bakerstreet | (no subject)

((#2 can be either regular or space airport for this guy.))

Edited 2014-05-27 21:37 (UTC)

((OTA, no shipping))

(This future King of England is incredibly bored at a formal party for his brother the King and his new wife. If you'd prefer a Modern!AU the same setting applies just more...well, modern.)

(No finale spoilers, please!)

Instead of the stale city air of Baltimore or the surrounding area, the first scent that washed across Hannibal Lecter was that of the ocean. Salt and sand rushed to fill his senses with the reek of cheap cologne (the kind that came in a bottle) trailing along behind it. From outside the ship's hull that held him, the slap of small ocean waves could be heard. The lack of seagull cries spoke of them being far away from land.

Strange. Shouldn't it have been Lecter's kitchen or the hospital or... something recognizable?

From the deck came the sound of a male talking to himself as he trimmed the sails.

[mostly m/m for shipping, unless you've got a Lois ;3]

[I'm cool with shippy stuff or not shippy stuff, and also not that great with DCU so let me know if something doesn't work?]

[The worst part about being a freelance translator is also sometimes hand in hand with the best part. Fancy parties. On one hand it's a free invitation to a party he'd never get into on his own. On the other hand, they're occasionally boring enough to make him want to jump out the nearest window and hope no one notices.

This time he's relieved that the person he's here to translate for found a 'companion' and decided to sneak off with her. Live, in-person translation is so much worse than any other kind, and occasionally filled with moments when he'd really like to tell people off in multiple languages. Instead he gives excuses for his employer in three different languages and tries to avoid getting cornered by people who can ruin his career if he gets snarky with them.

There's a balcony, and he knows that just running away is the immature and impulsive thing to do... but the other half of him is figuring out if he can get away with it. The drop is too short to hurt him as long as he doesn't hit anything before he's ready.

Except once he gets out there he's not the only person on the balcony. Witness. Good for him. Bad for his immature impulse to run away.]

"If you're thinking of jumping, I wouldn't recommend it," Clark says, an immediate and kind smile on his face. His fingers, which oddly look too big for his hands sometimes, adjust the glasses on his handsome, plain face as he approaches. "I've already thought about it, and the pavement looks very unforgiving from this height."

Unless you've got Kryptonian powers that leave you pretty much invincible to that sort of thing. But well, surely this mild-mannered reporter doesn't!

"I take it you don't come to these things too often," he adds, offering his hand. "Unfortunately, I'm trapped at most of them. Clark Kent."

"Just needed to get some air. I think I accidentally used Mexican Spanish instead of Spain Spanish back there," Jayden says, tapping his translator ID badge. He leans over to look at the pavement. It does look bad. Worse than it would be with a small self-application of his own powers... but knowing that and dealing with the long-held instincts of not-dying are two different things.

"I prefer to do my translating from the safety of my laptop, all things considered." Where no one can care if he acts like an adult all the time or not. He shakes the offered hand. "Morgan Jayden. Equally trapped at most of these things."

A firm handshake from Clark, and an impressed grin to go with it. "A translator, huh? I guess I shouldn't joke that I don't know the difference between Mexican and Spain Spanish in that case." He laughs, releasing Morgan's hand and leaning on the rail beside him. He's drinking, but there's not a drop of alcohol in his cup - just Coke.

"Seriously. I took two years of Spanish in high school, but in Metropolis, I don't really have to speak en Espanol very often." Yep. En Espanol. Clark is so white, forgive himmm.

"The difference is about fifty dollars an hour, give or take," The joke slips out before the part of Jayden's brain responsible for censoring his words catches up with the part that thinks up things to say. Oops.

"Sorry. Translator humor." His own grin is slightly embarrassed, and he takes another sip from his champagne glass. Just not too much alcohol and he'll be okay. "You don't travel much? You should get out there before you forget it all."

With a laugh, Clark nods. He gets it, actually, which is more than he can say for the kind of jokes people close to him make. He's not one for crass humor, so silly, 'bad' jokes are usually some of his favorites.

"I...try to get out when I can, but my job keeps me in the city mostly." His job does. His real job lets him travel anywhere he pleases. "You must travel a lot then, I take it?"

"Travel writing is my other job. Keeps me fresh for translating, and I get to see the world. Well, the parts sane people are willing to visit, at least," Jayden says. There's a bit of wistfulness in that last sentence. There are a lot of places he would love go to that most people would probably never consider a good time.

"You should try it. All work, no play, etc." Biased? Jayden's not biased at all about travel as a form of enjoyment.

His other other job actually lets him visit some of those places but he's still not totally sold on it.

do you mean m/m for ships, or just m/m period

[hah, if Aoba doesn't wind up bonking whoever he's trapped with, it would be a miracle. So most likely m/m for everything.]

(I'll also accept options like monster of the week attacks or whatever if you can live with my current lack of proper Cure Marine icons.)

[idk want to try being trapped on an island?]

