Post by nix on Jun 9, 2009 0:22:27 GMT 1
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I BEEN ROAMIN' AROUND ,
always lookin' down at all i see
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ALEXANDRA VALKYRIE VAENE[/center]
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PAINTED FACES FILL ,
[/font]PAINTED FACES FILL ,
the spaces i can't reach
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NICKNAMES: Her extensive list of nicknames is hardly worth the mental effort, so I¡¯ll just toss out a few. She typically introduces herself as Professor Ribbons or simply Alex Ribbons. Friends know her as Alex, enemies know her as Ribbons or Sceleta, and there are a million other names between. She responds to just about anything from adults and students alike. One thing you should note is that you are never to so much as think about pondering a hint of the name Dolov if you value your current bodily state.
AGE: Thirty-Nine
YEAR: N/A
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual, outside of a few drunken incidents.
D.O.B.: October Thirty-First, 1983
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: Wilde¡¯s Alternative (American)
ALLEGIANCE: Now this is a bit of a problem. For a girl who loves to stand just on the side and watch things play out just like they always do (annoyingly predictable, you know), who refuses to step in outside of certain moments, how to sway one way or the other? She finds herself morally opposed to and disgusted by all those affiliated with the elitists (I hope they crowd all the sycophants into one tiny, frilly handbasket down to hell), though as of yet she has been unwilling to openly enter into the fray of Order against others. And then there¡¯s the question of their dodgy headmaster (Ahem, Mr. December of the ¡®Megalo¡¯ calendar himself). But then again, some people just need their ass kicked, hard, which has tossed right over the fence to the Order of the Phoenix side.
PROFESSION: Dueling Professor, Head of Gryffindor
WAND TYPE: Eleven inches of hawthorn with a core of sphinx hair braided with loves lies bleeding
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YOU KNOW THAT I ,
[/font]YOU KNOW THAT I ,
could use somebody
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EYE COLOUR: Changing¡ªsee general description
HEIGHT: 5¡¯8¡±
WEIGHT: Typically stays in 140s range
BODY TYPE: Toned
VOICE: Irish accent, though she¡¯s rather proficient at changing it when mocking something unlucky person
PERSONAL STYLE: Alex¡¯s style is rather inconsistent aside from the fact that it typically has either an edge to it or a Victorian quality. Representing the former, she has many leather and metal items crafted outside of stores or by herself, while representing the latter we see many antiques such as an old cameo, lace chokers, and a silver necklace with an antique pendent of sapphire and diamond.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Alexandra is naturally built slimly, though she¡¯s built up an impressive amount of muscle over the years. Her curves are well filled out despite slimness otherwise, and her arms, torso, and calves are particularly well muscled. She has the ability to look rather delicate, a deceiving feature which has earned more than one silly boy multiple broken bones. Alex¡¯s hair is of a dark brown shade, appearing a somewhere between red and brown, and an auburn-orange overtone when in the sun. It¡¯s rather thick and falls an inch or two below her shoulder blades when straightened, though is typically seen in soft or tighter waves. It is usually pulled back while working, flying, or brewing, and left down outside of that. Except, of course, when she¡¯s lurking on someone, in which case it¡¯s tightly braided. Every few days you might see a pair of chopsticks or a comb holding it up, and that¡¯s always quite lovely. She hardly ever does anything much more with it unless it¡¯s a special occasion.
Her irises are an odd mixture of brown edged with a dark, almost electric blue. In dark light, they typically appear either entirely dark brown or black, while in bright light their unusual coloring is quite clear. Alex tends to convey emotions with her eyes, so they will either be highly expressive or, if she has some disinterest in having people know her feelings, highly impassive.
