thatsamilkshake: (awooga awooga aaaand she's down!)
August 2011
Tara comes to visit (Tara, Katchoo)
September 2011
Asdkajdhsljkh DINAH (...Dinah)
October 2011
Homecoming 2011 (Katchoo, Arthur)
November 2011
Portalocity sucks (Merlin, Momoko, not Freddie)
Portalocity still sucks (Katchoo, Jack Priest, Jon O'Neill, Merlin, Jaina, Dinah, Tahiri, Arthur, Momoko)
The Nothing sucks worse (Claire, Katchoo, Dinah, Arthur)
December 2011
The Gig (Firekeeper and Blind Seer)
Dite's (Karla)
Library Baked Goods Station (Kitty, Natalie)
J,GoB (Stark)
J,GoB on the GO (Katchoo, Arthur, Natalie, Chloe, Stark)
Special Collections
thatsamilkshake: (z-4cl-handkiss)

Francine Peters, Girl Reporter
Just another gray, ordinary, normal, boring day on the downtown beat of the Cityopolis Star for Francine Peters, Girl Reporter, which was perfectly fine with her. Her partner-in-type, however...

David "Ask Me About My Poetry Minor" Qin
...was rolling his bespectacled eyes. "Ho hum," said David 'Ask Me About My Poetry Minor' Qin. "Another statue unveiling. How come the paper never sends us where the action is, Francine?"

Francine Peters, Girl Reporter
Francine frowned at him over the top of her own horn-rims. "This is dangerous enough for me, thank you very much. You know how much I hate violence, David."

Dun dun DUUUUN...
Like, for instance, the violence she could hear happening 10 blocks over on 5th and Elm, where a robber was just bursting out the doors of the 1st Mercantile Bank, waving his gun and heading for the getaway car.

Francine had excellent hearing. You might even, if you were the kind of silly person who believed the stories about costumed heroes swooping around the city yet somehow never getting caught on film by the star reporters of the Cityopolis Star, call it 'Super.'

Dun dun DUUUN... )


The Purple Phantasm


"Don't leave me!" was a lot harder to shout clearly when you had a face full of pillow and somebody's yellow hair.

Wait...

"What the heck?"


[OOC: Tangled, spangled and spaghettied from Strangers In Paradise Vol. 3, Issue 1, preplayed with the lovely [livejournal.com profile] thismaskiwear, and now The Purple Phantasm and The Cat are stuck in Francine and Katchoo's dorm in St. Louis. Thread 2 is open for assuredly confusing calls or visitation if anyone desires!]
thatsamilkshake: (z - wee - bashful)
Leftover pizza made a great breakfast even when you were five, and Saturday morning cartoons were a pretty good distraction from the impending arrival of lunchtime, but it did finally catch up.

"I'm hungry." Let's see just how waiflike Francine could make herself look, shall we? "I want ice cream!"

_
[OOC: For the girl and an eventual bewildered guest, but open for calls set before he arrives, too.]
thatsamilkshake: (z - 20 yr - looking down)
Well, here goes nothin'... See ya in the funny papers, princess...

Francine, eyes still closed, was trying to rub at her forehead while someone was kissing her hand. Wasn't working out so well. That happened when you were still three quarters asleep, and that someone was leaving, and...

"Wait! Color woman! Take me with you! Don't leave me here!"

Well. That woke her up, enough to sit bolt upright on the ...couch where she'd fallen asleep. At least she could reach her forehead now, which was good, because it ached - like every other part of her. Black-and-white superheroines might feel no pain after a late flight, a later call home to check in on their daughter (with their husband was a lost cause, but somehow Francine had managed to ask if he was home yet with a straight face, even if she'd already known what the answer would be) and five hours sleep on a hotel lobby couch, but Francine Peters-Silver was no superheroine.

She sure as hell wasn't 20 years younger and 40 pounds lighter, with longer hair and a white streak that she'd been dyeing away since before Ashley was born, and she was pretty sure superheroines didn't get hangovers from airline cocktails either, even more than a few of them. Flying in planes used to just make her nervous, but that was before... Francine shook her head, which was an achey mistake, but just one more on top of the giant pile that was this weekend. What was she even doing here? What had possessed her to think this was a good idea? What had possessed her mother, of all people, who usually preferred to pretend Francine's last two years of high school never happened, to suggest that she come back for this reunion?

Francine stretched, also a mistake, and pushed her way to her feet. Now that she was here and awake, she might as well check in.

