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You have SIX unread message(s).
[Text: Assfly] if you stopped burning down the kitchen we could afford to hire more henchmen and get better equipment and pay off bail and probably eat caviar every night
[Text: Assfly] i’m just sayin
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You, me, and military-grade incendiary equipment powerful enough to melt skin, flesh and bone. Doesn't just thinking about it make you squirm, hot stuff?
"Oh, you know just how to make a girls toes curl... Mmm."
I just got an imagine of Firefly winking. At Selina.
She's bothered.
So sorry for being absent. My muse had a bit of a lapse. I'll be back soon! Tagging those I owe.
Sparks || Playing-With-Firefly and DiedreVance
Packed into an unruly queue wasn't exactly how Diedre thought a movie interview would go, but she wasn't an expert. Really, really wasn't an expert. Even with practise she couldn't keep up with the other aspiring thespians. Clearly she was just... cut from a different cloth. A ripped piece of leather compared to their angora scarves.
Already they looked clique-y. Not the kind of clique she could click with, either. These were the kids she used to shake up for lunch money. One or two, literally. Just keep the script up and maybe they won't recognize you. All around her, effects crews and actors were rehearsing, arguing, moving heavy cables and repositioning lights. Some of the more likely stars stepped and ducked at exact timing, without so much as breaking stride. This was their element, not hers. Diedre scrunched her lip and gave the intended role another read.
This wasn't so bad. She could do this. Acting was just glorified lying. Lying wasn't that difficult. Diedre cleared her throat, tripped over a cable, and did her best to make it look intentional as she headed off where there was a bit more space. She had emphasis on all the wrong words and pauses in the worst of places. But there was something to be said for the effort, right?
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playing-with-firefly replied to your post: You’re being obdurate about defining “obdurate".
Convoluting.
Completely labyrinthine.
Terms used (cough by me cough cough) for Firefly's junk:
Bacon bits
Trouser flamethrower
Roasted weenie
Ow. Okay, ow. I’m never going to touch Gar’s stuff when he isn’t around again. Ow. Good thing I keep polysporin and bandages handy. Ow.