Alex has a myriad of distinguishing features. To begin with, a very light scar following the left side of her jaw line, a tiny scar on her knee from when she was a child, a knife scar between her breasts, a mark on her left bicep, two scars that look like welts and encircle her wrists, and two curse scars across her torso from the second war. In addition to these markings, she has several tattoos that she¡¯s gathered throughout her life. The first, on the inside of her left thigh, reads ¡®Kyrie eleison¡¯ (yeah, she's one of those irony lovers). The second, a bit longer, reads: "Ad somnum non cantero. Insusurrero et expectero te ciere ab terror animi mei", which translates roughly to: "I would not sing you to sleep. I would whisper [in your ear] and hope the terror in my heart moves you." These two sentences are printed in astoundingly tiny, barely-legible-without-a-magnifying-glass script, and are found encircling her right ankle. The third is found on the inside of her right wrist; a sparrow lies there, wings spread, and on the inside of her left wrist is an intricate Celtic knot. A black ankh, an Egyptian symbol representing life and her father¡¯s heritage, is found on her lower left ribs.
She also wears several rings, each with its own significance, and every now and then a necklace aside from the one she always wears. This necklace she always wears is on a rather long chain, and the pendant is made of opal. It¡¯s normally kept tucked inside her shirt.
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AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
[/font]AND ALL YOU KNOW ,
and how you speak
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[li] OotP, her job
[/li][li] Her animals
[/li][li] Reading
[/li][li] Night
[/li][li] Hufflepuff (they give her the fewest headaches) and Gryffindor (they have a certain entertainment value)
[/li][li] Studying mythology, fables, folktales, legends of all cultures
[/li][li] Balconies, verandas
[/li][li] Hidden rooms and passageways
[/li][li] Being the first to figure something out
[/li][li] Dancing (particularly mamboing), parties, clubs
[/li][li] Visiting home
[/li][li] Thunderstorms, turbulent weather
[/li][li] Honesty (in some respects)
[/li][li] Lies (again, in some respects)
[/li][li] One-night-stands (getting attached always seems to lead to ¡°some fresh hell¡±)
[/li][li] Studying revolutions, secret societies, espionage, and general political and international subterfuge
[/li][li] Playing violin/viola/cello
[/li][li] Room of Requirement
[/li][li] Hidden causes
[/li][li] Quotes
[/li][li] Laughing
[/li][li] Annoying and generally arousing the suspicion of her coworkers
[/li][li] Making others laugh
[/li][li] Being persuasive
[/li][li] Being sneaky
[/li][li] Being involved
[/li][li] Land/Forests
[/li][li] Jewelry
[/li][li] Theater
[/li][li] Fire¡ªShe¡¯s a bit of a pyromaniac.
[/li][li] Twirling in a circle until you get just dizzy enough to hit that level of profoundness where you astound both yourself and everyone around you.
[/li][li] Flying
[/li][li] New broom smell
[/li][li] Unsolved mysteries, History¡¯s Mysteries or otherwise (especially when she ends up solving them)
[/li][li] When people come to her for advice
[/li][li] Studying Pagan traditions
[/li][li] Egyptology, Mummies
[/li][li]Photography, photographs
[/li][li] Movies/Plays
[/li][li] Old Buildings/Castles/Theatres
[/li][li] Amaretto
[/li][li]Spells related to illusion
[/li][li]Outlets for her emotion and thoughts
[/li][li] Psychology
[/li][li]Truth or Dare
[/li][li]Halloween
[/li][li]The occasional ¡®challenge¡¯
[/li][li]Languages
[/li][li]Art
[/li][li]Dark (usually)
CHARACTER DISLIKES:
[/li][li] Damalis. Oh, how she¡¯d love a chance at him. She can see it sometimes, herself perhaps cheerily tipping poison into his morning tea. Her hand wouldn¡¯t even shake.
[/li][li] The oily bastards who caused this situation. She¡¯d give them a helluva time, too.
[/li][li]Stressful coworkers
[/li][li]Fights with friends
[/li][li]Spiders
[/li][li]Mondays
[/li][li]Those who think they can ¡®control¡¯ her. (Ha. Haha.)
