fandomtownies | Entries tagged with sam vimes

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

There was post from Ankh-Morpork waiting on Vimes' desk today. One with the seal of the Patrician firmly afixed to the front of it to let him know this wasn't from Sergeant Angua should she be feeling the need to write.

It would seem that his presence was being requested back in his city. Finally.

Now it was just a matter of making sure Ralph could handle the various problems the island threw their way. Not that Ralph was much of a whiner that Vimes heard about. Mostly because he didn't listen to the man all that much.

Shhh.

[[For one in particular]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

Why yes, Vimes had noticed something odd was going on around the island. Because there were countless calls about flying turtles and small, squat blobs marching around.

If this was some 'miracle' by Om, he was going to be very cross.

But, for now, he was distracted be the appearance of a large green pipe in the lobby of the station. Somehow, he didn't think this boded well.

icecoldfrost

The girls met today where Emma and Quinn had ~~handwavily~~ told them to arrive - at the Trooper Station.

Vimes cleared his throat, strongly wishing that Sergeant Angua was here at the moment. At least she had a few things in common with the assembled lot in his station. Hair care tips at the very least. She had enough of it...

“Welcome to the Trooper Station,” he said, hands clasped behind his back in a stance that could be considered ‘at ease’. This was almost as bad as an audience with the patrician. “You’ll be working with a few of the troopers today to get a feeling for what the coppering life is like.”

"Which we're doing by practicing fingerprinting and helping out around the station," Quinn put in smoothly, before anyone could express any bright ideas about going to the Perk and arresting the barista who always tried to look down your top. (Okay, that might have been what Quinn wanted to do, and she was still a little sulky she couldn't.) "We'll be gaining valuable real-world office experience."

"Misfiled paperwork could lead to the wrong suspect being booked or going free," Emma continued. "Make the coffee too weak, and your fellows might put you behind bars. You have to know someones rights, and not violate them." SIGH. BORING. "It's not as glamorous as on television shows, and it's a lot of walking."

But the walked was the best part, girls! “And learning to sleep standing up and in the rain,” Vimes added cheerfully.

"Or just not sleep at all," Emma replied, wincing at the idea of what that would do to her hair and skin. "Some of us are good at that sort of thing. The rest of us? Can label evidence under the watchful eye of the Troopers and Sheriff Vimes."

[OOC: OCD up!]

Current Mood: working

batwaffles.livejournal.com

Another night, another rooftop, another prolonged bout of ~~lurking~~ keeping an eye out. She'd almost gotten used to it by now -- the eerie, almost preternatural quiet of Fandom's streets compared to the constant chaos that was Gotham City -- but it always left her with the feeling that it was too quiet and something had to give.

When that happened, she didn't want to miss out.

The girl in the bright red and green costume, hints of equally-bright yellow showing when the occasional breeze caught her black cape and made it flutter to expose the inner lining, was grinning so brightly it was probably visible even in the darkness. Nobody had ever told her about the boy who'd worn these colors before saying that being Robin gave him magic, but she'd completely agree if she knew. Just being out here and feeling the weight of her utility belt, the snap of her grappling line pulling taut mid-flight, and the domino mask around her eyes -- that was a thrill in and of itself.

That she clearly wasn't the only one around here who indulged in these nocturnal habits (Huh. Wonder if the roomie's weirded out by my apparently nonexistent sleep schedule yet?) didn't escape her as she crouched on the edge of a warehouse roof peering over the edge with the night-vision lenses in her mask activated. That part was nice; that part made it a lot like home, where some nights -- as she'd cracked to Batman on one occasion and almost gotten a hint of a smile for it -- you couldn't swing a purse recovered from a mugger without hitting a vigilante.

That part made her smile even wider.

Let the boss be grim and serious about work all the time; that wasn't for her. Being Robin, even when the Fandom streets were awfully light on bad-guy butts to kick, was an amazing thing, and she was going to enjoy it for all it was worth.

