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Mar. 14th, 2010 11:36 am
6.28. I know that we'll have a ball
If we get down and go out and just lose it all
I feel stressed out, I wanna let it go
Let's go way out spaced out and losing all control
I Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas
Co-written with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shoothetarget
Fox had left Wesley back at their apartment while he whined about his sausage-less McMuffin. She hadn't wanted to put up with his pouting face on the drive to Fort Sam, even if he had helped her get the address out from the hotel people. Sometimes Wesley really did need a good smacking around, but she didn't have time. She wanted to find Rob as quickly as possible. She was wearing a white dress similar to the one she'd worn when she'd met Wesley the first time, her hair only partially pulled back. She slammed her heels down on the gas pedal of her classic Ford Mustang. The restored car one of the first things she bought after opening the tattoo parlour. When she had been in the Fraternity, they had taken pride in stealing whatever cars they needed, but Fox had to admit there was something nice about knowing it was hers.
( The silver painted vehicle sped towards the army base, and she actually had to admit there were some nerves kicking into play... )
Word Count | 8,062
If we get down and go out and just lose it all
I feel stressed out, I wanna let it go
Let's go way out spaced out and losing all control
I Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas
Co-written with
shoothetargetFox had left Wesley back at their apartment while he whined about his sausage-less McMuffin. She hadn't wanted to put up with his pouting face on the drive to Fort Sam, even if he had helped her get the address out from the hotel people. Sometimes Wesley really did need a good smacking around, but she didn't have time. She wanted to find Rob as quickly as possible. She was wearing a white dress similar to the one she'd worn when she'd met Wesley the first time, her hair only partially pulled back. She slammed her heels down on the gas pedal of her classic Ford Mustang. The restored car one of the first things she bought after opening the tattoo parlour. When she had been in the Fraternity, they had taken pride in stealing whatever cars they needed, but Fox had to admit there was something nice about knowing it was hers.
( The silver painted vehicle sped towards the army base, and she actually had to admit there were some nerves kicking into play... )
Word Count | 8,062
[Follows THIS]
Rob really was trying not to be bummed. The booze up in Houston had turned out to be so, so much more and in a way, his mind was reeling from it. It was like going cold turkey from smoking. So long without sex or any sort of female companionship since Ellie fucked him over on the race, and then three days of complete sparking sexual energy with Fox. It was like he had an orgasm hangover. His head was hurting and he had a strange feeling in his gut. Only, he just wasn't sure if he was feeling off-colour or if it was regret. She had never asked for his number, or any of his details, really. Not even his rank in the Army. He had no choice but to take that as an indication that she didn't want to know, and that their time together in Houston was just that. Not quite a one night stand, more, but not anything beyond that. He had never intended to find a woman in Houston that got under his skin. He knew there was a possibility he might find someone to have a one night stand with. Getting drunk had been on the menu, but he had also had intentions to try and get laid, if he could. A year without was ridiculous. He needed to know he was still alive in that sense. Fox had proved that to him ten-fold, but now he was left feeling like maybe he shouldn't have played so much with fire.
( Now on the bus back to Houston, which their bunch had hired because they knew a lot of them wouldn't be in any condition to drive back to to the brig after a good few days on the piss. Rob was still feeling the aftermath of getting stupidly drunk, but the second night with Fox in his room helped ease most of that... )
Word Count | 4,220
Rob really was trying not to be bummed. The booze up in Houston had turned out to be so, so much more and in a way, his mind was reeling from it. It was like going cold turkey from smoking. So long without sex or any sort of female companionship since Ellie fucked him over on the race, and then three days of complete sparking sexual energy with Fox. It was like he had an orgasm hangover. His head was hurting and he had a strange feeling in his gut. Only, he just wasn't sure if he was feeling off-colour or if it was regret. She had never asked for his number, or any of his details, really. Not even his rank in the Army. He had no choice but to take that as an indication that she didn't want to know, and that their time together in Houston was just that. Not quite a one night stand, more, but not anything beyond that. He had never intended to find a woman in Houston that got under his skin. He knew there was a possibility he might find someone to have a one night stand with. Getting drunk had been on the menu, but he had also had intentions to try and get laid, if he could. A year without was ridiculous. He needed to know he was still alive in that sense. Fox had proved that to him ten-fold, but now he was left feeling like maybe he shouldn't have played so much with fire.
