Role Playing - THE WORKSHOP: One-on-one short play. Newbies welcome! - Page 5

degausser · 05-17-2015, 06:19 PM

Sydney Jordan
I hope you haven’t kept anyone waiting.

It was not the same casual inquiry she had made moments prior. She had refamiliarized herself with that tone shortly after he reappeared in her life after being absent from it for near on five years. Sydney liked to think she had matured over the years, her skin growing additional layers to ward her against moments such as these. She turned at her heal as only he knew she would and met his gaze, her sixteen-year-old self threatening to come through and unfold before those piercing blue-green eyes of his. It was the first time he had acknowledged there had been someone new in her life, even if that someone had been kept at arm’s length as the few men she had ever allowed into her life had always been, lingering there along the periphery but never fully accepted into her heart.

Her face reflected the emotions his prodding and insults ignited in her, being equal parts vexed and exasperated. “His name is Jonathon,” she said calmly. Sydney held his gaze for a few deliberate beats, refusing to be bated, before stepping inside the elevator. Why he should care or have cause to be jealous was beyond her at this point. To answer the obvious challenge posed to her would only play into his hands. “Yes, Elizabeth told me as much herself.” She smiled an empty, polite smile at him, before diverting her gaze to the numbered buttons on the elevator. “And no, I haven't kept him or anyone else waiting,” she said in response to his earlier comment. The truth was she and Jonathon had spoken little upon returning from Richmond. There schedules often conflicted and she had not exactly gone out of her way to seek him out of her own accord.

“And he’s not a bore.” Sydney said while shooting Christian a look of reproach, evidentially bated after all, exiting the elevator before the doors had fully opened.

winter soldier · 05-17-2015, 06:52 PM

OOC: I shamelessly mixed sci-fi canons for this but then who's stopping me?

Soren
DC-302 had seen better days. Hundreds of years ago, probably. From what Soren could glean from his (repeated) visits, the detention center still bore many of the trappings of an old terran prison, a majority of cells blocked off with old-fashioned steel bars and lock-and-key door mechanisms and a charming dankness that announced it for what it was—the jail for rejects, not important or dangerous enough to warrant higher tech and stricter security. Which could explain why he’d weaseled his way out of more than his fair share of life sentences—arbitrary though they were, because Soren had never gone so far as to murder or sexually assault anyone but he’d done just about everything in between. Space justice officials weren’t known for their judiciousness, less the heavily-legislated shadows of their former compatriots on Terra Prime, more the ‘death or ~~exile~~ detention’ types that couldn’t be bothered to figure out if you were actually guilty or not, much less dole out an appropriate punishment. Fortunately, there was infinite space for detention centers, planets dedicated entirely to them as well as free-floating colonies, because the cells filled fast but emptied at a glacial pace, ‘life sentences’ beginning at some 20 standard years for some species, and ending hundreds of years later for others.

Soren himself had no idea the extent of his own life expectancy, never having actually known another being with his abilities but then he’d grown up a refugee on a floating drifter colony, full of all sorts of mismatched miscreants and he’d never truly gone to the trouble of naming his species nor seeking any of them out. He rather liked being an individual. It was a healthy stroke to his ego, among other things.

Perhaps if he’d ever bothered to kill someone, or someones, and warrant a trip to a higher class facility, their genetic scans might’ve named him as something (in order to fit his confinement to his racial traits and abilities) and he’d know for sure, but then he’d also likely never escape, and then being able to call himself a “____” just didn’t seem worth it. He was a “Soren,” often a ‘Terran’, occasionally a ‘Blilon’, a ‘Ch’Korgan’, a ‘Sokerari’, etc etc etc.

Most recently, he was a Terran bounty hunter. Jayne (and DC-302) knew him as Paz Jamoor, a bit of drifter trash who happened to be very handy at tracking down targets with his omni-tool and therefore worthy enough to become his business partner. From what few jobs they’d completed together, Soren had enjoyed the work more than he’d anticipated—it was novel, being on the other side of a photon rifle and a pair of hand-cuffs for once. Jayne wasn’t so unbearable, either, so long as he had enough alcohol in him to smooth his rough edges, but not so much as to mysteriously get himself arrested… and require Soren to land himself in the very same prison to spring him out.