[/li][li]People who think they can bribe their way out of things
[/li][li]People who believe they¡¯re above the law
[/li][li]Over-Dues
[/li][li]Homophobia
[/li][li]Unexpected loud noises
[/li][li]Being wrong
[/li][li]Being told what to do
[/li][li]Being spoken down to
[/li][li]Being tricked
[/li][li]Attempted Assault Directed Toward Herself (which really pisses her off)
[/li][li]People That Are Too Peppy
[/li][li]Salespeople
[/li][li]Mayonnaise
[/li][li]Drugs
[/li][li]Drugdealers
[/li][li]Bright Light
[/li][li] The cold
[/li][li] People who talk excessively about boring subjects. Those who talk gossip excessively, however, are quite welcome in her circle.
[/li][li] Over exaggeration
[/li][li] Spineless wishy-washy bastards
[/li][li] Feeling pressured to make a decision. She typically reacts rather violently to ultimatums.
[/li][li] Being touched without warning. You are quite likely to find life very unpleasant should you do this.
[/li][li]Arrogance/smugness
[/li][li] Water you can¡¯t see the bottom of
[/li][li] Glass bottom boats
[/li][li] Looking out windows after dark
[/li][li] Subjugation, flattery, bribery, and begging all make her skin crawl. She finds them vile and loathsome and it makes her so vehemently angry to see them she has difficulty controlling herself. However, this refers to these things in their extreme. A candybar bribery here and a well-used but one-time-event compliment are not things that rouse her.
[/li][li] People who give no effort in an endeavor, who don¡¯t try when they see the tiniest hint of opposition. This significantly raises the odds of her kicking their ridiculous little hind-ends.
[/li][li] Petulance
[/li][li] Apathy
[/li][li]Feeling as if hands are restrained (also highly effective in pissing her off & can cause panic attacks)
GOALS:
[/li][li] Do what she can for the Order
[/li][li]Exact a nice bit of revenge on Damalis
[/li][li]Entertain and inspire her students, because she¡¯s petrified of both herself and her students becoming apathetic and unemotional.
[/li][li] Not stumble down the same drugged, sedated path her mother did
BOGGART: To ¡°let the boggart out of the closet¡±, as they say, is for her to see herself as a sickly, weak little wraith curled or strung out on the floor before her and flinching away from the light. You can easily see the dilated pupils, the blackeye, the bruises from passing out without warning and falling down stairs. The animalistic curl of her fingers is ugly and mean as they reach out desperately, accompanied by a sadistic, dirty smirk. Smeared lipstick and hateful eyes face her from the floor, and turn her heart to ice with anger and the subconscious fear that she¡¯s pushed so far down inside herself she¡¯s almost forgotten about it. Whenever reminded of this fear, she becomes terse and snappish.
PATRONUS: Armur Tiger¡ª While this may seem an obvious symbol of power and strength, and definitely more than a bit helpful when it comes to warding off the unwanted, it is her Patronus for other reasons than the obvious. To her the tiger is a wild thing that can be calm and kind to its own, but is also always very watchful and quick to detect danger in anything, and certainly quick to react and eradicate it. These are qualities she hopes for in herself. She tends to hold to the deeper meanings in things rather than what they first appear to be, and likes the idea that something naturally wild could also be naturally stealthy and slick. And on a shallower note, she likes that her Patronus goes straight over the heads of the more thick-headed people.
DEMENTOR: Well, well. This one can¡¯t be hard to come up with. The heart-stopping fear. The rush of adrenaline. The thud of bags and a trunk on the ground, heavy and dull. Like a clock, she remembers thinking vaguely. Like a clock, ticking, running out, an hourglass almost empty, that¡¯s the sound of sand falling. Finding her husband¡¯s body, the horror that flooded her, choked her more efficiently than any water ever could have. The pure, searing rage that ripped through her as she saw Damalis¡¯s twisted smile as he disappeared, leaving his name neat and tidy without even having to wash the blood from his hands, the anger she felt, the revenge that she wanted immediately, because he had touched something he had no right to touch, taken something he had no right to take. That bitter taste, it never really washes out.
