dog_eat_dog: <user name=superheroine> (everybody wants to rule the world)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
[It’s no coincidence that Tess has been quiet for a new weeks, what with what’s happened in her household, but well, she’s never been one to hide. She might drop off the radar, or change her identity, but she’d never hide.

Only cowards hide.

Despite the weather turning warmer, Tess is in a thick sweater with the collar drawn around her tightly, sitting on the front steps of the castle. Those first few weeks of spring are nice after a cold winter, and she’s looking forward to a summer –– hopefully one more easygoing than the spring they’ve had, or the winter before it.

Tess balances her journal on her knees and flips through it idly. After a moment she gives a huff of exasperation.]


Missing rooms, super strength, magic, weddings…

Just once I’d like to open the journal and talk about old episodes of some TV show or something normal. There are so many TV shows I wish I’d gotten to see the ending to. I never got to see that Carrie movie, or see if Miley Cyrus ended up in rehab.

Such a piss-off.
dog_eat_dog: <user name=ifeelsick> (our october day is almost gone)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
[Dictated]

Some of you have really absurd names, you know that?

It's weird enough that some of you just have ridiculous hippy names like "Howl" or "Cloud" or "Vicious" or "Firethroat" or whatever but then there's all these pretentious names that are really titles. Not just a doctor, The Doctor, and there's a Fifth and a Tenth but who knows what happened to the others.

And then there's not just some guy named Lorax, but he's The Lorax. What the fuck is a Lorax in the first place? Fuck if I know, but maybe I should be honored to live up the hall from not only a Lorax but The Lorax. He sounds like a cleaning product mascot, like Mr. Clean.

I almost wish the castle had kept my nameplate Dog Eat Dog just so I could have a ridiculous name plate. I mean, mine doesn't even include a last name normally. Or maybe changed it to something smoother: Queen of Boston. The Queen of Boston.
dog_eat_dog: (all i really want is deliverance)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
[Filtered to medical personnel]

[Spoken crisply and quickly:]

I've got a young man overdosing on methamphetamine. He is headed to the clinic.

There goddamn better be someone ready to meet him.
dog_eat_dog: (the conflicts the craziness)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
[Tess has heard the warnings, but frankly, nothing ever stops her. Curfews were always a horrible part of living in the Quarantine Zone, and you could only skirt around them so much before you risked getting caught, but she still defied them. Nothing could keep her in her apartment for more than she wanted to be, just like how nothing could keep her in certain zones, just like how nothing could keep her inside the walls.

As a result, she's out and about, kissing or no kissing. She's not too concerned, given that she has a gun and her own two fists should anyone get up in her space without welcome. No castle is going to overpower her.

So there's Tess, reading in the library. She's sitting on a couch in front of the fire, idly thumbing through books with her feet tucked up under her.]


Been a long time since I've seen a proper Christmas. It was weird enough getting to taste pumpkin pie and real turkey again, so it'll be good to have gingerbread, and eggnog, and candy canes. Fresh ones, not stale ones.

Starbucks pumpkin spice lattes… I only ever had a few but it was the best taste ever. Or just Starbucks in general, such a waste of money but so good. Fuck.

[She's definitely drinking one now, though.]

Crazy to me that the castle even recognizes brand names, too.

EIGHTH SHOT

Oct. 6th, 2013 07:59 pm
dog_eat_dog: (why are you so petrified of silence)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
[Dictated quite cheerfully:]

Wish me happy birthday, people, I'm 40 years old today and therefore officially old.

SIXTH SHOT

Sep. 16th, 2013 10:28 am
dog_eat_dog: (do i wear you out)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
[Three weeks.

Tess is approaching three weeks in this place and most of it has been spent recovering, both from physical injuries and twenty years of near-constant struggle. She's shocked she doesn't look twice her actual age after life in a world ravaged by infection.

It's been three weeks of sleeping and eating until she pukes –– not a hard feat, with a stomach used to being unsatisfied. Three weeks of finding delight in stupid little things like owning a stick of deodorant that isn't dried out, having underwear that doesn't have shot elastic and stains, and three weeks of almost compulsively running her fingers through her hair just to fixate on how clean and shiny it is.

Next to a well-groomed, well-fed populace, she feels utterly insane.

Sitting in a recliner by the pool in lounge pants and a hoodie, Tess balances her journal against her knees and writes:]


9/16

Things to be grateful for today:
  1. Hair elastics. Lost my last good one three months ago.
  2. Washing machines.
  3. Fresh peaches. The big white ones, so juicy you could practically drink it.
  4. Soap.
  5. Good company.
  6. Fresh bread!!

First Shot

Aug. 26th, 2013 04:49 pm
dog_eat_dog: (truth is i somehow lost 'em)
[personal profile] dog_eat_dog
Public, but contains spoilers for The Last Of Us. )

When she opens her eyes, they settle immediately on the window across from "her" bedroom wall. More importantly, they settle on what appears to be a distant city basking under a summer sun, and for an instant she thinks of being a teenager again, when she dreamed of backpacking across Europe. There were lots of pictures of little French cities all over the Internet, back then, cities that could still feel like quaint little towns despite their sprawl.

For a moment, she just stares in silence, and then she says:]



Couldn't pick a nicer fucking place to die, huh...

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Paradisa

January 2015

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