Had a horrific day and feel completely incompetent et cetera et cetera et cetera. Anyway, I’ll try to get back on later when not feeling as though I’m incapable of putting together a sentence- if anyone wants to RP, do send me a message and I’ll reply later on.
((I’m back from a very long flight and I’m jetlagged as hell so it might be a day or two before I’m actually coherent. Also, school starts on Thursday so I may be around a little less, but I’ll do my best.))
((Bored to death. Do I owe anyone a reply, or does someone want to start something?))
@imgonnashoottothrill
Thankful that she hadn’t caused any damage and on alert in case she still could, Etch took a deep sigh of relief and shifted in her seat. ‘Wish they could’ve met someday,’ she remarked, trying very hard to keep the wistful tone out of her voice.Dean’s eyes flicked up to make sure no one was paying too much attention before he focused on her as the episode started.
“How can I help you through this? If I can’t, talk to me, tell me more about Alex, what made him tick? What were his hobbies?” he asked softly, trying to get her through this. It looked incredibly painful.
Etch gripped the sides of her stool tightly, trying to force back down the memories.
“Don’t let me touch anyone; don’t want to knock ‘em out,” she managed, keeping her eyes tightly shut. “It’ll- it should go in a minute.” She let her eyes open for just a second when Dean mentioned Alex. “Physics. Reading. Anything he could. Smartest- fuck- smartest person I’ve ever known,” she said, breathing deeply and trying to make it stop any way she could.
As swiftly as it had started, she found the attack subsiding. With her breathing slowing, Etch shot a grateful look at Dean before slumping over slightly on the bar.
“Didn’t hurt anyone, did I?” she murmured, clearly trying to remain conscious.
He smiled as she talked, keeping an eye on her as she worked through the fit. “Not even a fly,” he assured. “Your brother would’ve gotten along with mine, big geeks the both of them.”
Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder, offering support, a terrible, amazing gift she had, and he wondered if the cons would one day kill her.
‘Careful,’ she said ruefully. ‘It wouldn’t do for me to knock you out now, would it?’ She managed a small grin. ‘I’m capable of making some sort of quasi-joke. A very good sign indeed, that.’ On impulse, she reached out her hand and shook Colt’s firmly, sliding some cash down the table to the bartender with the other. ‘I’d better be going. I’m done with the self-pity for tonight, I guess,’ she said, turning to go. Etch had almost made it to the door when she tripped slightly, slightly unsure of her bearings, and steadied herself on a burly, somewhat unpleasant-looking man sitting in the corner. Only she and Colt were paying attention and so were the only ones who noticed when he fell face first onto the table, only to wake up a second later and look slightly confused. Etch clapped a hand over her mouth and hurried out, saluting Colt as soon as she was out of the way, trying to stop herself laughing.
“Layers” character meme
LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE
LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE
- Name: Elisabeth Fenton (Etch).
- Eye Color: Dark brown
- Hair Style/Color: Long, straight and pale blonde
- Height: 5’10”
- Clothing Style: White button-down and black trousers, pretty much every day.
- Best Physical Feature: Eyes
LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS
- Your Fears: Being finally tracked down, losing anyone else
- Your Guilty Pleasure: Books of any kind
- Your Biggest Pet Peeve: People assuming I’m not street-savvy
- Your Ambition for the Future: Get a doctorate, get control of my abilities
LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?
- Your First Thoughts Waking Up: Why.
- What You Think About the Most: My past
- What You Think About Before Bed: Usually Shakespeare, lately
- You Think Your Best Quality Is: I love to learn?
LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?
- Single or Group Dates: Single. Not a fan of crowds.
- To be Loved or Respected:
Loved. Respected.- Beauty or Brains: Brains.
- Dogs or Cats: Cats, every time.
LAYER SIX: EVER?
- Lie: Not so much lie as not tell the whole truth.
- Believe in Yourself: No.
- Believe in Love: Yes.
- Want Someone: I want my family back, does that count?
But also um Clint.LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES
- Been on Stage: No
- Done Drugs: No
- Changed Who You Were to Fit In: I had to pretend I was human, for a while, but for my safety, not to fit in.
LAYER EIGHT: AGE
- Favorite Color: Black or dark green.
- Favorite Animal: Cats, probably. Perhaps elephants, because I like the old saying.
- Favorite Movie: La Double Vie de Veronique.
- Favorite Game: I don’t really do games?
LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL
- Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: December twelfth.
- How Old Will You Be: 19
- Age You Lost Your Virginity: 17
- Does Age Matter: I don’t think so.
LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE
- Best Personality: Intelligent, perceptive, accepting
- Best Eye Color: Don’t care.
- Best Hair Color: Don’t care either.
- Best thing to do With a Partner: Watch old movies.
- I love: Information
- I feel: reserved.
- I hide: because I have to.
- I miss: my brother.
- I wish: I could stop being afraid.
(via imgonnashoottothrill)
@imgonnashoottothrill
Dean’s eyes flicked up to make sure no one was paying too much attention before he focused on her as the episode started.
