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Tara McCutcheon, nee Maclay
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| OOC |
[Jan. 4th, 2010|10:57 am] |
You have my attention for any OOC... anything, really.
*listens attentively* |
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| Email |
[Jan. 4th, 2010|10:50 am] |
Tara opens her laptop, to receive your email.
(Yay you!) |
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| Voicemail |
[Jan. 4th, 2010|10:38 am] |
Hi, this is Tara McCutcheon. There's a really, really good reason why I can't take your call right now, and if you'll leave a message for me so I can call you back, I promise I'll tell you what it is!
[beeeeep] |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 4th, 2006|11:52 pm] |
I died in the Dungeon of BramblessI was killed in a moss-covered chamber by Medusae X the orc, whilst carrying... the Amulet of Far Superior, a Figurine of Gifteddoctor, the Shield of Prof Kirke, the Dagger of Factdrivenmale, the Axe of Spikedwithblood, the Sceptre of Awisemansaid, a Figurine of Shane Mcc, the Shield of Persian Eunuch and 89 gold pieces. Score: 119 Explore the Dungeon of Brambless and try to beat this score, or enter your username to generate and explore your own dungeon...
You've been caught here, too? I hope you have better luck than I did. Let me tell you of my adventure, and perhaps you can learn from my mistakes. Perhaps you can save me, save us all, ( even now... )
[ooc: I couldn't resist. I tried! ...but I failed. Do let me know how you go, if you try it!] |
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| #37C Kinney Building, Friday night |
[Aug. 5th, 2006|11:10 am] |
Seated in the middle of her bed, Shane peers at a history book sitting open in her lap, glasses perched on her nose as she runs a highlighter over a few lines of text and tries to commit the passage to memory before returning to her skimming. Skimming, highlighting, skimming again - it's repetitious and she's been at it for hours. Her eyes are starting to ache, but she's almost to the end of the chapter; might as well finish it before she takes a break. Dexter had tried his kitten-y best to distract her by pouncing her shoelaces and hopping about on the bed, but her concentration and focus are singular, right now. It's only a few more days before she sits down for her GED. She wants to be ready.
( Fears and concerns, some soothed and some looming larger than ever ) |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 29th, 2006|02:12 pm] |
Having pretty much volunteered her sons' house for the hosting of a dinner with a plan, Tara's spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, fiddling with recipes, taste-testing and adjusting. Cassie's joining them, as is Jonathan - mostly because Tara's inner yentl really wants to see the two of them together. There had been discussion of meeting Yazoo as Bruce's significant other, but it seems as though that might be better another time. A more private dinner, perhaps. Because, as I understand it, Jan is still away.
She doesn't get to see her best friend as often as she'd like, though - outside of therapy they hardly ever see each other these days, and she can't invite him to her own home. He and Shane have never gotten along. To have him potentially happy with her new little sister, and to be able to tease them with her son...
She's very much looking forward to tonight.
[ooc: Specifically for Cassie, Bobby and Jonathan. Bruce, honey, if you're up for play I'd love you here, but I know you're working ohsohard. Anyone else who wants to drop by, there will definitely be enough food!] |
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| Wednesday at the Kinney Building - NSFW! |
[May. 20th, 2006|05:38 pm] |
They'd finally run out of coffee - and kinda need to go shopping, after a couple of weeks of housebound nakedness - so Tara had dropped by the Planet to pick up breakfast for them both, and had a very odd conversation with Jonathan. In Chihaya's body, and doing his job. Honestly, you leave the city alone for a couple of weeks, and they get into trouble... Regardless, the smile on her face as she re-enters the apartment is broad and happy. She kissed Shane goodbye before she left, but she was only half-awake, drowsy and drifting after an enthusiastic morning's greeting. Climbing the stairs with her take-away bag, she's not sure whether she'll find her wife asleep or awake, but either way is fine with her, as long as she's still Shane in Shane's body.
( What Tara and Shane have been doing during the bodyswap... ) |
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| Friday morning, #37C Kinney Building || Backdated due to RL! |
[Apr. 24th, 2006|10:43 pm] |
"I turn the radio up, I turn the radio on, and this woman was singing my song..." Tara's voice echoes in the bathroom, the shower providing the perfect acoustics, the radio playing over by the sink, not half as loud as her singing. Her hair is wet, her eyes shut as the water runs over her face and into her ears, blocking much of the sound so that her own voice becomes the only thing she can hear. The mingled scents of the soap she'd made in their own kitchen fill her lungs, tension and worries swept away by the water and banished down the drain in the sink.