AMORENTIA: Alex¡¯s Amortentia contains several seemingly unrelated things. Honeysuckle and sandalwood represent a connection with nature and the sturdiness of forest, which is one of her favorite places. The scent of books is next, representative of her love of books and knowledge and the ability to delve into different worlds just by opening one. To finish off, mixture of leather and fire brings slightly wilder and more mysterious elements into the equation as well as a reminder of her beginnings.
PERSONALITY:
Strengths:
[/li][li]Temerarity, bravery, adventurousness
[/li][li]Bluntness(on occasion) and her sharp tongue.
[/li][li]Intelligent and quite cunning. Typically lumped in with these two are also her secret-keeping and watchfulness
[/li][li]Witty, personable/charismatic. It¡¯s not hard for her to draw people in.
[/li][li]If you're going to caught doing something bad, make sure do drag her in with you. She has an amazing ability to think on her feet and can talk her way of out of just about anything when she needs to.
[/li][li]Good at handling stressful situations/crises. She just takes over and gets what needs to be done, done.
[/li][li]She¡¯s (usually) levelheaded
[/li][li]Problem-Solving and Persuasion Skills
[/li][li]Defending herself or others
Weaknesses:
[/li][li] Can become resentful and jealous rather easily.
[/li][li] Can become compulsive and obsessive when pushed too far or when highly excited
[/li][li]That sharp tongue of hers? Yeah, it tends to seriously piss people off.
[/li][li]Can be aroused to ferocious anger
[/li][li]Sometimes reacts rather violently if she feels she or her friends are threatened
[/li][li]Tendency to hold grudges
[/li][li] Is sometimes overly defensive/protective
[/li][li] As an extension of above, she can be a little hasty to jump to violent means in response. Such reactions are quickly (and rather annoyingly) becoming reflexive. One might be careful to remember this when considering surprising her. As you know, to a hammer, everything looks like a nail, meaning: to a surprised Alex, everything looks like an ass to kick.
[/li][li]She can be horribly stubborn when she believes she¡¯s right.
[/li][li] Alex hates apologizing to rather absurd degree.
Alex Vaene makes it a point to know all she can about the people and situations surrounding her. She¡¯s up for joking and fun, but if you do mess with her in a non-teasing way, you can be sure it won¡¯t be for long, and she doesn¡¯t let it distract from student progress. She can be amazingly nice and you can feel completely secure with her, which is her nature with the majority of the populace, or she¡¯ll be making you feel like you¡¯re getting closer and closer to somewhere you don¡¯t want to be.
She¡¯s completely dependable in every way, and if you¡¯re stuck, she¡¯ll get you out of the rut in a flash. She¡¯s good at understanding and connecting with people of all ages. She¡¯s very versatile, almost a split personality, except without all the strange psychopathic killings. As I¡¯ve said before, very dependable when you need it most, but if you¡¯re on her bad side, she¡¯ll rip the rug out from underneath and have you hexed before you know you¡¯re on the ground (Metaphorically speaking, if you¡¯re lucky).
Alex, at most times, simply holds an air of defiance. She dislikes feeling trapped by social norms. She¡¯s normally a very stable person, but can at times be volatile. She¡¯s the person that close friends go to for advice and others go to for a good time. She can harness her abundant energy constructively, tempering her self-confidence with shrewdness and her ambition with magnanimity toward others provided she likes them. As another character flaw, she can be blunt to those she dislikes to the point cruelty. In fact, she is not above expressing vindictiveness in deliberate cruelty.
