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January 5th, 2013

[info]boredpursuit in [info]doorslogs

Who: Snow and Faust
Where: Beast's castle
When: Backdated a little bit
What: Pretend family reunions!
Warnings: None

Stop the presses everyone: Rose wants something. It’s Rose’s happiness that’s important, fleeting and fickle though it was. )

[info]incharge in [info]doorslogs

Who: Neil and Chloe
What: Exes have dinner and catch up.
Where: Circo.
When: Backdated to before the holidays.
Warnings/Rating: None.

Chloe said nothing for the longest time, eventually drawing her fingers away from where they had brushed his sleeve, letting them rest against the stem of the wine glass instead, manicured and perfectly shaped, losing herself in her thoughts for several moments. )

[info]watson_md in [info]doorslogs

Who: Alexander and Sevastian
Where: Las Vegas airport and Alexander's house
When: Friday evening
What: Sevastian comes home after seven awful weeks on family business in Russia
Warnings: Mild profanity

The house smelled as it ought to, the indescribable-yet-perfectly-familiar mixture of laundry detergent and familiar meals once cooked and traces of the girls’ legion of perfumes and cleaning supplies and all of it, the perfect, unreplicatable cocktail of home. )

[info]riddlethem in [info]doorslogs

Who: Riddler, Red Robin
Where: A Riddler death trap in Old Gotham
When: fuzzy timelines, but recently
What: Riddler is taking down his death traps and Tim makes him want to kill something.
Warnings: A little violence.

Riddler didn’t blink. He stared at Tim with a sort of long gaze that a wild animal would give a hiker that strayed too far off the trail. )

[info]mariachi in [info]doorslogs

who: amy & open.
where: the venetian casino.
when: night.
what: she's been elected as the official follower-arounder of a potential human trafficker. joy.
warnings: not yet.

“He’s been running from us for a long time. Been real successful at it too, ‘cause cops’re useless—all they care about’s speeding tickets and fucking disorderly conduct.”

His voice was a vintage political Bob Dylan ballad and he smelled like tapestries and rituals. )