insertmeathere | Does this count as a Meme? Probably not but who cares!?

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Does this count as a Meme? Probably not but who cares!?

Indecisive Meme!

So! Al has a problem and I'm sure many of you share the same problem.

So many muses to pick from, only one spot to app with!

And so here's the game

1. Post with a muse you have that you've been curious about bringing to Trans, maybe set up a scene if you feel perky.
2. Get tags from the current muses of Trans_9!
3. Or get tags from muses who will be joining Trans_9 soon!
4. Or maybe tag around with your potential muse in other musethreads.
5. ???
6. Cake!
~~7.There is no cake~~

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Marie Schrader is appalled, absolutely appalled, at the state of this ship. All gooey and disgusting with sleeping caverns that feel like someone sinuses and those tentacles that have to be breaching some sort of sexual harassment code, if the arrogant goons on this ship have bothered to implement a sexual harassment regulation.

So she's sitting in the Sensoriums, which she's made to look exactly like a charming little Georgetown apartment, surrounded by purple things. Making coffee, as if she's back home. Lining up the Splenda packets in a perfectly formatted order and dumping them into the coffee cups one by one, as if she were back home.

She would much rather be back home.

KOS-MOS marched her way into the room, looking around at her new surroundings, then fixing her gaze on Marie.

"I require the use of this facility."

"What the - pardon my language - hell are you supposed to be?" Marie asks as she turns a corner and narrowly avoids tripping over the white thing on the ground. Then she notices the grey kid, and realizes she's not sure which of the two she'ssupposed to be talking to. They may both be sentient, or neither, and who the hell knows on this ship god she is so frustrated with everything on this stupid spaceship.

"Oh?" Marie says, giving KOS-MOS an impudent look. "Do you have a reservation? Do you have a warrant? Do you have the rights to just up and seize the room I'm using like some sort of uncouth militia?"

She puts a hand on her hip. "Because I'm pretty sure you don't, and that the rules of finders-keepers apply here. So I'd think you'd better leave."

Good day, Cheetor. There is now, next to the cybernetic cheetah, a terrified middle-aged woman pressed against a tree, considering whether or not to mace the damn thing after she nearly tripped into it on her relaxing stroll. Maybe if she doesn't move, it'll just...go away....

Or maybe she should just mace it.

She does.

"The Federation government does not recognize 'Finders keepers' as a valid legal claim. Furthermore, I require these facilities for fine-tuning of my battle systems. You are an unarmed, untrained civilian and your contribution to the current war effort is negligible. I have concluded that no reservation or warrant is required for the requisition of this resource."

In fact, KOS-MOS is now working on transforming part of the wonderful apartment into a metal-plated ship corridor.

Cheetor has stirred from his being a lazy-ass cat to curiously peer at the freaking-out woman. He was going to say something, but then OH DEAR GOD OW THAT BURNS OW OW OW. The catbot yelps and recoils, shaking his head and sputtering--geeze, it's in his nose too.

"OW! Geeze, lady, what's the deal?! I didn't do anything to you!"

"Excuse me?" Marie immediately starts asserting her own will into the Sensoriums' projections. EVERYTHING IS PURPLE, KOS-MOS. "I'm a licensed, registered, educated medical professional and my contribution to the war effort will be every bit as vital as your, your, whatever the hell you're going to be doing."

Well, now that the giant robo-cat is talking, Marie's just freaking out more. And smacking at Cheetor with her bare hands, because if she's anything, she's feisty and completely lacking in common sense. "What the hell are you?"

Volanz startles mightily, caving in one of the walls of the vessel on the wheel. Oh dammit there that goes. Completely unsalvageable.

He's not sure what to say and hesitates awkwardly for a moment. "What, never seen a troll before?" he manages after just a second too long, using wiping his hands off on a rag as an excuse to avoid eye contact.

"Nah, not on every world. I grew their firsts, and they say they're delicious."

Applejack's awfully proud of that. She smiles at the little sapling, giving it its little sip of water.

"You should see some of what we've got around here. That slop's just for starters!" She made a little face to show her approval of this...meal.

Well, it is now purple ship's corridor. KOS-MOS doesn't care about colors.

"There are adequate medical personnel aboard this ship without your presence. Additionally, you are not currently engaged in medical training. Recreational use of this facility is low priority."

