bakerstreet | The Other Wordly meme

(Looks like fun!)

Mina must have been dreaming, for she found herself somewhere she hadn't been in years- a castle in the mountains. But it wasn't quite as she remembered, for imposing as it had been, it was mundane in its construction. But now each door seemed to lead to another, the halls stretched for what seemed like miles, and even the very walls around her seemed to loop and bend.

A dream. Surely a dream. But she knew better than many that dreaming didn't mean something wasn't real.

numinous (adj) describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted-- the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired.

[everyone here keeps calling her the "Alice of Legend". She doesn't want to be that, to shoulder that much responsibility. But at the same time, all that faith gives her courage. To have someone believe in her that much is a lot, but it's also wonderful. She's sitting, just soaking it all in]

[In the moment, it had been easy to just ride out the momentum of what they were achieving and follow the story - and it's still not a children's story but maybe, just maybe, it might be a story with a happy ending - through to its natural conclusion. There hadn't been any time to overthink the situation, not when the immediate priority was simply to make it out alive]

[And then suddenly it was over. Suddenly the Queen, the Casino - the regime he'd lived under and worked around all his life - lay in ruins. It's too much to take in. He's not even going to try to process it. If he thinks about it too hard he'll start wondering about what the hell he's going to do next, now that his tea shop is worthless (even in the unlikely event that March and the Suits had left anything salvageable). About what he's going to do now that Alice has no reason to stay.]

[The newly freed denizens of Wonderland wasted no time in getting to celebrating their newfound liberty; the party has been going on for most of the night. He finds Alice near the edge of the festivities, simply observing. He swans up to her with a drink balanced precariously in his hand and a faintly incredulous grin plastered on his face. It's still hard to believe that they did it. Part of him half expects to wake up and find himself still strapped to that chair, lost in one of Dee and Dum's fantasies.]

Well, here we are [He spreads his hands to indicate the wreckage of the casino, the crowds of wildly celebrating Wonderlanders, and gives a bemused little laugh] Victorious. Or something like it anyway. How does it feel to change the world?

[she smiles when she sees him. She's gotten very fond of him. More than once she thought that maybe he might... Well, he didn't, and she's not sure where things stand now that it's all over. This is his home, and she has no right to ask him to leave it. But just the thought of not seeing him again is painful.

Focus on the positive, Alice]

Overwhelming. I still don't feel like a legend, but things are going to be a lot better around here now. And I feel good about being a part of making it happen. How about you? How do you... feel?

[gosh that was a loaded question]

[He can't help but smile back. She's right to be proud of herself. He'd never imagined that anything would come of the rebellion; that if the Casino ever fell it certainly wouldn't be in his lifetime. And yet somehow in a few days she'd achieved what they hadn't in a century. He wouldn't believe a word of it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.]

Me? I'm fantastic. Absolutely wonderful. And alive and in one piece no less... well, more or less- [He tilts his head wryly and indicates the cuts and bruises on his face with a flourish like a magician presenting a trick] -which is a lot more than I was expecting this morning, I can tell you.

That's good. That you're feeling good. And in one piece is even better. [she pauses, smilling at him] You were wonderful.

[He gives a nervous laugh and rubs a hand over the back of his neck, looking vaguely embarrassed. Part of him wants to just fade into the background and pretend he didn't have any part in this.] Through no fault of my own. From now on I think I'll leave the heroics to those qualified for it.

You mean like Charlie? [she smiles mentioning the knight. He was a big part of this, too]

Exactly! Knight in shining armour [He pauses, considering this statement] Well. Grubby, dented armour. But it's the thought that counts.

Yes, the thought does count. Though I think I prefer leather jackets over armor. [hinthint]

Good thing too [He flops down next to her, managing by dint of long practice not to spill a drop of his drink] I'd just look silly in that getup. Could never pull it off like our Charlie does.

[she nudges him with her shoulder] Heaven forbid you look silly.

[He sniffs, assuming a mock-haughty air. It only lasts a moment before his grin breaks through again. He drains what's left in his glass only to produce a bottle from somewhere within the depths of the aforementioned leather jacket]

Drink?

[her lips move into a smile. She's tempted to ask what exactly is in that bottle, but she's going to trust him]

Do you have a glass, or are we drinking straight from the bottle?

Ah, let me see- here, hold this [He passes the bottle and empty glass over and begins rummaging through various mysterious inner pockets. After a few moments - now juggling a deck of cards, two handkerchiefs, a set of picks, a corkscrew, and a few less identifiable objects - he gives a triumphant little hah and produces a second glass] There we go.

[she watches him in amusement. What on earth does he have in there? Just how many things are in those pockets? She laughs when at last he finds that second glass]

Next you're going to pull out a kitchen sink, aren't you?

Nah. That one's buried a lot deeper [He winks and rapidly stows the odd assortment of items back in the pockets from whence they came. With an air of ceremony he holds out the glass] Would you like to do the honours?

Yes, please. [she takes the bottle and pours a little of the liquid into each glass] Cheers.

[He raises the glass, his smile softening slightly, and clinks it against hers] Cheers.

[she sips her drink. This is good, the two of them just sitting together and enjoying themselves. Not having to worry about the Queen's men finding them or being captured. It's just him and her together. But for how long? No, Alice won't think of that]

So [He taps his glass idly against his knee, surveying the celebrations with a cynical air] Now taking all bets on how long it'll take them to party themselves out and realise just how much work it's going to be to put Wonderland back together.

Taking bets, are we? Glad to hear the new order hasn't changed you that much.

Well I've got to fit myself in somewhere, haven't I? [He gives a wry little shrug and takes a long drink from his glass before continuing, tone purposely light] 'Tea shop owner's rather gone out of fashion, and 'double agent' isn't much of a living these days either.

Yes, you're right... You'll fit in wherever you want, you know. [she can't help being sad when she thinks of it]

'Course I will. It's what I do [Shrug]

How about you then? Ready to go fit yourself back in back home?

(ooc; hope you don't mind! i've got a bio on her here, but feel free to ignore this if you want)

Edited 2013-07-09 04:51 (UTC)

(ooc: Sounds lovely! I've only seen season 1 of OUAT, but I had a crack at cobbling something crossovery together :) Let me know if anything needs changed.)

---

[The murmurs follow him around the town. They probably think they're being discreet - which is cute, really - but he's dealt in rumours and whispers for far too long not to see when they're swirling around him. The hushed who the hells and but strangers never come through Storybrookes. Most of them want to know why he's here. He wouldn't mind an answer to that question himself.]

[The thing about the Looking Glass is that it can reflect far more than the legends would have you believe. There are far more worlds out there than just Wonderland and the land of the Oysters, and navigating between them isn't an exact science. Occasionally things go awry. He appears to have emerged in entirely the wrong place.]

[Well. Not entirely the wrong place; as far as he can tell he is still somewhere in Alice's world. But from what he understands her world is a bloody big place, and he has absolutely no idea which bit of it he's washed up in. He's spent the eight or so hours since he arrived just sort of floating around, watching and waiting. Observing things while he tries to get his bearings.]

[At present he's sitting in a little cafe called Granny's, where a young woman in a dress so aggressively scarlet she wouldn't have looked out of place in the Hearts' Casino had served him a cup of nice, hot, emotionally inert tea. ]

[The whispered tide of gossip still ebbs and flows gently around him. For the moment he doesn't pay it much mind.]

Edited 2013-07-09 20:14 (UTC)

[Let's do this!]

