hadrielmods: (Default)
ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ ([personal profile] hadrielmods) wrote in [community profile] hadriel_logs2017-07-16 10:38 am

Event Log: Stepford Summer

Who: Everyone participating in the event
What: The Stepford Summer event!
Where: Across the city
When: July 16th-July 25th
Warnings: None!

Good morning, neighbor!

On the 16th, everyone wakes up feeling a little more... complete. The sun is shining, your bed is nice and comfortable and when you throw off the blankets, your perfect dog (probably named Spot) is sitting eagerly at your feet, waiting to be fed and walked.

The newspaper smacks against your porch and the paper boy calls out in hello as he cycles off further down the road. Sure, you can't actually read the strange symbols on the paper, but it's nice to have the ritual of it in the first place. Your parent or your sibling or your significant other is busy making pancakes in the kitchen when you come in, filling the room with the smell of delicious cooking. Yum!

The rest of the day is much like this. You straighten your tie, adjust your blazer and head off to work at a normal place, doing normal things. So what if you work with a guy who's actually a demon, or a seven foot tall elf? That's normal, isn't it?

There are cracks in the illusion, of course, but whether you're able to put it together is on you. Why would you want to, anyway? You have so many great relatives and an awesome support system, you're drinking awesome coffee every morning, and maybe you'll treat yourself to some ice cream at night before bed. What could be better?

Certainly not the cave. You don't want to remember that, do you?

► This log covers July 16th-25th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If suburbia is your worst nightmare and you succumb to the pressures of a day to day life, please let us know here.
skelebro: ([h] what up gamers stu here)

sans | ota

[personal profile] skelebro 2017-07-16 05:47 pm (UTC)(link)
hospital; if the world's at large, why should i remain?
He’s got no issue with a life like this. It’s not half as bad as the cannula and the hospital blue sweatpants and the surgical face mask would have you believe. Really, what’s not to love? He’s never in as much peril as he would be if he tried striking out on his own, plus he gets free room and board to boot. Sure, hospital food isn’t the best out there, but it’s impressive, in its own way, the number of flavor configurations they can pull from protein powder. Personally, Sans is of the mind that maybe they’ll need someone to assign some more specific flavors to the misleadingly labeled foodstuffs in a professional sense. "Roast beef" yields a taste that’s more reminiscent of a "mashed potato," and the less said about whatever they put into "chocolate pudding," the better.

It’s not all that bad, honestly. It gets to be its worst whenever he puts the doctors through a little scare or two, which racks up at a rate of about once or twice per month. His vitals go a bit screwy and he kinda loses a few days while they scramble to ensure he doesn’t die from whatever bug he might’ve contracted. His respiratory system ain’t the greatest, and his immune system kinda hates his guts too.

Sans T. Bones is recovering from one such scare, still hooked up to a saline stand as he meanders through the bleached white halls. Gotta be grateful for the cannula up his nostrils for this - cuts the smell of disinfectant and antibacterial soap with the sharp tang of plastic. Just a thoroughly appealing cocktail of interesting smells, right there. It’s still a good day for Sans, all things considered: he’s not fatigued enough to need a wheelchair just yet, which is always nice. The pinch of the needle at the back of his hand, the fat blue veins pumping along there, is a discomfort he’s long since learned to adjust to.

There’s nothing good on TV. Is there ever? Maybe the hospital just doesn't have the channels that show things besides static. Very interesting static, sure, but that's not his bag. So for today, Sans has elected to busy himself with his usual means of passing the time - namely, making as many people laugh as he can.

First stop’s the pediatric ward. He pauses to harass the receptionist some, crack some awful jokes her way, but she doesn’t look to be feeling that particular groove today, so he lets her be. Lotta sick kids in a hospital like this, whether it’s something as small as a cold or a broken arm or something more long-term, and they deserve themselves a comedy routine or two, just to take the edge off.

Lord knows he would’ve loved the same, growing up. But then, he had something like that. He had the best brother ever.