[ ooh, yes please! and also good luck with that D: ]

[Apparently, the worst time to become shipwrecked is with a God that cannot fly. Loki was going to help him wreck chaos and destruction on his current enemies, but the ship had hit some rocks, leaving the crew to either drown of float around on driftwood while Achilles and Loki were able to swim to a nearby island.

And then the question arose as to how they would eventually escape said island.]

Another ship will come by eventually. We only have to wait. [Shipwrecks are common, if not embarrassing. Achilles has no desire to be rescued, but even less to die on a deserted island.]

[ for the record, flying is overrated. it's nauseating and unsettling and it's absolute torture on the hair. that's why Loki doesn't like to fly, and why he leaves that sort of horrid adventure to the hammer throwing gods.

it would figure that the one time he decided to be helpful to someone else would be the same time everything would go wrong. a shipwreck, a barren island (as far as he could tell,) and a headstrong blonde idiot that Loki should've known not to go along with. ]

Fantastic. [ he's soaked from the swim, wringing out his hair and coat, obviously unhappy with the situation as anyone would be. ] We'll just stand out here, in the burning sand and blazing sun, for the next several hours - days, perhaps, before the next ship arrives and hits the same rocks ours did. Splendid.

[Achilles doesn't mind the situation quite as much. He knows how to hunt, he's used to living on these hot islands, and he's certain a shipwreck will attract other vessels that won't make the same mistake their bumbling crew did.]

Save the drama for the poets.

[He smirks, stepping through the wet sand as he starts to survey the island.]

[ it figures the Greek is just peachy keen with this whole situation. and it would be fine if they found themselves on a tropical, balmy paradise. but noooo, no no. the biggest problem is the sun, and Loki can already feel himself starting to melt into the sand below. bad day to be a frost giant. ]

And what do you propose we do until our rescuers come to our aid, hm?

[ Loki follows along, but more so he could for some shelter from the sun, hopefully before he turns into a bitchy puddle. ] I could come up with a limerick if you'd prefer.

Well, we could gather wood and create a bonfire for ships to see.

[There are trees, so they could easily gather wood. Or more likely than not he will gather wood while the god watches. But Achilles doesn't mind- he'll be able to gloat when everything turns out the way he suspected.]

Can't you do anything too? Or are you one of the less useful gods?

[He asks while heading toward the trees, keeping an eye out for loose branches.]

[ oh yay a bonfire in the blazing sun in the middle of summer with no cloud cover oh joy upon joys!!

a.k.a eyeroll ]

Incredibly less useful, I'm afraid. My talent is in tricks, not ship repair.

[ and poetry, apparently. Loki doesn't lift a finger to help, because that's dirty work and dirty work is for plebians, but he will follow along and be as annoying as possible until they find shelter from this blasted sun. ]

There once was a man named Achilles,
Who thought sailing the ocean'd be a breeze.
Caught his ship on a rock,
Found a knife in his cock,
For his god friend he could not appease.

And I've seriously started questioning why I thought bringing you along was a good idea.

[He sighs while gathering the wood himself, not at all amused by Loki's poetry. Although... it does rhyme, so he'll give him that.]

Why don't you go look for fresh water somewhere else?

[Really. Go be useless and annoying on your own.]

It's because I'm pretty. You don't have to hide it any longer.

[ and his poetry is flawless tyvm.

rather than going off on his own, it seems as though he's changed his mind, and continues trailing after the Greek. he rolls his sleeves up, getting too warm, but not quite enough yet to just start stripping to his skin. ]

And now you're pushing me away? I thought we had something special.

That is about all you are.

[With as much wood as he can carry, Achilles starts back toward the shore. It's going to take much more than this to make a proper signal, but it's a start.]

Lay with me tonight, and then we will have something special.

[And back to the trees he goes. This is going to take awhile.]

Don't forget poetic.

[ but really why bother with anything else? as long as he's hot stuff there's no need to worry about other personality imperfections. that shit's for losers.

also wow, somebody's blunt. Loki watches him go off, and can't help preening a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. ]

Shall I search for a patch of grass, then? We don't want to get any sand in unfortunate places.

Ah yes, how could I?

[Achilles looks back over his shoulder at the question.]

Go ahead. You will be the one on your back, after all!

[ ooh he's just getting all hot and bothered already. ]

Somebody's presumptuous.

[ he turns and starts making his way further along the coast, eventually finding that shady patch of grass near some trees. still too warm though, so clearly it's time to start shedding all these layers. ]

[Just try not to melt on him]

[While Loki is hunting for shade, Achilles is busy piling up wood. Eventually he's satisfied with what he has and starts a fire with some effort. If there are any ships nearby, one will surely see that.

And now to find Loki. Who is... not wearing very much anymore.]

Did you find any fresh water?

[ no promises.

it is more bearable in the shade at least. Loki's grass patch is cozy, shaded, his outerwear folded up neatly near the base of the tree, leaving him in only his pants and thin emerald green tunic. much better. ]

There's a stream further down that way. [ he gestures off behind him, otherwise passing the time by braiding his hair. ] As I was not given canteens or tankards to collect the water into, I only remembered the way there.