The sound of Tara's voice amdist the pattering and splashing of water bounces down the hall and into Shane's room, where she's still huddled up in bed. She yawns, rubbing at her eyes and rolling onto her back as she slowly wakes. It's still early and she could go back to sleep, but that would mean that she'd miss getting to hear her wife sing. So she closes her eyes again and sighs as she folds her hands on her stomach and listens.
Tara's a morning person. She'd rather see the sunrise because she got up early than because she stayed up late - it always feels like seeing it from the wrong end. It's long past sunrise now, though, and Tara's been up for a good forty minutes. Muffins are baking in the oven downstairs, the rich bakery smell slowly wafting up to the upper floor, and she has just enough time to wash before rescuing them and treating Shane to hot, steaming muffins in bed. ( You'd think it was a perfect morning, huh? But emo lurks... ) |
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| Thursday, late afternoon, #37C Kinney Building - Entirely WS! |
[Apr. 15th, 2006|02:06 pm] |
Shane lays stretched out on the couch in the living room, Dexter curled up in a tiny ball on her stomach, purring like a miniature boat motor. One of her hands rests on his small, furry body, but she's not petting him. The hand is still, as she's fallen sound asleep, her head having sunk off to one side, chin brushing the soft, worn cotton of her black t-shirt. She doesn't purr like Dexter, but then nobody's petting her, even in their sleep.
Tara's not an artist. Not even close to an artist. She can draw a little more accurately than stick figures, but not a great deal more. And yet here she is, with a pencil and a pad of paper in her lap, trying to capture the shape of Shane's hand, fingers slightly curled, graceful even in relaxation. She doesn't expect to succeed, but after watching Shane sleep for a good half-hour she stopped resisting the urge to try.
( Kittenness! )( Shane's first lover - and the beginning of a mission to find her. ) |
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| A lesson in Runes - Wednesday Night, Part two. NSFW |
[Apr. 14th, 2006|02:05 pm] |
With the pots and dishes from dinner scrubbed clean and sitting on the plate rack and counter to dry, Shane groaned as she crawled over the back of the couch and flopped down onto it, one hand going to her stomach. She couldn't remember eating that much in a long time, but Tara's food was always fantastic. If there was one piece of evidence that helped to back up her belief that a restaurant Tara opened would flourish, her hand was laying on it right now.
( A lesson in runes. NSFW ) |
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| Wednesday evening, #37C, Kinney Building - entirely worksafe! |
[Apr. 13th, 2006|11:58 am] |
"Hey," Tara murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch with spoon in hand, her left hand cupped protectively under it to catch any drips. "Can you taste this for me? Let me know what you think?"
Shane blinks for a moment as the spoon is lowered into her field of vision and she lets out a quiet chuckle. "Sure," she murmurs, leaning forward to taste a bit of whatever strange new concoction it is that her wife is formulating in the kitchen. "Mmm! That's amazing... what is that?"
"I'm... not sure," Tara replies, wrinkling her nose with a little laugh. "It started off as a pesto sauce, with basil and cashews, but then I decided I'd rather do something Asian than Italian, so it got lemongrass and kaffir leaves added, and coconut milk, and... yeah." She takes a taste herself, more confident now that she's got Shane's approval. "You, um... you remember how we were talking about what I, um... what I might do next semester? If I'm not teaching?"
( Plans for the future. ) |
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| Friday Evening, 37C, Kinney Building, Babylon || Part One, NSFW |
[Apr. 8th, 2006|02:35 pm] |
The 'official' study, upstairs, doesn't see a great deal of use. Tara prepares for her classes in her old bedroom, where her desk is set up. Shane usually studies in their room, or downstairs in the lounge room. Right now, though, Tara needs more space than her desk provides, cramped as it is with class materials. Piles of notes, spread out and colourcoded with post-its and highlighters, cover the desk in the study, and the little-used fireplace there is blazing merrily, filling the room with more heat than is strictly needed for a pleasant spring day. She hasn't worked this hard on a report since she was a student, but she's had a number of revelations recently about Evil - what it is, and how it's mediated - and the physical process of writing her research up sometimes brings new insights. At the very least, it should clarify her thoughts.
