Avatar of Fabricant451

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23 days ago
Current You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers
15 likes
5 mos ago
Why are you talking about Final Fantasy 10 like that
5 mos ago
Final Fantasy 13 is a top five entry in the franchise but ya'll still ain't ready to have that conversation
6 mos ago
This Bears/Packers game is gonna make me believe in the power of Chicago Pope
2 likes
6 mos ago
The older I get the more I start to think BBQ potato chips are the worst flavor, actually.
3 likes

Bio

Look, I got lost on the way to getting some jajangmyeon and it'd be foolish to leave now.

Most Recent Posts

I notice Saint Violet is playable.

I'ma apply for the spot.
Hobey-Ho, let's go.
Netflix was kind of a victim of its own success. Back when they just had stuff like House of Cards and Orange is the New Black it was all anyone was talking about and Netflix started being seen as an alternative to network programming and such. The Netflix logo stopped meaning instant success as they just started having more and more original programming and movies with less and less quality control. Every so often you get gems like American Vandal or The End of the Fucking World but then you also get like five different 13 Reasons Why. Netflix is pretty much the same as any other premium streaming service in that regard.




Back in the day when her father was bout her age there was a meme about record scratches and wondering about how someone got into a situation and for some reason that was flashing in Divya's mind as she stood and stared stared face-to-face with the supreme statuesque superjock scrapper Sam Lassiter on the latter's home turf. Sure, it was probably more accurate to say that D.B. was staring lens-to-face but the effect was largely the same. Sam Lassiter, the girl who would probably go on to be in the AWE or something, was scowling at the pint-sized Punjabi. D.B. would like to say that she was there to take the challenge - that would presuppose that she knew about the challenge at all - but she wasn't and she was no good at lying even if a lie would be better than the truth.

For a good thirty seconds now, D.B. was hearing a record scratch and observing the ways in which a human face could grow more and more annoyed with each passing second; thirty seconds typically passed in the blink of an eye but under the aggressive gaze of Sam Lassiter every second felt like a year off her life. D.B. was pleasantly surprised that Sam wasn't blocking the camera with her palm both because that would be the dick move to end all dick moves and because Sam was like really tall and strong and her hand would probably crush D.B.'s camera like an aluminum soda can - and D.B. just got the camera out of the shop and she couldn't afford repairs again so soon.

Still, she had to say something. Sam had asked D.B. the most simple question and D.B.'s answer so far had been a prolonged 'Uhhhh' and a nervous shake of her camera that would have put Paul Greengrass to shame. Judging by Sam's foot tapping now extending to her index finger tapping somewhat aggressively on her crossed arm, D.B. figured she had about two seconds to start answering the question. The record scratch only grew louder and more discordant before coming to an abrupt start. "Record scratch. Freeze frame. You're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation."

In front of the camera, Sam's look of annoyance and anger turned more towards bewilderment, like she was expecting D.B. to say she was being pranked or something. From what Sam could tell, though, this strange girl was being serious. That made it worse, especially since she wasn't here to spar or train or do anything. "Yeah? That's...that's...what I asked you?"

"Well, it's kind of a long stor-" "Dude, are you narrating?" D.B. paused in her narration to inhale sharply and exhale in similar fashion to a sigh. "This is why I don't like working with amateurs." D.B. was careful to speak soft enough to where Sam didn't hear...unless one of Sam's other superpowers was super hearing in addition to super strength and a super ass but one girl couldn't possibly be so fortunate. "Well...it's kind of a long story...meedley meedley meedley meedley..." D.B. was making noise and moving her camera in a zig zag pattern in front of an eternally annoyed Sam Lassiter. "That's...that's how you know it's...it's a flashback. We'll fix it in post."



It was a Friday night like any other for our hero, one Divya Bajwa - D.B. to her friends...as soon as she had those. A normal, regular Friday night...which is to say she was running a bit late for work to the point where she was tucking in her uniform shirt into her pants as she stepped through the sliding doors of the Guzz 'N' Go gas station. Her boss was busy seeing to a customer buying a lotto ticket with their gas along with a blue slushie. D.B. clicked her mouth at the amateur mistake. The blue slushie was less sugary than the red or the purple so you were just wasting potential; the only thing worse than the blue slushie were the crazy people who got the Coke slushies. At that point just get a regular Coke!

