|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 5:20 pm
After a long day's work, Buddingtonite looks for a way to unwind, and other Negaverse officers seem to know just how to do that!
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 5:26 pm
Is it strange to be attracted to a woman that could have easily killed him? Buddingtonite doesn't think so...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 12:12 pm
On his quest to find a White Moon Senshi, Buddingtonite finds a mugger, and then a White Moon Senshi. What luck! **Met Eternal Sailor Pomona
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2013 11:05 am
Buddingtonite takes some comfort in the fact that his White Moon adversaries seem to be having just as rotten luck in the weapon department as him... **Met Aventine
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 23, 2013 12:07 am
How could anyone want to defend disgusting little children that cannot even wash their hands?! Hair will fly! **Met Eternal Sailor Ganymede
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 23, 2013 12:36 am
There were few things that rattled Richard Moreau so much that is almost threatened to expel all of the alcohol from his system. Of course, that was physically impossible and most of his days in college confirmed this feat to be unlikely (he tried everything, to his knowledge), yet after what just happened and what he had seen, he felt more conscious and aware, more so than he was just minutes ago. Granted, minutes ago, he was rendered unconscious by what he assumed to be an oncoming truck. He had seen a bright white light, then felt something slam into him and sent the drunk candy man flying. He hadn’t heard a truck approaching, be he was drink and distracted by a very attractive woman at the time, so not too surprising that he didn’t see the vehicle coming. Except now, he knew it to not be a car or truck. Once he had regained consciousness, he witnessed a brief cat fight (very brief as the lady he was once flirting with had pinned the other girl down), and it was then that he realized the rumors were really true. There was a war going on in Destiny City, and Richard got a mere taste of it. Even now, as he laid on the cold sidewalk, arms spread eagled and crimson eyes staring at the star-filled sky, his mind wasn’t on finding the strength to move on or find shelter. It was on what he had witness, and how easily he could have been killed this night. Richard did not want to think about his mortality, much lss turning the big 3 0. Yet, tonight he was forced to consider it, and now that he was made aware of this ongoing, underground war (things he once believed to be mere propaganda to liven up everyone’s mundane lives), he knew that he had a decision to make. Not getting involved now was simply out of the question. To Richard, this was the equivalent of taking a bite of the forbidden fruit, and there was no way of regurgitating the apple now. He could not ignore this, nor did he want to! He wanted in on this, and it was only a matter of which side he would be willing to join in this war. He didn’t care which side was right or wrong. Such matters were irrelevant when it came to war; each side thought he was right and would likely accuse the other side of trickery, so that would not be a factor in his decision. When it came down to it, Richard could only look at one factor, and that being which side would be the most beneficial to his longevity. “One side was going to kill me,” Richard said, at long last, startling the homeless man that had been poking him with what he thought to be a stick (or hoped was a stick). “The other could have died trying to protect me… had she died and I not left when I did, what would have stopped the other?” The homeless man said nothing, shying away when it was obvious that he would get nothing from the now enlightened ,am. But he didn’t get too far before Richard grabbed his tattered coat and held him back. He looked over the man, as he continued his monologue. “One side is willing to kill. The other side willing to be killed to protect others. For a man that fears death, which side would he join if given the chance?” Again, the homeless man said nothing, tugging at his coat but giving up when Richard made it clear that he would not let go. Richard never gave him the chance to reply; when, when he felt the decision was already made for him? “What use is power if you throw your life away protecting someone you don’t even know? Better to throw my lot in with the winning side and live long enough to see the end of this little war… don’t you think?” Yes, his decision was made. If the opportunity presented itself, he would gladly join the side with the crazy spear lady, because Richard wanted to live. If he was their ally, a valuable ally, they would not kill him. “If I died,” Richard said, finally releasing the homeless man and looking ready to drift back into a drunken stupor right there on the streets. “Who would care for Baldwin?” (Word count: 742)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 25, 2013 11:09 am
