ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night

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Logan Blackwood
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Civilian (GS-13)

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 12, 2013 17:53:45 GMT -5

Post by Logan Blackwood on Nov 12, 2013 17:53:45 GMT -5

"...with no time for looking back to the place where I belong..."

1750 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown,
Washington DC

Logan turned on to 7th street in the district, guiding his sporty white Cadillac through the somewhat thick evening traffic. In the district, traffic was always something of a problem, with so many people changing shifts regularly, heading out to dinner, or crawling the bar scene as college kids. That is the primary reason Logan adored his destination. He shifted his car into second gear, and headed towards the Passenger. It was kind of a cross between a hipster haunt - and a low key locals bar. It was small, and out of the way, so it didn't have a habit of attracting tourists, and had a bit of an eclectic gastro-freak food menu, local microbrews, and traditional-real honest cocktails. It was never crowded, and was not horribly overpriced - as the DC tourist traps tended to be. Logan could just barely see the establishment when a black BMW pulled out of it's spot right out front.

Perfect, Logan thought - as he neared the bar. It was usually extremely difficult to get such a good parking spot in the downtown area, especially around this time on a Friday. Logan pressed on the clutch and shifted his car into neutral, and eased on the breaks. He flicked his turn indicator on, and slipped quietly into the parking spot. Logan checked his rear-view mirror, making sure he didn't have a tentacle sticking out of his forehead or anything. He wasn't obsessed with vanity, but he did take care at how he looked. He shut off the engine, and stepped out into the Washington evening. It was just scratching what you might consider chilly, but Logan couldn't complain. He hated hot weather.

Logan buttoned one of the buttons on his brown sport-coat. Underneath he wore a simple button down, in a sand color, and tie that matched his jacket. His pants were stone-washed denim. Nothing too spectacular - but it was Logan's style. His shirt had a few wrinkles, but that was to be expected - as not 8 hours ago he had landed, back from Saudi Arabia. He had sat through debriefing - and a followup meeting, and needed to relax, wrinkles or not. On his way inside, off of the street, he paused - just long enough to shove a handful of coins into the meter. DC parking was atrocious. Logan had a deep hatred of meters, and more often than not ended up with a parking ticket.

As Logan stepped into the bar, he was transported to an entirely different universe. It was like stepping through a stargate. The subtle smell of old leather, and boiling duck fat - with the clinking of glasses, and the quiet drone of the few guests. The radio was playing a Brandi Carlile song that Logan recognized. He smiled a healthy smile. This was home. He walked up to the bar, standing across from where the barkeep had posted up, right near the main taps. The man had his hair slicked back, gasser style, and had tattoo's over his arms. Hipsters. He looked to Logan expectantly, and Logan offered him a pleasant smile.

"How about a Manhattan, Tommy H if you have it..." he said, as the bartender nodded, he automatically went to work, mixing rye, vermouth, cherry, and Angostura together and shaking it violently over ice. Logan took a seat down at the far end of the bar, unbuttoning his jacket as he perched atop the stool. He looked up at the TV, which was tuned to CNN. A female reporter was going on about an email hoax that was sent to hundreds of bureaucrats - from what Logan could surmise from the flavor text. He quickly shook it from his mind as the barkeep offered up a glorious amber brown martini glass, garnished with a couple of cherries. Logan pulled his wallet from his pocket, and slid his credit card to the young man. "Go ahead and open me up a tab," he said, and that was that. Logan took a quiet sip of his eighteen dollar drink, and closed his eyes to savor it.

<TAG: Azalea "De" Andre>

Last Edit: Nov 13, 2013 4:44:33 GMT -5 by Ayden "Ghost" Sheppard

Profile|Plot

Azalea "De" Andre
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Second Lieutenant (O-1)
Organization: United States Air Force

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 13, 2013 2:54:59 GMT -5

Post by Azalea "De" Andre on Nov 13, 2013 2:54:59 GMT -5

1750 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown,
Washington DC

When it came to coming home from a mission, everyone always had a different way of dealing with the events. For Azalea, the outlet of choice had always been dance. As surprising as it was, this young woman had taken up dance in the years of being in the academy. It was always a struggle to find time. There was never really any consistent lessons because of the schedule in the academy and now with missions. Still, whenever the chance arose, the female went off to the nearest studio and let out frustrations in movement. There were times the young woman always wondered what life would be like if she had chosen to give up military and pursued dance. Then the countless reminders of the expense, and how hard it was to make it in that world, always followed behind. It was great hobby to have and one that rarely any one knew about. The noirette was always embarrassed showing of that more feminine side. The reason when it had come to any dance events at the academy, she always sat out. This was more of a secret side that would remain just that.