( Now on the bus back to Houston, which their bunch had hired because they knew a lot of them wouldn't be in any condition to drive back to to the brig after a good few days on the piss. Rob was still feeling the aftermath of getting stupidly drunk, but the second night with Fox in his room helped ease most of that... )
Word Count | 4,220
Rob rarely had the luxury of sticking in one place long enough to feel completely settled. Whether he was back home in Little Rock or on the barracks or shipped out, his feet didn't stick in one place too long... or at least, they hadn't in the last few years. But when he woke up prone on some bed with his head smashed into some pillow, he just had a sense he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He peeled his face out of the creased pillow, raising up just a little with a deep-set frown on his features. He squinted against the bright light, trying to take in his surroundings, but it was an effort. His head was pounding and his stomach churning uncomfortably. He grunted from the exertion of just lifting his head and managed to roll over and sprawl messily on his back.
He didn’t remember the ceiling of the barracks being that colour.
Come to think of it, the beds in the barracks were never this soft, either. He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling day old stubble scratch under his palm. He turned his head to try and catch the time on the clock beside his bed, but there was no clock either. Some random images from his encounter with Fox at the pool, and then again at her tattoo parlour jolted through his hung over brain and he forced himself up into a sitting position. He realised that was probably a mistake when the room felt like it dipped around him and his nose and forehead scrunched up in response to the sensory insult. “Ungh…” was all he could form verbally and not at all eloquently.
( It was only then that he realised two things simultaneously... )
Word Count | 6,223
He didn’t remember the ceiling of the barracks being that colour.
Come to think of it, the beds in the barracks were never this soft, either. He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling day old stubble scratch under his palm. He turned his head to try and catch the time on the clock beside his bed, but there was no clock either. Some random images from his encounter with Fox at the pool, and then again at her tattoo parlour jolted through his hung over brain and he forced himself up into a sitting position. He realised that was probably a mistake when the room felt like it dipped around him and his nose and forehead scrunched up in response to the sensory insult. “Ungh…” was all he could form verbally and not at all eloquently.
( It was only then that he realised two things simultaneously... )
Word Count | 6,223
RP LOG #2 with shoothetarget | Branded
Feb. 22nd, 2010 12:14 amRob approached the tattoo parlour and hesitated on the sidewalk. As soon as he reached the door, he turned around and nearly went back in the direction he came. But with his hands shoved in his pockets, he gave himself a mental slap, and cleared his throat as he pushed through the parlour's door. He was in Houston for another couple of nights with all his mates from his unit. The whole purpose of getting off the brig and out on the town was to live it up a little after the posting, and Rob was pretty sure he had well done that. He couldn't get that night with Fox out of his head and he was really relieved he hadn't actually had a lot of booze before he found her in the bar. He had recollections of every single moment with her, and even more now he had the second encounter with her at the pool. But that was it. It was one night only, but he had been restless ever since. Restless and horny. Jerking off gave him no satisfaction after the awesome sex, and now he was left wondering if none had been a better option. He hadn't had anything to really miss then. Now he was left hot and bothered, and it hadn't even passed his mind to try and get her number. He had no fucking idea why he didn't. He was just so distracted and caught up. He would be lying if he didn't admit to regretting that tiny omission now.
Instead, he needed some other outlet for his still buzzing energy and adrenaline. The good hard fuck with Fox hadn't diluted that, it just seemed to fuel it and left him wanting more. He had passed the tattoo parlour the first night he was here, taking in it's presence distractedly as he walked in the large group with his pals towards the heaving bar up the street. His brain must have logged the notion away somewhere because after talking about tattoos with Fox the morning before, and basically getting a raging boner from examining her ink work, he thought a little pain through another tattoo of his own might be the answer. And maybe he would even get an image of a fox, just to mark the occasion...
