Monterey Bay Aquarium
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JBB: An Artblog!
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@theartofmadeline
h
Mike Driver
taylor price
Cosmic Funnies
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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.
hello vonnie
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Sade Olutola
Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
titsay
d e v o n
todays bird
seen from Japan
seen from United States
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seen from Germany
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seen from France
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@vensigliere
mama mia are you dead
She’s passed out on the ground, not dead. The unusual number of empty coffee cups around her shows the truth: she’s been pulling all nighters. A lot of them. Enough that she, say, hasn’t been active on this blog for upwards of a year? What a shock, truly.
Reblog if your muse has ever committed a crime.
starter for sapiens-apparatus
sapiens-apparatus:
Being led out of sight. Charming.
Obviously, they were a tad hesitant to completely enter the room, but if they had the feeling that if they were actually in danger they wouldn’t have accepted. Upon inspection of the room, they decided that they made it this far and it wasn’t worth backing out now. They could just vaguely make out the word ‘repair’ on the cabinet Ven had gone to. They’d seen that word a great many times.
Maxwell dove straight into their satchel, pulling out several properly labeled components (the exceptions being the plastic and ballistic fiber - Those were rolled.) They quickly set to work, definitely keeping up the whole ‘inhuman’ idea in place.
“My name is Maxwell, by the way.” They didn’t really expect a reply, but they never did. Not really, anyway. The last person they introduced themself to shot them in the head, so they were a tad nervous about that happening again.
It took them a minute to realize they were asked a question - Their attention was ripped away from making the strange ‘skin’ they used.
“Oh- uh. That isn’t… No thank you.”
Ven searched through the drawer for all of the mechanical repair supplies she could find; some of her associates had prosthetic limbs or other parts, and sometimes she had to repair them or provide the materials for it. It paid to be prepared, especially for her. If she had to work with incompetent brutes half the time, she’d be the smart prepared one to compensate.
She pulled out various tools to make false skin and repair mechanical components, only to find that Maxwell was already working on it. That was one less thing to do, at least. Convenient enough. She’d take it.
“Nice name. I’m Ven. Nice meeting you.” She laid out the materials before grabbing more tools from the medical cabinet; mechanical or not, it was hard to tell exactly how realistic Maxwell’s outsides were. Perhaps stitches would be necessary? Probably not, but it paid to have such things out.
“So, Maxwell, what exactly happened to cause your injury?” Ven spoke absently, wanting to keep up conversation as she worked on fixing their gash. Keeping things from getting awkward would be less than easy, considering how this whole situation started, but she’d do her damnedest to try. It was really all she could do.
starter for sapiens-apparatus
sapiens-apparatus:
They were doubtful. Very, very doubtful. A change in attitude this sudden?
This had suspicious written all over it. They didn’t like it, not one bit. Maybe they were being dragged into an interrogation. Or being watched in a covert means. Maxwell’s mind wandered a vast ocean of possibilities in a very, very short amount of time. Too many variables. Too many variables!
Wait a fucking minute - The fuck does that matter?
“I… I can fix myself up, but if an excuse is what you’re after… then fine.”
Maxwell wasn’t discreet about how they felt. It had always been that way and now was no different. They were outwardly calm, but they quick and jumpy. Mostly in the eyes. They were chewing at their gloves (as chewing on their fingers would mean removing the gloves altogether.)
Maxwell tucked their satchel behind them and stood patiently. They weren’t quite sure if they were supposed to go first and they didn’t want to, really. “I already have ballistic fiber. As far as I know, that’s generally a military-grade thing?”
She could see the suspicion in their eyes the moment she suggested anything, and in a way, she respected it. Even if she wasn’t going to make up such an excuse when she could so easily knock them out--or so she hoped, as this person was very clearly not human--she knew many would, and suspected that their jumpy, suspicious attitude had gotten them out of tight spots on more than one occasion.
Nonetheless, she was being sincere, and so she just accepted their anxious tics as opposed to commenting. “I just figured you could use some help. And hey, it’s a good way to make up for being an aggressive dick. It’s been a long day, I’m not usually so quick to snap at people. And yeah, it is, but I’ve got some extra if what you have isn’t enough.”
Ven opened the door to her shop, the little bell making a little metallic ding as the door swung open. The shop itself was nothing special, but had a cozy air about it, with various bookshelves holding novels and trinkets of all sorts. It truly looked like an unassuming little bookstore, which was the beauty of it.
Ven’s only employee in today, aside from herself, opened his mouth at the entrance of his boss and her companion, only to be silenced by Ven’s hand on his mouth. “Keep working, Abrams. I’ve got a meeting in the back room, you see nothing.” At that blunt statement, the worker merely rolled his eyes, going back to doodling as he sipped at his ginger ale. Ven led Maxwell to the backroom, a fairly cushy place with a battered circular table in the center, chairs of various kinds surrounding it. A knife was still stuck in the center of the table, as well as the handle to the small refrigerator in the corner.
