He Promised Me a Summer Wedding

I keep seeing the same faces.

[Wanders Cardiff sans coat. Shivers slightly.]

[just drifted off on the couch]

[wandering Roald Dahl Plass without coat]

Mun's been spastic lately with a lot of things. Maybe this'll be her kick in the pants about RP...

Six Impossible Things :: my thread

I don't like this headache developin'.

Owen Harper, where've you... [has ear]

I think I forgot my keys.

[standing, mug in hand, expression blank]

[On couch, asleep. Half under blanket.]

posting again due to more muses out and about... at least one of them needs more friends...

Updated my 'verse explanation post, to add Citrus-Free to the mix. It's about time I did, as I've been primarily playing Katie there in sixwordstories  for the last four months if at all. I really should get back into relativespace . Really. Just gotta watch a little Torchwood and Doctor Who to get back into character, I think... *pokes muse* Yeah. gonna have to do that. she's awful quiet.

Okay! see you laters! 

*sloppy salute* Kate OUT!

Katie managed to get Owen to ship her packages for John and Rodney, she was worried they wouldn't arrive to John's mysterious tropical military base in time for Christmas because she'd had a few days of being blank and ended up remembering to send them off a day or two later than John's recommended shipping date. Now she hoped at least that they would get there by the end of January.

But unbeknownst to her, Owen had secret government connections, and through Torchwood, he 'fast-rate shipped' her gifts to Colorado Springs and the SGC in time to send it with the rest of the expedition's Christmas Holiday packages to Atlantis on the Daedalus.

A medium-sized wooden shipping crate emblazoned with the Torchwood logo is shipped (if scanned, the whole crate was emitting a form of an exotic low-level radiation deemed "Harmless To Humans Only" by Torchwood officials)--inside are three plain-brown-paper-wrapped packages:

( One package labeled 'for everyone'. )


( One package addressed to John. )


( One package addressed to Rodney. )


( Also enclosed in each of the boys' packages. )

What d'those two need want for Christmas?

Citrus-free

( ooc )

Heh. Of course I like to go with everything!

I taste like Peanut Butter. I am one of the most blendable flavours; I go with sweet, I go with sour, I go with bland, I go with anything. I am practical and good company, but have something of a tendency to hang around when I'm not wanted, unaware that my presence is not welcome. What Flavour Are You?

( If I was not Peanut butter I would be Vanilla:  )

I know I haven't been active, but it's hard when your IC Significant Other is absent--give me a PM if imatwat starts posting again--Katie misses her Owen!

Leave a comment and I will:

a) Tell you why I friended you.
b) Associate you with something - a song, a color, a photo, etc.
c) Tell you something I like about you.
d) Tell you a memory I have of you.
e) Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
f) Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
g) in return, you must post this on your own lj.

Nothing surprised me here, really. Glad to see I'm still getting an A average though.

She told John to meet her at Roald Dahl Plass, in front of the Water Tower sculpture at six. She had nearly forgotten what time she’d said, and thought she might be late for her own planned evening out.  Copious sticky-notes strewn about the flat had variations on “6 pm—Millennium Centre—John and Rodney. Jubilee Pizza + Gower Pub.”  Owen had been a little annoyed at the sea of multicolored notes leading up to the day, but understood her anxiety to not forget the event.  Katie was finally going to meet her first US Air Force Colonel and his scientist…  Boyfriend?  Companion? Best mate? Partner?  Whatever John would finally settle on defining his relationship with Rodney as, Katie was fine with it. The two men were together, that’s what mattered.

The cold October overcast almost obscured the bright grapefruit-pink sunset that managed to just peek through the medium-gray clouds.  Katie was relieved when she saw John standing at the edge of the oval basin, looking up at the 70-foot tall stainless steel monolith, water cascading all the way down its impressively lit height. Rodney wasn’t with him, Katie noted sadly. She had wanted to meet the man who could apparently make John’s life both worth living and miserable at the same time.

She pulled her deep-purple peacoat tighter around herself and walked toward the Colonel, also glad she had thought to wear a scarf, hat, and gloves, all in a coordinated salmon-pink knit. Black boot-cut jeans and a pair of purple high-top Chuck Taylor All-Stars peeked out from under the long coat, feet kept warm inside the thin canvas shoes by thick woolen socks.

“John!” She called out, smiling and waving as she approached, her pink scarf wavering behind her in the breeze that came gusting in from Cardiff Bay.

Six pm, by the Water Tower (You can’t miss it!)

Verse: Citrus-free