Out of Time Roleplay Community

Characters: Martha Jones and Roy Miller
Rating: R for probable language and subject matter
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Martha's past. Language
Location: Woods
Day and Time: July 8th, morning
Status: Closed

Martha woke up curled against Phanan. In her bed. Which meant she was probably the one with the nightmares last night. Fabulous. She woke him just to the edge where she could let him know she was leaving for the day and to let himself out when he wanted.

She grabbed something light from the fridge and went out for a walk to clear her head. Martha had enjoyed the woods when she was out with Miller two days ago. Enough that yesterday she had gone for a walk. Today would be no different. But the nightmare still burned in the back of her brain.

Martha walked until she found a small clearing. There she took some time to collect her thoughts and began to move through the stances he had taught her not two days before. Perhaps it was the nightmare that made her want to work harder. After a moment or two, she unzipped her jacket and put it to the side. There was no one around, and Miller had been right. It was much easier to move without the jacket.

Characters: Roy Miller, Martha Jones
Rating: PG-13 - non gory combat training
Trigger Warnings: very mild consensual violence
Location: Hospital, then by the lake
Day and Time: July 6th, 6am
Status: Closed to Martha Jones

He'd had a rough late night. He'd gotten in the middle of a scuffle between 2 maniacs who wanted a little venting violence. And he'd torn the just barely healed wound on his shoulder for his trouble. He'd gone back to his apartment and patched himself up, applied new gauze, some scar and infection preventing lotion, and a new shirt.

Then he'd tucked in for a brief rest, to get over the adrenaline of combat. An altercation where both parties had immediately pushed him out and then summarily ignored him. Fine, they wanted him out, he left. No problem. From his window, he could see a lake, with a large patch of empty grass, far enough away from everything that Martha and him could have some privacy.

By 5, he was up, stuffing a towel and some swimming trunks into a duffel and heading out to the hospital by 5:30, after a very small breakfast. Toast, coffee, and that was pretty much it. Almost exactly at 6am, he was at the hospital, knocking on the door for her. Punctual, to a fault.

Characters: Jack Harkness, Mal Reynolds, Roy Miller, Bridget Frostheart
Rating: R for language and violence
Trigger Warnings: None anticipated
Location: Back streets of the town
Day and Time: Night of Monday 4/Tuesday 5 July, straight after Jack's fight with Ianto.
Status: Open to any who are okay with having their heads bitten off by a frustrated Jack. Alternatively, I'm quite happy to leave it as a solo thread. :-) Closed now they're in Mal's apartment


After having stormed out of his house, Jack was faced with the decision of where to go. Until the day before, the decision would have been easy: John. John would not only have let him work off his frustration (in very wonderful ways), but he would have understood. But John was gone. So was Isaack, who wouldn’t have understood so much but still would have been very happy to help him let off steam. That left Eric, but Jack didn’t quite feel he could face Eric’s cocky derision just yet.

Maybe later.

He couldn’t think of anyone else who might understand, and frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted company yet anyway. He was too angry, hurt and confusion swirling round in his head. How the hell had that happened? He and Ianto had always had that unspoken agreement not to talk about things and until recently it had usually worked!

Furious, Jack set off into the trees, heading away from the village. Far less likely to bump into someone there, and he could work off some of his aggression that way too.

There was only so far one could go, though, before the mountains got too steep, and eventually he had to curve back towards the town. He didn't like the sounds of what he was sure were wolves either. Tempting as it was to punish Ianto by letting him come across Jack's dead body ravaged by wolves, Jack didn't really feel like dying tonight. So he angled his path back towards the town, and decided that since he had all this nervous energy jangling around his body, he might as well put it to use. He was going to need somewhere to sleep tonight, after all, and his 'den' had a bedframe but nothing comfortable to actually sleep on as yet.