Coming from the studio, Azalea headed up the street, to the bus stop, rambling on the phone. While being in the academy, the young woman never needed a car. Now that she was in homeworld, and basically living in the city, there still wasn't a need for a car. All of that money that would go to car payments were going for much more needed things; say rent. Even if it was cheaper living in the suburb of DC, it still wasn't as cheap as the female would like it. Every first of the month when rent was due, the lieutenant always wished she was back at the academy. There you didn't have to worry about rent. Instead there was tuition, but that was besides the point. You would think with all the times this lieutenant had moved around from foster home to foster home, she would be use to being alone, but this was a different kind of alone. This was the weight of responsibilities came with it. Sometimes being an adult sucked, but after graduating and going through the classes that was needed, the time had come.

"Des, you're sounding like a mother with all the questions you're asking. Yes it was fine. No I didn't screw anything up. NO! That's because I'm not good at video games! That stupid camera button and shooting at the same time? A lot different than the real thing. I can't believe she told you about that. I wasn't really scared of her, more like...having mental flashbacks of when she was my instructor. I'm just glad that I didn't spill coffee on her with how much I was shaking. It's not funny! You can stop laughing now Des. No seriously, you can stop laughing." Azalea rolled the mocha eyes, walking into the parking lot of the bar. This was the same routine the female always took after dance. Stopping at The Passenger bar for a few drinks before heading home. She always timed it out perfectly with the bus schedule. "Des, I need to go, but I will be around later tonight to give you all the details you want; only if Serenity is around. Would you hate me if I told you I love her more than you? I'm kidding I'm kidding, but seriously I do want to see her too. Alright sissy. I'll talk to you tonight. Love ya too. Later." The lieutenant hung up the cell phone, tucking it into the dance bag hanging from the shoulder, walking into the bar. The young woman let out a sigh, walking up to the bar, sliding onto a stool, and setting down the bag as she ordered. "Whatever you have on tap please." A slight smile crossed the face as Azalea tugged on the ponytail holder holding up the hair. With a shake of the head, waves of raven black hair fell around the shoulders while the female combed fingers through trying to get out the knots.

Taking the glass, the forensic scientist took a small sip, closing the eyes at the sensation of the hard amber liquid sliding down the throat. A few moments passed by before she opened the eyes, glancing around the bar, only to have the gaze rest on a familiar executive officer. Well crap. Azalea froze for a moment snapping attention back intently at the glass. Of all the bars, Logan Blackwood would be at the same one she was. It wasn't that the young woman didn't like him; it was simply, if they noticed each other, there would be conversation, and how do you have casual conversation with your executive officer? The female groaned remember the previous run in at Starbacks.Yeah that really went well. Letting out a small sigh, the lieutenant waited for the interaction to happen. It would be her luck. Azalea took a bigger sip of the drink, knowing there would be another drink to follow after this; a much needed second one.

tagLogan Blackwood

Great things do not await me, because great things do not wait, but excellence is hidden everywhere, all around me, and I will find it.

Logan Blackwood
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Civilian (GS-13)

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 13, 2013 11:46:01 GMT -5

Post by Logan Blackwood on Nov 13, 2013 11:46:01 GMT -5

1751 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown,
Washington DC

Logan was lost in thought. He was running over his just-finished meeting in his head, as he often did. It was inescapable, and happened to most experienced soldiers in the field. At some point, and it's not a bad thing, but you stop being the indestructible kid. Logan remembered the first time he dropped out of a MC-130 over the north Atlantic. No hesitation, no second thoughts, just full steam ahead, into a shameless back flip. Logan had changed a bit over the years, and at least attempted to be a bit more cautious. It would just take one bullet for the Blackwood legacy to be gone and silent forever.

He shook that thought out of his head as the door opened, and a new patron entered the establishment. Logan watched silently as the young lady approached the bar and ordered a drink. He was past amazement. She was young, and just as new to this town as he was, yet they had managed to run into each other twice now, Logan had to say that the odds were astronomically against that happening. The city had countless bars, how had she found this one? Weren't kids these days into clubs and dancing? The same thing with the starbucks. He'd attracted his entire freaking department at that meeting, when there were several other starbucks in the city, some even closer to the mall and capitol hill.

It was right after she took a drink of her beverage that she noticed him. Logan smiled, wondering if she would say anything. They had just spent several hours confined to a relatively cramped Gulfstream IV, enjoying the smell of each other post-battle, with the sweat, dust, and blood notes providing special notice. Logan was thankful for the rudimentary shower facilities back at HQ, even if they were crude. Perhaps Logan was turning into one of those people, who liked his things. Thinking back to the encounter at Starbucks, Logan didn't know that much about this girl. She seemed a bit shy, but that was probably just the age and experience quotient. She had proven herself very capable in the field, and shot just as well as Logan or Lucas or Alavair. That really put his mind at ease. He was, early on, uncomfortable with the number of people coming from this specially purposed academy. Now, not so much.

Logan took one final gulp from his glass, before sitting it down on the bar, tapping on the brim to let the barkeep know he desired a refill. Some bartenders would view that as rude behavior, but Logan had set up the evening to make the man feel comfortable with him. There was certain language that spoke to people, saying 'hey, i'm from the industry,' which Logan employed. He, of course, wasn't from the industry, not for a long, long time - but well, a brain study like him had no real choice but to exploit others.