But things like that always change.
football field; gonna find another place, maybe one i can stand
He’s off the saline, he’s out of the danger zone, and he’s in the clear. That in and of itself is cause for a little celebration. His eyes are still misty with the last vestiges of whatever sickness he’s still hacking out of his system, but the hastily scribbled smile is firmly in place atop the face mask hooked around his ears. The occasional glance over his shoulder is a clear indication that he probably shouldn’t be out of the hospital at all right now - that is, if the pale blue hospital scrubs, face mask, and stained sweatpants weren’t just as obvious a giveaway.

But all the same, Sans is in a good mood today. He’s survived another dip into the worrisome and come out smelling...well, maybe not rosy, but near enough to it. The quiet clink of sweating beer bottles in the six-pack swinging at his hip is his victory sentence, and he’s hiking his way on down to the high school’s football field to celebrate his continued existence. Maybe he's not technically supposed to have departed from his bed this soon after a potential calamity, but hey - not in trouble if you don't get caught, right?

He's absolutely aiming to celebrate in his own way, and that way is getting drunk on the high school football field like the irresponsible adult he is. He definitely shouldn't be out of the hospital, but if you catch wind of him...you won't tell anyone, will you?
wildcard; but you still got your words and you got your friends
[I'll match prose or brackets! If you want a closed starter, just let me know or smack me on [plurk.com profile] arrpee!]
notimpervious: (genuine expression of happiness)

Dr. Temperance Brennan | mid-event | at school, ota teachers and students | will match format

[personal profile] notimpervious 2017-07-16 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[It has come to your local biology teacher's attention that a fair number of her students are doing poorly in her class. Clearly this means that she must find another teaching method with which to share with everyone the joys of the human skeleton, which is the unit she is currently teaching.

So today, she can be found in her classroom wearing a rather ridiculous and not entirely accurate costume (minus the gloves, those aren't accurate at all, and she is not here for that). It's missing some bones, you see, but that's why you have her! Dr. Brennan's graduate thesis was on human bones, so there is no one more qualified to share your skeleton's secrets with you. (Unless you're not human, in which case she will point you in the direction of the library, where surely the librarian can procure for you a book with diagrams of your particular species's skeleton!)

She wears this get-up all day, so if you don't catch her before or between classes, you will have a chance to see her and strike up a conversation in the teacher's lounge or a hallway or perhaps the parking lot -- or maybe you're her neighbor and catch a glimpse of her at her house before or after heading to school.

Go on ahead and approach her! She will be grinning ear to ear and more than happy to talk bones with you, or other things if you're not a student or don't care about bones. Which you should. :c We're all skeletons on the inside!]
drabsolutelynot: (Doc)

Rosen | OTA

[personal profile] drabsolutelynot 2017-07-16 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[16th-25th ]

Local Gym:

‘Health is a lifestyle choice’, or at least that is what one of the cheesy posters in his waiting room says. Whether or not it is true it is the motto by which Lee lives his life. He may be pushing 61 but his routine hasn’t changed for the past 30 years: 5:30am start. A bowl of shredded wheat and a banana for breakfast. Then off to the local gym for a two-mile swim in their pool by 6:15. And if all goes according to plan he can shower, change, and get to the office by 7:45, ready for his first appointments of the day.

So if you are also an early riser inclined to hitting the gym, you may bump into the local doc either heading to the water or toweling off after a swim. Or perhaps you’d be interested in a good-hearted race in the pool-lane next to his. He’s old but he’ll give you a swim for your money

At Rosen’s General Practice Clinic:

The clinic is bright and inviting and Lee keeps it clean and tidy. The waiting room has the appropriate number of ‘An Apple a Day’-esque decorations, but not so much so that its smothering. More just a playful nod to his profession and a hope to make the children feel more at ease when they have to come in for shots.

Rosen’s personal office is at the back and he can normally be found in a collared shirt and tie all in easter egg color pastels and, of course, his white coat.

The examination room itself has a pair of comfortable arm chairs in addition to the traditional examination bed and a painting of an owl with large glasses much like Rosen’s own hanging in the corner.

Wildcard
Edited 2017-07-16 18:08 (UTC)
circumitus: nope. nopenopenope. nopenope. nope. (cookies need love like everything does)

Rey.

