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kyouyasangels_incWho would’ve guessed carrying around the box would be so heavy? Then again, Kara hadn’t planned to be still lugging it around, but when summoned to the CIC she knows she can’t reply, “Sure, be there in a sec after I drop off all these dildos and buttplugs” (and yes, she absolutely considered it), and a detour would’ve taken too long. No doubt it would’ve pissed off the old man.
So, she has no choice but to carry them around, the box full of every color toy imaginable of varying shapes, sizes, and uses. Vibrators and strap-ons scattered throughout added to the lovely aesthetic of it all. She’d just added the latest purchase, an addition she was particularly looking forward to trying. It had captured her attention the first time she’d seen it, and after a little careful research she had very quickly decided it was to be her next.
Well, technically his next, but he doesn’t yet know that.
Yet.
When Kara saunters into the CIC, more than one pair of eyes turn her way, eyeing the package. No doubt questioning whether it’s some kind of Cylon device to be examined. Adama looks ready to say something but he doesn’t, only watching in silence as she makes her way over.
But then--
Then Kara’s unerring grace (right…) fails her and she trips over a forgotten incline in the floor. She watches almost in slow motion as the box goes flying out of her arms, which shoot out to break her own fall. The top pops open, as she knew it would (why the frak hadn’t she taped it -- probably because she hadn’t cared that much, truthfully), and out spills every single silicone object within. Purple, pink, green, fleshy -- they all litter the floor with the stark contrast against the gray metal -- but Kara reaches for the newest purchase first, the precious cargo that must be salvaged at all costs, before she begins picking up the others.
Everyone stares in horror, fascination, and with some, even amusement. Tigh looks particularly traumatized, and Adama looks...well, Kara’s not quite sure how she’s supposed to interpret that expression. So she does the only thing she can think of as she throws one after another back into the box.
“Thought this place could use a little interior decorating.”
So, she has no choice but to carry them around, the box full of every color toy imaginable of varying shapes, sizes, and uses. Vibrators and strap-ons scattered throughout added to the lovely aesthetic of it all. She’d just added the latest purchase, an addition she was particularly looking forward to trying. It had captured her attention the first time she’d seen it, and after a little careful research she had very quickly decided it was to be her next.
Well, technically his next, but he doesn’t yet know that.
Yet.
When Kara saunters into the CIC, more than one pair of eyes turn her way, eyeing the package. No doubt questioning whether it’s some kind of Cylon device to be examined. Adama looks ready to say something but he doesn’t, only watching in silence as she makes her way over.
But then--
Then Kara’s unerring grace (right…) fails her and she trips over a forgotten incline in the floor. She watches almost in slow motion as the box goes flying out of her arms, which shoot out to break her own fall. The top pops open, as she knew it would (why the frak hadn’t she taped it -- probably because she hadn’t cared that much, truthfully), and out spills every single silicone object within. Purple, pink, green, fleshy -- they all litter the floor with the stark contrast against the gray metal -- but Kara reaches for the newest purchase first, the precious cargo that must be salvaged at all costs, before she begins picking up the others.
Everyone stares in horror, fascination, and with some, even amusement. Tigh looks particularly traumatized, and Adama looks...well, Kara’s not quite sure how she’s supposed to interpret that expression. So she does the only thing she can think of as she throws one after another back into the box.
“Thought this place could use a little interior decorating.”
(no subject)
23/8/15 07:13 (UTC)Speaking of struggle, Wolfwood bounces down on the balls of his feet, voice a low groan that buzzes through them, his fingers tight around her. He takes it inch by inch, and then, then-- he slams down hard, only to rise up with a tremble and a pivot, again and again he does this until he's breathless, until his voice is robbed from him. Honeyed eyes squeeze shut as his mouth slants.