[OOC: Totally open, though I may be slow until I get home! As always, the fact that the person on the roof is actually Stephanie is NFB. Wait, that's my linkdrop. OH WELL.]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

The past week had been quiet. One might say too quiet, but Vimes was not such a person. Oh no, not after having various children in his station, looking for their mothers and/or fathers.

This was just the break one needed.

Which meant he was just going to spend the day in his office, procrastinating doing the paperwork that was piling up.

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

There were some weekends that were more distracting than others. Such as the ones where children arrived all over the town, claiming that various people were their parents.

Unfortunately for Vimes this, as last time it happened, took the form of a baby in his office. Cooing at him.

And chewing on it's hand.

There was a moment of staring at one another before Vimes reached for the intercom. "...Ralph, diaper change."

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

There were, of course, already calls flooding in about the sudden upswing in Dwarf-sized, bow and arrow wielding winged men firing at innocent bystanders in the name of 'love'. Descriptions were taken, tickets written out, arrests made until there was a jail cell full of them.

One unfortunate incident involving Ralph and another trooper had Vimes retreating to his office by midday. There were just some things a commanding officer did not need to see. Ever.

So, for now, he was actually making an attempt at paperwork as he pointedly ignored the alleged 'Cupid' perched on a filing cabinet with its bow drawn in hopes of making a love connection with Vimes and the next person to enter the office. "Hate to see what would happen if that went off," Vimes said, not glancing up from his work. "Someone's apt to get hurt."

The who in that was left up to the imagination of the now slightly nervous Cupid.

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!]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

It wasn't terribly often there was anyone in the cells of the station. So, coming in to find what polite company would call a garishly gentleman and a lady of negotiable affections was interesting at the very least.

After a nice, leisurely cup of coffee as he read over Angua's report on the matter, he asked Ralph to make sure the pair hadn't murdered each other yet.

That would just be extra paperwork.

spring-lost.livejournal.com

"I think you all know why I've called you here today."

Cable stood at the front of the large room, on a platform that made him look even bigger than he already was. Wearing a dark blue spandex suit and the mother of all huge-ass guns on his back, he made for quite a figure.

"Our citizens have been attacked, or even kidnapped. Communications have been cut off. Most of the island is now covered in a labyrinth. I caution you all not to enter it. Likewise for the bog that seems to be surrounding the school at the present time. We are now all operating under a state of emergency; anyone who isn't armed should feel free to take arms from Wellspring, or from my private reserve here."

Yes, he kept guns in the Mayor's office. Was anyone really surprised?

"But rest assured that this emergency will not go on forever. I am already putting security precautions in place, but to do this effectively, I need your help." He glanced around the room. "These goblins are kidnapping lone stragglers out on the town. Do not go outside without an escort. Preferably several. And I would like anyone who wants to lend a hand to let us know now, or at least form a team to patrol the area on their own. No one benefits from lone rangers." Well, unless they were him. But anyway... "I'd especially like to ask you all to be vigilant around the dorms. So far, the invaders have only taken students, and I think we can all agree that their safety is a top priority. A team will need to set up a defense perimeter there."

He gave the gathered one last group. "And if anyone has any recon whatsoever on what these things are and how we can stop them, I suggest you make sure we all know about it," he said. "I know many of you will be hitting the books soon. Keep us informed."

And now that that had sunk in... "Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have dealt with worse in the past. Plenty of invaders have tried. There isn't a trace of doubt in my mind that we can beat back this latest batch and still be back home safe in time for Christmas."

He nodded, and took a step back, making room for any of his colleagues to take the stand, if they wished.

[[ open! ]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

The phones were, unsurprisingly considering the state of the island, ringing off the hook at the trooper station today. Which meant Vimes was even more tetchy* than normal in responding to the troopers.

"No, we don't know where the godsdamned maze came from," he snapped, fastening his dented, but well used helmet in place. "Just tell them to stop wandering into mysterious places that have appeared overnight."

Ralph looked from him and then back to the phone slowly, as if hoping he might say that himself.