( With a small nod of resolve to himself, he went into the tattoo place, letting a wave of impulsiveness make the decision for him... )
Word Count | 3,889
Instead, he needed some other outlet for his still buzzing energy and adrenaline. The good hard fuck with Fox hadn't diluted that, it just seemed to fuel it and left him wanting more. He had passed the tattoo parlour the first night he was here, taking in it's presence distractedly as he walked in the large group with his pals towards the heaving bar up the street. His brain must have logged the notion away somewhere because after talking about tattoos with Fox the morning before, and basically getting a raging boner from examining her ink work, he thought a little pain through another tattoo of his own might be the answer. And maybe he would even get an image of a fox, just to mark the occasion...
( With a small nod of resolve to himself, he went into the tattoo place, letting a wave of impulsiveness make the decision for him... )
Word Count | 3,889
[First scene of Rob/Fox's new verse]
There were some benefits to Fox's restlessness. Occasionally she came across a spot she enjoyed, and the hotel's pool was one of them. It wasn't the same kind of adrenaline kick that she had been used to with the Fraternity of Assassins, but it was still something that gave her a sense of pleasure. In some ways the encounter with Rob had forced her to slow down, and it wasn't such a bad thing. Hot, sweaty, rough sex all night followed by a dip in the pool... Fox could get used to it. Wesley was the last person she'd had a good tumble with, but it was mostly due to her lack of ability to trust anyone with a dick to satisfy her. Not until she knew for sure they'd handle her.
She still didn't quite understand what it was about Rob that had made her think he would be able to handle her, but she was glad she'd finally taken a chance. She was still adjusting to her new life. Their new life. She and Wesley were the only surviving members and now they just tried to be as normal as two ex assassins could be.
Kill one, save a thousand.
It wasn't the same without the Fraternity, or the Code. She had no code anymore, and maybe that was the hardest adjustment. She had only her instincts and her own judgment, and considering she had never seen Sloan's betrayal coming, she really had to wonder just how good they were anymore. At least they'd been right about Wesley, even if she had been sent to kill him. She was glad she hadn't succeeded. She needed him, just not in any kind of romantic way. They worked on a platonic soul mate level, and the sex really was fucking hot, but if a relationship was ever to happen they really would kill each other. Instead she'd just hunted him down to Texas, not wanting to let Gibson out of her sight.
( But that guy last night? He'd been like Wesley, but more... )
Word Count | 5,443
There were some benefits to Fox's restlessness. Occasionally she came across a spot she enjoyed, and the hotel's pool was one of them. It wasn't the same kind of adrenaline kick that she had been used to with the Fraternity of Assassins, but it was still something that gave her a sense of pleasure. In some ways the encounter with Rob had forced her to slow down, and it wasn't such a bad thing. Hot, sweaty, rough sex all night followed by a dip in the pool... Fox could get used to it. Wesley was the last person she'd had a good tumble with, but it was mostly due to her lack of ability to trust anyone with a dick to satisfy her. Not until she knew for sure they'd handle her.
She still didn't quite understand what it was about Rob that had made her think he would be able to handle her, but she was glad she'd finally taken a chance. She was still adjusting to her new life. Their new life. She and Wesley were the only surviving members and now they just tried to be as normal as two ex assassins could be.
Kill one, save a thousand.
It wasn't the same without the Fraternity, or the Code. She had no code anymore, and maybe that was the hardest adjustment. She had only her instincts and her own judgment, and considering she had never seen Sloan's betrayal coming, she really had to wonder just how good they were anymore. At least they'd been right about Wesley, even if she had been sent to kill him. She was glad she hadn't succeeded. She needed him, just not in any kind of romantic way. They worked on a platonic soul mate level, and the sex really was fucking hot, but if a relationship was ever to happen they really would kill each other. Instead she'd just hunted him down to Texas, not wanting to let Gibson out of her sight.
( But that guy last night? He'd been like Wesley, but more... )
Word Count | 5,443
OOC | State of the Muse
Feb. 21st, 2010 11:23 pmAfter some long deliberation, chats, and meeting of minds with my parter in crime, Rob is about to undergo a verse-split. It has probably been a long time coming, with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
etrelibre_rpg dying down and myself and Fox mun completely and utterly missing writing the Rob/Fox dynamic together.
