InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "pretty fly for an orange guy"

At The Gates Moderators (gates_mods) wrote in atthegates_ooc,
@ 2012-01-30 00:39:00

Entry tags:

meme, mod-post

The Morning After Meme
So in celebration of the end of celebrations -- seriously, goodbye January and the fail of falling snow, bankruptcy post Christmas et-al -- I am reviving a meme we used to great success in Gate's first few months.

The morning after meme! This is that awful-terrible-no-good-wonderful set-up where no matter what your character was doing last night, they're waking up with someone else on the other side of the bed and facing that moment of 'who?' and all the delicious awkwardness that comes with tossing people together. Generally, this is of the wonderful-crack type meme but we have had lines play out from this affair before.

How it works: You comment with your character's journal, their name in the subject line. Other people then comment on that comment, with their character's name in the subject line -- and an opening to a ~morning after scene, a line of dialogue, anything. The way this really works is if everyone crawls over every post ridiculously and do not feel this is a moment for polished dialogue and witty words. This is nonsense, desirous of putting characters in hideously embarrassing situations for your own fun and ignoring their own sanity.

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	Sachiel hymnalize 2012-01-30 02:11 am UTC (link)
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Re: Sachiel

dreamsinday
2012-02-03 11:35 pm UTC (link)

It's bright-bright-white, all light smoothed out against the inside of her eyelids until the world is stained, is shot-through with red and pink and all she can see is the inside of her own head. Bright means not Circus, colours bleeding through canvas and silk until they sing about morning more sweetly than light-light-light. Joss uncurls, tattered hair and bare-dirty-feet cold-exposed beyond the blanket's reach. An arm stretched out, gathering in as much of it as possible, curling in upon herself like disturbed anemone and taking with it as much of the bed-stuff as possible.

"Do you know," the voice is conversational, is timid beneath the blanket. Joss is a bundle of quilts, of a pillow and an escaped curl. "That you snore?"

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	Yoshi yasaotoko 2012-01-30 02:11 am UTC (link)
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	Gryff immoveable 2012-01-30 02:24 am UTC (link)
	Ignore that he would never. (Reply to this)

	Dr. Jacques Nicolson friendsaredead 2012-01-30 04:25 am UTC (link)
	Cries when he climaxes. (Reply to this)

	Elder Young justbelieves 2012-01-30 04:26 am UTC (link)
	Is forbidden from being alone with the opposite sex or out of earshot of his mission companion. (Reply to this) (Thread)

Re: Elder Young

romeijn
2012-01-31 09:15 am UTC (link)

Dear god, sunshine, and right in his face.

Gabriel pulled up the sheet and rolled over and promptly into someone. He grunted and pulled down the sheet just enough to peer over it and found a bony foot in front of his face, the leg to which it was attached long and hairy. Not the best thing to find upon wakening, but certainly not the worst. He lifted his head and looked down the leg, which was attached to a young man with close-cropped dark hair. Not bad, really; he had a lovely arse.

On the other side of the young man who lay with his head at the foot of the bed was another, his back to Gabriel. Very nice back, broad and bare, and Gabriel saw a bite mark on the side of his neck. Vaguely, he remembered doing that.

Two then. Gabriel blinked, remembered starched white shirts and ugly ties and a dismaying amount of earnestness concerning the state of his soul. Possibly there had been a Bible or two. And later, quite a lot of noises he was certain had never before come from either. Virgins. They were so amusing.

Gabriel blinked into full wakefulness, and reached up to run his fingers over the amulet he wore about his neck, the bracelet he wore about his wrist, ran quick fingers over the ones slid beneath his skin. They all hummed into awareness and Gabriel felt the magic take hold, shiver over him, felt shields settle over his skin, work deep into him, down to the bones. Protection from all but higher levels of magic. One really couldn't be too careful.

Really, he should have tea. He contemplated kicking one of the two young men awake and demanding it.

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	Saul Cain byliner 2012-01-30 02:36 pm UTC (link)
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Re: Saul Cain

fetters
2012-02-03 11:55 pm UTC (link)

There were no bedsheets strewn around, nor much in the way of clothing either. Torn buttons and ripped hems, yes, but these things hung off his lean body like trophies, surprises that Berith examined with obsessive interest, his eyes bright, hungry, lively. For once not cagey as he turned, pulling the torn cuff of his shirt fastidiously straight about his neck. Tiny lines of blood soaked immediately through at the shoulders.