Vimes simply gave him another look and grabbed his truncheon. "Tell them to find a ball of thread before attempting to prune themselves from the family tree then." A ball of thread seemed about right for the circumstances.

Possibly a minotaur...

[[Open post is open!]]

*Tetchy being a polite way to say 'YOU HORRID HORRID LITTLE MAN' without shrieking.

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

There were a lot of things Vimes could deal with since coming to this island. His troopers turning into children, or other people, or hell freezing over...

But turning into a woman was just a bit beyond that. It was enough to turn a man to drink again, really.

"Ralph," he, now she, said, mostly muffled by the fact that he was resting his head on his desk. In the hope this would go away soon. "Coffee. Lots of coffee."

No, he wasn't going to look up and see a female trooper, thank you.

auntie-vida.livejournal.com

Vida had been busy since early that morning, setting up the park to be perfect for the Strawberry Social. Fortunately, the park was bug free, but she had music playing to drown the sounds of Celine Dion from nearby residences. Said music tended toward the pop side, bouncy and happy, with a side of disco. Drake had nothing to do with that, really.

Several picnic tables were laid end to end, covered with red table cloths and adorned with flower arrangements. There were plenty of plates to load up with food, which was available in plenty, including just about every strawberry dish imaginable. Vida had gone overboard, yes. She'd also provided red flowers to tuck in the hair and red scarves for those who might be feeling red-deficient.

Ignore any threat of rain, the weather was gorgeous. Because Vida demanded it.

[~~Wait for~~ OCD~~, please~~ is up! Open to all!]

Current Mood: happy

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

Cracks in reality, he could handle. Disappearances, he could handle.

Destroying his ~~watchhouse~~ trooper station? Vimes was now officially cross with this town. He was possibly, as Nobby might put it, gone spare.

Gripping his truncheon tightly, Vimes narrowed his eyes at the spot where, up until then, he lived and worked. Had he been a bit more genre savvy, he might have found a pair of sunglasses and had a witty remark, but he was not. It was time to prod buttocks.

[[Establishy, but open if you like!]]

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]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

The sudden surge in the number of calls about being locked in closets and stuck in elevators--since when did so many places even have elevators?--got Vimes out of the station to have a look around town to see just what was going on.

This somehow ended up in the park, dealing with a flower vendor who kept trying to give him roses for that special girl. And then winked at him.

"Do you have a license to sell these here?" Vimes said in response. Because people winking at him weren't to be tolerated.

The vendor sputtered, not sure what to make of this one. People were clearly just supposed to take the flowers and run into the love of their life!

"And I'd like to see your guild membership as well."

[[...idek. Open for slowplay!]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

Vimes was not avoiding the trooper station by walking a beat around town. The very idea was just silly. It was just a nice day and he felt it for the best to get out and see the town.

Far, far away from Angua. And his desk.

He made a mental note to have Ralph replace his with someone else's. That would work, yes.

So, for now he was walking along, more than just a bit sad that the streets here were nowhere near as easy to read. Especially in what amounted to very nice shoes.

[[Open, of course!]]

eternalstud.livejournal.com

Damon was normal as normal could be tonight at the bar. Probably for the best. If he was opposite himself, he'd be Stefan and nobody wants that to happen. Tino, however, was acting sort of...smooth? He wasn't as creepy, anyway. Still fugly, in Damon's opinion.

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua did, sometimes, have an apologetic streak, and she was feeling fairly bad about how she acted last week. In light of a waning moon, it was easy to sit back and wonder how she could act that way. So she'd left a nice can of polish for his uniform in Ralph's locker as a way to make up for all the growling and snapping and threatening to do very painful things to certain sensitive body parts.

And while Gibbs didn't handle her paperwork and therefor she had no real reason to try to make it up, she felt bad enough to leave just a small bag of really nice coffee for him.

Of course, one could argue that you might leave a good impression by not getting into people's lockers at all, but that just wasn't how a Watchman did things.

Angua settled behind her desk, looked her in box over, and got to work.

