InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "the youth of today..."

madeinwales (madeinwales) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-21 21:15:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 12, dean winchester, ellen ripley, glados, ianto jones, jenny schecter, location: in town, open, remy lebeau

Day 12, morning!
Who: Ianto Jones and OTA
What: Not so good discoveries
When: Day 12, morning (round 9 ish?)
Where: Town square, by the straw dummies
Rating: PG

Status: Active

Sleeping in the barn wasn't the most comfortable thing there was, but the scent of hay and the feel of Jack nearby helped sleep find him fairly easily. Unfortunately, it meant that he felt stiff as all get out (not the fun kind of stiff, either) and that he needed to actually move to get himself feeling rather like himself again.

Ianto murmured something to Jack with regards to what he was doing and where he was going and took himself back to town, stretching his legs in a walk. No jogging. He had promised. It'd jostle his arm too much for anyone's liking, including his own. And, frankly, Doctor House scared him. The man was the crankiest beast Ianto had ever met and he had spent some time with Owen, after all.

Things seemed like they had calmed down a good deal, though it was still very quiet in what was left of the town. Ianto would have given an awful lot to hear some bird song around as he walked. But in a moment, that wish was forgotten when he stumbled up the straw men. Like bonfire night, only with the people in town. There was a man dressed like Logan. There was the Doctor's suit. There .. was a dress? Oh good God. And there was Jack's coat. Well, he'd be damned in someone was going to burn Jack in effigy!

Ianto stalked over, missing the other things laying about, and proceeded to strip the Jack dummy, wrestling the coat off. He might go after the rest of the clothes, too, since burning anyone in effigy in this place was a horrible thing at best. He swore under his breath as he worked, wishing for two good hands. The wool coat was heavy as hell and looked to be fairly authentic.

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sarcasmquotes
2009-06-23 02:10 pm UTC (link)

The Red Eyed man had tried the old switcheroo. GLaDOS smiled. This subject was interesting. She'd have to keep him. Seriously. GLaDOS kept things and Red Eyes there would be part of her collection. Something to play with. The howling one between she and the object of her curiousity (and fixation) however, was actually sort of ignored.

She pressed closer; she might not be as tall as the men; but, she had some mighty long limbs. Coming in close to Dean she pressed against him, molding if you were. That jumpsuit didn't do anything to hide GLaDOS' feminity as Dean would soon realize.

However, it wasn't Dean she was after, it was her cake. Her arms came around him quickly and what did she do? She gripped the waist band of the mustant's pants and tugged him in. No, she wasn't letting go.

"Now loo' wha' you di'." She teased.

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ace_of_clubs
2009-06-23 02:21 pm UTC (link)

Gambit groaned when she got hold of the front of his pants and hauled him in closer against the back of Dean. That just wasn't going to be good for anyone! A nice set of firm, round buns was the same, whether you were a woman, or a demon-hating man. Don't wiggle around, Dean. Just.. don't. The cat-like Cajun was drawn to warm things, and Dean was nice and warm, so just.. don't ~~blink~~ move. Don't even ~~blink~~ move.

"Now loo' wha' I di'." He mimicked her teasing tone, that smile spreading out over his face as he rest his chin on Dean's shoulder, lifting his eyebrows. The smile stayed on his face, for the woman's benefit, but he was gritting out the next words to his captive. "Don' move uh mus'le." A simple warning, before he was shifting that cake and smoothing his hand under the box, then lifting it up and stretching it back, like a waiter balancing a tray through a large group of people. It hung precariously there on five fingers, but he knew he wouldn't drop it. He had amazing balance.

"I say I gon' gi' y' a piece, Chere. Bu' I know y' kin'. Y' wan' 'de whol' t'in' t' y'self. Ain' havin' 'dat." The Cajun warned her with an easy smile, shaking his head only a little. "Sli'e o' 'de ca'e, o' not'in'." This was simply too much fun for him. It should be illegal.

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ellen_ripley
2009-06-23 02:31 pm UTC (link)

The only reason Gambit and Glados' little game had got this far without Ripley intervening was sheer shock.

One, guy with red eyes. The hell? Two ... wierd woman who came up with an accent out of /nowhere/.

Three, that damn cake.

Her expression had gone from confounded and curious to ... grim and seriously pissed. Most of her color had washed out of her face, as well.

"Actually, you two ... " She said finally. She hadn't understood 99% of what they'd been saying, but the earliest claims of ownership of the cake had been clear enough. "I think that cake was meant for me. The Nostromo used to be the ship I was Warrant Officer of." She glared at the box. "You might want to be careful of what's in there. It might not actually be cake." Box was the right size to hide a facehugger. This place was seriously fucked up. Ripley would NOT put it past the powers that be to do something like that.

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hellsboy
2009-06-23 02:33 pm UTC (link)

The woman was right on top of Dean now and he had no way of disguising the fact that he very much realized she was a woman. What didn't help was the man behind him and the close proximity of that man's body. Because the front of him was happily situated against a rather firm female body and he wasn't even unhappy that it hadn't been his idea just then. Except the back of his body was right against... and well he knew that it didn't always have to be the prefered gender that aroused a dude if things were - oh fuck this.

"Lady, come on," he swallowed and choked slightly, jarring his compressed ribs. Did his voice just crack?? "Back up, man. I'm serious." He growled and held his breath as the confusion of senses forced a flush to his cheeks. What the fuck was this? He was like a pubescent geek or something now with every tiny movement causing his predicament to become worse. This was what cake fights reduced him to. The last thing he wanted to feel was the same thing on his ass that the woman was unfortunately getting treated to.

"Give her the fucking cake," he said between his teeth. "And get OFF me." If his hands and elbow weren't so fucked up he would have just reached around and grabbed the cake himself or hit it to the ground. That was a moot point now though. He was stuck. Do not want.

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	KICKING THIS THING LEFT <--- sarcasmquotes 2009-06-23 02:41 pm UTC (link)
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