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@wecangobackvictorious
Indie Roleplay blog for Red Tails’ Captain Martin Julian!
World War Two, indie roleplay blog. Based on and highly influence by the Tuskegee Airmen. Faceclaim is Laz Alonso. Some topics on this blog may be sensitive to some, anything will be tagged accordingly. I look forward to writing with you! [Piloted by Astrid]
Straighten Up And Fly Right (Rules)
Crashed on Takeoff (Bio)
Left Of Your Escort (Disclaimer)
You’ve Got Your Way Of Getting Through The War (Verses)
‘When Prayers are Answered’
©Artwork by William S. Phillips
ALT
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@wecangobackvictorious
Continued from HERE
Elaine jumped a bit, almost dropping the offending office implement, when Easy addressed her. “Oh…um….” A flushed turned her ears pink. “I was kind of…talking to myself….” Clearing her throat, she held the stapler up for Easy to see. She doubted it would do anything to remove the baffled look from the man’s face, but it seemed like a decent enough start. “If I was into betting, I’d say that Sheila—she covers for me on my days off—I’ll bet she tried to staple like thirty sheets of paper together and jammed it up.” Perching on the corner of her desk, Elaine pried the stapler open, dumped most of the staples into her palm and set them down next to her. Then she squinted down into the device before sighing. “Yep….just like I thought. There’re four or five staples stuck at the opening, and they’ve all tangled together.”
Reaching up, she started patting her hair down and stopped abruptly when she realized she wore it loose that morning. “You…uh…wouldn’t happen to have anything on you that I could pull these out with, sir? Normally I use a bobby pin but…uh….I don’t have one today and I don’t want to upend my purse looking for strays.”
One would imagine that with age, Easy’s hearing would often fail him or at least diminish. With all those aircrafts he had been around in his youth, at some point in the war, he got wise and shoved cotton into his ears. Maybe that was why he had been cursed with hearing just about everything...even if he tried to tune it out. In this case, the small utterance Elaine had designated to herself.
“Oh,” He mutters in return. Perhaps it was his turn to mirror the flush of embarrassment. After all, he thought the stapler was going to war. It merely went to show, at least as much as Easy could testify to it, the war never left him. It left the world but he was not as lucky.
He listens, selectively, as she explains the mishap. The other secretary, Sheila, had a hat in the ring for rendering the office equipment unusable. One that Easy found undeniable. Easy’s mind seems to wander further away from him and both this conversation. He can see her feeling around her hairstyle, words leaving her lips until it hits him. She's still talking to him, this time asking a question rather than an explanation.
Somewhere in the weavings of distant combat, he tunes into her words. The way a pilot may tune into his wingman over heavy flak. Putting his paper down, and urging the gruff away from his voice with a slight cough, he reaches for the silver pin attached to his crimson tie, undoing it with a fluid movement. “Something like this?” He offers it toward her. “ Or…I’m sure I’ve got a paperclip somewhere on this desk.”
"Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing."
– Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment.
Which Van Gogh Painting are you?
self-portrait: i want to touch people with my art. i want them to say 'he feels deeply, he feels tenderly'." van gogh often didn't have enough money to pay for models to paint, so he painted himself instead for practice. he always felt that his self-portraits were a study of himself his own anguish. as if to say 'look at me. this is who i am. please know me. please love me.' you probably have a complicated relationship with vulnerability. that which you crave also terrifies you. i know it's scary to leave your soul bare, but you will be most happy - and most loved - when you are most seen. some of your traits are: introspective, conflicted, and compassionate
The mind is a powerful place, And what you feed it can affect you in a powerful way, It’s pretty cool, right?
Yeah, but it’s not always safe.
Mustangs | ATOC
Florence and the Machine, from “Third Eye“
Anaïs Nin, Fire: From “A Journal of Love”: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1937
“The stapler has been compromised.” --AVictimoftheJazz (might be Elaine or might torment Easy with someone else XD)
Behind his newspaper, Easy’s face brims with confusion. The phrase runs through his head once and then twice. Very briefly does it come across like the stapler failed to hold a final stand. Almost like an enemy plane breaking through a diamond formation, splitting the group to better pick them off.
The thought doesn’t make much sense to him, considering he’s never known a stapler to be at war. Then again, he’s still trying the whole process of being open to whatever happens to occur in his presence.
He peers over the top, glancing at said object. “How exactly does someone ‘compromise’ a stapler?”
@avictimofthejazz
One of the hardest lessons in life is letting go. Whether it’s guilt, anger, love, loss or betrayal. Change is never easy. We fight to hold on and we fight to let go.
Unknown (via thehopefulquotes)
“Shit I Overheard at my Law Firm” Sentence Starters
“Just read this fucker and take it to court.”
“Tone down your depositions, A-hole.”
“He may be a buffoon and a fool, but by God he was innocent.”
*grumble grumble* “Sexist bastards.”
“I don’t want to come into work without teeth!”
“That asshole better stop fucking with my client or else I’m gonna…”
“There are only two pears left. I’m naming them Adam and Eve.”
“Organic seaweed? What the hell is organic seaweed?”
“You asking me fishing?… fuck YES I’m there!”
“When the weather gets hot, I just step out on my back porch and pour water over my head for an hour or two. Works every time.”
“He is an artist. Use of Comic Sans in legal documents is his creative outlet.”
“Throw some Wingdings on that shit.”
“What does a person have to do to get a fucking cob salad around here?”
“I’m trying to decide if I should go insane and body-pump or go home and sleep.”
“You can’t just ring a bell, un-ring it, and then ring it again.”
“We lost. We lost big time. But it’s okay. I’m good. It’s cool. I’ve got whiskey. I’m good.”
*applying lipstick to go to the gym* “What kind of a crazy woman wears lipstick to the gym??”
“Are you going to shut up and FISH today?”
“Do you know of any pet friendly cafes? I’m meeting an attorney tomorrow and he’ll have his non-service hunting dog along. Don’t ask why.”
“Publicly, I agree. Personally, I think it’s chickenshit.”
“Keto diet? Is that like for chemo? Ohmygod do you have cancer?!??”
“I don’t have a circle on mine. Where’s my circle?”
“Don’t judge my printouts. Paper is a renewable resource.”
“The stapler has been compromised.”
“You know that one case? The one with the person from the company whose doing some crazy stuff?”
“I wasn’t fishing. I was lawyer-ing. Much less exciting.”
“For a priest, he’s kind of an asshole.”
“Brownies and bourbon? Sounds like my kinda party!”
“I got a bottle of whiskey calling my name so I may not be back here tomorrow morning or ever.”
war is a slippery slope.
what would you do? becomes what will you do? becomes my god, what have you done?
you meant so well.
At a calypso party in Harlem, 1944.
Photo: Weegee via International Center of Photography/Magnum Photos
