little_pieces_of_time: Max realizing her nose is bleeding, seeing the blood on her fingers. (don't over-do it)
[personal profile] little_pieces_of_time
(OOM: "All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt.")

(Content Warning for this OOM include: mentions of domestic violence and drug use, guns, threats of violence, blood, and death.)

Max still felt a little unmoored and light-headed by the time Chloe dropped her off and she stepped back through the doors of Blackwell again. And she wasn't ashamed at the heady relief that flooded her upon seeing Milliways instead of her school. She shouldn't feel that glad about it, but the morning had been... rough. More than rough.

She could still feel remembered terror like a knot in her chest, tightening her throat and turning her stomach. She wanted to scream. She... she kind of needed to scream. If she didn't let it out, it would just sit there in her throat, choking her while she struggled to focus in Mr. Jefferson's class.

So it wasn't so much an executive decision as something Max just did, then, when she made a detour by the couch to snag one of the thickest throw pillows, and took it with her to the bathroom. It was probably best to have a solid door between her and the rest of the place, even with the thick, fluffy pillow to help muffle the sound.

It helps, screaming. It really does. Screaming doesn't solve anything, but it does something. It puts raw effort and sound into what one keeps bottled up, what one can't explain. And once the seal is broken, everything starts to come out, it pours out. Even after her throat was sore and she had run out of energy to scream, she cried into that pillow until she was out of tears.

Eventually, after a long while, Max emerged from the bathroom. She had washed her face and dried her eyes. Her throat hurt, her eyes burned, and her head felt squashy from crying so hard, but she no longer felt like she was about to explode from pent-up... whatever that was.

She couldn't think of anything to order at first, when she approached the counter, standing there quietly with the pillow. Kindly, the Bar manifested a napkin asking if the pillow needed washing. Max ducked her head, grateful, and set the much-cried-upon pillow on the counter to be... whisked away to be cleaned, presumably.

Max was thirsty, but... she didn't want to sit, either. Instead of ordering from the bar, she made her way into the kitchen to make herself a cup of the strongest tea she could find.
little_pieces_of_time: Max, blurred, holding her head as reality begins to bend and tear. (over-doing it)
[personal profile] little_pieces_of_time
(OOM: (Needing to have reality confirmed and experience enhanced by photographs is an aesthetic consumerism to which everyone is now addicted. Industrial societies turn their citizens into image-junkies; it is the most irresistible form of mental pollution.)

Breaking the early morning quiet of the bar, Max Caulfield stumbled backwards through the door, the impact sending the door swinging open to bounce off the wall behind it. Beyond its frame is a trashed dorm room, clothes and books strewn across the floor and with angry red graffiti scrawled across a photo collage wall over a twin bed.

With shaking hands, Max grabbed the door and shut it firmly, leaning against its solidity to brace against the dizziness that threatens to overwhelm her and trying like mad to regulate her shallow, frantic breaths into something that will calm her racing heart.

[oom content warnings include bullying, depression, reference to potential sexual assault, terroristic threatening]
spartankingleonadias: (Default)
[personal profile] spartankingleonadias
OOC: (This is an open invitation from the old Spartan King to visit ancient Sparta)

As the ancient king of the past opens the door, he extends a welcome to anyone who wishes to visit Ancient Sparta. The King eyes the door and the bar, watching if anyone is particularly interested.

(There are two prompts you are welcome to choose!)


Welcome to Ancient Sparta, there's quite a burst of activities going on...

The Spartans, decked in red are near a campfire with one very prominent member (Captain) yelling out words of encouragement and tales of success and conquest.

You can decide to join them for tales of a different time

-Leonida's wife is out in full force, worried about the City-State of Sparta itself as she's discovered walking the grounds searching for something or.. someone.
childofrebellion: (tired listen)
[personal profile] childofrebellion
OOM: Are you still listening?

(OOC: Mentions of war, nothing explicit just ghosts.)
for_everyone: (have hope)
[personal profile] for_everyone
[OOM: After her first mission back to Ryloth, Hera needs some catharsis.

And a couple of overdue conversations.]
5ame_heart: (helmet and gun)
[personal profile] 5ame_heart
[A long time ago*
On a planet far far away**:

CT-89-2874

and many many others, including very nearly CT-27-5555]


* For Hera
**from Coruscant

[CN: Canon-typical violence.]
hat_and_dimples: (Loving spreadsheets)
[personal profile] hat_and_dimples
[[OOM: An agreement kept]]


Jin Guangyao is lying on the rug before the fireplace, his hat on an ottoman behind him, teacup at his elbow. In his free hand, he holds his tablet computer, which he occasionally prods and pokes, changing things around with an expression of deep and satisfied happiness on his face.

Jin Guangyao just loves spreadsheets, and the organised plans they allow you to make.



[[OOC: This post is brought to you by the lovely doodle I received from one of the most original fan artists in the CQL/MDZS fandom. CW for the OOM for canon typical Jin Guangyao and emotional manipulation / blackmail. Also, the OOM happens several years before WWX's return; I just didn't get around to posting before.-]]
hat_and_dimples: (Cat -- golden snake)
[personal profile] hat_and_dimples
Two cats come downstairs into the bar.

(That's it. That's the EP)


[[OOC: They will be all over the place! Say whether you want Jiggy or Yrael, or you'll get both of them.]]

tinytag: jin guangyao
for_everyone: (testing her mettle)
[personal profile] for_everyone
[OOM: After an attempt to make an ally goes wrong, Kanan has to find an alternative.

And later, Hera faces the fallout.

Spoilers through Star Wars Rebels 2x13]
5ame_heart: (helmet)
[personal profile] 5ame_heart

The door opens on a flurry of ice air and angry snowfall, letting in Fives and a small snowdrift before he can heave it shut.

At least, it's probably Fives. His helmet and shoulder don't have their usual artwork on today, because he isn't wearing his usual armor, but cold weather specialist gear that doesn't get used often enough to bother customising.

It's also not as protective as his usual armor, as can be assumed from the foot-long length of partial spear and the growing patches of red both around that and on one of his arms.

He limps determinedly towards the bar, picks up a few bacta patches in his good hand, and on to the infirmary.

It saves Kix having to worry about him anyway.
daringyoungman: ([Dick] vow)
[personal profile] daringyoungman
 [OOM: It's a very confusing time not to have adults around you can talk to about this stuff.]



Dick is in all black. Track pants and a sweatshirt, but at least his gloves and balaclava aren't visible so he doesn't look too much like a teenage assassin? Just a kid who hasn't yet grown his bangs out into his emo phase.

He's also sitting in a booth, with a piece of paper in front of him and the end of a pen in his mouth, wondering how on earth he's going to start this letter.

Dear Bruce seems like a good start.
for_everyone: (have hope)
[personal profile] for_everyone
[OOM: After their escape from Garel, Hera relays a message for Commander Sato, and then reaches out to Kanan.

Spoilers through Star Wars Rebels 2x11.]
5ame_heart: (Default)
[personal profile] 5ame_heart
[Out of Milliways:

CT-57-327 | CT-62-42 | CT-00-2010
CT-09-909 | CT-56-4040 | CT-32-782

Or: Rishi Outpost is being guarded for a reason.]
 


[CW: Death.]