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Dec. 21st, 2013


Another year, another spat (Dinah/Dean, TBC in comments)

Once the planning was underway for her new costume, Dinah knew that it was time to go home and explain things to Dean. She wanted to check on Zoe too, but she couldn’t keep this secret any longer than she already had. It wasn’t that she’d intended to keep the fact that she’d had to have the Hulk come and help her dodge bullets. It was just that she’d wanted to do something about it before she told Dean. She knew that he wanted her safe and she wanted to be able to show him that she was doing the best she could. She also really didn’t want him to worry. Sure, she knew that that sort of thing came with the territory, but at the very least she didn’t want him worrying more than necessary.

She let herself into their apartment and looked around to see if the man in question was home just yet. The apartment itself wasn’t quite as festive as the previous year, though she had made sure that they had a tree. She’d been cautious about putting up much else in the way of decorations because last year she’d been overcompensating in an attempt to keep her mind off Jake’s absence. And it had backfired, really. Taking everything down after Dean had decided to go off hunting hadn’t been that much fun.

She couldn’t help but worry that this year might be a repeat of the last year. Then again, he’d returned not too long after and that had been the first time they’d actually exchanged ‘I love yous’ so it hadn’t been all that bad in the end. Still, she hoped that this conversation went better than the reveal about her talk with Eric.

We wish you a merry threadmas... )

Dec. 16th, 2013


Getting lost...(Maxine; threadmas)

Logan locked up the front door to Fixit'.

It had been a long day, a day that had been both frustrating and yet somehow productive. Frustrating because the piles of things needing repairing seemed endless due to the fact that Megan couldn't so repairs (not that Logan held that against her) and productive because he had been able to make a dent in the things that needed his help.

He was efficient enough, as well, to make some of the things he was fixing work better than they had before they had come in. Motors could be re-wired, changed and altered, and made to work and run better. Logan didn't mind the extra upgrades because that meant less work for him. Honestly he was probably going to put all of them out of a job if he wasn't careful, but that would take a while even at his pace.

But it was closing time and Logan was glad for it.

He pulled down the gate, made sure it was secure and then took a moment to gather himself.

A sniff of the street told him nothing out of the ordinary was going on, and with that the mutant turned and slid his keys into his pockets, walking away from the shop. His boots clicked against the pavement and a swirl of leaves danced around him as he moved back in the direction of the motel he was staying at.

His eyes caught some of the festive decorations in the store windows that lined the streets and though Logan wasn't feeling particularly festive he still enjoyed that others were.

A car honked from somewhere down the street but Logan paid it no mind. Those were typical city sounds. Nothing major and no reason to give it any thought. With a grunt Logan crossed the street in the middle, walking against the traffic, to the other side.

Dec. 13th, 2013


So...that happened (Sam, threadmas)

The pawnshops had been hit for a few nights now, even prior to that one particular announcement, but the oddity of the robberies didn't require attention until after the announcement. The Bat needed to act; there'd been too much silence, and the woman who wore the cowl, what it was, needed to hurt something, to right some wrong.

The pawnshops in each case were more or less intact after the robberies, and they didn't lose much in the way of money. No, what they lost were odd little things. The thieves knew what they were looking for and got just what they wanted. They didn't bother with more. A watch here, a cufflink there, a trombone with a broken slide. It made no sense, but the latest one had left a young woman hurt.

Janet had had her eye on the charm bracelet for some time, and she'd had every intention of buying it that day when the shop was attacked. She tried it on, and then one of the thieves asked her for it. Janet had been ready to pay for it, and now some masked stranger was demanding it from her. She didn't want to give up the bracelet, but the robber wasn't taking no, not even a let me think about it. The robber knocked Janet out and took the bracelet.

The Bat got the report and decided to stake out pawnshops. This particular night two happened to be in spying distance from a rooftop corner. The Bat perched and watched. Maybe tonight there would be some justice and pain. Something would be done.


Holiday madness.... (Open; threadmas!)

The mall. Bruce hated the mall.

There were too many people rushing every which way to screw someone out of a deal. Stores were overflowing with both Christmas Cheer and multitudes of restless shoppers.

Not the ideal place for someone like Bruce.

But he had a wife to get something for, which as almost as difficult as mustering up the courage to actually come to a shopping mall.

Lucky for the scientist they had a frozen yogurt stand. He could tolerate yummy goodness while he waited for the crowds to level out. Mostly he was there for Sanrio, Hello Kitty was one of Effie'a favorites. And now he was going to eat this yogurt and be patient.

He had managed to get all the way from the kiosk to a vacant bench, one that wasn't occupied by the work down shoppers or snot-nosed brats, and realized quickly to his dismay...."There is no spoon...."