[verse] the little things (rob/fox)
Which is why we are plucking them out of the RPG setting and dumping them into a verse all of their own in their journals and creating a new verse: [verse] the little things, named from the Danny Elfman song of the same title, which features in Fox's canon, the movie Wanted. More detailed info on this new verse can be found on Rob's profile. Within this verse, he will be linked to Wanted muses, Fox [shoothetarget] and Wesley Gibson [shuthefckup]. He is also linked to muse Charlie Avery [nevergonnamiss], who is an OC but loosely based in Rob's Drive fandom. Charlie and Rob trained together in their early Army days together, having a friends with benefits fling over the time, and have no come back together as mates with Rob being transferred to Fort Sam in Texas following the small handful of canon events under his belt.
[verse] main (rob/leila)
This will still remain as Rob's main verse, where he is married to Leila Jackson [doesntwaltz] and lives in New York City, currently on a medical leave of absence from service after being blown up by an IED in Afghanistan. Currently in this verse, Rob his contemplating his life after nearly losing it and about to set off on a road trip with Leila in his beloved Firebird to try and recuperate, mind body and soul, after his accident.
For more infor on both verse, see Rob's profile, or see the profiles of the muses he is linked to in both verses.
etrelibre_rpg dying down and myself and Fox mun completely and utterly missing writing the Rob/Fox dynamic together. [verse] the little things (rob/fox)
Which is why we are plucking them out of the RPG setting and dumping them into a verse all of their own in their journals and creating a new verse: [verse] the little things, named from the Danny Elfman song of the same title, which features in Fox's canon, the movie Wanted. More detailed info on this new verse can be found on Rob's profile. Within this verse, he will be linked to Wanted muses, Fox [
shoothetarget] and Wesley Gibson [shuthefckup]. He is also linked to muse Charlie Avery [nevergonnamiss], who is an OC but loosely based in Rob's Drive fandom. Charlie and Rob trained together in their early Army days together, having a friends with benefits fling over the time, and have no come back together as mates with Rob being transferred to Fort Sam in Texas following the small handful of canon events under his belt. [verse] main (rob/leila)
This will still remain as Rob's main verse, where he is married to Leila Jackson [
doesntwaltz] and lives in New York City, currently on a medical leave of absence from service after being blown up by an IED in Afghanistan. Currently in this verse, Rob his contemplating his life after nearly losing it and about to set off on a road trip with Leila in his beloved Firebird to try and recuperate, mind body and soul, after his accident. For more infor on both verse, see Rob's profile, or see the profiles of the muses he is linked to in both verses.
musesandlyrics | 5.1. H.G. Wells quote
Jan. 14th, 2010 06:40 pm5.1. "Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo."
H. G. Wells
Co-written withdoesntwaltz & notskywalker
It was a weeknight, so The Bondi wasn't very busy except for a steady trickle of musicians coming into jam with others, and a few people having some casual drinks after work. Luke was up in New York for a few days to get the paperwork done, so while he wasn't technically working, he was there behind the bar because he couldn't help himself. Leila technically was on shift, but she didn't actually need to be there because there was plenty of staff to cover the patrons. She had come, though, and brought Rob along with her, mostly so she could catch up with Luke for a little while. After chatting on and off about their Part Three's issues with not getting any newlywed sex, Luke paused in his polishing of a tray of glasses and pointed with one to Rob who had struck up a conversation with a small bunch of sailors at one of the booths across the bar.
"Should I be worried about the quality of my booze? I've offered him freebies all night and he keeps sticking to orange juice. Saving his mojo to pound you into the mattress later?" he asked in amusement, shaking his small towel out and putting the clean glass into the tray. "You know what they say, a guy's cock stops working properly when he's pissed."
