole zombie walked out onto the stage and sat down at a piano. The zombie then started playing The Final Countdown, followed by the other zombies, all with violins to join in. And then GOB walked out onto the stage, holding and petting a lovebird. He then released the bird, which flew up toward the ceiling before somehow getting stuck in an air duct.

As GOB went into his spiel about how 3MD was a Fandom institution that he started and how he had brought so much love to Fandom with it and that the tenth annual (he still hadn't figured that part out) edition demanded the respect that a piano and not doing magic ("Unless any of the legal ladies out there want to see me make another lovebird appear," and yes, he was talking about his penis).

Meanwhile, the lovebird was still stuck in the air duct. As air rushed past the bird and into the lounge, some strange pheromones released by the bird were thrown back at the stage, where it reacted with the already strange combination of zombie smell and cologne used to hide the zombie smell on such a classy occasion, somehow generating a powerful love potion that would be making its way into the lounge, affecting people at random for three minutes at a time. Bizarrely, that was exactly how long each of the dates tonight would be.

Sometimes Fandom worked in mysterious ways. Mysteriously sexy ways.

"I call your names, you meet up with each other, talk for three minutes, and then you'll hear the sound of a zombie smashing his hands against a bunch of piano keys. Go ahead and do it," GOB said. The zombie started smashing the keys randomly. One of the other zombies joined in because a band was all about teamwork. "And that's how we start!"

[The Bar Before the Dates | Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3 | Round 4 | Round 5 | OOC]
[Regular post-dates Caritas post]

[OOC: Lots of OCD ~~coming~~ IS UP. RANDOMLY ASSIGNED LOVE POTION IS MARKED IN THREAD TITLES WITH ONE OF THESE "*" AFTER THE AFFECTED PERSON'S NAME! For example: "Nick* / 3MD Participants" means that I will spend the next three minutes loving everyone who signed up. But not in a dirty way because that would be exhausting and I have a sister among the participants and eww.

Remember that you can also choose to be affected by love potion in any round(s) at your discretion. Also, the love potion can only affect people in the lounge during the dates. People at the bar and on the stage will not be affected. People who are affected will just be incredibly drawn to their date, flirt harder, maybe go for some physical contact more quickly, but they shouldn't necessarily go straight for making out. Unless you choose to have them go for it. The upper limit is player's choice.

As I'm going along, if I made an obvious mistake, like skipping a character completely for a round or posting a pairing twice, feel free to grab me on AIM or in the OOC thread and I'll make a quick fix. And remember, attacks on your dates will get you teleported elsewhere on the island.

Also remember that most playing should happen on Saturday, but if you need to finish a thread or two on Sunday, that's fine.

GO FORTH AND PLAY!]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua watched with concern as Ralph and a few of the other troopers went about putting up chains of shiny paper hearts around the ceiling and the desks and the coffee maker around the station.

"I want to ask what that's all about," she eventually admitted, "but, at the same time, I know I don't want to ask..."

It was at that time that her Gooseberry started to blingy-blingy-boop on her desk, making her jump slightly where she sat. "Good gods," she said, "I thought you were dead."

But it wasn't, and the Gooseberry imp went on to volunteer the information to Insert-Name-Here about Valentine's Day and that was most likely the reason for the decorations going up around the station. Through the description, Angua was definitely frowning.

"It's not even February yet! There's still two weeks!"

It didn't seem to matter, though; they were getting into the Valentine's day mood, and Angua shook her head. "At least it's not as bad as that whole Christmas starting in October business."

She really couldn't wait to get back to Anhk-Morpork where people didn't give a rat's bum about most holidays.

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Coming out of the sway of the full moon, Angua was quite fine with spending a day in the trooper station doing little more than trying to put a dent in the ever present pile of paperwork that waited for her on Mondays.

Ralph had other ideas.

"No," Angua sighed, handing the folder back, "I don't think Mister Vimes would approve using some of the extra budget money on upgrading the uniforms to contain more bling. That's just my opinion, though, Ralph, you're welcome to propose the idea to him yourself. I could be wrong."

Said in the voice to remind Ralph that when she said she could be wrong, what she meant was fat chance. She went back to her paperwork until the next interruption of when Ralph had another idea for budget funds.

[[ open station is open! ]]

solo_sword

When Jaina came in to work today, she found Tino sitting in the back room, drinking straight from one of the bottles he'd taken from behind the bar. "That kinda day?" she guessed.

He just glared, so Jaina went back to the bar, figuring it'd be a more fun work shift if she just left him there.

Current Mood: decent

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It still confused Angua how a week when the actually did have detainees in the cells produced less paperwork than the weeks when nothing happened at all.

"You do realize," Angua warned Ralph as she looked at her actually somewhat light In-Box, "that this only give me more evidence that you make half that paperwork up, right?"