She can be too demanding, too unforgiving of faults in others that she dislikes, perhaps because she is not aware of the shortcomings within herself, and may extravagantly express her self-disgust in unreasonable resentment against her fellows. She does, however, make an excellent friend, provided that her companions do nothing to skewer her trust. She can react rather violently if she feels that she or someone/something important to her is threatened, and is horribly stubborn when she believes she¡¯s right. No, really. The mules get jealous sometimes. She has a tendency to become angry quickly, without warning, and with a crippling intensity, though because of this she¡¯s become excellent at keeping a cool head and an air of indifference and sarcasm that can be quite maddening.
Alex is certainly not afraid to get physical, either, or I suppose ¡°get magical¡± would be the appropriate equivalent. She practices dueling often, enjoys the rush it gives her, and is the teacher most likely to be seen levitating and dabbling about to relieve boredom, often involving students in little excursions and adventures.
Her sensitivity, together with a propensity for extreme likes and dislikes, make her quick to detect insult or injury to herself (often when none is intended) and easily aroused to rather ferocious anger. This may express itself in such destructive speech or action that she makes lifelong enemies by her outspokenness, for she finds it difficult not to be overly critical of anything or anyone to whom she takes a dislike.
Even when Alex appears self-controlled and calm there is a seething intensity of emotional energy under the placid exterior. She is like the volcano not far under the surface of a calm sea; it may burst into eruption at any moment. But those of us who are particularly perceptive will be aware of the harnessed aggression, the immense forcefulness, magnetic intensity, and often strangely hypnotic personality under the tranquil, but watchful composure she has.
In conventional social gatherings (meaning when she¡¯s willing to be there) she is pleasant to be with, thoughtful in conversation, dignified, and reserved, yet affable and courteous; she possess penetrating eyes which make her shyer companions feel naked and defenseless before them. If she¡¯s not willing to be there, she can come off as a bit.. well, politely venomous, I suppose, and the sarcasm really comes out. She¡¯s creative and imaginative, perhaps overly so, and sees through people rather well.
Now we¡¯ll have a few more words about her kinder side. Alex is always ready to help someone if she¡¯s needed, and often when she¡¯s not needed. Well, not wanted would be more accurate. Come hell or high water, when Alex finds something or someone that¡¯s in serious trouble, she won¡¯t let go. Her friends and students know that her door¡¯s open, night and day, and they can talk about whatever they want to with her. Another thing is Alex is fun loving. She'll go out of her way to provide a good time for herself and others, and she's always ready with a hilarious side comment or with a burst of out-goingness. She really knows how to have and show a give a good time, bar dancing and all. However, with others she can be the center of attention one minute, and the next she¡¯ll be in a corner, looking for something amiss with someone. That¡¯s another odd quirk about her. She loves watching people, and also making up back story. She¡¯ll make up back stories behind looks, touches, glances; she does this for characters on TV and in movies as well as for real people. We¡¯ll just call it an outlet for her creativity. And the thing about it all is, she¡¯s usually right as long as the story isn¡¯t completely off the wall. With real people, that is. Another trait that she¡¯s picked up is reading body language as well as looks.
Alex has been referred to as ¡®an equal opportunity slut¡¯ if she gets drunk, but you shouldn¡¯t believe everything you hear. She can be a little, well, friendly, but for the most part she¡¯s a volatile drunk, moving between the extremes of anger, lust, and happiness. She holds her drink well, though, and it takes quite a while for her to actually get drunk. She also believes in several old Irish superstitions, such as a relative will die if a bird flies into your window or door and dies as a result of it, a broom falling of its own accord means company¡¯s coming, and a ring around the moon means trouble. She has thing for animals and a penchant for fierce loyalty. For all her shortcomings, she¡¯s got a quick mind, astounding memory, sharp tongue, profound perception, and is good at improvising and lying when she has to be; she doesn¡¯t waste a bit of any of her talents and makes the best she can with her weaknesses.