The radio switched tracks to something a little more upbeat, a little more electronic, and a little more joyful as Logan looked at Azalea - really looked at her - for the first time. Her long dark hair, her choice of clothing, along with the faint remnants of perspiration on her forehead that whispered to him that she had been exercising. The way she looked the moment she made eye contact with him, like a tiny firecracker exploding beneath the water's surface. Fight or flight, it seemed - what would she choose? His gaze took her all in, in that brief, subtle moment. The way she sat, how her legs flowed from her curves, and the way her feet rested on the bars of the stool. There was magic in everything a woman did, and you could see it, only if you knew how to look. Logan was aware of this. There were looks you could give a girl, that would make them feel dirty, make them need a shower. Primal, and hungry, conveying only one desire. This look was different, and was one you couldn't simply practice. It came from knowing. It came from understanding something deeper. It was a simple thing, and yet spoke volumes of beauty.

Logan descended from his perch, and slowly walked over to the young lady as the bartender made his drink. Without asking permission, he took up the seat next to her, resting an elbow gently on the bar. He turned his face to hers, and idly scratched at the stubble under his beard, where a few days away from a razor was starting to show. His hand went down to the bar to take the newly offered Manhattan in hand, and take a sip. He let the tension build, ever so slightly. He wasn't necessarily being obvious towards the girl, but he wasn't hiding his interest either. He felt it his duty to test her shyness - just a little. When Logan was convinced that she had suffered the silence long enough, he spoke. It was a little tactic of his, to start out in a completely different direction. He had to be careful, making sure he didn't frighten her, or creep her out, so he started out simply with "How do you manage to keep tracking me down?" and a smile.

<Tag: Azalea "De" Andre>

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Azalea "De" Andre
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Second Lieutenant (O-1)
Organization: United States Air Force

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 13, 2013 23:37:49 GMT -5

Post by Azalea "De" Andre on Nov 13, 2013 23:37:49 GMT -5

1752 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

Azalea was never really one for letting someone in in any sort of deep way. There was always a wall that came up at a certain point. She might look open, friendly and trusting, but that only went so far. The lieutenant trusted teammates to have her back and make sure that she got out alive. There was that depth, but when it came to personal matters, that was a whole other story. The only person that Azalea completely trusted, and who knew everything about her, was Destiny. Even the closest friends, like Issac Thompson, only really knew bits and pieces. There was never anyone who totally knew all about this young woman. No one was ever able to get past those walls. No one really knew exactly how or what the access. So far, no one seemed special enough to get that. The reason when it came to seeing Logan, the brunette chose not to really make any sudden movements. It wasn't so much shyness as it was, not really letting one in. After the past that was dealt towards her, it only made sense that one would be resistant. Destiny had always told the lieutenant to see someone for those issues. She always said that the wounds had to run deeper than Azalea even knew, but the younger sister never listened. So far, keeping the past in the past was doing just fine. Why dig up old wounds that really didn't affect her much anymore. Okay so yeah there was still trust issues, but what person didn't have trust issues? You weren't human if you didn't have some form of trust issues. Not only that, counselors and people of that nature kind of creeped the female out. Having someone try to figure out what was wrong with you? No thank you. It was hard enough talking to close friends about issues. Why the hell would Destiny think that talking to a stranger would be any better. Some things were better left alone, and this female's past was one of them.

Feeling Logan's eyes pull Azalea from the deep thoughts. The young woman reached into the bag on the floor, pulled out the iphone, and slide it on. Thank you internet for being a welcome distraction. Even if Logan wasn't her executive officer, the female would still not really make any eye contact or movement to go talk to him. He was a guy; a decent looking guy for that matter. Talking to anyone, let alone the opposite sex outside of work matters, was not really one of the lieutenants strongest traits. One would have to be blind not to see that staring male was good looking. Tall, well built, the right amount of facial hair, and with the way he carried himself on and off the field, what wouldn't be attractive to a female. Why was it that attractive people can make one feel like in high school all over again? Nerves starting up. Anxiety pricking. Heart beats starting to race, wow, yeah getting too in depth there. The brunette tapped the screen, taking out the foolish thoughts onto the device. Thank you mind for wandering into a place that shouldn't have even dare to think about. The young woman wanted to do a face plant into the bar with how idiotic the thoughts were right now. Thank god no human being had the ability to read thoughts because they would be getting one hell of a show right now. Azalea took another sip, focusing all the crazy, unwanted nervous energy into the random game on the phone; that was till Logan decided distance wasn't good enough

