Next To Normal Ask Meme: Send Me One To See How My Muse Will React
“It’s 4 in the morning, is everything ok?”
“Some days I think I’m dying, but I’m really only trying to get through.”
“I think the house is spinning.”
“So, we’ll try again and eventually we’ll get it right.”
“Not a very exact science, is it?”
“I’m trying to tell you I love you.”
“I can be perfect for you.”
“I miss the pain.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“He’s been dead 16 years.”
“This is fucked.”
“I know you’re hurting. I am, too.”
“Can you tell me what it is you’re afraid of?”
“Can I touch you?”
“Are you wanting all that she can’t give?”
“I am the one who won’t walk away.”
“I wish I could fly, I’d fly far away from here.”
“I love you as much as I can.”
“I’m your worst fear, you’ll find it in me.”
“I need you to need me.”
“It’s not going to get better, is it?”
“Are you nervous?”
“What’s your story?”
“Did you see my parents out there?”
“How could she leave me on my own?”
“Why didn’t you take me with you?”
“You’re kidding, right? That’s bullshit.”
“What makes you think I’d lose my mind for you?”
“Tell me why I wait through the night.”
“I can’t get through this alone.”
“Am I feeling what I think I’m feeling?”
“I’m good as gone.”
“You don’t remember any of this?”
“I thought you might call.”
“Don’t say that we’re over.”
“I couldn’t give a flying fuck what’s normal.”
“Your life has kind of sucked, I think.”
“Won’t anything be better than before?”
“Your son is gone forever though.”
“There’s something missing.”
“Let me know you again.”
“Why do I get denied?”
“Where’d you get that?”
“How could I ever forget?”
Why would you want to remember the things that hurt you?”
“Please, tell me his name.”
“Something next to normal would be okay.”
“You look like a star.”
“Can you leave it behind?”
“I might end up crazy.”
“So anyway I’m leaving.”
“It’s time for me to go.”
“I am the one who saved you.”
“I know you know who I am.”
“We need some light.”
“It’s the price we pay to feel.”
Supposed to be dead || Renegadecaptain
Dean gave a nod. “Sounds like a plan, Cap.” he agreed. He gave her a smirk. “You just wait and see, sweetheart.” He commented. If there was one thing that he was good at, it was aiming a gun.
He frowned slightly. “I’m gonna stick with blaster.” That was a lot easier for his mind to understand. He understood the concept about the Mercy gun, but it was a lot easier to refer to it as a blaster as it was easier to understand that way. “Alright, suppose that’s a good way to do things. Just not when it comes to werewolves.”
He looked around when he heard the Captain yelling seeing that a man with bulging eyes and fangs had talked her down to the ground. “Son of a bitch!” He spat. Three werewolves? What was there an entire pack roaming around the woods? He hoped that that wasn’t the case, if so then they were so screwed. He aimed the blaster, trying to get a clear shot while the Captain was lying underneath the thing. “I can’t get a clear shot!” He called back.
He aimed the blaster up at the werewolf as it backed away from the Captain, the tiny letter opener sticking out of its neck. He didn’t hesitate to fire the blaster, not missing the kickback which sent a bolt of pain up his shoulder. However his aim hold true and the hit met its target. “Son of a bitch.” He commented as the werewolf froze. “You weren’t kidding about the recoil.” He walked over to the Captain, his hand brushing over the sigil before reaching down for her hand. “Need a hand?”
With a grunt, the Captain pulled herself up with Dean’s hand and shook the dirt from her pants, “Thanks.” She walked over to the frozen beast and removed the letter opener from his neck. Her eyes filled with disgust as she looked at the dark blood dripping from it and she flung some of it to the ground, “Cute.”
Without further hesitation, she grabbed a firm grip on the handle of the blade and plunged it into the werewolf’s chest cavity and kicked it to the ground.
The Captain pulled her disarmed gun from the floor and stepped back as she pointed to the other two monsters, “Watch yourself!” Turning the safety off of her own gun, she shot at the nearest werewolf and bent down to remove the letter opener from the dead one’s chest.
Cautiously, she tossed the blade to Dean who was now only a few feet in front of her since she had moved, and tried her best to aim for the other. He was clearly pissed, howling over the death of his comrade as he charged forward.