Edited (Forgot to enter my name and canon) 2013-07-09 00:33 (UTC)

[OOC ; how do you want to do this? Both of them still happen to be in the same town to see how things happen? maybe something happens to make them open up more to get a sense of the dépaysement? (Which I love by the way)]

[OOC: I kind of tagged this on a whim so honestly I don't have any big plan, ha ha. That said, I'd totally be up for just about anything. Maybe David ends up getting targeted by the guys after Five (if he didn't kill them all already), or maybe David's old pals show up, or something else perhaps? I'm seriously game for whatever sounds cool to you. And if the scene calls for it, I can play NPCs too.]

[Ooc: Hmm well preferably something from David's side of things considering Five is banking on the fact that sending squads to earth is too much effort for the people he's running from. Action is cool though so it would be fun if someone did show up :-) ]

[Its strange for Five to be staying in one town for so long but he figured he'd stick around for a while, knowing his credit card wouldn't be bouncing any time soon. So finding himself awake during the day for once he's sitting outside a coffee shop with a cup of good old caffeinated tar, pretending to read the paper and trying to make some plan in his head for what's next.]

[OOC: Sounds good to me. :) I'll be alternating between this journal and an NPC journal when needed, and just for the record, consider any NPC killable if that's the route Five decides he has to go. It's been a while since I got to do a good action scene, so bear with me if I seem a little rusty. ;) ]

[If Five is feeling strange about being in one town for this long, he's certainly in... well, good company might be a bit of a stretch, but like-minded company would certainly apply. David's been on the run for five years, and he hasn't gone this long and not gotten caught by making mistakes. He's always kept his movements random, always made sure to leave a place after no more than three days, and has always kept himself from ever going out in the daytime as himself. Stolen identities, at this point too many to keep track of, are what get him through the days, and at night is when he permits himself to relax just enough to go around as himself.

But today is different. Ever since meeting that guy at the bar the other night, things have been different. And that's why he finds himself headed downtown somewhat aimlessly, hands shoved in his pockets and very much wearing his own face.

He's not sure quite what he's looking for. So when he sees a familiar face sitting on a coffee shop's patio, he's surprised enough that he doesn't try to disguise his movements and instead ambles right over.

Little does he know that he's being watched and has been almost from the moment he left the motel he's been staying at.]

[OOC : Sounds good! And yeah excuse me on rustiness aswell, I only started RPing again this week after a two year hiatus!]

[Five watches the boy shuffling over, taking a sip of his coffee at the same time and a sort of half smile covers his face, very new for him to be pleased to see someone for the second time. Maybe he actually was getting to terms with this whole getting to really know people thing. He does however scan the immediate area the moment he realizes he's going to have company that probably can't be across the planet in a matter of seconds if needs be.]

Hey buddy, nice t'see you again.

[OOC: No worries! Glad to help you get back in the swing of things!]

[David's not sure quite what kind of reception he's going to get, so when his drinking pal greets him with a friendly 'Hey buddy, he's almost taken aback. Honestly, he doesn't think anyone in his life has ever called him buddy. But he finds that for some reason he doesn't mind. Favoring the older boy, man really, with a warm smile, he comes over to the empty chair opposite him and puts both hands on it, though he doesn't sit down just yet.]

Hey, yourself. I thought you said you were gonna be out of town in a day or two.

[He doesn't particularly mind seeing him again, though, and his tone of voice probably makes that pretty clear.]

I was.. maybe I decided it was worth stayin' for a couple extra days, 's not like I have anywhere t'be 'n maybe the experience is valuable.

[He looks at the chair and back to David as if to say why haven't you sat down yet.]

I don't bite, unless I need to.

Yeah? Can't say what kinda 'experience' you'd be getting in a nowheresville kinda place like this, but I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

[David decides to take the hint and pulls out the chair, smiling as though embarrassed by his own reticence.]

That's good to know.

[He grins bemusedly and then, without warning, jerks forward with a yelp, raising his hand to his shoulder as though thinking maybe a mosquito bit him. What his hand finds isn't an insect but a dart, lodged in the back of his neck, and he barely has time to look surprised before pitching forward onto the table.]

[Five's smile slowly turns into a horrified expression, looking to the dart and instantly knowing it couldn't be Triskelien in Nature, they didn't shoot simply to stun and if he was seen with a human they would just consider it collateral.

The wheels turn in his mind, knowing David had mentioned he was on trouble and his soldier side instantly comes into action. Of course he didn't know who he was dealing with but he'd been training on how to be the ultimate soldier since the day he could walk and he had an eye for spotting the 'odd thing out' in any situation as long as it wasn't him.

With the effectiveness of any physical movement he reaches out and pulls his telekinesis coming to him first before any other reaction, dragging forward whomever or whatever was attached to the gun he saw slipping back around a corner. But he wasn't done, he throws his hands into the air bringing the movements of anyone or anything else in a mile radius to a complete stop, except for the person facing him on the steps of the coffee shop now, leaving himself between them and the guy he was hoping he'd still get a chance to know.]

[If Five had met David a few years ago, all of this would have played out very differently. Back then, before the invasion's end, the number of people in the world who knew who he was numbered only in the single digits. They were the ones who David had spoken to Five of with such bitterness before, and while they had been dangerous in their ways, none of them used guns. They would have tried an ambush using sheer brute force, and at least two of them would have been opting to kill rather than capture.

But that was then. Today, the number of people who are actively pursuing David are far greater in number, and they made their move armed both with the unique skills David himself has put to such good use and the weapons and training provided to US Army Rangers. They came prepared for any possible move David himself could make, and even as he started to sway they were moving in to neutralize his companion and apprehend them.

What they weren't prepared for was a living weapon of Five's caliber.

The first soldier, the one who'd put that tranq dart into David's neck, grunts in surprise as he finds himself pulled from his cover seemingly by an invisible force, and his squadmates, all four of them, level their weapons at Five from their respective points. One across the street and on the roof, one crouched behind a parked car, one nestled in a second alleyway and one who'd been with the first, presumably for backup. All of them find themselves suddenly unable to move, and yet, with his enhanced senses, Five will no doubt feel each of them struggling against the molecular holds they find themselves in. Not struggling physically, what he'd done to them was too absolute for that, but struggling on a molecular level. Something in them, something artificial and far beyond the technological capabilities of anything on Earth, is struggling against his control.

The first soldier stares Five down, his facial features largely hidden beneath a helmet and goggles. If Five's senses are acute enough, he will sense that same artificial presence in this man too, but for the moment it lays dormant.]

Who are you? [If he's unsettled by being held rigid from a seemingly invisible force, he doesn't show it.]

[Five had never expected anything like this, anything at all. He can feel all of their troops and only then does he realise how serious David was in his fear and how close to home that fear could be. These soldiers may not be Triskelien but they were something outside of the planet he had only just learned to call home.

He had one advantage though, he was trained to be one of the best soldiers, the best tools, of an army who didn't want peace, didn't want to protect themselves but had only one goal in mind when they trained him. That goal was killing and leaving a wave of destruction so vast that the planets they raided could only fold in on themselves, no longer being self-sufficient or even survivors of the Triskelien plague, their army.

His face darkens and for the first time since he integrated on this planet Five's voice is clipped and accent less, and also for the first time does he utter his name without flirting and without mirth.]

I am Five, a soldier of the Triskelien. If you ever want to leave this place with your own atoms intact you need to figure out how to reverse whatever you have just done to this child and you need to do it fast.