Ralph just grinned. Sure, Angua couldn't see that he was smirking, but she could sure as hell smell it.

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua was finally back after a long, long, long holiday in Ankh-Morpork, and she wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

Of course, that had more to do with the impressive mountain of paperwork that had piled up on her desk in her absence than anything else, though the noteable increase of vampire stench to the place was a contributing factor as well.

"Honestly," she informed Ralph, "I seriously doubt this much happened while I was gone."

Still, she settled in to start putting a dent in the mountain, though it was more like taking a cup of water out of the ocean, and she stumbled across the real reason for all the paperwork.

"Ralph, is this a novel? You know, if you wanted me to read it, you could have just asked, right?"

But for now, she was just going to set it aside for later. She figured she'd be needing a good laugh in about an hour or two.

[[ open station is open! She lives! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua was busy; Angua had a lot of coffee and a lot of paperwork.

But Angua was not complaining. She didn't even feel like complaining. In fact, she couldn't complain.

There had actually been things to do last week, which reminded her how much she actually enjoyed doing things, especially Watch things. Watch things rarely produced as much paperwork, of course, but she would gladly do it for having a week like last week where things were actually occurring.

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Considering she'd taken the whole week off, Angua was not at all surprised to find that Ralph had left for her a stack of paperwork almost as tall as herself.

She was surprised, however, by some of the content of the paperwork, which, really, she shouldn't have been.

"Ralph, we are not taking a case from a turkey," she stated firmly. "How did it even sign this? It can't even hold a pen; I think there's something else going on here. I mean, filing a complaint that the Thanksgiving holiday killed your brother...that's like a cat filing a complaint against a dog for disliking it." Or a vampire complaining against a werewolf..ahem.

"You," she concluded, flipping the paper over and going to the next, "have too much time on your hands."

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It was amazing, Angua thought, how one long weekend back in Ankh-Morpork could make a person really appreciate returning to a place where coffee tasted like actual coffee and not mud.

Needless to say, the coffee shop was one of the first places Angua hit up once she got back from her trip which, at least this time, actually went according to plan. As she stirred in a little bit of cream and glanced out the window by her table out at the quiet streets of the village, she wondered if she was getting faintly spoiled and a little too content in this place, which was just ironic and stupid, because didn't she come here because she was feeling faintly spoiled and a little too content there?

She supposed, in a way, it was a good thing she felt this way, because she could reason with herself that it was just proof that she wasn't getting comfortable with the idea of just settling in like a good dog.

[[ open coffee shop is open for all your coffee shop needs! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

There was, of course, still a rather potent scent of residual sexipades in the air when Angua returned to the island, but she could tell that, finally, everything had cleared enough to the point where it was no longer dangerous or any more annoying than usual.

She'd spent most of her week as a wolf, considering that was just easier and better for avoiding that awful pollen, so it felt good to be in human skin again, despite the creeping feeling up her spine that she needed a b-- she needs a ba-- a B.A.T.H. She was pretty sure that mostly had to do with what she could still smell coming off of Ralph.

Thankfully, she had a week's worth of paperwork piles up, so there was plenty to keep her distracted and occupied.

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

By now, Angua should really know that coming in to help with some extra work on Friday was something she had to stop doing. But it was just one of those things she didn't think about until it was too late. It started when, sitting at her desk, she started to feel strange, a bit like a craving, an urge, which sent a concerned look toward the calendar. No. She was right; it wasn't that sort of urge, it wasn't even the right time of the month, and she was so meticulous about keeping track of it that she wouldn't have slipped up.

But then her eyes lifted as she swore she heard music starting to well up. The sense of dread was increased as she realized that there was a sort of distorted song coming from some of the troopers, S.O.S. she's in disguise. S.O.S. she's in disguise. There's a she wolf in disguise...

Angua's eyes widened as it struck her what was happening. Here, she thought shapeshifting was bad, but this...

"Coming out, coming out, coming out..."

"Oh, no," Angua moaned.

( Oh, yes. )

On the abrupt end of the unexpected and completely not safe for work song and dance, Angua was back at her desk, arms behind her to support the sultry pose with her blonde hair tousled all about, and she stared. Staaaaared.

Then she straightened herself up, smoothed out her uniform and brushed her hair back behind her ears, and cleared her throat. "Okay, then," she stated stoutly. "Back to work. Ralph, these papers will need to be reorganized, if you don't mind. Thank you."

Angua was going to sit back behind her now cleared desk, wait for a pile of papers to return, and pretend that didn't just happen.

[[ open station is open but up for a bit of SP. But, let's face it, it had to be done ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua was trying her best to keep an I told you so demeanor away from her grin today, but it was incredibly difficult with the few troopers that would pass by her desk and groan at the bowl of leftover Halloween candy on top of it.

