ƜуηηєfαƖѕнσηɗ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wynn) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
knightsoflegend2016-05-27 12:56 pm
wynn) wrote in knightsoflegend2016-05-27 12:56 pm
Entry tags:
open ♔ socialization log
WHO || Everyone! [ota]
WHAT || Shenanigans. THIS IS MOSTLY AN OVERFLOW POST for the last social log whoops
WHERE || Anywhere in the castle, surrounding environs, London, Andres, etc!
WHEN || Any time in May/June
HOW || Actionspam
[ The castle can be a happening place, even on more mundane days. This log is for random interactions over the course of these few months. Because not everyone is into parties, ok. Characters who are not currently squired in may also post, as their characters are living in the castle awaiting their ceremonies. This takes place after the Knights have returned from Dimitris' wedding.
You are encouraged to start your own threads and tag around, and feel free to threadjack into any on-going threads that aren't specified as 'closed' in the subject lines since people can enter into rooms even in the middle of what's going on. WE ARE BIG ON THREAD-JACKING HERE. You can also specify 'single thread', meaning you want only one response for all participants, rather than multi-thread, where a number of different scenes/threads can be done as replies to the top prompt.]
On this log:
Abbie & Crane
All along, she'd been telling herself that she was here for a reason. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself from going off the rails, convincing herself that this was a part of her calling. When she believed in it, it seemed only natural that Crane would follow, the way their destinies were supposed to be intertwined. The more time passed, the more she felt like maybe, just maybe, the two of them had used up all their chances.
Once more, however, they had beaten impossible odds. Every muscle had been wound tight on her way there, on edge as she waited to see that he was here with her own two eyes, but when she reaches the computer lab to find him scowling at one of the monitors and covered in toner, she relaxes. For the first time in ages, she almost feels like things are the way they're supposed to be, if only for a moment. Even if they weren't.
Nick had warned her, but she stubbornly refused to believe it until she saw for herself, like so many other things.]
Having computer trouble, Crane?
no subject
[ crane says it too quickly, too emphatically, to support it as truth.
his back straightens, lifting his face from the task before him. abbie wouldn't have to be the investigative workhorse she is to see what the pieces of this scene add up to:
the printer: paper drawer and toner carriage set aside. crane's hands and the front of his linen shirt blackened with powder that has left a single hand print on the desktop at his side. the keyboard, sporting the same dots of black -- and if she looks closer, the pink of his fingertips peeking through where toner has rubbed away.
on the computer is a map of the neighborhoods surrounding them, and under his hand which still holds a pencil, is a sketchy half-finished copy of said map. his lips draw upward, and nostrils flare as he looks up at her with what must be a very clear and loud signal of his irritation borne of ignorance and stubbornness. the blank look of a man meeting someone he woefully does not know for the very first time. he is, yet again, a man in foreign waters who looks like he's ready to threaten an island into view.
he doesn't comment on her apparent knowledge of his name, despite the bristling. ]
It's not my fault the art of craftsmanship is lost on this era.
no subject
But there's no denying that he doesn't know her. There's no glimmer of recognition or relief, no smile, no affectionate "leftenant." He sees her, and she means nothing to him.]
You're transcribing?
[She's sure he had mistrusted the printer to begin with. Whatever incident had followed and resulted in this was probably enough to put him off even attempting again for a week, at the very least.]
There are easier ways to do that, if you don't mind my lending a hand.
[Her Crane wouldn't have minded. He would have huffed, complained, but let her help. This Crane, who didn't know her? She was sure he would only be more stubborn, rebuff any and all offers of aid.]
no subject
Oh. I...
[ he perks up-- so used to locals chastising his habits and ill handling of technology before barking orders at him, that he is actually rather welcoming of this offer. it comes with no pressure and all the grace of a woman who must be self-possessed and--
his brow draws together again and he stands, folding his hands behind him in that position he's so fond of taking when doing investigating of his own. manners are certainly a tool for communication, but at times they may be wielded like a magnifying glass. ]
I'm certain you have more urgent matters to which you must attend, Sir. Considering you know my name and I yet sit ignorant of yours.
[ the sparkle in his eyes is as present as the stubbornness that abbie sees. he's no idea what her answer might be, but his gut pulls at him-- why is some random woman who knows him offering him help in a manner he does not often encounter? something, as the kids these days say, is fishy af. ]
no subject
She exhales. Right. Introductions.]
Lieutenant Abbie Mills.
[Her title doesn't mean anything here, not anymore, but it still means something to her. To both of them, in a way.]