[His voice is one of barely controlled rage, for once harboring the anger that the army always expected him to have because for once he was protecting something that in his eyes must be innocent. He was confident in his ability to kill but it had been a long time since he exercised his powers against so many opponents and didn't want to kill them instantly just in case, but holding them could prove a task he wasn't used to with the unfamiliar struggle he was encountering]

[As David lies unconscious behind Five, the soldier charged with bringing him in eyes his defender unflinchingly, seemingly confident in spite of being held immobile under the force of a power he doesn't know or understand. Even if he can't communicate with headquarters, his headgear is recording this man's face and his words. And while this soldier himself has never heard of the 'Triskelien', he knows he has a secret weapon of his own still in reserve.]

This boy is a fugitive wanted by the United States government. Our team's been charged with bringing him in and that's what we're going to do. I'm giving you one chance to set me down and walk away from this. If you don't, you'll be charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive and brought to justice.

[From this guy's tone of voice it becomes clear he's got no idea who he's talking to or really dealing with. But when he sees the hostile alien isn't about to comply he decides it's time to take off the gloves Instantly, Five will start to feel this man's molecular structure begin resonating in the same strange way the other soldiers briefly did before they were fully immobilized.

But since Five is holding this man through his telekinesis and no other forces there's nothing stopping him, at least initially, from deploying his secret weapon. So before the Triskelien's very eyes, the seemingly human soldier's body begins changing. Growing. His face begins protruding outward, his goggles snapping and falling to the ground as his head becomes too large to hold them. What he's becoming isn't quite clear yet, but whatever it is, it's larger than a human, and if Five allows him to keep changing, perhaps much larger than a human.]

That's the thing, much like where I am from, I sometimes doubt this planet's idea of justice, and he warned me he was in trouble.

[However the moment this guy starts doing, whatever it is he's doing Five immediately drops him, the edges of his own form blurring, he suddenly realises that he's standing in the middle of a town with CCTV cameras and other things which could be dangerous, especially if it is the government after David. He throws up a cloak around himself, blurring him out of all forms of technological recognition and also making him slightly harder to see without rendering him totally invisible to the human eye, he wouldn't want these people to think he had disappeared entirely. He also takes a step back to protect himself from whatever this is and gives David a gentle nudge with telekinesis, putting him in a better defensive position behind Five.]

I warned you...

[With an almost sad expression he raises one hand, palm open to the man/thing and pushes mentally, focusing on his lower half with his combustion abilities and literally shreds the atoms apart, leaving the upper half of whatever he now was, definitely not human.]

[Good to see you again!

Let's see...would you like this to be in the same universe as before, with Joan and Hal having met?]

[if you're good with that, yes! that'd be cool.]

[Sure! Would Hal be in New York? Is he calling Joan from Wales to ask for help?]

[hmmm... we could have it be on Joan's home turf this time, sure!]

[ooc: Left this a bit open...if you'd like to have them meet up randomly, they can, or if you'd like to have him show up on her doorstep, we can do that, too :)]

It's been a few months since her trip to Wales, since meeting Hal and discovering that vampires and werewolves (and god knows what else) actually exist. A lot has happened since then. She's officially become Sherlock's partner and a consulting detective. The woman whose death sent Sherlock into a freefall of addiction turned out to be alive and a criminal mastermind, and they've defeated her. (It might be argued that Joan defeated her, and although she wouldn't disagree, she's also wouldn't put it that way herself.) She's also been keeping her eyes open, wondering about unsolved murders, missing persons, wondering how many of them might have been vampire-related.

In all that time, she hasn't heard from Hal.

She wonders about him, even worries about him. She could probably track down his number if she wanted to, but she won't. He has her number, and if he wants to contact her, he will.

He couldn't stay in Barry, or in the whole of Europe, really-- not after what he's done, not after losing Annie and Eve and Tom and even Alex. Hal kept Joan's number carefully folded in his pockets for months without really thinking about it. Until the day he had to flee. The day he realized that his brethren would never let him live as Hal. No, they want the monster. And they know just what to do to bring him out.

It's then that he remembers the woman in New York, the only human still alive who knows about him. It isn't a conscious decision, or even a very good one, and soon enough Hal finds himself at her doorstep after only a few days of searching. It seems Joan Watson and Sherlock Holmes are semi-famous in this sprawling mess of a city.

He knocks tentatively, with a shaking hand. And then keeps knocking. He can't really seem to stop.

Joan is in the living room, reading Applied Cryptography, when someone knocks on the door. And keeps knocking. She frowns, and puts the book aside and her glasses on top of it. Her first thought as she stands to answer the door is Sherlock. Maybe he forgot his keys. But, no, if he did that he could just as easily pick the lock. Is it Ms. Hudson making absolutely sure she isn't interrupting anything before she comes in to clean? No, she isn't due until next week.

So Joan has no idea what to expect when she opens the door, and is shocked to see it's Hal.

"Oh my god," she says. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

He knows as soon as she opens the door that he's made a mistake. He has no right to intrude upon her life, put her in unnecessary danger... but part of Hal can't deny how relieved he is to see a friendly face. And that's the part that leaves him guilt-ridden.

"I'm all right," he says quickly. "I... I shouldn't have come here." He pushes back from the doorframe, entirely intending to leave her in peace.

"Hal, wait."

She steps forward, holding out a hand, intending to touch his arm and remembering at the last minute that's not the best of ideas.

"You're in New York, and you've gone through the trouble of tracking me down. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't want to see me. And if it wasn't important."

She steps aside, leaving the door open for him.

"Come inside."

"I couldn't stay in Barry," Hal manages, cursing inwardly at her forethought to invite him in. How can he refuse now?

"It's starting."

"The war? Between humans and vampires?"

She glances up and down the street.

"Come on inside. You can tell me everything."

Funny, the way she says it. It almost sounds as if the humans are even proper adversaries in this. What was it Snow said? They won't know what hit them.

He steps inside, just enough to allow her to close the door, looking severely out of place.

"We're alone?" Hal can sense that for himself, but it never hurts to ask.

"Sherlock's out at the moment," she answers, shutting the door. She turns to him.

"Can I get you anything? Tea, maybe?"

"Yes. Good." But he continues to stand there, staring at the floor, fingers twitching in a distracted way.

She frowns faintly, reaches out and gently touches his hands to get his attention. She remembers what happened when they met, but he's clearly upset, distracted, and she wants to comfort him and bring him back.

"Hey. Hal."

"Mm?" He looks up when she touches him, but his hands only jerk back slightly.

Good. She smiles faintly and squeezes his hands before letting them go.

"The kitchen's downstairs. Come on."

She turns and heads for the stairs.

And he follows, moving sluggishly as if underwater. Or in a dream. Nightmare, perhaps. He really, really shouldn't be here. But where else could he go? Where could he hide?

She gestures for him to sit and makes her way to the stove. She puts on a kettle, then comes to sit with him.

"How long have you been in New York?"

Oh, but she knows the answer to that, doesn't she?

"Not long." In point of fact, only a day. Hal sinks down slowly into the chair, habitually scanning the kitchen for areas that might need a good scrubbing down. It's something he does when he's nervous.

He sees a lot of them. The kitchen is generally a disaster area. The whole Brownstone is generally a disaster area, except for the once a week that Ms. Hudson comes to clean, and the once a month that Sherlock scrubs the refrigerator.

He answers her question, and she gets a lot more than just those words. She's pretty sure he came directly to see her. Which is touching, but also worrisome. She's human, has so little to do about this coming (or present) war, and yet she's the person he seeks out.

"Why did you leave Wales?"

"It's not safe there any longer." Hal's eyes are still flitting around, taking in the kitchen, his lap-- everywhere but in Joan's direction, really. "The Old Ones..."

He sighs. "If I hadn't left, I'd have joined them."

"The Old Ones" sounds ominous, and Joan is all but certain that the reality is even worse than it sounds. He left his home to not succumb to the monster inside of him. She admires the hell out of him for that.

