Time to Make the Donuts

[sockhopsolly]

THE ON-DUTY MEME



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.

Comments

Phobos ~ Starfighter ~ OTA

[dracoinspace]

1. Mechanics anonymous

[ Phobos groans as a component snags and sends dark foul-smelling oil spurting out of the half-dismantled control panel of his aircraft. Of fucking course. First a programming error, then a fried chip and now... this. He rummages in the pocket of his jumpsuit to find a hair tie and pull his hair up before returning to the task at hand.

His fingers are slick with oil, his peevish attempts to extricate the wires too clumsy, and the next thing he knows, the tool he was grasping in his hands arches into the air, bounces on the canopy, skids down a wing and clatters to the ground.

Phobos pops out of the cockpit. ]

"Hey, could someone give me a hand here?"


2. It's never too early to get smashed

(ooc: continues from previous)

[ Familiar laughter echoes in the hangar. It's Cain, jeering a him from his own ship. And that asshole is pointing at him. Does he have something on his face? He looks down at his hands. His fingers are coated with insulating oil. Oh shit, he probably does.

Irate, Phobos stands up in the cockpit and gives the other soldier the finger before scrambling down the ladder and skulking out, intent on the only destination worth his time on a day like this.

The on-base bar.

It's packed, already, and there is only one stool left. Phobos drops in it with a sigh, propping his chin up in his hands before he remembers he didn't take the time to clean them. Oh well. It's that kind of day. ]

"Whiskey. Keep it coming."

[ It's surprisingly packed, so early in the day. Might as well try to make small talk while he waits for his drink. ]

"What's your excuse for drinking so early?"