"Is that what say?" Leila asked as she smirked at him. "I could have sworn it was more like a guy's cock doesn't get a chance to start working once he's passed out. You experienced some issues with the wife?" She leaned on the bar, and watched Rob. Her expression shifted as her eyebrows drew together. "He went out on the piss with Mike. Needed to get hammered after his appointment with some blokes on the base. The ones that decide if he's fit enough to go back to duty, or not."
( Luke watched the military posse for a few moments and then shot Leila a wry look... )
Word Count | 3,530
H. G. Wells
Co-written with
doesntwaltz & notskywalkerIt was a weeknight, so The Bondi wasn't very busy except for a steady trickle of musicians coming into jam with others, and a few people having some casual drinks after work. Luke was up in New York for a few days to get the paperwork done, so while he wasn't technically working, he was there behind the bar because he couldn't help himself. Leila technically was on shift, but she didn't actually need to be there because there was plenty of staff to cover the patrons. She had come, though, and brought Rob along with her, mostly so she could catch up with Luke for a little while. After chatting on and off about their Part Three's issues with not getting any newlywed sex, Luke paused in his polishing of a tray of glasses and pointed with one to Rob who had struck up a conversation with a small bunch of sailors at one of the booths across the bar.
"Should I be worried about the quality of my booze? I've offered him freebies all night and he keeps sticking to orange juice. Saving his mojo to pound you into the mattress later?" he asked in amusement, shaking his small towel out and putting the clean glass into the tray. "You know what they say, a guy's cock stops working properly when he's pissed."
"Is that what say?" Leila asked as she smirked at him. "I could have sworn it was more like a guy's cock doesn't get a chance to start working once he's passed out. You experienced some issues with the wife?" She leaned on the bar, and watched Rob. Her expression shifted as her eyebrows drew together. "He went out on the piss with Mike. Needed to get hammered after his appointment with some blokes on the base. The ones that decide if he's fit enough to go back to duty, or not."
( Luke watched the military posse for a few moments and then shot Leila a wry look... )
Word Count | 3,530
With a68whiskey | Part Two
Jan. 12th, 2010 05:19 pm[Follows THIS]
By the time Rob and Mike made it the few blocks home, the bottle of scotch was gone. Mike threw caution to the wind and decided to share it with his friend, and when they made it to the front of the apartment block, they were both singing, arms around each other and really not making all that much sense at all. It was a miracle Rob was even still conscious, with Mike managing to hold onto his masculinity just a little bit better and not break into matching giggling fits. Luckily, he was still coordinated enough to prevent Rob tripping into a lamp post and knocking himself out, too, but it was an effort to peel him back up off the side walk when he stumbled anyway. Somewhere also in the whole process, Rob had left a drunken and lewd message on Leila's voicemail followed by a string of text messages which probably just looked like Hieroglyphics. At least he could manage to type the words 'Love', 'Dick' and 'Fuck' clearly. As far as his pissed brain was concerned, he was writing her romantic poetry.
( They reached their destination, and halted in front of the entry of the block. Mike was holding Rob up and trying to simultaneously dig Rob's keys from the pocket of his jeans, not having much luck the way Rob was swaying and continuously losing his footing... )
Word Count | 846
By the time Rob and Mike made it the few blocks home, the bottle of scotch was gone. Mike threw caution to the wind and decided to share it with his friend, and when they made it to the front of the apartment block, they were both singing, arms around each other and really not making all that much sense at all. It was a miracle Rob was even still conscious, with Mike managing to hold onto his masculinity just a little bit better and not break into matching giggling fits. Luckily, he was still coordinated enough to prevent Rob tripping into a lamp post and knocking himself out, too, but it was an effort to peel him back up off the side walk when he stumbled anyway. Somewhere also in the whole process, Rob had left a drunken and lewd message on Leila's voicemail followed by a string of text messages which probably just looked like Hieroglyphics. At least he could manage to type the words 'Love', 'Dick' and 'Fuck' clearly. As far as his pissed brain was concerned, he was writing her romantic poetry.
( They reached their destination, and halted in front of the entry of the block. Mike was holding Rob up and trying to simultaneously dig Rob's keys from the pocket of his jeans, not having much luck the way Rob was swaying and continuously losing his footing... )
Word Count | 846