[[ open station is open. I almost just wrote 'openation' ]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

Yes, as sheriff, he didn't really need to patrol the island, but that never stopped Vimes from doing just that. Even though his shoes weren't the cardboard soles for him to feel the streets.

Not that it would do him any good here.

But he walked nonetheless. It was relaxing, really!

[[Open if you like!]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Something was going on at the school, and Angua ~~was being neglected~~ was not complaining at all. With so much happening over there, there was nothing going on over here, and she was enjoying one of those rare moments where, unless a good breeze came through, all she could smell was most just squirrels and ducks and residual lingering.

She even closed her eyes and breathed in deep and reveled in how simple the colours that came to her were.

There needed to be more stuff going on up at the school more often.

[[ and open park is open. as if there wasn't a picnic going on, la ]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

The first spot of real coppering and it involved three teenage girls in costumes that probably would be a bit more at home at the Pink Pussycat Club than for getting into fights.

But Vimes wasn't really about to let that stop him.

All three were in the interrogation room--they had a room just for that!--with Vimes sitting across from them, waiting patiently for someone to talk.

[[for those ladies]]

glacial_queen

~~Karla~~ Mistress Mayhem silently passed through the walls of the gallery, wrapped in sight and sound shields so no hint of her presence could be detected. She stepped carefully on air, hovering several inches above the floor where, no doubt, Sophie had installed pressure plates to protect her gallery. Cameras roved back and forth, but couldn't pierce the veil of her Craft.

Sneak sneak sneak sneak sneeeeeeeeeeeak sneaksneaksneak

The best thing about aural shields? No one could hear you humming to yourself.

The gallery was like being inside a treasure chest. Beautiful gemstone carvings sat on marble pedestals, just waiting to be approached and admired. Beams of light crisscrossed all around each pedestal, but Mistress Mayhem passed through each without fear--her shields wouldn't trigger them.

After a moment of thought, she decided that five carvings would be enough--she only had a small backpack, after all, and it wouldn't do to be greedy. A small shield around each protected them from harm--though she'd vanish the backpack if any real danger threatened--and she swiftly chose the five loveliest pieces to take with her. In each place she left a small bag of rocks from the beach.

And then she was gone, then entire process taking maybe ten minutes. Not a pressure plate had been pressed, a laser interrupted, or a trace left behind.

She slipped out of the building, dropping the shields as she did so, exulting in her daring plan.

Unfortunately for her, Mistress Mayhem was unaware of two things. First, Sophie had installed heat sensors on all of the pedestals, so if anyone got too close, they'd trigger a silent alarm in the Fandom Trooper Station.

And second, she was being followed by two shadows, neither of whom intended to let her keep her prizes.

[Fourth Dimension modded with permission. NFI. For the vigilantes and the Fandom police, please]

nojesusfreak.livejournal.com

After tearing through his house like a kid on a sugar high (which, well, he had been), Biff finally discovered Outside.

"Let's play Stone the Adulteress!" he cried to whoever was around before gathering up some rocks.

Children's games two thousand years ago were odd.

[OOC: So very open.]

Current Mood: hyper

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

There were only so many things a man could prepare for on this island. Rains of various food products, invasion of very tiny animals, children.

Though the last one usually meant he pawned the real work off on Ralph.

But not today, it seemed. Today there was a very small child in a miniature version of Ralph's rather unusual uniform. And it was coloring at his desk. Right then.

This was one of those weekends.

Vimes was very wisely just going to grab his helmet and set about for a patrol.

[[Oooopen before he flees!]]

notquitewright.livejournal.com

Marcus didn't sleep much. Hadn't, since his first night on death row, but stuck on this weird ass island the tendency had grown more pronounced. A few hours a night and he was done. Left him with a lot of free time.

Except he couldn't leave and he didn't have anything he had to do. Was a time when that would have led directly to trouble, but not now. Not today.

He was still bored, though. Which would be why the early hours of Tuesday found him walking around town, watchful and silent, sticking to the shadows from habit, constructing a mental map of the island: every street, every alley, every bolthole and escape route. Never knew when that sort of information would come in handy.