Don't move Az. Keep looking at the phone. Though this is very creepy, having your executive officer staring at you intently. Is he trying to make me feel uncomfortable, because he is succeeding. Does he know that he looks like a creeper? He definitely does. The random thoughts that coursed through the young woman's mind, continuing to tap aimlessly at the game. Azalea didn't even know what the object of the game was. It was an outlet of the awkwardness that was between the two, or at least on her side. When Logan's voice broke through, the lieutenant was forced to set aside the phone and turn attention to the older man. The young woman smile softly, blushing slightly, taking another sip of the drink. "You caught me. I have a secret attraction for you and been stalking you ever since. Doesn't help that we work together as well." Azalea kept a straight face for a few minutes till she finally couldn't hold it anymore. Letting out a small chuckle, the brunette finished the drink, waiting for the bartender to come back down for another refill. "Completely kidding. Actually, this bar is near the dance studio I dance at whenever I have free time. I usually come here afterwards and get a drink before catching the bus. Complete coincidence that you happen to be here too." The young woman gave a small smile, giving a nod of thanks to the bartender as the glass was replaced. Taking a small drink, the lieutenant tucked away the phone once more, turning full attention to Logan. "What's your excuse? Admit it. You're keeping an eye on me because of everything that happened." She gave a small grin, running a finger down the cold glass, drawing a random design.

tag: Logan Blackwood

Great things do not await me, because great things do not wait, but excellence is hidden everywhere, all around me, and I will find it.

Logan Blackwood
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Civilian (GS-13)

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 14, 2013 0:19:53 GMT -5

Post by Logan Blackwood on Nov 14, 2013 0:19:53 GMT -5

1752 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

"What's your excuse? Admit it. You're keeping an eye on me because of everything that happened."

It was a trap, Logan had no doubt about it. People employ traps constantly, testing each other, pushing boundaries, fishing for answers. Sometimes it was unintentional, sometimes it was very intentional. Was Azalea testing Logan intentionally? His gut instinct told him yes. Other factors to consider, however, was the fact that she was already a beer down, and beings she was a rather thin thing, it was possible that her inhibitions had been lowered. Logan wouldn't say for sure, but she did turn from apparent distraction to chatterbox pretty quickly.

His drink found his lips again, and he took a pull of the mixture. Logan enjoyed whiskey drinks for the same reason he enjoyed females. The complexity. The variations. Two glasses of scotch whiskey could be worlds apart on flavor. Oak, cherry, vanilla, citrus fruits, herbs, spices, honey - subtle little things that spoke of what the drink has endured. Was it held captive in fresh oak barrels? Was it kept in charred barrels, learning to be smokey and bold, hidden away for decades. Was it bright and welcoming, weak and cowardly, or a natural born leader? Now you take two ladies. They may look similar, have similar hairstyles, or wear similar clothes. Look closer and the subtle differences create two very different individuals. Is she wearing Chanel or Love Spell? Does she speak up in a crowd, or blend in? What does she watch on TV late at night? It's endless and vast, the complexity and possibilities.

Take Azalea, for instance. Logan knew her file - but that wasn't really any help. She probably saw him as her XO, but Logan wanted to get around that. She responded to his question with humor, that she was stalking him. It told Logan that she probably held her trust as sacred. Logan understood that all too well - when working for the Government, trust was a rare thing. Lend it out too often, and you would invariably get hurt. Logan couldn't say whether or not the young lady went about life this way from experience, or just good practice. He didn't worry about it, though. It was odd, for him to give up on a mind-puzzle, but she seemed to trust him when it came to work, and that was a sufficient ground to stand on, for now. He could work from that beachhead.

Logan decided to put himself into the carefully laid trap. "I must admit, I do have my eyes on you, miss Andre" he said, and followed it up with another sip of his Manhattan. It didn't sound too awful corny to him, but he was a lax critic of himself. "but not because of anything that has happened yet," he added. Vaguely aware that it could be taken as a false confidence in his 'game,' but he merely meant that her skills in combat surpassed adequacy, to the point where he wasn't worried about her.

He nudged her bag, and raised an eyebrow. "So, dance? Is that ballet? salsa? hip-hop?" he asked, teasingly - yet with interest. Logan didn't discredit her hobby - he had never been a dancer, but one of his more deeper kept secrets was that he was rather proficient at the waltz, and similar high-class dancing. He wasn't intending to do so, but managed to slip out "you know, I can dance. I'm not all beards and muscle and guns..." His face actually colored a bit with a blush he didn't think was possible. He quickly chalked it up to the alcohol. Logan couldn't help but notice a pattern of blaming it for all of life's problems. Instead of hide his face, he simply kept his eyes on hers.

