MCA #3, Monday Evening

Monday, July 17th, 2017 09:58 pm
uncertain_dume: (Hey Hey)
[personal profile] uncertain_dume
Well. The weekend had been... eventful. And class had been a nice distraction. And, hell, Kanan had stopped by work and had a good chat with Eliot that afternoon about plenty of things that he'd been afraid to admit to himself, though he'd maybe been warming up to the idea of them, somewhat.

And now he was back at home, standing in the kitchen, looking thoughtfully down at a couple of nerf steaks in a frying pan as Stance pranced around the kitchen floor with the telltale clack-clicky-clack of a happy dog on linoleum who was hoping to score some nerf for himself.

"Okay," he said, smirking a little as he tossed the dog a chunk of meat. "But just this once. Hera and I have earned this meal this week. All you had to do was not torment the flamingos."

[OOC: For the roomie, but open for calls or visits or whatever, too!]

The Preserve, sundown

Sunday, July 16th, 2017 09:38 pm
sith_happened: (x plot: Mufasa)
[personal profile] sith_happened
In the jungle preserve, the mighty jungle preserve, the lion sleeps tonight---

After a delicious meal of several teal deer, Mufasa had fallen asleep and only barely had time to wake up when he finally recognized the thunder that signalled an incoming stampede of alot of, well, alots.

Mufasa ran and ran but there was a cliff at the end of his path and everyone's seen the movie...

A-wheee~

75 Godiva Road, Saturday Morning

Saturday, July 15th, 2017 05:20 am
geniuswithasmartphone: (zzzNoah: Shirtless)
[personal profile] geniuswithasmartphone
Noah often didn't want to get up in the mornings when that arrogant overseer, Cato, rang the bell calling the field hands to work. Being a blacksmith was easier than picking cotton--no worries about getting whipped if he didn't make weight, for one--but it was still long hours and hard work, making sure that all the horses were shoed and the tools repaired and every bit of metal on the plantation was bright and shining.

Waking up this morning was even harder. His bed felt soft, like a cloud, and his blankets like the gentlest cotton, wouldn't scratch a baby's naked ass. His sheets felt clean and crisp and the soft breathing from behind him--

Sheets?

Breathing?

Noah's eyes snapped open but he made himself lie perfectly still. Sure, last night had been one of Bareback Shaw's parties, but that didn't explain why he was asleep in one of the white folks' rooms! He didn't even wanna guess what kinda punishment that would entail if he was found here. Never mind the one he'd get for not being back in his quarters by sunup.

Another muffled noise behind him. Noah wasn't sure he wanted to look over and see who it was. He was praying that it would be another slave. Getting caught in a white woman's bed would result in something far worse than just more stripes on his back.

Maybe he could just...eeeeease on out of this bed and be out the door and on his way back to Macon before anyone was the wiser.

[For thems that live here! Also TRIGGER WARNING! Hardison is Noah from WGN's Underground and is a slave from 1850's Georgia. That means there will be references to slavery, beatings, lynchings, sexual assault and rape/coercion and pretty much every other horrible topic that comes up in conjunction with treating humans like chattel.]

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