[Truly the most useless god. Achilles sighs, then heads off in the indicated direction in search of the river. He needs a drink and a wash after all that work in the sun.

When he returns, he sits himself down on the grass patch next to Loki, shoving him aside a little with his shoulder to make sure he's also enjoying the shade fully.]

That's better.

[ wow excuse you, you're the one who invited him instead of the party gods. Achilles should be damn honoured for his company jfc.

that shove (by the way, rude) does make him move over, just enough, and not without a scoff and roll of his eyes. he finishes working on his hair, a simple but neat braid draped over his shoulder. ]

That's a matter of opinion.

OOC I have Jessica here, if you are cool with that? I will throw up a post.

Definitely throw away! Any preferred canon point?

Awesome. How about season 4? When the protesters were outside Fangtasia, and maybe she got caught inside with Eric?

Sounds good, everyone else can be off on errands so they have the place to themselves. I can start or would you like to?

[Jessica should not have come back to Fangtasia on her own like she had on this evening. She had come here running from the life she could not handle anymore. It had become boring, and regimented, and full of Hoyt trying to make her into something that she wasn't ever going to be. Cooking, cleaning, being a housefrau? Yeah, fuck that!

So, she told Hoyt that she was going out to buy aspirin, and then fucked off to Fangtasia where she reconnected with that human that had been hitting on her the other evening when she was with Hoyt, and went inside the ladies room to drink from him. It had been something that she desperately needed-- even if Sookie had ruined the moment for her.

When she was done, and also done telling off Sookie, Jessica came back out to dance the night away. Totally forgetting her woes at having to deal with Hoyt making her into a house pet. She must have lost track of time as the place thinned out, and when she thought she should be leaving? The place had been swarmed with humans outside the front door, and the back entrance who felt the need to protest. There was no way possibly to get out--even as she tried to sneak out with the last of the dregs, but that didn't happen for her because that was when the group got overrun by those humans, and were being bombarded by cameras, insults, fists, and probably worse.

Now what did she do? It seemed like the place was pretty much empty, and she had no idea how to get out. Nor did she want to call Hoyt to come and get her, because she told him that she had been going out to do an errand for him.

She hadn't heard Eric walking up behind her at the door, as Jessica tried to look out to see if there might be some kind of way to actually escape? ]

[Eric places a hand above her head on the door jam, he thinks nothing of the hand he places to her waist to shift the young vampire a bit out of his way while he casts a glance out the door.

The vampire sighs; oh he could go out there and dispatch each and every human without so much as breaking a sweat as humans put it. But, that would bring retribution down on Fangtasia and him.]

Breathers.....

[When he steps back his hand on her hip drags away and Eric shuts the door even if she is still looking out.

He moves back toward the bar; he had to go down for a break and had sent Pam out, Tara went with her. A glance around showed him that other than him and Jessica the rest had made it safely out.]

Come away from the door Jessica, we'd have to kill at least a few of them to escape.

[Jessica feels his presence before she sees him. He is so tall, and now he is leaning over her back, but when he places a hand on her waist? Jessica gasps a bit, and turns her head to look up toward him--eyes wide. His hand is large against her side, and she can feel how sturdy, and built he is when he does move behind her, but then he pushes her off to the side a bit so he can get a better look before he closes the door. (If she had a pulse, or a heart at all? It would be beating out of her chest right now.)

When he speaks, she can only nod, and stare a bit. But then he is moving away from her, and back into the bar. She is about to look outside again when he asks her to come away from the door. ]

I need ta get home though, whadja mean, kill them? I thought we weren't allowed to touch them cause of the cameras? Like, how am I 'sposed ta get home? [She asks him in a slightly panicked voice. Hoyt is going to give her more shit when he hears about this, and how she left to come here when she promised him something else completely.]

[Eric is not unaware of the effect he has; in truth his movements were purposeful. He could have ordered her to move and she would have. The same as she came away from the door at his request.

He listened to her but did not speak again till he reached the throne where he usually set and his frame sprawled into it with a lazy air.]

You won't be going home till they disperse. Because of the cameras, if I kill even one of them it will bring retribution down on the bar. You can stay here the night if they don't go.

[To the point, he even has a solution if she brings up that weak breather she is dating. Eric can cover all the bases in a pinch rather quickly and this is exactly one of those times it is needed.]

[If her face could have blanched, it would have, she felt a bit sick now. She just stood there for a few moments, and really thought about it. Then she came to a conclusion, she felt sick about it because she really didn't feel sick about spending the night away from Hoyt.

In truth? He was getting on her goddamn nerves lately. Spying into her computer, demanding she cook for him, clean, be home for him. Plus, what was that shit about her blood, and him being disgusted by it? Yeah, she ran away to here for a reason, didn't she?

Though she didn't want him to be mad at her anymore than he already seemed to be, and that was making her a little annoyed. She should just glamor him, be done with it.] He's gonna give me hell. [She said in a soft, almost blase tone of voice. Her eyes then swept back around the bar, and she couldn't help but to have them land on the Nordic God that was sitting there at that precise moment. Her mouth went dry because of him.]