<TAG: Azalea "De" Andre>

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Azalea "De" Andre
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Second Lieutenant (O-1)
Organization: United States Air Force

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 14, 2013 19:11:23 GMT -5

Post by Azalea "De" Andre on Nov 14, 2013 19:11:23 GMT -5

1753 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

Azalea froze instantly hearing Logan state that he was watching her. Great! Word of the reputation she had was already getting around. Destiny was going to hear about this later. She probably told Ayden to keep an eye out, that the former cadet most likely hadn't changed much. Ayden most likely went and told Alavair who in the end told Logan. Yes there was still some of an attitude. Yes actions usually got the better of her, but that didn't mean she needed to be watched over like a hawk. Well that was till Andre caught the last part of the sentence. Not because of anything that has happened? What did that mean? Why else would he be having on her? Former cadet, wet around the ears, attitude and a mouth that still needed work on restraining. All of that seemed to scream loud at clear, watch out! That will mostly likely be the one to mess things up. She was the one to chew out Donaldson on the last mission. So why wouldn't eyes....oh. The lieutenant froze all over again, if she even moved from that position before. There was only one other way that could mean, and it wasn't because of being the rookie on the team. Once again the brunette wanted to do a face plant into the counter. A image of those anime characters having the sweat drop down the back of the head came to mind. It couldn't mean that. There was no way. She was younger and he was the executive officer. It was too bold to think that he could mean in you caught my attention sort of way. As if this wasn't awkward enough, the nerves started rising more. He also had a career in being able to read someone's actions. Well crap. She was officially screwed. How to respond to that? A splash of crimson appeared on the female's cheek while taking another, a larger, gulp of the drink. Thankfully this lieutenant had a fairly decent tolerance to alcohol. Guess drinking back in high school did come in handy; not that she would ever admit that to anyone else. "Thanks. Should I be worried in any sort of way?" Azalea really didn't know the best way to reply. Maybe it was another trap, but it was the only way to gauge exactly what he meant by that statement, because the mind was already running wild.

"I can't believe I admitted to you I dance. Barely anyone knows that, and no to the ballet. Do I really look like I would be able to prance around in a tutu?" Azalea chuckled shaking her head at the thought. Yeah that would be a sight to see. The young woman had issues with dresses. She hated getting dressed up or in anything other than comfortable clothes. There was no way she would ever be caught dead in a tutu. That had blackmail written all over it. "Nothing really fancy honestly. I guess you could say more hip-hop, combined with Jazz and Modern. I get basic lessons from instructors there and in my own stuff. I watch others, teach myself those moves, then throw that in as well. Dancing is more of an outlet, a stress reliever." In all honesty, it was the way someone could truly see into her soul. If anyone wanted to know what Azalea was ever thinking or feeling, all they had to do was watch her dance. It was through dance the young woman expressed emotions that she never did around others. When the female danced, the world faded away, walls came down and she was the most vulnerable. Another reason no one really knew this hidden talent. No one deserved access into that part of her. It was a secret. A secret for some reason that was shared with the most unlikely of people. Why? Well that was the question still repeating over and over again. Maybe it was the counselor part of who Logan was. Whatever the reason, he knew and now the lieutenant prayed he would never see any of her dances, because he would see a whole other side.

Azalea picked up the glass, taking a drink while giving Logan the once over at his comment. A smirk played on the corners of the mouth swallowing before replying. "Darn. There goes my stereotyping of you. You forgot mind powers to read people. Behavioral specialist right? Don't you guys have a hobby of sitting around and creepily watching people?" The smirk on the lieutenant's face grew wider setting down the glass. It was a complete joke. It probably had to be annoying being able to read people. At least for her it would be. Instantly picking up on things that others couldn't? Not being able to turn it off and walk away, like she could as a forensics specialist. Yeah talk about a migraine waiting to happen. "I would like to see those moves sometime. Bet they are pretty interesting. So what other secrets do you have that I should be shocked at?" Maybe it was the alcohol loosening her up. Maybe it was because of his career. Whatever the reason was, Azalea's full attention was on Logan; body angled towards him. Arm resting on the counter as the fist of her hand help hold up the head. Eyes locked gaze on his. It was simply getting to know one of your teammates in a more personal setting. Nothing wrong with that. Right? If so, then why was she enjoying poking fun? A question that she would revisit later.

Tag: Logan Blackwood

Last Edit: Nov 14, 2013 19:14:56 GMT -5 by Azalea "De" Andre

Great things do not await me, because great things do not wait, but excellence is hidden everywhere, all around me, and I will find it.

Logan Blackwood
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Civilian (GS-13)

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 14, 2013 21:59:52 GMT -5

Post by Logan Blackwood on Nov 14, 2013 21:59:52 GMT -5

1753 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

Logan couldn't deny that there was something deeply interesting in Azalea. He could tell from the way she held herself, to the way she approached, and then attacked conversation. He could tell by the blushes that graced her cheeks. She had secrets. Everyone had secrets, really. Sometimes it was simple - something you overheard, something you saw, or even just picked up on. You could often tell a lot just from inferences. Some secrets ran much deeper. Some secrets were experiences. A father that was never around, an almost-fiance dying in a car accident, a teammate betraying you in combat; some secrets were scars. Logan had scars, Logan understood secrets. Thus, he understood why one comes to hold them dear, near, and precious. Carry around a bolder long enough, it becomes your friend - even if it tries to crush you beneath it.

