Dave Strider [au2] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
turntechtrainer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-02-02 11:09 pm
turntechtrainer) wrote in towerofanimus2013-02-02 11:09 pm
Entry tags:
Snoop, we're not in Pokeland, anymore.
Characters: Dave Strider of the game transplant type and YOU
Setting: Outside room 3-04, and the cafeteria
Format: Action but if you want prose, bring it and I'll match you.
Summary: So you heard about those two pokemon trainers? Well there is a third...
Warnings: Language, probably. Will update as needed.
Room 3-04
[Going to bed and waking up somewhere new had only happened twice in Dave's life. He wasn't a fan of before and now is no different. Some part of him expected it. Like how his dreams are full of mazes, the screeching of crows, and death painted in so many colorful ways. Once the waking hour happens, he tends to push it out of his head.
Not thinking about it has been his best friend. Unfortunately, now he has to consider it because of a letter. Then again, if it had been old gold tooth who brought him here, he'd expect to be space dust.
He stands in the hallway just outside room 3-04 and frowns down at his pokegear. The piece of shit just isn't connecting which is stupid. It has perfect signal, usually. Dave is different from the one any tower resident would be familiar with. He's clearly older, fairly tall, and starting to fill out and take on more of a resemblance to his parents.
He stuffs the gear into the pocket of his dark coat and looks to the flame maned unicorn to his left.] Don't look at me, man. I got nothing to even say about this. If you're along for the ride that means either I'm asleep, so, stand by for murder by the ticking clock, or, who even knows.
[He reaches out to pat her nose, giving it a reassuring rub with a sigh.] If it's Team Rocket don't settle for hot foot. Roast their shorts.
Cafeteria
[By this point, he's gotten hungry. Anyone treading into the cafeteria will find one blond haired shade wearing douche of a guy in a dark coat sitting between two large dragons. None of them look all that pleased with the food but they're eating the stupid oatmeal anyway. Dave wasn't the only one that got so hopelessly spoiled on Jane's cooking.
Sitting wrapped up in a knitted scarf (red, green, purple, and blue), is a large egg. Dave keeps checking on it, sometimes shifting so he can keep an eye on his scaled bros and the egg at the same time. After a while he just transfers it to his lap where he knows it will be safe.]
Setting: Outside room 3-04, and the cafeteria
Format: Action but if you want prose, bring it and I'll match you.
Summary: So you heard about those two pokemon trainers? Well there is a third...
Warnings: Language, probably. Will update as needed.
Room 3-04
[Going to bed and waking up somewhere new had only happened twice in Dave's life. He wasn't a fan of before and now is no different. Some part of him expected it. Like how his dreams are full of mazes, the screeching of crows, and death painted in so many colorful ways. Once the waking hour happens, he tends to push it out of his head.
Not thinking about it has been his best friend. Unfortunately, now he has to consider it because of a letter. Then again, if it had been old gold tooth who brought him here, he'd expect to be space dust.
He stands in the hallway just outside room 3-04 and frowns down at his pokegear. The piece of shit just isn't connecting which is stupid. It has perfect signal, usually. Dave is different from the one any tower resident would be familiar with. He's clearly older, fairly tall, and starting to fill out and take on more of a resemblance to his parents.
He stuffs the gear into the pocket of his dark coat and looks to the flame maned unicorn to his left.] Don't look at me, man. I got nothing to even say about this. If you're along for the ride that means either I'm asleep, so, stand by for murder by the ticking clock, or, who even knows.
[He reaches out to pat her nose, giving it a reassuring rub with a sigh.] If it's Team Rocket don't settle for hot foot. Roast their shorts.
Cafeteria
[By this point, he's gotten hungry. Anyone treading into the cafeteria will find one blond haired shade wearing douche of a guy in a dark coat sitting between two large dragons. None of them look all that pleased with the food but they're eating the stupid oatmeal anyway. Dave wasn't the only one that got so hopelessly spoiled on Jane's cooking.
Sitting wrapped up in a knitted scarf (red, green, purple, and blue), is a large egg. Dave keeps checking on it, sometimes shifting so he can keep an eye on his scaled bros and the egg at the same time. After a while he just transfers it to his lap where he knows it will be safe.]
no subject
Picking because who knows what kinds of candy might be lurking in there.]]
no subject
It's not that hard to make a good steaming bowl of this stuff. Maybe a little fruit on top and a bit of cinnamon...]
no subject
[[God she had wished so hard that they had something to dress that oatmeal up with when she first had to eat it. And then of course when she finally choked it down, it was nutritional bars that had nutritional bars to use as seasoning...]]
Come on now, you know my eating habits. Outside of take out pizza.
no subject
And you know mine, well okay maybe not as well now. Or maybe you do, because John is just as crazy in the kitchen. Why are Crockerberts wizzes of that land. Why.