He spared a glance to the snoring, booze-soaked wreck behind him before turning his attention to Kai—perhaps the only one of the three of them at that moment who actually deserved to be there, or somewhere else with way more security doors and fancy robot drones programmed to kill on sight. “Breakfast. That’s funny. Protein dextro-paste doesn’t exactly qualify, in my opinion.”

fleur captives · 05-17-2015, 07:57 PM

Christian
He knew he had struck a nerve when she turned on her heel to face him. After all, that was precisely what he had been aiming to do, and Christian was rewarded with the same reaction he had gotten out of her time and time again. Sydney's eyes locked on his, but said nothing, not at first. Her face betrayed her, but her tone was calm and even, unlike the apparent look of exasperation. He followed her into the elevator, pressing the button for the bottom floor, and spun the keys in his hand absentmindedly as she continued, her attention now placed anywhere that wasn't him.

"Over so soon?" he said, matching her casual tone, but the underlying emotion was anything but indifferent, disinterested. Although he had done his best to keep his distance from her in recent months, he could not help the rush of satisfaction that rose at the thought that her new interest had already gone, and that she was mercifully free of attachment at the moment. He didn't bother to acknowledge her protest that her suitor, present status unknown, was not a bore. "Perhaps it is, or isn't, but either way, he missed out on a perfect opportunity. A girl like you shouldn't be without plans on a Friday night," he said, trying not to call to memory any number of Friday evenings that had come before where they were the two out on the town, and instead focus on her lack of plans.

The elevator doors opened at the ground floor and he waited for her to disembark before following her. "You can tell him I said that," he added mischievously, breaking out ahead of her, and opening the door to the street, holding it for her to pass. "If you ever see him again, of course."

Canadarox · 05-17-2015, 08:33 PM

Brock

It had to been obvious, he would take the bigger one.
" That"
He motioned to the bigger one before charging at him the same time he did. Sword clanking. A few more blicks on both men parts, then a wound here and there on the other guy. The big one got him on the chest but not deep. He was swift for a big guy but then again Brock was too. This one was more of a fight then his friend that lost his head earlier that day.

degausser · 05-17-2015, 10:07 PM

Sydney Jordan
She could not be out of that elevator soon enough. The wisest thing she could have done in that moment was to keep walking, leaving Christian with only her back to speak to. She sensed it was going to be one of those kind of nights though, because he moved deliberately and was suddenly at the door in front of her. Keep walking, she silently urged herself. Ignore him. Had someone given her that advice when she was a young, naïve girl of sixteen back in Richmond she might have been able to heed it now. His words continued to cut her to her very core however, resonating in a way he probably did not intend them to.

The missed opportunity was Jonathon’s, yet Sydney could have said the same of Christian. How many times had they done this dance now? How many opportunities had been missed on his part? How many blunders was he responsible for? Probably just as many as her, to be fair.

Doing the exact opposite of what her inner voice had urged, Sydney stopped directly in front of Christian. Part of her wanted to slap that smug expression right off his face. Another part of her wanted to do something else entirely. “Who said I was without plans?” She smiled coyly at him. Sydney did not need another man in her life to facilitate any good times she might have. She was perfectly cable of finding a good time on her own. Or had he already forgotten? “There’s a new bar that opened a couple of blocks from here I wanted to check out. They supposedly have several rare beer imports on tap.” She held his gaze intently, boldly, for her anyway, presenting him with an open invitation to join her.

She waited another long beat before moving out onto the street. The New York City air was warm and muggy, but still managed to cool her skin. “Come if you’d like,” she crooned over her shoulder, before continuing down the street indifferently.

“Or don’t.”

Jayne Forrester
Jayne had been dreaming. It was a strange, alcohol induced dream that tended to blend certain realities and fictions together that had no right intermingling with one another. He dreamed of his late wife and the child they created together. It was his last memory of her and one of the few happier ones he credited to himself. She stood on their porch, the babe cradled in her arms as the sun gleamed in her golden hair. She kissed him as she had always done countless times before, whenever he left for work. He’d thought little of the moment at the time, expecting there would be more where that came from in the future. When she pulled away, her blonde hair was replaced with an unwashed, dirty brown shade. And her face was angry and willful.

And then she swung at him.

The crack that sounded as her elbow connected with his face is what woke him up.

He woke to a mouth dry as sand and his head throbbing like an absolute mother fucker. Jayne groaned loudly, the poorly lit cell still bright enough to leave him scrambling to find something to shade his eyes. His hand would have to do for the time being. He was vaguely aware of other people in the room with him, and it took several long moments for his eyes to adjust. It was the smell he noticed first. The air was heavy with mildew, mold and regret. Or maybe it was just him?

Jayne lifted an arm, took a whiff of his armpit, and then recoiled repulsively at his own smell. “Bloody hell,” he muttered out loud, rubbing his head. The others around him spoke of breakfast and Jayne was vaguely aware of his partner being in … wherever the hell they were in. There was a woman as well.