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-07-16 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ooc: This is going to be a catch-all comment with individual starters below. For more details, feel free to check out Rey's plotting and CR meme comments, or hit me up via any one of these avenues for stuff and things!]
foundafamily: (pic#7644682)

Firo Prochainezo | ota

[personal profile] foundafamily 2017-07-16 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[Anywhere, anytime]

[Wherever you are in your happy town, whenever, there’s a kid stalking down the road toward you. Slouching, hands in his pockets, he may look like he’s in his own little world until he walks right into you. He scowls up at whomever he just bumped into.]

Hey, watch it, will you?

[He’s oddly annoyed, considering there was plenty of space on the street for him to move out of the way… Someone who’s sharp or wary might notice that it’s almost like he went out of his way to run into them.]

[ooc: If you want Firo to pickpocket your character, just mention in the tag what he might grab! Feel free to catch him at it, too.]

[The outskirts or near one of the temples]

[Firo leans against the wall and watches people file past on the street. He hopes that the carefully crafted look of apathy on his face makes him look tough (it probably doesn’t) because the reality is that he’s just bored. So goddamn bored. When you don’t hold down a job, never go to school, and don’t have too many friends, it’s amazing how little you have to fill your day.

So that’s why he’s here right now, people watching.

If he sees someone he knows, he might call out and greet them with a wave.]


[ooc: Will match format. If you’d like to plot out assumed CR or would like another prompt, just let me know by pm or on plurk at [plurk.com profile] crowghostie!]
drabsolutelynot: (Smile)

[personal profile] drabsolutelynot 2017-07-16 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
That is a wonderful costume

[Rosen is on campus today to pick up this years schedule for his annual health talks. As such he is walking with a hefty folder under his arm, offering greetings in his normal awkward manner to those who pass by. Some of the teachers he recognizes, others not.

And the skeleton in a tutu he certainly does not recognize but he offers a friendly smile]

I don't believe we've met. Might you be one of the science teachers?

[He takes a moment to fumble with his papers in order to free a hand for the offer of a handshake]

I'm Dr. Rosen, from the clinic in town.
dedikated: (14 | ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ʀᴜɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋ)

kate galloway. open / maybe closed.

[personal profile] dedikated 2017-07-16 07:18 pm (UTC)(link)
( starters will be in the comments below! if you want to set up anything specific, hit me up at [plurk.com profile] forethought and check out her plotting comment! )
notimpervious: (uplifted by social bonds)

[personal profile] notimpervious 2017-07-16 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, thank you!

[She turns, facing the source of the compliment with a wide, almost childlike grin, and shakes his hand when he offers it.]

Yes, I am. Dr. Temperance Brennan. I teach biology. [Then she takes a step back and holds out her arms, exposing as much of the suit as possible.] Some of my students are struggling with the human skeleton -- not literally the skeleton, but the names and locations of all its bones. I thought a visual aid might be helpful.

[She twirls once. No one can stop her. Someone probably should, but they can't stop her in this instance.]

It is very creative, isn't it?
dedikated: (160 | ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟs ᴡᴏɴ)

high school / office.

[personal profile] dedikated 2017-07-16 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Sitting still doesn't work well for Kate. Even when she's staring down a pile of reports (first three signed off with a "Kid did good", as if that's an adequate summary of her students' reactions to the multitude of exercises she's put them through this year), she's moving, doing squats by the window with a set of dumbbells in hand, pink hair tied back into plaits and cheeks flushed with the effort that comes from having done exercises for far longer than she's actually been writing her reports.

It's lunchtime and she's eyeing her work as if it's a particularly boring assignment, an apple and salad uneaten at the side of her desk and that damned familiar smell of cafeteria food lingering through the halls outside. If there was one place she never saw herself spending another second in once she'd graduated-

Well.

Things change, don't they? Like her hair colour, which is a better talking point than all the things which changed a few years ago, causing her to hang up her shorts in the professional circuit and end up back here.