Not that you care or anything. It is just how it is. [She walked in further, and sat at one of the tables, but facing away from Eric. She really did not want to be gawking at him right now, especially alone as they were. This way she could also hide her nerves from him.]

[The look in Eric's eyes is bemused. He knows exactly what Jessica is thinking and going through; he has watched many vampires go through the same time and again.

She was Bill's child, therefore not his responsibility. However, he was stuck in here with her for the night and that meant if she was going to sulk he would have to be bored.

There is a low sigh from the Sheriff before he finally speaks, the amusement almost sounding in his voice at her back being turned to him.]

There is True Blood behind the bar, get a bottle for yourself and me and give me your cell. Also, if you intend the face the wall the entire evening we may die of boredom before we go to ground.

[She turns toward him when he speaks, her face looks like she might have seen a ghost. She furrows her brows then as she stands, and moves toward him as she pulled her phone out of the flannels pocket at her breast. Jessica hands it over, then scampers to the bar to look for those True Blood's he asked about.

Jessica grabs two of them, pops open the microwave so she can warm them up. Then she stands there, waiting impatiently for them to heat up as she watched Eric with her cellphone, unsure what he had in mind now?]

What are ya gonna say? [When the ding could be heard, she plucked them out of the microwave, and walked back toward Eric to put them onto the table in front of him. She sat down across from him, but only played with her bottle, she refused to drink it.]

[Her uncomfortable state is amusing to the older vampire as he scrolls through her phone without answering her. He finds Hoyt's number and presses call.

He holds the phone close to his ear as it rings and the moment a slightly worried, annoyed sounding breather answers on the other end Eric cuts him off.]

Hoyt Fortenberry, this is Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5, Jessica will not be returning home tonight she is on an important private errand for me and can't make it back to Bon Temps before dawn.

[It is certain Hoyt goes to say something but Eric ends the call and holds the phone out taking the True Blood at the same time, his booted feet hit the table and he fixes her with a lazy grin.]

Appropriate enough or I should I tell him you've abandoned him to become my lover?

[His last comment makes her lean forward, and her eyes go wide. ] NO! Hell no, why would you even?

[She was about to go off on him more when she realized something, and that made her fall back in her seat to look at him. He was teasing her, pulling her leg--probably not all the way, but he was going for shock value, apparently.]

That ain't funny, Eric. [She bites her lower lip, and looks at Eric through her long, red lashes. She is afraid to ask, but does so anyway.] How did he sound? Was he okay with it? [She loved Hoyt, a lot, but she wasn't in love with him, and that was becoming apparent to her with each day that passed. He was a good guy, but he was looking for an innocent, gentle, human girl that he could have an epic romance with. Now, she may look all those things, but they are a mask. A mask for a very dangerous woman.]

Because I'm bored, breathers are loud protestors I barely have to pay attention to know what they're up to.

[He talks over her even as he can see she is winding up for another round of screaming at him. Then her ass hits her seat and for a reason only know to he rises from his.]

He sounded like a jealous boyfriend who was not fond of the big bad Vampire commanding his sweet, innocent girlfriend who left without fixing him his dinner or washing his tighty whities. [Eric undoes his shirt, stripping down to the black undershirt beneath it he fixes her with a look, bemused still applies.] And you're right, sex with me isn't funny. Have you even bothered to sleep with a vampire yet Jessica?

So, because you are bored, you want to ruin my life? [She looks away from him, disgusted by that idea.

But then he is talking over her, and he doesn't seem to give one iota of a fuck about her, about anything. So, she turns her face away from him and goes stonily silent.

His next words have bite to them, and while they were true. She knew they were true, it still hurt to be belittled by Eric this way. Yeah, she was a baby, and he found her annoying, and treated her like gum on the bottom of his shoe. Still, it hurt, how couldn't it? She doesn't answer since she realizes he is trying to goad her here.

She can see him moving about near her, and she can only feel annoyance when he gave her shit about sitting down and when she does? He gets up. She catches the movement of material, and so she turns her head toward him in slow motion to see him peeling off his shirt. Her brows furrow then, but his words make her almost sputter.]

What? No, I haven'. I got a boyfriend, so why would I? [Her words sounded unsure, as unsure as she felt.]

Would it really be such a tragedy to be free of him.

[Jessica still had so much of her human self in there that Eric's mannerisms of course seem cold, disconnected. After this many years on Earth you had to be or you would break every time something went wrong. It was a fact of immortality.

Eric did not even realize he was hurting her, he thought maybe frustrating or flustering but the he caused actual emotional hurt was beyond his comprehension. He assumed he was not important enough to her to cause such a thing.

The uncertaintity is what Eric did note, heard it in her voice and seized onto it because he could.]

So he satisfies all your needs. You never wonder what it would be like to be with a being who is stronger than you? Who can make you submit to his will.

[As he spoke Eric took his seat, sipped from his bottle of True Blood and propped his booted feet back upon the table.]