It wasn't her fault they'd eaten too much themselves. Especially since she didn't even know how they'd eat it considering they never took off their helmets.

That was one mystery she was alright with being unsolved, though.

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It had been a quiet weekend of hunting far from the island for Angua, which left her feeling a little better as the full moon waned and she had a stretch of time without having to worry about it in front of her.

And though there was no lack of paperwork to be had, Angua was spending most of the time looking at some scheduling and trying to consider when might be a good place to try that trip back home again. There had to be something...

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua knew it would be wishful thinking and blind optimism to think she'd be better in the morning, but that didn't stop her from hoping and feeling a stab of disappointment at still being male. At least, though, she figured, when she did turn back to normal, she'd actually feel less hairy for a change, because grooming right now was even more time-consuming that during the full moon.

Gods, let this be over before the full moon...

She contemplated calling in; Vimes would understand. But that felt too much like accepting this as a thing and she didn't want that and what would she do all day, anyway? It wasn't that different and, sure, she'd be without her armour because it didn't exactly fit her right, and it would be just another day.

Of course, those were all thoughts Angua had before coming in and seeing the troopers.

"That doesn't even look effective! What, you want we should go add some poles to training area, too?"

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Well. There had been a mix up in portals that left her spending her week in Vail with the rest of the faculty and students instead of the expected trip back home, and, as a result, Angua wound up coming back the wrong gender, as had several of the other faculty and students. It made one think that, if she'd managed to get to Ankh-Morpork, she'd still have her curves and lumps in all the proper places.

However, she knew there was nothing she could do to change it, so she decided to just head out, enjoy a coffee, and then wait for tomorrow, when she'd hopefully wake up and be back to normal again.

[[ open for all your caffeinated needs! ]]

justhisblogger.livejournal.com

It had taken John a spot of time to get on his feet on the island, but ordering in some tea at the local coffee shop seemed like a good idea to signify an honest-to-god start to life here. Mind, the island would never be able to make up for its fatal flaw - ie, not being London - but invasions aside, it could be much worse.

Or so John's train of thought went, as he settled down at a table with his hot coffee and a smile on his face. (The smile had wobbled a bit when the barista had ignored his compliment towards her coffee-making abilities, but one minor rejection wouldn't ruin a day.)

So there he sat, sipping his coffee, his phone on the table just in case of any last-minute desperate texts. He was starting to consider turning that off and enjoying his early morning, actually.

[[ open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It was rare that, still held by the sway of the moon as it began to wane, Angua would come into the station after a weekend of hunting and be in a good mood. However, that seemed to be exactly what the case was today.

After all, getting out of Fandom the moment her class was over was a great way to forget that her birthday had been on Friday. And still, while she managed to push it aside thanks to having the mind of a creature who did not consider such piddling little things, someone else hadn't forgotten the auspicious day and she'd returned to her apartment Sunday afternoon to find a little package from Ankh-Morpork, with a meticulously written letter with carefully but still somewhat erroneously placed grammar, with a bottle of her favourite flea shampoo, the one that smelled only faintly of lavender, as well as a box of scones from Carrot's favourite dwarf bakery.

Needless to say, the scones were utterly inedible. Which was why everyone at the station was being given a lovely new paperweight for their desks.

[[ open station is open!~ ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Ralph was standing in front of Angua's desk, one leg lifted with his food against his knee. One arm was lifted over his head at a 45 degree angle, and the other was bent so he could touch is nose with his finger.

Angua, meanwhile, was sitting at her desk, looking at Ralph with deep concentration in her narrowed eyes. "Hm, not quite," she said after a moment of concentration. "Try your other arm a little lower, parallel to the floor....no, that's not it, either. Put the finger in your ear and the free hand on your hips."

Ralph got about halfway through the switch before he paused, put his other food on the ground, and both fists on his hip.

Angua grinned. "Okay, yeah, you got me; this has nothing to do with anything. You're getting better! Only half an hour until you figured that one out."

High five!

[[ I don't even. Open station, open post! ]]

bluth-illusions.livejournal.com

There was a sign posted at the front door:

G.O.B. Bluth Presents:
The Ninth Annual
Three Minute Dates @ Caritas
hosted by A Matchmaker Named G.O.B.

GOB had somehow been able to count to nine despite not being around for the previous six Three Minute Dates, but he still didn't know what 'annual' really meant. But that wasn't important. The important thing was that at 6:00 precisely, the ligts went out and the Zombie Band started playing a familiar intro.