Logan's slip about dancing had set her at ease, however - and that was definitely a good sign. She let her guard down, willingly, at least a little - and even went on the offensive a bit. Logan liked this behavior. He wasn't often flirted with, and to say the least, it does something for one's confidence. She made a comical quip about his job responsibilities. Logan smiled, and volunteered "They pay me to be a shrink, but so far all I end up doing is shooting people - so I'm not even sure. I think I'm doing it wrong" with a grin. He responded to her joke in kind, with comedy, but there was a haunting truth behind the words. He was a behavioral specialist. He was also the second in command on the team. Behavioral specialist seemed to be a conditional thing, however - used when needed. He hated to think How Dr. Byrne got along on her team - although she wasn't XO over there. He let the thought go.

As she mentioned his dancing skills, and the possibilities of a demonstration - Logan looked around the establishment. No real space had been set aside for dancing, so sadly, he couldn't humor her without knocking over tables and becoming an inconvenience. "We'll have to wait for another time on my exhibition" he offered as a refusal. With a long sip, he finished his drink, and gave the girl a wide grin. Logan teased "As for my other secrets, you will just have to find out the hard way,"

Logan made no request to have his glass refilled. He spared a quick glance outside, and noticed that it was still in the dusky phase, outside, as it was not quite 8 p.m. Logan looked to Azalea once more, making deliberate eye-contact. So many people had such trouble with that aspect of communication. Logan practiced it constantly. Eye contact could prove emphatic, or help intimidate. It was a most versatile fruit. Thinking back, Logan remembered that it was not uncomfortable outside, so he offered up a proposition. "would you like to go for a walk, ma'am?" It was worded politely enough that she could refuse and opt to remain, and continue drinking. Logan may not have been the most experienced when it came to the opposite sex, but He had a habit of not being commanding with his propositions. So many people ordered their company around. 'LETS go for a walk,' and the like. Logan could apply the correct leverage to get his way, without playing the forceful role. It was one of those perks associated with and as mind games.

Truthfully, Logan didn't have any destination in mind. He often went for walks or runs - but seldom with company. However it did seem like a decent proposal. Downtown would be well lit, there would be people around, and the district had some lovely sights near by. The monuments at night were particularly stunning. Logan didn't think that Azalea was worried about her safety with him - if she had been non-military, he might expect that, but he assumed she could handle herself - even against him. That thought-process quickly turned down a dark path towards satin sheets and massage oils - Logan quickly banished it before a blush could form.

Tag: Azalea "De" Andre

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Azalea "De" Andre
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Second Lieutenant (O-1)
Organization: United States Air Force

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 17, 2013 1:22:34 GMT -5

Post by Azalea "De" Andre on Nov 17, 2013 1:22:34 GMT -5

1754 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

For some strange reason, Azalea was comfortable with Logan; a comfortable she never felt before with anyone else other than Destiny and Serenity. They were the only other ones that knew about the dance hobby. It still puzzled the young woman why she openly admitted that. If Issac, Mikayla, Shannon, or anyone else asked, she would deny it up and down. Heck, all the dances back at the academy, the lieutenant pulled that I-can't-dance card. So what was it about Logan that made her flat out tell the truth. She could have simply said, I was just exercising. He would have bought it. There wasn't must difference between work out clothes and dances clothes. They were basically the same. She needed to think about this more at another time. "Well you could test it out on me; just don't ask me how I that makes me feel because that question always annoys me." It never really made sense why counselors always felt the need to ask that question. You would think it would be obvious why the person was there. Their feelings brought them there, but then again, she wasn't the licensed one to figure people out. If people weren't her forte in regular every day life, seeing them as a career? Yeah that wouldn't go over too well.

Azalea finished up the drink, reaching into the bag to pay. "Darn. Here I was hoping to get you intoxicated enough to see that side. Wouldn't be every day one would get to see that side of their co-worker" The brunette winked, passing over the credit card to the bartender. The lieutenant chuckled, taking the card back and signing the receipt, slipping both the card and her copy back into the dance bag. "Darn again. My plan of having more drinks in you failed me twice. Guess next time I stalk you, I'll have to work harder in getting more drinks in you." She grinned, running fingers through the dark hair, working out the knots that were probably in it from dancing. Anytime the young woman would wear the hair down, she did. Many women in the military chose to cut their hair short; for this female that was the exact opposite. The long black hair she felt was a signature of who she was. Without it, it would almost be like an identity crisis. Plus, she was one of the few females in the world that wouldn't be able to pull of a pixie cut. As much as it was a pain, pulling the hair up into a bun would have to do to keep the hair the length it was.