A very drunk and now horny Richard follows the mighty Kor home for some late night meal and maybe something more.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 1:31 pm
Buddingtonite is feeling a little down that his efforts in the Negaverse are so minimal and underappreciated, so perhaps recruiting a White Moon Senshi to the cause would fix this? **Met Sailor Phact
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 04, 2013 12:45 pm
A nap in the park leads to Buddingtonite spotting a very interesting Page...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 04, 2013 1:14 pm
He had just fallen to sleep when he heard the soft whimpering of his dog, and the first thing that came to Richard’s mind was that it must have been a pretty fierce thunderstorm going on outside. Ever since he was little, Baldwin would rattle and shake in the wake of a flash of lightning and the roaring thunder, even now when he was the size of a horse. But Richard didn’t hear any claps of thunder and there were no painful flashes of white light to make him regret the light drink he had just a few hours before. Not only that, but his whimpering wasn’t coming from his side of the bed, but at his end, and he cracked a single eye open and looked down into his dog’s big brown eyes. It took him a moment to collect himself, and finally he mumbled to his dog as he placed his great muzzle on his hand. “What is it, Baldwin?” Per usual, Baldwin said nothing, for he was a dog, and the way his eyes shot over towards his side of the bed told Richard that whatever had caused him to whimper was laying just over there. The sleepy man finally turned over and immediately saw what the problem was, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sight of the woman that was laying daintily on the other side of the bed. He couldn’t remember her name, but he knew what she was here, and given the extent of their recent activity, it was no wonder that she was completely conked out now. Which was a problem, because Baldwin trotted back over to his side and tried to nudge her with his nose. Rubbing his eyes and fighting off the coming headache, Richard rolled onto his back and gently caressed her shoulder in hopes of waking her. Of course, she gave a tickled sigh at his touch, but was too foregone with sleep to acknowledge Baldwin! Without moving, she whispered softly to Richard, and the candy maker could practically feel her lust as he continued to rubbed her shoulder and arm. “Mmmm... didn’t think you were ready for round two so quickly...” “I’m not.” Richard said in a tone of voice that was alluring and sweet, despite the words themselves. And only then did she shift her head and look back at him, mildly curious, as he motioned to his Irish wolfhound that panted lightly. “You’re in his spot.” She looked back at Baldwin, and she looked perturbed, before looking back at Richard was a coy smile. “Look, he’s a sweetie, but I’m not sharing the bed with a dog, Mr. Moreau.” His half-asleep grin remained on his face, even as he rolled completely over and faced her entirely. He rested his chin in his hand, and the other moved to grab the blankets, looking to pull them over themselves and shunning poor Baldwin to sleep in his oversized bed that he bought him many years ago. Yet, with a simple flick, he pulled the blankets off of her, and then motioned to the door. “Very well. Don’t give me that look- you already insisted you weren’t sharing the bed with a dog. You may sleep on the couch, or see your way out. Your choice.” The look she gave him resembled a child that had just placed a sour candy in his mouth, and had he not been half-asleep, he would have opened laughed at her. Whoever this woman was gave a sneer, before kicking the rest of the blankets off of her feet and storming out, grabbing her clothes on the way out. It didn’t take long for her to leave the condo entirely, announcing her complete departure with a fierce slamming of the door, and only then did Richard laugh. She might have trashed something on the way out, but he’d worry about that in the morning. For now, his window of falling back to sleep peacefully and getting a full night was closing, and he didn’t even need to command Baldwin to reclaim his spot before the dog cuddled up next to him. He wrapped both arms around the Irish wolfhound and returned to sleep, mumbling to Baldwin as sleep took hold. “Better a dog than a pig... oh dear, Baldwin... I slept with Miss Piggy...” (Word Count: 723)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2013 11:40 am
