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 Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2015 12:45 am
Battle
Title: Desert Trekking Buddies
Characters: Ashur, Andronicus, Jarosite
Status: Complete
Summary: Ashur comes across a fleeing Andronicus, and joins in to fend of Jarosite, which ends in their favor.
Word Count: 1093
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2015 12:50 am
ORP
Title: And the moon if you but asked
Characters: Ashur, (a lot of knights)
Status: Complete
Summary: In the aftermath of the Mistral tragedy, Ashur and those involved with retrieving the necessary parts on the Mercurian Wonder were called to meet and given the finished product with which to "upgrade" their signet rings.
Word Count: --
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2015 1:05 am
Regular
Title: Denial is So Much Easier
Characters: Dominic, Danika, Alexandra
Status: Incomplete
Summary: --
Word Count: --
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2015 11:35 am
Regular
Title: Growing Pains
Characters: Ashur, Massalia
Status: Complete
Summary: Ashur and Massalia spend a bit of time to talk and catch up; they even set up a code word to set future meet dates. Never hurts to be extra careful.
Word Count: 1595
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2015 11:45 am
Regular
Title: The Redhead
Characters: Dominic, Phedre
Status: Complete
Summary: Dominic meets Phedre for the first time! They take PE together and officially introduce themselves, then proceed to kick a** at volleyball, run two laps like champions, and make plans to go volunteer for the school fashion show.
Word Count: 1152
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2015 12:40 am
Battle
Title: I'll show you the lights
Characters: Ashur, Methone
Status: Complete
Summary: Ashur meets Methone for the first time! She calls out to him and starts a very, very brief sparring match. Tripping and blinding ensue, proceeding to some good youma tail-kicking by the end of the night.
Word Count: 1178
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2015 11:55 pm
Solo
Title: Some Kind of Light
Characters: Dominic, Danika (with permission from Kaefaux)
Status: Complete
Summary: Dominic realizes that there could be more productive ways for him to vent his frustrations, and after a little research and input from Dani, he finally finds a solution.
Word Count: 2377
Notes: Solo x4, backdated to June 2014.
-----
”Dammit!”
The exclamation was followed up by another slew of curses that tumbled none-too-gently out of Dominic’s mouth; not a rare occurrence in the past few days. After much deliberation (and more than a number of heavy hints from friends and other presumably concerned parties that actually noticed), he finally caved and visited a doctor. It was under the guise of a badly needed physical check-up, however, and Dom stuck to that story whenever anyone asked. Though that didn’t necessarily mean he was going to follow the advice given to him, which was to rest his hands. Please. He had projects to get done.
Hell, he even had half a mind to do his homework this term so there was also that on his to-do list.
Despite his rebelling against the solid advice given by his physician, however, the raven-haired youth found that, even if he wanted to, his hands really couldn’t do anything with any level of precision or accuracy. Which he kind of needed, obviously, with all of his projects. In fact, even things that required little to no effort normally -- like, say, turning a doorknob -- made his hands ache and throb and feel like they were about to go numb again. Which kept on stacking, and growing, and mounting. The guy was on the edge of his patience now, having gotten very little progress done on his latest tweak on an old wristwatch because of the extent of injury his hands had suffered, so as he repeatedly balled his aching hands into fists, trying his best to stretch the pain away, Dominic stepped away from his bench and exited the room.
No point in throwing the project against the wall at this point. He’d just end up back at square one, and if his injuries didn’t heal any time soon that would mean months of no progress, wasted time, effort, and probably the loss of materials that he’d specifically bought for the tweak.
A scowl had permanently etched itself on Dom’s face as he flopped onto the couch, his narrow eyes narrowing even further as the events leading up to his injuries replayed in scene snippets of the starring villain. His father had made numerous phone calls and visits in the past few weeks, leading to more impromptu tree-beatings and sessions of loud, angry music while staring at the ceiling and seriously accommodating more depressing thoughts and possible options. With so little recovery time between each occurrence, however, his hands and his mental state were quickly at their worst point, piling onto that the issue that his mother had brought to his attention via a video call…
Well. In short, he wasn’t in a very good state.
Dom huffed and picked up the remote, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm at even that small movement. He probably ought to see Hannah about some kind of temporary relief; actually, he’d entertained that thought more than a handful of times, but some part of him just couldn’t...share. Couldn’t open that can of worms and worry up for his friend. Any of them, for that matter. Though, probably more accurately, he didn’t want to. He managed well enough anyway, so why make any of them worry at all?
It was a stupid excuse, but he was glad to have it all the same.
Cerulean blues stared blankly at the screen in front, a brow raising as he flipped to some show or movie with Chuck Norris in it -- he wasn’t a big fan, though he’s found he loves all the jokes made about the guy. Such movies often reminded him of a certain fashion designer friend, this particular instance not being an exception, and as his current mood was basically s**t he figured there was no harm in trying to find someone that had a good chance at cheering him up without needing a reason (or having to put too much effort into it).