"Are there Old Ones here in New York?"

"Not yet." Shit. That isn't what he meant to say, though it is likely the truth. He tries again, tapping the fingertips of his right hand together in a pattern only he would understand.

"Until recently, they kept to themselves," he explains slowly. "I suppose one could say they were lying in wait. That... precluded major cities."

"So...when they do show up here, it will be a really bad sign."

She nods slowly.

"But they haven't yet. So for the meantime you're safe."

Hopefully it also means they can come up with a plan.

Hal huffs out a small laugh. "I scarcely matter. But yes. It will, indeed, be a Really Bad Sign."

She nods once, slowly.

"I'm glad you're here." She tilts her head slightly. "Did you come to me to be somewhere safe? Is there something I can do to help? Or am I in danger somehow?"

Maybe he's here to protect her.

"I..." Hal has the good grace to look incredibly embarrassed. "I remembered what you said before. That you'd worked with people... like me. That you might be able to help me hold on a bit longer. But, Joan..."

He sighs, looks around and shifts in his chair as if preparing to make a swift exit. "You've been in danger from the moment I arrived here. They'll be searching for me. I can't..." And then he really does rise, with a sharp nod in the direction of his shoes.

"I should go."

She rises with him, reaches out to hold his arm.

"No. You should stay. You're right, I can help. And Sherlock can help, too. He has a lot of properties around the city where we can both be safe, and knows how to get us there without anyone following us. We can keep you safe. Keep all of us safe."

Hal has his doubts about that, and he stiffens at her touch. But he doesn't pull away.

"Have you... spoken to him about me?" He doesn't look thrilled at the idea.

"No. I don't usually talk to other people about situations like this. What you say to me is confidential. Besides, I don't think he'd believe the most salient points."

"Probably not." The reassurance that his secret is safe for now is enough to relax him into a small smile, though.

"What... will you tell him?"

She returned the smile reassuringly.

"Whatever you feel most comfortable with. My sober clients would often introduce me as their friend, so we can start there. We can tell him that there are people after you. Maybe family, in a mafia sense."

Hal nodded slowly, taking it all in. That look of doubt wasn't completely gone though.

"And he'd help me? Knowing nothing about me?"

"He will," she said, her expression going somber. "He trusts me. He will want to know, though, eventually. I think we'll be able to tell him. I trust him completely."

The kettle started to whistle, and she glanced over at it.

He followed her gaze, then looked down. Her hand was still on his arm.

"I could--" Hal gestured vaguely in the direction of the kettle.

"No, I've got it. Go ahead and sit down."

She released his arm and went to remove the kettle from the stove. She opened a cabinet to take out two mugs and a box of tea bags, and started prepping the tea.

"Do you take sugar or milk?"

Hal sat, watching Joan bustle around the small kitchen. "Neither. Just... just a splash of cold water. Unless you have herbal?" It was a habit he'd fallen into lately, something that seemed to help curb his impulses. Eating and drinking light. Not too many stimulants.

She glanced back at him, then opened another cabinet.

"I do...we have peppermint, lemon and chamomile. Any of those sound good?"

"Mm. Chamomile will do. Thank you." Hal even gives her a small smile, as if trying to make an effort to stay optimistic even if he knows he's likely doomed.

"Of course."

She prepares the chamomile for him and some earl grey for herself, then joins him again at the table, setting his mug down on the table next to him before sitting down herself. She leaves the tea to steep beside her as she turns to him again.

"How have the cravings been?"

Might as well start right in.

He accepts his tea with a murmur of thanks, barely glancing at it. He seems much more interested in his hands. That doesn't change with the line of questioning. In fact, they start to shake a little, and he clasps them tightly in an attempt to hide it.

"Better now that I'm here." It's a half-truth. He doesn't know quite how to tell her about Snow, about his influence, about what it does to him. But Snow is not here, at least not yet.

She sees how his hands shake before he clasps them, and nods slowly. He's obviously been through a lot.

"How bad did it get?"

For a few moments, Hal honestly can't speak. He's remembering the sight of Alex being drained, the taste of her blood still on his tongue. The maggots. Cutler's proud smile. And, seeping around the revulsion and horror, the way he just wanted more.

"I killed someone."

Joan goes very quiet, very still, staring at his hands, clenched so tightly together. A stark reminder, that what they're talking about might have some of the hallmarks of a drug addiction, but is far more deadly. When he gives in, it doesn't kill him. It kills other people.

And Joan is putting herself right in the cross hairs.

She clasps her hands together as well. She's not going anywhere.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

He just shakes his head, trembling all over now, head still bowed. Where can he even begin? How can he explain what he did to Cutler, how history repeated itself so elegantly, so perfectly, that he never saw it coming? He's a monster, and he should have never tried to be anything else. He should never have dragged Alex into his life. Christ, he shouldn't even be here!

She reaches out and cups his hands with hers.

"It's okay," she says gently. "What's important is what you do from here."

It feels bizarre. He killed somebody. If this were any other situation, she would be calling the police, throwing him in jail. And here she is, comforting him.

It feels bizarre because it is bizarre. It is so far from any other situation.

Hal tenses when she touches him, snatching his hands away violently.

"Don't touch me. Don't you get it? Don't you fucking get it? Everyone around me dies!"

And he's continuing to contract away from her as he spits out the words, drawing up his knees and arms until he's curled in a ball of abject misery.

She pulls back quickly. She wants to comfort him, and it frustrates her that she can't comfort him that way. She sits quietly for a couple long moments, considering him, before speaking again.

"You wouldn't have come here if you didn't think I could help you."

"I didn't know where else to go." The words are, naturally, muffled while in his current near-fetal position. He wonders, though: did he ever really think she could help him? Or was he simply running, forestalling the inevitable?

"You did the right thing. I'm here for you."

She pauses, considering.

"Would you be able to tell me if your cravings started getting bad? If you started getting dangerous?"

"Joan." Hal's voice is quiet and resigned, and when he raises his head to look her in the eye, he looks tired, too. Every second of his age shows on his face. "I am a danger to you every moment that I am here."

She swallows.

"I know." Her voice is quiet, raw, a little afraid, but not overcome. "But there are times when the urge is under control, and times when it's not. Right?"

"Yes," he concedes. "I... I had safeguards in place. Routine. It's what keeps me from slipping." Of course, nothing in the past weeks has been anything close to routine. Not with the arrival of the Old Ones, Cutler resurfacing, Leo and Pearl leaving him. And... and Alex.

"But it may not be enough. It may not be enough to keep him at bay. Especially now."

"Him," she repeats softly. "You mean the person you are when you hurt people," she guesses. "Harry."

He doesn't need to nod; Joan understands already. But he can't help but give an involuntary shiver at the name.

"Sometimes I get an inkling... a feeling that he's coming," Hal explains. "And sometimes he seems to come out of nowhere. Sometimes there's nothing I can do. The only thing I know for certain, Joan, is that he's coming. Sooner or later. He always does."

And he's guessing, just guessing, that with what's going on in Wales and beyond right now, it's going to be sooner rather than later. Much sooner.

"Then we need to work on refining your ability to predict those shifts. And we need to restrain you."

She says it with quiet confidence. She knows he's probably preternaturally strong. Sherlock still has enough at his disposal to hold him down.

"Of course," Hal murmurs quickly, and that he's not at all surprised or deterred by the idea of restraint probably speaks volumes alone. In truth, she is beginning to sound a lot like Leo. They never got the chance to see if Hal could mitigate or even merely prepare for his other self's arrival, however.

"Thank you."

She gives him a faint smile in response to his thanks. "We're going to do whatever we can. I promise."