The woman from his dream.

He locked eyes with her and held her gaze. And then he keeled over the side of the bench and began to vomit the entire contents of the previous night’s bender from his mouth.

AtomicEmpress · 05-18-2015, 02:26 AM

Elisa
She hugged him tightly in her arms and laughed when he apologized for the eating of her cereal.
"Well, it seems like such a small thing in the grand scheme of it all."
She looked at him when he asked about her life.
"The most interesting thing about my life really is my work. I work for a publishing company. I love it but it can take up a lot of time. I haven't seriously dated in a...while."
She admitted to him, leaving out the part about how her last relationship had ended because she had pushed him away. She had built walls around her heart after Tate's 'death' and it was a difficult to even have close friendships when she had that against her.
"What about you? Do you have someone wherever you live?"
She asked, hopefully.

Bigby
He picked up a large mirror, the looking glass facing away from him and toward Ash.
"This is the mirror of the Evil Queen."
Bigby said, in the mirror a face appeared and looked right at Ash and began to speak in rhyme trying to entice her to keep it out and use it to gain her deepest wishes.
"Oh, shut up."
He put the mirror away with the glass facing the shelf.
"Don't listen to that thing. Tries it every time without fail."
He said rolling his eyes.

Emmeline
"Is it sexist that you took the big one?"
She asked as her sword clashed with the second highlanders. She went to the right and her sword came down and clipped his arm. He screamed out but still they fought on. He jumped over the couch and she went around. She could hear the sounds of Brock fighting but could not spare the focus to look over at him.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel
She walked from her office down to the staff elevator and went the two floors to the criminally insane floor. There was extra security on this floor, naturally. She had just come back to work after a extended absence after the suicide of her fiance, Guy, He had been a medical doctor with a bright future at Gotham General and something just snapped. Everyone seemed to want to know why the brilliant young Dr. Quinzel didn't figure out that her own fiance was suicidal in time to help him. No one had said as much yet but it seemed to hang in the silence. She pulled out her keycard and slid it into the lock as she stood in front of a door. There was a guard at the door and he nodded to her. She walked in and looked over at Jack Napier. He was being called the Joker, she didn't know if the name had originated with Jack himself or the newspapers. His crime had been flaying someone alive. She had read all of his tests and files and was highly intrigued with his psychological profile.
"Hello, Jack, I'm Dr. Quinzel. I'll be taking over your case."

fleur captives · 05-18-2015, 04:17 AM

Christian
Come if you'd like. Or don't.

The last thing he would have expected out of Sydney Jordan right then was an open invitation for him to join her at a nearby bar. It seemed unlikely that she would be unable to surprise him after so many years, let alone what had transpired in that time of having witnessed her in every light imaginable and some not previously considered, but here it was, an unexpected offer. The only evidence of his surprise was an upturn of his brow but his tongue was stilled momentarily as a result as he set to work locking the door they came out of. 7:58, his mind supplied, his back turned to her as she left him and departed down the street, and he dared to glance up only long enough to see her back moving out of sight. Christian gathered his wits momentarily, and took off behind her, briefcase and all.

"It happens I rather like," he had caught her by then and had bent low enough to breathe his words into her ear at the crosswalk where she had stopped.

Game, set, match. The two had reverted to their former selves without a single thought of doing so and Christian did not think he could turn back from it now even if he wanted to. And who was to say he wanted to at all? It had been him the last time -- the final time, he'd thought -- that had pulled away. Four months ago, it had been him, not this new character in her life, who had been the one to take her out to dinner, to wine and dine her. It had been a different experience; in the last two years since they started working together, their relationship had gone in all manner of directions, and either she put an end to it or he did before too long, before an actual attachment could form. But they always seemed to come back together, one way or another, after a time. The silence that overcame them would disappear and they would fall into step as if nothing had happened, much as it was now.

The light changed, giving them the signal to cross, and he slid in beside Sydney, looking over at her as they walked. "Did your dear friend Jonathon get the same invitation or is this excursion limited to my charming company only?"

sumiregusa · 05-18-2015, 06:32 AM

OOC: *rises from de grayve*

Hi all! It's me, the one you didn't miss. I will be bringing in certain characters for certain people named Letty, but I am also open to any fun times lines and ideas with anyone who was interested. Stay tuned. ~*~*~**

fleur captives · 05-18-2015, 06:38 AM

OOC:

Welcome back Janine!

sumiregusa · 05-18-2015, 06:41 AM

OOC: Leighaaaa!

degausser · 05-18-2015, 10:35 AM

Jack Napier
This was an entirely new experience for Jack Napier, and then all at the same time … it wasn’t. Four walls enclosed him in a small space, a fact that might have disturbed him were he not already used to small spaces from when he had been a child. His four wall cell at the time had not been near so literal as it was now but rather a closet, one his mother would lock him in when his father came home drunk and belligerent and one he would later volunteer himself for when the three of them became two and there was no one left to buffer the drunken onslaughts. So Jack Napier was quite comfortable at the moment, you see.

