call me out! (master post)

[queensland]

 



♛ refer to the list above for active muses.
♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line!
♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy!
♛ feel free to make up a scenario at the start, or wait to see where things go.

Comments

MARIAN HAWKE, YOUR MISSION, SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT...

[whatchampion]

After one year of living on campus, and fielding an increasing barrage of phone number requests, Garrett decided it was time to finally figure out why people kept asking him to hook them up with his (apparently hot) little sister. He did have a little brother, but Carver was still kicking around in his last year of high school back home, and was likely to snag a varsity scholarship that would let him bash in other people's heads and get as far away from Garrett and his snotty science college as possible.

No, Garrett decided, no one could ever mistake Carver Hawke for his sister, little or otherwise.

Anyway, he had to admit, he was curious about seeing this mysterious "Hawke" as well. It wasn't like it was a common name in the area, and as far as he could figure out she really did look similar enough to him to make people wonder. The trouble, of course, would be figuring out where he could catch her. She made deliveries around campus, including the science building, but one month of trying to catch a glimpse of her hadn't yielded any results, and he was seriously contemplating whether or not this was just a part of an elaborate prank pulled by the rest of the molecular biology lab. Who were generally acknowledged as the craziest people in the building.

He sighed, pushing his glasses up for the umpteenth time today, absently reminding himself to get them repaired-- fingers resting briefly on top of the band-aid plastered across his nose (Anders said there wasn't any way the impact with the cabinet door was enough to break his nose, but he wasn't taking any chances on the word of a guy that made his own organic burn ointment. Urgh). Whoever was supposed to pick up these lab supplies for delivery was running late; he hefted the box into his hands and decided he'd better wait for the guy in the lobby. If he was lucky, maybe he could scrounge up enough change to take the bus home instead of boarding all the way.

He used his shoulder to nudge the glass doors open, realizing someone was on the other side far too late for him to duck around them. Thankfully, he didn't drop the box on his foot; when he looked up, though, any thoughts of apologizing died away.

"Wow," he blurted, "I really hope you aren't my little sister." And promptly wished he could swallow his own tongue and die.

OH GOD THIS IS PROBABLY HORRIBLE, SORRY

[twinfangs]

Marian wasn't what people would call "cute". She'd outgrown that phase long before her sister Bethany came along, all sunshine and smiles. She was the smart one, too, the girl who read all day and still managed to turn the eye of every boy in town. And that's where Marian would come in. She was stronger, tougher, with a harder jaw and piercing eyes. Her hair was always cropped short, a stubborn strand resting on the bridge of her nose.

As a child, people called her masculine. Her mother said she took after her father, protecting her little sister and making sure no one got in her way. And that might be why she's in college instead of in a trade school; Bethany's hoping to get into the Kinesiology program for physical therapy, and Marian went there for liberal arts. It wasn't her job to be the intellectual, not when she was already making enough money and working on writing on the side.

But school is school, and here she was. She'd heard of the other "Hawke" at the university. In fact, she'd heard nothing else from two of her teachers. I'm astonished you're not in the science program too, Hawke, one of them tried to tell her. If you're half as good as he is, you two could really make things happen. But no one wanted to clarify and she'd given up on meeting this long-lost-brother of hers. If she hadn't found him yet, what were the odds of running into him now?

Pretty good, apparently.

Marian nearly ran straight into the door when he pushed it open. She side-stepped and narrowly missed running her shoulder into his box. There are papers under one arm, none of which slip from her grasp. She looked up at him, almost as utterly dumbstruck as he was. She recovered first, though, shifting her weight and raising an eyebrow at him, a classic Hawke move. "You charm all the girls around here like that?" she quipped, brushing past him. "Bet you get a lot of numbers that way."

IT'S WONDERFULY HORRIBLE

[whatchampion]

"That's only because I haven't tried it on anyone with standards yet," Garrett answered automatically, switching into the breezy, devil-may-care attitude he preferred to adopt before he could think better of it. When his mind belatedly caught up with his mouth, he wished it was physically possible for him to kick himself. "I mean, no, I don't usually-- I'm not--" --a pervert, he almost said, then realized that was probably as convincing as the time he told his mother Carver ate his homework.

"Look, let's just-- let me introduce myself." He grinned at her desperately over the cardboard in his arms, which was a move that usually never failed to at least invoke the pity of whoever he directed the expression at. Then again, maybe that was just Anders, who would probably think even the most scabrous kitten was cute.