Edited 2014-06-03 16:15 (UTC)

[She is trying not to yell at him here, and frankly--she had thought what it could be like with a another vampire. More than she would ever mention.

After a few more questions from Eric, of him looking his nose down on her, and the life she has chosen to live at the moment. She almost loses it.]

Why's it matter, huh? Why? What do you even care what is goin' on in my life, Eric? [She managed to sputter out. Turning to hide her face from him.]

An' even if I have, it ain't gonna happen 'cause I'm with Hoyt for betta' or for worse right now. I ain't sure how things'll go in the next half year, but right now? We are together!

We have to have conversation or would you prefer we sit here in brooding silence all night?

[Eric let out a sigh, clearly taking the breath just so he could since after all these years breathing was not something he was prone to. Another slow sip of True Blood as he watches her over top of the bottle.

Her reactions gave her away, rather she wants them to or not and Eric seems to be intent on pushing her on it right now.

Well, there wasn't much else to do but sit and wait out the humans. May as well take what entertainment he could get before she went to ground.]

Then why did you come here tonight without him if you are together. Hasn't Bill taught you anything, constant self denial will lead to you losing control this young.

Fine. Tell me why ya are tryin' ta push my buttons here? It hurts, but I don't even think ya realize how you can come off at times.

[His next question makes her bristle, because she knew he was going to throw it in her face at some point.]

Because.

[She lifts her head to look at him then, sad eyes as she shakes her head at him.]

Yeah, right. Bill teachin' me anything. He is more concerned with Sookie, all things lead to Sookie. Sookie, Sookie, Sookie. He hasn't been around for shit, I've been teaching myself. The one thing he did teach me is how to glamour people. And he finally began to teach me how to fight after years of being here...

It hurts? Why would my opinion matter so much to you? [Eric seems actually confused by that. He did not expect this to actually hurt her; annoy, fluster, along those lines maybe but hurt?]

You and I both know why Jessica.

[Now that bothers Eric, it actually gives him a second of some shadow of feeling. After all, being a Maker was a great privilege and he thought of Pam. How could Bill leave his child lost like this. Even for Sookie. Jessica was not a hundred years old like his child; she was still a baby with a lot of growing pains.]

Your Maker is useless in his role. The first years are the one where you should keep your child the closest. Pam's over a hundred and she's still at my side. I would not have abandoned her as a baby.

Edited 2014-06-04 13:49 (UTC)

[ Why did it hurt?

She didn't pinpoint the exact reasons as to why, but it dawned on her after a few moments. He was right. It was why she left to come here, she wasn't some housepet like Hoyt wanted her to be--and the telling her that her blood was gross really made Jessica angry. He was saying that she was gross when he said that. ]

My maker hates me. He hates the reason why he had to have me, because of what he did for Sookie. So, I am some big chain around his neck---just a chain.

[She huffed out, and stood. Walking away from him to get her mind organized again. Sure, she blew off his first comment, and she hoped he would just drop it. Plus, she was afraid she might spill the beans about how she lost it, and did kill that trucker, and almost killed Hoyt's mother. Or how she had an eating disorder because she hated eating true blood. It did nothing for her, it just made her feel sick because it wasn't what she needed]

[The truth hurt, coming in a gentle way it hurt. Coming as blunt and harsh as Eric could be had to make it worse. Had she chosen any other words he may not have felt the strange pang of sympathy that he did.

But...

As a Maker he could not stomach what Bill was doing to the poor girl. He let the first part go past unacknowledged, rather than pressing her. He could tell there were things she was hiding, Eric was not new to this after all.

He flickered, so fast even Jessica may have trouble seeing him. He was in front of her, his fingers took hold of her chin and tilted her head upward.]

Your Maker has failed you, no baby vampire can survive on True Blood alone, not till you are stronger. He has left you in a position to where your hunger is going to over take you and it may be your boyfriend who suffers. We are not meant to be monogamous the way humans are, we are beings of another nature entirely.

[When he flickered in front of her, she could feel her eyes going very wide in response to it.

It took a few moments then to actually hear his words, to lace them all together, especially since she could seem to only hear him through what felt like cotton stuffed in both of her ears.

Did he know something? Did he see something? Her eyes continued to go wider until he finished his speech, and in response all Jessica could do was swallow hard, and nod her head. ]

I am startin' ta get that. [Was all she could say to his comment about not being a monogamous sort of being like she was trying to be with Hoyt. It only cemented the fact that she wanted to move out, break it off with Hoyt. She loved him with all of her heart, and soul, but she couldn't ever be what he wanted, and/or needed.]

[Eric knew plenty, he had been a baby vampire. He had rose with his sister, he had made Pam. Eric knew well what went on when a baby vampire as born. Even with the most dedicated of Makers baby vampires could still kill.

The hunger would consume them, mistakes happened. And through all his Bill should be holding her hand. Teacher her how to feed without killing.]

When you do so, let's hope it' not too late.

[Eric knew what she needed, he walks to the window and eases the blockage aside to look.]

