triangularity | Open RP post for Maggie Garcia

Open RP post for Maggie Garcia

Because we chose to tell the truth
(The cool of age, the rage of youth)
And stand against the lies of old
(The whispers soft, the tales untold)
We find ourselves the walking dead
(The loves unkept, the words unsaid)
And in the crypt of all we've known
(The broken blade, the breaking stone)
We know that we were in the right
(The coming dawn, the ending night).
So here is where we stop the lies.
The time is come. We have to Rise.

—From Dandelion Mine, the blog of Magdalene Grace Garcia, August 7, 2041.

Bring me your plots, or send a message to

tricia868 if you want to talk things out first!

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"I only touch the interest from my trust fund, but that should cover a few things, even if the house laundry didn't take care of it." She does make most of her day to day living off of her writing now, which is... nice. It feels gratifyingly earned in a way that her parents' money doesn't. Maggie still allows herself some luxuries, though.

She shakes your head. "Just you. Everyone has finally finished trickling out from last week's movie night." It did take a week for the last straggler or two to leave, which is exactly how Maggie likes things.

"More than fine." Dorena waved a hand. She probably wouldn't need anything if Maggie's laundry were that good.

"I'll keep you company, then. I'm told I can be quite entertaining when I put my mind to it." She gave Maggie a cheeky grin.

"I'll feed you in exchange for the entertainment," Maggie promised, grinning back. "I can always use more of that, and you're creative enough that I'm sure it will be interesting. It gets so quiet here without company."

She beckoned Dorena after her, into the house, which smelled like the promised dinner.

"Quiet is not something I'm known for," Dorena said, following Maggie. "And I'm known to be quite entertaining and creative if I do say so my- What is that smell? That's wonderful. Feed me, Seymour."

"You can hardly avoid getting fed here. I like cooking, and I even grow fruits and vegetables out back." Which was part of how she lured people into staying for longer than a movie marathon. Maggie enjoyed playing hostess.

She led the way through the house, a comfortable sort of cluttered rather than impeccably neat, and into her kitchen. "Wine?" she asked with a small smile.

"Wine would be lovely. As would fruits and veggies." Dorena said cheerfully.

"I like your kitchen. Mine is cramped and darker. Then again, I rarely use it." She shrugged. Most of her money went to cameras and microphones.

"I try to always have mouths to feed." Technically she did, regardless of lack of houseguests, but the dogs were different. "It helps having a kitchen I like working in. Red alright?"

She pulled out a good bottle of wine. Not quite as nice as her parents served at their functions, but then, Maggie tended to be a little more down to earth in her house.

"If we watch a move later, any preferences?" Movies: another thing that was almost unavoidable in Maggie's house if you spent any amount of time there.

Despite all of the reasons Dorena might be expected to know about wine, she'd never developed a very good palate. She recognized the name and made an appreciative noise. "More than fine.

"Hmm. How do you feel about keeping the insects normal sized and going more for demons and ghosts?"

"Infinitely doable. I like horror movies. I don't intend to torment you with them." Maggie tilts her head and smiles. "How would I lure you back again if I did?"

She pulls the corkscrew out of a drawer and opens up the bottle of wine, then gets down a couple of plates to start dishing out dinner.

Dorena laughs happily. "It's been awhile since anyone has lured me anywhere. I might not recognize it anymore."

She accepts her plate eagerly. "So, Thirteen Ghosts? Ghost Ship? Too new?"

Maggie grins. That's an excellent laugh. Better than she remembers, possibly because Dorena is happier than she remembers. "Well, then I'll just have to be very clear about it. And to do it more than once, so that you can re-acclimate yourself."

"Oh, I don't know, I think we can let them slide at 35 years old. Every horror movie is classic by now." Because they don't make them anymore. "We could watch both, unless you're in a hurry to get anywhere."

"No hurrying here," Dorena shook her head, smiling. "Both is good."

She hopped up on her toes and gave Maggie a quick kiss on the cheek in passing.

(OOC: Stop here and pick up elsewhere?)

After a couple days of living with Maggie, Dorena was getting used to having the dogs around. She settled onto the couch with her laptop and was unsurprised when she was surrounded by two or three bulldogs requesting skritches. Absently she gave them as she logged in and checked her email and news feeds.

She was still going through her routine when Maggie came in. "Good morning or whatever time of day it is." She smiled winningly.

"Don't you know that asking what time of day it is in this house is like swearing? Worse, come to think of it. Profanity is welcomed, whereas time is a four letter word." She grinned before grabbing a tablet off the table and settling down on the couch next to Dorena.

Then Maggie leaned over to offer a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have you eaten yet, or should I make us something once I check my email?"

