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Day in the Strife

No boom today, boom tomorrow. There's always a boom tomorrow.

Susan Ivanova

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December 29th, 2006

Ivanova was awoken . . .Collapse )

[[Dun dun DAH! As of now, Bester and his sidekick are roaming the station and being evil. Two by two, hands of black . . .]]

Open Air, Friday evening

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magical
There was one exclusive restaurant on Babylon 5, situated right over the hydroponics garden and thus the only part of the station not breathing recycled air. It drew the best chefs from across the known universe to its kitchen and reservations generally had to be made months in advance.

Unless, of course, one was a member of the station command staff.

Which is why Ivanova, Maia on her arm, was led past the line of dignitaries and disgustingly wealthy businessmen to a quiet little table for two tucked in the corner.

December 26th, 2006

Ivanova groaned in relief when Blair and River were finally settled in their seperate guest quarters and the first round of introductions had been made. She loved having them around - well, she loved having Blair around and River wasn't bad company, really - but finally alone meant finally alone with Maia.

She knew that Maia should move on. She knew that she should have ended their relationship months ago. She knew, she knew, she knew, but whenever she saw that little blonde head toss and saw those shining eyes turned towards her, she couldn't do it. Blonde telepaths and Babylon 5 made a bad combination for Ivanova.

She stepped into her quarters and called softly, wondering if she would be asleep already from the long day. "Maia?"

[[For, duh, Maia. Very NWS.]]

October 20th, 2006

Babylon 5, Friday evening

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blue smile
Ivanova nervously paced the unloading dock of the station, waiting for Zathras's ship to clear checks and unload. Maia had handwavily called, almost in tears because there was another Parents Weekend and her mother couldn't make it. So in a panic to stop the tears she had invited her for the weekend. After she had sworn up and down that she would try and stay out of Maia's life.

So, here she was. Nervous pacing. Well, as much as one could pace while leaning heavily on an all-too familiar cane. Her leg still hadn't entirely recovered from her adventures of the weekend before last, and her ribs were still more than a little tender. So not so much with the pacing, really.

August 29th, 2006

After returning from Theodoric's of York - ow, by the way, ow - Ivanova was left with the short but nonetheless depressing task of packing. She hadn't really done much unpacking to begin with, so it didn't take very long at all. That was perhaps even more depressing.

Well, she hadn't told many people when she was leaving, and she would be meeting Zathras the next morning so hopefully could slip away without a scene.

But for the moment she poured two glasses of Desmond's Elvish wine to see if it really worked.

[[Mostly for Mai, and I will be putting up a post tomorrow to say goodbye as well.]]

[[Maia thread is NWS, by the by. Any other visitors might want to add that they came in before she did.]]

August 26th, 2006

It's not goodbye, it's 'see you later'.

Sure felt like everyone was saying goodbye.

Be there to pick you up this afternoon, my ass.

Grr.

Ivanova eyed the bottle of vodka in her fridge. No drinking alone. Right. Stupid promises. So instead she was stretched out on her bed, swinging her legs, and flipping through travel brochures for the British Isles. No reason, really.

[[*eyes LJ*]]

August 24th, 2006

Ivanova breezed into her room, intending on a quick snack before she went right back out again.

Her computer had other plans.

"Incoming message from Babylon 5, from President John Sheridan, attention Susan Ivanova," it informed her calmly.

"Oh, shove it," Ivanova muttered from the interior of the fridge.

'Command not recognised.''Collapse )

"Take care, Susan."

"You, too, John."

The screen went black and Ivanova clenched her teeth, wanting to throw something at it. Or maybe throw it at something. She settled for stomping back into the kitchenette and clattering around in search of her snack. Growl.

[[Open for anyone. Especially those who may need snuggles.]]

August 8th, 2006

Ivanova balanced the pizza box in one hand, the bottle of pop - she was not having alcohol anywhere near this evening, thank you very much - dangling from the fingers of the same hand as she raised a hand to knock at the door to Maia's room.

Let's try this again.

August 3rd, 2006

Ivanova glared at the world from behind dark shades, cradling an overly large waterbottle.

Never. Drinking. Again.

"Alright, you lot, get in here or I'll volunteer you all to the baking class for snickerdoodles. Today we'll be talking threats.

"Your first and most important lesson of the day is - be specific." She held up a finger. "A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. If you're going to hurt them, let them know exactly where and how much. Nothing is worse than a vague "I oughta . . ." and then trailing off into nothing. Keep things visceral. Know what you're talking about. The more realistic the threat, the greater the likelihood that it will be acted upon, are you following?"