Stay here I will not have my bar ransacked because I try to help you not murder your breather.

Too late? Yeah, we done gone past that point of no return. [When she realized what she said, she thought she would get in trouble. It freaked her out.

Look at Bill?! He got in trouble, and that made them make her.

Now she's killed, and hurt people she loved.

She pulled away from him then, aiming to flicker toward the door to listen to the outside. But then Eric was moving from her instead, and going outside. She looked concerned for him, and moved very quickly to the door as she spoke toward his retreating back.]

Where are you going? You'll get lynched out there, come back! [She cried out only loud enough for him to hear her speak.]

[Time paradoxes okay too]

Diana is not the type of woman who deals well with feeling trapped. She's used to being able to barrel through any and all obstacles unfazed, and she very much enjoys doing so. But a diplomat's dinner? Conversation with politicians, kings, advisors? She'd take a bloody battlefield over this any day.

Still, she laughs politely at their jokes, drinks their pilfered wine, even pretends to tolerate their occasional blatant sexism. But soon enough she's driven to the balcony for a breath of air and some well-deserved silence, praying she won't be followed and partially contemplating escape over the side of the ledge.

Achilles is very much of like mind concerning what he'd rather be doing than attending this dinner. Unfortunately, his duty requires such things, so that battle is only part of the deal. Having Diana there helps distract him somewhat, however, though he notices her walking out rather early on in the evening.

Deciding that he could also do with some fresh air, Achilles sneaks away and follows Diana to the balcony. Once there, he leans against the ledge and gives her a small, knowing smile.

"Dull, isn't it?"

Most of the warriors present are only there to boast of their conquests, their spoils of war, pomp and circumstance that Diana has little to no interest in. The fresh air and the distance from the idle chatter refreshes her in an instant, though, and she can't help but smile a little when she hears a new companion on the balcony landing.

"Mm. Can't say it's my ideal way to spend an evening," she smirked, leaning back against the balcony ledge and canting her head at him.

Achilles does enjoy boasting, but he hasn't been to war recently, so he has nothing new to boast about. That means dull for him, as he's far from interested in sitting by listening to others discuss their petty conquests.

"I could do with better wine and better company," he remarks, looking over her briefly. "I have found the latter, at least."

She would hardly begrudge any of them a chance to recount their stories - especially to the powerful men who, in a sense, employed them. But the Amazons had never been one to partake, especially to the drunken degree this party was quickly gearing up to.

"I suppose I could settle for the company of The Mighty Achilles," she smirked, glancing over him in turn and canting her head playfully at him.

"I hope I can entertain you for awhile here."

He smirks in return, though when he thinks about it, there isn't much of interest he can do out here when the room behind them is so full. And he can't leave without drawing a large amount of attention.

Essentially, he's stuck here. "Though I admit, I don't know how."

"As do I." She smirks, a glint of mischief in her eyes as she watches him curiously. Canting her head to the empty spot next to her, she gestures for him to join her against the balcony before glancing back at the room full of people inside.

"And here I thought warriors like you were supposed to know how to improvise," she teased. Still, truth be told, she's not entirely sure what they're meant to do. But the moment she's decided to plot her escape is the moment things get a little more interesting.

Achilles sees the gesture and goes to stand beside her, leaning against the edge of the balcony. He can see the warriors drinking and celebrating, and wonders how long before someone will notice he's missing. Probably not terribly long, considering his fame among them.

"This is hardly a battlefield." Though it has some similarities. Achilles watches with distaste as a couple drunk men begin having a sloppy brawl on the floor while others cheer them on.

"Or maybe it is. The least sophisticated one I've ever seen, anyway."

The smile at Diana's lips tugs upwards a bit when he joins her, and she leans her elbows back against the balcony as sshe surveys the party alongside him. A few have already noticed both their absences, but none have taken measures to bring them back inside, at least.

"I'd take a battlefield over the drunken advances of this lot any day," she shrugged, rolling her eyes a bit as one of the partygoers slumped to the floor in a stupor. "As if they'd never seen a woman in armor before. Honestly."

"Most of them have not."

Greek women don't fight battles, so Diana is an extraordinary sight for them. He isn't surprised that they're ogling... and honestly, he isn't doing much better himself. She's beautiful, capable, and very interesting.

"You are unique around here."

"To be fair, they ogle you just as much," she teased, tearing her eyes from the show before her to return her attention to him. "You should hear all they say about you. Hera, they'll be building altars soon enough."

She chuckled, pushing herself up to sit on the balcony ledge. "Not that your ego needs the stroking, of course."

[ooc ; Pre-Finale preferably]

[If you're at all interested in experimenting with Cap!Bucky, Winter Soldier!Steph has a tendency to follow him around on missions and make sure he doesn't get his ass killed. They could get stuck somewhere.]

Edited 2014-05-27 22:31 (UTC)

[Ooh, that sounds neat! I'd totally be up for that. :3 Would a modern-day setting be best for that, then?]

[Yup! Would you rather set up, or shall I?]