She takes her mug of tea, takes a careful sip.

"How are you feeling right now?"

"Honestly?" Hal hugs his knees even closer and fixes her with an incredulous stare.

"So on edge that it's as if I'm going to break apart. How should I feel?"

She nods.

"I meant are you feeling like you need to be restrained," she clarifies gently.

He looks more than a bit chagrined. "Oh. Yes." Hal clears his throat. "I think that might be best."

"We'll do that, then."

She stands up and heads for the stairs.

"Drink your tea. I'll be back in a minute."

Hal glances at the tea as if he's just realized it's there.

"All right."

When she gets back, though, he'll be organizing the cupboards, the tea still untouched.

Jon returns with her arms full of a straitjacket, a leather strap, and ankle cuffs. She sees what he's doing and smiles a little.

"Not the best way to get in Sherlock's good graces."

He seems a little bewildered by that, swinging back around with a guilty expression on his face.

"Really? But I've sorted them by color and size," Hal protests. Honestly, who wouldn't want it that way? This Sherlock should be thanking him...

His eyes fall to the equipment Joan's carrying and he nods solemnly, switching gears.

"You're rather alarmingly well-prepared."

"He can be touchy about how his things are laid out. You should have seen him the first time our housekeeper cleaned the living room and arranged all his books alphabetically by academic rigor."

She puts the contents of her arms onto the table, and takes up the straitjacket, shaking out the sleeves and checking the buckles.

"You should see the box that the cuffs came from. It's huge. Usually these are just for practice, so Sherlock ... and I, a little ... can escape if someone kidnaps us. The good part of that is that I know what's inescapable."

Satisfied with the jacket, she holds it so the open back is facing him.

"Ready?"

He hesitates, but only for a moment, and then he holds his arms out.

"Ready."

She slides the jacket up over his arms, then moves behind him and starts buckling the straps. She's being precise but moving quickly, so that she's not in this close of contact any longer than she has to be.

He appreciates that, the minimal touching. He even helps out a bit, telling her she can tighten this or that, double-checking that the bonds hold the way they should.

When the back of the jacket is buckled closed, she reaches around him to catch hold of the straps at the ends of his sleeves. One by one she draws them back, moving his arms around him in a tight self-hug, then secures them. She tugs at the straps, checking to make sure she's buckled them correct, then picks up the belt.

"Sherlock can escape a straitjacket," she says, passing the belt around his torso and arms right above his elbows. "But this would keep him from being able to move. It should also keep you from breaking out by force."

She buckles the belt firmly behind him.

"How does it feel?"

"Safer," he manages after a short pause. And somehow he drags his eyes up to meet Joan's. It strikes him that if Alex were watching, she would have considered this their second date, would probably be giving him a difficult time about it.

If Alex were alive...

"Ah--" The noise is strangled, cut off. Weak. "We'll need to secure the rest of my body to something as well."

Hal looks away again when he says this, guilt written clearly on his face.

Their eyes meet and she offers him a faint smile, hoping it's reassuring, and muses on how they have a lot of trust in each other, even though this is only their second time together.

"We can do that. Here...come sit by the radiator."

She takes him by the arms to guide him over and then help him sit on the floor.

Again, he mutely follows her lead, downcast and more than a little embarrassed. He only hesitates briefly at the idea of sitting on the floor, but pushes it out of his mind. After all, wasn't he on his hands and knees in that store room, lapping up her blood? Maggots and all? He can't afford to be squeamish. This is serious.

He sits.

She notices his expression. "It's harder for you to get up and move this way," she explains. Once he's on the floor, she gets the ankle cuffs and crouches down to secure his legs. Then she sits on the floor as well, facing him.

It'll do, for now. Though Hal won't be completely at ease until he makes an earnest attempt at escape. A vampire's strength is one thing; the strength of a desperate vampire in the throes of withdrawal can be quite another.

"It's all right," he says quietly. "You don't have to sit here with me."

"I want to," she replies, just as quietly. "I'm not going to just leave you here alone."

Hal nods, swallowing. "It might be for the best if you do. I... I might say things..."

"That's not uncommon," she says. "I'm not going to hold anything you say against you."

"You should," he retorts quickly. "That's one thing that you have to understand. Who I am... who I become... he's dangerous."

And then, in a softer voice, "I don't want you to see me like that, Joan."

"I know he's not the person you want to be," she answers gently. "That's important. I understand that he's dangerous. All the more reason for me to stay. To watch over you."

He huffs a bit in frustration, ready to snap... but he stops himself.

"All right. If you must."

She nods and sits back, settling, prepared to stay with him for as long as it takes.

Whoever is committing these murders is vicious. Seven men, hoisted upside down from a tree branch, and gutted groin to sternum. They've made an arrest, Sonja Melchik, a woman with clear mental issues who lived by herself and hunted for her food. And of course, they sent her to the newly state-run Briarcliff.

Joan and Sherlock don't believe it, though. They're pretty sure she at least had help, if she was even involved at all. But the heads of Briarcliff know who Joan and Sherlock are, know their connection to Kit Walker, and are steadfastly refusing to allow Joan inside to talk to Ms. Melchik.

So when Joan calls Kit, she gets to business quickly.

"I want you to help me break into Briarcliff."

Kit? Is a little reluctant to agree to it, but he can't imagine she doesn't have a good reason for it. "...why do you want to do that?" He's going to ask, of course.

"Have you heard of the 'Hunting Harlot?'"

Joan hates that moniker, and the implication that Melchik seduced her victims. There is no evidence that suggests that's the way any of the murders happened, but it's a woman, hence the sexist nickname.

"I have, yeah." He wasn't sure what to think about it. "That's your case?"

"No more than your case was our case. Sherlock and I think there are things that don't add up. And of course, Briarcliff isn't exactly eager to have me back."

"Of course they aren't." He makes a face to himself, but nods. "I can get you in." So long as they haven't closed off the death chute, of course.

"Thank you, Kit. With any luck, we'll get in, get out, and no one will be the wiser."

"So long as we're careful." He remembers what happened to Lana, after all.

"We'll be as careful as possible," she reassures him. "Where should I meet you?"

"Meet me two miles away. We can walk from the station."

"All right. Is tonight too soon?"

"It's fine. I'll get a sitter."

"Let's meet at the station at eight, then."

"I'll see you then."

There's still just a touch of light in the sky at eight. Joan is at the station, standing outside her car and leaning back against it, hands in the pockets of her jacket. It's summer, but out here it still gets chilly come nightfall. At her side is a pack of supplies: flashlights, lock picking tools, pepper spray and a folded baton that Sherlock insisted she take.

It's certainly more than what Lana brought when she broke in, isn't it? As for Kit, he brought a gun and concealed it on his person.

He's not getting stuck in there again, after all. And he's not letting that happen to her. "Hey,"

"Hey," she answers with a smile, and gives him a hug.

"Thank you for doing this."

And she gets a hug back, obviously. "No problem. Really. Ready to head out?"

"Let's do it."

The road to the institution winds through forest, so when full night takes over the sky, it's very dark. Joan is hesitant to break out the flashlights, though, concerned about alerting anyone at Briarcliff to their approach. As long as she can make out the road, she'd rather be in the dark.

He's a little worried about those creatures he remembered running into back when he was a patient here, but...well. He hadn't heard anything about them in a very long time, not since Arden had disappeared. He'd consider it a good sign.

Eventually, they get to the back of the building proper. "There'll be a sort of chute-looking door."

"Chute-looking door," she repeats as she starts feeling along the walls. "Metal?"

"Metal and wood, yeah."

She finds the doors, and discovers that they're open. She takes a step back, frowning.