“Go ahead and take a seat, I’ve got more supplies. Do you want something to drink? I’ve got soda and alcohol in the fridge, as well as the materials to make tea or coffee or something.” Ven went to one of the cabinets lining the walls, opening one labelled ‘prosthetic repair’.
starter for sapiens-apparatus
sapiens-apparatus:
Maxwell didn’t even hear two words before their face spoke their irritability for them. To their credit, they didn’t mock or interrupt at any point but they sure as hell wanted to. After Ven finished they gave a ‘tisk.’ They’d heard shit like that before. Honestly, being reminded was more of an annoyance.
“One, I’m Irish. I’m an Irishman. My accent is Southern Irish WITH Cockney. Two, I never had the time, and I’ve already got two languages memorized - just because I can’t read in a third doesn’t mean shit. Three, I’m older than everyone within a three mile radius of me.” Their voice was rather sour. “And - Older than the fucking city, too.”
“And, y’know, not even from the same universe.” They mumbled.
“So unless you still think you know more about me than I do - and I keep my fucking limitations in mind - Good day.”
Despite her exhaustion, Ven had the good grace to feel bad about making assumptions based on the accent. Just because most of the English speakers she knew could also read it didn’t mean everyone did. It might be common, but it wasn’t universal. Fine. They couldn’t read English. Not super relevant at the moment. And what the fuck did being thousands of years old matter? Presumably, anyway--Ven’s knowledge lied in eclectic places, and she knew that London was about 2000 years old. So she’d heard from her associates who lived through it, anyway. Considering that little remark about universes, it was possible that they weren’t quite that old, but it didn’t matter.
Ven sighed, much of the tension leaking out of her body. She’d riled up this person, and today was not a day that she wanted to use her brass knuckles. Not with her employee standing right inside. “Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m fucking tired and forgot that not all English speakers can read it. I don’t know what you apparently being thousands of years old matters, but I do know one thing.”
She tapped the place on her own cheek where their wound was. “You need that fixed, I don’t want to stand out here anymore, and I’ve got the materials to get it patched up enough where people won’t stare. I’m no mechanic, but I can help. How about you come inside, I make some coffee--or tea, or whatever--and I fix you up. Sound like a deal?” She was no altruist, but she wanted to make up for her faux pas. Pissing off random strangers wasn’t her prerogative, so she’d try to fix it.
starter for shxpxrd-returns
As she finally returned home to her apartment she was staying at, well until she heard back about a possible job opportunity in another country, she took her coat to immediately being bagged up. Maybe she’d run this into the police at some point. No she was too lazy to, the police could come to her she couldn’t be bothered to deal with them unless they came to her. Though she soon retrieved another jacket from her closet knowing she’d be heading back out at some point. Thankfully there hadn’t been blood on anything else but her jacket.
Even though she had been trampled, she had at least a brief description of her assailant. She hadn’t gotten a great look of them, more or less making sure they didn’t trample on her head or face and cause her any injury, but she could at least offer a tip to the police should they find her. Though a thought about the assailant trying to find her also occurred to her, though with their rush she doubt they’d be able to find her before the police did. Not being to worried, she was like everyone else, she wasn’t anyone of importance so who would really care about her.
Frey sighed, looking around the little apartment she knew her next task was heading off to work, grabbing her spare jacket to slip on before heading back out once more. Nothing like going to work, but she needed the cash to make sure she was staying alive before hearing back about the job. So little odd jobs until then were necessary. Stepping back onto the street she made her way to her job, working as a repair technician in a small little technology store.
Ven had narrowed down her target to a square 10 miles; she could assume that they lived in the area, at least temporarily, and so she started searching for every single blonde with shoulder length hair within a certain age range. Thanks to a few emails with her technology contact, she thought that the person she was looking for was one Freya Shepard, aged 22. That still wasn’t confirmed, but it was the best she could hope for. And so, she went looking in places that Shepard tended to frequent.
The target wasn’t in her apartment when Ven went looking, so she erased all traces of her presence in the building before going to look at Shepard’s current place of work. She found said target in a little technology store she’d only seen in passing, and merely pretended to be shopping as she quietly paid attention to the target. Sure enough, the voice was the same, and so Ven continued planning out how to subdue Shepard. She didn’t have access to the work schedule for this particular place, so all she could do was wait for Shepard to clock out.