Pulling out his phone, extra slowly to keep from aggravating his hands any further, he began to type out a text. For the first time he was actually grateful for the autocorrect feature.
Yo, Chuck Norris on the tube.
You think if I grew a beard like that I’d be able to kick a**?
After hitting send he set the phone beside him and glued his eyes to the screen, glad for the change in scenery and the rest he was actually giving his hands. They still tingled a bit, but probably because he was trying to do just about anything with them simply because his doctor had told him not to. Even if it was a little self-destructing, there was just that side of him that hated following orders. More often than not he’d ignore and go about things his own way, but after three days of trying to work through the pain Dom just couldn’t keep going that route.
Another sigh escaped him at this realization, his mind briefly going back to his parental problems and leaving a lingering thought about his constant need to go head-to-head again his dad for mostly the same reason, in timing with his phone suddenly sounding beside him to alert him to a text. It didn’t take too much movement or effort to unlock his phone and read the message.
The beard does not make the man.
A nice 5 o'clock shadow though…
He snorted, a brow raising as his eyes flashed to the screen briefly to catch Chuck Norris landing a nice roundhouse to the unfortunate baddie.
So I’m man enough with just my goatee?
Not a big fan of stubble, but I get really lazy in winter. Does that count?
The phone stayed in his hands this time, and as he watched the movie they exchanged just a few texts. Mostly he opted to reply either during commercials or when Norris wasn’t busy kicking a** and taking names.
In your case, yes, actually. Not many guys can pull it off so be proud.
....depends. I'd need to see to tell lol
It's still winter so I won't shave for a few days. First step to following after Mr. Norris here.
So we need to meet up in the next couple days before you do.
Finally, something to look forward to.
Now that he actually sat down to think about it, he’d cooped himself up again in his apartment for the past couple of days. Class was never really a priority for him and most of his friends he could contact via text, plus no one had been looking for him anyway so he had no real reason to leave the apartment. Food was delivered (because he couldn’t be bothered to cook and certainly not because he couldn’t cook, period) and he had a lifetime’s worth of entertainment available at his fingertips courtesy of Netflix and other various internet sources.
Granted, he’d been a little more productive than that; or was trying to be, rather. He couldn’t actually be productive because of…
Another groan erupted from his throat as the youth’s thoughts rounded back to his injured hands and the events that preceded each incidence of self-inflicted pain. Sure, it’d numbed him on the inside for a time, helped him unwind…but now? Now he was just stuck. In pain, with no options except to actually face all the questions that his problems posed. It was a task he’d been putting off for as long as humanly possible, which apparently meant, at most, about a month. Less, if he were to be completely honest.
Dom set his phone on the table and let it be, not bothering to reply to Dani’s latest text because...well, all he really had to say to it was “okay” and he didn’t think she needed that kind of text as confirmation. He’d just take her up on the offer later, probably, so he settled into the couch. A blank sort of expression took over his features, and his usually curious cerulean blue eyes watched with feigned interest as Chuck Norris (as his character, obviously, though Dom still had no idea what was going on or what the character’s name actually was) went about progressing through whatever the story was all about and beating up or shooting bad guys in the process.
It wasn’t really anything big that caught his attention. Just a quick punch to the side of the face of the boss-man, or at least that’s who Dominic thought the boss-man was supposed to be -- the movie was probably almost over, so it made sense that it’d be the big baddie or whatever -- delivered by, of course, Chuck Norris.
He blinked, brows furrowing ever so slightly as he watched the fight scene unfold before him and, by its end, a thought struck him.
A stroke of brilliance, he almost wanted to say, and he made a grab for his phone again, a now-familiar pain once again shooting up his arm due to the quick movement. He ignored it as best he could and pulled up a familiar name before shooting off a text.
Hey, do you frequent the gym or some similar place?
His mind was already processing things as the credits started rolling minutes after the final scene of the movie -- a scene that Dominic conveniently ignored because the next interesting thing had finally hit him. And because he really didn’t care about the credits of a movie he was barely half-watching. Never mind that, though.
Productivity.
That’s what he’d been trying to accomplish all this time. Er, that is, the past several days since his doctor told him that he ought to rest his hands to allow them time to recover properly. There was something about the way Norris punched that guy’s face that made it look rather...relaxing. Which was the point of any de-stressing technique; it just happened that his technique involved physical injury to something. It didn’t have to be a tree, though, right? He’d probably just wind up worsening his already bad situation if he tried to sock another trunk, so at this point that wasn’t even a viable option anymore. Probably another reason why he’d been a bit out of it.