[OOC: Establishy, but also open if anyone who's not a miniscule blonde would like to run into her before the mixer.]
thatsamilkshake: (phone)
"No, Mom, she didn't kick me out of the room." Dear God, there was not enough no in the universe for this call, at this hour of the night, with this much punch still wandering through Francine's system. "I just didn't want to keep her awake; it's late. No, of course it's not too late for you to call, especially on my birthday, I didn't mean that; we're just, I mean she's just tired. No, Mom, come on, you don't have to -- is that Muffins? What's she got in her mouth? It sounds like-- A what? Where would she get a-- Oh, a rubber duck..."

She so wasn't sober awake enough to deal with this. Francine slipped her shoes off and tucked her feet under her as she curled into the corner of the couch and tried not to yawn, or worse, nod off.

Why were the pillows on these couches so darn comfy? Not helping at all.

[Estaaaaaaaablishy...]
thatsamilkshake: (z-wv-neutral)
Wow, a red-letter day for Francine: the first time since she'd left Fandom that she actually missed the ability to fume her way over to Caritas and order whatever the heck she wanted without getting carded.

Not that she'd ever done that while she was there and not thinking she was someone else -- she just missed the ability now. Peppermint hot chocolate just wasn't the same. Francine sighed and glanced out the window at the sidewalk; at least the drink was warm, unlike the cold, grumbling rain outside.

Oh God, someone was waving at her from the gym next door. Pigtails, leotard, bright, wide smile... Any other time, maybe, but the last thing Francine wanted to do right now was talk to someone who would bounce in her face.

Which was why she immediately grabbed her phone and held it to her ear as if she'd just received a Very Important Call. Don't make eye contact don't make eye contact don't make eye contact...

[Open for actual calls/texts, because scaring the frak out of Francie is fun. Francie, on the other hand, is not very fun at all right now. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. Also given the hour and my threat-level-violet headache, SP is the name of the game; pinging in late/tomorrow is fiiine.]
thatsamilkshake: (reading)
Francine was reading over her homework as she wandered into the classroom, which made for a decent student but a bad pedestrian: oof - she'd walked right into someone's back. "Oh! Sorry sorry sorry!"
"What the-- oh, Francine." The pissed-off tone changed rapidly when its owner realized exactly which soft things had smacked into his back. "Hey, how you doin'?"
"Freddie? What're you doing here? You're not in Child Psychology." Though that gave Francine weird mental images of Freddie Femur trying to out-argue some hyper-genius 12-year-old lawyer in a courtroom...and losing.
"No, I was just, ah." He shrugged, then grinned a you got me, officer grin. "Following your hot T.A. Might'a got a little distracted."
Color Francine really confused now. "Our hot T.A....Mark? Oh God, we brought it with us from Fandom. Everybody I know everywhere is g--"
Luckily for Freddie's questionable manhood and unquestionable lack of tact, he never heard the end of that sentence. "That hot T.A., Peters." He pointed toward the lectern, then after a brief appreciative stare, looked back at Francine. "Sheesh, how could you not notice her for the first month of classes?" His gaze slid down from her face. Oh yeah. "Right, never mind, you're a girl. You wouldn't get it."
Oh, Francine got it. Now that she'd looked. The girl didn't exactly scream hard to get. "I didn't notice her because I've never seen her before."
The glasses might have said librarian, but the leather skirt, low-cut black sweater, and hair down to her butt said sexy librarian. "Hi, kids; I'm Rachel Hampton. Mark had to head home due to some unfortunate medical issues, so I'll be your teaching assistant for the rest of the semester. Professor Walsh is going to be about fifteen minutes late due to a meeting, so go ahead and leave your assignments with me, and have yourself a study-break until he gets here."
Francine pushed gently past a gooey-eyed Freddie with a shake of her head, dropped her paper on the desk, then headed back to find herself a seat. Mark had been more her kind of eye candy, but at least this meant she had some free time today to catch up on some of the messages she'd missed while they were in Camelot. Starting with a reply that just said //OMG, girl!!!! Those PICTURES!//


[OOC: Open for texts and....really quiet calls?]
thatsamilkshake: (phone 2)
Since Francine had lucked out with no afternoon classes on Mondays, it was the perfect day to grab lunch to go at the dining hall, then take it back to the dorm to sprawl on the bed, dunk fries in ranch dressing, flip through the latest issue of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker: Season 8, and catch up on the world outside of eastern Missouri.

