#c0rmac

[coesmos]

sam  coe  is  no  stranger  to  name  recognition  .    that’s  why  ,    despite  how  frequently  the  galaxy  demands  to  know  one’s  name  when  it  comes  to  practically  all  matters  to  do  with  professionalism  or  luxury  ,    he  tends  only  to  tell  someone  his  first  name  .    luckily  ,    there  are  a  lot  of  people  out  there  who  don't  recognise  his  last  name  for  who  it’s  attached  to  .    generally  ,    they’re  the  ones  who  hadn’t  paid  attention  in  their  history  classes  ,    who  had  learned  about  the  founder  of  akila  city  and  pioneer  of  the  cheyenne  system  and  promptly  forgotten  about  it  all  once  they  had  passed  the  class  .

but  every  once  in  a  while  ,    he  finds  himself  in  a  position  to  invoke  his  name  and  family  status  in  order  to  get  in  somewhere  .    in  order  to  move  along  some  goal  he  has  .    he  hates  doing  it  .    it  reminds  him  of  jacob  :    of  the  way  his  father  would  do  the  same  thing  ,    and  would  use  it  to  justify  how  he  bullied  those  who  had  no  name  handed  to  them  on  some  silver  platter  .

this  time  in  particular  ,    he’s  ushering  abigail  past  a  startled  security  guard  and  into  the  elevator  at  new  atlantis’  galbank  .    the  archives  weren’t  an  easy  place  to  get  into  ,    but  he’d  rather  stink  of  haughty  guilt  than  waste  an  hour  arguing  with  the  front  desk  about  why  they  need  to  get  in  .    he  heads  to  the  back  of  the  elevator  ,    face  flushed  from  embarrassment  and  the  disgusting  high  he  feels  from  the  encounter  .    he  looks  at  a  poster  plastered  on  the  inside  wall  :    SIGN  UP  FOR  THE  UC  VANGUARD  TODAY  !

@c0rmac  .    " i  gotta  say  ,    i'm  a  pretty  big  fan  . "

he  grimaces  ,    tilting  his  head  to  the  side  and  watching  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  .        ❝        this  is  one  of  those  times  when  i  wish  you  weren’t  .    just    …    forget  you  ever  saw  that  ,    all  right  ?    i’m  not    …    proud  of  it  .        ❞

*   .゜ JOHN  WICK  FRANCHISE  PROMPTS  .

[in3]

@c0rmac: i do not need your sympathy or your admiration.

“ think of it as empathy. ” his dad was dead. the person his mom was had died when his dad did — apparently, jim would have been a bigger fan of her when the uss kelvin was alive and well — and he wasn't forced into starfleet, but at the time he felt like there was no other choice. dead end in iowa, or the chance to see the stars at the price of more school and possibly death. he's glad he picked here. “ i'm just saying, i know your situation a little better than you might think. ” he takes a swig from his bottle, offering her a grin afterward. “ i'm jim, by the way. uss enterprise. ”

[undecime]

@c0rmac: there's more to the story, isn't there?

THE DOCTOR LOVED STORIES. he loved that there was a beginning and an end, and that all the contents in the middle were fair game. usually, he got to reach in, mix it around with his hands however he pleased, and hopefully left it a better place. THE DOCTOR LOVED TELLING STORIES. very rarely, though, people questioned him when he was telling them. they were keen to sit still, WIDE - EYED AND BUSHY - TAILED, just amazed to bask in his glow. did he like doing it? of course he did. humans were interesting to him, constantly seeking out something new and unknown. he used to do the same. almost a thousand years later, he's still doing it. “ there's always more to the story, abby. ” the doctor grins, finger reaching forward to lightly tap on her nose. “ well, i think i have no other choice than to show it to you. have you been to that part of the universe before? well, i suppose it doesn't really matter. you weren't born seven hundred years ago — WELL, UNLESS YOU WERE. ” he's run over to the console of the TARDIS, but pauses, hand perched on the go lever. “ were you? have humans learned how to be that old yet? ”

[sgtroach]

∗ 43﹕ sender  kicks  receiver’s  shin  beneath  a  table .

“ ah — fuuuck - ! ” YOU SWEAR THAT YOUR FUCKING BONES ARE STINGING NOW and okay , maybe you deserved that — but who could blame her ? that smug grin plastered across dimpled cheeks screams trouble , and the half - empty heineken bottle nestled within your grip confirms that nothing good comes from a tipsy bug’s mouth . the banter had been light enough at first , treading upon familiar and easy ground . honestly , you’re not sure when ( or why ) exactly the mood began to shift into — whatever this is . all you know now is that abby is giving you quite a distinctive look as you reach down with your free hand to nurse the bruise that’s surely to form beneath the cover of your jeans ( and no , you’re not pouting . not at all ) . “ you’ve got one helluva kick . shit . ” fingers rub soothing circles against the muscle along your shin — aka : her foot’s latest target — until the constant aching finally began to subside . although there is an air of defensiveness settling upon your shoulders from the whole ordeal , another potent emotion lingers in the sharp tone of your voice : disappointment . “ honestly , abbs , what’d i do now ? ”

non-verbal prompts . accepting .

[sgtroach]

“ two goldfish are in a tank. one turns to the other and says… ‘you know how to drive this thing?’ ”

THE DAWNING REALIZATION IS SLOW TO MANIFEST , a few dismal seconds of utter disbelief eventually blooms into the world's biggest shit - eating grin . god damnit , she really gets your sense of humor ! and maybe that would have been fine if it had been said over a couple of beers and one too many failed games of pool --- but right now both of you are on the clock , stuck dead in the middle of some important trade deal with only the protection of the tinted - out windows of your chevy malibu to keep some semblance of privacy . . . and safety . but holding in that belly laugh actually fucking hurts your stomach at this point , even the few wheezing cackles that do manage to escape feels like pure fire in your lungs . jesus ! this shit is making your eyes water ! that's when you finally turn your head to face her , face completely flush and palm audibly smacking against your forehead ( you were never one to be subtle ) . " oh my god . " it comes out as a giggle as you're shaking your head , and you shift in the driver's seat enough so that you can gesture wildly at the steering wheel in front of you . " how can they drive when they don't even have any hands ?! " and yes , you do think you're that funny .