A burst of smoke hit the stage and the matchmaker named GOB stepped through it to make his grand entrance. A flick of each wrist and he was holding a deck of cards in each hand: all hearts. Except for a single four of clubs. GOB started moonwalking backwards, except he wasn't very good at it so it was more like walking backward with a limp. He clapped his hands together and from the cards ~~fell~~ burst forth a ~~dead~~ live dove, which ~~GOB picked up and threw off the stage toward the bar~~ swooped over the audience and ~~hit Tino after bouncing off the bar~~ attacked Tino.

"WELCOME TO CARITAS!" GOB yelled to the crowd as the music continued. "WELCOME! TO THREE MINUTE DATES!" He turned around and pointed to the back of the stage where a too-large banner dropped, showing the top half of 'THREE MINUTE DATES' while the rest was still rolled up on the stage floor. "I am GOB, your Once and Future Matchmaker. Here are the rules: I call your name and the name of somebody else. You two get together and make goo goo eyes at each other for a few minutes, and then I make a fireball appear to let you know it's time for the next round."

Tino had checked the fireball launcher GOB kept in his sleeve. Twice. It was as safe as it could possibly be.

"After the roaring sound of magical fire, I'll call out some more names and we do it again until we've done it five times. And if you don't like any of your dates, let me know and we can do it five more times in my hotel room." GOB could be as subtle as a bar on fire, something which Tino really wanted to avoid. Now let's get on with this stuff." As GOB started to reach for his notecards with the round one pairings, a quick burst of flame shot across his chest. "Huh. Shot off a little early. But I won't, ladies." Very subtle.

[Post 1 | The Bar Before the Dates | Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3 | OOC]
[Post 2 | Round 4 | Round 5 | OOC]
[Regular Caritas post]

[OOC: Three minutes = ten comments total, five per person. You don't need to do your threads chronologically, but try not to Joss yourself.

~~Epic OCD is beginning. For the love of god, please wait until I'm done.~~ GO FORTH AND PLAY! If I made a blatant mistake, like skipping a character completely for a round or posting a pairing twice or accidentally making incest happen WHICH TOTALLY DID NOT NEARLY HAPPEN, AHEM, feel free to grab me on AIM or in the OOC thread and I'll make a quick fix. Remember, attacks on your dates will get you teleported elsewhere on the island.

Also remember that most playing should happen on Saturday, but if you need to finish a thread or two on Sunday, that's fine.

And, um, yes, this is Post 1 of 2. RECORD SETTING SIGN UPS CAUSED THIS!]

solo_sword

Hard to believe only nine minutes had passed since this all started, huh? The daters were still dating, hopefully no one had been transported outside due to trying to attack anyone they had to deal with for three minutes, and all they had to do was survive two more rounds before they could hit the bar.

Happy dating!

[Post 1 | The Bar Before the Dates | Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3 | OOC]
[Post 2 | Round 4 | Round 5 | OOC]
[Regular Caritas post to follow!]

[OOC: Three minutes = ten comments total, five per person. You don't need to do your threads chronologically, but try not to Joss yourself.

Epic OCD ~~continues! If you ping in before I finish I will come over there and beat you till you cry after giving you an atomic wedgie.~~ is done! Ping away! If there are any problems... um, grab Nick on AIM, I just do what he tells me. :D

Also remember that most playing should happen on Saturday, but if you need to finish a thread or two on Sunday, that's fine.]

Current Mood: dates!

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua was being...careful. Very careful.

There was, of course, the usual stacks of paperwork waiting for her at her desk, but she was being incredibly delicate with them as she processed them and sent them from one box to the other. There weren't nearly enough there this morning to bury her again, but one could never tell. She just knew that she wanted to avoid a repeat of last week's incident at all costs.

So we had a very dainty Angua today, which meant a very preoccupied one, since dainty did not exactly come natural to her at all.

[[ open station is open ]]

laceycantlie.livejournal.com

Lacey had been nattering on to the staff for a while now about a hundred little initiatives they could all take to be more environmentally conscious around the diner: CFL lightbulbs, more ecofriendly soaps and cleaning supplies, installing timers on the lighting, being careful about how often they opened the fridge, yadda yadda yadda.

She'd ordered the soaps and cleaning supplies over the weekend, come in this morning with a bag of CFL lightbulbs to tackle the kitchen and supply room lighting installations, and -- discovered that the walls had somehow sprouted wall planters of spinach and broccoli overnight.

"Boy, when I said I wanted to go green, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Today's Specials
Cobb Salad (with or without bacon)
Spinach and Mushroom Omelette
Penne with Hazelnut Gremolata and Roasted Broccoli

NOW HIRING - SEE MANAGER FOR DETAILS

Luke's is not a greenhouse, but it's open.

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

The stacks of paperwork in the station shifted; it was a faint shift, a subtle shift, as if a window had been opened to a breeze. And then--

A hand shot out from the top, reaching for the empty air above it before curving down to hold on tight. It pulled and another hand joined it, soon followed by a blonde head that gasped for air that wasn't filled with meaningless forms. Once free from the paperwork that had buried her, Angua slumped slightly, resting before extricating herself entirely. She flicked a Post-It away from her ear.