She braces herself against the wall, as though there's an invisible stool holding her up, leg muscles solid, and wipes sweat from her brow. There's no point thinking about any of that, now. She avoids hanging medals in her office, sticks to the diploma from the modest community college, proof that she is - somehow - qualified to teach.

"Yeah?" If someone comes in, her response is a little delayed, a little late. A little head in the clouds. Or the past. Same difference.
drabsolutelynot: (pic#11481328)

Hospital

[personal profile] drabsolutelynot 2017-07-16 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Rosen comes bearing gifts, more specifically he comes with home cooked food.

Sure, his practice is pretty much a one man show but he still tries to make time for any of his patients who are frequent residents of the hospital. Hospitals tend to be full up, all beds taken, and short on staff who, though they try their best, don't often have any extra supply of 'personal touch'. They can't afford to or something in the big system will get over looked.

So Lee hopes maybe he can fill in even just a tiny bit of what friendliness might be missing.

First he checks Sans' usual room, but upon finding the bed empty he has a pretty good idea where to look. When he can hear cheesy one liners just around the corner he knows he's on the right track. He enters the pediatric ward with a soft smile.

"I thought I might find you here."
hotspurred: (steel plates upon my chest)

Henry Percy | open & closed prompts

[personal profile] hotspurred 2017-07-16 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[This is a catch-all for the duration of the event. Look below for individual prompts, or feel free to post your own wildcard in reply!

Here's a rundown of his Pleasant Valley life.

If you want to plan something with him, contact me at [plurk.com profile] himewakako or hit up my plotting comment.]
dedikated: (68 | ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪʀᴇʏ ᴘᴀᴛʜ)

high school / sports club.

[personal profile] dedikated 2017-07-16 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
The after school sports club tends to be the highlight of Kate's day. Nothing but her and the kids who really love gym class, the ones she doesn't have to wrangle and bark at to run an extra lap or three. Sometimes they do real training, something like the exercises she'd do when she was training to get out of here and go pro. Other days, like today, are ones where it's too warm to really pound tarmac and Kate wants to unwind after what feels like hours of trying to write reports. She's tied her jacket around her waist, carrying red and blue sashes and matching beanbags.

"Reet. Game time." Hey, kids. Punctuated by dropping a blue beanbag on one side of the pitch. "Go warm up." And meanwhile, she'll set these up - three red flags and three blue - across the sides of the pitch. The painted lines work well enough for capture the flag. "Who wants to be red team?"

( Totally open mingle log for anyone who'd join the sports club! Feel free to thread with whoever and try to win! )
the_fourteenth: (33)

Raidou Kuzunoha, aka "Johei" | open

[personal profile] the_fourteenth 2017-07-16 07:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[School - lunchtime]
[It's a nice day out, and Raidou - or in this case, Johei, his actual given name - sits under a tree, reading. It's yet another occult book; today the subject is cryptids of North America. Joining him today, like he does often, is his "dog", Nue. Care to join him?]


[School - class time and track practice]
[Johei is sitting on class, lost in thought. Instead of paying attention, he's either staring out the window or doodling in his notebook. If this is a history or literature class, though, he pays attention a bit more.

In phys ed class, he's all in. He's ruthless in kickball, taking it seriously-
but with a devilish grin on his face. He's having a good time whether he's winning it losing.

After school, Johei is a star member of the track team. He's a great runner and jumper with those long skinny legs of his. If you're on the team and up for some friendly competition, he'd love to race you.]



[At home]
[Johei is home late from practice tonight, but he tries to act like everything is fine. He joins the family at the dinner table and mumbles a hello to them as he fills up his plate. He's totally not going to mention the black eye and split lip he's now sporting. Nope. Nothing bad happened.]
circumitus: Then drank our feelings. I feel feminism delivered. (we ate our feelings)

firehouse. ota.

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-07-16 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)
It's quiet today at the station. No roaring sirens, no stomping footsteps or incoherent background chatter. Most of her colleagues have taken refuge elsewhere, probably in the rec room or sleeping in the barracks.