As usual, D.B. started her shift by grabbing a burrito and popping it into the microwave. It occured to D.B. that the reason her paycheck had so many miscellaneous subtractions was because of her fondness for burritos and her employee discount only going so far but she would take the hit to her pay if it meant burritos. Everyone had her vices. Hers just happened to contain melted cheese and beans and something that was probably at one point in the vicinity of meat. While the microwave was doing its duty, D.B. lifted the counter piece to the employees area with a soft wave to her boss - which the customer assumed was for him and so awkwardly waved back.

D.B. was in the back room a total of ten seconds before she came storming back out - just as the customer was on his way out the door already chugging away at his slushie. "WHY DID YOU TAKE MY HOURS OFF? I was scheduled for tonight until the overnight guy came in!" Had D.B. known that her schedule would just get erased like nothing, she wouldn't have nearly killed herself sprinting here and still being late. "What gives?"

"Divya, you're a teenage girl." Her boss was stating the obvious but Divya was going to allow him to continue without comment. She knew he wasn't being creepy about it and that there had to have been a point. "It's a Friday night and I can handle things here. You should be out enjoying yourself. Going on dates or something." The bearded manager spoke in a droning cadence, befitting of one who was regretting the choices in life that led to him being a manager at a gas station.

"You took my hours because you think I need to be out dating? What the heck gives you the right?" Sure, he might have been her boss and all but that didn't mean he could just...erase her hours. What if she had a date but cancelled because of work? What if she was going to see a movie but had to go tomorrow instead because of work? What if she made reservations at a fancy French restaurant just to try and pronounce the cheeses but couldn't because of work? Why was she internalizing these questions instead of vocalizing them in disgust?

"I'm doing you a favor when you really think about it. Look, just enjoy yourself tonight and I'll give you more hours next time. And you can have the burrito on me."

"I'm having two. Consider it hazard pay."



Normally D.B. was under the belief that it was impossible to be upset while having gas station burritos but she was finding that not every belief was true. By her own words she should be twice as happy since she was double fisting burritos as she made the trek back home, but not even the nuclear hot insides of melted cheese, re fried beans, and sour cream could heal the glaring wound in her heart. The wound of someone whose only human interaction, she assumed, was with the colorful people that still paid for gas on the inside instead of at the pump and who was now making judgments on her own affairs. Sure, he had a point that she wasn't getting any younger and most people at school didn't even know she existed even if they had been fans of the show she was on as a kid, but it wasn't his job to try and do her favors. She could get a date if she wanted to! She could make lots of friends if she wanted to! She just...didn't want to!

Both burritos were finished by the time she arrived back at the apartment complex that was her home. It's a good thing her mind was still distracted by burrito and the indignity of her boss as she opened the door of the apartment because it allowed her not to see that her father had company over. Company he was currently getting to know rather intently. With his mouth. But not, like, talking. Tongue was involved. Like, a lot of tongue. So much tongue. Like more tongue than a dentist's office. An incredible amount of tongue. She couldn't see hands but she assumed it was under the shirt. ("DUDE! I get it. Your dad was making out. That's kinda gross that you said tongue so many times.")

"Divya...!" The door being shut alerted Vijay to his daughter's presence and began the awkward shuffle one did when they were definitely caught doing something they expected privacy for. "Why aren't you at work?"

"Hey, Ruchika, good to see you again."

"Hello, Divya. I...your father was telling me about...feng shui." The same woman from a few days ago was clearly flustered and while Divya appreciated the need for the woman to lie, Divya wasn't a child, she knew what making out looked like and honestly she was glad that her dad seemed to be recovering from the ordeal with her mom. Plus, and this was D.B. being candid in the realm of her own mind, Ruchika was beautiful and well out of her dad's league. D.B. would be trying to make out with someone like that all the time if she were in her dad's shoes. ("Seriously, dude, do you wanna make out or something because holy shit.")