“How can I help you through this? If I can’t, talk to me, tell me more about Alex, what made him tick? What were his hobbies?” he asked softly, trying to get her through this. It looked incredibly painful.
Etch gripped the sides of her stool tightly, trying to force back down the memories.
“Don’t let me touch anyone; don’t want to knock ‘em out,” she managed, keeping her eyes tightly shut. “It’ll- it should go in a minute.” She let her eyes open for just a second when Dean mentioned Alex. “Physics. Reading. Anything he could. Smartest- fuck- smartest person I’ve ever known,” she said, breathing deeply and trying to make it stop any way she could.
As swiftly as it had started, she found the attack subsiding. With her breathing slowing, Etch shot a grateful look at Dean before slumping over slightly on the bar.
“Didn’t hurt anyone, did I?” she murmured, clearly trying to remain conscious.
(Source: callme-etch)
@imgonnashoottothrill
“Mostly just a pain in the ass,” Etch replied, shrugging. “I think it’s because of what happened with the car accident and then what happened a couple of years after that. My ‘formative years’ weren’t exactly the calmest of times for me.” As she reflected on what Colt had said, she realised that- knowing she seemed childish, actually consciously thinking it- it just wasn’t fair.
As he continued, she slowly set down her drink, watching him almost incredulously. “Jesus Christ,” she said quietly. “If I didn’t know what you do for a living I wouldn’t have believed you, but… Christ.” Silently she slid her glass towards him. “Go ahead. If I were in your place I’d need it. There was a pause, as she picked up on something he had said. “You have a brother?”
He laughed at her exclamation. “Nah, I’ve got enough drinking done for both of us, you need your alcohol,” he replied, sliding it back. Nodding, he took a drink of his own. “I do. Name’s Sam, just found him again after a decade. Damn smart, got a full ride to Stanford and he’s gonna be a lawyer. He’s huge, built like a tank and sweet as a teddy bear, need to catch up with him more.”
Etch grinned and finished off the drink herself. “He sounds like a good guy, Colt.” She looked away almost wistfully for a moment, before continuing. “Alex. He was seventeen, and he was damn good at physics. He probably would’ve gotten a scholarship somewhere as well, I suppose. When we were kids I’d help him study by reading his textbooks and transferring it all over to him so he didn’t have to memorise it himself- he used to say that it was cheating and he didn’t want to do it but I’d make him so he could concentrate on other things- he was always the smart one.”
She smiled to herself, then out of the blue reached out a hand to the edge of the bar, clutching it tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Etch clenched her free hand into a fist and tried to take a deep breath. And pretty much failed.
“Fuck,” she hissed. “Happening again.”
@imgonnashoottothrill
“That seems an awful lot, you planning to level or have you got a tumor?” he mused, picking at the label on his bottle, frowning a bit. It seemed like there was more at play than just her powers. Their abilities weren’t supposed to hurt them, because they were apart of them, as natural as breathing.
“No problem, Etch. My mom died, was murdered by something evil when I was four and my brother was a baby. Don’t know what it was, but dad heard her scream and we both ran to the nursery. She was pinned to the ceiling, with her stomach slashed. Then she burst into flames. After that, we started hunting. I learned to use a gun at four.”
“Mostly just a pain in the ass,” Etch replied, shrugging. “I think it’s because of what happened with the car accident and then what happened a couple of years after that. My ‘formative years’ weren’t exactly the calmest of times for me.” As she reflected on what Colt had said, she realised that- knowing she seemed childish, actually consciously thinking it- it just wasn’t fair.
As he continued, she slowly set down her drink, watching him almost incredulously. “Jesus Christ,” she said quietly. “If I didn’t know what you do for a living I wouldn’t have believed you, but… Christ.” Silently she slid her glass towards him. “Go ahead. If I were in your place I’d need it. There was a pause, as she picked up on something he had said. “You have a brother?”
(Source: callme-etch)
((Right, going to sleep in a minute. Do I owe anyone a reply?))
@imgonnashoottothrill
“Jesus Christ, can’t you just…transfer it off to a jump drive or something? Or the human equivalent?” he asked, stunned by the misery of her day.
“Fuck…I know the fiery thing well. I’m staying right here. You don’t need to be alone when you’re like this,” he murmured, finishing his drink and asking for another.
“Can’t think of how I’d manage that, I’m afraid,” she replied, her rant having calmed her down somewhat. She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair, leaning on the bar. “It’s not fun. Isn’t usually this bad, though, thankfully. I’d say it happens… once every day or two, otherwise. Once it didn’t happen for a week and I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, or something,” she said, half-smiling. It was surprising how much telling someone she hardly knew helped.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling genuinely- if not exactly cheerfully- for the first time that evening. “I don’t know anything about your situation, of course, but I understand enough to know that it’s awful. I’m sorry for what happened, Colt, whatever it was.”
(Source: callme-etch)
