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flyakateI was sitting here checking my email and had a total Elizabethtown moment (Younger Sister and I watched it a couple days ago and it's so corny and mildly terrible, but great just the same) when Orlando Bloom has just left tons of messages on his phone and sits on his couch and waves his hands at his phone saying "Caaaalll me baaaaack".
I'd like to get emailed back by the job I applied for. I know I sent this last night, but still. Instant gratification, please :o)
Still, in more pressing matters, I need to get my butt in gear and pack 'cause we're moving tomorrow. Although, seeing as a bed is most likely coming from CT along with all my junk from NYC, it's mostly clothes and stuff with an inflatable mattress. But still.
A while back, people were doing a "post from your WiPs" meme. Here are some, for great (?) amusement.
That Feeling You Can Only Say in French (O11/12 for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
doitillegally, how Danny and Rusty know LaMarc)
“Guess they still aren’t big fans, huh, Saul?” Danny leans back against the couch cushions, trying to keep his voice light.”
“Dammit, Danny, you two sneaked off with several million and change belonging to them and theirs two months ago. Were you hoping they’d forget?” Saul snaps.
“They were sloppy!” is Rusty’s addition to the conversation he can’t hear. From Saul’s unintelligible mumble, he hears it, and agrees.
“Either way, they’ve decided that you and Rusty need to be taught a little lesson, and seeing as they have enough money to convince some not very nice people of the same, it’d probably be safer for you two to take a little vacation.”
*
In the Blood (SPN/O11, Casefile with capers, oh boy!)
“So how is driving faster solving anything? You’re thinking we can outrun the thing in our own backseat?” Even though Rusty was growing more and more nervous about the thing (beast) in the car, a large part of him knew that they couldn’t get rid of it. It was the job, and if they told Reuben that they’d stolen a painting but left it by the side of the road because it was growling? They would never hear the end of it.
“No, but there has to be someplace we can… secure this thing while we call Reuben. Because I don’t think I can yell at him and drive at the same time.”
Rusty thought a moment, nodded, and reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” asked Danny, taking the next exit quickly and efficiently, if a little roughly.
“You said that you can’t drive and yell at the same time. You drive. I’ll start with the yelling.”
*
From Texas, With Love (forspn_harlequin, sort of stalled at the moment)
Your middle name is Edward, you’re right handed except the time in sixth grade when you broke your arm made you a little ambi-dextrous. You hate dark chocolate and always drink your coffee with two sugars,” here the guy slanted a look down at the bartop, where the empty packets sat.
Sam felt his fingers grip the cup, whether to shatter it or throw it, he wasn’t sure.
“What the fuck?” he managed. This was either the weirdest pick-up in history or something seriously bad shit was about to go down.
“Oh, and you’re the younger brother of Dean Winchester.” He flipped a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and gestured to Sam. Tilting his head in the dim light, Sam could make out the words cordially invited to the wedding of Dean Winchester and but he didn’t wait to read more.
“Son of a bitch,” and now Sam could barely get the words out because he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, and so rests his fists on the bar with a sharp sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Alex look up from the down to bar to stare at him. Sam forces himself to swallow, talk a little quieter.
“Who are you, and what the fuck are you doing here?”
*
Untitled episode tag to "The Tao of Rodney", hopefully to be McShep
When Rodney was little, someone had told him, “always learn from your mistakes”. It might have been his mom, or maybe just his piano teacher, right before she said he didn’t have the heart to play professionally. Either way, the Monday after Carson discharges him from the infirmary finds Rodney with a large pad of paper (blank) and a handful of pens (blue) that he stole from Radek’s desk.
See, the whole thing with almost dying-or-ascending-while-in-the-meantime-becoming-the-most-brilliant-life-form-ever wasn’t exactly a mistake, technically, and he’d learned so much that a list of it would take years, and wow, there was certainly more important things for him to use his dazzling intellect towards, because how else would they make any discoveries on Atlantis, I mean, really, and anything he wrote down would only hammer home all the amazingly awesome theories to save Atlantis (and the world and… fill in the blank here) that had been reduced to gibberish in the light of the normal (only normal for him, because he was still ahead of most of Atlantis and light years ahead of the Marines) intelligence level.
But, not to sound like an after-school special, Rodney knew that learning was fundamental (not that he didn’t know almost everything) and that the shit had hit the fan (again) during the whole experience, so it couldn’t hurt to document it. Purely for posterity, if the SGC ever got their collective heads out of the clouds (or something lower and nastier) and declassified the revolutionary research happening here.