"Where were we?" he enunciated slowly through his teeth, the smirk of blinding delight.

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Re: Saul Cain

byliner
2012-02-04 12:42 am UTC (link)

Inching eyes open hurt. Not the furred-up internal-arteries-screaming pain that was particular and peculiar and almost pleasant now and part and parcel of a night of enjoyment had with a pair of twins, a fat wallet and a strip-joint named 'Bessie's' nor the thick and cloudy pain of drifting through the narcotic fog toward sobriety. This was pain like industrial needles, like the worst kind of root canal cutting through spinal cord, like a carving knife to the arm in a drug-fueled fit of 'what happens if'. Light bled through the cracks, made aches and groans into screams of pure-hot pain.

"What. The fuck." Saul was very clear on this.

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	Nic Santoro natoarrogante 2012-01-30 02:36 pm UTC (link)
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	Ophelia forserious 2012-01-30 04:59 pm UTC (link)
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	Nina forserious 2012-01-30 04:59 pm UTC (link)
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	Candy notsonegative 2012-01-30 05:03 pm UTC (link)
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Re: Candy

byliner
2012-02-03 11:22 pm UTC (link)

It's the cat-with-a-pigeon grin that does it. The Gem's well-used to the denizens passing through; sheets get changed, the curtains are closed, occasionally one manages to acquire an entire night rather than an hour's dalliance but not this man and not the Gem -- his luck, however, has to be in, because there's a breast not far from his face when Saul shakes off sleep like a filthy friend, like the arm of an old, now well-soused companion shrugged off like so much deadweight. There's a breast and -- his hand runs cautiously-exploratory along the length of the mattress -- a leg. Two legs.

One eye cracks open. A deep and abiding sigh of pleasure. Has he died? He's died? He doesn't care.

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	Jim Chatterjeee superdweeb 2012-01-30 05:04 pm UTC (link)
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	Armand York libraryghost 2012-01-30 05:06 pm UTC (link)
	As if he sleeps. (Reply to this)

	Tori. soup 2012-01-30 06:20 pm UTC (link)
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Re: Tori.

adepthands
2012-02-03 11:17 pm UTC (link)

There's a certain moment in mornings when the light is gentle still, when it does not force its way into the room and sharpen itself against the corners but is shadow-thief and quiet presence, strokes eyes and limbs and wakes those close enough to rousefulness that it is a soft and kind sort of thing rather than a lurch. This is early morning, for she does not sleep long after early mornings; dawn is instinctive, is small yawn and languid stretch.

She is dark hair tangled across a pillow tugged down and held firmly between hands and the rest of her curled around it. There are sheets twined round waist and legs and they smell faintly now of the crumbling-incense scent that clings to hair and skin and hands. She is asleep, in the darkly-deeply sense of the very still, the faint breath that is shallow and thin and peaceful. And she has taken the furthest corner, that place between edge of mattress and the wall that leaves a nomansland for him to occupy.

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	Gideon Foster ironcompass 2012-01-30 08:50 pm UTC (link)
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Re: Gideon Foster

immoveable
2012-02-03 11:29 pm UTC (link)

A very, very blank look. Fact checking.

He is awake. This is true.

It's a bed. It is not his own. This is also true.

There is someone in the bed. This is rare, but he can hear the shallow sound of breathing.

He moves, experimentally, lifts the quilt to slide out without a look back. There's movement, a compensation for his own -- and, oh dear Christ above, Gryff looks back.

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	Arazia Santoro intensifying 2012-01-30 08:53 pm UTC (link)
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	Re: Arazia Santoro induisant 2012-02-03 11:26 pm UTC (link)
	"Are you lost, kitten? Or just in need of an education? This is my bed." (Reply to this) (Parent)

	Owen Penn [ Penemue ] penemue 2012-01-31 12:56 am UTC (link)
	Uses the peen strictly for pee'n. (Reply to this)

	romeijn 2012-01-31 08:45 am UTC (link)
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	Julia borrowedthings 2012-02-04 12:08 am UTC (link)
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	John conjob 2012-02-04 12:14 am UTC (link)
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	Elizabeth outofboundaries 2012-02-04 12:18 am UTC (link)
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	Vaughn playingdoctor 2012-02-04 12:20 am UTC (link)
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	Liam richestorags 2012-02-04 12:21 am UTC (link)
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	Emily wordsaremusic 2012-02-04 12:23 am UTC (link)
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	Morden longevitas 2012-02-04 12:48 am UTC (link)
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