"I hate this place."

She looked around the office a little and realized that she may have been in that paperwork for longer than she'd first suspected. She sniffed, tentatively.

"Friday?" she realized. "I've been in there since Wednesday!"

She grunted as she continued trying to climb out. "I really hate this place sometime..."

But, on the bright side, at least she didn't have to teach that week?

[[ establishing her lack of posting due to my computer fail yesterday, which I still feel bad about, but station is definitely open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua, feeling better and even a little personable with the waning of the moon, settled in for another boring day of deskwork at the station, so she didn't think much of the folder Ralph had handed her.

Until she looked at it. Her jaw tightened.

"Ralph," she said, "what is this?"

He only shrugged, and Angua opened the folder. "This is a joke, right?"

Sadly, Ralph shook his head. Angua looked at the second page. "You cannot be serious."

And then Ralph looked apologetic*, and Angua could only let out a long, disparaging groan. How was this even possible? She had certainly not signed up for this. She would not sign up for something like this. She was not a teacher, she was a bloody werewolf. But there it was, syllabus and everything, and she couldn't help but wonder if somehow, Carrot was involved, but she knew better than that. Carrot would at least tell her.

And look at that, they even bloody picked out a TA for her. "Maladicta," she muttered the name with distaste. "Why does that sound so familia--?"

Frowning, Angua pulled out her Gooseberry and bravely sat through his annoying entreaties to help before simply asking it to go write a note to Carrot and see if he'd know. The message came back quickly, and very simply:

"Borogravia, in their most recent war with Zlobenia, Lance Corporal of the Tenth Foot. Is everything okay?"

...

"Oh, bloody hell!"

No, it most certainly was not okay.

___
* Okay, Ralph smelled apologetic.

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua did not want to be here today. Angua did not want to be anywhere today, most of anywhere where she was expected to do work. Not that there was much of that going on. Angua was just had her head on her desk most of the the time, or threatening to bust her squeaky toy from squeezing it so hard, or staring off into nothing and ruminating on whether or not the troopers all tasted the same or if they had subtle differences, like they had subtle differences in scents.

It was going to be a long day.

[[ open station is open! I might be traveling today, though, so I might be SP, but I might not. WHO KNOWS IT'S A MYSTERY ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It wasn't exactly here yet, but Angua knew the next few days would be a great big ball of fun for her and she was trying not to go over in her head how, lately, it felt that the full moon fell right around when she had to be at the station. She was basically curled up around a cup of coffee at a table at the coffee shop, trying to keep up with the not thinking of anything, except perhaps where might be a good time to spend at least tomorrow. Out in the wilderness, away from mostly anything except maybe a few farmers.

So she was also doing some budgeting, scribbling on a piece of paper how much cash she had to work out how many chickens she could afford to...purchase without asking as well.

[[ open coffee shop is indeed open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Well, Angua certainly hoped someone out there was proud of her, as she was not going to the bar today. The temptation was certainly great; she might have to talk to Cally about a little bug problem she'd just noticed. Bugs themselves weren't that big of a deal for her; so long as they didn't carry fleas with them, she could handle them as long as she could suppress an urge to munch on them, but these bugs were...special. She didn't even know what to call that noise they were making and they even smelled of cheesy ballads.

So she did know she needed to get out of her apartment for a little bit. But the decision to go for a little stroll in the park, she figured, was probably much more positive than the bar again. It was starting to become a habit she really had no interest in really keeping.

But it didn't take her long before she was regretting the walk, too, and thinking that what she really needed to cool down in this weather was a nice, cold Anything-But-Coors-Lite.

[[ open park is open, naturally! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua was trying not to breathe. Every time she did, she couldn't help but notice the residual evidence of the void that had taken the station, because it was simply a matter of fact that the colours you couldn't smell were always worse than the ones you could. And while nothing substantial seemed missing (the coffee, thank the gods, was perfect fine), there was still a certain...voidness, that she wondered if anyone else could pick up or if it was just her clever nose.

Of course, that voidness was forgotten every single time she heard the all too familiar whump of Ralph dropping a folder of paperwork in her inbox. Every time he did it, she met it with an arched eyebrow and a cool look. He could only shrug, and Angua was left wondering why the paperwork couldn't have just stayed disappeared...

[[ open station is open, of course! ]]

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

Hannibal wasn't doing much tonight. Tino had been sullenly quiet, muttering something about the zombies playing some practical joke on him that involved a personal ad and being stood up on a date and Hannibal just didn't want to hear it.