Thus it was that anyone out in the small hours of that night might come across Jack Harkness manhandling a kingsize mattress across the town, balanced precariously on two shopping trolleys. It kept overbalancing and there was a lot of swearing going on.

Characters: Roy Miller, Martha Jones
Rating: PG-13
Trigger Warnings: None yet, maybe medically things
Location:  Hospital
Day and Time: July 4th, late morning after this call
Status: PM to Join

He had his breakfast, just toast and coffee, changed into clean clothes and headed across town to the hospital where he'd first woken up. He gets a better look around, catching sight of the Neon Sign that read Fangtastic, placing that landmark in his mind. He coudln't believe he'd missed it, it looked like a redneck bar with a cheesy neon sign over the door and everything. He had to grin, Harmony was right. But why would a vampire run a place that low-brow? Not that he knew the first thing about vampires.

He hopped up the steps, light on his feet as he pushed open the door to the hospital and stepped inside. "Doctor Jones, I'm here for my check up!" he called out loud, pushing his hand into his pocket while he idled inside, waiting for her to appear.

Characters: Everyone
Rating: R for possible language
Trigger Warnings: None at the moment
Location: Town Square
Day and Time: July 1st, beginning fifteen minutes before actual sunset. Lasting until 8 PM (Thinking sunset is at 6 PM)
Status: Open to everyone

Anyone looking at the square would not suspect anything close to a meeting happening. All day the square remained empty. No chairs. No tables. Nothing to look like a meeting. And then, 15 minutes before sunset, there were suddenly rows of chairs and a small stage with a table set up. At the table sat Ike and Chuck. Ike looked quite imposing looking out over the the empty set up, gavel in front of him. Chuck on the other hand had a mess of papers that he kept dropping and having to pick up.

Neither man seemed willing to talk or respond to anyone wishing to talk to them at the moment.

[OOC Introductions will go up first. We'll get topic number 1 going tonight when I get home from work at 6 PM CST]

Characters: Harmony Kendall and Roy Miller
Rating: PG for now
Trigger Warnings: Possible vampire stuff
Location: The apartment building's basement laundromat
Day and Time: Saturday 25 June, afternoon
Status: PM to join Completed

Harmony was doing her laundry. Only a small proportion of the wardrobe of clothes she'd built up at the castle had come through with her to her new apartment, which was a nightmare, because the only clothes store in town was the supermarket and that only had a couple of rows of clothes that Harmony wouldn't be seen dead in. Or undead. Whatever. Anyway, she'd run out of smalls and decided that if she was going to have to spend time in that disgusting laundry room in the basement, she might as well wash everything. Well, everything she could. What she was going to do with the things that needed dry-cleaning, she had no idea!

She'd spent the duration of the washing cycle hanging around in the laundromat, because those were pretty much her only clothes and she'd have to go naked if someone stole them, and, since she had to be there anyway, she'd had a half-hearted go at clearing up some of the rubbish cluttering up the room, mainly because sitting there staring at it had been even more depressing than trying to do something about it. By the time the machine pinged its completion, all the rubbish was at least in a pile in the darkest corner of the room. Humming with satisfaction, Harmony unloaded her laundry and bunged most of it into one of the driers, then began to peg up her lacey underwear (too delicate for a great galumphing drier like that!) on the line she'd carefully cleaned and then hooked back up again across the end of the room.

Characters: Roy Miller
Rating: PG
Trigger Warnings: N/A
Location: Awenasa Apartment Complex
Day and time: June 24th, Friday, Afternoon
Status: Finished

There was something about sunglasses. They offered you protection. From light, from recognition, from bullet fragments. All around, just excellent products. They tinted the world, making it easier to look at.

Roy had found his room, alright. He had been able to go in alone, and search through the entire apartment. It wasn't very big, not like any hotel he was used to, but it was fine. He didn't plan to be here long. First order of business, communication out of his place. His phone was jailbroken, someone had reprogrammed it and he needed a computer to fix it. And a paperclip. Maybe a screw driver... who knew how many bugs where in this thing.

