Welcome to Masterworld D:
Who: LA RESISTANCE!
When: Nowish.
What: LA RESISTANCE mingling. Chatting. Inara being manly. Spike aka "William" being womanly. Kirk recruiting people by sleeping with them. You wish you had John Wilkes Booth as your childhood friend. WHATEVER YOU WANT, GUYS.
Where: Some super secret, dilapidated building on the outskirts of the city as ZE HOME BASE. Four or five rooms. Lit by candles at night. Shitty furniture. Very limited power and plumbing to avoid detection. HELL YEAH, WE ARE SO UNDERGROUND.
Warnings: None. Maybe. Hopefully. I'll edit if needed.
Notes: Please specify in the subject line if your thread is open, or if you're threading with some in particular. Anyone is free to thread with Inara.
Inara had had a very long night. The anti-Master posters that Kirk had made were gaudy and almost impossible to hide and transport, but she had managed to get fifteen or so up before she couldn't dodge the cameras and goons anymore. The posters were exactly what she had requested from Kirk, and as always, he had delivered flawlessly for their most recent "marketing" stunt.
Hands still shaking from the adrenaline, she looked over the newly discovered map of the city's sewage system critically. Her eyes were tired from straining in the candlelight, but the possibilities that the map had opened for The Resistance were impossible to leave until morning. Rubbing her eyes furiously for a minute with a sigh, she opted to wash her face in an aluminum basin sitting on one of the hastily made linoleum counter tops. After splashing her face with water and then mopping off the excess with her jacket, she moved back to the table and plopped back down in her seat with a groan. The rib injury she had received from one of the police officers earlier that week protested at the pace she lowered herself. Inara stifled any additional pained noises as she eased back in to her chair, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on her face.
[OOC: Her rib injury is actually left over death toll, but she doesn't know that :c Have at it!]
When: Nowish.
What: LA RESISTANCE mingling. Chatting. Inara being manly. Spike aka "William" being womanly. Kirk recruiting people by sleeping with them. You wish you had John Wilkes Booth as your childhood friend. WHATEVER YOU WANT, GUYS.
Where: Some super secret, dilapidated building on the outskirts of the city as ZE HOME BASE. Four or five rooms. Lit by candles at night. Shitty furniture. Very limited power and plumbing to avoid detection. HELL YEAH, WE ARE SO UNDERGROUND.
Warnings: None. Maybe. Hopefully. I'll edit if needed.
Notes: Please specify in the subject line if your thread is open, or if you're threading with some in particular. Anyone is free to thread with Inara.
Inara had had a very long night. The anti-Master posters that Kirk had made were gaudy and almost impossible to hide and transport, but she had managed to get fifteen or so up before she couldn't dodge the cameras and goons anymore. The posters were exactly what she had requested from Kirk, and as always, he had delivered flawlessly for their most recent "marketing" stunt.
Hands still shaking from the adrenaline, she looked over the newly discovered map of the city's sewage system critically. Her eyes were tired from straining in the candlelight, but the possibilities that the map had opened for The Resistance were impossible to leave until morning. Rubbing her eyes furiously for a minute with a sigh, she opted to wash her face in an aluminum basin sitting on one of the hastily made linoleum counter tops. After splashing her face with water and then mopping off the excess with her jacket, she moved back to the table and plopped back down in her seat with a groan. The rib injury she had received from one of the police officers earlier that week protested at the pace she lowered herself. Inara stifled any additional pained noises as she eased back in to her chair, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on her face.
[OOC: Her rib injury is actually left over death toll, but she doesn't know that :c Have at it!]