*
I'd like to get emailed back by the job I applied for. I know I sent this last night, but still. Instant gratification, please :o)
Still, in more pressing matters, I need to get my butt in gear and pack 'cause we're moving tomorrow. Although, seeing as a bed is most likely coming from CT along with all my junk from NYC, it's mostly clothes and stuff with an inflatable mattress. But still.
A while back, people were doing a "post from your WiPs" meme. Here are some, for great (?) amusement.
That Feeling You Can Only Say in French (O11/12 for
doitillegally, how Danny and Rusty know LaMarc)“Guess they still aren’t big fans, huh, Saul?” Danny leans back against the couch cushions, trying to keep his voice light.”
“Dammit, Danny, you two sneaked off with several million and change belonging to them and theirs two months ago. Were you hoping they’d forget?” Saul snaps.
“They were sloppy!” is Rusty’s addition to the conversation he can’t hear. From Saul’s unintelligible mumble, he hears it, and agrees.
“Either way, they’ve decided that you and Rusty need to be taught a little lesson, and seeing as they have enough money to convince some not very nice people of the same, it’d probably be safer for you two to take a little vacation.”
*
In the Blood (SPN/O11, Casefile with capers, oh boy!)
“So how is driving faster solving anything? You’re thinking we can outrun the thing in our own backseat?” Even though Rusty was growing more and more nervous about the thing (beast) in the car, a large part of him knew that they couldn’t get rid of it. It was the job, and if they told Reuben that they’d stolen a painting but left it by the side of the road because it was growling? They would never hear the end of it.
“No, but there has to be someplace we can… secure this thing while we call Reuben. Because I don’t think I can yell at him and drive at the same time.”
Rusty thought a moment, nodded, and reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” asked Danny, taking the next exit quickly and efficiently, if a little roughly.
“You said that you can’t drive and yell at the same time. You drive. I’ll start with the yelling.”
*
From Texas, With Love (for
spn_harlequin, sort of stalled at the moment)Your middle name is Edward, you’re right handed except the time in sixth grade when you broke your arm made you a little ambi-dextrous. You hate dark chocolate and always drink your coffee with two sugars,” here the guy slanted a look down at the bartop, where the empty packets sat.
Sam felt his fingers grip the cup, whether to shatter it or throw it, he wasn’t sure.
“What the fuck?” he managed. This was either the weirdest pick-up in history or something seriously bad shit was about to go down.
“Oh, and you’re the younger brother of Dean Winchester.” He flipped a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and gestured to Sam. Tilting his head in the dim light, Sam could make out the words cordially invited to the wedding of Dean Winchester and but he didn’t wait to read more.
“Son of a bitch,” and now Sam could barely get the words out because he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, and so rests his fists on the bar with a sharp sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Alex look up from the down to bar to stare at him. Sam forces himself to swallow, talk a little quieter.
“Who are you, and what the fuck are you doing here?”
*
Untitled episode tag to "The Tao of Rodney", hopefully to be McShep
When Rodney was little, someone had told him, “always learn from your mistakes”. It might have been his mom, or maybe just his piano teacher, right before she said he didn’t have the heart to play professionally. Either way, the Monday after Carson discharges him from the infirmary finds Rodney with a large pad of paper (blank) and a handful of pens (blue) that he stole from Radek’s desk.
See, the whole thing with almost dying-or-ascending-while-in-the-meantime-becoming-the-most-brilliant-life-form-ever wasn’t exactly a mistake, technically, and he’d learned so much that a list of it would take years, and wow, there was certainly more important things for him to use his dazzling intellect towards, because how else would they make any discoveries on Atlantis, I mean, really, and anything he wrote down would only hammer home all the amazingly awesome theories to save Atlantis (and the world and… fill in the blank here) that had been reduced to gibberish in the light of the normal (only normal for him, because he was still ahead of most of Atlantis and light years ahead of the Marines) intelligence level.
But, not to sound like an after-school special, Rodney knew that learning was fundamental (not that he didn’t know almost everything) and that the shit had hit the fan (again) during the whole experience, so it couldn’t hurt to document it. Purely for posterity, if the SGC ever got their collective heads out of the clouds (or something lower and nastier) and declassified the revolutionary research happening here.
*