"They're open. Why would they be open. Are they expecting to bring something through here at some point tonight?"

"They were always open. But I think...I think Arden brought people out through here." Not living people. "I doubt anyone else knew they were here, except that touched nun."

"We should still be careful."

She takes a couple flashlights out of her bag and passes one to him.

"Let me know if you hear anyone coming."

"Thanks." Taking it, turning it on. "I will. You too."

"Sure."

As they head in, though, the sound of their footsteps bounce off the walls to the tunnel, creating an eerie echo. Joan stops for a moment, listening, then starts again, more slowly, taking the time to carefully place each foot.

"It shouldn't be too long from here to the building proper." Past the incinerator, of course. And they'll have to move a cart out of the way.

She nods, her flashlight playing over the walls and the floor. When they come to the cart, she goes behind it and pushes, wincing as the wheels squeal.

"They probably won't hear it. Thick floors." He hopes.

[no smut. thanks.

[He would not describe himself as a religious man by any means. Not by practice, but maybe a sight spiritual by association. However there were times out here in the long empty black of space that they came across something so inexplicably beautiful that Bones couldn't help but stop and stare and wonder at how such a creation exists.]

Look here, Jim. [It was just some old quasar that caught his attention. Of interest to the science teams and the pilots that were itches to take their shuttles out for closer inspection. Bones was neither of these, he was a mere observer in this chapter of their explorations. Yet, for a brief moment, his hatred and fear of space was subsided by awe.]

..and they tell me that if we get too close, the entire ship will crumple like a tin can.

[Jim moved to stand by his friend's side, grinning much like a kid in awe of the sight himself.]

They're right. The gravitational forces around it would tear us apart.

[He'd stopped teasing Bones about his fear of outer space, well, mostly, but he wasn't going to spoil the moment by bringing up the fact of it right now.]

Reminds us that we're not the most important things in the universe. Reminds us of why we're out here: to explore.

Thanks. [He rolls his eyes for that, but there is no force behind the sarcasm. It's just habit.]

Yeah, and I wouldn't mind if we find a thousand of these things. Better some fancy space lightshow than jumping off of alien cliffs. [Ever getting over that? Nope.]

So, you opted not to join the shuttle crew on this one? [Team!Science was just taking off and they could see the shuttle find it's orbit from this viewing deck. Not too close, as it would suffer the same fate as Enterprise, but close enough to get more sensitive readings.]

Oh come on, Bones, that was ages ago. You've gotta learn to let stuff go. Enjoy the moment. [The moments you share with Jim that don't involve running from a native species and jumping off of a cliff when you had, keyword there, a perfectly good shuttle to take back to the enterprise. Or y'know, a beach to use to get there via a stunned domesticated animal. Oops.]

Yeah, Pointy was practically jumping at the chance to get closer to this thing. If he was any more excited to take closer scans he might have broke something.

[That kind of wishy washy zen thinking just isn't in his nature. Grudges are McCoy's best friend. Sorry, Jim.]

I'm enjoying this well enough. Could use a mint julip right about now... and a lawn chair. [This redneck moment brought to you by the wonderful feeling that Enterprise is currently Vulcanless and Bones kind of wants to see how far off regulation they can get.]

Oh, and how exactly can you tell? His excited face looks an awful lot like his, every other face.

[And here Jim had some silly notion that he was his best friend.]

You know I don't think I requisitioned any of those for our five year mission before we left space dock.

[He can't help a laugh at the mention of Spock's faces for any particular circumstance, but he does give him a smirk.] It's all in the eyebrows, Bones. You just gotta look for it.

[Since welcoming her aboard the Enterprise, Jim had barely said a word to Carol--Dr. Marcus, much less made himself apparent to her if he were in the same room. It wasn't that he was avoiding her, no, that definitely wasn't it.

He just usually had captainy things to do when he was in her general vicinity.

Only he'd suddenly found himself cornered by a none too happy looking Dr. Marcus in the passageway on the way to his quarters after the late watch.

Shit. He grinned widely like nothing was wrong. "Dr. Marcus, good to see you." A beat. "Isn't your quarters that way?" He pointed back the way he came.

While their relationship couldn't be defined by any normal or even abnormal standards, there was definitely a relationship there. Sometimes they slept together, sometimes they enjoyed coffee together, and sometimes they fought Klingons together. What they didn't do, however, was ignore each other; their personalities, their accomplishments, their essences were too great not to notice. Carol understood this, and she figured that Jim did too. It was obvious that there was something there (something that even she didn't fully comprehend or perhaps didn't want to), but god he just couldn't ignore her. You didn't have great sex like that and just forget. That was against the very law of civilization -- hell! The very law of existence.

So, with that in mind, after pulling on double shifts for the express purpose of hunting him down, Carol tracked and cornered him in the passageway near his quarters. It was a familiar location, even though she's only been on the ship for a few weeks now and three times previously. Her face was already haggard and stern after that twelve-hour shift, but Jim's flippant replies makes it even more so. "Oh, are you speaking to me? I'm sorry, with the way you've been treating me for the past few weeks, I thought you forgotten who I was." Her voice was marinated in sarcasm and the taste was very strong on her tongue. Carol put her arms at akimbo, raising a brow expectedly.

"I didn't forget who you were. That's ridiculous." he says. He didn't much like the way this conversation seemed to be headed. His internal warning system was flashing the red alert and he couldn't help but look for the easiest egress route out of there.

Too bad it was only back the way he came.

She notices his glances away from her to down the way they came and she lets out a derisive snort. Says the person looking for a way out from an angry, hundred-fifteen pound woman.

Carol sarcastically laughs, folding her arms across her chest and looking away from him. "Then please, enlighten me." She's rather looking forward to his ridiculous excuse.

[OOC: I know you might not know this guy but I once had a plot with these two characters long ago on another site and it was hilarious because Accelerator is a jerk and Wheatley is optimistic. Hope you don't mine me tagging in. The word I got is this one, which I think is even more interesting because I don't think either character would be good at this. How does a setting where these two have to be partners for something sound?]

[ooc: I don't know the character, no, but I don't mind you tagging in at all! From the sounds of it, this could be very entertaining, and that word can only make it more so - I know Wheatley, at least, is pretty terrible at that sort of thing, heheh. And that setting works perfectly for me, definitely sounds good. c: ]

[OOC: He has a potty mouth and is a grade A jerk but he's actually kind of a softie after digging through all the jerk layers, so fair warning!][The albino gave a click of his tongue as he looked over at the metal ball the scientists declared his partner for this experiment.]

They have to be shitting me. A computer? What am I supposed to do with that? Wait, what was it we were supposed to be doing again? I don't think they ever briefed me. Some kind of social thing, I think.

[Accelerator looked over at his "partner", not expecting too much. He was honestly expecting a monotone, AI-like voice similar to the clones he worked with. At least this thing was actually a robot and he didn't think he was supposed to kill it.]

Do you know anything more about this?

[ooc: warning noted! sounds like this should be pretty fun.]

Yes, of course! And I'd be happy to fill you in, naturally, considering we're partners for this and all.

[The voice emitted from the "metal ball" was nothing remotely monotonous, and in fact had quite the range in avaliable tone, plus a happy little British accent for Accelerator to work with. And, in fact, Wheatley sounded quite chipper at the moment, happy to be working with someone.]

It's a social experiment of sorts, I believe. Something about reading social cues and all that, knowing what not to say in a given situation and gauging another's mood. Sounds like great fun to me, really. I'm quite perceptive to what others are feeling, you know. [He gave a little nod from where he was hanging on the security railing, somehow managing to appear almost solemn. ...Then he paused and almost seemed to think for a moment.] Well, I suppose you wouldn't know, would you? We've never met before, after all, so how could you? Either way, you'll see in time, yes indeed.

