bakerstreet | rain, rain, go away

rain, rain, go away

the rain meme

Ah, rain—the precipitation that the whole world has a love/hate affair with. It waters the garden for free and ruins baseball games. It cools you off in the summer and it causes more ice and sleet to appear in the winter. Sometimes it is lovely and falls at a decent pace for a few hours, other times, it blasts the whole eastern seaboard away.

Poems and songs have been written about it, people have danced in it, others have cursed its entire existence, and still more refuse to go out and drive in it.

Now it’s time to roll some dice and see what the weather will have in store for you today.

directions

1. Comment with your character, series, preferences, etc in the subject.
2. Roll a number between 1-5 with the RGN for an intensity.
3. Roll 1-15 with the RGN for a situation.
4. Reply to other comments and play the scenario out!
5. Don’t catch a cold!

intensity

1. DRIZZLE ☂ It’s not too heavy or too light of a downpour, just enough to wash away stuff in the air, water the ground, and clean up the streets.

2. MONSOON ☂ It’s horrible and awful! Rain is coming down in buckets, no one can get anywhere, the wind is whipping everything about, and now the cable is out.

3. SHOWER ☂ Reminds you of early spring, doesn’t it? A nice shower to make everything all green and smell fresh again. Lovely.

4. FLOOD ☂ While rain is good, it can sometimes be bad. Grab a boat!

5. CATS & DOGS ☂ You’re lucky with this one. It’s not the worst storm in the world, but it’s still pretty heavy. Be careful when driving!

prompts

1. A DARK, STORMY NIGHT ☂ You know all those stories that start off with a stormy night before something goes wrong: a murder, an attack by ninjas, a crime. It is one of the best known clichés in the world, and you’re stuck in the middle of it.

2. HUMIDITY ☂ It’s that time of the year again when the humidity rises and the rain has two options: make it worse or make it go away. Good luck getting the latter.

3. GRAY RAIN OF DEPRESSION ☂ We all know this one. Stuck in the middle of no where, or right after an argument, or something that leads to angst, the rain decides to express someone’s feelings in a physical form, serious or over the top.

4. QUIET MORNING ☂ Nothing to do, nowhere to be… sometimes the rain is a welcomed addition to a quiet day. Gives you an excuse to stay in, curl up in a warm blanket and a book, maybe a loved one or a cup of hot chocolate. With sprinkles.

5. PUDDLES ☂ After it rains, what is the number one thing you have to do? Go put on some rubber boots and splash around of course!

6. SUDDEN STORM ☂ It might have been predicted, but sometimes storms just sweep in and do their thing with little to no warning. Hope you’re not outside.

7. THUNDER & LIGHTNING ☂ Loud, surprising, scary, ominous, comforting, fantastic to watch or listen to… some like thunder and lightning, others not so much. Of course, if this happens before a big confrontation, the universe is telling you something.

8. CAN’T GET WORSE ☂ You did not say that. You did not just say that. How many times does this need to be seen in movies and books before anyone learns?

9. STUCK ☂ No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening. What happened to the ten percent chance of rain? You forgot your umbrella and now you’re stuck in it!

10. RUINED PLANS ☂ You had all these wonderful plans to go outside, have some fun in the sunshine, do some errands, maybe a date… and the weather goes against them.

11. DANCING ☂ Sometimes rain is a cause for celebration, or you just feel like doing something spontaneous. Grab someone to join you and get wet!

12. RAIN BATTLE ☂ The most intense, important battles happen in the rain. Verbal spars, punching someone in the guts; it’s all dramatic and climatic. And no one slips.

13. DATE ☂ Aww, don’t let the weather ruin your date! It can be really romantic, being out in the rain, and it’s always fun to go with the flow.

14. A DAY INSIDE ☂ Sometimes, it’s just better to stay inside and enjoy something simple and easy like board games or catching up on TV shows, or maybe the bills.

15. WILD CARD ☂ Was there something I missed? Did you want to roll again or choose your own adventure? Go for it!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

The voice wasn't one of the usual voices that called him off. The words were in the wrong language. He was called a name instead of just being bluntly ordered.

For one moment, his arm quivered as he fought between instincts - to follow orders or to continue the mission. But the thought came through. This wasn't a mission. This was like a mission, but it wasn't a mission.

He had taken this upon himself.

Slowly, he let go, the robber dropping first to his feet, then to his knees. Unconscious, but alive. "Need to find tape," he muttered. "Tape their wrists and ankles so they can't get away."

Clark nodded.