Ven made her way back to Shepard’s apartment, waiting right next to the door for her target to enter. She had considered using her brass knuckles to knock out Shepard, but she didn’t want to do too much damage. After all, she had been in the wrong this time, and her only goal was to make sure that Shepard wouldn’t spill anything to the cops. As such, she had her tranquilizer gun ready instead, and she shot at Shepard the moment the door to the apartment swung open. She felt bad, but guilt wasn’t something she could listen to. Not in her profession.
starter for shxpxrd-returns
shxpxrd-returns:
London was definitely a lovely place, one she had willingly moved to in hopes to escape her dull life across the seas, it definitely seemed to beat the US at least a little bit. Though she could say it wasn’t all she had hoped it’d be. Well until today when some action seemed to have finally occurred. Having been thoroughly tackled to the ground immediately in discomfort as well as panicked from the intrusion, she wasn’t sure what was happening. All she knew was the person was in a rush and seemingly didn’t care as they scrambled to their feet. Sputtering out curses as the person fled the scene of conflict the blonde took a moment to recover herself before standing up and dusting herself off.
It wasn’t until she had placed her hand over a wet spot on her coat. Lifting her hand, she glanced at the substance before recognizing it as blood. It couldn’t be her blood could it? Sure she was hurting but she didn’t think it was that bad, giving herself a check over she confirmed it wasn’t from her. It must of been from her assailant, well for someone who was injured they sure were booking it pretty well. Though if they were running there had to be a chase perhaps? Soon enough the sirens of the police car blasted by, the lights flashing nothing but a blur to her.
Giving a grunt of course she’d have been in the way of someone fleeing the police. Well there could be worse scenarios for her, but this had to be one of the better outcomes. Unsure of what she should do, she simply shrugged off her coat and folded it up. The police would surely find her at some point for their investigation, she had the feeling. But until then she continued her walk home, her thoughts still on her mysterious assailant and what they had done.
Successfully getting to her feet, she continued her escape, ignoring the swears from the person she had landed on. For now, bystanders were irrelevant. She had goods to stash and officers to outrun. Maybe she could apologize later. Send a fruit basket or something. Something that says ‘sorry for trampling you and getting blood on you’. It was a thought, at least.
It wasn’t until Ven was several blocks away and finally hidden from the police that she realized her fatal mistake: she had left behind a witness, someone who had likely seen her face and could pick her out of a lineup if necessary. Forget the fruit basket, she needed a name and an address immediately--it didn’t matter who this person was, they needed to be detained, and fast.
Ven spared only a moment to stash away the goods and change her coat and shirt before trying to find the person she had slammed into. With only a glimpse, it was difficult, but if she could make her way back before the cops could process everything, she could successfully get this person to stay quiet. This in mind, she put on a short red wig and sunglasses before setting off to find the person she had trampled. London was big, but she had to find them. Otherwise, she was practically dead already.
starter for sapiens-apparatus
sapiens-apparatus:
Maxwell wasn’t particularly thrilled about being out and about right now. They had been searching feverishly through the area for auto-shops, hardware stores - anything that had to do with machinery. The large gash on their head exposed their mechanical nature to entirely too many people at once. One or two people had even stopped and gawked at the metal sticking out of them - others had asked if they had simply replaced their jaw.
And they particularly had a distaste for the two very thick gloves they were wearing - which, admittedly, matched the jumpsuit they had chosen to wear. Both of their hands had been stripped of the false “skin” they were built with, and thusly exposed the magnets that held them together as well. So they wore the gloves in a last-ditch effort to be considered human. The rose-vine tattoo partly on their neck helped in that, at least.
It came as a surprise to Maxwell when a flier was suddenly shoved in their hands, and they stopped for a moment to figure out what the hell was happening when they heard Ven speak. Blinking, they glanced over the text to see if they could even read any of it.
“Awful sorry, I can’ read this,” they spoke, holding a hand to their head. “Or English, for that matter.”
Ven, with all of her perception skills, immediately noticed the metal sticking out of Maxwell’s cheek, but couldn’t bring herself to give a damn. She didn’t care if they were a robot or a cyborg or something of that nature, so long as they didn’t plan on destroying all of England. She had a shop to run and a job to do, she couldn’t have some lanky metallic ginger destroying everything.
For now, though, she simply frowned at their response. She could understand being unable to read the flier, as it was written in fairly curly cursive, but English altogether? From someone who sounded like they were from the UK? She didn’t really believe it, and the thin excuse only increased her frustration.
“You, someone with a very obviously Cockney accent, can’t read English. Of course you fucking can’t. Good thing I sell audio books and stuff in other languages. I get that you’re busy or some shit, but I’ve been out here for almost seven hours, so take a goddamn flier. I’ll run it through a translator if you need me to. Just take the damn thing.” She wasn’t trying to start a fight or anything, but her exhaustion was getting the best of her, resulting in her typical calm tone becoming more snappish.
starter for espionthrope
The little bell on the door of Ven’s bookshop rang out, interrupting the relative peace. She was the only one working in the shop until later in the day, but she had few problems with that; the day had only had a single customer so far, a regular who had simply come in for the latest book in a series they were following. She’d just been sitting at the counter for her morning, sipping at her latte and flipping through old sci-fi novels.
