can_has_vodka: (ohai)
 [The shot is of the rowdy interior of the Lash: people drinking, dancing, some maniac sawing away on a fiddle, boots stomping--and Arkady's giggling in the background.]

Come on down, loves! Things are heating up around here and I've got two good hands to sling grog with! Don't tell me you're thinking of sleeping when there's fun to be had!

[Of course, Arkady herself is starting to long for a bit of sleep. Under the smile she is growing tired. A good barmaid has to be quick, cheery, keep a good memory and dodge pinches that come two or three thick at times. So eventually, she asks her cohorts to cover her while she ducks outside to grab some air. Once out the door, she finds a clear spot on the wall and leans against it, puffing out her breath and reaching up to rub her aching temples.]
can_has_vodka: (zen)
 [A pair of Rhode Island Red chickens in bright blue cloth diapers march around the floor of the greenhouse. Arkady sits just under the rotunda in Lotus. The lights are dimmed to night-cycle, but soft purple light emanates--from her, for she is deep in meditation, her mind expanded to take in the overwhelming panorama of possible futures and worlds spread ahead of them. On the Barge, there have been so many possibilities that predicting the future is almost impossible, but that is no excuse to miss practice. She loves the changes to the greenhouse, and though she can't quite enjoy them in her current state, she's happy enough that they will be there when she opens her eyes.]

[She senses the minds on the Deck and withdraws slightly, dodging away from investigating their thoughts. She gets lonely sometimes, stuck within the confines of his own mind, but it is a small price to pay for the opportunities here.]
can_has_vodka: (wandering)
Hello loves. I'm going to be dividing my time down the pub, so if you need anything in there just message me.

Also, I um...made a great number of snowthings on the deck, if anyone should have the urge to come smash them.

[spam for infirmary]
[Arkady appears suddenly just outside the Infirmary door, carrying coffeemaking supplies. It's her guess that things have been so crazed that no one has had a chance to refill the coffee corner, and she quietly goes to do just that, threading easily through the infirmary. She's here to volunteer her time and powers; better that than more crying.]
can_has_vodka: (wandering)
[Arkady Collins, bestselling New Age author and crystal-waving hippie, has set up a row of little snowmen which are now wandering around her yard, some dancing, others caroling a bit off-key. There's also a giant snow-inchworm lumbering randomly across the property.

[She is tending to a banked bonfire worth of colds beneath an enormous fat-bellied cauldron full of steaming cider. She gives it a stir regularly, gives passerby drinks using a nearby stack of mugs, and occasionally adds to either the fire or the contents. The whole setup is bigger than she is, and she's even standing on an apple box to stir the cauldron. But she sets to it all cheerfully, and has a smile for passerby.]
can_has_vodka: (ohai)
[The video switches on to reveal the inside of the sparkling-clean Pub. Part of the bar has been taken up with a set of coffee makers, a grinder, and an espresso steamer. Arkady is hurrying around tending to it all; the amount of coffee steam is impressive. She beams over her shoulder at the camera.]

Hullo! I have a little project I need some help on. Now's the season for hot drinks, and though my tea, cider and toddy are all presentable, I'd like some opinions on my coffee. If you're a lover of the bean and have some time today, please come by the deck near the Warden area, where I'll have a tasting booth set up. 

[Warden Filter]
Right. So. Besides coffee, I need help. Both short term help and long term help. We need two people to help me keep the pub running. Inmates should be fairly stable with no alcohol issues, and please let's arrange a meeting to make sure we all get along all right. I don't really need a bouncer.  Also, if anyone wants to spell me at the coffee booth for bits of time I'd be grateful, for I'll need to pop in and out of the pub to make more.

[Infirmary Filter]
You know, it would be an easy thing for me to pop in with a pot or two several times a day if you've no time to brew your own. I understand you're shorthanded right now and I'd like to help where I can. Coffee, tea, both? How strong do you take it?

[private to Seventh Doctor]
I have fresh eggs, and I just baked bread, and I have a lovely new tea-set I'd like to try out. Would you like to come over for a cuppa and some eggy toast? We don't have to talk about what's been going on if you don't wish, but I'd like to sit with you a while.

[spam for deck]
[Arkady made good on her offer and is now presiding over an impromptu stand backed against the wall of the Warden only area. On the tables, protected by a series of colorful umbrellas, are heated carafes of the various drinks--from various strengths of straight coffees to espresso to flavored mochas. Being her own ancestor the pubgirl has inspired her, and she buzzes around humming and filling mugs for people.