"Divya...did you get fired?"

"I wish. Well...I don't wish really. Mr. Kavanaugh took me off tonight because he doesn't think a girl my age should, like, miss out on dates or something. Don't worry, I'll be quiet. You two can keep talking about feng shui." D.B. was resigning herself for a night of watching old movies while hunched over a laptop monitor and munching on popcorn and chips which was typically how she spent most nights anyway, just without the popcorn and chips part.

"Do you not agree with him?"

"It you, dad-day?"

"I'm pretty sure it's 'et tu'"

D.B. didn't even parse what Ruchika said - besides which who even corrected something like that unless someone wanted to come off as the smartest person in the room even if it made them look like a monumental tool. She was too busy looking like her father had just plotted in her downfall like the salad guy. "I'm just saying, you spend a lot of time in your room. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you made a friend or two."

"Like two days ago I had to beg you to let me go to a party and now you want me out of the house? What happene-oh." D.B. looked from her dad to Ruchika and back to her dad. Honestly if her presence was a dealbreaker how passionate could they be? She'd seen kids make out in the halls damn near every day, and probably more than that if she looked hard enough, but these adults couldn't get their make out on if she had headphones on and was watching a movie? Were they planning on doing more than make out? ("I swear if you say make out one more time, dude...")

"What about that boy you told me about? The one you met at the party?"

"Zach? I'm not gonna discuss feng shui with him that's for sure. He's probably...huh. Yeah...maybe." D.B. left the statement rather open ended as she hurried off to her room both to change and to make sure her camera was fully charged and ready to go. By the time she returned to the front entrance, her dad and his date were pretending to be interested in the television broadcast of a sitcom. "Going out. Be back later. Don't wait up." And she was out the door faster than she could say feng shui make out.

"And so I came here looking for Zach because I figured he'd be here looking for you or something."

Sam Lassiter looked like she had just run the equivalent of a marathon; both of her hands were on her forehead and she was wondering who she pissed off to be saddled with this strange girl for the better part of, like, an hour. "That's all you had to say. I didn't need your entire life story, dude. I don't know who the hell Zach is but he's not here. I don't even want to be here, I'm probably gonna see if Owen wants to hang or something, I just came because I left some shit here this morning. Sorry, dude. Don't you have the dude's number? Maybe he can help you with your weird make out obsession."

"Trust me, it's not me he's interested in making out with, which is good because I have to remain impartial. But anyway, since I have you right here, can you make a statement about Zach? He's...uh...I'm pretty sure you fought him like yesterday? Maybe it was this morning?"

"Oh, that kid? He brought me flowers." Sam cracked a visible smile that D.B. was sure to capture on camera before Sam's face returned to normal. "But he wasn't much of a fighter. Could barely stop his knees from shaking together. I went easy on him. Felt kinda bad. I mean...he brought me flowers...so...." Sam trailed off and behind the camera D.B. was beaming. One day, Sam and Zach were going to thank her for this.

D.B. hadn't gotten what she came for but she still found something worthwhile. She set her camera aside and stood up with a stretch. The night was young enough...she'd probably just go catch a movie or something and before going into the theater proper she'd sit in the lobby on her phone and act like her date cancelled last minute. No one would be any wiser. As D.B. stood, there came a knock on the door of the Combat Club and both girls looked towards the door.

"Who the hell is that now?"

D.B. continued rolling...maybe it would be a reunion of lovers...or something...




Full Name: Evelyn "Evie" Albright
Alias(es): Lady Albright, Little Miss

Age: 19

Occupation(s): Unemployed. Wealthy daughter of an emigrated family. Avid fan of travelling troupes.

Race: Caucasian, English
Sexuality: Uncertain
Gender: Female
Height: 5'4"
Hair Color: Dark, Chocolate Brown
Eye Color: Hazel

Immediate Relatives:
Neville Albright (Father)
Lilah Albright (Mother)
Crispin Albright (Brother, Older)
Harry Albright (Brother, Younger)

Weapon(s):
Carries a pocket knife. She's used a lasso before.

