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Okay, this is going around. Leave a comment with one of these characteristics as related to one of my characters (Courtney, Fiver, Charlotte, Gibbs, John) and I will write a drabble for it. As an added bonus, if you want me to include one of your characters, just ask
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The third time Strangers appeared in the Nexus, he was beside himself. Every time Melinda tried to leave the house, he found some excuse to keep her in place (often redirecting her to the bedroom). When she did insist on visiting Sarah in the City, and Courtney in Hillsborough, he tagged along like a faithful dog.
"What," she asked finally, "do you think is going to happen? I mean, just because they're in the Nexus doesn't mean they know-"
"I don't care," he said stubbornly, "They're not getting you. Ever."
He refused to speak to her for hours after she sneaked off the Island while he was asleep.
"There are always going to be dangers in the Nexus," she protested finally, breaking the tension between them. "Some you won't even see coming. You can't do this for the rest of our lives."
"...I could," he answered. "If you'd marry me."
After that, they quickly reached an accord.
Courtney:
((Flailing Courtney dovetails nicely with Cooking Courtney.))
"The roast is burned!" she wailed from the kitchen. This was the first thing Thorn heard as he walked through the front door.
"...'s she orright?" he whispered to Aloysius, who had opened the door for him. The old man rolled his eyes ceilingward and shook his head, then got the younger man a glass of wine.
"Muh! Muh!" Ned jumped up on the counter and sniffed at the meat. The smaller end was blackened.
"No! You'll burn yourself!" Courtney waved a dishtowel at the goblin. He backed off, offended. "Besides, maybe I can still save it..."
"It's just one end," Fisher said from the floor. "I'll eat it."
Courtney glared at him and started to speak, then brightened abruptly. "There's still juice coming out. Maybe if I cut it up..."
She picked up a knife and attacked the meat fiercely. Goblins and cat backed slowly away, intimidated by the onslaught. When she was done, there were eight passable slices of meat, and three that only a lover of charcoal would care to nibble on. With a moan of relief, Courtney placed the good slices on a plate and hurried to the dining room.
Behind her, Ned grabbed one of the remaining pieces and crunched it up happily, tossing bits to the waiting Fisher on the floor.
John:
The wind on the beach was high. Clouds made patterns overhead, cirrus clouds stretched like cobwebs across the blue. It was warm.
"You never swim," John told Anna over their lunch of fried clam strips, chips, and cole slaw. "I know you know how."
"It's not that I'm afraid," she shrugged. "I just...I don't know, I'm not comfortable in a bathing suit in public."
"You're gorgeous," he protested.
"Oh, I'm just average." She shrugged, blushing, then raised an eyebrow warily as he got an evil glint in his eye. "What are you thinking?"
"I want to go swimming. You know, you don't need a bathing suit to swim..." He lunged, scooping her up in his arm.
"JOHN!" she squealed in protest, kicking weakly and clinging to his shoulders.
He carried her easily down to the waves and plunged in. The force of the water bowled them both over. As the surf receded, she found herself on top of him in the wet sand. He laughed, flicking salt out of his hair.
"You're in a mood," she accused, and gave him an ocean-wet kiss.
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