His path took him past some old warehouses, and he studied them briefly before turning to look out over the water. It was the one thing he actually liked about this place.

[This post is open, though sore afflicted with extreme slow play after 8:30. What Kyle and Marcus discussed NFB, please.]

solo_sword

Jaina arrived back in Fandom too late to unpack any of her things, but a little early for work. Figuring it was better to be early, she ditched her stuff in her room and headed into town, opening the door to the bar-

And found Tino once again naked behind the bar. She would never, ever ask what she would have seen if she'd been any earlier.

Two minutes later, he was clothed and sanitizing everything while she kept glowering at him. Too bad she couldn't bleach her brain.

Current Mood: just no

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

This may be a Very Bad Idea. Angua easily remembered what happened the last time she'd come into the station on a Saturday, and she would prefer to avoid it if at all possible. Thankfully, though, hopefully, anyway, she wouldn't actually be in the station for long. She'd just be very quick in-and-out, to get something she'd left there earlier that week, and then she'd be done with the place and actually have a quiet Saturday for a change.

...if she could only find the bloody thing.

Another desk drawer went boom. "Ralph," muttered Angua under her breath, "I swear to gods, if you've been tidying things..."

[[ duh, it's open! Though my hopeful torturing of Angua may be a little slow through part of the day, due to mean stuff happening on AU Kidlet weekend ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

When Angua settled into the usual Monday desk shift at the station, she was in a fairly decent mood. There was a manageable pile of papers in her in-box. Ralph and the other troopers seemed to be going about their daily tasks in an orderly, professional manner, without any joking or jostling or raucousness. The coffee was flowing without even a hint of burning or spills, and the phones seemed to be ringing at a gentle, reasonable rate.

So, of course, it was driving Angua mad.

"Can't we just, I don't know, release some ferrets into the streets? We can tie wings on them, so they seem, I don't know, magical or whatever..."

Naturally, this was met with blank stares. Considering that they all wore helmets, the stares were usually blank, but this time they meant it.

"Okay, fine. Food colouring in the water supply?"

There might have been a cricket sound.

"Well, do something. Piss around a little more. This is starting to creep me out, you guys."

[[ open station is open! ]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

Somehow, Vimes had managed to pick up one of the phones. It might have been due to the noise or perhaps that Ralph had fled for a coffee break after so many calls from ~~ye old NPC~~ citizens of the island.

Let's just say it wasn't the best idea.

Vimes frowned at the phone, as though the person on the other end could see how much of an idiot he thought them to be. "If there are monsters in the fog, don't go out in it."

There was a pause as the person responded. Loudly.

"No, checking your tulips doesn't count as an emergency, lovely as they might be."

There was one thing that never changed, no matter where you went. Petty, single-minded people with disturbing hobbies.

Oh, and mysterious beasts.

[[Open, of course]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

The talking, well dressed rats really weren't so much new as annoying. So Vimes was attempting to get them to move along and go back to their ship. Or where ever pi-rats came from.

Possibly a math class.

"Look, you can't just sneak up on people and demand pie," He informed a small group trapped inside the smallest jail he could find.

...at the pet store.

"And you--" Vimes pointed out one particular pi-rat who was attempting to carve the numbers of pi into the plastic bottom of the cage with the smallest cutlass Vimes had ever seen. "--no more of that, got it? Or you'll be in here all day and no one will get pie."

The disappointed noises were truly worth it.

[[...sure, open]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

It was safe to say that Vimes wasn't exactly pleased to be part of the latest bit of Fandom insanity. Now, he could probably hand being a woman or a child because then he'd still be himself.

But some weird ginger girl?

No way on the Disc.

And he had some kid in his cells. This did not make for a very happy sheriff.

cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com

Cobra Commander had the giant peach bomb in a warehouse. He also had his broadcasting equipment set up and a teleprompter loaded with his crazed rant about how he had a giant peach bomb that could destroy an American city if he wasn't given control of the country in twelve hours. He was just waiting for the Oscars to start so he could take over that feed for greater effect.