[Now and again as she catches a break the whim hits her and she squeaks and runs for the nearest snowdrift. *FOOMPH* And makes a snow angel.]
can_has_vodka: (play)
[Accidental Video]
[The angle is from the floor of Arkady's front room: there's a slice of Oriental carpeted floor, and the leg of a coffee table.]

[A familiar pair of bare feet runs by the camera]

[Female giggling]

[Teeny tiny voices giggling]

[Running feet thump fast again]

[Small crash and shriek of laughter]

[A large red hen wanders up to the camera and peers into it. *blinkblink* *bok*]

[A bit later...]
[Arkady is laughing as she picks up her communicator.]

Hullo loves! In case anyone needs a distraction, I'm doing a bit of research. What's your favorite drink? It doesn't have to be alcoholic. Recipes are appreciated!

[Warden Filter]
Right! So, is anyone running the pub anymore? If not, does anyone mind if I do? I will need assistance if I do this but not much.

can_has_vodka: (Default)
[Arkady's sitting by the lake in the CES, legs crossed, an eager expression on her face as she peers into it.]

Hullo and hullo! Arkady here, is Whitechapel online?
can_has_vodka: (thoughtful)
I'm holding a group meditation on deck this evening after dinner if any of you are interested. 

[incredibly generous friends filter]
Hullo! I have a present for you. You can pick it up in my cabin. It will be a good excuse for me to pour tea into you and talk.

[warden filter]
Perhaps it would be a good idea to open up the pub as soon as people have healed up enough to enjoy it. I'm willing to step behind the bar and help the usual staff mix drinks to handle the extra bodies.

Also: emergency kits. These saved lives in Whitechapel and may do so here. Even with the proper Admiral back, things happen here. People may be trapped in their rooms again. Many of you use variations on the idea already, but wouldn't it make sense to put in an organized effort to supply everyone with one? The basic kit is four gallons of water per person, nonperishable food for a week, some basic bandages, a police whistle and a light source.

[Private to the Admiral]
Please restore Xerxes. Poor little thing. 

Also, if it is not too much trouble, I'd like forty cakes of Lorien Waybread, twenty sturdy four-gallon water containers, and twenty wind-up lanterns. I'm on a mission.

And...well, I don't know if anyone's asked this yet, but are you doing all right, luv?

[Spam for deck]
[Arkady took down all her light strings from the stairwell, changed the batteries, and is now stringing them up on the garden arbors and fences and around the entrances to the greenhouses, humming quietly as she goes. She knows not many people may show up for the meditation, but that isn't the point. The point is that some will show, and need some guidance and comfort. And that is enough. She hums softly and tunelessly as she works.]
can_has_vodka: (worried)
[[OOC: After this.]]

[Infirmary Filter]
[Arkady sounds very tired and very worried.]

Mozenrath is in trouble. He has a series of bad bites and one is still bleeding. He's lost a lot and standing is right out for him right now. I can get us to you or you to him, your call, but moving him is a bit tricky right now. 

We've put pressure on the wound and I'm going to keep him awake and try and get him to drink something. But time's essential in this case. Please help if you at all can.

[OOC: This message will repeat every five minutes until someone offers help or Mozenrath bleeds out. Right now it has been going for a while.]
can_has_vodka: (thoughtful)
[private to Mozenrath]
If you wish to go off by yourself, you will do me the courtesy of asking me directly.

[Open spam]
[Arkady actually had no desire whatsoever to spend any more time with her Inmate than she had to. She was getting a little tired of having to chase him down all the time; she was sick of having to justify her value as a Warden to him; and frankly she was starting to wonder about the pairing. His relationships with Severus and Martha and his friends were obviously much more important to him than that with her, whether graduation was important to him or not. Nor had Martha followed through on contacting her to discuss Mozenrath and his situation. Feeling shut out by multiple people and very irritated about it, she needed a break from the Mozenrath situation, and soon.]

[She was lonely, and kept thinking across the Channel to London. But she knew that if she reached out with her mind her fellow FreakAngels would not be there. And no one around here cared to share minds with her; the lot of telepaths on the Barge were all paranoid and heavily shielded. It was isolating, and a little insulting. Was she considered not good enough to share minds with because she was basically human? How stupid.]

