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  • Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: Practicing Optimist
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
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    1. ClosetMonster 12 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

7 yrs ago
Current "Bother. Isn't there anybody at all?" "Nobody!"
7 yrs ago
Trying on shoes and going for a walkabout - will return to closet when I'm good and ready!
3 likes
8 yrs ago
Fell into the abyss of Closet... digging out from under all of the shoes.
2 likes
10 yrs ago
Time is mine for a full month! :) Yay!!!
1 like

Bio

A long time player, I have been co-writing (aka "role playing") for "ae long tahm". I have a fairly involved career which some years can be nigh all encompassing for months and months at a time. However, I always seem to return for the sheer delight of creating alongside another imaginative individual.

Most Recent Posts

The tall blond's mouth quirked in humor while beside him, the boy with the red and green and purple hair crinkled his nose in empathy. “Bad mood. I'm Venti, this is my brother, Harper. Here, give him our card,” he jogged the taller, older man with his elbow.

Harper drew out a card which he held across. It was plain white with black lettering. The first letter, a T, was in block with some filigree on it, but everything else was basic font.

Tres Protection Co.
Harper P. Daela
Computer Systems/Records Investigation
(xxx) 777-5348 xt. 10


“A Mrs. Parks has arranged for our services,” Harper stated in a bland manner as he looked the man over again. Their James Parks was a bit green around the gills and still standing. Amel would approve, naturally.

“Something about you being shot at,” Venti lifted a brow. “I'm not on the card. That's Harper's card. I've got my own. We got three of us, so we've arranged with Mrs. P arks that you'll have twenty four hour care. That includes me. I get the mornings, because everyone hates a morning person and I don't mind pissing people off. Harper is our nights guy, since that's when he does most of his work, and Amel will cover you during the afternoon and evening. He's our third. Your mom seems like a really nice lady,” he added and stuffed his hands between his knees.

“However, I find it interesting that you didn't file a police report,” Harper added. “You were shot at, correct?”

~~

James didn't blink as rainbow teen smart mouthed. Was he in a bad mood? Possibly. He had been confined to his bed after being shot at. Stuck with nothing to take his mind off the case nor the past. At least he was getting names. Rainbow Teen was Venti, an odd name. Blondie was Harper, which was a girl's name in James' book. However he refrained from pointing that out as he took the business card that was offered to him. At this point he had loosened his hold on the gun, but didn't release it yet.

Tres Protection Company. James had never heard of it. It would have to be a family thing. In his nearly a year of being a P.I. he had run across a few companies either as a hire or investigator. This wasn't one of them.

James at first didn't register what the Blonde, no Harper said. He was moving forwards mentally on the assumption they were going to hire him for something. He placed the card down on the table and listened as Rainbow Teen rambled off. He stopped listening when the teen said his mother's name again. Parks. Mrs. Parks. There were only a few Parks in the area and somehow James knew that this one in question was his mother since his sister was now Mrs Brown.

"My mom hired you?" James ignored Harper talking about the police report. He did in fact file one, it should have been on record along with the fact he had called the police. It should all be public record. "You work for Darien Parks?"

He didn't wait for a confirmation. James shoved the gun away and pulled out his cell phone in anger. He yanked open another drawer and pulled out a small memo pad. "That meddling old hag." He muttered to himself as he jabbed in a number from the pad and lifted the phone to his ear before tossing the pad away into the trash. How dare she keep trying to run his life. He had gotten away from that eight years ago when he ran off to the Army, he wasn't going to let her start up again.

~~

Venti sniffed and watched as the detective went all focused as realization of Mom and Mrs. Parks became synonymous. Rather than continue talking, Venti reached over and touched the back of Harper's hand and the two went very still.

Harper pulled out a smart phone and withdrew a stylus from his front pocket. Using this, he began to work through some various problems which were Harper specific. Generally it was better to not ask about what exactly he was doing, either for legal purposes or simply because it could lead to a long, rambling, and rather boring explanation of something far beyond anyone else's ability to follow.

Venti, on the other hand, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. He had large eyes for someone as old as he was and the result was that he looked a good three years younger than his age. Then again, being underestimated had gotten him places he wasn't sure he could have gotten otherwise. He wasn't sure he wanted this man to underestimate him, however. James Parks looked capable and strong and knowledgeable and stubborn. In fact, he looked very stubborn. It was lucky that there wasn't a single one of the Daela boys who wasn't as dumb as a rock when it came to giving up.