Via her phone, not a comic book about creating new universes by having airborne sex with ... seriously? Wow, this series had not only jumped the shark, it had done a belly-flop onto the shark's back and was now waterskiing behind it while performing opera in Chinese.

[Open for calls, texts, etc., and as always, Le Girl]
thatsamilkshake: (z-boy-shirtless)
Rule number one to Life After Fandom: Don't think you're safe; Fandom follows you.

Rule number two: Don't get blasé; Fandom laughs at your attempts to predict it, then spits pudding in your eye.

Rule number three: Don't ever answer the door when you're half asleep, even if you hear humming in the hallway followed by a loud "OOPS!" and something thudding loudly against the wood. (This is actually a fairly useful rule if you haven't left Fandom yet, too.)

Should you forget not only one, but all three of these rules (even after being harshly reminded of the first one yesterday morning) you might find yourself muttering "The heck?" in a rather low voice, badly-wrapped in a rather short robe, and facing Margie McCoy badly-wrapped in an even shorter one and leaving nothing to the imagination as she bends down to pick up the bar of Irish Spring that just thudded off your door.

Oh, sorry... )

Rule 6 is kind of a comfort, though: Whenever Fandom screws you over, you're never alone.

Which was why Francine was sending out text messages now:

[img attachment]


--CRAP! STILL! YOU TOO?--

[OOC: Open for texts, calls, and the Girl! ..ish.]
thatsamilkshake: (reading)
Whatever an Interdisciplinary Core Curriculum meant in the eyes of the faculty, in reality, according to Francine's student-mentor -- which was like a Fandom High Big Sibling only involved less cookies, sadly -- it meant "Stupid History-Literature-Social-Studies Class They Stick All The Freshmen Into No Matter What Their Major Is So You Can Have One More Semester Of Jocks and Geeks Sitting Side By Side And Making Each Other Miserable Before You're Free To Hide In Your Own Department For The Rest Of Your Life."

The course catalog called it "World Cultures 101." Possibly because it saved printing space.

Francine called it her last class of the week in her first week of classes, and was kind of hoping she could keep her streak of Woohoo, No Homework Yet going strong and proud, so as she took a seat, she was paying more attention to the syllabus she'd picked up off the professor's desk than anyone sitting near her.

If it sounds like that was going to be a mistake, it's probably because you've met this narrative before.

[OOC: for NPC shenanigans courtesy [livejournal.com profile] bitch_prince, but also open for texts.]
thatsamilkshake: (swirly)
Francine had long ago figured out that Angelica Demesnes and her ilk -- not that Francine would use the word ilk unless she was trying to spell milk in a game of Scrabble and somebody else had already laid down the M -- had no clue what life was like in a medieval kingdom.

What she was sadly finding out now was that medieval kingdoms had no clue how to write historically-suspect bodice-heaving romance the way Angelica Demesnes did.

Instead, she got to sit on a step and try to make it through at least one paragraph of Ye Tragik Historye of Sir Ethelred the Dubious and His Enormouse-Busumed Wyfe before her eyes started swimming again.

[For NPC shenanigans, though The Girl, she is welcome also!]
thatsamilkshake: (reading)
After everything that had happened in the last few weeks, Francine should probably be spending her last Saturday in Fandom wandering around the island enjoying the sights and sounds of the place as it was supposed to be, not sprawled on her bed reading Cosmo, but... air conditioning.

And Slim Your Thighs In 6 Minutes a Day.

[OOC: for a phone call, and the roomiebffgirl, of course, if she so desires. I WARN YOU NOW I AM FALLING ASLEEP, PEOPLE.]
thatsamilkshake: (making the bed)
It wasn't in Francine to miss that she seemed to spend a lot of time packing and unpacking lately, especially after that conversation in the diner with Katchoo. Now, even though she was only packing for a few days away, it was hard not to feel like it was a trial run for the real thing, especially with Fandom being... Fandom, this week, but the weirdness not affecting her at all.

Which left her... where? Nervous and excited (though that was more the idea of this week's vacation than the idea of the coming September) and more than a little bit wistful, with Griffin Silver playing softly through her laptop speakers, and the door propped open for a breeze and to remind herself that she was still here for now.

[Open! Before or after visitors are gone.]
thatsamilkshake: (relaxed)
After the on-again-off-again of this trip Francine hadn't even considered that they might get cell phone reception in Ancient Greece until someone else tried it. Now, though, she was having second thoughts about calling people, considering there was no way to re-charge the battery once it ran down. On the other hand, there was no point in having reception if she kept it turned off, so...