So, Hannibal was just going to kick back and partake of the free liquor. Nothing weird, nothing fancy, nothing but a teenager thinking about crap while he had some rum. It was a good job, this one.

Current Mood: relaxed

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

Hannibal wasn't playing any stupid games tonight. For one, he couldn't think of anything stupid to play and for two, he was actually trying to be productive. His laptop was open on the bar in front of him and he was perusing through various job ads, marking ones to apply for but not going so far as applying.

Some of the jobs looked interesting but were far away and some were boring and kept him close. Hannibal was suffering from a lack of not knowing what the hell he wanted to do with his life. Tino wasn't offering help though Hannibal did think him the perfect candidate for the gravedigger opening.

Tino wasn't amused.

Current Mood: busy

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua did not want to be here today. She did not want to be anywhere today, unless that anywhere involved a lot of open space, maybe some trees and craggy rocks, but mostly fast little delicious critters that she could chase, as well as a lot of fur and a lot of teeth and a particular lack of opposable thumbs. She did not want to work on filing reports or other ridiculous papers because it was all irrelevant and the only thing she'd be good for today was going to be shredding things. That, however, would be done with great eagerness and enjoyment and alacrity, although it tended to make a little bit of a mess.

So Angua was just going to cradle her head in her hands, stare at her desk, and just wait for the day to be over.

Stupid full moons.

But at least her steak was back to being plastic and in a meat shape that she wouldn't feel so guilty about putting in her mouth...

[[ open station is open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Gods, it was hot and Angua was feeling incredibly miserable and particularly hairy and awkward because of the threat of the full moon in a few days. It was hardly the sort of disposition that made you want to squeeze into a swimsuit, but here she was, anyway, sitting on the beach and baking in the sun because it was still fifty million times better than sticking around in an apartment with her squeaky toy.

Attractive as he was, he had a ridiculous, annoying amount of energy, plus he squeaked whenever he moved, and so, this way, he could run around on the beach, being beautiful to watch while the sound of the waves drowned out his incessant sound effects.

And they had a pretty good deal. He'd run off and get her something to drink or an umbrella or anything else she might want for just a little squeeze. But she had to break it to him that he was going to be disappointed if he expected any chewing or gnawing anytime soon if he planned on staying like that. He was disappointed, but it was amazing how easily a squeaky toy could get over things.

Angua sighed, closed her eyes, soaked up the sun and just willed the next few days to just be over when she opened them again.

[[ open beach is open! ]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

When Vimes woke up this morning, he had been certain of a few things. First of all being that Fandom would in some way manage to make him want to have a drink.

Second, Ralph needed to make more coffee for such an occurrence.

Third... there was bald man with the number 177 on his shirt, standing about in his office. It had only gone down hill from there. As one might expect from finding such a thing.

After an argument or five, he was allowing his supposed 'badge' to stay in the office and lurk as he looked over the dreaded paperwork. It seemed fond of lurking even though the lighting wasn't right for a proper one.

It was going to be an interesting weekend.

[[Ohhh so open]]

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

There were no Hot Pockets in Caritas tonight. Tino's stomach was rejoicing. Hannibal, for some reason, was blindfolded and drinking out of an assortment of shot glasses he'd situated in front of him. If you asked him, he was playing Name That Liquor but it was a good, quick way to getting drunk too.

He'd guessed about half the liquors right and was still going. It didn't take much to entertain him.

Current Mood: gettin' drunk

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

There was an offering of coffee from the Perk and delicious donuts from J,GoB on the coffee station today. They were from Angua and there wasn't even any indication of foul play. They were, in fact, a thank you, to Ralph, of all people.

Because, earlier, when Angua first came in for her desk shift today, she founded a neat little folder waiting for her, and, opening it, she couldn't help barking out a laugh.

He'd actually found them. The forms required for reporting missing cookware.

She didn't even care if he just completely made them up. It deserved donuts.

[[ open station is open! with donuts! ]]

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

Hannibal was experimenting. He'd brought a toaster from his room into the bar and was now trying to cook Hot Pockets all the way through. And who was testing these Hot Pockets out? Tino, of course. Hannibal gave him some cock and bull story about them being gourmet and a total girl attractor and Tino, being Tino, believed him.

Right now, Hannibal was on his fifth Hot Pocket and Tino was beginning to realize that everything about Hot Pockets was fake and gross.

Current Mood: ditzy

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

There weren't any complaints from rodents or elderly residents who by now should know better. There wasn't any malfunctions with the coffee pots or the lockers or even the desk drawers. There was a manageable and not at all absurd amount of paperwork in Angua's inbox.

She shook her head slightly.

There was always at least one day a month like this. At least one.

In her opinion, they could be just a little more generous with those kinds of days, really.

