http://metemmods.insanejournal.com/ (
metemmods.insanejournal.com) wrote in
metem_logs2011-07-19 05:42 pm
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The Ballroom Gathering
Characters: All
Date/Time: Now
Location: Hôtel Jeu Ancien - Ballroom
Rating: TBD
Warnings: TBD
Summary: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
All was in readiness. All of his guests were arrived and waiting, some more patiently than others. He anticipated quite a few reactions and a veritable bevy of questions. He was prepared.
He was testing out the slide projector while he waited for his guests to arrive in the ballroom, clicking through pictures of himself made specifically for this test. He paused on one of him before the front desk in a classic, male underwear model post yet still wearing his uniform. "Oh yes. One of my best."
[*lyrics: Kim Richey - A Place Called Home]
Date/Time: Now
Location: Hôtel Jeu Ancien - Ballroom
Rating: TBD
Warnings: TBD
Summary: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
All was in readiness. All of his guests were arrived and waiting, some more patiently than others. He anticipated quite a few reactions and a veritable bevy of questions. He was prepared.
He was testing out the slide projector while he waited for his guests to arrive in the ballroom, clicking through pictures of himself made specifically for this test. He paused on one of him before the front desk in a classic, male underwear model post yet still wearing his uniform. "Oh yes. One of my best."
[*lyrics: Kim Richey - A Place Called Home]
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"Idiot! Sit down and stay there."
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The hand that had been on his arm, ready to keep him in the chair became more of a subtle comforting touch and less of a grip. "I'm sorry."
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The difference and Chelsea and other children of Poseidon was she was his. She was the first kid that he'd had any hand in rearing, while not the best father, he was still her father. The fact that bellhop and whatever the fuck was behind this couldn't give him a clear answer did what it did to any father---it brought up a level of concern in the eye of danger. Where was she? He'd kept her locked up all this time as a protective barrier and now it was gone for however long this lasted.
"I don't want your pity," he spat back, his hand running over his mouth and chin and then looking back toward where Nigel continued his speech. Someone's neck was going to stretch.
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The day she pitied him would be the day someone should put a bullet through her skull.
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After a silent moment he jerked her hand back over slapping it down on his leg, his hand over top it. "Keep it there," she could dig those nails in all she wanted, he rather liked it. "Just keep away from the important parts if you want to get vicious." Someone needed to keep him grounded or there was no stopping him from being reckless.
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