[If you don't mind setting it up, that would be amazing! I will roll with anything~ :3]

In the months since Hydra last had her, she's... changed. Regained some of her memories. Started transitioning from weapon to... something else. More human. And in the absence of handlers giving her orders, she finds her own directives. One of them occasionally leads her to trail Barnes when he's in uniform, watching him just in case.

He gets in over his head. The group he's fighting aren't Hydra (at least not all of them), but they have Hydra's cast-offs, their information. They know how to subdue someone with Erskine's formula running through their veins, because Hydra had a derivative to practice on: her.

She tries to intervene when things start to go to hell, knocks out a good portion of their fighters, but someone manages to stick her with the same sedative cocktail that downed him. They don't quite know what they have, so they toss her in the same room as Barnes and figure if the sedatives tailored for a super soldier don't kill her, she'll at least be out for a good while.

They're partly right, at least. She doesn't burn through them as fast as he does, stays crumpled in a heap on the floor where they left her.

Okay - he was stupid. He's always been a little stupid (and a little cocksure), and it's harder to not be those things when you're confident that you can take on pretty much anyone and anything (which is usually the case). Unfortunately, Bucky is neither invincible nor willing to call it quits when he's in a tight spot - there was a girl back home in Brooklyn that taught him never to back down from a fight.

He can't actually remember getting knocked out, but maybe that shouldn't be surprising. But the next thing he knows, he's waking up slumped in a half-sitting position, like someone dragged him into the room and just left him propped up against the wall. His entire body is sore and a little slow to respond - whatever faction that group was made of, they knew how to handle a super soldier. And that's not to mention the cuts and bruises he can feel covering practically every inch of his body. He groans, pushing himself up into a position that's a little less painful on his spine, and cracks his eyes open, looking around.

The first thing he notices is the room - mainly, the fact that it's a room that's going to be very hard to break out of. That's not the surprising part. No, that would be the second thing he notices - the body on the floor next to him, that looks vaguely familiar, only she's facing away from him so it's hard to tell if he's just seeing things he wants to see - seeing ghosts.

Bucky shifts over to the body, almost afraid to look at the face. Instead, he touches the shoulder, shaking gently. "Hey. Hey, are you okay?"

Trying not to look at her face or not, he doesn't have a lot of choice when she turns towards the person waking her up, eyes blinking open slowly. They're dilated, sluggish - the drugs aren't out of her system, not yet.

She knows him. Came her to protect him, she thinks, but clearly she's failing that mission. Her handlers aren't going to be pleased with her, she thinks vaguely, and tries to sit upright, force uncoordinated limbs to cooperate. It's not as successful as she'd like.

It's disorienting, to say the least - it's a face he didn't expect to see, on a body he definitely doesn't entirely recognize. Then again... he knows that feeling pretty well.

Still, it's clear that she's having a harder time with the drugs than he is, and that takes precedence. He can ask questions later - first, Bucky moves to pull Stephanie up into a sitting position because she can't quite do it herself. His hands stay on her shoulders as he just stares at her face for a long, long moment - but maybe she won't mind, if she's still a little dazed. "Take it easy. You should - what are you doing here?"

It's a simple question, and yet it's so very complicated. But that's sort of all it boils down to, isn't it? Why the hell is she here?

She doesn't answer at first, just does her best to have a look around the room they were left in, looking at how big it is, supplies, possible exits. It's harder than it should be to focus.

"You walked into an ambush," she says, eventually. The actual answer to his question is hidden in the implications: she was here to be backup.

Bucky follows her gaze - he'd sort of done the same thing, but things aren't looking all that promising. He feels a little like his head has been run over by a truck (repeatedly) too, but there's not a lot in this room for even a super soldier (two super soldiers?) to use. But that's actually not the important part right now. At least, not just yet.

He blinks at her words, mouth opening just slightly. "I guess I did," is all he says for a second, but is he reading that answer right? Can he still read her right, after all this time? It's both familiar and completely disorienting. "Unfortunately... so did you. Are you okay?" He wants to check her over - and is suddenly not sure that's actually the best thing to do.

Her head shakes slowly, like the motion will somehow clear her mind. "Drugged." She recognizes this feeling, thinks it's happened before, maybe. They needed to figure out the right dosage to knock her out, so they kept her awake for almost two weeks, experimenting. She remembers feeling dizzy and nauseous whenever she was awake.

Like she does now, and it takes her a second to get her mind back into the present, where she has Barnes and no apparent extraction plan. It'd be easier if she could stand, but when she tries, all it does is destroy her sense of balance for a minute.

"Tell me about it," Bucky groaned, though it was clear he was a lot better off than she was - and he didn't have any of her unfortunate experiences to compare with, either. (Though he would have been utterly horrified to hear about them.)

When she tries to stand up, though, it's clear that's not working well; he shoots up, a little unsteady himself, reaching out to grasp her shoulders. "Hey, take it easy, Stephanie." She's always been one to ignore the fact that her body may or may not want to do things, but he's always been one to try to protect her from herself, if nothing else. His hands tighten on her shoulders, just watching her face for a minute, and a million different emotions seem to cross his, all in the space of a second. "Just... take a minute. We're not going anywhere until we're both in better shape." After that... he was planning to stick by her side like glue.