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COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
[/font]COUNTLESS LOVERS ,
under cover of the streets
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MOTHER: Seraphim Vaene ¨U Deceased
BROTHER(S): N/A
SISTER(S): N/A
OTHER: James Ribbons ¨U Healer, resides in Ireland
BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood
HOMETOWN: Small village in Galway Bay, County Galway, Ireland
CURRENT RESIDENCE: The estate that she now occupies is located in Southend-on-Sea, in Essex County of England. It began as her husband¡¯s and ownership passed to her upon his death.
BIOGRAPHY: ¡°My thoughts? Well love, we¡¯d have to do some serious editing to this interview if we delve too deeply here, but I¡¯ll try for you. My history on the whole is a tumultuous collection of folly, jubilation, hijinx, and hoaxes¡ Elaborate, you say? Well, fine dearie, but you¡¯re not going to like it a¡¯tall. To begin with, there was Ireland. Lovely country, that; does a lot of work with green, you know. We were part of this family of Travellers, gypsies if you will. Ireland was where my mum met my father, an apparently dual-natured bloke of both charming and revolting personas. I came along of that misadventure, which I often come to the conclusion in my ponderings was bloody stupid of my mother, but then again I can¡¯t protest too much, as I¡¯d be rather bored if she hadn¡¯t been such. You see, I doubt there¡¯s an awful lot to occupy one¡¯s cerebellum when non-extant. However, my father turned out to be less of a degenerate that practically everyone originally thought. I have very few memories of him for, you see, he wasn¡¯t around a terribly long time. He was shot in the name of Ireland¡¯s civil war when I was a child. But that¡¯s really not a bloody bit of your business and you¡¯re lucky I don¡¯t toss you out on your arse for it. So, anyway, then came the move from Ireland, encouraged by my uncle after my mother began coming up with one enterprising dream and delusion after another, as she took one drug after another. He thought a change of scenery might help my dear, feckless mother, but there wasn¡¯t a change. I could elaborate, but it would be long and ugly and wake the neighbors by barking in the middle of the night, so I won¡¯t. Well anyway, from there, I enrolled in a wizarding school in America, made friends, so-on and so-forth. Things continued rather uneventfully until my graduation, at which time I took a job as a teaching assistant at a local wizarding university. I had taken a deep interest in wizarding combat and warfare, and dueling and potions were my preferred areas of study. I married to a man named Musa Dolov, who I met in London on a visit. He¡¯s how I ended up in back in Europe, in fact. After we married, we moved to his estate in Essex County, England. And you see, I can hardly imagine being more in love, but his family was influential and outspoken, and he was killled in the name of blood prejudices two years after we were married. You know something? People are fucked up; all them might as well go ahead and start decorating the handbasket they¡¯ll ride to hell in on the day they can form anything more complicated than monosyllables. They will forever come up with newer and more depraved ways of offing each other, of poking prodding at one another. Well, anyway¡ªQuit fidgeting, you spineless sheep¡¯s bladder. No, I can see that you are nervous; tie is loosened, drawer open where you probably hide the schnapps (which I expect a fair portion of at the end of this), chewing the inside of your cheek like some chipmunk who¡¯s forgotten his Ritalin. Alright, fine, back to me. But go ahead and start cracking open that bottle. After the dust settled after my husband¡¯s murder, I couldn¡¯t very well mope about on my ass pondering further mental holocaust, lest I go absolutely off my rocker and found a commune specializing in the handmade manufacture of snapping tea cozies, and I couldn¡¯t stay there with those old bitties twittering about me and if I was getting the proper daily intake of crumpets and piety, so I picked up and moved to our American estate. Following in the vein of my work before his murder, I found my way to Hogwarts. I was given a position as the dueling professor, and upon the unfortunate