Rooms

[At the edges of a facility in Romania, tens of thousands of black pillar candles appear. No one enters or goes close to the facility, but the entire place is ringed with unlit black candles, which are left in the snow. They sit, undisturbed, a perfect circle more than a two miles' radius, until the next snowfall dusts them with specks of white.]

[Despite the careful cover ups and easy culprits in the deaths of the respected diplomat and his friend the rebel leader, word is getting around to Hydra that someone wants their heads. They get nervous, and some cells start shutting down projects to move them elsewhere or putting them into cold storage. They move, and moving makes them vulnerable. These public assassinations, then, work exactly as their architect had planned.

Much like the deaths of the men in the bunker, the next attack is quiet. It does not hit the international press. Within Hydra, a report circulates. ( It goes like this: )

[This again?]

Speak up.

[While she and Clint are waiting outside the Osborn facility, alerts that she set up before heading out start lighting up her line. In an effort to get the lay of the land, she has intel markers out, and one of them has something very interesting to say. It's immediately followed by something more ritualistic in nature, and she leans against her bike and her fingers fly over the keys as she breaks her way into the heavily encrypted network. From there, she traces the path backward, and then she does her best to predict future hit points.

Untraceable, the virus is tiny, elegant, and it's set to trigger every panel and console at the next pinpointed locations if someone trips her security web.]

мы сыграть игру?

[Shall we play a game, comrade?]

[Max texted Ella the address to Mayflowers, and then she did her best to manage the pre-Christmas rush that was making them run low on everything red and white in the store. She had no idea how to keep the plants alive, and she was just learning about arranging, as evidenced by the thorn welts all over her hands, but she could work a register like nobody's business, and she could fight with suppliers, and she was doing both at the moment.

Amanda was within her sights, working with the arranger and being very opinionated about the placement of some rare orange roses, her Catholic school uniform completely unsullied. Max had changed Amanda's school when she purchased the shop, and Amanda actually liked the new school better. She didn't like this new process of mom picking her up and bringing her back to the store at the end of the day, but that was a work-in-progress. With the exception of some verbose manifestos on the health benefits of caregiver breaks in young children, things were settling.

She still had to finish packing up the old apartment and moving upstairs, but that was her plan for Christmas, when the shop would be closed.

Jeans and an old Army tee layered with plaid, she figured it was as good a time as any to see her aged up sister and niece. At least if it went badly, there would be a full store to keep anyone from yelling.]

Who: Sebastian & Evie (and Wren & Luke if they decide to come)
What: A blind date at a wine tasting?
Where: Sebastian's wine shop
When: Thursday evening
Warnings/Rating: TBD

( The store was small, intimate even, and the people within made it feel not cramped but cozy. )

[Locked to Sam A]

[After seeing this.]

It appears you've been replaced.

Who: Daryl and NPC!SeeDs
What: getting out of the Final Fantasy door is not so easy
Where: FF Door -> Hotel
When: now
Warnings/Rating: light language

( Nothing was ever going to make sense again, was it? )

Shit, nobody said that getting out of the world into this creepy hotel was going to be hard. Ugh, monsters, I'm a airship pilot and gambler, not an adventurer.

But, surprise, it's life, everything's hard. Anything worth doing anyway.

At least there's drinks here.

[Babs was, in a word, exhausted. Also ecstatic. She supposed two words were fine enough for her. Lucy? Lucy was perfect, plain and simple. Swaddled in her arms, Babs couldn’t find much interest in anything or anyone but the tiny baby in her arms. After a long labor and some much needed rest, she had checked to see how Dick had broken the news to everyone – laughing softly at the million (okay, thirty four) pictures, and shaking her head ruefully at the namesake surprise in Lucy’s name – but other than being pleased with responses, she hadn’t mustered enough energy to respond herself. Not yet.

For now she just watched quietly as Lucy yawned, her tiny face scrunching up before her owlish eyes blinked up at her. That earned a coo, the start of a sing-song lilt from the redhead, but only for a few notes before she was interrupted by a knock at the door. ]

Come in. [Though she called out, she hadn’t taken her eyes off Lucy just yet. She hadn’t expected anyone in particularly, but she figured it was only a matter of time before more people started coming by.]

[After this.]

Have you talked to him?

[He has hesitated over this for a while. He actually talked it out to himself at Alexa's grave while he was leaving memorial flowers on the Solstice. He misses her more than he logically knows he should, as she's dead and there's nothing for him in his world other than random Immortals who want to behead him.

So out of the door's in his best interest for survival.]

[Daniel W.]
I know you don't know me, but we have a mutual acquaintance. Sam. She spoke very highly of you ("he likes old shit"), and I love good conversation.

[Sam A.]
In case you're keeping track, I am contacting Daniel. Happy whatever winter holiday you celebrate or don't.