Shane pads up the stairs, a cup of steaming peppermint tea in one hand and a small dish in the other. She usually tries to give Tara her space and enough time so that she can finish her work without her getting underfoot, but her wife has been in there for quite some time. Definitely time for refreshments, though she'll try to get in and out as quickly and quietly as she can so that she doesn't disturb her wife. Shifting the dish in her hand, she light raps on the door before she nudges it open. "Hi," she says as she pokes her head through the small crack.
"Hi," Tara replies, taking the opportunity to stretch, and only realising when she does how long she's been sitting still, bent over her notes. "Come to save me?" she asks, a hopeful wrinkle of her nose accompanying the question. "I think I'm too close. I'm going round in circles again." Smelling the tea, Tara's eyes slide closed, and a smile grows across her face. "Gods, I love you, Shane McCutcheon."
Chuckling, she slips into the room and moves over to join Tara where she's seated at her desk. She places the mug of tea down, making sure not to set it on any of her papers, and places the dish beside it, which holds a chocolate croissant as well as a few choice pieces of fruit. "I love you, too," she mumurs, draping her arm around Tara's shoulders as she bends down a bit, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Mmm," Tara hums, winding her arms around Shane's back, craning her neck up in search of a deeper kiss. ( Take me away from all this? ) |
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| A gift from the Powers - Part 3 of 3, NSFW |
[Mar. 28th, 2006|11:04 pm] |
( More of that strange dream. And still NSFW. )
Tara wakes, her arm slung around her wife's waist. She feels exhausted, as if she hadn't gotten any sleep at all... but the dream resounds in her mind, not fading in the light of the morning the way so many do. "I love you," she whispers to her sleeping wife, snuggling back down to hold her.
They'd made a deal, Tara sleeps when Shane sleeps, and she's so very tired. There's no effort at all in closing her eyes again and drifting back into a sleep that is dreamless, this time. |
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| A gift from the Powers - Part 1 of 3 |
[Mar. 28th, 2006|10:55 pm] |
[ooc: This is kinda an AU piece. Shane has very graciously indulged me in the writing of it, because watching this season's L Word has just been tearing Tarainmyhead apart, and she wanted to try to fix it. Hence this - S3canon!Shane/FT!Tara. And yes, I feel better now. Thank you!]
( Tara dreams... ) |
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| After the Leather Ball at Triangle, part 4 (!!!) [NSFW] |
[Feb. 21st, 2006|11:33 pm] |
Tara closes her eyes, rocking slightly into that touch, reaching out a hand to rest on Shane's head, fingers curling slightly and toying with her hair. She sits back on the edge of the bed, hooking one foot around Shane's waist and gently drawing her closer, leaning forward for a kiss.
( Four parts. We win. ) |
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| After the Leather Ball at Triangle, part 3 [NSFW] |
[Feb. 21st, 2006|11:33 pm] |
Pressing another soft kiss to Shane's temple, Tara lets her eyes fall closed, just listening to her wife's breathing as it calms and slows and returns to its own, natural rhythm, feeling the rise and fall of her chest beneath their joined hands. Their bed feels consecrated, a sacred space formed by their love, and once again it occurs to her that she should give up the pretense of her own bedroom - especially now that Kate has moved into her own house - and remove the shadow of doubt as to whether she might be sharing Shane's bed on any given night.
Taking another breath, Shane reaches over and retrieves Tara's glass of champagne from the nightstand, lifting her head up from the pillow so that she can take a small sip. It's just a good thing that she hadn't done much drinking earlier at the club, otherwise she'd probably be in for a rough morning when she wakes up. "Baby...?"
( And it continues... ) |
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| After the Leather Ball at Triangle, part 2 [NSFW] |
[Feb. 21st, 2006|11:30 pm] |
"We should get off the floor," Shane whispers, though the movement of her hand never ceases, just in case Tara decides that she'd rather stay on the floor. She'll always give Tara whatever she wants, but making love to her on the hard, uncomfortable floor when the bed is so close and so inviting seems almost criminal.
"Yeah," Tara replies softly, nodding. Her fingers touch Shane's wrist gently, stilling her, as she climbs to her feet and extends a hand to help Shane up with her. "Bed," she murmurs. "With all these beautiful rose petals, and these satin sheets that are going to feel so good..."
( Torture lies within ) |
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brambless's journal
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