[And moving on from thoughtful, he turned almost a bit smug, then right back in to chipper.]

I don't believe I got your name before all this though, so would you mind if I asked it? Since we'll be working together, seems like it might be an idea to get each other's names, wouldn't you agree?

[Well, he wasn't expecting the metal ball to be so lively. How could something that was a computer or whatever be so optimistic? Not unless it wasn't a computer at all and simply a remote control toy and being operated by a real person in a control room? Wouldn't an AI be rather generic and neutral simply because it's more efficient? A complex computer would be very expensive not to mention require some really expensive research. The accent was unusual, but not something he'd never heard before. After all, not everyone from Academy City was Japanese. Speaking of which, where was this facility and who was involved?]

I can't remember my real name. I've been Accelerator for a very long time, so you can just call me that.

[He scratches his head.]

Have you got a name?

Can't remember your real name? Shame, that. Can't imagine how frustrating that must be. [He makes a motion that may as well be considered a shake of the head before returning to the chipper attitude once more.] A pleasure to meet you, in any case.

[The question asked of him, however, obviously throws him a little. He blinks, surprised for a moment, and then becomes rather offended that the question is asked in such a way.]

Have I got a--Of course I've got a name! Why on earth wouldn't I? Just because I'm not human doesn't mean I haven't got something as important as that. Pets have names, you know, and they're generally less intelligent than humans, yeah? And here I am, smarter than the average human, right, so I figure I'm as deserving of one as you are. [In his huff off offended behaviour and even irritation with being asked such a thing, he almost forgets the fact that Accelerator forgot his name. Almost. Remembering a few seconds after he finishes speaking, Wheatley pauses, then starts backpedaling.] Oh. Ah. Except that you forgot yours. [He laughs a little nervously.] So sorry. Don't mean you any offense or anything, not intentionally. I'm, ah. You can call me Wheatley, mate.

[The albino definitely didn't seem to realize he'd said something rude, nor did particularly care if he did.]

Alright, Wheatley it is, then.

[He pauses a moment, a sense of something missing taking over.]

Don't you think this experiment is pointless? Is there some kind of goal to be obtained? Sitting here and making idle chit chat is useless.

Edited 2013-07-20 23:09 (UTC)

(since her canon is obscure, here's some info--there's a teeensy bit from the game I first played her in, but mostly canon/headcanon to fill in gaps. we'll just assume actual timeline is all wibbly wobbly timey wimey for her. Oh, and here's the word)

[when Mandy noticed the female roadie--not groupie, she knew the difference better than anyone, having been a bi of both in a few short years--she actually stopped dragging on her cigarette and watched for a bit while she helped. Didn't pay a bit of attention to the act, she never paid attention to the other people who went on after her, but she watched the woman. Mostly because, wasn't often one saw a female roadie. And she had to wonder about that. Couldn't be trying to hit it big, could it, not like this. Oh, she'd started out that way, doing all Brian's wardrobe and lights and everything all on her own for almost two years, but everyone knew Brian was going to be a star, it was just the legwork. And that was...different, in too many ways.

And look where it had gotten her. Risen straight to the stars, only to plummet back down to Earth with only a last name no one remembered and a screwed up heart to show for it.

Maybe this girl had it right, then. Maybe it was a better idea not to stick yourself to one ponced up rockstar-to-be, doing all his work riding his coattails until he decided to shake you off without caring how scraped up you got in the process. At any rate, she was...interesting.

Swallowing the rest of her drink, Mandy walked over, with a smirk that was just a little bit bitter and sad] Hey. I ah, don't mean to be a bother, but--just, haven't seen a female roadie in long time, kinda refreshing to see a woman who's not just hanging on the band waiting to get into their pants.

( ooc; cool business. she seems like an interesting character! c: )

[ It wasn't the first time she had been singled out and probably wouldn't be the last. Being a female roadie was rare but mostly because it was stressful in its own ways. Spending all your time surrounded by rude, crude dudes was just one of the problems; unlike this woman most people didn't understand the difference between a groupie and roadie and so often the blond was also often looked down upon for being around to just get close to the band members. Truthfully, any sort of romantic involvement was the last thing on her mind and especially with anyone with the potential fame. That'd draw far too much attention to herself. ]

Oh, it's not a bother! Not at all. [ There's a sincere smile at the woman's words. ] But, uh, thanks. Yeah, no, I just... uhm. I just love the music, you know? I like being close to it and helping to make it better any way I can.

[ It was kind of a bold thing to say when all she did was set up props and fetch higher up's coffee... but it was actually one thing that was true. She loved music, any kind, and in that way this profession happened to kill two birds with one stone. ]

Uhm, my name is Rosalina Nurumi. But you can just call me Rose! Everyone does.

[Mandy can't help but laugh that, but it's not a cruel laugh--although, there might be something sort of sad in it, because wasn't that how she started? Loving the music, wanting to change the world with it, start a revolution. All those stoned talks with Brian about 'moving progress more quickly. What bollocks that had turned out to be. If anything, most days she felt the world had gone back half a dozen steps since they'd all fizzled out.

But that was neither here nor there. This girl, she thinks, seems genuine in her enthusasim. And if that was rare back then when everyone was playing a part, it's even rarer now when most are too jaded to even pretend]

You're quite welcome dahling--Rose. [the little spark of the posh starlet slips back in without a thought, as it always does when she even grazes the side of the world she once walked in] Can't say I've heard that sort of talk in a long time, either. Usually women of your--caliber--are quite frank about the fact they're just trying to make it for themselves. The men too, to be honest. Not many people just in it for--art for art's sake, anymore. Makes my cold, dead heart warm.

[she grins, and if it's twisted, it's clear she means it--it's just that working up the joy she once had for the scene is--well, it's painful] Oh, where are my manners. Mandy. Slade. [she rolls her eyes in the vague direction of the marquee that advertised her occasional lounge performances, even further down the ladder of success than whomever this girl is trekking along with. She reaches into her purse out of habit, taking out her lighter and holding out the carton of cigarettes in silent invitation]

Edited 2013-07-17 09:04 (UTC)

photo tumblr_lxxg0fWIAu1r6nm6ao1_r1_500_zps2476539b.png

oubliette (n.) a dungeon with a door only in the ceiling; a place where you put people to forget about them.

[When General Ross said that he would throw Bruce in a hole and never let him out, he was absolutely sure he meant that literally. Of course, they had tried that before - it didn't work so well then. But apparently the military had upped their standards since then. He was literally in a prison miles underground, with layers of steel between him and the sunlight. It was what he'd been running from for a long time.]

[It was his mistake, really. He'd let his guard down since the avengers, the past months with them making him start to feel something akin to comfortable in his skin again. Hell, the Hulk was even considered a hero in the public eye now. He should've know that it was too good to be true. One night, the managed to infiltrate the tower and dope him with adrenaline inhibitors before taking him away. And now, here he was.]

[ unlike his friends, and to be perfectly honest the entirety of his house, remus has no particular enmity towards slytherins; though it should be noted that he doesn't have a particular love for them either. it seems childish to judge a whole body of people based on the actions of a few, so when he's paired with regulus on a history of magic assignment, specifically on goblin rebellions, he doesn't so much as flinch. they're sitting in the library, remus practically obscured by volumes of thick texts, regulus across from him busy with his own research.

he looks remarkably like sirius he notes idly, the same black hair, the same aristocratic features. but regulus holds himself differently; where sirus would be lounging in his seat, regulus sits straight, and more importantly he's actually doing his share of the work where sirius would be off with james planning their next prank.

it's a needed break from the norm, and he would like to think that they're working in a companionable sort of silence. after a beat, remus looks across at regulus from underneath the shag of his brown hair, with a twisted sort of half-smile. it's not forced, not exactly, but there is a certain hesitance in the gesture. ]

Find anything interesting?