She took a long drink of water. "The last couple of classes have been about keeping up a theme or a metaphor. With threats, you'll want to do the same thing. Using yours surroundings is always good - again, the more realistic the threat, the scarier it is. In my career, for example, I work on a space station so my threats generally involve nuclear reactors and airlocks. In this sort of setting, the general weirdness of Fandom is a bonus - I'll feed you to the Jell-o dragons, etc., etc."

Another drink. "Last thing before I unleash you. There are three major types of insults - direct, indirect, and non-verbal. Direct threats would be along the lines of, "If you don't shut up, I'm going to throw you out an airlock." Indirect threats are more statements of fact. "There's an airlock right over there, and I've heard there's no sound in space." These are slightly more tricky and often require the right attitude and tone to pull them off. Then you have non-verbal." She made a slicing motion across her throat, glared, and pointed at what can be assumed to be the airlock in this scenario.

"You know the drill, pair up, threaten each other. Next week we'll be changing it up a bit. I'll eavesdrop and see if I can give some pointers. But if you try to threaten me today, I will take it personally." She was sooooo not in the mood. "Oh, and I want to see all three types. Try to keep things from descending into a brawl."

[[True to my word, I didn't drink on a Wednesday night. Even if my girl did. There was a massive storm last night - tornado warning, yay! - complete with horizontal rain, thunder, lightning, hail, gale-force winds, the works. I was stuck up in Georgetown at a friend's house with no internet access. Hence my interaction yesterday being a single lonely comment from Jude. Also! Work has gotten canny and stuck both meebo and LJ behind a firewall, so I can't do anything during the day again. Woe to me.

Also, I love you guys. Reading the things you come up with gives me great joy. I'm sorry to drop some threads, but really, I'm not a machine. Most of the time I'm laughing too hard to continue. You all deserve cookies for being so enthusiastic and snarktastic.]]

July 28th, 2006

Ivanova hadn't slept. And not in a good way. She had tossed and turned. She gotten up and paced. She had counted sheep. And she had done the one thing she didn't want to do - think.

Although she had laughed and joked about it and grinned and ate ice cream, seeing Seras had been hard. Hard watching her move, because she definitely wasn't Dora in those moment. Her face was almost the same, but different in the little details.

Dawn had broken, rosy and cheerful, when Ivanova decided to even give up the pretense of trying to sleep any more. Purposefully, she called up the recording that she hadn't listened to since it was made. She listened to it all the way through, and then set it to play again. It was old news, but that wasn't why she listened to it. Tonks' first, last, and only Fandom Radio broadcast. Her voice, chipper and so painfully, painfully familiar. What was Ivanova doing? Tonks had been the first for her since . . . a hard swallow past the lump in her throat. Since Talia. Not a day passed when she didn't think of her witch. Or not a day had passed. She wasn't so sure that was true any more. Ivanova couldn't wait to get out of Fandom once she had gone. So why was she back here again, instead of out there. Out there, where it was gleaming metal and gas and no traces of magic.

". . . says Cammie was detained. I'm certain. And, in Herbology-or-whatever-you-lot-call-it, the students learn about growth factors. Sounds fascinating. Office hours . . ."

She thought of Maia. She thought of Maia and her adoring glances and hot, horny sex and she felt suddenly sick, sick at her own behaviour. How could Ivanova have let herself turn into this, this teen-spirit slut? Tonks was gone. The woman she loved was gone. And Ivanova was playing with whipped cream and cuddling by campfires.

She disgusted herself.

With a growl, Ivanova unearthed the bottle of vodka Edmund had given her and took a long, healthy swig. The recording beeped as it ended. Ivanova set it to loop.

"Wotcher! This is Tonks, bringing you the latest and broadcasting for Fandom Radio! Charmed, huh?"

It was going to be a long day.

[[Door is closed, but the post isn't. Come and emo with the Russian. And nobody emos like the Russians emo.]]

July 23rd, 2006

Last night after untangling herself from Dean, Ivanova had headed straight for Koala. But, peeking through the window and seeing Maia asleep, she just couldn't bring herself to wake the other girl. She was still offbalance from the events of the day and, frankly, she was too scared to talk to her right now. Instead, Ivanova had gone back to Flamingo and taken the longest, hottest shower she could stand. She had heard the water running in the other bathroom and had a sneaking suspicion that Anakin might be in the same condition she was.

A small, evil, Garibaldi-groomed corner of her mind whispered to enter in only a towel and ask if Leo wanted to come out and play.

