#sasha001

[scthcartcr]

@sashaxramsey​

New blood wasn’t too common around the town of Olympus. Sometimes there were more and sometimes there were less. But the woman at the counter, she was new blood, potentially just a tourist, which did happen when people were visiting New Orleans or when people were passing through. An eyebrow is raised almost immediately in her direction as he sips on his black coffee, in the same diner that he’s always in— Mama Kay’s. It’s mostly a comfort here and with the new person just down the way, well, he’s intrigued. “You ain’t from around here, are ya?” he asks, knowing the answer already. Of course she wasn’t or he’d know her from afar. Hell, maybe she’d be running in the opposite direction of Seth Carter, considering the man’s reputation. “Because a townie definitely ain’t orderin’ what you did. Townies stick to the basics and pie.”

[rothane]

@sashaxramsey​ / ‘sometimes, y'all, my need for pancakes gets so intense.’

setting: little dove diner, mid morning. 

The comment pulls a short laugh from her, sipping the cup of coffee in front of her. “Trust me, that’s something I can relate to.” Despite it being a little juvenile, pancakes have been one of Rowan’s favourite foods for as long as she can remember. “I’m pretty sure my pancake budget alone could keep this place afloat for a month if everyone else decided to stop comin’ in.” She jokes with a roll of her eyes. The woman beside her at the diner bar isn’t someone she recognizes, which is odd considering how small of a town it is, but Rowan doesn’t think too far into it. “The chocolate peanutbutter ones are my favourite. But if you’re more of a savory kinda person the butternut squash squash ones are good, too.”

[xfillyana]

@xfrussia

Illyana had grown indifferent to her trip to Athens, choosing to see it as a vacation rather than a send off from her parents. Who, even still called her more than ten times in a day. Overbearing. She’d answered the first time only for her mother to say that she’d be forming a strategic alliance with Russia by marrying the Grand Duke, Aleksander. Not quite yet ready to lose her freedom Illyana spent her first week at Athens doing anything but meeting her future husband. Lucky her.

But after 59 missed called and 47 texts from her mother she decided it was time to let go of her childish and rather selfish needs and at the very least meet him. The fact that she could ask around and find out which room was his was a bit alarming but still she knocked on his door and swayed on her feet waiting for a response.

“Aleksander?” God, she really hoped she had the right room. “It’s Illyana, of Iceland.”

[halcyonortiz]

date/time: oct 30; 19:45 ​ location: the hospital @credinaa​

technically, halcyon’s shift is over. it’s been over. she isn’t the only one working late today though, thanks to whoever dosed the stalls this afternoon at the festival. so, here she is, recording yet another set of vitals from an unlucky attendee. at least it seems the end is in sight now, as this check comes back as stable as the last few. it’s a relief when she can cut the stream of mana from the monitor, even if her arms still ache afterwards.

even the most affected of their patients started clearing up at the six hour mark. she files that information away for now—and it’s a slim file. they know so little about dorian in general, and nothing at all about how it will affect leorans in the long term.

“still no more hallucinations, jaina?” halcyon asks, glancing down at her patient. the young beastkin woman shakes her head, and halcyon checks the time. “it’s been nearly two hours since you last reported one. i think we can send you home, if you’re feeling alright. would you like me to call anyone for you?”

that’s how she ends up here: now nearly four hours past when she should’ve been home, waiting in the lobby for a starfleet member. it isn’t hard to spot the tall blonde woman matching jaina’s description, and halcyon tries her best to put aside her personal grievances for this interaction. 

“sergeant sasha soverall?” the tension makes her voice tight, despite her best intentions. she’s tired, she’s frustrated, and she didn’t have to worry about illicit substances and mass drugging before the collective came to leora. she’s no fan of the starfleet, but surely preventing these substances from entering the leoran market is part of their role? this sergeant is just one member of the starfleet, but she’s the one in front of halcyon now. 

halcyon clears her throat. “my name is doctor ortiz. you must’ve received my message. we’ve had one of your students here for observation after today’s incident. she seems to be alright, but she wanted you to be the one to take her home. evidently her parents are back on her home planet.” splitting families across different planets for the sake of the starfleet; halcyon doesn’t bother hiding how she feels about that. 

[asterlingfox]

Location: 5th Floor Study Lounge, Geology Building Date: Sunday, August 26th  Time: 6:49 PM  ((closed to @sashahartashby​)) 

It’s not like Sterling procrastinates - he doesn’t. He’s nearly as rigorous when it comes to schoolwork as when it comes to exy, even if the passion for the former is conspicuously lacking, but for all the work he tries to get done during the week, there’s always some left for Sunday nights. Trying to read, or write, or study in his suite is possible, manageable, especially when the trek to his favorite study spot would take too long to justify how long he’d be there; but Sundays grant him the time to walk from the Tower down Perimeter Road and onto campus to the Geology building. 

The study lounge on the fifth floor feels like the best kept secret that PSU has to offer - it boasts couch long enough to lay out on, right across a small table from two huge lounge chairs that brag individual outlets and trays, a seemingly endlessly stocked Keurig on the counter, and a snack machine that hums away unassumingly next to the door, right around the corner from a bathroom used so rarely that it’s actually uncannily clean. Whoever else regulars the lounge - presumably the older geology majors and professors - has decorated it with framed pictures of craggy landscapes, with slices and samples of an impressive array of different types of rocks, the more common among them displayed out loose, the others in little glass cases on shelves or the counter. Sterling’s seen enough rocks and sand to last him a lifetime, but it’s not an altogether unpleasant aesthetic. Plus the lounge is off the beaten track enough that the traffic past it is minimal, especially when it’s not peak class hours, and after the usual noise and chaos of the Tower, it feels like heaven. 

But today there is one hugely glaring exception when Sterling opens the door to the fifth floor: Sasha fucking Hart-Ashby, stepping off the elevator and turning in the same direction Sterling’s headed. His hands tighten around the straps of his backpack so hard the clasps creak a little as he makes his strides longer, quicker, so he can get through the doorway of the hallway first, spinning in place to block the way. “You’re not-...” he trails off, head cocked a little, not about to give away the secret if she’s not already in on it. “Right?” His eyes narrow.

[isabellelawless]

"Did you see them, Sasha! The rotter sympathizers, out their with their peaceful protest signs, asking us to disband? It's disgusting. After all the HVF did for them  - and continues to do! Have they gone out of their minds? Who do they think's gonna save them when PDS turns out to be nothing more than a temporary stopper on their rabid nature..."