There were few holidays in the year that Richard Moreau did NOT celebrate with gratuitous amounts of liquor. To Richard, there was always a reason to celebrate while getting himself completely plastered, and he didn’t even really need a holiday to excuse himself. Even something as simple as ‘Lucca counted the till correctly for once’ was an excuse for Richard to break out the bourbon and go to town on his liver. Today was St. Patrick’s Day, and while Richard knew nothing and cared just as much for the history of the Saint that the holiday was named after, he was going to celebrate it regardless. And what other way to celebrate St. Patrick’s day than what he was doing now? His condo came to life with friends and guests of those friends, and while he barely remembered any of their names or how he knew these people, that did nothing to stop himself from running to each and everyone one and mingling. And by mingle, he meant flirting with them and trying to get a kiss out of them, while he was dressed in a rather lavish, if not blatantly stereotypical, St. Patrick Day appropriate outfit. What did he care if he offended anyone in his mock Leprechaun gear? He was born with red hair and it just seemed perfect for him to dress up, considering he was the host. And besides, he wasn’t the only one, and he made it a point to compliment everyone that arrived to his party in a festive mood, approaching them and offering them a drink as well as a compliment as an award. “That’s quite a lovely costume, Melanie! I -love- the skirt! It’d look better if it was on the floor in my bedroom, however! Vincent! I see you’re dressed appropriately, and lucky you for being born a ginger! Didn’t have to dye your hair or anything! Don’t give me that look- that was a compliment! Susan, hands off Joshua’s shillelagh! That’s for after the party!” He had plenty more mingling left to do, and given the music and the chattering, he was surprised that he even heard the knocking at the door. With haste he maneuvered through the crowd and was able to shoo a few of the party goers away from the door, and he made sure everything was in order before he opened it. Green top hat straightened, bowtie puffed out, and he checked to make sure there was no alcohol staining his green tuxedo, and once everything checked out, he opened the door. The sight of his maid and the annoyed look she wore was of little concern to him, but the leash in her hand and the dog that was attached to the leash made him beam. “Oh, and here he is! The man of the hour! This party is now complete!” Baldwin was groomed to perfection and the large, easy going Irish Wolfhound remained seated, but wagged his tail vigorously at the sight of his master. The maid was quick to hand the leash over to Richard, and had Richard not been showering his dog with affection, he would have noticed the disdain in her voice as she spoke over the music and chattering people. “The mess is going to be big, isn’t it, Mr. Moreau?” “Yep!” Richard said, scratching Baldwin behind the ears and admiring the groomer’s work, especially around his dog’s eyes. He removed his top hat and placed it on Baldwin’s head, positioning it between his ears, before accepting the leash and walking his dog back into the condo. “But no worries. You’ll be paid double Monday...” Without once waiting for her response, he closed the door once himself and Baldwin were in, and nothing could drown out the mirth in his voice as he announced to party-goers. “Alright, folks! Now that our only one of Irish descent has arrived, this party can finally get started! Get in line to kiss our Irish guest, and if you don’t want to kiss a dog, than good news! His owner is more than willing to accept a kiss in his stead!” And Baldwin, being the well-tempered dog that he was, had no idea what was going on or why there were so many people in his master’s house, but the sound of joy in his voice and the cheers that echoed throughout the condo were enough for him to wag his tail. Everything else didn’t matter to him, so long as he and his master were happy. “Happy St. Patrick’s day, everyone!” (Word Count: 760)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 20, 2013 12:25 am
Buddingtonite seeks more of his allies, in hopes of enlightening his knowledge of the Negaverse, and meets a very interesting young lady... **Met Xenotime
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 24, 2013 10:47 pm
Wait, since when did Serpentine watch 'Fight Club'?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 25, 2013 11:47 am
A trip to the Rift brings Buddingtonite face to face with a rather interesting lady... and much fun and regret is to be had! **Met Dahlia
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 25, 2013 12:18 pm
When coffee craving kicks but Buddingtonite is too lazy to change uniforms, he must entrust his money to a trustworthy looking, strapping young lad!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