Just as Azalea was about to say, I should be going, Logan jumped in first, giving the invitation to continue their time together. Everything inside the lieutenant was screaming don't go. It wouldn't be smart. The two of them walking alone together could send the wrong kind of thoughts and images to others if they were seen together. At the same time, something was saying, go, do it. Biting the bottom lip for a moment, the brunette debated back and forth before finally nodding. "Sure why not. Did you drive here? If you did, do you mind if I put my bag in your car? I rather not carry it around as we walk. Would get in the way a bit." The lieutenant stood up, feeling a wave of nerves flood over. It was just a walk. Simply a walk between two co-workers nothing more. Why would that make her nervous? Maybe because there was attraction on her part. Attraction that shouldn't be there, especially someone who was in command over her. Attraction that didn't need to be there because more than likely, there was nothing felt on his part. Azalea wanted to ram her head through the wall for even thinking these thoughts. Pull it together. Stay focused. Stop having the mind freak out like a little confused school girl. Way easier said than done it seemed. Taking a small deep breath, the lieutenant turned and faced Logan, connecting their gazes once more. That was another small gesture the female barely ever did. Staring into another eyes unnerved her, and yet it was happening right now. It had to be the alcohol. Why else would she be doing things out of character. Yes alcohol was always good for any kind of blame. Something was saying this walk was probably going to turn out interesting; very interesting indeed if the alcohol was having its way this much already. A mental note was made to ease back on the beer. Maybe it had more affect than she ever really thought. Great. Tipsy with her executive officer. This was going to be one grand time.

Tag:Logan Blackwood

Great things do not await me, because great things do not wait, but excellence is hidden everywhere, all around me, and I will find it.

Logan Blackwood
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Civilian (GS-13)

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 18, 2013 23:16:01 GMT -5

Post by Logan Blackwood on Nov 18, 2013 23:16:01 GMT -5

1754 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

Logan smiled. Azalea seemed to be rambling on a mile a minute. He admittedly enjoyed the reaction he was getting from the younger colleague of his. It was one of his tricks of the mind, something he did automatically, it would seem. They way she kept talking, it meant that she was nervous. It wasn't the bad nervous, rather the quick, hasty awkward kind that came from the mind and heart struggling over an issue. Logan would likely guess he was that issue. It was a fun feeling, and one he didn't often experience. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone out with a female. He considered this a date, even without her consent, it was how it played out that would prove him right or wrong.

After asking her if she would like to leave, and go elsewhere, he tensed. It was the ultimate leap of faith - he would find out soon if he was rejected, or accepted. It was a small thing, asking to go for a walk, simple, harmless you may even think. It spoke volumes, however. If she agreed, she also, more silently, implied that she was willing to trust him, willing to possibly be alone with him, and most importantly, willing to be seen with him. Relationships always fell back to appearance, at first. Perhaps they didn't know much about each other, but something, be it a hot body, or curious feeling, led them to a desire. That desire being to explore possibilities. Would she?

Logan was flooded with relief and joy as she consented. It was only the tip of the iceberg, but it meant that his night would not end here, it would press onward, to adventure and fun. He liked adventure and fun. Azalea asked if she could put her bag in his car, which made sense. No point lugging it around. "I'm right out front, here" he said, taking her bag in his hand, he turned and headed towards the door. The barkeeper had his card still, so he could settle up later when he returned to his car. He turned to the barkeeper, however, and said "Put her on my tab," already heading to the door, Azalea presumably following. Once again, Logan transported into another world, as he stepped through the door.

Reaching in his pocket, he clicked the unlock button on his keyfob. Taking only a few steps, Logan reached the passenger side door of his Cadillac, and opened it with a gentle tug. He carefully sat her bag down on the seat, turned, and closed the door. He reached his hand back into his pocket to lock the door. He smiled and winked at Azalea as he heard the car honk once to let him know everything was safe.

Logan was now in his territory. While he didn't often date girls, he was quite good at it. It came from his confidence. His boldness, and his charm. He knew he was good looking, and he knew how to play that. He knew how most girls liked to be talked to. He knew how most girls liked it when a man takes the initiative. Logan liked games, and courting was nothing but a game. Why shouldn't he like it? He was well off financially, independent, and educated. He would have already settled down probably, if things hadn't been so hectic in his life. It gave him some comfort to know that Azalea's life was similarly hectic. He was starting to realize, he liked this girl.

Issuing the trademark Blackwood smile, he, perhaps a bit forwardly, took her hand in his. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he squeezed down slightly. It was a simple thing, but to Logan - what was a walk without a little romance? He started off down the sidewalk.

Tag Azalea "De" Andre

Profile|Plot

Azalea "De" Andre
Homeworld Command

Posts: 0

Rank: Second Lieutenant (O-1)
Organization: United States Air Force

ORP: Chasing Miles Through the Night Nov 19, 2013 23:34:46 GMT -5

Post by Azalea "De" Andre on Nov 19, 2013 23:34:46 GMT -5

1755 Hours
The Passenger
Downtown; Washington DC

What was it about feelings that could turn the most confident person into a complete fool? It seemed to draw one back to those middle school days when your hormones were first discovered. When boys went from having cooties to being actually decent looking to be around. How there was one that always seemed to make your heart race, palms sweat, and be cover come with an utter sense of shyness. That's what Logan was doing to Azalea in more ways than one. It had been awhile since feelings like that had completely over came the young woman; at least true honest feelings. There was that time back in the academy when the cadets were exposed to that virus; the virus that made them fall for the first person they say. The person had happened to be Kenith Simmons, and those feelings made the former cadet think there was really something there when there wasn't. It had really messed with the brunette's head for the longest time. This time, there was no virus. They were true strings of the heart, and it was throwing the lieutenant off her game. There was various different things this female was good at, especially when it came to the military and the stargate program. Matters of the heart, however, that was a whole other ball game. It was like throwing her into a game where the rules weren't explained. Azalea prayed all of the confusion that was being felt wasn't that easy to see. Why did it have to be a shrink? Of all the people she could have strong feelings for, it had to be a shrink. If Destiny was here, she would probably be on her ass from laughing so hard.

