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November 12th, 2013


[info]i_soldieron in [info]we_coexist

Sweets for the Sweet

Dean went home with his treasured booty. He took the time to grind and brew it up; it was quickly poured into a thermos. He headed out the door with one other destination in mind before heading to his final one.

He got yet another bag that made him more than a little happy. It smelled so good. And soon, he was on his way to the correct destination. He had a few places in mind. He touched the ring Dinah had given him, just a light nudge. He wasn’t in trouble, so he wouldn’t activate it; he didn’t want to frighten her.

Instead he used his brain. He knew where she liked to perch, and soon he was standing at the foot of one of the buildings. Pulling his own comm link from his pocket, he sent a signal to her and waited. If he wasn’t in the right place, he would be eventually.

---- )

[info]i_moderate in [info]we_coexist

Wash's Gift. (narrative)

The City wished to keep the promise it had made to Hoban Washburne. Not because it felt badly for the man, though it did - despite not exactly knowing what the feeling was, but because it liked to keep promises, and it liked to see the citizens happy. The ramifications of Hoban crashing his space vehicle into the barrier and almost getting himself killed were widespread. Rippling through the community and touching everybody.

Which was decidedly not good.

It began construction on the idea it had come up with as soon as it found a suitable place. When it was finished, the City deposited a strange looking key into the pants pocket of the pilot. It would recognize his touch, and only work for him. It would also recognize if he was alive, so nobody could do something foolish like try to take his hand and use the key. It wasn't that what the City was giving him was so important to the general scheme, it was that the City wanted Wash to have a place that was truly his own.

The key would open a door that Wash would be able to find as soon as he began to look for it, no matter where he was within the wall. If he wanted the door, the door would be there.

On the other side of the door, a long series of stairs. Curving and bending. Twisting, always headed down. At the very bottom, a ladder. Simple steel. It would take him to a porthole. The porthole would open up - using the key again - onto another ladder, which would take him into a cockpit.

A perfect replica of the one on his beloved ship, Serenity. Just the cockpit, though. Every button would be there. Every switch. Outside of the window - space. Endless space. Where the City moved, Wash would be able to see the new stars, the different planets, his view would be unencumbered by anything. If he moved the steering mechanism, the cockpit would swivel, and he would be able to give himself a panoramic view.

The city hoped that it was what the man wanted. It was the best it could do.
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[info]i_seegreen in [info]we_coexist

A thin line....(Dinah)

When things were going to settle down was a time Bruce could only hope for. Not that his life had really ever run smoothly, even since his childhood which had started off extremely rocky, until now with his marriage and life in the City. If asked about his life now, Bruce probably would've claimed that he wouldn't change the way it was which was true. He wouldn't. He liked the life he was leading. It was actually pretty fulfilling for what it was and had become. He just wished it had more peace in it.

If it wasn't one thing it was something else. He didn't have time to be out on the street either keeping an eye on what his family was up to, meaning the things Edward was getting into and keeping track of Effie.

But when the call had come this time from the City jail, all Bruce could do was sigh, listen to the charges and be both annoyed with and proud of Effie at the same time. He was glad she had the guts to turn herself in to the police for her crimes, but she was just starting to adjust to life...this new chance she had been given and now she wasn't going to be back home for who knew how long. Again.

It was frustrating to say the least but the scientist was determined.

Bruce had called Dinah Lance, a friend he knew that kept an eye on his beloved, and they had agreed to meet at the City Park. Not that they had to meet in public, but it was safer for both of them should his emotions spike. Annie was at the Tower and an outbreak there would be very bad.

So that was how Bruce found himself sitting on one of the vacant swings in the even emptier playground. Dusk was settling around the park, but Bruce didn't mind. The autumn chill tried to hold on to him but his coat deterred any breeze from getting to the sensitive skin. He breathed out a fog of air and hoped Effie would be home for Christmas. The Violetta murders were a pretty big ordeal to claim to have done. And Bruce wasn't seeing any end in sight save for her incarceration in Blackgate. Jail wasn't where Effie needed to be. She needed to be home, but he couldn't make her do what she didn't feel was right in her heart. He had to trust she had turned herself in for a good reason.

This was what it was like when one started to become morally grey. And Bruce hated it.