The raven-haired youth quickly made his way to his room and plopped himself down in front of his computer, pulling up his preferred search engine to start doing a bit of research -- the keywords he first entered were “destress” and “sports,” which eventually led him to an interesting topic about sports psychology that he was happy to plow through. Before long his search expanded to include martial arts -- hey, if Chuck Norris could find some satisfaction in breaking some guy’s face in maybe it’d be the same for him? His phone toned with a text alert some minutes into his reading, so he tore his eyes from the screen and opened it up.
I do, sometimes. Why, looking to join one?
He snorted, a snort of amusement no doubt as a smirk now played on his features, and promptly replied.
I’m looking into some stuff, that’s all. Think it’s worth the investment?
While not technically an “investment,” Dominic was a little too lazy to try and find the proper wording to get his point across. After hitting send he quickly went back to his googling and research, the pain in his hands ebbing to the furthest regions of his mind as he flitted from one search topic to the next, soaking in the information and weighing his various options. Ideally it’d be something he could get the hang of quickly with a bit of focus and dedication, while at the same time still being awesome. He wasn’t doing this to impress anyone, mind, and awesome could also include the fact that it’d be really useful whenever he was put up against another general.
Though, truth be told, that was more an afterthought than anything else.
Eventually his clicking rounded him to a particular sport that piqued his interest. It wasn’t that it was the most conventional or even the most ideal considering where he lived (though, to be fair, there was a whole other type of war going on). What caught his eye, though, was that it wouldn’t take him years of practice to get the hang of it. It would still take time, obviously, but not nearly as much as most other martial arts.
A small smile flickered onto his face as his mind settled on the idea just as his phone alerted him to another text.
Place I go has free first time classes for stuff if you want to try.
I think I found what I was looking for, but if I get to see you in a tight gym outfit I’m all for that free class. ;P
Dominic gave a small laugh before hurriedly going back to his research and getting himself more acquainted to the idea of taking up such a sport to de-stress. At the very least, he figured it’d be worth a try. He could always default to something that was a little less demanding, but…
And his thoughts were cut short by another new text. By this point he was happy with what he found and closed his search windows after jotting down a gym’s address on his phone and retiring back to the living room, barely paying attention to whatever movie was playing now. His mind was more focused on other things, more pleasant images being one of them, as he held the phone in his hands which were idling in his lap.
Sports bra and gym shorts ftw~ ;P
What'd you find?
Very nice... ;]
Gym that offers a certain sport I found on Google. Krav Maga, ever heard?
And their conversation trailed from there for a while. He could relax a bit already, the pain in his hands not quite as prominent as it had been in the past days, knowing that there was a sort-of answer to his problem in sight. It might not have been the best solution, but at the very, very least it addressed a problem (one of many, but it was a start!) rather than ignored it. Something like him seeing some kind of light, one could even say.
00. RP Log
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Posted: Mon Feb 23, 2015 9:00 pm
Solo
Title: Drunk Dialing Karma...
Characters: Dominic, Danika (with permission from Kaefaux)
Status: Complete
Summary: Dominic wakes up in a daze and, after getting evicted from his apartment, slowly starts recalling how he made some very bad decisions the night before.
Word Count: 4163
Notes: Solo x8, backdated to July 2014.
-----
First thing that came to mind? The pounding headache.
No, scratch that. It was more akin to multiple jackhammers on full blast having a fun go at the space between his ears. His face didn’t feel that much better either...or actually, the rest of him felt like he’d been forced to roll down a nice, rocky hill.
But then maybe he was just a lightweight, being somewhat new to the whole drinking thing. Dominic, whose face was currently screwed up into a very discernible scowl, groaned as he felt someone shoving at his shoulders.
“DJ, Deej. Hey, man, c’mon, wake up…” he heard over and over again, though he refused to open his eyes. It kind of sounded like the voice of his one friend, though with the way his brain was throbbing against the inside of his skull he really couldn’t be too sure. Dom managed a grunt in reply, which was enough to get more than just his name and a request to wake up out of whoever-it-was.
“C’mon, DJ, I gotta clean this s**t up before my girl gets back. Get up and outta here if you’re not gonna help, bro.”
The “before my girl gets back” got Dom’s attention, “who, what, where, and why” questions coming out the wazoo in his brain as it tried to process what the heck his friend was talking about. He let out another groan as he cracked open an eye, immediately regretting it. The window’s blinds were wide open, letting the marvelously painful sunlight stream right on into the room and nearly blind him (not really) as soon as he exposed his cerulean blues. Another groan, but he was definitely more awake now. After another few minutes and a tentative squinting open of his eyes, Dominic assessed the situation.
Or tried to, then after a few seconds of trying he kind of quit. His mind just wasn’t cooperating, so after getting a few more pushes from his friend Dominic lifted a hand to signal that he got it. He was hungover, not deaf. Still, the hungover nineteen year-old stayed his tongue. As quick as he could manage in his state, Dom lifted himself up off the couch and, after a brief trip to the bathroom and being stopped long enough to be given back his phone, staggered out of the house. Er.. apartment. Dorm? He didn’t even know, but then he didn’t really care all that much either.
Hell, he wasn’t even sure when he got to his own apartment, though what he saw when he got to his door did a great job of sobering him up a bit.
Dominic held the building manager’s gaze for a moment, feeling her jade green gaze just boring into him as the silence between them settled ever so briefly, and then she cleared her throat and approached in that usual, professional, uptight way that she normally did.
“Mr. Styles,” she started, her high-pitched squeak of a voice not doing his still-throbbing head any favors. He almost winced. “I’ve been informed by your father--”
“My what?”
She paused then, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as if considering the idea of reprimanding him for the interruption, before plowing forward with whatever it is that she wanted to say.
“Your father, the owner of this building--”
He scoffed at that, dropping his head in disbelief. Now why didn’t he see that one coming?
“--has informed me of various,” another pause, and those jade green eyes of hers seemed to look him up and down in scrutiny, “circumstances that prevent him from allowing you stay at this residence any longer.”
What?
“He instructed me to give you until noon to gather your things and make whatever arrangements you must, and afterwards I’m to escort you out of the building. He also told me to inform you, should any destruction of anything inside the apartment occur, that he has no problems with taking legal action.”
She said it so calmly and in such a straightforward manner that Dominic wondered for a second if she was his mistress or something, sent here to spy on him as the uptight, pain-in-the-a** manager so his dad could keep even closer tabs on him.
The throb in his head wasn’t getting any better with the news, but there was no way he wasn’t awake now. And, as though she’d just finished some ordinary, mundane chore, the manager walked away after reminding him that she’d be back in an hour, leaving Dominic in the hallway to try and gather his thoughts. The first one? Obviously to kill his dad, though how far he’d get with that plan within the next hour was pointless to even consider. The second thought was to call his mom, but he could do that later…
And so he filed down the list of things he could do as he unlocked his apartment door for the last time and sauntered...right to the bathroom. He was on his knees and bending over the toilet before he even knew what was happening, and just like that ten minutes were gone.
The next fifty went by in a blur as he stuffed his suitcases with all his clothes and shoes -- which thankfully wasn’t too much, though certainly a lot -- before going to his work room and boxing up all of his tools and projects as quickly as humanly possible. The only rooms he really bothered to go to were his bedroom and workroom, while the rest of the apartment was left alone. He’d never really settled in, in the first place, he realized, now that he was actually moving out.
By noon there were four cardboard boxes full of his stuff, along with the the suitcases full of his clothes (and shoes and bags) and a messenger bag waiting to be slung over his shoulder outside in the hallway. The manager, bless her stone heart, actually let him have a bit more time to check and make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind, as well as gave him permission to come back for his bikes at a later date, before escorting him out of the building as promised. And leaving him there after a quick, curt goodbye.
So there he stood, his life coming to about four cardboard boxes and a set of suitcases, fiddling with the phone he had in his pocket and wondering who he ought to call. Certain names were popping up, standing above the others for various reasons, but the one he called was not the first that came to mind. In fact, it was the last one that came to mind, and only because he’d been kicked out of that apartment earlier that morning.
He dialed then, a wave of relief washing over him when he heard someone pick up the receiver on the other ********, Jef, you actually picked up.
“Screw off, Deej, I’m bus--”
“Wait, ah.. don’t hang up.” A worried look crossed his features then, and he ran a hand through his hair and scrunched up his face, hoping for the best as the next words stumbled out of his mouth. “I, uhh, I got a deal for you. I will clean up your apartment if you let me stay there for a few hours without asking any questions.”
A long pause followed, then a long sigh. “Do I even wanna know?”
“Not really, no, but you’d be out of luck either way. Do we have a deal?”
Another pause, then a huff. “Whatever. Hell yes, we have a deal. How soon can you get here?”
----
Just past five o’clock was around the time Dominic finished scrubbing the last tile in the bathroom, the filth within which had escaped him earlier that morning with his brain being anything but clear. Thankfully Jef didn’t ask any questions, as promised, when he lugged the boxes and his suitcases up -- the cabby was nice and pitched in to help, so Dom gladly added a good bit of extra to his fare. After a quick shower the raven-haired youth was finally lounging on the now-fresh smelling sofa that he’d painstakingly spent a good forty-five minutes on.
Jef was on the recliner sipping on a juice box, while Dom had a bottle of water on hand, and they watched one of the Bourne movies in relative silence.
“Hey, so you know you can’t stay here tonight,” Jef eventually spoke up during a commercial. “Abi’s flight lands in about...two hours. You need to be outta here by then. Sorry, bro.”
Dom waved a hand in response. “I figured. Just didn’t wanna be on the street for most of the day, y’know. I’ll figure something out before you leave to go get her.”
