1/4/06 03:11 pm - andmydog 'Dog wanders into the conference room in a cloud of clove smoke and whiskey, a Santa hat perched precariously on her head and a bulging bag over one shoulder. She drops the bag next to her chair and sprawls comfortably on the soft leather seat, one leg slung over the arm."Yeah, yeah, I'm late, so fucking sue me," she grumbles, lighting yet another cigarette. One-handed, she loosens the drawstring of the bag, then grins Evil Grin number 17*."So. Who wants to tell Santa what they want for Giftmas?"*Evil Grin #17: thinking dirty thoughts in the spirit of giving.
11/14/05 12:08 am - hibem - Memo Date: Mon, 14 Nov 2005 00:13:59 -0600 (CST)From: teddybeartrap@pureEVL.netSubj: Company Xmas PartyWith the wise council of General KA, I have determined that our next step in fighting the terror, opression and adverb overuse of the Graceless shall be to STEAL THEIR XMAS during a heartwarming televised Very Special Presentation. To this end, we'll need a sleigh, a new jingle-bell-encrusted harness for Zombiecock, an antler to tie on his head, some new video and pirate broadcasting equipment and skimpy red and white outfits. And large quantities of booze for the bonfire and afterparty. Oh, and a cunning plan might be good as well. Input? <3 Your Evil Overlady
| | 9/13/05 10:12 pm - new_kate - Memo 1. In answer to repeated queries, all Kanzeon cloning experiments are still suspended indefinitely on the orders from Her Evilness hibem. No, no exceptions, though bribes will be happily accepted.2. The production of 3rd level clones is halted till further notice as they interfere with calibration of the purple detector. 3. Okay, who took my new piercing gun and when can I see the pictures? Share!4. Once again, if I announce the water cooler surprise day in advance, it will not be a surprise. 5. Following multiple requests, Cabana Bot now comes with a tea brewing feature. Yes, it does cause all other functions to halt temporarily, but I'm working on it.6. Please do not feed the dinosaurs, they seem to be allergic to peanuts. 7. Seriously, ladies, why do I even have to warn you not to pet the Zombiecock?Questions, death threats, indecent proposals? *eyebrow wiggle* |
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9/8/05 08:17 pm - hibem - Scene: War RoomA large, round chamber of bare basalt covered by black velvet hangings and sleek consoles with banks of screens, flashing lights and reel-to-reels spinning anachronistically. Stars can be seen through the round skylight, above. A large, round table of dark wood set with yet more screens and buttons is surrounded by high-backed, black-leather upholstered chairs. One of the pair of immense doors, carved with tantric murals, opens.hibem strides in wearing knee-high black leather boots, olive jodhpurs, and a black leather bustier. Her dark hair is pulled back in a severe bun, and crowned with a WWII-era olive cap. She's carrying her riding crop under one arm and riffling through a manila folder of loose papers. Her 5-clone trots in after her in tiny cut-off jeans, his shiny chain leash dangling from his leather slave collar.hibem nudges the 5 into the highest-backed chair with her crop and seats herself primly in his lap. She punches a button on the table-top, activating the Lair-wide PA. A pleasant chime echoes down the hallways, followed by her deep voice.**"Everyone, please report to the War Room. Now."**[This is a planning and logistics RP post, locked to members. Please report in IC (preferably with the assumption that I've just interrupted whatever you were doing). Anything goes.]
andmydog 'Dog wanders into the conference room in a cloud of clove smoke and whiskey, a Santa hat perched precariously on her head and a bulging bag over one shoulder. She drops the bag next to her chair and sprawls comfortably on the soft leather seat, one leg slung over the arm."Yeah, yeah, I'm late, so fucking sue me," she grumbles, lighting yet another cigarette. One-handed, she loosens the drawstring of the bag, then grins Evil Grin number 17*."So. Who wants to tell Santa what they want for Giftmas?"*Evil Grin #17: thinking dirty thoughts in the spirit of giving.
hibem strides in wearing knee-high black leather boots, olive jodhpurs, and a black leather bustier. Her dark hair is pulled back in a severe bun, and crowned with a WWII-era olive cap. She's carrying her riding crop under one arm and riffling through a manila folder of loose papers. Her 5-clone trots in after her in tiny cut-off jeans, his shiny chain leash dangling from his leather slave collar.