"I've got a small roll of duck tape in my briefcase, in case the corner comes off," he tells Jim as he leans down to get it out of the ratty old leather bag. He holds it out to Jim a moment later with a half-smile, absolutely nothing changed between before and after Jim had singlehandedly taken out three men.

"The other one, I'll just use my tie. Ma hated that one anyway."

He pulls it out of the briefcase as well and pads over to the first man Jim had knocked out, taking care to tie the knots tightly enough to hold him but not too tightly so as to inhibit circulation.

"Now we just have to figure out what, exactly, they were smuggling in the food crates. It sounds like they hadn't pulled them out yet."

'Jim' was an old hand at that. Within just a few moments, he had them securely taped and laid out alongside one another, military-precise. "I heard one say something about bags, not wanting to look for all of them."

"I heard-- Saints preserve us," whispered a nun from the door. "What is all this?"

"I heard someone sneaking around while I was on my way to the bathroom." Easy explanation. "Came in, they were climbing out of the floor."

The priest who came up behind her at her gasp of shock took in the scene and then shifted his weight, looking as if he was going to say something scathing;Clark moved faster than any normal human to catch his hand, squeezing just a little to make him drop the knife that he'd been about to use on the poor, unsuspecting nun before looking the man straight in the eyes. The priest almost looked like he might start yelling when Clark covered his mouth and turned to the nun, who seemed absolutely horrified that the father had been about to murder her.

"Sister, if you could perhaps call the police. I... I think it may be a necessity at this point."

"I-- I think you're right, young man," she managed, stammering from the shock of it all. "I'll... go take care of that call."

'Jim' moved to the priest Clark was holding, taking his arms and taping them just like he had the others. It was, unfortunately, the end of the tape, but that was good enough. It had done what they needed it to do.

But with all of that done, he shook his head. "I have to go," he said. Before the police arrived, he had to be gone. They'd recognise him from DC. The world had to know about that now. And Clark...

He pushed past Clark, ignoring the nuns as he went. He'd not really eaten, but he'd survived on less before. He couldn't be where the police were.

But Clark was turning around with him, following him, no, running with him side by side.

Given what he'd done, given what the nun had seen, given the fact that his face wasn't exactly something he wanted in the papers (words yes, pictures no)...

This was one news story he'd need to leave to someone else. It wasn't like he couldn't claim he'd gotten lost getting there, after all. New city, new bus routes... he'd milk Smallville all he could.

"What are you doing?" The anger in his tone was natural. He was being followed and that was the last thing he needed. His instinct was to turn around and fight, but he'd seen what Clark could do, too. His speed, his glasses, his way of knowing when something was going on...

"Friend of Rogers'?" he demanded even as he rounded a corner, more than sure that Clark would follow along. "Sent to track me down?"

"Getting out of there, same as you," he said honestly, not even huffing as he matched 'Jim's speed.

"And I don't know who you're talking about."

He really REALLY doesn't.

"We'll see."

Trust was not something easily won as it came to the man who had been originally been known as James Buchanan Barnes. Not after what memories that were clear echoed through his mind.

He didn't stop moving until he was four blocks away. Not breathless, with the faintest sheen of perspiration on his face. His clothes weren't made for this, but he'd had to hide his tac suit. That meant he had to make do with what he had. So dressed in tattered clothes, he'd ran an easy four blocks, and turned to face Clark with sparks in his eyes. "Start explaining."

He pauses beside Jim and looks deeply conflicted for a moment before breathing out with a sigh. This whole 'pretend to be a normal guy while helping people secretly' thing had already gotten mucked up, but it looked like there was a very good chance that he'd made an ally as much as he'd made a mistake.

"Can we go back to my place? It's..." he glances out at the city.

"It's a long story. And not one I want to have in public."

He looked at Clark, more glaring than just looking, and weighing his options. It was possible now, he thought, that Clark could hurt him. It was possible he'd have another fight on his hands the same way he'd fought Captain America. But Clark didn't seem to have an interest in fighting him.

He'd risk it, he decided. It wasn't as if he was defenseless. "I'll give you a chance."

Clark breathed out in relief.

"I really appreciate that. More than I think I can convey."

He tipped his head towards a side street.

"I'll show you the second fastest way to my apartment. It's not too far away."

'Jim' nodded once and walked toward that sidestreet. If Clark was showing him to his apartment, that certainly showed some trust. It was up to him to decide if Clark was being foolhardy with that trust. His mind was half and half. He could see how to use that against him, and yet, fueled by whomever he was past the haze of amnesia, he didn't want to use anything against him.