“Why not go stay with that chick you called last night?”
And then he froze at that, his mind suddenly reeling back to the events that transpired the previous night. It was mostly a blur, he realized, and his eyes glanced over at Jef’s reclined figure. “What are you talkin’ about?” He probably sounded a little nervous. Just a little.
Jef wasn’t the sort to catch on to someone’s tone of voice, though, and he simply kept his eyes glued to the screen when he answered. “Yeah, you called someone last night, around midnight I think.” His snort didn’t do anything to keep Dominic calm. “One hell of a call, man, gotta say.”
Dom sat up then, his whole body now tense as he tried to piece some things together. Still nothing, much to his annoyance, so he practically had to force himself to start asking some more probing questions. “Why don’t I remember any of this?”
“You were smashed pretty good.”
“What did I say?”
“Shitload, bro, but I remember giving you props for sticking up for her.”
“Props for wha-- never mind. Who did I call?”
There was a pause then, and another commercial came on as Jef turned and actually studied the look on his face. Stifled freaking out was probably the best way to say it, but the guy didn’t seem to place it and dropped the name anyway, not knowing that it’d kick Dominic’s headache up a notch. “You said her name was ‘Dani.’ Half of us thought it was a dude so you called and put her on speaker so we could hear her voice,” he laughed.
Dominic obviously didn’t find anything funny about anything he was saying, and zoned out to whatever else he started rambling on about. The bottle of water and basically everything else around him was forgotten as he whipped out his phone and checked his call log.
‘Midnight, midnight.. for the love of g--’
And there it was, in plain sight right on his screen. A called made to “Dani” at 12:18AM.
“Well, ******** me…”
-- flashback --
The music was loud but not obnoxiously so. It was just a small get-together, a few buddies calling him out for a good time. Dominic had found he was desperate for any distraction this time around, even going so far as to consider actually getting drunk just to forget the conversation he’d just had with his dad over the phone. So he didn’t pass on the invite; rather, he actually jumped at it and showed up early with two pizzas to show his thanks. He would have brought beer, but...well, he couldn’t get his hands on the stuff yet.
The evening passed quickly, and after more than a few games his head was buzzing, his body light and laughter coming easily even with the stupidest jokes. Conversations about his latest projects or puzzles came and went, along with topics typically exchanged between the lot of them, and before long someone called him out on sharing stories with “another buddy” when he mentioned Dani.
“Shut up, dude, you have absolutely no idea how hot she is,” his defense had started.
“Prove it!” and “Liar!” and other such comments caused it to quickly escalate to the point where he actually pulled out his phone and dialed. “She’s a chick, guys, I swear. Watch...”
So the phone rang, and someone actually picked up. Drunk or not, he could tell it was Dani.
“Heyy, you picked up!” His words were coming out rather slurred but still understandable. Dom pulled the phone away briefly. “Guys, she picked up!” he cried, laughter erupting in the room as he put the phone back to his ear. “‘Sup, beautiful?”
Admittedly, he was a little curious what her expression must have been like right then, but judging by her tone of voice she sounded kind of amused. “Wait, ‘guys’? As in multiple?” she asked, a long pause following before she finally continued when Dom just stupidly nodded to answer her question. “Dom, where are you?”
“Oh, holy s**t you’re on the phone,” he laughed then. “I was nodding, sorry. Yeah, guys! We’re hanging out, having fun,” he explained in his only mildly slurred speech, taking a sip of the drink in his other hand before he continued. “Oh, no homo, though. I mean, that kind of love’s cool and all, just not my thing, y’kn--dude. Dude. Wait…I just remembered something…”
“Do you need a ride home? You, uhh…you’re drunk. And I’m not personally sure you’re safe,” came a concerned response, to which Dominic’s smile only widened.
“Noo, no, no, no, no, no...no. Shhh…” was his answer, ending in something of a snicker. “I’m fine, really, but that’s so thought-- Dude!” and he pulled the phone away from his ear again, as though that meant that she wouldn’t hear anything he was saying when he wasn’t saying it right to the speaker.
Dom smacked a nearby friend in the shoulder with the hand that was carrying a drink, causing some of the liquid to splash onto the guy’s shirt. “Dude, she’s more thoughtful than that bi--” He was cut off by the guy retaliating with a punch to the offending arm, causing Dom’s drink to drop to the floor with a few plastic taps and a light spill.
“Dammit! What the f--?! Ah...” and he went back to the phone. “Hello?”
”Still here.” She still sounded amused.
”Great! That’s great!”
“Did you just get punched? Stop harassing people who’re within arm’s reach.”
Dom let out a laugh at that. “I did, yeah. I uh...think. He got my arm so the swimmer’s are safe, no worries there.”