Yes, that meant the Commander was watching Barbara Walters. Shut up. He would totally kill you if you said anything about it.

[OOC: For certain individuals, not all of whom are me.]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

What Angua was doing at the station on a Saturday morning was a very good question; if anyone knew the answer, she'd appreciate it greatly if they'd share it. Because she certainly didn't know.

She did know that she was feeling a little restless and a little bored, and maybe some part of her brain had the ridiculous notion that if she came in for just a few hours in the morning, she could make enough of a dent in her paperwork that, on Monday, it wouldn't seem like such a heavy load. A very small part of her brain. One most likely delusional.

Especially since when she came in, it was not to her desk that she went first, but to the coffee maker.

It did seem rather quieter here on a Saturday morning, she'd give it that.

[[ expecting, natch, a particular encounter, but station is SOOOOOO so so very open. So much. And, if Angua's met you and you're different, but you don't mind her being able to still tell who you are by scent, please let me know! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

It was waning, that pesky full moon, but Angua could still feel the linger effects of the perpetual monthly bad hair day sticking around and huddled around her coffee to ward it off. It wasn't doing a very good job. It was different than in Ankh-Morpork, where there seemed enough going on to sort of disappear into, but here, she felt like all she could do was feel hairy and beastly and wanting to chase squirrels. She didn't even really yet trust herself on a beat; those squirrels just asked for it.

But it was waning, she reminded herself, and in a few days, barring any direct vampire encounters, she'd be feeling better.

Ooh, but maybe she should swing by that bakery with the dog treats again. These were days where the splurging was acceptable. If not completely mandatory.

[[ open, of course, for all caffeinated needs! ]]

colourfulscents.livejournal.com

Angua was sitting by the window of the coffee shop with a cup of tea, not really drinking it much now that it was starting to lose its heat, and just looking out thoughtfully at the snow. It reminded her quite a bit of her home...not Ankh-Morpork, but the great wintry mountains of Uberwald. Typically, she didn't get homesick; there was enough back home to make you sick by itself to just go and get sick from missing it. But she did like the snow and watching it, looking at it, thinking about it, was almost enough to want to inspire her to shapeshift and go rolling around in it, running about, rolling around a little more...

Maybe she wou--

No, Angua. Down girl.

Still, it would have been fun.

[[ open perk is open for all your caffeinated needs! ]]

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

Unaware of any imminent horror in store for him, Vimes was in his office, busy reading over reports from the rain of vanilla yesterday.

Apparently some ~~NPC townie ftw~~ person was claiming it damaged their precious garden and was going to sue.

A garden in winter. Oh yes, Vimes was just going to toss this right in the garbage now and pretend he hadn't seen it lest he need to go use sarcasm on the person.

[[Open staion is open!]]

shiroi_tiger

After the invasion last weekend, Algren had somehow gotten the crazy notion into his head that perhaps there would be some variation in the inventory counts during his shift today.

Possibly. A slight discrepancy that would mean that he'd have something new to mark on his stock sheet. A gun handed out to somebody for self-defence, possibly. Wouldn't that be exciting? The suspense was almost unbearable.

Which was why he'd brought a book to read. He didn't live in suspense near often enough. And anyhow, it wasn't as though his counts were going to change between now and his next shift, either.

[Open Arms is Open.]

gunandcoffee.livejournal.com

The station was the busiest Reese has ever seen it. It almost felt like a real big city PD. Except instead of mob riots they were up against ugly green things with really sharp teeth.

She'd had her own run in with the green things, she'd put two in the chest and two more in the head just to be sure. Reese heard so much of the invasions now that she was finally experiencing one... well, it was a lot weirder experiencing it than just reading about it. She strapped on her kevlar then turn to Ralph, "You told your minions what to do? Patrol the streets and get those ugly things away from the residents."

Ralph nodded.

"Go."

(Open!)