The garage doors are rolled up, though none of the red trucks within are rolling out and it seems that the mechanics have gone for the day. Instead, the cold, empty place is occupied by one: A woman, dressed in casual stationwear, sitting at the rear of a firetruck. Accompanied only by a sickly feline lacking in an eye and leg. Still, the creature hobbles around with ease, undisturbed by even the loudest cries that summons them to a scene. It just happens to be one of the rare quiet moments.

Despite the frequent nudges to join her colleagues in camaraderie, Rey would much rather sit in the silence and company of the animal, affectionately bumping its bald forehead against the palm of her hand as she strokes between its ears and back. The hole left by the still-recent passing of her mother has soured her heart to the prospect of camaraderie. The silent, rumbling companionship of the stray that the others have taken to calling 'Tripod' (for obvious, apparent reasons) has been all the company she wants at the moment. Even her fiancé has given up on urging her to join him and their friends in some stupid distraction, and has since left her to her lonesome in the garage. It's a sad little scene that is certainly noticeable by anyone passing by, or stopping for whatever reason, be it curiosity or business.

For the most part, Rey regards any passersby with a quick look before returning her attention to the cat, who has crawled into her lap and curled up against her. There is something calming in his purrs and lack of useless words. No My condolences, or I'm sorry for your loss, or any of the other pathetic catchphrases people sprout when they have nothing better to say to someone in their grief.

Who could blame them, though? That's what people are supposed to say when they can't think of anything better. Just recite from a script and be done with it. Obligation over. Can we talk about something else?

No.

No, the quiet is nice. Tripod is nice. Fuck everything else.
circumitus: that pet you just couldn't keep (putting the dog to sleep)

hospital; sob

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-07-16 08:19 pm (UTC)(link)
This is the last place that Rey wants to be. Those murmurs and distant calls and monotonous beeps that go on and on and on, and can't get out of her head, that sick smell of death and medicine clinging to her senses...

Of course, it's a smoky scent that follows her. She's still in her work clothes, the PV firehouse stationwear with its emblem on the back of her shirt. Even when she's not just recently coming from out of a fire, she still carries smoke with her, clinging to her skin and clothes.

It isn't all too busy today, though. Guess Rey has that much to be thankful for. It was quiet the day her mother flatlined as well, so it isn't always a peaceful thing.

She's sitting near the front desk when a patient comes by, trying to humor the receptionist with a joke. Something about his voice is familiar. Did her mother happen to share a room with this man? Maybe. Rey brings a hand to her forehead, both struggling to remember and to try and forget, but the latter just seems too cruel. She doesn't laugh, doesn't smile, not even at the patient's open comic display. But she doesn't cry, either. All her tears are spent.

What now, but to wait while the nurse returns with the remains of her mother's personal belongings? It's why she's here, though she wants nothing more than to put this place far behind her. The smell is already making her sick all over again.
skelebro: ([h] feelin great now. feelin sassy.)

[personal profile] skelebro 2017-07-16 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a chorus of giggles and groans as Sans grins beneath his mask. He's sprawled out on the colorful carpeting without looking much like he's in the mood to attempt getting up anytime soon; that requires effort, goddamnit, and what does he look like to you? Someone who bothers with effort at any point in time?

And hey, speak of the doctor. Sans waves with one lazy hand, the other hooked around the saline stand that's leaking fluid, cool and laminar, into his dehydrated veins.

"'Sup, Doc? You lookin' for me?"

He's, uh, totally and definitely allowed to wander right now. Absolutely.
skelebro: ([h] sans boss fight is just a prank war)

BUCKLE UP

[personal profile] skelebro 2017-07-16 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
It's probably a bad business practice to just - presume that if someone's not laughing at your jokes or even rolling their eyes and groaning, that that's just a straight invitation to keep trying to make them laugh.

But hell, he remembers her. He remembers her visiting the lady a few doors down from him. She'd been a hell of a trooper, right up until the end, laughing like nothing was wrong.

Can't remember her name, but he can remember her mom's. Hell of a lady.

He fetches one hand up along the smooth metal of the saline stand, gripping it tight. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough for the strain to pale the skin of knuckles.

"Missed seein' you around here."