With a frown Bruce sighed heavily

He hated the mall.

Slowly the scientist rose and carried his treat back to the kiosk, grabbing a spoon out of the cup at the counter. Now maybe he could finally enjoy something about this day. And watch with amusement as everyone else scurried about in hopes of finding the best deal.

The line for children taking photographs with Santa was almost too much in its own right. And far too expensive. Was Timmy too old for Santa? Did he even care? Doubtful.

Dec. 12th, 2013


A morning in. (Jo, threadmas)

Wash was in Jo's living room with his cast leg propped on a pillow and his cast arm resting in his lap. He was out of the hospital. This was great. Watching Jo stoically mope was...well...not so great. Not that he could blame her.

Every once and a while he would take a sip of one of Maxine's boxed juice drinks. Grape. His slurping seemed to permeate the thick air of the otherwise quiet mid morning.

He stared at Jo, watching. Jo had nothing on Zoe's moping abilities, but she was definitely in the running.

"So..." he said, finally breaking the solace. "Wanna talk about it?"



Certainty (OPEN, Threadmas!)

There were a couple of things Abraham was certain of in the City. One, Beauty was absolutely delightful and two, trying to sense the City's emotions gave him an enormous headache and a hangover worse than beer ever would. Fortunately, both of these effects were short lived.

A few days had passed and Abe was growing disgruntled at how at home he felt in this City shaped cage. The stresses of his previous life were not an issue here. He worried for Liz and the fate of the twins and the fate of his brother, Hellboy, but having surmised how little he could do to return to his universe he had become content to ride out whatever the City had planned for him.

One of his radios had gone off a couple of days ago with an announcement of missing residents. He didn't feel any attachment to the names so he did not think to look into it.

The pond where he resided was close to Beauty's cottage and he gave a glance to the French style house before heading into the City proper with his gloved hands behind his back. Having gotten used to the stares from others, he noticed they were beginning to get used to him. At least a little.

Though, still, a disguise might be nice. Maybe a coat...a costume beard...large brimmed hat. Might not be too difficult to find...

He eyed a clothing store pondering if he should enter.

Dec. 11th, 2013


10 feet of Crazy in a 5'4" Frame (Megan, threadmas)

Power? The City wanted power? There were dozen others it could have claimed, but it took her husband? It took her Viking king. She was tempted to raze large parts of the places to show just how much she didn't care for this situation. She was tempted to see just how many of its children she could turn into frogs or snakes; perhaps they could go about eating each other. The crone was more than ready to shove the City back into a human body and see just how much power it might need. It didn't even have a God to protect it. Stupid City.

Baba Yaga didn't stay in the castle. She couldn't. She took to the cabin more often than not; it seemed just as sad as its mistress. She wanted to hide away, but the cabin knew just as well as she did that the crone couldn't stay locked away forever. So, soon it did the only thing it knew how; it dumped its mistress out and walked away, taking itself to some other place and leaving her there on Dracula's lawn in little more than a black shift.

She sat there and stared, realizing the sun still shone brightly and the people still did as they did - lived. This angered her again, pulling her from the sadness and loss. She needed to make someone else hurt.

Rising to her feet, Baba Yaga started to walk with one thing in mind. Causing someone else pain, confusion, and then some.


Mastering the Art of French Cooking [Leto, Threadmas]

Oswin had become something of a fixture in Leto's apartment. With the exception of conversation the dalek shell never moved, staying motionless in the living room. Despite housing a supposedly human consciousness it lacked the need to move or even fidget. And in the dead of night, the dalek was an uneasy presence with only dim ambient light to outline its existence.

It was easy to wonder what Oswin did all day, and it was easy to forget that the classical music that frequently played in the apartment wasn't the radio being left idly on, but her own broadcast. It wasn't constant and it was hard to say if she realized she was even doing it.

To Oswin, there was plenty to do inside her imagined shuttle. She cooked. She cleaned. She decorated. She reinforced the door almost daily. There was ritual to keep her sane, or insane depending upon your perspective, and it was sometimes very time consuming. Every so often she would peer over at her view screen, particularly when Leto was in view. But given their circumstances they were less roommates and more long distance video pen pals.

She never followed him into his room or around the apartment. Oswin was just simply there. Some day, she realized, that wasn't going to be enough.

It was mid-afternoon and completing much of her daily ritual, Oswin started to prepare her kitchenette for another souffle attempt.

"EGG... STIR..."

That was strange to hear the cold, robotic voice of the dalek. Whenever possible Oswin preferred to broadcast her own human voice through the appliances in Leto's apartment.

“Sorry," she called out. "I must have pressed the wrong button.”