Current Mood: weird

survivesplague.livejournal.com

Kyle was up to two weekly jobs in Fandom now. Not only did he have the always exciting life of a mercenary policeman in a town with no need for either mercenaries or policemen to look forward to, but he also had the slightly less exciting life of a teacher who wasn't scheduled to do any teaching for weeks but who did get to sit on a panel.

And that's why tonight, on his first night working at Caritas, Kyle was determined to do some actual work. "You're going to drink this," he told Tino as he put a bottle of beer on the bar.

Tino saw the lightsaber. He knew what that meant for him if he didn't make a good impression now. He'd spent over a year with Jolee, after all.

[OOC: Hey, lookit this. I have a shift at Caritas again.]

survivesplague.livejournal.com

In order to get a little practice in while waiting for clients, Kyle was making a house of cards on his desk, using the Force to stack the cards.

Honestly, he was cheating there. By the time he got to the third level, the house was about to collapse, but he used the Force to give it some reinforcing.

[OOC: I shun OCD. SHUN IT!]

shiroi_tiger

Inventory.

Yes, inventory had been Algren's activity while at work the last nine weeks out of ten. Yes, the stock had remained relatively untouched that entire time. Yes, he had all of the counts memorized by now.

He was also jingling as he moved from one side of the cases to the other, and he was wearing the most ridiculous hat he'd ever seen, and no matter how many times he attempted to remedy this issue by simply taking the hat off again, he still found himself wearing the same clothing when all was said and done.

And so, inventory.

Inventory, dammit.

[OCD ~~on the waaaay~~ up.]

gunandcoffee.livejournal.com

"Don't worry, mamaan, I'll get there by dinner. Yes, I do realize how far Los Angeles is from Maryland." Reese listened and winced, knowing she couldn't possibly explain how she can be in Fandom one second and LA in the other. Fandom was hard to explain. Hell, half the things she's witnessed or experienced was hard to explain.

"Just trust me, mamaaan, I'll be there." Reese listened as her mother switch to Farsi and threatened the mother of all guilt trips on her. "Okay, I got it. Man bayad beravam, I have work to do! Bedrood!*"

She put the phone down and sighed.

This is why she loved holidays.

Thank God for coffee.

Open!

(*Man bayad beravam - I have to go!; Bedrood - goodbye!)

Current Mood: drained

solesofmyfeet.livejournal.com

So, Vimes hadn't quite gotten around to looking for a place to stay at the moment in the vain hope that damned causeway as they called it would open up and the foul stench of Ankh-Morpork would greet him and he could just bloody well go home. So far, no such luck.

Though, on the plus side, he was almost certain this wasn't some horrible hallucination. How that was a plus was beyond him.

So he was just going to read a few more of these reports from before he arrived to acclimate himself to the city.

"Ralph," He called over to the man in the very odd armor. "Stock up on umbrellas for the station."

At least raining food was more in his comfort zone.

[[Open for your copper needs!]]

Fandom High RPG

About the Game

---       Master Game Index
---       Thinking of Joining?
---       IC Community Tags
---       Application Information
---       Existing Character Directory

For Business Owners/Employees

If changes need to be made to the entry for a fictional business your character owns or works at, please drop a comment right to the entry page for that business, and we'll update it for you ASAP!

If your character is a new business owner, please use the New Business Form to give us your information, and we'll create an entry for the business.

---       All Businesses
---       NPC-owned
---       Completely NPC

In-Character Comms

School and Grounds
---       Fandom High School
---       Staff Lounge
---       TA Lounge
---       Student Dorms

Around the Island
---       Fandom Town
---       Fandom Clinic

Communications
---       Radio News Recaps
---       Student Newspaper
---       IC Social Media Posts

Off-Island Travel
---       FH Trips

Once Upon a Time...
---       FH Wishverse AU

Out-of-Character Comms

---       Main OOC Comm
---       Plot Development
---       OOC-but-IC Fun

⚙

Disclaimer

Fandom High is a not-for-profit text-based game/group writing exercise, featuring fictional characters and settings from a variety of creators, used without permission but for entertainment purposes only.

Navigation

Entries tagged with sam vimes

Fandom High RPG