Her eyes shut for a second while she tries to concentrate. Those two weeks are almost impossible to remember in detail, but they've used it other times, too. He's not asking for a tactical estimate, but she gives it, anyway. "Wears off... in a few hours. Usually," she adds, because she thinks, vaguely, that they might have made it stronger, because they were expecting him.

Just that level of concentration is exhausting, and she can barely hold onto the semi-clear recollection before it slips away. She lets her body sink back down into the floor.

Bucky blows out a breath in a sigh, nodding vaguely. A few hours. Well... there are two options. He can use those few hours to find a way out and carry her. Or they can sit tight until Stephanie can get out under her own power. Option three isn't really an option at all: leave her. There's no way in hell he's going to do that.

Option one isn't really the best, either. It might have worked better before, but Stephanie isn't exactly short and slight anymore. So... while he could still carry her, he's worried about what would happen if they encounter resistance. Which is likely. That leads him to option two - sitting tight - and it's as good a plan as any. That gives him plenty of time to find a way out of here - and for the very last dregs of that drug to work their way out of his system.

Just about the time that he makes that decision, Stephanie seems to come to the same conclusion - or, at least, her body does. She starts to sink back to the floor, and Bucky moves to support her, making sure she won't just fall over. He manages to get them over to a wall, leaning Stephanie back against it and taking the spot immediately adjacent to her, sides touching, eyes trained on her face. "Then we'll give it a few hours."

He hopes they have a few hours. But the fact that they're in here, alive, is a good sign. He thinks. "It might take that long to figure out a the best way out of here, anyway." He pauses. "And plenty of time for you to tell me what the hell happened to you." Though he can come to a few conclusions on his own. Which may or may not be correct.

She doesn't quite catch hold of the prompting, doesn't connect it to a request for information. It's bad enough sometimes without sedatives in the mix, and right now her complexion is losing color again rapidly, which doesn't say a hell of a lot good about the way she's feeling right now.

She frowns at him suddenly, like she's only just registering who he is. "Bucky?"

No, Bucky does not like the way she's going pale - he wonders if maybe he shouldn't get her lying down, but unfortunately, he gets distracted by the way she seems to suddenly recognize him, her expression changing from one that's more businesslike (well, as businesslike as you can be, while you're drugged up your eyeballs) to one of recognition.

"Yeah - yeah, it's me," he says, leaning closer, grinning a little sheepishly. Maybe it's harder for her to recognize him, through the drugs, and he's taller now, not that he wasn't taller than her, before. "It's Bucky."

But then, he remembers why he was concerned, just a second ago, and moves to touch her shoulder again. "Steph, we should get you on the ground."

Whoops, that sounds a little wrong. "I mean - you need to lie down. You look like you need it."

She knows who he is, knows - he's James Barnes, Captain America, she followed him here to keep him safe because he's important. He's gone off and gotten himself killed before, and she doesn't think she can... something. She doesn't know what, there was just something she never wants to live through again.

"That's not... my name." Except it is her name, but it feels wrong to let him call her by it, like she's stealing it from the person it belonged to, even if she desperately wants it for herself.

That's him, Captain America, although some days the alias feels so impersonal he could scream. Oh, it's kind of great - he gets all the girls he could want, but the problem is, he doesn't necessarily want them. He can't stop thinking about the one he left behind... except she's not behind him now, she's here, in front of him, and he's not... actually sure what to do about it.

He's even less sure when she speaks; he frowns, because... that's not right. "What? Of course it is. You're Stephanie Rogers. I'd know you anywhere, although you kind of grew a couple of inches since I saw you last." And then some. Honestly, he's pretty sure he knows what happened - there's only one explanation, and he sees it every time he looks in the mirror. The question is... how? Why? And what is she really doing here? He would know if she was actually meant to be his backup, wouldn't he?

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AkaRed - Boukenger Vs Super Sentai/Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger - OTA

Professor Samuel Oak, Pokemon Anime

teresa agnes ₪ tmr

Shelby Corcoran | Glee | OTA

Gabriel | Supernatural | OTA

Mary Morstan | Sherlock | OTA

Richard Duke of Gloucester | The White Queen | OTA

Lisa Reisert | Red Eye | OPEN

Dr Hannibal Lecter || Hannibal || OTA

#4 if you're okay with the setup

Joan Watson | Elementary

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | OTA

Kino Makoto || Sailor Moon || OTA

Clark Kent / Superman | DCU |

trapped... at a boring party?

sounds good to me!

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Aoba Seragaki || Dramatical Murder || M/M

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Kurumi Erika/Cure Marine | Heartcatch Pretty Cure

betty ross ● mcu

loki; mcu

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Eric Northman; True Blood

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Virginia 'Pepper' Potts | MCU

Achilles | Troy | OTA

Hi!

Hello!

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