February 10, 2014

[take whatever time you need! I hope things are okay!]

((Thank youuu <33 They are, I just have a LOT to fix and clean and catch up on now that weather’s sort of permitting, and some mental health recovery after all that fiasco.))

February 10, 2014

((Okidoki guys I’m super sorry about the lack of communication but here’s what happened:

Shortly after my birthday we got snowed in. I live in the country so snowed in means focused on keeping stuff watered, warm and not emergency things happening…

And then we lost power for two whole days.

And during that we had a family emergency.

So I’m afraid I’m gonna have to go on a mini hiatus for some self recovery, it won’t be too long.

TL;DR Version:

DJ Siren’s on mini hiatus for self-recovery. Apologies. Won’t be very long.)) 

January 26, 2014

itfeltlikeflynn:

honey-sugar-baby:

itfeltlikeflynn:

honey-sugar-baby started following you

image

I keep getting this feeling like someone’s following me…
"Oh…hello there. Do you need something?"

The Siren inclined her head ever so slightly in response, an amused smile flickering across her lips. When she replied in words, she spoke softly. The tiniest lilt of perhaps.. amusement? Could be heard arching over and through her speech pattern.

"Greetings. As far as I am knowledgeable about, I do not need anything. I was merely, perhaps curious."

Of you, Were words she did not speak, though when she lifted her gaze to look at him once more, the meaning was conveyed effortlessly.

"Oh?" Flynn raised his eyebrows slightly, warily. He had to admit, he was intrigued by the program, himself. His smile was slow and guarded, but his tone of voice held a hint of teasing as he remarked, "I don’t suppose you see too many old men walking around the Grid." 

"As a matter of fact I do not. It is quite a rarity indeed. What brings you here?"
Something else was left off from her words this time, a little less noticeable than the first and she gave no conveyance of it.  User or Program, the theory was creeping in that this was User.

January 26, 2014

((and sorry ‘bout the wait my birthday is on the 31st I’ve been trying to get things at the house/responsibilities done and out of the way before that happens.))

January 26, 2014

profoundly-naive:

honey-sugar-baby:

profoundly-naive:

“I was thinking of asking you the same thing,” Quorra mused, swaying a little with her grip on the lamppost. She looked up at it; at the droplets illuminated in its glow. “Deep down, there’s something disturbing all of us, isn’t there?” Even the Grid itself. These were not times she would remember fondly. If she would run long enough to remember it. One could never know when CLU would make his next move, when another “accident” would happen, and whether or not she would be caught in it. Her focus returned to the Siren as a thin smile crossed her lips. It was funny to her, how much white light Gem emitted, and standing right across from her now, adorned in black. Though of the same Grid they really were of different worlds.

She cleared her throat, letting go of the lamppost to stand straight. The distant rumble of a Recognizer was registered in her system. Wouldn’t be long now before the patrols were out. “Do you need a ride somewhere? It’s nearly curfew. The patrols will be on these streets soon.” Her voice lacked concern, as the patrols were more tedious than an actual threat to her. But it was the least she could do, to offer to the Siren.

An instinctual response to the ISO’s new stance had Gem standing up straighter also, the fingers on her free hand curled ever so slightly by her side. Real concerns mingled with an almost playful, ‘datelike’ quality, especially at the offer to drive her ‘home’, as it were. Some knowledge of these things had long rested firmly in Gem’s secured information, rather useful for the secondary Hostess function. This sneaking, lighthearted comparison gave a bit of honest sparkle to her already softly smiling expression. 

"I wander occasionally. Often if I can afford the chance. It was wandering that brought me here. Perhaps also some archiving of my thoughts."

Moving by emotional instincts a bit more than any clear cut processes, the Siren’s voice had by now lost the hard edge of near autotune; a thin veil of it remained like the most discreet of accents.  

Her smile thinned out briefly as the consideration of Quorra’s succinctly shared grief and admittance came fully to the forefront of her thoughts. However nonchalant it had been said, the words were regardless true. Though something like it had been expected, almost weary dissatisfaction overtook her briefly at the concept that had been expressed.  

Yes, it was true. Very true. However, keeping perfect poise, her smile returned. Grateful to the admittance, rather more silently grateful to what it meant to have been said at all, it was best to simply move on for now. 

The timely approach of the Recognizer had also left her with a warning, one that was summarily rather ignored. Noticed, but shrugged away to focus on the words about it instead.

"I would appreciate a ride. Where would you like to take me?"

Playfulness had electrically coursed into her words; and when she lifted her gaze fully to meet Quorra’s once more, it was evident in her entire expression. She would play the role this scenario required, to a point. The entirely different quality of it both amused and excited her in what was for once, a relatively non-dangerous setting.

The attribution of Quorra’s role in the request was unexpected. “Oh-h! Well, uh…” She giggled and immediately averted her eyes to the Siren’s playfulness, though it was to expected of one with such programming. Instead she turned where she stood, directing her focus to the empty streets, the mixture of dark and glowing windows split by neon bars lining crests of rooftops and edges of street signs. The sleek whites and blues amidst the black that were so striking to Tron City, interrupted by the soft aqua of construction sites.

She turned back to Gem brightly. “Wherever you need to go! I’m in no rush!” she shrugged comically, hands in her pockets, as another rumble, louder this time, echoed down the street. “You got a place to stay? An apartment around here? Or… if you wanted to, I bet there’s an Energy spot still open.” She cast her a playful grin, eyes sparkling with mischief, lit by the rain. “It’s not curfew yet, after all.”

The night life and all its glory almost filled Gem with physical energy in a way. She was symbiotic to it, relished it. In turn, she added to the shimmering electric luminescence. Slowly, complacently, she took the opportunity to somewhat bask in it, eyes half closed. It was with a renewed sense of adventure that she responded.

"It seems like a shame to go home. Why Miss Quorra, I do believe I’ll take you up on that. I rather think I’d like to visit this spot."

Much resisting the urge to put her hands behind her back and sway forward, for that would not do, she restrained herself from any new motion, as hard as that was with the new electric pulsing of curiosity surging in.

January 26, 2014

firstclu:

"Whoah!"

Something lunged toward the front of the car, just a black and white blur in the screechy flopping wet mess of wiper blades and raindrops and traffic. Clark slammed on the brakes, the tires that had taken months to save up for serving him well. They stopped quickly on the slick pavement. He cranked down the window and braved getting soaked himself to stick his head out. Yep, it was, in fact, someone trying to hail a cab, not someone tripping over the curb.

Good. He hadn’t hit her. He pulled back in, out of traffic.

"Hey, I’m available!" he waved out the window. Huh. Rainwater and dried ketchup kinda looked like blood when they mixed on the dashboard like that. Might want to wipe that up. He rummaged around for a paper napkin while he waited for the passenger.

Blissfully unaware of how she’d almost been hit, the woman skittered to the side of the car and, after a few false attempts to open the door, collapsed in the back seat.

Heart beating like a rabbit’s, she looked almost as prone to run away as the proverbial animal. Glancing up at the front, her silver-grey eyes were wide and entire demeanor resembled a fight or flight reaction that had been paused just in time. 

"Groovy." She responded in the face of all that her body language was conveying, as well as rather late, to nothing in particular, and breathlessly.

Without turning away, her hands began working independently without her supervision, untangling her wrist from the bag with some rain soaked difficulties. 

"I have to go somewhere." She lilted tremulously. 

"Great," Clark tried to smile brightly back at her into the rearview mirror, but his hair dripped rainwater into his eyes from his brief peek into the outside world. He tried to crank the window back up and wipe off the dashboard at the same time while talking, giving her a moment to collect herself. The result was a squeaky harmonic accompaniment to his words, "because it is my job to drive people places."

He finished all three tasks with varying degrees of success and turned around to slowly face the woman in the backseat, curiosity creasing the edges of his eyes.

"So, where is this ‘somewhere’ that you have to go?" He paused, pushing wet curls back out of his face with a grin, "Don’t worry about what happened back there, I’m a good driver. Really boring driving record."

Somewhat predictably, her gaze wandered to the dishevelment of the car. An involuntary little jump at the squeaks, it didn’t look like she would remain very calm for a while. 

"What.. what happened back there?" She asked slowly, as though she hadn’t herself been the very cause of ‘what’ had happened. Locked in staring at his shoulder, she bit her lip lightly while thinking. This only lasted a very brief moment however, cheering up considerably with her reply, even straightening a little.

"I have to go home. That’s the place I have to be at."

January 26, 2014

((Wow I really hate it when tumblr logs me out I can never seem to remember this blog’s pw))

January 10, 2014

lionheart-braeden:

you are okay with Roleplaying with male muns

  • no matter their sexuality 
  • no matter the gender of their muse
  • no matter what as long as they are nice like everyone else should be.

(via designation-eckert)

January 9, 2014

eaion:

OH, MY GOD! &lt;333 VOX, IT’S BREATHTAKINGLY GORGEOUS! *__*

eaion:

OH, MY GOD! <333 VOX, IT’S BREATHTAKINGLY GORGEOUS! *__*

(Source: boxofvoxels, via vintonareco)

January 9, 2014

firstclu:

honey-sugar-baby:

firstclu:

It was the same taxi cab, the same slightly drizzly rain, the same swish-swish of the wiper blades. The traffic was packed together in the same places, and the lights from the GPS unit illuminated the same greasy stains on the seats. The radio played the same static-filled classic rock station at the same barely-audible volume.

But despite all of that same-ness, today was going to be different. Clark could tell. Or maybe he just wanted it to be different so badly, that it felt as though it would be so.

"Turn LEFT at the light." the GPS said in its mechanical voice.

"Thank you, FLYNN." Clark replied dryly. He had tried to turn off the voice, so many times. Eventually, it had just become a traveling companion, like the geometric foam ornament hanging from his rearview mirror. He couldn’t afford a new GPS, and Encom’s tech support had been less than helpful.

But this one got him where he needed to go. Usually, he could find his way around quite well, but it certainly helped to have an interactive map. Particularly while trying to pick up call-in fares.

He pulled up to a stop outside of the building and parked the car. As the minutes ticked by, it became clear that he’d been stood up. Ah well, back to the route. He signaled and started to pull back into traffic.

The day had most definitely not been the same for the woman who had called in the cab. Her usual routine began with Stay at Home, Stay at Home, possibly bother the housemate she had developed a fondness for, and either create something crafty, or dig up an old movie.

That would have been preferable to what had actually happened. A whirlwind of motion and gray dreariness had lent itself towards completely expelling any linear concept of how the series of today’s events had landed her here- and long ago having easily forgotten how to go back home, the bus routes had been her first option. 

However, they ran on hours, and she… she ran on ideas. 
A few minutes ago had left her clutching the handles of a rather normal looking bag out of an anxiety habit while performing her first cab call ever. 

It wasn’t exactly that she minded the rain. In fact, having both forgotten what was in the bag she’d come to purchase, and with a complete loss of interest in it, the rather frail woman was entranced by her view of the raindrops falling atop the glass ceiling. 

So entranced that she completely failed to notice her savior’s arrival until the changing signal lights drew her attention towards his vehicle.

Abruptly, without any further thought, she flung herself out into the rain, a mess of pale white and classic black. Seemingly at a loss of what to do, she ran toward the front side of his car, jerkily, haltingly.

Waving frantically with her free hand, her only hope lay in how much she really did seem to stand out in a proverbial crowd. 
Lingering just out of the path of oncoming traffic, yet too close to the lanes for any safety from slippage accidents, she was completely lost and piteous. 

"Whoah!"

Something lunged toward the front of the car, just a black and white blur in the screechy flopping wet mess of wiper blades and raindrops and traffic. Clark slammed on the brakes, the tires that had taken months to save up for serving him well. They stopped quickly on the slick pavement. He cranked down the window and braved getting soaked himself to stick his head out. Yep, it was, in fact, someone trying to hail a cab, not someone tripping over the curb.

Good. He hadn’t hit her. He pulled back in, out of traffic.

"Hey, I’m available!" he waved out the window. Huh. Rainwater and dried ketchup kinda looked like blood when they mixed on the dashboard like that. Might want to wipe that up. He rummaged around for a paper napkin while he waited for the passenger.

Blissfully unaware of how she’d almost been hit, the woman skittered to the side of the car and, after a few false attempts to open the door, collapsed in the back seat.

Heart beating like a rabbit’s, she looked almost as prone to run away as the proverbial animal. Glancing up at the front, her silver-grey eyes were wide and entire demeanor resembled a fight or flight reaction that had been paused just in time. 

"Groovy." She responded in the face of all that her body language was conveying, as well as rather late, to nothing in particular, and breathlessly.

Without turning away, her hands began working independently without her supervision, untangling her wrist from the bag with some rain soaked difficulties. 

"I have to go somewhere." She lilted tremulously.