sockhopsolly (
sockhopsolly) wrote in
toplvl2020-10-19 11:26 am
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Time to Make the Donuts

We're all used to playing our characters in special circumstances--sharing a bath, AUed into a robot, in the rain, lost in the ball pit (well that's one way to get your extra hour)...but how often do we get to actually play our characters doing their day jobs?
This meme is for just that.
INSTRUCTIONS
1. Write a starter about your character going about their day at work, wherever that may be.
If your character is a doctor, write them checking in on a patient, or having a meal in the hospital cafeteria. If they're a lawyer, write them at court. If they're a professional ghost-hunter? Yeah, that'd be a pretty neat starter too!
Be sure to include some sort of hook that allows other characters to join in the action, even if your character works alone. Maybe they brought their pile of research out to a cafe? Maybe they need help with something?
2. Respond to other characters' starters. Please tag out if you put a starter up. I know I can't enforce this, but no meme goes anywhere if people don't engage.
3. Thread. Have a good day at work, or perhaps an awful day at work.
Sorry about the wait! Main computer's undergoing a memory check.
Got you away from yer target, dinnit?
[He grins. Yeah, he'll lead with coy. Gives him time on how to explain the real reason he's here in Dawnstar.]
No problem!
[She hasn't let him go yet, though it's casual at this point, holding on like counting coup, not holding on like trying to completely restrict movement.]
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Wait—you're tellin' me you weren't about to shank somebody?
[Not that he's going to feel bad about having prevented a robbery, but it's a little harder to justify that as the reason why his recon mission went pear-shaped, compared to stopping a murder.]
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Yeah, well, wouldn't be da first time somebody dresses like dat when tryin' ta be stealthy.
[Subtly referring to himself, there, given how his armor normally looks without active camouflage. Though really, there's enough nominally-stealthy heroes (and villains) with the same sort of fashion sense to start a support group.]
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[She presses him down with her body a little. That said, she's an pretty light elf, this isn't a solid threat.]
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However, he's not supposed to be making a scene, and there's been quite a scene made already ... so he's willing to oblige Thiirien and not resist her pressing down on his body. That might change if the city guard shows up, though.]
I'm tryin' ta protect my home from somebody who might take yours as a shortcut.
[He can't ... really think of a better way to put it that might be easily understood.]
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That isn't to say Thiirien has a perfect understanding, but she takes that answer seriously, at least, and isn't too confused about the core concept of him coming from elsewhere.]
And where is your home, exactly?
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Nowhere near here, dat's fer sure. I'm from another place entirely.
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[A gesture at his rifle, and then a curious look.]
It'd make an odd club, so I assume it's meant to be more than that. Enchanted, perhaps? No, it doesn't have the gleam of magicka on it. So what is it?
Last tag from me for tonight, but I'll be back for more tomorrow!
S'a rifle. Kind of a ranged weapon, see. Don't use arrows, though, it fires bullets.
[He'd gesture to the bandolier of rifle cartridges across his chest if he could—they're not just for show!]
An' nah, it ain't enchanted. Better off enchantin' da ammo instead.
Sleep sweet, friend!
Like a crossbow, but using something other than tension to move the...bullet?
[The trigger mechanism even looks like crossbows and ballistae she's seen.]
Not really the point. I'm getting distracted, sorry. What plane do you hail from, and what exactly are you trying to do here?
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Besides, the fact she's outright asking which plane he's from causes David to realize that the people of this dimension might not be strangers to interdimensional travel. Can't mean anything else, he figures—if she's never seen a rifle, it's quite likely they don't have airplanes here. Which means people here probably haven't been anywhere near a dimension with a high-tech civilization. Nevertheless—]
You ever hear of a plane called Primal Earth?
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No, I haven't. Does that realm belong to some Daedric Demiprince?
[Most of the alternate planes Thiirien's aware of are ruled over by the Daedra--godlike entities. Though Primal Earth definitely isn't one of the major realms of Oblivion that the well-known Daedric Princes claim, so she's stumped.]
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Wha—y'mean like demons?
[David shakes his head a bit in emphasis.]
Naw, no way. 'Sa world more like dis. We're all human dere. Or, uh—mostly human.
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[Even if he hasn't caught the translation of 'mer', she gestures at her ears in a way that probably makes it obvious.]
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'Zat like elves? 'Cause I've seen a few where I live. Just, you guys ain't common. I'm guessin' most of 'em come from somewhere else.
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First time I've ever met a wood elf, den. But uh —s'kinda far from a forest, here, ain't it? Notta whole lotta trees.
[Of course, David's used to thinking of places like Perez Park, Salamanca, or Woodvale when he thinks "forest." Places where the trees are so thick you can quite literally walk around on the treetops without any trouble.]
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[Thiirien grew up in the woods many miles away, in the southeast end of the province. But that's still not the same as the beauty of Valenwood.]
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I bet da elves I've seen in Paragon City've got a similar story.
[And let's be honest—that's probably true of most of Paragon's non-human population. The majority of which, in turn, are either heroes or villains, owing to their superhuman natures.]