#ltcdrconnolly

[littlehoundthings]

@ltcdrconnolly: ❛  you’re cute. how about i buy you a drink ?  ❜

"Let it be said that bein' blunt and straight forwar always works," Ashe chuckled as he motioned for the other to take a seat. "Ashe, and I'll take a whiskey on the rocks if you're offerin'."

[itsagentzero]

@ltcdrconnolly liked this for a starter

The military life had always suited Chris, except perhaps for the part where he was very eager to fight back when pushed. Perhaps it was the way he was raised to be a weapon or something intrinsic to his nature, but it was the one thing keeping him from being the perfect soldier.

Which is the reason why he had to answer to his superior officer over the last fight he had gotten in. Which he, of course, had walked out of mostly unscathed.

"I do apologize for the inconveniences I'm causing you, sir," Chris noted as honestly as he could. "But since we're being honest, it's likely going to happen again if Finnigan doesn't stop picking on me. I can stand a lot of things, sir, but never a bully."

[fortitudina]

@ltcdrconnolly gets a random dialogue starter.

" I have to say... I do love a man in a uniform. "

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ltcdrconnolly

Sailors collect superstitions in the same way old men with bread crumbs collect birds in the park. They offer fertile imagination that calls to every wayward dream and nightmare looking for somewhere to roost. The whole world should be so observant. In a sliver of time between middle and morning watches, the sleek dark shape crests the tide with its distinctive short, triangular dorsal fin. The gliding swim is silent and the closer to the water's inky surface it comes the better its stripes show even in the moonlight. A tiger shark doesn't belong so far inland. But neither should it twist and bend like that as it approaches the shore. For a brief instant the creature disappears into the turbid water again and when it reappears... ...long dark hair is plastered to rapidly cooling skin. Water drips off slender limbs and a small frame as the woman puts one foot on shore, then the next. At any distance the age would be difficult to guess but the general size and mathematics might dictate someone young or at least not large by any means. Someone very naked. Seemingly unaware of being observed, the woman picks her way demurely toward an outcropping of rock, where she bends and searches amongst the black shapes for something. A something she can't find and becomes increasingly panicked over. She's not had anything dedicated and so doesn't benefit from the ritual in changing forms. She could do with missing footwear but she's entirely sure that if she tries to walk home as she is now, she will be arrested. The tide couldn't have taken her small bundle. She's entirely certain the gulls didn't either, though she hasn't asked yet. The grasses don't seem particularly aware and there's no real breezes she can ask. In her despair and increasing anxiety, she can't help herself. Hands fisted at her side, she stamps her feet onto the sand, throws her head back and shouts. "Oh, come the heck on!"