Wow, okay, there's probably more auspicious ways to begin a thing like that.
murderpotato: (Just a dime-store poet)

gren | ota

[personal profile] murderpotato 2017-07-16 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
the witch house

There is a house on the edge of town that's been there since about as far back as anyone can remember-- a little creaky wooden thing with faded paint and a dire need of new shingles on the roof, surrounded by hedges and patchy fences. Rumors have gone around about it for years, about the grumpy recluse who lives there and rarely comes out and the strange shadows that can sometimes be seen in the windows. Sometimes, neighborhood children dare each other to run up and knock at the door, or to throw rocks through the windows or try to get over the hedges. Maybe there are monsters inside, like minotaurs guarding a labyrinth. Maybe there's a dragon's hoard of treasure.

Actually, there's just a solitary monster man who spends his days beekeeping and growing flowers for said bees and only really leaves to go drink at the bar. It's not an exciting life that Gren leads, but it's quiet and he likes not being bothered. He likes taking care of his bees and collecting honey and having as little interaction with other people as is humanly (ha) possible.

It doesn't always work out how he wants, though.

balls in holes

On Friday nights, people go out-- they go on dates or to movies or parties or whatever the hell. The normal social things that normal people do, he doesn't fuckin' know, maybe they go to a malt shop and order milkshakes. Gren prefers to go down to the local dive, order as much whiskey as he has cash for in his wallet, and play pool with himself. Which sounds like it should be dirty, but really only involved sticks, balls, and holes in the most mundane ways possible. Gren's life-- not very exciting, but it prefers it that way.

Sometimes-- very rarely, usually only when some motorist comes in from out of town and his wallet's running low-- he'll play someone. A lifetime of alcohol problems and being a barfly has given him surprising skill in bar games. The missing arm doesn't even really hinder him much at this point; it's an advantage, to be honest, because if he's trying to hustle somebody, a missing arm just makes them think he'll be an easy mark. Who needs two arms when you've got decades of experience?

He's playing 15-ball with himself, sinking the balls in numerical order after the break, one after the other. If he misses, he starts over, re-racks the balls and breaks them again and goes until he gets all of them in without a mistake.

wildcard

If you want something in particular, let me know at [plurk.com profile] inkblotmeringue.
drabsolutelynot: (content forward facing)

[personal profile] drabsolutelynot 2017-07-16 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Lee eases himself into a nearby chair, content for the moment to leave Sans where he lay, after all he seems happy there, and Rosen did not come here to add to the reasons why Sans could feel down.

"I am indeed," He smile smiles and holds up his satchel. "I've brought you some food, thought maybe a bit of a change from the hospital cafeteria."

Then he sets it back down again.

"How are you feeling today, Sans?"
quacked: ([ha] awesome)

duck | open

[personal profile] quacked 2017-07-16 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
most days after school; either in the park, his own frontyard or at the hospital

[ Homework is the least fun part of the day. Okay, maybe not less fun than actually being at school, but at least at school there's not as many distractions. He's been told off a lot for not doing homework, but how is he supposed to do math or history work when his comic books are right here? Still, he does try. Sort of.

After getting home from school, Duck usually lays out his books and worksheets on the grass in his front garden, or sometimes at the park, and lies down on his stomach in front of them. Because his dad (the one and only Wade Wilson) is sick and at the hospital a lot, he does sometimes do his homework there too, either in the waiting room or next to Wade while he's going through his chemo.

Of course, there's not only books and school work with him. He also takes his comics. So, if someone comes across him they're a bit more likely to find him browsing the latest goings on in the Batman or Super Dinosuar universes than finding him solving algebra problems. By now the worksheets are abandoned and cluttered with crossings out, scribbles and doodles of monsters and angry faces.

Whatever. School is dumb, and at least he's reading, right?
]

the weekend; around town

[ Duck is still an active child, full of energy and often playing in the street in front of his house. Unfortunately he can also be an... irresponsible kid, who doesn't always think.

Whether it's accidentally running into someone on his bike, kicking a ball into someone by mistake or simply being too quick to go through with dares other kids give him (one time he stole someone's gnome, and another time he ate dirt, don't tell anyone)... well, he might be a bit of a nuisance kid at times.
]

wildcard!