Then again, there was a definite chance that James Parks could be even more bull headed. Venti wriggled slightly in his chair and swallowed a grin of glee. Oh. This was going to be fun. He couldn't wait for their work to begin.

But then, Venti liked the stubborn ones. Harper would get quiet and refuse to talk and Amel? Venti made a silent note to himself to beef up the weight room, remove the mirrors. Amel was due for a rampage if this Parks fellow didn't let them do their job. It would only be a matter of time.

~~

James' phone rang and rang in his ear. He was about to give up when a cool voice came over the speaker.

"James." The older woman's voice spake neutrally.

"You hired body guards? Guards. As in Plural. What were you thinking?" James snapped angrily into the phone. "Why did you even hire them? I can do my job myself thank you very much." Over the phone James could hear his mother take a deep breath and found it flamed his anger even more. She was going to use her 'rational' voice. Like he couldn't live his own life. He was twenty-seven, not an infant.

"Your sister told me what happened. Heavens knows you've been shot at enough while overseas. Do you really need to keep getting yourself shot at?"

"I can take care of myself." James gritted out. He had to concentrate on not throwing the phone across the room or smashing it. "Stay out of my life." James hung up before she could say anything else. He shoved his phone away and turned back to the two bodyguards. This situation was too unbelievable.

"Are you going to go away if I tell you to?" James asked them, trying to ignore smirking rainbow head. His leg was beginning to throb a little, so he had to shift positions, but not yet. Not in front of these two. Even if they had been hired by his mother, didn't mean he trusted them. In fact, his mother's main goal may be to have them spy on him for her. It wouldn't be the first time. No, that was about a year after he left home, he discovered his mother contacted one of his squad mates and paid him to report to her. It still made him angry, even if he had made up with his friend.

~~

Venti tilted his head. Beside him, Harper gave a mirthless smile. “No,” he stated as he stood. “And at that, I shall leave you to it.” He turned to stare at Venti but the boy was merely staring at James.

With a slight shake of his head, Harper gave a shrug to the P.I., reached out and touched the boy's shoulder, and murmured, “Amel will be here at three.”

“And you'll be at his place by midnight. Cool-io!” Venti smiled at James and did not turn to watch his brother leave.

When Harper closed the door, Venti drew a foot up onto his chair and looped his arms around his knees. “So,” he said pleasantly, “I can just stand around and watch, or you can give me a job. I know enough Word Processing to be a menace and I can file if I need to. And I make a mean cup of coffee.” His mouth curved into a friendly grin and eyes dancing, he sat back comfortably and waited for how his new P.I. client was going to act.

~~
James laid down the case file on his desk. Inside the file was the week old case of David Vale, father of his client Gwen Vale, and Kara Smith. He exhaled loudly and closed his black eyes as he rubbed them. His right leg he had propped up on the spare chair twinged. The Private Investigator opened one eye to glare at the offending leg. The knee wasn't good anymore. Most of the time it was fine, as long as he didn't run, jump, or twist it. James grimaced as he recalled just what had happened to hand him back in a brace and crutches.
Three Days Ago
James looked down at the address that had been scrawled on a bar napkin. The previous night he had been to Zero's, a local bar that was a popular hang out for a man named Avery Dale Higgins. Avery was an older man, about in his late thirties. He was an average looking man, brown hair, eyes, a little tan. Avery's vice was that he like to drink. And drink he did. A lot. Mainly at Zero's where he often meet with Kara.

James had been following Kara since six days ago when he first accepted Gwen's case. Gwen had come to him, sure that her father was being swindled out of his fortune. Gwen had told him that she suspected her father's new fiance, Kara Smith. Gwen said her father had jumped into Kara's bed only days after his nasty divorce from his last wife Nikky. Gwen asserted that her father had been distraught and Kara was taking advantage of him. James had agreed to look into on that basis. It wasn't often a twenty seven year old went after a seventy eight year old man. Being twenty seven himself James couldn't understand falling in love with anyone that old.

So there he was, sitting in his truck in the morning sun outside of a shabby apartment complex on the north-side of town. James pressed his lips together as he double checked the address. He reached over to the glove box but hesitated. Inside the glove box was a small handgun, a Ruger. He hesitated to bring it out. He wavered over it before withdrawing his hand and leaving the gun where it was.