This cell was slightly larger and had better lighting. The easier for him to read whenever he was permitted. Mostly he just meditated. And occasionally he chatted with his guard through the small slit in the door that was used to bring him food. Well, Jack chatted anyway. It was mostly a one way conversation.

Mostly.

He had managed to get a few words out of his guard. And what interesting words they were. They were about someone else, but they spoke entirely of his own infatuation with the woman in question. And the woman in question had just walked through the door. Dr. Harleen Quinzel. He saw immediately how young she was. Mid-twenties. Could not have been older than twenty-seven. How curious that someone so young should get a case such as his. Either she fucked the right people or she was some kind of prodigal genius. There was only one way to find out.

“Hello Harleen,” he greeted jovially. If she was alarmed by the fact that he knew her first name, she masked it well enough. “So you’re the lucky one that gets to crack the nut that is The Joker.” He said the moniker that had been given to him as if he were reading it straight out of a newspaper for the first time. “How very fortunate for you.”

Sydney Jordan
Sydney had only the sound of her soft footsteps on the pavement for company and she wanted to believe she had at last reached a point where she could remain indifferent to anything he might chose to do or not do, yet she listened hopefully for the sound of an extra set of footsteps all the same. She was fully prepared to accept the fact that her invitation had been ignored when that extra pair of footsteps sounded behind her. Her gaze fixed on the blinking red hand across the street as he moved in behind her, his breath warm at her ear as he spoke. The hair at her arms stood on end in that moment as she continued to watch the pedestrian signal at the far end of the street, willing it to change before she inevitably regressed and her mind called to memory all the other places on her body those lips at her ear had traversed before.

When it changed, the breath she'd been holding came out in a hiss.

Her gaze remained fixed on a point far off in the distance even as he fell into step with her. More questions about Jonathon, more baiting. She paused just as they reached the curb at the far end of the street to fiddle with the pins in her hair, fixing him with another agitated glare. Yet there was a glint of satisfaction there as well. Christian could be both vexing and thrilling all at the same time, which must have made her a masochist or why else put up with it? She denied him the satisfaction of an immediate response and resumed her brisk walk once her hair had been freed from its confinement.

Long, dark locks fell over her shoulders and she combed the snarls out idly with her fingers. “Yours was an exclusive invitation.” Wasn’t he the lucky one? “Whether or not your company proves charming remains to be seen,” she added sounding doubtful. Until she peeked over at him, her lightly painted lips teasing a genuine smile.

fleur captives · 05-18-2015, 12:52 PM

Christian
He placed his hand over his heart and looked at her with faked hurt apparent on his features. "Sydney, you wound me," Christian answered, deadpan, before dropping his hand back to his side. On the inside, however, he thought the lack of extended invitation to her 'friend' made him less of a threat than previously thought, and therefore no longer worth the effort taken to tease and bait her with. Watching as she shook out her hair, he found it hard to occupy his mind elsewhere, and found that his gaze lingered on Sydney longer than he cared for. He had made considerable strides in the last eight years, he thought, going through college and on to graduate school and secured himself a decent job in New York. But somehow, standing beside her, he found himself regressing back to age nineteen, and everything that made their lives so difficult had fallen away for this moment in time.

But the reality of it all was Christian could will things to change all he wanted but there would always be someone standing in the way; Elizabeth Donahue, Eden Jordan, and most importantly, themselves. It was the only logical reason he could give her if she dared to ask why he had taken a step back from her the last time. Their relationship had taken many paths, from friends to lovers to enemies and back again, but each time they came together, he could feel a little more of his armor falling away and her growing closer to him. It wasn't a feeling that he relished; if anything, it had frightened him, made him feel powerless and weak. He had spent so much peddling games and drawing her into them against her will that he had no concept of how to proceed on level-footing. Of how to be in a relationship, of how to ... love her, if that was even what it was. "I think you'll find my company as charming as ever," he smirked when she looked back at him. "Though, it remains to be seen how your company fares for the evening, with cheek like that."

degausser · 05-18-2015, 01:42 PM

Sydney
I think you’ll find my company as charming as ever. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. If by charming he meant insufferable and exasperating, then yes, she anticipated he would be as ‘charming’ as ever. And once again the question begged as to why she would subject herself to such torment, knowing how this was all likely to end. “I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” she remarked innocently through coy, fluttering lashes. It was starting to become habitual between the two. They would find themselves in a situation such as this one, flirting with the notion that they could ever be more than anything they had ever been, and then something would happen to make one or the other pull away and resume ignoring one another for several long months at a time. Only to do it all again when a new moment presented itself, doomed to endure a never ending cycle of passion, rejection and frustration.