"I could eat," Dorena said, smiling. "I did my bloody recording for the damned morning already. Apparently I used up less of my profanity than I'd thought." She scooted a little closer to Maggie on the couch, not meaning breakfast right that second.

If Dorena is going to make staying on the couch so appealing, breakfast can certainly wait a little longer. Maggie never eats before getting online anyway; she has priorities. She balances her tablet on one knee and leans her head on Dorena's shoulder.

"Is profanity a limited resource? I wonder how one replenishes it, if so," she murmurs as she pulls up the site statistics for a quick glance before moving on to her inbox.

"I could make a few comments about fucking." Dorena said, leaning against Maggie's head and landing a peck on her hair. "It seems the source of most naughtiness."

"But talking about fucking further depletes your profanity stores." Inspiration strikes, and Maggie grins slowly. "If you use up all your profanity talking about fucking, does actually fucking restore it? That's a theory that ought to be tested at some point."

"Well, of course I have more after sex. It means someone's given a fuck. How else would it work?" Dorena laughed lightly and nudged Maggie. "But yes, experimentation may be needed."

Maggie laughed too, sliding an arm around Dorena and pulling her even closer. "You know I give plenty of fucks about you, right? And I'm fond of experiments, so long as they don't involve a laboratory." She ran away from the family business.

Tilting her head, she kissed Dorena's neck lightly. "Let me know if you ever run short and need to replenish your store of swears."

After Teleios, Duke gets sent back to Haven where he's taken and twisted around to a point that he can hardly recover. He feels those troubles- the aether flowing through him, begging to explode out of him at any time. It's- Duke has no idea how he's going to survive it all. Neither Audrey or Nathan know anything about Teleios so he assumes he's just- It was some Trouble that only he remembers because of the black tar flowing through his veins- through his body.

He assumes it wasn't real at all until- until one day a Rift opens up. It's a tear between universes, and it drops Maggie Garcia on Duke Crocker's dock as he's taking a drink of whiskey in the early morning.

Duke stares, dumbfounded.

"...Maggie?" He moves forward when he has the sense enough to react, kneeling beside her form. "You okay? ...you real?"

Maggie's been put through the wringer since she left Teleios too, and she hisses with pain as she hits the dock. Then her eyes snap open at the familiar voice.

"Same question to you," she says, voice shaking slightly. "And don't lie to me. I've had entirely too much morphine this week. I'd lay even odds on you being a hallucination, and I'll believe whatever you tell me anyway."

It's been less than a week since she was shot. Maggie is recovering. The bullet missed her lungs, and she didn't lose quite enough blood to amplify into a zombie, but it was a very near thing. Since then she's lost a friend and learned exactly what the massive conspiracy that cost her two people she was in love with was trying to hide. She pushes herself upright so she's at least sitting before she asks, "Hug me please, but be careful about it."

"Well, seems like now would be the best time to tell you I'm the most famous man in my world, and everyone loves me," Duke says with a little smirk.

He decides to answer the question with physical touch even if he's worried he might end up hurting her more. He winds his arms around her, pressing his fingertips into her back. His touch is gentle and careful, and he shakes his head, because he still can't wrap his head around the fact that-

She's here. She knows him. Teleios must have been real.

"What the hell happened to you?"

She huffs out a very small laugh. Even on morphine, there are limits to how far her belief will stretch.

Despite how gentle he is, a soft, pained sound escapes Maggie as Duke pulls her close. She latches on quickly enough that he doesn't have time to second guess the gesture because of it.

"I was shot by a CDC strike team because their bosses wanted to keep a secret," Maggie tells him bluntly, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's healing. I'll be fine."

Physically, at least. She's still shaken by losing Becks. By the knowledge of exactly what truth all those people were killed to hide. She's careful not to put much pressure on her chest, but Maggie clings to Duke as tightly as she can manage, her fingertips pressing harder than his.

"Are you alright?" The quick version of the answer might be best. Get Maggie back to bed and then talk to her about the details of what's gone on in Haven.

Duke frowns as he holds her tightly, and he nearly does second guess his gesture. He almost lets go of her altogether until she latches on tighter, and he can't quite get himself to pull away then even if he is afraid he's hurting her more.

"Jesus," he whispers, and then he shakes his head at the question. It's less to answer it and more because, it's far more important for him to get her somewhere safe- to get her rested before he tries to delve into the shithole Haven has become.

He winds his arms around her, lifting her up to his chest. "We gotta get you somewhere safe, Mag. C'mon."

Duke moves with her in his arms towards the Gull.

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Open RP post for Maggie Garcia

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