[Maybe Regulus is just childish, because he resents being partnered with a half-blood and a Gryffindor. But he resents it largely because he knows he's supposed to. It's expected of him.

That doesn't mean that he goes out of his way to be rude. The Black family already has one son who doesn't know how to behave, so since the start of the assignment he's been quiet, distant, but not outwardly peckish. He's almost forgotten that Remus is there.

Until he speaks. Regulus blinks, peering over the top of the book at his brother's best mate. Remus is smiling at him, and for a moment he's thoroughly suspicious. But there doesn't seem to be any malice behind it. The question itself seems like a general sort of inquiry, one that any student would ask. Regulus clears his throat before speaking.]

Nothing that I haven't read on the back of a Chocolate Frog Card two hundred times before. Certainly nothing that will make our report stand out.

[ it's not that remus feels uncomfortable in the presence of the opposite sex per se, he just finds it a bit... intimidating. it had taken him a while to warm up to lily, now they can share messages with just a single glance, but he hasn't known dorcas for long. they're taking a stroll outside on the grounds, the weather is really too nice to be cooped up inside, and remus smiles slightly at the girl beside him noting how the sun filters through her blonde hair.

he doesn't know dorcas that well yet, but he feels as if he would like to.

mindful of his own enhanced strength, one of the few boons of lycanthropy he supposes, he gently grips dorcas's forearm and steers her in the direction of the black lake.

it's one of his favorite places on the castle grounds; quiet and shaded, and more often than not secluded. ]

You don't mind a slight detour on our trip, do you? We'll be back in time for divination, promise.

(unlike the rest of her friends - bold, brilliant lily and beautiful, graceful marlene) dorcas was comfortable around the opposite sex only because, all things considered, she was rather plain. prone to excited rambling or anxious silence whenever her nerves got the better of her.

assured by lily that he really was 'an good sort', dorcas had readily agreed to a walk around the grounds. not least because summer was in full swing and the castle always seemed particularly stifling on days like this one.

caught off guard by the curl of his fingers around her arm, she falters for the briefest of moments, recovering quickly as the corners of her lips lift into a bright smile)

No no, of course not. Detours are wonderful. (and then, almost as an afterthought) I'm rubbish at divination anyway.

((Komorebi: sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees.))

There wasn't much shade in Night Vale, and that was just the way the Harkers liked it. More sun meant less vampires, and what trees did grow tended to be shriveled and perpetually on the edge of death. Until now- for some reason, tall ebony trees with blood-red leaves were sprouting up all over the place, and the sun that shone through them cast shadows od strange creatures Mina didn't know the names for.

Even stranger was the fact that, when she talked to her neighbors, most of them hadn't noticed the trees. Those that did remembered them being there for years. A civi-minded woman, Mina decided to write in to the local radio station about it.

-- hang on, listeners.

I've just been handed a note concerning the recent tree infestation here in Night Vale, because as you all know, the only plant life that our desert biome can support are native cacti, olneya, acacia trees -- not to be confused with the trees that have become a true, proven eyesore -- and small shrubberies that periodically demand you sacrifice all unspayed household pets to them, lest they devour your mortal soul. And it says -- [ In which Cecil, dedicated radio host, actually pauses for breath and skims the note delivered to him by a civil-minded woman; and then promptly excuses himself from the air, leaving loyal listeners temporarily with A Word From Our Sponsor and No Word on the note.]

(Today's show is sponsored by Apple: "Steve Jobs will rise again in three days, you have been warned. Buy stock today!")

[Cecil, in turn, calls this civil-minded woman during the break. How? Well, by using the phone book, waiting patiently through the ringing and then politely announcing himself to who, or whatever, might be on the other end:] This is Cecil, from Night Vale's radio station. I've called to let you know I've received your letter concerning the tree infestation and would like to ask if you would like to give a statement, provide commentary or scream ceaselessly in stark terror, as you're welcome to do so.

"Yes, thank you. They've just started popping up all over the place, reflecting the shadows of strange beings through the leaves. I'm worried they might be demons in disguise."

Anywhere else, she'd have worried about being thought insane, but the radio station had reported on stranger things. That was what had helped Jonathan make peace with his double, after all.

[Even Giles couldn't keep all the necessary spell components on hand for any possible eventuality. When a protective charm had called for a rock with a hole worn in it by a rushing river, he'd come up empty.

He'd also said something about it being too draining for her to maintain, but Willow had tuned him out a bit after that. So here she was, at one of Sunnydale's parks late in the afternoon, after classes. She'd rolled her jeans up to her knees, and was trying to ignore the stares of people passing by, as she paced the rocky riverbed seeking just the right stone.]

[Tara is also at the park, here after she had spent the past few hours working on a huge midterm project for one of her classes. So, when she sees Willow in the river, she decides to join her. Wearing a long skirt, she ties it in a knot at the side as high as she could before stepping in -- though she knows the skirt will probably wind up soaked pretty quickly anyway despite her best efforts -- and standing beside Willow.]

Hey. [Tara gives Willow one of her loving smiles.] Did you lose something in here?

[Willow looks up, surprised to hear someone else splashing towards her. At least until she sees that someone is Tara - then she smiles back, and wades over to meet her.] Hey. [She leans in to press a quick kiss to Tara's lips.] And nah. I'm just trying to find something. Which I guess sounds like I lost it, but I never had it. Neither did Giles. Hence the looking.

Wanna help me look for rocks with holes in them?

Edited 2013-07-10 21:28 (UTC)

[Tara gives Willow's arm a small touch as she smiles against her lips.] Sure. I'm always up for spending time with you, which goes without saying. How many holes, and rocks?

Just the one hole. I was thinking just the one rock, but hey, maybe we can get two and match.

I suddenly feel ambitious.

[Smiling happily, Willow looked down into the streambed, nudging a few unlikely looking pebbles aside with the toes of her bare feet.]

And make matching necklaces? We could even paint them. [Tara goes for a more hands on approach and she squats down, finally getting her skirt wet, and using her hands to pick up and examine the rocks and pebbles.] I guess you still need one to take to Giles, but who says we can't get some for us too?

And make matching necklaces. With paint. Maybe even tye-dye paint. [They both made pastel colors look so good, after all - especially Tara. And besides, a necklace would probably be the best way to keep the protections of the spell close, after all. And there was nothing that said they couldn't paint the rocks, for concealment or decoration, especially if they chose paint without too many chemicals.]

I like the way you think. [Looking genuinely pleased at the possibility of adding a little extra craft to the witchcraft, Willow wades a little to the bank to sift through there.] We don't really need three - I just went to Giles first, 'cause I thought he'd have one already. Should have known he'd say no. But we could always find more. Save up for when something goes wrong.

The Other Wordly meme

Dick Grayson / Nightwing • DCnU

Mako • Legend of Korra

Mina Harker | Dracula | OTA

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Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | M/M

Hatter | Syfy's Alice | OTA

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Re: Hatter | Syfy's Alice | OTA

Re: Hatter | Syfy's Alice | OTA

Morticia Addams | The Addams Family | OTA

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Five | OC | OTA

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Joan Watson | Elementary

hello again!

Hi there! <3

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Sorry for the delay! Had to go back and read the old thread :)

np! Sorry for the delay on my end <3<3

No worries! <3

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