[So she found herself sitting at the edge of a fountain, alone, quietly reading the minds of those who came near without trying to talk back. It made her feel a little less lonely, and reminded her that there was a world outside the Barge which she was welcome to go back to. The rest of the clan probably missed her. She would not be missed here, would she? Discouraged, she tried to soothe herself with the happiness and excitement of the tourists around her.]
can_has_vodka: (thoughtful)
[warden filter]
Pub Night once a week sounds comforting in all this ugliness. Especially with the awesome new brews available! What day would 1011101101010100010

I think 10001010101010101111011010101011010110101010110101100 and congratulations to the both of you.

Also, with the blackouts, would it be advisable to tell people to avoid the elevator?

[spam for halls and stairs]
[Arkady has several strings of battery powered lights which she has looped around her neck and shoulders, draping herself in glowing pot leaves and pumpkins. She carries a pair of crank-powered electric lanterns, and wears a look of determination that clashes with the hippie-fairy look.]

[She is "listening" telepathically for the burst of surprise, consternation, annoyance and sometimes fear that heralds a blackout in a public area. When it happens, she teleports nearby and walks in through the nearest public access door to help lead the person where they are going.]

[She does this for a good chunk of the night, from about eight o'clock on.]

can_has_vodka: (worried)

Well, it looks like the Admiral has gone poo all over my tailgate party idea, unless we really can make the CES into a parking lot with a stadium viewer. Does anyone have any other good group party ideas? I suggest we do it before whatever it is creeps into the CES as well. 


[meant to be private to Mozenrath, guessed it...]
Whatever this thing is, at least part of its intent is obvious. It plans to *kssssshhhhhshhhh* by making us as frightened as possible. To that end, controlling our emotional reactions to this thing is just as important as looking for defenses against it.

[heavy, rasping breathing sounds]

Gardens. After dinner. We'll train regularly until controlling the fear reaction becomes easy.itwon'twork

can_has_vodka: (thoughtful)
There seems a terrible need for diversion around here. There have been calls for both a tailgate party and a spa party. I can't manage either on my own. I have some help making them happen but could use a lot more if we're to do both things properly. Who is game?

[Warden Filter]
I need people to help taste test my margaritas. I've been practicing!

[Private to Mozenrath]
You're right, you know. About the importance of free will in matters of romance. The person I was was too singleminded and pushy. You can pretty much nix my whole argument to you while I was like that. I believe love's essential, but it is something a person comes to in their own time. I've been alone six years myself. I'm open to something happening, but I don't plan my whole future life around it and I'm not expecting you to either. Just letting you know I'm not going to go all full time amateur-cupid on you.

We should meet. Meditation practice, and some talk of future plans.

can_has_vodka: (zen)
That was a little bit amazing. I feel sad that so many are uncomfortable as a result of the announcement though.

[Private (and unusually lucid) to Mozenrath]
I imagine this must be uncomfortable for you, since you barely know me and I'm following up an especially excellent Warden. I think that making it not-uncomfortable should be my first job. To that end, I would like to invite you into my home.  Not even the other FreakAngels have seen it. There, we can have refreshment and you may ask me whatever you want. I won't insult you by simply deciding things. We should negotiate, and sort this out in a way we can both handle. You'll find I keep my promises.

For the record, I'm rather glad it's you. It's so much easier for me to explain things to someone both intelligent and mystical, and we got on all right.

[Private to Seven]
I have an Inmate now, but I still want to help you, and will set aside time for the work we discussed.

can_has_vodka: (worried)
Um, hullo. There's rather a lot of nasty things happening. I was wondering if anyone just needed someone neutral who is a good listener to talk at for a while. I'm available, and I'll keep things in confidence.  If you have a Warden you should probably confide in them first, ears work too, and a good number of people either don't have Wardens or are Wardens. So...the offer's open.

If you'd rather in person, we can meet somewhere. I can bring tea or coffee or beer or wine, and some of our lovely strawberries.

[Warden filter]
Does any department have any use for a teleporter? I can take two people with me and they do not have to be conscious. I could be a very good ambulance, for example.
can_has_vodka: (zen)
[Have a spritely young bald woman in filmy clothes, perching on a scratched wooden desk and beaming at you. Her eyes are bright, bright purple and almost seem to glow slightly, and she is very pale.]

Hullo everybody! I'm Arkady, and I'm from the Island of Whitechapel. Of course, for most of you Whitechapel isn't an island, but we had a little problem with the Thames getting loose from its banks, and ever since then things have been a bit wet in London. Whitechapel has about twice as many people as this place, and we just took on a hundred more. We'll make do, though. We just need to pull together. [It's not clear whether she's speaking of Whitechapel or the Barge. Both maybe?]