James popped open the truck's door and stepped out into the sun. It was a warm morning and it promised to be an even warmer day. Having been born and raised here, James like the heat and it didn't bother him. However he was still dressed in a short sleeved shirt that showed off his muscular physique. Just because he kept off his right leg didn't mean he would let himself get out of shape. He was military born and raised, even if he had been discharged.

James carefully walked up the stairs to the second floor. He had just walked past the first door when he heard a small sound that had him driving for the ground. James was a firm believer that you could leave the war but the war never left you. Indeed the small sound he heard had been someone flicking the safety off their gun. James rolled just in time to have the bullet pass harmlessly overhead. The ex-Army man rolled back onto his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg and turned to the door that he had just passed. It was now wide open. A man stood there with a gun pointed at James' chest.

"Don't shoot." James said raising his hands, cursing himself mentally that he didn't being his gun. That he had let his weakness get the better of him. "I'm not here to cause no harm."

The man with the gun didn't say anything but his stance did shift just a little. James having been on the business end of a weapon too many times knew what that mean and he lunged at the man, hoping to get the gun away before he was shot. If James hadn't been pinned in with nowhere to go, he probably would have run, but the only stairs were behind the gunman.

The gunman cursed as James tackled him to the ground. The gun went off, loud in James' ears, and for a long moment he wasn't home he was elsewhere. Then he got a boot in his face and he remembered just where he was. The gunman had gotten the gun away from James' hands and was preparing to shoot again. James punch the guy as hard as he could in the upper thigh, the closest area, and rolled off onto the stairs. A bullet ricocheted off the concrete floor and past James' body. James scrambled down the stairs as another two bullets came in his direction. By the time he was down the stairs the gunman was retreating. James could see other people coming out of their houses.

James sighed in relief as the door slammed shut. His right leg was hurting something fierce, and it was a chore just to get back to his truck. Once he was in he fished out his cell phone and called the cops to report what had just happened.


When all was said and done, the police had came, but that was no one in the apartment. No one at Avery's address either for that matter. James had been sent off to the hospital to get his leg looked at then sent home with firm orders to keep off his leg. James rolled his head backwards and stared at the ceiling. He exhaled heavily again, his mind whirring about the case. Apart from the shooting incident everything pointed towards Gwen's theory. Indeed, as far as James could tell Kara Smith was setting things up to swindle Mr. Vale. It also appeared Avery Higgins was helping her. However Kara wasn't happy about that as was perpetuated by the shouting matches between the two. If the shooting had never happened, James would have called it quits, but now, he wasn't sure. What else was going on and who didn't want him looking into it?

James didn't know how long he stared at the ceiling. He did know he probably would have budged if it wasn't for a knock at his office door.

"Come in." James hollered. "It's unlocked." He reached under his desk for his Ruger. He wasn't going without it now. He watched the door open with a carefully neutral face.

~~

The man behind the desk was watching Harper like a man looks at a snake behind glass. Standing just behind Harper, Venti could get a full look on the private detective as the man at the desk sent his discerning gaze at all of the important bits – waist, crotch, arm, ankle – first. Then he moved to secondary threats, Venti (who he dismissed rather quickly, Venti noticed, no doubt because Venti looked as dangerous as a kitten in the rain), then Harper's stance, his drawn back hair, his clothing. Venti knew what the other man saw. A tall, bookish looking fellow in a tweed jacket who, nevertheless held himself like someone with military training, being trailed by a kid who was probably a dancer or a runner or something athletic. Neither Harper nor Amel could fully dispel their non-verbal signs of training. But neither could Venti impress older men who had just narrowly escaped death, if Mrs. Parks was to be believed. They'd been more than willing to take on a job to set a mother's heart at ease, but mothers also were well known to be overprotective.

Then again, being shot was never a pleasant experience. Repeatedly shot at, even less so.

“You must be James,” Harper said in his smooth voice and ignored the tense set of the detective's shoulders as he pulled up a chair.

Venti quickly scooted into the chair beside, then leaned forward and stared at the man's leg. “She didn't say anything about you getting shot in the leg,” he let drop artlessly.

“I believe that there was some mention of an old war wound?” Harper tilted his head. Beside him, Venti grinned. It was fun to throw guys like this off balance. Just a little. They had a short window to impress on the other man how truly in danger he was and the game he and Harper played was usually enough to do the trick.