[[ open station is open...and unfortunately not at all reflective of RL...stupid Mondays ]]

laceycantlie.livejournal.com

"What happened to all the frying pans?" was the pressing question of the day, once Lacey's kitchen staff had assembled and she got to confront them about the mysterious wholesale lack of a certain vital piece of kitchen equipment.

The cook scratched behind his ear and glanced away; the busboy and dishwasher shuffled their feet and mumbled something incomprehensible as they turned bright red.

Lacey put her hands on her hips, pursed her lips, and gave them a narrow-eyed look. "Oh, and now I suppose you're going to tell me some kind of . . . flying frying pan-eating monster crusading against the use of cooking oil showed up over the weekend and did away with them?"

She shouldn't have said that; it got her a hasty chorus of vague agreement.

"Well, I guess you're going to have to find some way to deal with egg orders this morning, aren't you? (The grill was fine for everything else, but Lacey was oddly particular about how the eggs got cooked. You couldn't make an omelet on the grill, for crying out loud.)

Today's Specials
Spinach, Mushroom, and Cheese Egg Mug
Beet, Rhubarb, and Orange Salad
Chicken Parmesan Burgers

Luke's is open, and oh, how timely that delivery of new ceramicware was.

famous-gut.livejournal.com

Word must have gotten around the animal kingdom yesterday about the mediating powers of the police force in Fandom as there were two bunnies sitting on top of Gibbs's desk today. The dispute appeared to be over the custody over a carrot which the first bunny claimed to own and was stolen from her. The second bunny claimed that he had found the carrot left unattended and followed the ancient tradition of all species which went along the lines of "Finders keepers. Losers weepers."

Let's see what words of wisdom Gibbs has for these floppy eared creatures.

"GET THE HELL OFF MY DESK!"

Yep. Words to live by.

[Yes, I totally ripped off

colourfulscents. Not feeling guilty either. Open.]

nomoreveruca.livejournal.com

Getting Nicky used to the whole daycare thing was tricky, since Cally wasn't sticking to a set schedule of when she was actually available in the apartment builing lobby. She knew she had to work on that, for his sake. He wasn't exactly the happiest camper over there, or so she heard from the workers each time she picked him up after work.

She might just have to build some things here in the lobby, to keep him occupied and close, instead.

So the MCA landlady is behind the counter/desk, doodling idle blueprints (as much as you can call doodles blueprints) of various cribs and playpens. She'd happily talk to anyone who stopped by, of course.

[ooc: OCD free, open post!]

laceycantlie.livejournal.com

Lacey'd spent most of the fourth of July on the phone with the boys back in Dog River, which meant she'd gotten treated to an extensive (really, really extensive) and misinformed (grossly, grossly misinformed) diatribe from Hank on why exactly Americans set off fireworks on the Fourth. Hank's version, for the record, involved dud firecrackers from Canada Day that somehow ended up over the border, someone discovering them and attempting to light them, and this all logically (really!) leading to an explanation of why their fireworks celebrations were inferior.

At least, Lacey thought that was what he was leading up to before she'd hung up on him.

And maybe just for that, just to spite him, she'd do the diner up in a red, white, and blue theme today. So there.

Today's Specials
Double-Dipped Buttermilk Fried Chicken
Grilled Corn with Lime-Cilantro Butter
Maple Cake with Maple Syrup Frosting

NOW HIRING - See Manager for Details

. . . okay, she might have failed the theme there on that last special, but shh.

Luke's is open and, belatedly, a little bit holiday-themed? Maybe?

[OOC: OCD's going to the beach, because my brain is seriously on vacation today and this post took me three hours to write. I am not going to the beach, but I do have errands to run so SP is gonna be the thing.]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

The whole thing was entirely fascinating, really.

Angua sat at her desk, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded in front of her. She was listening, with rather impressive patience, to the ministrations of two tiny rodents that stood on the paperwork. She couldn't understand a single thin they were trying to say to her, but she gathered the general idea of it. The squirrel was absolutely livid because the chipmunk had stolen her nut. The chipmunk insisted that the squirrel had threatened her based on her position with the radio station, and it wasn't her nut at all.

Frankly, Angua felt they were both off their nut entirely.

"Listen," she finally said, holding out a hand to stop the bickering before leaning forward on her folded arms on the desk. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the nut probably came from a tree in either the park or the preserve, which are public lands. Those nuts are anyone's nuts. Anyone can just go out there and grab them, and if you leave your nuts where someone else can grab them, then it's your own fault for not protecting them better. It's really a little bit ridiculous to get all caught up on a single nut, when there are thousands out there, most of them probably better than the nut in question here. Besdies, there are people out there in the world who get by just fine without any nuts at all."

They turned their beady rodent eyes toward Angua a bit dubiously, then looked at each other and sighed. They shrugged, conceded to her the point, and scurried off, leaving Angua to wonder if she seriously just said what she thought she did.