The new customer was dressed somewhat oddly, but she was hardly one to judge, considering how her... associates could dress when incognito. Still, a bandanna was odd to see in this particular area. Or really anywhere, outside of cowboy films and her old home back in the southern United States. Maybe they were covering some kind of scar or blemish. The prickle down her spine said otherwise, but she’d ignore it, at least for now.
She laid down her book and put on an easy smile, waving lightly to the customer. She still looked tired, but at least it was the amiable kind instead of the bitter kind. It was really the best she could do, after spending all night going through various records. “Welcome to the Book Den. Is there anything you’re looking for?”
@espionthrope
starter for sapiens-apparatus
Flyers. That was the idea one of her staff had offered as a way to increase customers for the store. A good enough idea in theory, but when he said that making the flyers was his contribution and her only other staff member was out sick, it resulted in her having to drag herself outside and hand out flyers in front of the shop entrance.
So far, only two people had taken flyers of their own volition, so her marketing strategies had slowly gotten more aggressive as time wore on. By the time the latest person had passed by the shop, she actively shoved a flyer into their hands.
“Hey come shop at the Book Den. We’ve got all kinds of books at good prices and stuff you won’t find elsewhere. Take a fucking flyer.” Her tone was less than jovial, but her exhaustion was obvious in the bags under her eyes and the dead coldness of her gaze. She didn’t care if this was overly forceful, she would have people take these damn flyers, or else.
@sapiens-apparatus
starter for shxpxrd-returns
Running through the streets of London wasn’t her favorite pastime, but when you were holding smuggled goods and your deal had been busted by the police, it was a necessity. Whoever had spilled information about it was getting a bullet between the eyes and a boot to the crotch, though not necessarily in that order.
She fled through the streets, a solid pound of cocaine and two pints of human blood hidden under her overcoat as she attempted to shake the police and keep them from seeing her face. After all, she had a business to run, she couldn’t let her hobbies interfere with her store.
As she leapt over a fence in order to escape easier, she failed to notice someone directly on the other side of the fence. Notably, someone she smashed right into in the process of landing, resulting in one of the bags popping and her coat being covered in blood as she landed facefirst on the ground.
“Motherfucker-” She attempted to scramble to her feet, paying little mind to the person she had toppled in her descent. She had a job to do and could worry about that later.
@shxpxrd-returns
starter call
//like or reply to this post for a starter; if your rp blog is a sideblog then reply with what it is. if you have a verse or scenario preference, message me
So could you Tell me how you’re sleeping easy How you’re only thinking of yourself Show me how you justify Telling all your lies like second nature Listen, mark my words: one day (one day) You will pay, you will pay Karma’s gonna come collect your debt
Even More Unusual Asks
😬- If you bit someone, would it hurt? 🏨- Name a time you were badly injured. What happened and what caused it? 🏆- Do you consider yourself competitive at all? What will you do to win a game/fight? 🥘- Are you good at cooking? What is the best dish you have made. Alternatively, how bad are you at cooking? What’s the worst dish you’ve made? 🌴- Do you like going on vacation? Or does your boss force you to take a break? 🐚- When treasure hunting, what do you look for? Stuff that sparkles and shines or dusty ancient relics? 👓- How good is your eyesight? Do you ever need glasses for anything? 👛- What are the contents of your purse/bag/pockets? 👘- Describe your formal attire. What would you wear to a wedding, fancy dance/date/dinner, funeral, or similar formal events? 🐩- What dog breed bests suits you? 🐆- What cat breed best suits you? 🐻- What wild animal best suits you? 🎀- Do you like cute things at all? What is the cutest thing you have or have met? 🎉- What is a typical birthday celebration like for you? How do you go about celebrating other people’s birthdays? 🗝- What is looped around your key ring? 🛁- What do you do to treat yourself? 💉- Do you dislike shots and injections? 🌅- Are there any scenic locations you would like to live out your retirement in? 🍸- Do you need to relax right now? What do you do when you take the day off? 🏰- If you owned a castle, what would you make it look like? 🚏- How good are you with directions? Do you get lost easily? ⚽️- What games did you play with other kids when you were younger? 🍱- Are you hungry right now? Are you craving anything to eat?
I love you
“Thanks?”
"Are you in need of anything? Weapons, men, supplies? ... a distraction for anything?" (Austrian mafia anon)
“Not at the moment, no, but I’ll be sure to contact you if I do; once I verify your validity, of course.”
What will it take to hug you??? I have uh,, treats??
“I’m not a dog, I can’t be swayed by treats. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, so no hugs.”