Oh, look, now there are monsters (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6QoUu6Y-oM&feature=related) gallivanting about in the simulation.

Well, that much is obvious to him! Cheetor opts to turn and run off, though he'll not go far, and jump up on a large rock to put some distance between himself and the crazy lady. "I'm a Cybertronian!"

"No sign of her. I figure she's still in the pods. But we got Wash, Inara and the Captain now." Jayne wondered just why he had become the information guy for newcomers?

Marie has no idea what that is, but it sounds like a dinosaur. "Those aren't even real!" she sputters.

"No. I haven't. Should I have?" she asks, completely nonplussed.

Cheetor sputters indignantly, and bats at his eyes and face. That stuff still stings...!

Time to gather his wits, though - he draws a calming breath, then transforms to robot mode - at least these eyes and nose aren't on fire. He crouches down on top of the rock, then raps his knuckles against his chest. "I'm pretty sure I'm real - I'm here, you tripped over me, and I sure as anything felt that slaggin' stuff you sprayed in my face!"

Purple...and with little filigree cast-iron gates in the shape of wine-leaves and also marble countertops that are also purple and STOP IT KOS-MOS YOU ARE THE WORST INTERIOR DECORATOR EVER THOSE MONSTERS ARE RUINING THE FENG SHUI.

Oh hey wait maybe she should be afraid of those.

Marie starts shrieking. Occasionally she intersperses her unintelligible yelling with "you put those away right now!"

Oh great now he's turning into a robot WHAT IS HER LIFE

Marie grabs her car keys out of her purse (very considerate of Stacy to bring those with her!) and holds the house key in her fist like a very small and unintimidating blade. She swallows and fixes Cheetor with an obviously freaked-out but surprisingly stubborn glare. "If you lay a finger on me, my husband works for the federal government!"

...back on her Earth. Which is not here. Well.

Maybe she should have thought this through.

Hagrid did as he was told, figuring the reason why would come soon enough. And there it was, sending Fang cowering around his ankles all over again.

"Fancy bit o' Transfiguration yeh've got," Hagrid observed, sounding mightily impressed. New discoveries, and probably some wonderfully sized fangs too.

"Rubeus Hagrid. It's a great pleasure to meet yeh. Have yeh some friends?"

By 'friends', of course, he meant similar people. That he could also go meet. After he was done with the first, of course.

Clearly you meant 'put them down', Marie. Which KOS-MOS is happy to do! The nanomachines at KOS-MOS's disposal form large twin gatling guns in her arms, which she fires at the creatures swarming the area. A few of them disintegrate in the weapons fire; some of them explode. One of them lands on Marie's table.

Face, meet palm.

A heavy, heavy sigh leaves the Maximal, and he raises his hands in a blocking, please-quit-freaking-out gesture. "Lady. I don't have any intentions of hurting you, alright? I wasn't doing anything but taking a nap in the grass when you showed up and promptly wigged out. I don't know what your malfunction is, but I'm one of the good guys, alright? I've got no intentions of harming you."

She takes a deep breath, grits her teeth, and although her face is still shock-white, she lowers the car keys.

"Alright. I'll just...assume you're telling me the truth, so I'll repeat it again. What are you, and don't use that Cyberconian excuse. That sounds like something people would use to stuff their bras."

Marie only notices that one of them has landed on the table because, you see, she is crouched under the table in terror and can hear a very loud, wet-sounding thump right above her head. She still hasn't stopped screaming.

Yeah, take that, KOS-MOS. Tune up your precious battle systems with a woman screaming in your ear. How you like them apples, yeah.

Once KOS-MOS has worked her way through the swarm, their bodies disappear into the aether, leaving only the damage they've done to the imagined room as trace they were ever there in the first place.

"The Gnosis threat has been neutralized," KOS-MOS intones, as if this were merely a matter of course. "Combat efficiency decrease estimated at .3%. Powering down weapons systems."

She lowers the gatling guns as the nanomachines disassemble them once more.

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Does this count as a Meme? Probably not but who cares!?

Marie Schrader | Breaking Bad

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Re: Marie Schrader | Breaking Bad

This is cracking me up so much, you have no idea.

I'm glad! I've been having snickering fits over here, too. XD

Re: Marie Schrader | Breaking Bad

Re: Marie Schrader | Breaking Bad