~~

James' black eyes narrowed as two men came through his door. They didn't immediately appear to be armed, but James hesitated to release his Ruger. They seemed normal, but that was no indicator. The first through the door was a younger man, probably still in his teens, with a rainbow for hair. He didn't dismiss the youngest because of the next man who walked through the door. He was a blond. Despite being slender and probably about James' own six-two, he held himself like he'd been trained. Possibly military. Never underestimate. James had taken that away from the war and didn't forget it even back home.

James shifted a little in his chair, causing it to creak. The two had just come straight in and made themselves at home. James flexed his fingers on his Ruger to keep them limber as the Blonde spoke. James didn't bother with a reply to the question, not that he could have gotten one in anyways. For the shortest one with the rainbow head opened up his mouth and nonsense fell out. James spared a sideways look at his leg. It didn't look like he had gotten shot. His bluejeans were intact and covering the scars underneath. The only thing visible was the brace that kept him from putting more strain on his leg.

James turned his attention back to the original speaker when the Blonde jumped right in with his own observation. One blackish-brown eyebrow raised up, a direct match to his dark brown buzzed cut hair. James wasn't quite sure who these guys are but they were all over the place. It was almost amusing. Almost.

"How nice." James droned sounding bored. "Done showing off yet?" They could chipper on about how much they knew about him and try to show off. But James wasn't in the mood. Today had been the first day since he messed up his knee again that he was allowed to crawl out of bed for anything more than a bathroom trip. He sure as hell wasn't going to put up with this. Either they got to the point or got out or he could go for the third option which was typically frowned upon: shooting them.

~~
I have everything I had (just found it).. will put up my notes as well on here and throw up the old RP posts as well in the IC thread.

Guardj: Hee hee... it's all very Cheshire kitty-like, somewhat. Though it needn't be at all. I can do realism just as easily and too much oddity can drive a RP into the ground, so - moosen in moderation. ;)

It would be fun to drag one more person into the BLACK ABYS- :erm:

It would be fun to invite one more into a world building escapade. Please do, if you'd care to! If you are looking for something not quite of the usual (or even the usual) and don't mind some left hooks thrown in now and again, I might be a good fit. (I'm selling myself here. Please, put the poor writer out of their misery.)
BD: I may have found it! Gwen... the P.I.. I had it under another name! Ah haaaa! I shall post that in our thread. (Doin' a leetle dance, cause is sick, but some small dancing is manageable.)
Capaldi is going to be a nice change. They'd gone younger and younger, and I think Matt Smith had to grow into his role some, just based on age more than anything. I am really looking forward to what Mr. Capaldi does with it.

And this is driving me nuts. I thought I had it on a doc... I could have sworn I did. I don't seem to even have NOTES! Grah... That's okay, though. So long as you've got them, we're good.

Let me know when the thread's up and I will run over there and help rebuild, restart, revitalize... etc. (And in the meantime, I will continue looking.)
Yep!!! Totally! I would love to continue.

Unfortunately, I'm one of the few who was so totally head down and do only the RPs I'm scheduled for, I lost all of my old stuff. Were you one of those who was aware and able to save it? or shall we start again or try and recap what we recall? We could start up a thread with that name and fill in the OOCly side of it. :) It's so good to see you again!

(BTW - beyond the sadness of no more bow tie'ness to the Doc, was Tom Baker's cameo not AWESOME? He still has it. Warmed me from the inside, like hot cocoa.)
Pardons. :) Very sorry.
What? Plot? Where?? I shall stab it until it is dead, I say! Dead!

Awe c'mon, do we need plot? Can't we just.. you know... umm... do the slashy thingie that everyone does? space pirate/other space pirate
And then we can, like, put them into a place where they... Oh! Where they bump into one another while going around a corner because that never happens, ever! Seriously, I'm loving the idea and you so need to do this. High school fandom additional would be awesome, too. Just so we can throw in some catty girls. But do we really need plot? Don't you think you're asking for a little much? I'm feeling constrained! Can't feel... my.... toes...
Tempest said
Don't worry, even if you have some trouble at first, those more familiar will likely be all too happy to provide help where they can til you can find your feet.


Oh good! Well, it should be fun to be the noob on the block. If not help, then squishy things thrown at my head when necessary.
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