Considering the fact that Ralph looked like he was trying not to titter as he handed her the form to file the claim, yeah, she probably did.

[[ open station is open! ]]

gunandcoffee.livejournal.com

Her computer was beeping.

Every keystroke she punched it beeped. She didn't even know what started it. One second she was typing out her reports and the next every keystroke led to beeping.

"This is gonna be a thing, isn't it?" Reese narrowed her eyes at her computer. "This is gonna be one of the things where when I bring in a tech geek you're gonna stop beeping but the moment he leaves you start beeping again, right?"

It might be her imagination but it seemed like her monitor... glinted.

Reese dropped her face into her hand. It was gonna be one of those days.

(Open!)

Current Mood: cranky

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Something had to be up. Angua was in a good mood today. Not just a good mood, but a potentially great one. True, it wasn't as if she was skipping about the station, singing and tossing flowers everywhere; that would almost be too terrifying for words. But she was easily pleasant, worked on her in box without the slightest complaint, and even went so far as to brew another pot of coffee when she took the final dregs of the last pot instead of just putting it back on the burner empty as usual.

But, really, there was one less bloody vampire in her world and she got to kill things without remorse during a full moon. You didn't even have to factor in ear scritches to count that as a very nice weekend. It just about nearly made thing break even with the last few weeks she'd been having. Just about.

[[ open station is oooopen! ]]

laceycantlie.livejournal.com

There were four birds perched on the edge of the awning above one of the diner's front windows today, each of them chirping an entirely different kind of trill. Lacey hadn't noticed this at first, having been preoccupied with her morning cleaning ~~insanity~~ routine, but they were chirping in a pattern that was hard to miss after the thirtieth or fortieth repetition.

"Wow," she said, wandering out front with her mop still in her hand and peering up at the birds (because she'd been in Fandom long enough that talking to the wildlife was nowhere near the scale of crazy any more), "can you stick around and do that all day? I'll pay you in some really nice premium birdseed."

The smallest of the four birds turned to look at her, trilled once, and resumed its place in the chorus.

". . . take that as a yes?" Lacey tried hopefully. She wasn't fluent in bird, but since the singing didn't stop for the rest of the morning she assumed she'd been right.

Today's Specials
Roasted Fingerling Potato Salad
Tomato and Tomatillo Gazpacho
Deep-Dish Peach Pie

NOW HIRING - See Manager for Details

Luke's is open, musical, and somewhat poultry-free at the moment.

chosehumanity

Mitchell turned the little blue disk over in his hands. It was encased in plastic, and still smelled like the rubbish bin he'd taken it out of in the short few minutes before his portal arrived.

He shouldn't have it. He should've just left it to rot there.

But a part of him? That part he'd claimed to have forsaken for humanity? It didn't-- he couldn't.

He studied it until the bored server set down his coffee and muttered something about milk and dollar prices, and then he set it aside, took his drink, and sipped from it as he stared out the window. Lauren. The blood. Somewhere out there--

Why did things always have to get complicated?

[[ around for a few hours! open! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It was just a Monday. A typical, normal Monday...

...wedged between an absolutely abnormal Friday and the start of That Time of the Month.

Angua was doing just fine, just fine. If you counted just fine as driving heavily into work and not paying attention to anything except the warm embrace of her coffee if she could help it.

With one hitch. Occassionally, she'd come across a paper, blink at it, gingerly lean in to sniff it, and then look almost piteously at Ralph. "Ralph, this wouldn't happen to be one of the files from Vimes' office, would it?"

It would.

The file hit the desk with a resounding smack; Angua's chair scraped against the floor. The coffee mug paled in her deadly grip.

"I'm taking a coffee break."

Again.

[[ open station is open! ]]

laceycantlie.livejournal.com

Lacey did not want to talk about Friday in any way, shape or form, so of course it was the first subject that came up when the busboy arrived, and Lacey, being a horrible liar, was unable to avoid it.

She also blustered so much that by the time the rest of the staff was on hand and the story had gotten around, it had been mangled enough that no one could decide if she'd been a stripper, a groupie, or if she'd gone and gotten a dozen piercings they couldn't see. This, luckily, meant that no one questioned the need to wash, dry, and put away the rest of the new set of dishes that'd been necessary to order after some random, bizarre Fandom incident left the diner with half its plates and mugs smashed by a sledgehammer on Saturday morning.

Whew.

Today's Specials
Pasta Salad with Cherry Tomatoes and Green Olivada
Three-Cheese Mushroom and Spinach Calzone
Pork Tenderloin with Pears and Shallots

NOW HIRING - See Manager for Details

Luke's is open, and not so -- ooh, new dishes.

[OOC: And also OCD-free today. Just for once. SO THERE.]

Fandom High RPG

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