Sydney must have still clung to the belief that one day that cycle would end itself, or else why keep doing this to herself? What was the definition of insanity again? Doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result?

She ruminated over their situation as they continued on down the street side by side. “How about this. I will agree to be less cheeky if you agree to drop the subject of Jonathon from here on out.” They came upon the bar in that moment, pausing before the entrance as she turned to face him head on. “And if you agree to at the very least make an effort to cease in your attempts to mercilessly rile me up.” I know the game you play, Christian Jenkins. Her gaze seemed to suggest. You don’t fool me. She held out her palm expectantly, curious to see if he would accept her terms. Compromise had never been his strong suit.

fleur captives · 05-18-2015, 02:41 PM

Christian
"Of course you would have no idea what I am talking about." Christian tried not to openly scoff at the idea that she really believed herself to be without pretension. "But you can't play innocent forever, Sydney Jordan, it's unbecoming," he couldn't hold back from rolling his eyes when she insinuated that she had no idea what he meant by cheek. Over time, she had begun to develop a thicker skin after dealing with him for so long, and found herself capable on occasion of repaying him in kind for each and every one of his remarks. It never bothered him when she tried to agitate him in turn, finding it more amusing than anything else, but the experience was not nearly as gratifying as it was for him to get under her skin.

It was almost too easy sometimes; she knew him as well, if not better, than he knew her ... Christian knew exactly what buttons to press, how to poke and prod to get his desired reaction, and when he had gone too far. She would respond with a frustrated sigh, a flaring of nostrils, and if he had succeeded in irritating her, there would be a quickly fired retort, meant to end the to-and-fro that would only serve to prolong it. He knew how to play the game and play it well; so did she, even if Sydney tried to act as if she were innocent, it wasn't all Christian in their game of cat and mouse. "While I can attest that I have no intention of the former," it wasn't a ploy, he spoke truthfully, as he had already exhausted the comedic value of Jonathan in conversation. Somewhere around the moment he realized that she held little interest in the man, he had become no longer worth mentioning, to the point that he had to struggle to remember the name that had been clear to him seconds before.

"I will at least attempt not to rile you up," he said, mirroring her innocent look from earlier, though it was far more difficult to believe on his face than it had been on hers. "That is the most I can promise, my dear Sydney."

degausser · 05-18-2015, 03:23 PM

For Janine

Name/Age: Christopher Graham / Twenty-Nine
Role/Connection: Environmentalist Renegade/Corporate drone / ~~Shameless stalker~~ I mean sort of boyfriend
Played By: Jesse Lacey

Sydney Jordan
An effort was all she could hope for, and he promised he would give her at least that much with a look of innocence she suspected he hadn’t known for some time now. His eyes glimmered with the trademark Christian Jenkins mischief, and she knew better than to be duped into a false sense of security. “I guess that’ll have to do then.” She continued to watch him expectantly, her gaze flickering down to her still empty, outstretched hand, then back up at him. Then a dip of her head directed at her waiting hand. Finally, he took it and their temporary truce was finalized with a firm shake.

It was the first touch they had shared in over four months, innocent though it was, yet Sydney found herself struggling to keep from ascribing it more meaning than was merited. She sought distraction in the bar they had come upon and was the first to venture inside. A small crowd had already gathered and above the clamor of voices a guitar and a soulful voice crooned from speakers in the ceiling. Don’t take this the wrong way, you knew who I was with every step that I ran to you. The bar was large enough to house several table games. She noticed people dancing through an open doorway that led to an outdoor patio. At the center stood a long bar, her intended destination.

She slid into an empty stool, requested a drink menu, and idly tapped her foot in time to the music that continued to play.

Only blue or black days, electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose.
Would things be easier if there was a right way?
Honey, there is no right way.

“See anything that strikes your fancy?” She asked, alluding to the menu they were both hunched over.


Fan Forum > Archived General Discussion > Role Playing > THE WORKSHOP: One-on-one short play. Newbies welcome!