I'm to be a Warden here, and if there's a need for help anywhere, do let me know! [She pauses, blinks at the screen, and then leeeeans forward and peers into it as if she can see some of you on the other side. A giggle; the purple eyes blink and she pulls back again.]

I'll be up on Deck in the gardens if anyone wants to say hello! Yay flowers!

[A few seconds later she literally appears a few feet from the Colour Garden, which she immediately crouches down to inspect.] Hello flowers!
can_has_vodka: (ohai)
User Name/Nick: Becca

User LJ: panteraonca

AIM/IM: doctressamnesia


Other Characters: Dracula, Wanda, Hannibal
Character Name: Arkady

Series: FreakAngels

Age: 23

From When?: Episode 120. All the FreakAngels have received their power upgrades, and all twelve are reunited. Arkady's brain has become a little less addled (important) but she has not yet realized that she does not have to touch people to teleport them.

Inmate/Warden: Warden. Arkady has a very strong moral compass, and her flighty personality masks a lot of empathy and intelligence. She is a quiet, but very effective, enforcer of Freakangels Law, which forbids the exploitation of humans by psychics. She is also used to working in a trouble-, weirdness- and violence-prone community, and consistently works for the greater good.

Item: Mood ring! Of course.

Abilities/Powers: Arkady is a powerful projective and receptive telepath, whose "bag of tricks" includes causing and repairing psychic damage, creating a psychic link, and knocking someone unconscious. She can teleport, taking up to two normal people with her (or all the FreakAngels) provided that they are touching. (On the Barge she cannot teleport into private rooms without invitation). Her precognitive abilities are powerful but very, very spotty even when she focuses on them, because the future is mutable and only certain events are "set" enough for her to perceive them. (On the Barge this will largely be used as a dispenser of plotbunnies and as a plot device; this requires OOC planning and permission from those involved.) Since her drowning death and "upgrade" (see below) she has learned to telepathically communicate with animals, and has developed a form of x-ray vision.

Personality: Arkady comes off as a sweet, but dotty and possibly immature young lady who is equal parts hippie freak, faerie/Delirium clone, and wise woman. A perpetually stoned and childlike Bodhisattva might come close, though sometimes she lapses into pure childishness. Like most of the FreakAngels she is a benevolent punk, semi-anarchic, into collective action and concerned with the greater good. Before her second "upgrade" she was considerably more scattered, wandering around in precognitive trances and then promptly forgetting where she had been, running around in a transparent skirt without underwear, and being equal parts helpful and distracting. These days, since her latest death experience, she has become a lot more balanced and helpful.

She is a psychonaut; of all the Freakangels she is the one most dedicated to exploring and expanding her psychic abilities. She spends hours in meditation, sometimes using alcohol (or anything besides injectables) as an entheogen to try and help expand her mind. (Vodka is a favorite, apparently.) Much of this time is specifically used to try and view the future, an exercise which requires extreme concentration and sometimes leaves her "tranced out" for a period afterward. During this time she will wander around being the cryptically mumbling seeress, often shocking people with her revelations--and then, especially before her upgrade, completely forgetting the incident. An example of this is her first appearance, wherein she is reminded that she walked through the market last week informing three people of the exact time and circumstances of their deaths.

She is an extreme eccentric, with quirks of speech (she literally speaks lolcat at times), dress (or lack thereof), movement and behavior that are endearing and unnerving in turns. Connor, another FreakAngel, describes her in the following way: "Arkady's going to seem a little spacey to you. And, truth is, she's not in her head much. But don't be fooled. Sometimes she's an acid casualty, sure, but sometimes she's sharper than anyone has a right to be."  Distractable as hell unless things are deadly serious, she has periods of fuzzyheadedness wherein she cannot tell her precognitive visions from things from the past or things people have told her. She learned to teleport months before she actually bothered to let the other FreakAngels know, and then once used it to bamf a fellow Freakangel out over the river for threatening her precious chikkens. Faced with that same FreakAngel's torture chamber, her only complaint while the rest of the Angels flipped out was "It smells of poo!" She has a habit of being myserious without meaning to be, merely because she spends so much time off meditating or pushing the limits of her powers, and will sometimes twig to a course of action without remembering to tell the others what she is doing or why. Invariably, however, her larger actions contribute to the greater good, even as her "Oo, a butterfly!" spaceyness makes her seem less reliable than she actually is.