He found his clothes, at least. Not that that mattered much, Roy would wear anything. But he looked through all the pockets, including the suit he had been wearing that night is Salzburg when he'd been shot. No sign of the Zephyr. That was... not good. Worse than bad. It was a nightmare. He had no computer, no tools, nothing he could use to investigate his phone, aside from throwing it hard enough into the ground so that it would break. But this model, it wasn't that easy to break.

He took off the doctor's robe, and the hospital gown. That was first. He managed to get into a tank top, and a pair of khakis, then he stared at his closet and wondered what to do. It took a little effort, he wasn't afraid of pain, but he also didn't exactly welcome it. He managed to slip his arm into a dark denim shirt, doing the buttons up very slowly, before re-slinging his arm.

Stepping into some moccasins, which struck him as funny considering who Ike was (or what Ike was), he grabbed his phone, pushing it into his pants pocket, and headed out of his door. His wallet he'd found in his jacket, and he placed the credit card and his keys into it before pocketing that was well. Popping a pain reliever into his mouth he headed down the hallway, for the elevator, to do a little investigating now that he was properly dressed and had a better handle on the situation.

Characters: Sagat, Open
Rating: G
Trigger Warnings: None
Location: The Well in the Village Square
Day and Time: June 24th, 8am.
Status: Open

There he was, just standing in front of the pump well, a veritable giant of a man. Just shy of seven and a half feet tall, the burly Thai stood out in a place like this just as badly as he did any other place. Sagat was a stern looking man with a bald, bullet-like head and a craggy face worn with scars and time and long healed injuries. Over three hundred pounds of corded muscle and long imposing limbs, the foreigner stood there with his bare arms folded in front of him, fingers tugging at the tight wraps around his forearms and hands. Fighter's wraps. He wore no shirt, but rather only a pair of Muay Thai boxing trunks, a glossy dark blue with a yellow stripe up the side, TIGER emblazoned in yellow on the waist band. Sagat's shirtlessness left the massive scar that cut a diagonal swatch across his torso, right shoulder to left hip, on display. It was a brutal furrow that cut like a trench into his otherwise impressive upper body.

The man stared at the pump well with his one good, white eye, as if somehow it were the pivotal apex of his entire conundrum. Sagat gazed down upon that handle and spout with the full stern severity of a battle-hardened Muay Thai kickboxer. A man who had taken lives and suffered broken bones and battered flesh. There was no fear visible in him. Just a derisive sneer that bespoke of acute displeasure.

Things where not as they should be. What was this place? Was he alone here? Or had others too awoken in a bed they barely fit in a cabin in a strange if tranquil valley far away from mother Thailand and their training dojo?

He stared at the well as if he could demand from it answers, senses open, spirit questioning.

Characters:  Roy Miller, Martha Jones
Rating: PG-13 for hospital stuff
Trigger Warnings: Medical gore, possibly?
Location: Hospital
Day and Time: Wednesday, June 22nd, evening
Status:  Complete

The hospital floor was quiet. It had only been a day since it existed, or since the people who had come here knew it existed. The hospital beds had been empty, the ward as still as the grave. And then, one moment later, one of the beds had a person in it. The light on the nightstand turned on, to cast an eerie glow over his handsome face. He seemed quiet, calm, asleep maybe? He was in a hospital gown, with the sheets up over his chest, his body relaxed. He had several machines attached to him, an IV drip stand, the machine that goes ping. The most expensive machine in the hospital wasn't there, but the machine that records his pulse and heart rate and vitals came to life, emitting soft flips and dings as it ran the length of his heartbeat.

He was fine. But then he wasn't, because the machine started to go haywire, emitting an alarm when his pulse lowered, and the man let out a groan of pain, his body contorting on the sheets in perfect counterpoint for the calm he had been in moments before. A blotch of red started to grow out of his shoulder, through the hospital gown. Blood.