So she and Katchoo headed out to sit by the side of the river on a blanket that probably used to be part of an animal, and text. Or at least let certain people know they were able to receive them.

[OOC: for the girl and the boyses!]
thatsamilkshake: (depressed)
So it turns out that punching a tree? Kinda stupid. SAM. Which was why the girl with her chin buried in the fur of a hunting hound (that she was still allowed to call a puppy because...YOUR FACE) looked like she was flipping people the bird if they walked past the half-open door. It wasn't them; it was just the splint. ...Okay, it was also the mood. But still not them.

Brynne, unsurprisingly, was very good at cuddling; Owain...tried to be? But there was a reason the owl on the bed was currently cuddling with Francine's birthday present (whose name was apparently Agravaine, according to -- well, that thought wasn't depressing, was it) instead of Francine.

Look, she wasn't letting them spend the night in the stables tonight, shut up. Also, just... shut up.

[OOC: Open but emo. Last post before Francie heads off for the backpacking trip, but probably not the last post in Fandom.]
thatsamilkshake: (dubious)
"They're not here either," Francine said after knocking a second time. "Unless they're ignoring us. I'd ignore us, after Monday." She knocked once more, loudly, then shook her head, turning back to Katchoo and utterly failing to hide the probably stupid concern on her face.

Read more... )

[[ NFB, NFI, and preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] nevertobequeen and [livejournal.com profile] thismaskiwear! ]]
thatsamilkshake: (graduation)


Alums
The Construction Guy )


The Girl Next Door )

On-Island
The Queen of the Mississippi )

Me

*Answers to MP or Amy
*Has dyed red hair and more cats than you
*Lives with [livejournal.com profile] heromaniac
*Is one of your humble admins, and would love to hear from you if there's something you need help with officially
*Is a graphics geek, an LJ geek and a general dork, and would love to hear from you if there's something you need help with unofficially.
*Especially the dork part - is very good at providing this service.
*Is 37 today

thatsamilkshake: (packages)
Arthur's room had been empty, and Francine hadn't been especially surprised by that after getting through the entire crazy graduation ceremony more or less intact had left them hoping, then this morning had brought...this morning. Still, she was hoping the knock on the door to Merlin's would produce something besides silence. "They're not here either," she said, shifting the stack of covered dishes in her arms.

[OOC: Le room modded with permission, for the girl and then (eventually) the rest of the Clustre du Fucque. Warning for ... general Wrongness and some degree of NWS.]
thatsamilkshake: (making the bed)
Separation of beds? Check. Francine's bed was pushed back over to the window, and neatly made.

Mostly because it hadn't been slept in last night. The other bed? Ahahaha. Pile of rumpled blankets, pillows, and girl-in-a-slip struggling with the second pair of panty-hose this morning. Francine swore -- the Katchoo way and then the oathy way -- that one more run and she was just saying screw it and going bare-legged.

[OOC: For the girl and the Mom of Dooooom]
thatsamilkshake: (sleepy)
They did not, in fact, break the bed, and thank God they'd both been too busy trying, to bother listening to the radio.

And now it was Saturday, after a long week of longness and Francine and Katchoo totally deserved a nice long lie-in of longness to match.

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

[OOC: for kids, co-parents, and Certain Annoying Elder Gods]
thatsamilkshake: (with wee one)
Despite this being her day of classes, Francine was still finding it a relaxing one compared to last week. Besides, she didn't have class for another hour or so. She could totally hang out on her bed, read the interview with Gwen DeMarco in the latest issue of Starlog magazine and... playwiththedroidbaby Hush.

_
[OOC: first thread is for she who knows who she is, but open after!]
thatsamilkshake: (umbrella)
After six long days of no classes, when's the best time to be perched on the open windowsill, swinging your bare legs and waiting up for your roommate who is also your girlfriend to get back to the room, while clad in a raincoat and a grin that keeps trying for seductive and ends up dorky? Monday night, right.

Hey, it wasn't like she had early classes.

[For the tiny blonde with issues. No, the other o-- no, the other one.]
thatsamilkshake: (making the bed)
Her classes for the week taken care of in one swell foop, Francine could have flopped back to bed for a nap, but that sort of thing led to a certain amount of staring at the ceiling in the kind of brood that Arthur had tried to poke her out of last week, and she couldn't exactly say he was wrong about distractions.