The two halves would have to reconcile eventually. He just wished that would be sooner than later. The conflict was enough to drive him to distraction.

Clark kept walking until they reached a semi-crumbling building. Then he pulled out his keys, unlocked the front, and held the door after him for Jim to follow.

"I'm on the fourth floor. No elevator, unfortunately."

"I can handle four floors." And he did, taking two steps at a time. He wasn't particularly long-legged, but he was fit. Four floors, to him, was nothing. Though after the fight, the run, the walk, and then the climbing, he was breathing just a little heavier than he had been before. It took a lot to get him that way. He'd had a lot to go through today.

Clark trotted up the stairs like he hadn't just run anywhere and makes his way down the hall to a ramshackle little apartment that's obviously seen better days. He pulls out his other key, unlocks it, and heads right in, leaving the door open again.

He's picked up that Jim isn't too fond of showing people his back.

The apartment's pretty spartan, and it's obvious he wasn't lying about having just arrived. Clark's been living out of a suitcase for the most part and it shows. But the place is clean, and it's been made up as well as it possibly can be, and it's obviously habit how he puts down the briefcase.

As he looked around, his mind catalogued entrances and exits. He could jump out the window, off the fire escape easily. Break down the door he'd just come through.

Why would he have to? He grit his teeth and made himself not think about those things as he pushed the door closed and followed that with pulling off his hat. He had definite hat hair, especially as long as it was, down to his collar. A cue for another intrusive thought: how could he have let his hair get this long? He had even shaved since--

Since leaving Steve.

But he hadn't thought to cut his hair. Should he? He was known to be long-haired. But he would look more like James Buchanan Barnes with shorter hair. Maybe the answer was to grow it even longer.

Another shake of his head and he turned to face Clark again. There were greater things at stake. "We're in private," he said. "Now you can explain."

Clark doesn't speak immediately. Instead, he pulls off his suit jacket, takes off his glasses, and straightens his hair. He stands up to his full height, swallows, and pulls aside the white dress shirt he'd been wearing.

And the pieces might start to come together if 'Jim's seen any of the news footage around the damage done to a good portion of the city.

"Like I said. It's a long story. And I'm guessing you've got one too."

He'd seen newspapers, TV shows -- enough to know that SHIELD wasn't the only hero business in town. The glasses removed, the costume. He should have seen it before, but he knew very well that people only saw what they were looking for. He had covered himself in expectations to make sure people only saw a wandering homeless man instead of Hydra's favourite asset. "You're right," he said quietly. "I do."

He didn't choose to reveal everything, though. All he did was pull the glove from his left hand, showing the shining metal that curved and jointed in a mockery of human anatomy.

Clark just nods, and buttons up his shirt.

"I could hear it," he admits.

"It's not... I wasn't trying to lure you into anything. I just figured it was an advanced prosthetic."

He looks at Jim for another minute before heading to his little kitchen and pulling out a beer. The top pops off easy enough before he holds it out for the other man.

"I've got non-alcoholic options as well if this is a problem."

He could hear it. Even with as careful and as quiet as he'd been, Clark could hear it. His eyes slightly narrowed as he thought about what he'd just heard, and the more he thought, the more sense it made. That was probably how he'd known about the people coming into the mission. And him wanting to be gone before the police got there - yes, it did make sense. "I don't know if it is or isn't," he said as he took the bottle, wrapping metallic fingers around the glass. "I haven't had a drink since--"

Since when? The forties, surely. He lifted the bottle, drank, and found the taste was familiar. Deja vu in alcoholic form. "Since a long time ago."

"I've got a couple more in the fridge," he admits as he pulls one out for himself, "but after that, we'll have to run by the shop down on the corner."

He heads for the couch and lets himself drop down onto it with a protesting squeal.

"I'm sorry about today. I'm still working out how this whole thing is going to go. I really was there trying to get a story done. But I guess I'm not--" he smiles at Jim a little "I'm not very good at staying out of it when things need doing."

"You remind me of Rogers." The last name he'd given - obviously a pseudonym, now. He didn't care. If anything, he figured Clark had already known the name he gave was fake. "He always--"

Always. Fights in... in alleyways...

"Always gets in trouble."

He takes a long pull from the beer bottle.

"That's funny, because I've spent my life staying out of trouble. This is kinda new for me."

He gives 'Jim' a crooked smile.

"And here I'd thought that was pretty obvious."

"You ran into a situation that could've gotten you killed." If he were a normal human, anyway. "People who stay out of trouble don't do that."

He took another swallow of the beer. It didn't seem to do anything to him so far, but he was only two drinks in.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject