Entry tags:
- tlv: !ic,
- tlv: abel,
- tlv: alexander hilbert,
- tlv: angeal hewley,
- tlv: avalon,
- tlv: dimitri alexander blaiddyd,
- tlv: doug eiffel,
- tlv: elim rawne,
- tlv: francesca "franky" cook,
- tlv: iris wildthyme,
- tlv: jacob seed,
- tlv: james "bucky" barnes,
- tlv: jedao two,
- tlv: jonathan reid,
- tlv: kirei kotomine,
- tlv: lark tennant,
- tlv: lestat de lioncourt,
- tlv: lester sheehan,
- tlv: mad sweeney,
- tlv: maggie garcia,
- tlv: malcolm bright,
- tlv: natalie scatorccio,
- tlv: neal caffrey,
- tlv: nita callahan,
- tlv: oscar,
- tlv: paul "jesus" rovia,
- tlv: raylan givens,
- tlv: root,
- tlv: rosita espinosa,
- tlv: steve rogers [captain america],
- tlv: will graham,
- tlv: xie lian,
- tlv: zack fair
IC contact for
lastvoyages
[If I don't have an active post up, feel free to use this post to have your character call, videochat, text, or knock on Shaw's door.]
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[It's out before she can stop it, and more follows.]
Her life was...even more alone than mine is. Death around every corner, nothing but losses. Every time was...special. Memorable.
Satisfying.
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In theory, that should be good. She'd asked because she'd been hoping to hear that her plan had gone as intended; that she'd left that other Franky with something solid and worth remembering. But what she says is--]
I'm sorry.
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Sorry for what?
no subject
no subject
[She stops, shaking her head, rubbing the back of her neck.]
What sucks is...the mixing up. The breaches all faded before, you know? Back to my usual self, tickety-boo as they say. I could tell what was there, what was here.
And here, well, it's usually a lot simpler. Alone, like being that way and...and, well. Hadn't found myself drawn to...[she clears her throat.]
To women before. Or...or a woman.
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[She asks, mildly baffled.]
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Makes it bloody confusing but sex that satisfying doesn't make anything worse.
[And then her face realizes she's said it.]
Shit, my turn to say sorry, I think. A bit gauche of me, as they say.
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[It's meant to be a quip, even if she's too worn out to sound properly lighthearted. Either way, she certainly isn't offended.]
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Clearly.
[She swallows, thickly.]
Enough so that the thoughts have...lingered. They're...not going away, like the other breaches did.
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[It's another joke, though honestly, if Franky takes it as a serious offer she'll absolutely do it.]
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What? No! God, no. Look, I'm a big girl, I can sort out the suddenly new things, I don't need some half-assed letdown to follow y...
[She waves that away.]
All my standards are uncompromising. Not many have ever measured up. Or delivered...adequately.
[Translation: she is a vigorous, energetic lady and very, very few are worth her time, and fewer still have made her body sing.]
Your, uh, gal in port. She's lucky.
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Thanks.
[Because really, what else does one say here?]
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I...really should be going. I've used up enough of your time blabbering away like...like a besotted schoolgirl or something.
[It might be a useful line, but the flush in her cheeks...]
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[Probably a good idea, because Shaw wants to fucking sleep for a week.]
Wanna patrol together later?
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Works for me. And there's plenty of soup in those meals. Good, hearty stuff. Get you back on your feet.
[And she heads for the door, nodding.]
See you around.
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Thanks.
[She mutters again, just barely loud enough to hear.]