forced retirement (as he no longer had the required number of limbs) of the former head, I eventually gained the position of head of Gryffindor. I enjoy working with students and with my colleagues (at least when they¡¯re not being entirely thick). But along came a spider with lots of eyes and a hand in everything. Or leg, I suppose, but let¡¯s have some poetic license, hm? Dear Headmaster Rowan has kept a close eye and tight rein on things, but my concern is who is keeping an eye on him and just how much free rein he¡¯s been given. Hogwarts has withstood drastic and frightening changes before, but I¡¯d prefer that it not have to again. Not to mention, his hair is dreadful for his profession, which makes me lose all respect for him as the evil genius I suspect him to be, for what is an evil genius if not a paradigm of perfection in regards to hair standing on end? So here I am, working as the dueling professor and Gryffindor head, considering thwarting of a major evil plot that I¡¯m not entirely sure exists, and waiting for schnapps. Any questions, love?¡±
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I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
[/font]I HOPE IT'S GONNA MAKE ,
you notice someone like me,
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RP EXPERIENCE: Nine-ish years
HOW YOU FOUND US: Site ad
OTHER CHARACTERS: None
RP SAMPLE:
¡°Well, should this be a hallucination, you¡¯ve chosen quite poorly in your subject matter. First of all, I am likely the one person in your history most capable of and most inclined to draw and quarter you and keep you as a trophy under my stairs. In addition, if this a hallucination, you have, without a doubt, worked entirely too hard for a collection of pages upon pages comprised of highly infuriating instructions and middle-management delusions that will probably end up pummeled against various walls and ultimately incinerated at the denouement of the whole business.¡±
¡°However, the lack of spine showed in quavering away from ideas outlawed by the government in your own hallucination while rummaging through a pile of contraband is, though slightly repulsive on an intellectual and psychological plane, marginally amusing. Enough so to negate your poor taste, or at least distract my thoughts from it if only momentarily.¡± This time Alex indicated the boxed ¡°Sugar and Spice¡± DVD set at his side.
The man seemed struck, dumbfounded, bemused, and a shitload of other adjectives to further describe what appeared to be his state of shock at the necessity of reconstructing a world that had been entirely convoluted in the last few seconds¡ªan interesting point, this state of cognitive dissonance due to a single person, when the victim had already been through a nuclear holocaust. Well. It¡¯s nice to find your place in the world. More than a tad refreshing, really, this niche. The nuclear holocaust bit didn¡¯t phase you, but I show up and it¡¯s all shot to hell¡ I like it.
¡°Hm? Oh, a cockroach? Well, yes, perhaps, and actually quite likely, but that rouses two further bones of contention. The first of these is the reiteration that it must be bloody terrible rummaging around in that brain of yours for so few morsels of imagination to contribute to the obviously Herculean effort of hallucination you¡¯re putting forth. Second, considering my being a cockroach, you¡¯re in quite the muck-up, as you have survived as well and still seem to have somehow surpassed a cockroach¡¯s vileness and nearness to vermin. A tip of my hat to you, sir, and those who¡¯ve educated you.¡±
Her eyes traveled up and down again, and she took on a bored air as she reached for her belt, flashing the molded sheet of metal. ¡°And best for last: the lunatics¡ªwe seem to have gathered the whole lot of them between our collections¡ªhanded me a badge. It seems as though the concussion from nuclear blast has resulted in lingering governmental fallacies, fuck-ups, and the like. Don¡¯t so much mind, of course; I rather enjoy being an oversight. However, even with such idiocy rampaging and rampant, I still fail to see how the obviously questionable combination of handcuffs and yourself managed to slip through the cracks, large and unsupervised though they may have been.¡± And on that note, she turned to retrieve her box of contraband.