She didn't. She did, however, brush her teeth for almost an hour to try and get the taste of nictoine and tar out of her mouth before collapsing into bed. Her last thoughts before sleeping were compiling a list of people she had to apologise to, and thanking whatever god had taken the day off today that Blair, at least, wasn't on it.

Which brought her here, standing outside Koala Cabin. All traces of Rizzo were gone but a fading tobacco stain on one finger and reddened hickies on her neck, hidden at the moment with a fall of hair. She took a deep breath and tossed a pebble at Maia's window.

"Maia!"
It hadn't been too hard to entice Kenickie away from the big finale bonfire, and Rizzo was ruthlessly taking advantage of the situation. She wasn't the only one, either, with her top almost half-off already and her hands under Kenick's shirt as she kissed him eagerly, pressing close, rubbing thighs, all those lovely little hallmarks of a serious makeout session.

And then . . . Rizzo wasn't home any more.

Ivanova froze.

July 8th, 2006

What she was doing was very bad, very wrong, and she would be going to hell if she weren't Jewish. Her duffel bag was dumped by the door and, using the skills learned in that ever-so-practical shop class, quickly picked the lock on Maia's door. She stepped inside and closed the door silently behind her. Running water and a light from the bathroom told her that Maia was indeed in. She was glad that Maia hadn't been in the room itself. After all, holograms didn't use doors or lockpicks.

Now, to wait.

[[Maia modded with permission, yo.]]

May 23rd, 2006

Arrival

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zathras otp
Ivanova stood at the end of the long bridge, all her worldly possesions in the duffel bag at her feet. She took a deep breath, exhaling and trying to send all traces of EarthForce from her. That was for the future. Right now there was a dark city looming ahead of her, a university to attend, a life to build. She slung the bag over her shoulder, lifting it easily for all its heft.

She turned slightly to the hunched alien by his ship, gleaming in the last rays of the sun. "This is my stop," she said dryly. "Thanks for the lift, Zathras." They both knew her 'thank you' encompassed a lot more than the ride from Proxima III two hundred and some years in the future.

Zathras nodded. "Ivanova is being very welcome."

She turned away, setting one foot on the bridge.

"Zathras have message from the One."

"Oh?" Ivanova asked, pausing but not turning.

"The One is saying, 'May the gods stand between you and harm in all the dark places in which you must walk'."

Ivanova didn't say anything, but the blessing made her lips curve into a smile as she walked away from Zathras and into the city.

[[She's here, she's queer, she's ridiculously snarky! Iiiiiit's Ivanova!]]

OOC: The Big Damn Info Post

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mun
Alright. I won't go over every detail of Ivanova's past, as you can find a very thorough and accurately reference biogrpahy here and a good character profile here. I quite like the opening line of that one: "A Russian Jew, who has lost all of her blood relatives to various tragedies, and has never done well in romances, Susan is an odd combination of perky, paranoid, hopeful and fatalistic."

But there are a few points I'd like to stress, as well as where she stands in her personal canon.

Telepathy.Collapse )

Love.Collapse )

Sex.Collapse )

Fandom.Collapse )

And that's about it, really. A couple of small notes: Ivanova is thirty-one, but her body is physically around twenty-one. It's 2261 where she comes from.

OOC: The Great Machine

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OOV
Just a quick OOC note on the Great Machine for those of you interacting with my girl though Fandom High. Yes, it's a bit of a deus ex machina, but that's how the Great Maker wrote it so I'm just going with it.

Cut for nerd.Collapse )

May 14th, 2006

In which Zathras goes back on his word.Collapse )

Ivanova glanced up at Zathras. "When do we leave?"

[[Herein marks the end of the Fandom High and the beginning of the FandomTropolis. It was fun. Here we come, bright lights, big city.]]

May 9th, 2006

Ivanova slipped into Maia's room after the party. She had had a bit to drink at this point and was already sniffly, sniffles that got decidedly worse after she moved over to Maia.

May 8th, 2006

Room 217, Monday morning

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crying
Ivanova woke up, rolled, and stretched, trying not to wake Maia as she did so. Her arm came down to settle over her eyes as the realisation crashed in that this was it. Graduation. Tomorrow morning she was just . . . gone. Back to her own time, her own place, no where near this strange little island with gremlins and zombies and snowmonsters and locker-vortices and pigtailed pirates and alchemists and vampires and so, so many happy memories.

Dammit. Now she was crying, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

She didn't want to leave.

[[NWS. Except for G'Kar's visit, because ew. Although he does, apparently, look stunning in pink.]]
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