So she was sorting laundry while watching an early-season Bitterwoman marathon, and occasionally glancing at the chair where yesterday's purchases from DDD's were laid out (there were tags to clip off, still), wondering if she should try them on again now that she was back in her own room with the right shoes available and a door that locked.

Not that she'd locked it, or even shut it, at the moment.

[OOC: Up eeearly for an expected SP, but open is as open does!]
thatsamilkshake: (z-wv-looking down)
This was stupid and Francine shouldn't be here; she should hole up in Momoko's room until this weekend thing wore off and she woke up back where she was supposed to be. But here she was.

Francine hadn't been here since yesterday morning. Francine hadn't been to the version of here she used to call hers since the sun had come out in Greenland months ago and she'd walked out of that other Fandom without looking back. But here she was.

Knowing now that this wasn't a nightmare or some kind of last-ditch effort by the vampires to drag them all back... didn't make knocking on this door any easier, or any less tempting. Or any less stupid.

But here she was, doing it anyway.
thatsamilkshake: (z-wv-horrified)
Francine wasn't unused to waking up and trying to remember where she was; after Fandom, they'd moved around a lot, first looking for a little girl's home, and after they'd found it, being dumb enough for a while not to realize there was no point in looking for theirs.

Not being alone, that wasn't unfamiliar either. So it would take her a minute or so. You know. To really open her eyes and...

Scream. As you do.

[For the girl!]
thatsamilkshake: (hurrying in)
As she headed back to the dorms from town, Francine was more lost in her own thoughts than usual, between being back in Fandom after a week away, the conversation this morning, and the ... thing that didn't happen yesterday morning.

So she paid no attention to... )

By the time Francine made it back to her room, the creep factor was fading a bit -- though she was still no clearer on what it meant -- but you better believe she was locking the door this time.

[OOC: Preplayed with and coded by the bonny [livejournal.com profile] blondecanary. Sneaky business is NFB, but post is open after Francine's return. Door's locked but knockable. Or openable with a key if you're Katchoo.]

Room 505

Feb. 18th, 2010 10:12 pm
thatsamilkshake: (making the bed)
Unsurprisingly (if you'd met Francine), her conversation with Arthur this morning had led to Francine completely unpacking the suitcase that had been ready next to her bed for a week, as soon as she and Katchoo got back from That Club. (Look, she wasn't even up to calling it by its proper name, let alone anything with the word ass in it.)

So now she had an open suitcase, a pile of clothes and toiletries, a passport she was going to misplace at least twice before the night was over, a fluffy white bunny with big sharp teeth on her pillow, a room slightly over-full of roses, and a door propped open by a Fodor's Guide To Great Britain.

[Open, like it sez!]
thatsamilkshake: (z - chocolate fever)
You'd think that after a rather excellent week and a fudge-covered weekend, Francine would be, if perhaps not raring to get up early for class tomorrow, at least in a pretty good mood.

If you hadn't seen her today. If you had, and that made you a very rare soul since she barely ventured out of her room, you'd wonder just what the heck she'd come down with that left little brown spots all over her face and hands, just too regular to be freckles.

Either that, or you'd wonder if she hadn't actually showered since the chocolate dunk tank, and someone had done a bad job of licking it off. (You'd be wrong, and also liable to get hit if you asked.)

All in all, it made for a grumpy, frustrated, itchy Francine who sprawled on the bed pretending to do her homework now.

[OOC: Sure, open. I'll be conscious for an hour or so yet.]
thatsamilkshake: (flash - ohgodnotagain)
There should not be scratching at a shower curtain. From the outside. No. Then again, Francine was too busy murdering All the Single Ladies with her face under the water, to hear it.

So she didn't notice until the curtain actually moved.

Step 1: Panic. "Hey!" Crap, which parts should she try to cover?
Step 2: Moment of logic. "Katchoo, is that you?"
Step 3: Watch as curtain gets ripped aside to reveal a gremlin. With 2-inch long claws and fiery red eyes. So not Katchoo then.
Step 4: Scream!
Step 5: ?
Step 6: Profit Flail and kick at it, stumbling out of the shower. "Get out of heeere!"
Step 7: Scream again as it bites you on the leg. Hard. And then unlike any sane gremlin, keeps trying to scrabble its way up your wet, soapy body.
Step 8: FLAIL HARDER!
Step 9: Watch gremlin finally detach and go sailing out the window.
Step 10: Bleed. Nakedly.
__

[OOC: For one, and then she's outta heeeeere!]

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