“What? You got punched by a swimmer? I find that iro--”
“No, nono, he cut in, “did I say somethin’ about a swimmer? ...never mind! Wait, just listen for a sec. Listen, listen. So I was telling these guys about you earlier. Guess I was kinda bragging or whatever ‘cause you blow all their girls out the water and all.”
She snorted, but he mostly ignored it. “How the hell can you even brag about me against other guys’ girls when I’m not--”
“Yeah, no, see that’s not my point! They wouldn’t buy it, can you believe that? Kept saying you were a guy.”
“They said what?”
“Right?! Bullshit, obviously! So I said I’d call so they can hear your sexy a** voice!” And, as she replied he hit the speakerphone, the sound of her laughter coming in relatively clearly as she replied.
“My voice is what?” she said between laughs, the sound of which widened the proud smile that was already on Dominic’s face.
“Yo! Yo! Listen up!!” he called the others’ attention.
It was probably because the sound of his voice changed, but Dani sounded just a little more...shocked...when she spoke again. “Dominic, what the did you just-- oh, s**t. You really put me on speaker, didn’t you?”
And then near-total silence fell in the room, with Dominic’s expression becoming rather smug as his friends stared like idiots at the phone in his hands. He would have left it at that, actually, but Dani kept on going before he could stop her. And once she started, the guy just didn’t feel like stopping her.
“Oh, ******** it. Hello, I’m Dani. I play hockey and have a habit of getting sent to the box due to beating the s**t out of male opponents when I'm not scoring a goal over their asses.” There was a loud cheer at that, Dominic joining in with his friends and having no qualms about Dani sharing a bit about herself with them. Actually, he found he kind of liked it.
“Comics are next to a religion for me. I'm a fashion designer. I'm a C-cup and lean towards an hourglass figure when I'm not building muscle.” And a couple more cheers, this time actually headed by Dominic. A few “holy shits” and other such expressions were also mixed in, along with some wolf whistling and some more laughing that added on to why Dom seemed to puff up with pride for whatever reason his inebriated mind had formulated. He didn’t even notice the fact that she was sounding more and more pissed off the longer he kept her on speaker.
”Hah! I told you, assholes!” he yelled just a bit too enthusiastically somewhere in the middle.
Of course, when it seemed like she was done he turned the speaker off and smirked as he put the phone to his ear right as she threatened him, saying, “I’ve been building muscle, lately. Dominic, do you really want to piss me off with this bullshit?”
“Woow, I really love it when you say my full name,” he started, his cerulean blues only slightly glazed over as he picked up another drink. A piece of his brain still recognized the fact that she might not want to hear that right about then, though, so after downing the drink he laughed again. “Relaaaax, babe, you’re off speaker now. I think you made my point. No harm, no foul, righ--”
Someone yanked the phone from his hand right then, and he gave them his best “what the hell?!” face as they talked into it.
“Hey, feel free to swing by tonight, sweetheart! We’ll--”
“Who the <********> did you just call ‘sweetheart’?!”
It was a given that Dominic threw the first punch in that fight.
-- end flashback --
And the last thing he remembered was starting yet another drinking game after that…
Cerulean eyes stared, horrified, at the screen of his phone that had already started to darken in preparation for auto-locking. He could hear Jef still going on about something in the background, but he couldn’t quite get his brain to focus on whatever the guy was going on about. The events surrounding the phone call were still playing and replaying and replaying again in his mind, and the more he thought about it the more dread he started to feel weighing down on his shoulders.
Along with guilt, of course. That was a given. He couldn’t even remember how the call ended, for goodness sake, so along with what he could remember there was a good chance he’d said even worse things after.
The headache seemed to worsen all the more at that realization, to the point where he actually had to put his phone down, close his eyes and rest his head in his hands. “Damn…” he started, which got his friend to finally stop talking and actually pay attention to what was going on.
“So...figured something out?”
Dom snorted at that and shook his head slowly. “Yeah, I did. Thank you for reminding me that I was an absolute d**k last night. Son of a--” and he let a few choice words and phrases fall out of his mouth in quick succession, culminating in a deep sigh that silenced the room.
He didn’t even need to think about it, Dominic already knew what he ought to do next. Though, a part of him also knew that if he went there now he’d have one other thing to talk to her about. None of what he was thinking about, however, would be happening if she wasn’t talking to him. And he didn’t have the guts to try calling her first, so after steeling himself a bit he picked his phone up and got off the couch.
“Alright, well I’ve obviously got some more s**t to straighten out. Great.”
“Great!” Jef chimed in, looking at Dom with an expression that was a little more than confused. “Uh, so you gonna hang around here for much longer, or…?”
Dominic couldn’t help but sigh and shook his head again. “Nah, gotta actually think something through. Also, I need to pick up my bikes. Can I leave my stuff here, at least? I really don’t have anywhere to put ‘em so…”
“Yeah, sure, the boxes and stuff are cool. Abi’s just a little...you know...prickly when she gets back from trips, so ‘reason’ isn’t at the top of her ******** off. You want these boxes on the street or what?”
