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OOC contact/HMD
May. 19th, 2024 06:30 pmThis is the post where you tell me things you think about Morrison. I know it can be hard to tell if someone is playing an original character properly, but I don't grow as a writer without hearing peoples' thoughts and feelings about my character and the things I do with him, so please feel free to tell me. All comments are anon-enabled and IP tracking is off, for your comfort.
OOC contact or queries permitted here as well, or if you'd prefer to keep it private, feel free to PM at any time.
OOC contact or queries permitted here as well, or if you'd prefer to keep it private, feel free to PM at any time.
Morrison is, largely, a creature of habit. He has his routines, the places he's comfortable; work, Rudy's, the gym, home. There aren't many things that get him to break that routine, but he can eventually be talked into trying something new. And this occasion? Well, it's worth it. Probably. At least he feels obligated enough to turn up, to accept the invitation to New York for a weekend, just this once. After all, it's not every day one's college roommate gets married.
Although, he reflects, he had hoped Corinne's taste in bars had grown up and maybe developed a sense of taste. This is probably the third club of the night, and he's not twenty-one anymore, which means Morrison is currently holding up a wall, a drink in hand as he visibly winces his way through this DJ's set list.
"Is this guy seriously the best they could get? Because I swear, if he plays one more dubstep remix of Caacada I'm throwing his decks out the window and jumping after."
The words aren't said to anyone in particular, but they are just audible enough for anyone nearby to hear.
Although, he reflects, he had hoped Corinne's taste in bars had grown up and maybe developed a sense of taste. This is probably the third club of the night, and he's not twenty-one anymore, which means Morrison is currently holding up a wall, a drink in hand as he visibly winces his way through this DJ's set list.
"Is this guy seriously the best they could get? Because I swear, if he plays one more dubstep remix of Caacada I'm throwing his decks out the window and jumping after."
The words aren't said to anyone in particular, but they are just audible enough for anyone nearby to hear.
yolo is a lifestyle
May. 10th, 2018 10:24 pmIt's yet another planet, in yet another system, populated by yet another race of people who look perfectly human yet seem to have never heard of the word or the planet Earth. Sometimes, in his bleaker moments, Morrison is pretty sure this is just some sort of terrifying fever dream his dying brain is showing him; other times when he can be more amused by it all, he thinks maybe there was something to all those old Star Trek episodes where the aliens were basically all bipeds painted primary colors.
Right now, at least, it's actually almost comforting. He's found a great restaurant serving food that's almost but not quite as good as Trudy's, his favorite place back home; he's found a great bookstore with plenty of material to help him as he attempts to give himself a crash course on triage and diagnostics. He's even found a nice, quiet out of the way place in a public park where no one can possibly bother him to sit and enjoy the lovely spring weather while he reads. After all, in a few days they'll be back on the ship, back running for their lives, and he's not going to have space or peace and quiet or even real gravity. May as well enjoy the time without shipmates while he can, especially the loud, stabby ones.
Which is why anyone happening upon him will find an astonishingly relaxed looking Morrison, laying on his back on the grass in a patch of sun, holding a book up and reading. Be a shame to ruin that.
Right now, at least, it's actually almost comforting. He's found a great restaurant serving food that's almost but not quite as good as Trudy's, his favorite place back home; he's found a great bookstore with plenty of material to help him as he attempts to give himself a crash course on triage and diagnostics. He's even found a nice, quiet out of the way place in a public park where no one can possibly bother him to sit and enjoy the lovely spring weather while he reads. After all, in a few days they'll be back on the ship, back running for their lives, and he's not going to have space or peace and quiet or even real gravity. May as well enjoy the time without shipmates while he can, especially the loud, stabby ones.
Which is why anyone happening upon him will find an astonishingly relaxed looking Morrison, laying on his back on the grass in a patch of sun, holding a book up and reading. Be a shame to ruin that.
