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bunchoflosers2013-05-03 02:58 am
makeyourownkindofmusic) wrote in bunchoflosers2013-05-03 02:58 am
Entry tags:
The Amended Powders Meme
1 - Tag in with your character
2 - Tag another character with a color of your choosing or generate one with RNG.
3 - Make a mess.
1- Pink is alcoholic, best described as freeze-dried whiskey.
2- Orange tastes like blackcurrant juice. It also gives you an amazing amount of energy.
3- Blue tastes like chocolate milk. Drink it and you'll become a child.
4- Red tastes sort of malty, and will make the drinker feel suddenly veeerrry sleepy. They'll be able to explore the dreams of those around them.
5- Purple tastes of orange juice, and will switch your sex.
6- Green just basically makes you want to have sex.
7- Yellow gives you the urge to fight anyone you see and tastes like a big dollop of Vegemite dropped in a glass of water.
8- Brown is Felix Felicis. It tastes like root beer, but makes everything come up Milhouse.
2 - Tag another character with a color of your choosing or generate one with RNG.
3 - Make a mess.
1- Pink is alcoholic, best described as freeze-dried whiskey.
2- Orange tastes like blackcurrant juice. It also gives you an amazing amount of energy.
3- Blue tastes like chocolate milk. Drink it and you'll become a child.
4- Red tastes sort of malty, and will make the drinker feel suddenly veeerrry sleepy. They'll be able to explore the dreams of those around them.
5- Purple tastes of orange juice, and will switch your sex.
6- Green just basically makes you want to have sex.
7- Yellow gives you the urge to fight anyone you see and tastes like a big dollop of Vegemite dropped in a glass of water.
8- Brown is Felix Felicis. It tastes like root beer, but makes everything come up Milhouse.
no subject
[Mari wriggles the match between her teeth. With no way of understanding the system that apparently pumped air through the ship and kept the recycled air of twenty or so bodies fresh as a daisy, she's refraining from smoking. So far it's been a week. All of her fingernails are bitten down to their limit and she's caught herself on more than one occasion worrying the skin at the edge of her fingers with her teeth. Anything the approximate size and/or shape of a cigarette has ended up in her mouth at some point. Yesterday she bit a pen open and spat blue ink all over the place and her nerves feel like someone is doing a tap dance over them.
It doesn't help that her brother is being like this. Even as he leans back, she leans forward in her chair, her elbows on her knees. American bastard, English specialist, what does it matter? She's beginning to doubt even the things she was sure she lived through, if he doesn't believe them. Nobody else is here to corroborate, after all. Perhaps this is true madness. Or perhaps he's the mad one. Or maybe it's something else entirely. They're on some kind of vessel in the middle of space. What do sanity and madness matter, in that context?]
You got it, Don Draper. Put in a call to Joan and get that sorted. [There's a cider on the floor beside her. She mostly picked it because it had what looked like a dragon on it.] ...What kind of specialist?
no subject
[He's been sick over her accident and subsequent hospitalization for months. They aren't nearly as close as they were as children, but... it physically hurts to think that he might have picked the wrong doctor, that all this madness might be his fault.]
You'll see a neurologist. CAT scans, MRIs, all of it. Your brain will be so well documented I could knit a copy of it if I cared to. [Owen holds out his empty glass.] Pour another. Please.
no subject
Where is that power kept, anyway? Maybe it's something in her brain. Maybe a doctor'll spot it. But magic never was very good at showing up in scientific scans. She lifts her glass and leans back and looks at her brother - or this version of him, anyway. And she thinks that, even if he does seem to think she's mad, it's been a long time since someone tried to take care of her. Maybe she will play along. For a little while, at least.] They have to find my brain before you can knit it.
no subject
I suppose it's lucky for me that I have a limited supply of yarn. [With a rumpling of his brow, he glances over at Mari.] You never explained exactly what happened. [he taps his ear.] Here.
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A werewolf hit me in the head and it cracked something I guess. [She rests her elbow on her thigh, rests her chin in her hand and stares at him. What are you going to do, Owain, what will you say? This asshole smiles her assholiest smile.] Before I could heal, I mean. So it's permanent.
no subject
It's hardly permanent. You have heard of hearing aids. Or- [he raises his voice and copies her asshole smile.] You have heard of hearing aids!
no subject
Ah, the old eye roll. [she does the same, and laughs without humour.] You don't believe me.
I could make you believe.
[She flinches at the joke - but only slightly - and touches her ear.] I gave up. [she starts to add 'when I couldn't heal it magically' but then she just...well. Gives up. And shrugs, and looks into her glass.]
no subject
[With the same arrogance she employs at every turn, he shrugs his shoulders.]
Show me your magical powers and how a werewolf made you deaf in one ear. I'm dying to know how that works.
no subject
Ugh, okay. [The ugh is only half because he doesn't believe her. She stands up and picks up a discarded bottle. How many of these did she drink? Not too many? Hopefully.
This bottle she smashes against the wall of the ship, so the part of it that holds liquid showers in a rain of glass, leaving only the jagged stem.]
Okay? [She comes over to him, crouches in front of him and presses the jagged glass into the palm of her free hand, created a long, deep cut.] Okay?
[She holds up her sliced palm and knows it's healing, even without looking. When she wipes away the blood, her hand is whole.] Okay! Magic powers!
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It isn't funny! [He tentatively turns to face her.] You might've hurt yourself!
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Um, yeah! I did hurt myself. [She pointed to the blood still dried on her palm.] That was the point of this exercise. Hurty-healy. It's what I do. [She waggles her fingers.] I can heal all wounds. But, sometimes it's weird, like.
[She wipes her hand on her trousers, and when it becomes clear that not all of the blood is coming off, she pours a little of the pink liquid on it, wipes again. She holds up both hands] Look, see, my left one doesn't have any marks on it, no lines, no fingerprints. If there are any scars of marks on a piece of my body that gets taken off, what grows back is, well, like. Like this. [She points now at the blank canvas of her left palm, the fingers on her left hand.
A pause while she considers.] Oh right. The werewolf ripped this arm off and it grew back. Um, basically he tried to eat me this one time and I got him in the face with wolfsbane and then he got offended and started stalking me, and then he hit me in the head and my head cracked and that's how I went deaf. I didn't heal til after that so I couldn't heal my ear and hearing aids didn't exist then.
[That's a lot to say in one go. Her face going as weird and blank as one of her fingers, she sits slowly down on the ground next to her brother's chair.] There's more, but...I don't feel like telling it.
no subject
[Owain knocks his hand on the table. Frankly, he'd like to slam it down, but that is not constructive.]
To not, frankly, freak out! And after all that, there's more?
[Incredulously, he shakes his head and gives an audible gulp.]
I won't lecture you. [he says, mostly to himself.] I won't.
no subject