"It's Garrett. Garrett Hawke." He offered a hand for her to shake, forgot he was holding a heavy box full of delicate laboratory equipment, and promptly spent five seconds frantically rearranging its weight in his arms before it could hit the floor. He sighed, giving up any hope of a good first impression. "I don't get out much."

sob

[twinfangs]

Oh, the science boy had a sarcastic side. Marvelous. She shot him a look over her shoulder as she ducked into the room to drop off the letters and papers she had, her eyes barely leaving his pitiful visage. He practically tumbled over everything - his words, his feet, his box - and she found herself actually smiling a little, though it wasn't wholly at his expense. "I'd encourage you to give it a go, but I'd be afraid of some girl calling campus security on you."

Marian thrust a hand out and grabbed the box for him, afraid he'd drop something heavy or breakable on his feet. She helped to steady it before she looked up at him, her eyes alight with mirth. Pitiful, a little scatterbrained, but somewhat endearing. At least he was being genuine, she supposed. "With the way you're scrabbling at those beakers, I'm hardly surprised, though I imagine you're in a rigorous program if you're in the science department."

...But then, there was that name. She raised an eyebrow, the smile holding. "Marian. Marian Hawke." So this was the mysterious man people were claiming to be her twin or long lost something-or-other. "Not a very common last name, you know," she noted quietly, with some skepticism.

[whatchampion]

Sarcastic? Hawke? Never. Still, apparently this wasnt another day for Hawke to get clocked around the head by an aggravated woman, for which he spared a small thanks to whatever deity was looking out for him. Perhaps all that time making a fool of himself around Miss Elegant was paying off. Anyway, he wouldn't have liked to test Marian's fist; good genetics meant Garrett was well-built, but he suspected she had more strength in her pinky than in his whole arm. Maybe he should work out more like Carver.

On second thought, maybe not like Carver. The kid had exhibited a distressing tendency to favor shirts with cut-off sleeves and vests. Garrett was happy to disappear into shapeless sweaters.

He didn't say Yes, I knew your name because that would not only be 1) creepy, but also 2) imply he'd spent a lot of time thinking about her. Which absolutely wasn't true, of course, but there wasn't exactly a good way to insert that into the conversation, was there?

"Not common at all!" He answered with a cheerfulness that he hoped didnt sound too forced. "Though I can't say I've ever been to any Hawke family reunions, so I don't know how many more there are out there. And no, for the record, I've never had anyone call campus security on me, though there was one time with the fire department..." He trailed off. "I'm rambling. I do that. Sorry. I think you were supposed to pick these up, actually?" He jiggled the already-addressed box at her meaningfully; something inside gave an ominous tinkle and he paled.

wow this is late. I thought I replied to this :(

[twinfangs]

No, not common at all. And it was such a strange coincidence that they ran into each other here, right? It must have been fate, shoving them together. And now they'd be best friends and escort each other to class!

...Yeah, she wasn't falling for that sort of simple explanation.

"My mother doesn't go to many family reunions either. Not her place." She stuck to the Amell side of things, after all, and she wanted Marian to take part in it as well. But even with a nicer home, all of the luxuries granted to an Amell...she didn't want any of it. Call her ungrateful or spoiled, but she was a Hawke at heart. Her mother reminded her of it every day she saw the woman, scoffing at her stubbornness and hoping her daughter would shake off this phase. Unluckily for her, that wasn't happening.

Her focus shifted back to Garrett, a faint smile playing on her lips. The rambling was sort of cute (in a puppy-dog-cute way, really), and she was caught in it before she realized he was trying to get her attention. "...Oh, is that it?" she asked. A box of miscellaneous, jingling things. Glass. She really needed to ask more in depth questions when it came to these deliveries.

"Thanks. I wasn't really sure what I was looking for, but--" But, there it was. She moved towards him to take the box, stopping at that oh-so-strange tinkle and that look he gave her. She raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong? What's in there?"

NO WORRIES I'm also trying to shorten my tags to make it easier to tag back and forth <3

[whatchampion]

Garrett squinted down at the box in his hands gloomily. "Knowing my luck, probably something expensive and irreplaceable," he muttered, before perking up. "But since Anders was the one who packed it, it's probably his fault if something is broken." The thought was an immensely cheering one. Still, this presented a logical problem of its own-- if just jiggling the package was enough to set its contents rattling, clearly it wasn't fit to be strapped to the back of a motorbike.

Not having his hands free, he used his chin to gesture vaguely back down the corridor. "Do you mind coming with me to the lab so I can repack this? I think we have a few more drawers of bubble wrap somewhere..." Unless Anders had given it to his cat to play with. "It shouldn't take long."