People who are used to her usually find her warm, caring and very amusing; however, this requires a certain level of tolerance for her essential weirdness--for example, her tendency to poof in via teleportation without any warning whatsoever. She adores animals, and was delighted when she discovered that she could communicate with them telepathically. She likes children as well, and is very pro-people in general except when it comes to those who cause a lot of strife or threaten those she protects. She does not scare easily...except around corpses or poop.

She has an extremely strong moral compass, and is one of the most dedicated enforcers of Freakangels Law. In part this is because of guilt over her part in "ending the world" back in her teens; she was the one who proposed that all twelve FreakAngels combine their powers. She hates violence and the exploitation of others, and avoids/prevents/defuses it as much as she can, often by clever uses of teleportation and telepathy. For example, when she caught another FreakAngel trying to take over his ex girlfriend's mind, she stopped him, first with a warning and then by projecting one second of her teenage overdose experience into his mind, which knocked him so loopy that he left without incident.

She is a playful hedonist, enjoying alcohol and cannabis (both of which she tries to use as entheogens, to expand the boundaries of her powers; she never touches harder drugs since her overdose), teleporting around for fun, leaving random gifts, playing little pranks, popping in with bits of wisdom or weirdness and then popping out again, and enjoying the simple pleasures of life with an enthusiasm that more jaded FreakAngels (and people in general) can't really understand, but often find amusing. She can find happiness in very bleak circumstances, while working to make them less bleak.

Arkady's Wish is to help the FreakAngels save and protect the people of Britain from outside forces while they rebuild their country. To this end, she is prepared to graduate as many Inmates as she can. Her Wardening style will likely be equal parts wise-woman, best friend, Tinkerbell and Jimminy Cricket, with a lot of popping in and out and possibly a bit of psychic monitoring. ("Oh noes, you're all sad! What's wrong?") She will negotiate boundaries with the Inmate so as to get through to them without seeming invasive, but no force in the multiverse can stop her from being a playful little weirdie about it.

How exactly she will Warden depends in part upon who she is connected to. As a psychic sensitive she will be driven to tailor her approach heavily. A psychic would receive lessons while being taught the necessity of ethics through intensive psychic-link sessions. Those looking for an advantage or angle on the Barge will find themselves with a helpful teleporter and psychic at their disposal...but one who does things on her terms and will always guide him or her back towards a gentler and less antisocial path. A particularly violent or sociopathic Inmate might be forced to relive the experiences of victims similar to his, especially if he needs to be incapacitated. Coffee addicts will get a Coffee Fairy. Those missing their loved ones will get assistance in "checking up" on them. Arkady's psychic abilities and innate wisdom give her a wide variety of carrots and sticks to use on her Inmate while remaining essentially a biffie and relatively gentle guide.

Her perception of Redemption is simply this: a person can be fierce, selfish, even rather mad, and still be redeemed if they learn to function as part of their community without doing more harm than the average person. What can be fixed in a person should be fixed, to help them function and be happy, but a lot of redemption, to her, is learning to live with oneself and the world. She has discovered that often, as is the case with two of her fellow Freakangels, wickedness is a direct result of inner sickness, pain and fear. At the heart, therefore, she sees her Warden's purpose first as healer, and second as guide.

Arkady will desperately miss the other FreakAngels, but is determined to see through her stay on the Barge. She will be psychically lonely, and will seek out other minds to connect with. She is likely to either gather a menagerie for company and to send messages, or possibly simply befriend every pet on the Barge. Regular meditation, socializing and imbibing of alcohol are all seen as equally important to her psychonaut practice, so there will be a lot of that. Mostly, though, her life will center around her Inmate and any ongoing problems on the Barge.

Twenty-three years ago, twelve pale, purple-eyed children were all born at the same moment in a flat little village in England. Arkady, who would become the most powerful of them, was born to a pair of extremely stoned hippies; when asked to name her new child her mother declared, "Ah! A child of Arcadia!".

Linked mentally as well as by fate, this strange clan of kids lived a relatively normal life until around age fifteen, attending school, growing up, experimenting with sex and drugs and generally heading toward a disaffected youth similar to many kids their age. Arkady was the most interested in their powers, experimenting with drugs as entheogens. This led to her literally dying of an overdose when she was fifteen. But the FreakAngels, as they would eventually learn, do not die; instead, their bodies repair themselves, while their minds experience intense visions and an "upgrade" of their psychic abilities. Though the "upgrade" helped Arkady considerably later on, the experience was so terrifying that she never touched hard drugs again.