Watching as he took the bag, Azalea gave a small nod, biting the bottom lip anxiously, trying to not go wide eyed as he took over the tab. "You really didn't have to do that but thank you." A gentleman. Another trait this female wasn't use to, at least when it came to ones she had feelings for. It was probably the age that made him like that. Well whatever it was, it was welcomed and warmly received. The lieutenant stayed quiet as the pair walked to the car. "Hold on one second." Azalea moved past him, leaning into the car as she unzipped the bag, pulling out her black dance shrug; not knowing how long they would be out and how cool it could possibly get. She pulled on as Logan locked up the car, smiling back towards him, feeling the cheeks warm from the faint blush that had to be appearing. The female froze for another moment, feeling his hand press against her own. The mocha eyes glanced down as his hand intertwined with her own, wanting to make sure it was really happening. It took a minute before Azalea reacted, gently squeezing back, rising the eyes back to his gaze, giving another small smile.

The lieutenant was mentally kicking herself as they started down the sidewalk. If they were caught like this by anyone else in the program, they were dead; deader than dead. Azalea wasn't sure what would happen to Logan, but she would be tossed out of, not only the program, but the military as well. You don't get into relationships with people on your team. It was a conflict of interest. If you do, you don't make it so public like this. That is, was this turning into something? Was this even a date? The forensics specialist knew what the feelings were on her end; were they recepicated? They had to be or they wouldn't be walking hand in hand right? Thank you mind for always over analyzing. The wonderful joys of being a female. "Tell me some about yourself; other than the obvious being your career and our work." Silence was something this brunette was never fully comfortable with. The reason for the rambling at times. Just sitting and enjoy silence was never easy, unless it had to do with sleeping. Then the silence was great and welcomed. Plus, if this was to lead somewhere, she had to know more about him than just that he was very handsome, great with a gun, and was a shrink. Azalea rubbed her thumb lightly on the back of his hand as they walked, hoping it was okay. Again, thank you mind for also questioning everything. She wondered men felt like this as well. It always seemed like a girl thing to question everything.

Tag:Logan Blackwood

Last Edit: Nov 19, 2013 23:35:28 GMT -5 by Azalea "De" Andre

Great things do not await me, because great things do not wait, but excellence is hidden everywhere, all around me, and I will find it.

Adam "Sly" Collier: Oh-oh Mar 10, 2015 0:35:47 GMT -5

Jay: Working on my bio, hoping to get it up over the weekend! Mar 11, 2015 6:53:45 GMT -5

Riley "Pyrex" Peterson: Working on Riley as well.

Hi all Mar 14, 2015 23:06:37 GMT -5

Riley "Pyrex" Peterson: My color is purple!! xD Mar 19, 2015 19:10:58 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: it's a very pretty color :3 Mar 20, 2015 12:42:52 GMT -5

Riley "Pyrex" Peterson: haha it is and so is yours

Mar 20, 2015 21:56:46 GMT -5

Ronald "Otis" Hudson: Blah. Post is up, pretty rubbish, still getting into the character Mar 31, 2015 4:27:50 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: [stares at thread] I should reply to you Apr 2, 2015 13:05:12 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: SHOULD I DO FARRAH OR MY NEW MAN Apr 2, 2015 13:05:18 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: I did the thing ;D Apr 2, 2015 13:16:54 GMT -5

Katrina Logan-Walker: Well look who is baaaaack lol. New character coming soon as a civvie if possible

Apr 15, 2015 14:03:54 GMT -5

Mere: wooooord Apr 16, 2015 17:18:24 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: gonna ACTUALLY do the final graphics this weekend >< sorry this has been taking me so long Apr 16, 2015 17:34:55 GMT -5

Renee: Ehhh, did my edits. Would like to RP soon please <3 Apr 27, 2015 1:02:17 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: [crawls back in] I THINK I have life balanced. finally. Apr 29, 2015 18:54:58 GMT -5

Farrah Byrne: [spoons site] Apr 29, 2015 18:55:00 GMT -5

Elizabeth "Beth" Houghton: Sorry about my post. I'm so rusty. Need a nice sig too May 2, 2015 16:55:18 GMT -5

Adam "Sly" Collier: Hello, my people! Sept 3, 2023 15:00:52 GMT -5

Cara Coyle: *peek* Sept 3, 2023 19:59:05 GMT -5

Katrina Logan: *fights the urge to sign back up* lol Oct 26, 2023 9:18:29 GMT -5