fridgetothefire: (honed attention)
Self-indulgent Introspection )


[Private to Dean, backdated to right after Chris's post]

I really need to hit someone who's going to hit me back right now.

You, me, the enclosure, ten minutes. Yay or nay?


[Open Enclosure Spam]

[The day after 'sparring' with Dean, Anya is in the Enclosure again. She has a shepherd's sling, tough old cord and worn leather cradle for whatever stones she finds. She hunts birds, strikes them in flight. It's the concentration she needs.]


[6th Floor Spam]

[When she does maintenance tasks, she's got the mask mostly on, moves smoothly, face professionally rather than disconcertingly blank. She works on T'Pol's door, reinforces the frame, adds a biometric lock she can program when she wakes up. She's got half a dozen manuals out on the floor, working through the particulars of Federation - no, Imperial - technology. She gets her meals quickly and eats them off a crate while browsing over the project.]


[Private separately to Zane, Riddick, and Cass]

I'm not good company right now. But if you don't want to be angry alone, you can come hold me.


[Thoughtcall to Jean]

What do you do when you're this mad?

[A flicker of a projection, because she doesn't have words. Like it's eating her from the inside out, like it's eating everything else she tries. It's like being on fire again, the way it consumes her attention, the horror and the helplessness, and she can't even go hazy from smoke.]
fridgetothefire: (Default)
[Hallway spam]

[Ben appears first, in full black cape, domino mask, and bandito hat with silly ball fringe, carrying a billowing, humming fog machine. As the mist starts to fill the corridor, Anya, Cassel, and Cass sneak around the corner, similarly decked out. Anya and Cassel are clearly tipsy, in full dramatic pantomime, first holding their capes in front of them and then flaring them out dramatically, almost losing their balance and revealing large baskets of baked goods. Cass is actually sneaking, despite the glaringly obvious costume, and quite innocuous in contrast to the others. Between them, they are picking locks, nibbling cookies, drinking champange from the bottle, and humming their own theme songs.]


[Your room!]

[They are breaking into any room they can, including several doors previously secure against them, thanks to Cassel's new far-future electronic skeleton key. They have every intention of sneaking in, rearranging any ugly knickknacks you may possess, and hiding delicious cookies, brownies, and cupcakes in strange places. They may or may not contain weed, depending on how uptight the united Mystery Baking Companions think you are. If you're already in your room when they tumble into it, pastry-laden and giggling, they will probably toss their capes and pose heroically.]

Special delivery!!!

[If you catch them as they're 'sneaking' away, they will toss confetti in your face and attempt to make a daring escape.]



[OOC: if you would like to find your offerings later and make a silly stoned post, go for it!! They are very generous.]
fridgetothefire: (cast down your eyes)
[Private to Alex, Bruce, Ben, Cass, and Pietro.]

I'm going to be okay.

[Private to the above + Riddick, Felix, Cassel, Rhade, and Dean.]

Let me know if you made it. Please.


[Public, a day or two after.]

If anyone who got hurt is still laid up, in the infirmary or wherever else, and wants me to bring them some books from the library, I'd be happy to.

I can read to you too, if you want, although I can't make promises how long my voice will last.

[It's still a little bit hoarse from screaming, but Anya knows all about painful, boring recoveries. She imagines most people on the barge will have more company than she used to, but it can't hurt to offer.]


[Spam for Erik]

[After a night of deep, utterly dreamless post-adrenaline-crash sleep, Anya manages to drag herself into out of bed, because she can't stand the thought of more trail rations when she could get real breakfast. And there in the hall, just stepping out of his own room, is Erik. He's not her father, he never was and he never will be. But he's something like it, and he told her stories once, trying to protect her from the man who keeps haunting her all too literally. After a moment of staring, Anya flings herself at him and clings on tight.]

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fridgetothefire: (Default)
Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400

November 2015

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