¡°Well,¡± she began pensively over her shoulder, ¡°I do suppose I should thank you. You¡¯ve no idea how long it would take to break in a new bitch.¡± Her blas¨¦ expression twisted back up into a smirk as she faced him again, box in hand. ¡°Though this time, there¡¯s no officer to call for, hm? And it seems we have handcuffs aplenty.¡± It seemed she was always finding this man mid-rant, interrupting the cacophony of contraband-coffee-fueled rage, and the second she set so much as a toe into his line of sight, he made an immediate downward shift into ¡°Symphony in Knocked Flat¡± or fell to a miraculously long-winded digression punctuated by a string of expletives which incorporated¡ªwithout prologue or explanation¡ªeverything from the political to the mythical and sometimes a appalling combination of the two (as in the case of the politically correct politician¡ªwhat fun is to be found there?).
Of course, none of this is to say that Alex didn¡¯t enjoy the occasional run-in with Mordecai Craven. Even before the wars, he and his constantly livid musings had been a glaring spot of amusement (in an off-with-his-head manner) in her day, tantamount to the enjoyment that The Great Unwashed garnered from watching an ape tap dance about in a coat and tails. However, Mort was also an interesting sort of reality check, creating a personification of the quote, ¡°At any street corner, the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face.¡± Without fail, he was always delighted to provide just such a street corner for any face that found itself wanting. In addition, he reminded her of, ¡°Exit, pursued by a bear,¡± but that is a tangent for another day when we have more time, more coffee, and many more college kids desperate for work demonstrating an abstract idea through interpretive dance (those unwilling to have a bit of buckshot moving toward them need not apply).
Though perhaps you lot are a lost. Yes? Well, allow me to draw you poor little lambs back to the herd. As you have hopefully gathered, these two have met before. In fact, they¡¯ve met multiple times, but I¡¯ll give you a brief snapshot of their first meeting, which more or less defined the remainder of their relationship prior to the war. Allow me to set the scene, you future slabs of brisket, you. Alex was virtually the same, though Mort looked a bit different. Now, as Alex thinks of him, he¡¯s much akin to that little asshole, Rolf, from the horrid Sound of Music (which Alex does not, in fact, find to be so horrid¡ªmeaning it resides in her guilty pleasure collection under the third floorboard from the west wall in her living room). But back then¡ªwell, suffice to say that his hair suffered a good deal more product and Benjamin Franklin-themed outings.
Now, the view swings to the almost-empty break room of a British police building. An unidentified bum is in full view of all who enter, and the top half of the body that we presume is attached appears to have been consumed by the absolute darkness and dust bunnies that lurk behind vending machines the world over. The owner of said bum is blissfully unaware of the recalcitrant evil that is about to enter his presence, but God has assumed he will take it in stride. This is God¡¯s first mistake, following the whole Genesis business way back when, and is likely the start of the slippery downhill slide to nuclear war. The pay-no-attention-to-the-man-behind-the-curtain philosophy is about to be irrevocably shattered.
Well, anyway, back to the point. In through the door walks Inspector Alexandra Vaene, and her stride that is at first purposeful falters as she does a double-take in the direction of the vending area. She approaches the UAO (unidentified arselike object) silently, her shift from nonchalant to stealth disturbingly quick as the prey is caught unawares. ¡°Dropped the soap, did you?¡± Mort, startled by the malicious presence he suddenly feels, sits up too quickly in his frisson, slamming his head into a shelf and letting forth a stream of swears that would have earned him a gold star from Lucifer.
And so it begins. Due to the execrable verbal warfare and offensive hand gestures that ensued, visiting officials were unable to obtain their midmorning snacks, leading to a particularly nasty international teleconference, and so on and so forth until countries were quite ready to blow each other to bits. So here we are, folks. Try to stay out of the fray, as those waivers explicitly stated that we¡¯re not responsible for any limbs lost outside of the touring trolley.[/QUOTE]
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OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
[/font]OFF IN THE NIGHT ,
while you live it up
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This template was made by Cate aka Girl Talkk
of Caution Bby!. Lyrics ("Use Somebody" Kings of Leon.
of Caution Bby!. Lyrics ("Use Somebody" Kings of Leon.