All the FreakAngels were very close, which was what held them together when their parents capitulated to the government and surrendered custody. The FreakAngels were packed off to a government facility for experimentation, an experience none of them talk about. At seventeen, they escaped and went on the run together. The army was called out to hunt them down, resulting in several psychically-fueled skirmishes that killed many soldiers and left the FreakAngels desperate and exhausted. Finally, Arkady brought up the fact that if all twelve of them linked minds and powers, they would be exponentially more powerful and would be able to "do something" to stop the military for good.

Unfortunately, these scared teenagers chose to lash out without thought of the consequences, making "a hole in the world" which caused massive earthquakes, subsidences and flooding througout Britain and, possibly, the world. The "hole" also seemed to alter spacetime to some degree, although that is only touched on in the books. London flooded with twenty feet of water, and its various patches of high ground became islands with the Thames in between. Britain's infrastructure was completely wrecked, its government and economy collapsed, and the population descended into anarchy.

Filled with remorse, the FreakAngels settled on one of the islands--Whitechapel--and after kicking out the rape-camp gang running the place, started helping the survivors rebuild. By the opening of the comic, six years later, Whitechapel is a stable community with water purification, law enforcement, a 24-hour watch for raiders, a medical clinic and a psychotherapist available, courtesy of the FreakAngels. Each one has a different job in the community, from head of the gardens, to chief salvager and two inventors/engineers. Arkady's "job" is to explore what the FreakAngels call "the package"--their genetic inheritance of powers and abilities--a role which becomes more crucial after two of their members become renegades and endanger the entire community.

The entire story of the Freakangels' life in Whitechapel is here: It is entirely online, and if you enjoy modern Western comics it is almost guaranteed to suck you in.

Arkady was contacted by the Admiral when it was discovered that outside military forces were converging on Whitechapel to investigate the area. Arkady agreed to come to the Barge, provided that she would return with a way of protecting Britain's shattered people from an outside conquest.

Sample Journal Entry: [5-10 Sentences]
[Have a spritely young bald woman in filmy clothes, perching on a scratched wooden desk and beaming at you.]

Hullo everybody! I'm Arkady, and I'm from the Island of Whitechapel. Of course, for most of you Whitechapel isn't an island, but we had a little problem with the Thames getting loose from its banks, and ever since then things have been a bit wet in London. Whitechapel has about twice as many people as this place, and we just took on a hundred more. We'll make do, though. We just need to pull together. [It's not clear whether she's speaking of Whitechapel or the Barge. Both maybe?]

I'll be up on Deck in the gardens if anyone wants to say hello! Yay flowers!

Sample RP: Arkady appeared suddenly by the shark tank and peered inside. "Hello Mr. Fishy!" She reached out for his mind, which was cool and sleek and predatory, with absolutely no wasted energy. Basically just a directional system for an appetite, but weirdly calming all the same. Even if it left her desperately in need of a snack...

Next she appeared in the lunch line, which caused a few shrieks. "Oh, sorry sorry!" she quickly caught the one dropped tray and handed it back to its owner. "Do they have cookies today?" she asked the stunned woman. She often forgot to eat, but the sharkie had reminded her, so now she wanted all the fruit and all the cookies. No meat. Sometimes when she tried to eat a hamburger, for example, she heard it go moo.

Back to Deck 5, where she noticed an Inmate locked out of his room and pounding in frustration on the door. She distracted him with a cookie and, after getting permission, popped inside for his keys. He had a noose hanging from the ceiling, and she took a moment to weaken the support rope before popping out to give him the keys. Her eyes were wide and innocent as she met his, and she mentioned nothing.

Half an hour later on the nose, she came by, pressed her ear to the door, and heard a creak, a thump, and swearing. Beaming, she turned around and disappeared again.

Finally, up on deck, where she went down on hands and knees to inspect what looked like every flower of the colour garden. "Lovely, lovely, these plants are such showoffs! Do you play music, little flower? But not for me. I wonder if someone will let me borrow their perceptions so I can hear the music too..."

Special Notes: According to FreakAngels canon, telepaths can be blocked from reading minds, and can be partially "tuned out" when they try to communicate, by wearing a tinfoil hat.


can_has_vodka: (Default)

March 2013



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