fandomtownies | Saturday evening: In the park, before curfew.

After she'd parted ways with Aaron in the woods, Duce continued her walkabout and headed into town. She had many things to think about. Had she actually told someone to not worry about what they looked like, because it didn't matter here? Had she actually told someone they could let their guard down, here in Fandom? She had, and that wasn't sitting well with her. Partly because it seemed to be true, and partly because it was another marker of a disturbing trend of being compassionate to complete strangers. She kept finding herself saying things people needed to hear, and not in the 'for their own good' sense. Duce was allowing herself to care, and the thought of that made her frown fiercely. Caring meant opening her tightly locked little defense mechanisms and risking getting hurt.

Sitting on the rim of the fountain, she sighed and wished she had her backpack, or at least her sketch pad. She thought about going back to the manor to get them, but it was just too long of a trip there and back. The best she could do was the tiny spiral bound notepad she kept in a jacket pocket. Pulling it and it's tiny golf-pencil free of her pocket, she began to doodle strange little chibi cartoon figures. Drawing helped her think.

She also admitted to herself that she was wandering so much today so she wasn't ever in any one spot long enough for Alex or Jake to get their hands on her. A smile broke across her features. There was some serious karmic payback that was probably going to fall on her like a 100lb anvil dropped from the sky as soon as either or both of them caught up to her. So far, though, so good.

They were probably still in bed. Well, one could hope, anyway. Her own relationship in such shambles, it was kind of nice to vicariously cheer on one that wasn't. The Boys were so cute. While thinking that, she began to doodle cute little chibi Kryceks and Jakes.

(ooc: Open. Come play. Or if you're K/J, come chase her around and try to kill her.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OOC: Gah. if I'd seen this earlier, Oz would have tagged in. But I've lost track of time and am soon to pass out.]

(ooc: +warn: next time Oz tags in, he's in for major serious angst from an extremely neurotic Duce. Kinda glad he didn't tag in, since the Big Tall Bastard decided to drip angst on her. Twice in one day would probably have killed me.)

[OOC: Is noted. Will warn. She's not upset with Oz, is she?]

(ooc: In a word? Yes. The mun should go back and read Duce's last diary entry, even if Oz would never.)

After leaving Caritas (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomtownies/332672.html?thread=13623168#t13623168), Callisto stalks into the park, dragging an unconscious Ash behind her by the legs, muttering about drunken mood-killers.

After reaching one of the benches near the duckpond, she drops his legs, and turns around. Grimacing, she starts methodically stripping Ash.

Twenty minutes later, Callisto steps back and admires her handiwork.

Clad only in his underwear, Ash was sitting slumped on the park-bench, his arms stretched out and tied to the backrest on either side of him. Every inch of his bare skin is covered in Sharpie, mostly rude words and insults in a variety of languages, although there is an especially dirty limerick written across his chest in Greek.

Pausing only long enough to throw the rest of Ash's clothes in the pond, Callisto practically skipped back to the dorms.

Duce blinks as Callisto walks into the park carrying a body. Not that you can see her eyes, but the expression on her face is definitely "Buh?" She doesn't seem surprised by the body, just that Callisto bothered to drag it here before sacking it. "Callisto?" she calls, "You need any help rolling that thing into the pond?"

Looking up, from drawing on Ash with a Sharpie (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomtownies/334621.html?thread=13635613#t13635613), Callisto calls back "Hey, Duce. No dumping him in the pond would wake him up, and I don't want that just yet."

Duce hops up and wanders over to see what Callisto's doing. Reading the Greek insult, she snickers wickedly, "Liceridden sucker of leperous goats? Niiiice. Isn't he that annoying gym teacher from school? And is this a private party or can anyone play?"

"Wrestling Coach, and 'Art' Teacher, actually." Grinning, Callisto hands Duce another Sharpie. "Be my guest."

Duce's grin is positively wicked as she takes the sharpie, "And just think, here I was, bemoaning the lack of a suitible sketchpad, and along you come with something bigger and a whole lot more fun. Don't know how I'll ever thank you."

Popping the cap off the sharpie, Duce begins to add to the growing number of things written on Ash. She tries to form hers into almost tribal looking patterns, making the vulgar at least aesthetically pleasing.

Well, pleasing to her aesthetics. She is a gorgon, after all.

"Consider it thanks for a job well done at the show last night." Reading some of Duce's additions Callisto starts snickering. Oh my, haven't heard that one for a while."

Duce grins, "My pleasure," and sounds like she actually means it. Glancing at what Callisto's writing, she laughs quietly, "So what's Mr. Coach done to earn your enmity? Cuz I doubt that," she gestures at one of the really crude things Callisto's written about Ash, "counts as an endearment."

"I'm on the Wrestling Team and I'm the Art TA. As a result I have spent far more time in that man's presence than anyone can reasonably be expected to."

Shooting Callisto a look of shock and instant sympathy, Duce writes something the likes of which has been known to cause angels to fall. "Dear gods. I spent three minutes with him once, and that was two minutes, fifty eight seconds too long."

"Y'know what the worst part is? He doesn't actually seem to mean anything by it. I mean if he was being malicious I could take it to the Dean, but no, he's just an ass, which sadly isn't a punishable offense. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to ignore opportunities like this when the gods drop them into my lap."

"Anyone this offensive deserves to be punished by public flogging," Duce noted, "Whether he means the diahretic crap that comes spewing out every time he opens his mouth or not doesn't make it any less disgusting." She pauses long enough to write something disgusting concerning Ash's mother and his lack of knowledge on who that woman might've been and what profession she might've had. "It would be a crime to waste such a wonderful opportunity." She pauses, considering her handiwork, "You're the art TA, right? Can you give yourself extra credit for this?"

[ooc: Take 2, from the correct account. *facepalm*)

"Oh, believe me, if I were back home, I'd be taking him on a short trip through Amazon lands, by the end he'd have learned when to keep his mouth closed, if nothing else." Callisto carefully draws the sigil of a male prostitude on Ash's cheek. "I'll have to check."

Duce smirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrks. "Brilliant." Whether she's referring to the sigel or the remark, is hard to say.

Saturday evening: In the park, before curfew.

OOC

Re: OOC

Re: OOC

Re: OOC

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject