Amelia F. Jones || United States of America (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starspangledknockers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-08-21 03:48 pm
starspangledknockers) wrote in towerofanimus2012-08-21 03:48 pm
✪ declare this an emergency; ( 1 )
Characters: America (Amelia) and YOU! Errybody's invited.
Setting: Room 2-17/the 2nd floor of dormitories, either/or!
Format: Brackets but if ya prose at me I'll prose back!
Summary: +1 super strong and very confused nation. She does Not Like this situation at all.
Warnings: PG/PG-13 for possible language. Also this girl is kind of ridiculous.
[As soon as she wakes, America feels jolted from unconsciousness, and after a minor bout of what she feels is some after effect of whatever brought her here--be that being drugged or... or whatever--
God, she--
America practically flies out of her bunk and falls from it, tumbling to the floor. Without missing a beat she grasps at the letters, and once she's read them, kneeling beside the bunk, she hurls the papers away--they flutter down uselessly--and leaps to her feet, her hands clenched in anxious fists.]
Bullshit--! [--which is exclaimed loudly, and she kicks her heel against the floor. She's not much fond of the collar at her neck either, which she tries to remove, much to her frustration and confusion. Anxiety begins to set in, but she won't let that stop her! No, a heroine doesn't let the worst situations get to her--and she feels, at the moment, that she's seen worse.
The trunk at the foot of the bed catches her attention and immediately she advances toward it; although, opening it with caution seems the best thing to do. With cheeks puffed stubbornly, America quickly repacks the trunk's contents--save for an aluminum baseball bat and a bomber jacket. The bat, she thinks, will come in handy.
Just in case.
The jacket, well... it carries with it the worn smell of leather and familiarity, so she promptly dons it and with a nod decides it's time to explore and get some fucking explanations for this shit.]
It's time to do a little explorin'.
[And off she goes--to meet her roommates and wander the dormitories.]
HEY!
[^ that will be heard frequently on this floor.]
Setting: Room 2-17/the 2nd floor of dormitories, either/or!
Format: Brackets but if ya prose at me I'll prose back!
Summary: +1 super strong and very confused nation. She does Not Like this situation at all.
Warnings: PG/PG-13 for possible language. Also this girl is kind of ridiculous.
[As soon as she wakes, America feels jolted from unconsciousness, and after a minor bout of what she feels is some after effect of whatever brought her here--be that being drugged or... or whatever--
God, she--
America practically flies out of her bunk and falls from it, tumbling to the floor. Without missing a beat she grasps at the letters, and once she's read them, kneeling beside the bunk, she hurls the papers away--they flutter down uselessly--and leaps to her feet, her hands clenched in anxious fists.]
Bullshit--! [--which is exclaimed loudly, and she kicks her heel against the floor. She's not much fond of the collar at her neck either, which she tries to remove, much to her frustration and confusion. Anxiety begins to set in, but she won't let that stop her! No, a heroine doesn't let the worst situations get to her--and she feels, at the moment, that she's seen worse.
The trunk at the foot of the bed catches her attention and immediately she advances toward it; although, opening it with caution seems the best thing to do. With cheeks puffed stubbornly, America quickly repacks the trunk's contents--save for an aluminum baseball bat and a bomber jacket. The bat, she thinks, will come in handy.
Just in case.
The jacket, well... it carries with it the worn smell of leather and familiarity, so she promptly dons it and with a nod decides it's time to explore and get some fucking explanations for this shit.]
It's time to do a little explorin'.
[And off she goes--to meet her roommates and wander the dormitories.]
HEY!
[^ that will be heard frequently on this floor.]
no subject
[ There's a sigh as he hauls his lawnmower over his shoulder and offers her his arm. ]
I'm not saying it'll put any doubts to rest but that's something to ponder on, eh?
no subject
So can I see my place or not?
no subject
[ But he straightens up, grinning back at her. ]
Oh. Right. 'Scuse me. The name's Knox. Ronald Knox, if you please. And you would be...?