She shot at the charging werewolf several times, missing him by a few centimeters every time before she grew frustrated and the Mercy gun was taking longer to recharge with every shot. Being unable to shoot now, the Captain frozen in near panic and her eyes scanned the area looking for anything else that could help her. As a last resort she bent down and picked up a large rock and threw it, barely hitting it on the nos hard enough for it to slow down.
"Werewolves, huh?" she called to Dean as she paced backwards, " I’m more of a banshee person, really."
[Witty Title] || Captain & Bowties
“Barcelonian hounds!?” the Doctor repeated, stymied.
He lifted up one of the lids and glared down at the tiny, squirmy, noseless creature inside. The pup looked up at him and licked its lips, a low growl emitting from its throat.
Every bit as dangerous as they were adorable, Barcelonian hounds had long been a hot commodity on the intergalactic black market. They went for millions of credits, but they were a rare find, since they were, in a word, deadly. And once these pups had grown a bit, they’d be even worse.
That was all bad enough, considering the fact that they were innocent (if vicious) living creatures, and should not have been being sold and traded like pieces of furniture in the first place, but to bring them to Earth? If even one of those puppies got loose, the entire planet could be thrown into chaos.
And the damage they could do to his and the Captain’s ships? Unthinkable.
In fact, he and the Captain were going to have to be painfully cautious in dealing with the pups at all, since a single drop of Barcelonian hound drool on bare skin was enough to leave a permanent scar.
He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Captain,” he muttered, grinding his teeth. “Captain, what are we going to do?” He began pacing nervously, up and down the abandoned warehouse. “This is bad. This is bad. This is extremely not good.” He made himself stop and take a deep breath, turning back to his friend. “Captain, who would hire you to move these creatures? And, more importantly, where were you meant to move them to? Sending these pups anywhere but back to Barcelona, where they came from, is essentially an act of war.”
He rubbed his hands together, trying to think his way out of an impossible situation. Finally, he sighed, resigned. “We’ve got no choice, Captain. We’ve got to take the cargo. But not to the customer. No. Back to Barcelona, where they belong. Then we’re returning your…client’s…money, and teaching him a very important lesson about the sanctity of all living things. Deal?” He looked back at the still-moving wooden crates with an expression of distaste. “But first…back to the ship. We’re going to need gloves.”
The Captain looked down at the puppies and tapped her foot against the pavement. Was this cargo really worth it anymore? She should have known better than to think this job was going to be easy.
"Hold on," she pulled out her pocket companion from the breast cup of her dress and opened the client folder, "Guys name is Giovanni, he wanted me to meet him on at…" she looked back at the handheld computer, "Alpha Canis One…" She brought her fist up in frustration and lightly smacked the computer against her forehead.
"They’re Canisians…they very well may be trying to start a war." This was obviously a major flaw in the Captain’s order of logic because had she taken the time to look into her clientele, she probably wouldn’t have agreed to the job. The Canisians were a very brutish race of humanoids strongly associated with war. Out of all of the warlike cultures the Captain had encountered, they were among her least favorites.
"I agree with you," she hummed, looking now to the dogs once again, "Except that even returning them would be an act of war." The Captain’s grip grew tight around her computer as she tried to force herself not to throw it on the ground, "If we give them to the Canisians, they will use them as a weapon but if we don’t give them to the Canisians, then they’re going to attack and get the dogs elsewhere." These puppies truly were the perfect weapon, truth be told. If played correctly, they could ideally be completely untraceable, especially if they were taken into a large trading post.
"We don’t have time for gloves. We need to hide these dogs." She removed her capelet and tossed it to the Doctor, "You can use that the pick one up—just cover it’s mouth." Taking a deep breath, she reached into the crate with her left hand and removed a puppy by the scruff of its neck. Its head twitched around with a scared snarl but the Captain just shook her head. Looking at the wound on he right hand she wiped the dried blood on her skirt and picked up another dog. It, surprisingly, sat calmly as it hung from her bleeding hand. "Get that one, I don’t want to hold these things for very long." She looked down at them and almost smiled—they were insanely adorable for something so dangerous. "Toss the crate on its side—we can make it look like they got out." She was thankful that the ground was concrete because even if they had gotten out, the puppies wouldn’t have left any tracks and that was one less problem to handle.
"We need to get out of here."