He laughed and lifted his hands to show that he was backing off. “Right, sorry. Thanks again, for the help. I’ll try and get a storage space or something if I don’t find some place more permanent sometime this week. Cool?”
“Cool.”
And after he grabbed some clothes for the next day and shoved them into a backpack with a few other necessities, Jef showed him to the door. Dom then hurried back to his apartment and picked up his first bike -- the one with pedals. He then rode it to Jef’s place, his mind all the while going through possible ideas for showing up at her door and begging for her forgiveness, and secured it to the building’s designated rack before going back for his motorcycle this time.
By the time he drove his bike out of the garage for the last time, he kind of had something figured out…
Kind of.
----
Bribery and a heavy dose of sincerity were his only weapons, along with a bag of food from her favorite take-out spot in Destiny City. Hey, he wasn’t coming to beg and grovel empty-handed; he wasn’t insane. Still, Dominic was looking up at the familiar apartment complex from where he was currently parked in the parking lot, his helmet still on and the shield slightly fogged up. He was...nervous, to say the least.
And he probably should be, though it really wasn’t a very comforting thought.
Sighing, he finally figured he’d spent about as much time as he could afford staring nervously up at the building, a part of him thinking that a passerby might have pegged him for some kind of stalker and there was a chance he’d get stuck in jail for that night if he was really just that unlucky. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, after all, and he took another deep breath. Another none-too-pleasant thought, but he shoved it away and dismounted, turning off the engine in the process and quickly pocketing his keys once both feet were on the ground.
“Let’s get this over with, then...”
Dom held his helmet in one hand, the bag of food in the other, and headed around so he could walk in through the front door. He figured it was probably safer to do that than trying to sneak in through a backdoor exit -- it might actually give someone the wrong idea or something like that. It didn’t help that he was wearing black from head to toe, his zipped up jacket hiding the splash of color that he was, in fact, wearing underneath. So. Better safe than sorry.
But the trip up didn’t take very long at all -- she lived on the second floor, so he actually opted to take the stairs -- probably because his mind had likely over-dramatized how long it’d actually take for someone to realistically make their way up two flights of stairs and down a hallway. TV shows usually did those scenes in slow-mo, or dragged them out somehow, which was how he’d been imagining the situation. With his brain on what seemed like a permanent overdrive, although the hangover he’d woken up with had long since gone, he could feel a very different sort of headache starting to come on the closer he got to her floor. Even more so as he approached her door, and then he shut his eyes tight as soon as he was standing right in front of it. And he took another deep breath. Again.
“This sucks…” he muttered under his breath, not liking the idea of having to apologize for having done something pretty serious. And he knew it was, which was why he was so nervous about it. What if she didn’t forgive him? What if she didn’t even open the door? Honestly, he knew (or maybe he hoped?) their relationship -- whatever it actually was, he sometimes couldn’t tell -- could handle at least this much, but that didn’t mean she’d be willing to let him off the hook so easily. If at all…
---- continued in [...and the Aftermath]...
00. RP Log
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Posted: Mon Mar 02, 2015 9:50 pm
Solo
Title: Dark Temptations
Characters: Ashur
Status: Complete
Summary: Ashur meets a Negaverse Lieutenant who, after a number of brief encounters, takes advantage of his down-and-out state of mind and convinces him to meet with a General Queen.
Word Count: 3480
Link: [click]
Notes: Solo x6, backdated to between June and December 2014.
00. RP Log
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Posted: Mon Mar 02, 2015 11:10 pm
Wonder
Title: In the City
Characters: Ashur, Alya
Status: Complete
Summary: Ashur visits his Wonder to escape his troubles, and Alya proceeds to help him in this endeavor with much success. As she leads him through the city, Ashur is reminded of how the city itself has its own way of bringing him peace.
Word Count: 839
Link: [click]
Notes: Solo x1, backdated to September 2014.
00. RP Log
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Posted: Sat Mar 07, 2015 10:10 pm
Battle
Title: By Choice
Characters: Ashur, Laurelite, Themiscyra, Valhalla, Kairatos, Camelot
Status: Incomplete
Summary: --
Word Count: --
Link: [click]
Notes: Backdated to mid-February 2015.
00. RP Log
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 3:25 am
Regular
Title: Inching Forward
Characters: Dominic, Danika
Status: Incomplete
Summary: --
Word Count: --
Link: [click]
Notes: Backdated to March 2015.
00. RP Log
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Posted: Thu Nov 26, 2015 1:45 pm
Solo
Title: A Small Change
Characters: Dominic
Status: Complete
Summary: Dominic is finally out and about in the world again, and decides that it's time for a little change.
Word Count: 1033
Notes: Solo x2, backdated to June 2015.
