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@dinothologist
"Uh... ex-excuse me?" Lowery whimpered, stopping the woman as she spoke. Redheads, his weakness. "I'm, uh, I'm in IT? Not... Claire's personal secretary so... I don't... know where she is, but hey, she likes to run this place like a sweat shop, so she'll be back. Soon. Usually."
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❝ I’m just surprised is all. ❞ They barely spoke when the park was operating, a year after and to see her again is more than Claire can expect from any of the scientists or people involved with the original disasters. It doesn’t make her any less happier to see her again. ❝ Not in a bad way. I promise. ❞
@dinothologist. ( starter call ).
CALLSIGN : BRANDY SARAH
She licks her lips in anticipation, a smile growing into a smirk. Sarah is an observer, and always has been; Greer’s reactions and behaviour hasn’t gone unnoticed. Sarah likes the way she makes someone so composed behave around her, even when the alcohol probably plays a part in this as well. “Hello,” she replies with a low purr, leaning closer to Greer. Ever the tease, she keeps enough distance between them to feel the warmth of her skin, just for a moment. The gap is closed rather quickly, with a hand on Greer’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She can taste the liquor on her lips, but wonders which is more intoxicating, just for a second. It’s a quick decision. Definitely Greer.
THE SCOTCH HAS FINISHED BURNING ON HER TONGUE by the time she leans against Sarah’s door, her peripherals blurry. The redhead is clear in front of her, however, and Greer is well aware that she is several miles away from her hotel and a good excuse to be at the other’s doorstep. The bionic legs give her the advantage of height -- height otherwise in her favor -- and she leans in and down, towering over the small American as she releases hot breath upon lips and cave to the desire. ❝ Sarah... ❞ she whispers, not objecting to the treatment, but putting her hands on Sarah’s hips. ❝ Let me come inside and I’ll greet you properly. ❞
So eight lesbians get snowed in at a cabin............
CLAIRE DOES NOT EXHAUST HERSELF. Her legs carry on in a brisk glide; walk, not run. Heels strike the too-smooth pavement like a thunderclap.
She is pristine; undaunted. Sheen of perspiration only turns her skin to alabaster in the sunlight. But it’s her eyes, moonish, rheumy, which belies her composure. Claire inhales, stares owlishly, relieved and alarmed all at once. Sarah Harding, once lost, yet found, dirt stuck to the ends of her trousers, a single errant leaf tangled in red hair,
“ Miss Harding ------ you ! missed your orientation, disappeared for three hours, what were you ---- where ? ” / @dinothologist
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SARAH.
Sarah could feel the accusatory stare of the notebook peeking out of her backpack as she sat on her sister’s bed. She was supposed to study, but spending the afternoon with her little sister always seemed more important. They didn’t even live in the same city, and yet Sarah spent the weekends visiting her whenever she could. What were a few extra shifts for a 4-hour plane ride to see Jess? Occasionally, her father paid for the tickets, and even attempted to spend some time with her. It never lasted very long.
“Joke’s on them. There are a lot of cool things you can do inside.” Sarah scrunched up her nose and picked up her backpack, pulling out a copy of ‘King Solomon’s Ring’ she brought along for her sister. “I thought you might like that.”
Being grounded had, in Jess’ opinion, been wholly unjustified. It was not as if she had gotten hurt (nor in such a case, would she have been getting grounded in the ambulance) but her mother had been unwavering in her strict punishment. No matter how crestfallen the seven-year-old had looked, it hadn’t been enough to warrant release of the new guidelines for her behavior. And to Jess, who adored climbing in the trees of the new estates, the prospect of seven weeks (seven!) leashed to the indoors seemed a fate worse than death. Or at least Math class.
At Sarah’s response, however, her head popped up from the pillows. “Yeah?” Eyes shone brightly with mischief and wonder, a dire need to see her enclosure broken. As they skated across the cover of the book, she released a soft squeal and smiled eagerly. “You remembered!” Not that Sarah ever would forget; she rarely did, unlike Jess’ mother and their father, who frequently misremembered at the most inopportune moments.
@dinothologist is asleep post about how much you love her
@dinothologist
“Would I be wrong in guessing you like scotch? On the rocks?” It’s just a guess of course, though she’s already got a tab started with the barkeep, likely to add onto it long before the night ends. It is, after all, her suggestion to be here for a good part of the evening - her treat. “Or have I misjudged?”