Summarized Biography:
Evelyn Albright was alive just long enough to feel homesick when her father decided the best course of action was to expand their fortunes across the ocean. The only daughter of a family of three siblings, from a young age she was expected to follow in the footsteps of her mother, which is to say to become a proper lady who knew how to courtesy and keep a home. Why she was expected to know these lessons when the family emigrated to the Americas is something that she asked several times and has yet to receive a proper answer for.

Coming from a family of means, the aristocratic Albright Family, it was a rather easy transition for the Albright family to settle in, purchasing land for a plantation and a bank within town thus keeping the income and influence flowing by means of hiring cheap labor to run the plantation while the sons of the family were free to pursue their interests. Evelyn was relegated to remaining at the plantation most days until she began finding ways to escape into town or the outskirts. Initially it was hard for her to blend in given her outfits were considerably fancier than most townsfolk - as well as her accent - but Evelyn started to listen to the plantation workers speak and pattern her speech after them to...mild success.

Evelyn quite enjoys when travelling performers roll through as it turns things into something like an exhibition or festival for the duration of the stay. The horseriders, the sharpshooters, even the comedic fools, Evelyn enjoys the distraction. Distractions in general are what Evelyn looks for; spending just an hour walking the storefronts or sneaking into the saloon are far more enjoyable than sitting another etiquette lesson. The one thing Evelyn doesn't want is to simply be forced into a servile life out of expectation, the only problem is that she doesn't have any other notion of what it is she does want.

Personality:
Headstrong and curious would be apt descriptors of Evelyn, as would naive. A rather rigid life has given Evelyn the belief that she can get away with most things simply because of her family's name and influence - and considering at worst she merely gets a lecture after running off for an hour she has every reason to think that way. Still, she doesn't go searching out trouble or danger and she likes to think she is a fair judge of character even if the characters she's met have mostly been the same shade of salt of the earth types who enjoy a sprig of tobacco and a jaunt at the saloon.

Of course, given her somewhat sheltered upbringing, just because she thinks she knows the caliber of someone's character doesn't make her immune from the charms of liars and con artists. More than once she has believed and bought into the claims of an obvious snake oil salesman or been convinced by a traveler that a hidden stash of gold was buried behind the sheriff's office. Her lessons on reading and writing didn't exactly cover how to read when people were lying.

Despite that, Evelyn does have a good head on her shoulders, albeit one that is a bit too easily swayed at the worst of times. Her shortcomings can be forgiven, of course, she's still young and hasn't truly experienced all that the world has on offer.

Portrayer:
Mackenzie Foy
In light of everything that had transpired over the past moments, Sophie was willing to give AVA the benefit of the doubt on that. Were the situations swapped and Sophie was the one with a firearm she likely wouldn't have been able to identify where she took it from; she herself didn't carry such things despite understanding why self defense was so often a necessity. Considering she had someone like AVA with her most times, Sophie's need for self defense was considerably lessened. Of course, Sophie would have preferred if AVA never have to resort to even threats but the world rarely worked how one wanted it to.

"Regardless, I don't want you carrying something like that. If you're seen holding a weapon, it won't be pretty for either of us." Sophie was going to have to carry that burden, the weight of the responsibility showing through in her slightly shaken tone of voice. While she wasn't quite as skilled at remaining calm like AVA, it was brave of the doctor to at least put on a face to suggest that she wasn't phased by the events even if her body language betrayed that bravado.

"Thank you, AVA." Her still soft spoken words of thanks as AVA sheltered Sophie, even if only slightly, with an additional layer. It wasn't going to keep the rain from her eyes, but if nothing else it would keep her warm enough to continue onwards. "I promise you, I'm going to fix this, AVA. I don't know how...but I will. Trust me." Already Sophie was thinking of possibilities as to who or why things had to happen this way - even if her concern should have been where to go next...her head was spinning and not just because she was continually shaking her head in constant disbelief. "First, let me hold onto that..." Sophie gestured to the weapon and extended her palm.
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