-----
It was hard to tell when things started falling into place again, a more normal place than it'd been for him in months. The pressure to remember the pieces of his old life that had gone missing was easing a bit, and while some memories were trickling back--some of Danika, some of his school, some of his friends and family--it was much slower than anyone could have anticipated. After months of getting back into the swing of what his life had been they were beginning to understand that there was nothing they could do to rush it. Especially not when his effort to force the memories back was met with such resistance that it could knock him out cold if he pushed too hard. And when he pushed, he always pushed himself to the brink.
The months immediately after the incident had been trying, to say the least. Adjusting to life crashing on his supposed girlfriend's couch and going through hours of google documents consisting of project ideas and miscellaneous nonsense, never mind even more hours of videos of him working on said projects (and mostly failing, apparently) and the projects themselves. There were also the boxes of puzzles he spent quite a bit of time solving and resolving; it wasn't hard to fall back into his love for the Rubix Cube and all other manner of puzzles. It was primarily what helped him cope and deal with the stress of the last year or so being severely swiss-cheesed by...Laurelite.
That name he couldn't forget, nor the pain that had wracked his entire body that night. It was ingrained into his memory, almost as a nightmarish replacement of what had been lost.
Progress was slow, but there. Surprisingly there had been moments of clarity amidst the struggle of getting back his old memories. Some decisions became easier, no longer muddled with perhaps memories of things from his past that prevented him from pressing forward with them, like his major. Two years after high school and he'd finally settled on one. That particular decision came to him no more than a week ago, actually. It made sense to him, and while he'd taken a break to recover from arguably the worst night of his life he knew what he would be pursuing in the Fall.
The thought brought a smile to his lips as he walked, his too-long hair being tossed by the passing breeze.
It was a significant one, and perhaps the only one that came easily to him. Others were still proving to be a challenge. Calling his family had taken a month or so, catching up with some friends had taken even longer. And more importantly there was her.
Danika was still....at this point a big question mark. He couldn't deny that there was something there still, a twinge or occasional ache in his chest when they were together, like something was inherently missing. He'd seen the pictures on his phone and the ones on the refrigerator; they'd been happy for a time, before that night. Despite everything she was still there, willing to help him sort things out as much as he could only imagine it hurt her to not be able to act as she always did with him.
There'd been clips and videos of that, too. Them goofing off, cuddled on the couch for a movie or TV show, sometimes even petty little arguments that always ended in a hug or a kiss or some form of affection that he, in his state, couldn't really understand. What glimpses he did have mattered, too, and it showed a version of him that really, truly loved her.
Those glimpses were memories of his, and his alone, yet whatever feelings they invoked...well. It was hard to deny but at the same time he couldn't say that the current version of him felt exactly the same way. It was frustrating, to say the least. But he was working on it, as he often said with a small and quiet smile before he huddled back into the couch to work on another puzzle or read another project document or basically do something else that would help jog his memory.
Four months of that and now here he was, a little worse for wear but still alive and about, still functioning and still trying to get his life back in order. The nightmares were still there, the daily struggles were still there but things were progressing. Changing, and hopefully for the better.
Today's ordeal was a simple, basic change. In the months leading up to today, he'd spent most of his time holed up in the apartment, shying away from the world perhaps out of fear or hesitation or uncertainty. But enough was enough. This was nothing huge, no one's life hung in the balance with this small decision of his. His memories certainly wouldn't be affected, and it would in no way have any effect on the decisions he'd made thus far nor in the ones he'd still yet to make.
No, today he was just going in for a simple haircut. A small change, but a change nonetheless, and still hopefully for the better. It marked the point in time after the incident that he felt strong enough to go out into the world again, to press on even if there were still way too many missing pieces for his comfort. He needed a shave, as well, as his once-goatee slowly but surely grew into the mess of a bear it was today.
So with a huff and a puff he pushed open the door to a place recommended by his uncle--yes, he'd gotten in touch with them recently, which was a relief as he did remember that he had a young cousin that he was rather fond of. The little bell atop the door signaled his entry, and his cerulean blues met a pair of hazel eyes hidden behind gray, bushmen eyebrows.
"Afternoon, son," the old man greeted with a chuckle. "Pull up a chair and we'll get you cleaned up soon enough."
He smiled and did as he was told, the words "cleaned up" certainly ringing rather true. He liked this place already.
00. RP Log
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Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 11:10 pm
Regular
Title: Roll the Dice!
Characters: Dominic, Terry
Status: Incomplete
Summary: --
Word Count: --
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 11:50 pm
ORP
Title: Technology's Bounty
Characters: Ashur, (a lot of knights)
Status: Complete
Summary: The knights have been summoned once again in order to facilitate Mistral's announcement regarding yet another upgrade to signet rings, as well as distribute said upgrade.
Word Count: --
Link: [click]
Notes: --
00. RP Log
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