[ Feel free to hit me with anything else you can think up! ]
Edited 2017-07-16 21:01 (UTC)
kingoftheloonybin: (Default)

Zack Addy + Mid-Event + School Mostly (ota)

[personal profile] kingoftheloonybin 2017-07-16 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[Zack is known for being a bit odd. He teaches the higher level sciences classes as well as an extra curricular engineering class that's offered to juniors and seniors. He's a hard grader but his expectations are always clear and concise.

At lunch, he can be found in his class room, prepping a demonstration for his afternoon class. There are tubes, vials and some strange bubbling liquid that's sitting in the center of the desk beneath a bunsen burner. There is also a device that looks alarmingly like a canon. Anyone passing his classroom will hear a loud pop and then see white foam flying into the hallway.

He might have class outside today...

In the afternoon he can be found sitting at his desk. He offers tutoring after school to any student, in any grade, who feels that they need help in order to pass math or science courses.

Other than school Zack can be seen at the coffee shop picking up his usual order or at the library coming up with new experiments to show off in class. He doesn't like repeating himself and tries to come up with new gizmo's and lessons.]
ishotyouuu: (good to see ya bro)

hospital

[personal profile] ishotyouuu 2017-07-16 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
This would have been much more of an ordeal if it hadn't been for Sans.

Granted, getting shot full of poison and experiencing all manner of lovely side effects isn't exactly a day at the beach in any circumstance, but it's much easier when you've got a sick buddy by your side to lighten the load a little. Lethargic as he is, Sans has been no less than a rock in that regard-- always there with a pun or a well-placed prank to lighten the mood; an emotional panacea to stave off the feelings of boredom and despair both.

Wade has lost himself in the mindless drone of the TV-- Wheel of Fortune, which isn't exactly his first choice, but Pat Sajak will always be preferable to Susan Lucci-- when Sans returns from his most recent escapade. Wade can't stop the smile that stretches from ear to ear at the sight of his hospital friend, nor does he want to. Seeing Sans actually makes him look forward to days spent at the hospital.

"You're back early. What, did Linda do her Nurse Ratched thing and break out the paddle this time, ya lucky stiff?"
requiemshark: (003)

Terrence Ephemra | ota

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-07-16 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Catch-all! Feel free to hit me up at [plurk.com profile] mirrorfaded and my plotting comment is here]
requiemshark: (002)

Coffe Shop

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-07-16 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Should you wander into the local watering hole in search of sweet, sweet caffeine, you might catch a glimpse of Terrence crammed into the corner with a very large mug of coffee and his GED homework. It's not going well. He's in the midst of pouring Red Bull into his coffee.

Someone should probably help him, either with tutoring or drinks that aren't going to give him heart palpitations.]
hotspurred: (hear the sound)

16th; open

[personal profile] hotspurred 2017-07-16 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[As dawn breaks on the morning of the sixteenth Henry wakes with it, a consistently early riser. His wife, Irisviel, sleeps beside him; he smiles to himself as he gets out of bed carefully, aiming not to wake her.

He assumes that the twins, Madoka and Nico, are also asleep. But their eldest son, Akira, is much more difficult to predict. Still, he does not hear the sounds of activity as he heads to the bathroom for a shower.

It's a Sunday so he needs to get to the stables and finish his morning tasks before he heads to church for the usual service. He's never demanded that his family attend with him. But he does expect everyone to be around for Sunday dinner, including his siblings Cecily and Rome — provided that Rome is not on shift. He adds calling them both to his mental to-do list.

While he washes, he runs through his plans for the week ahead. What riding lessons he is booked to teach. Tuesday and Thursday's running sessions. He and Saber have a Ren Faire display coming up, so that means additional practice time at her fencing school and his stables. Over breakfast he'll discover what Irisviel and their children have going on, so he can work around their schedules. He needs to pay the jewellers a visit.

But his very first task for the day after he's cleaned and dressed will be to check his garden for any signs of sabotage, and perhaps take advantage of the early hour to scout out Rydia's in turn.]