It took her time to peel herself off of the bed. Ramsay had long since left. Where he went, Sansa didn't ask. She knew he'd left, and that he would return in time. Every time he left she prayed he would never return, but so far the gods had been far from kind. It was almost as if they took delight in seeing her in pain.
She knew Ramsay certainly did.
It was terrible- everyone here knew what he was like. What he did. And yet he carried on in public as though he loved his young wife. It was a cruel game, as everything was to him. But she would not die here- she was Sansa Stark of Winterfell and this was her home. She would survive, find strength in the cold that ran in her blood. But it was hard to always remember that, when her body felt broken, her soul so weary.
Assuming she was alone in the room, Sansa's long, elegant fingers pulled on the sheets, her pale legs, crossed at the ankles, brought up to her chest. It was then she began to weep.
"Isobel said she'd babysit tonight -- overnight -- if we wanted to go out or something," Michael says as he comes out from the nursery that they'd set up in the homestead. They'd officially moved into a while ago and it was still taking some used to to realize that he really had a home. He had a family of his own.
Truth be told, it was something Poe was still marveling over as well, the one thing he thought he'd never have, and while it was... not exactly what he'd been expecting, he wasn't going to complain because it was better. The nursery was in what had been his old room, and they hadn't done much redecorating, in that all his model ships were still hanging from the ceiling, and really all they'd done was take down the posters and replace the wallpaper border around the center of the walls with something more kid-friendly, in this case cartoon animals in many different cartoon vehicles.
"Well if that's your way of saying we should head across the border and get a hotel room for the night, I'm in." His smile spread, "But if you're saying we should just go get dinner and maybe a movie and be back before dawn, I'm good with that too."
Gar has been moping since the disastrous conversation with Teddy. Even if he generally acted like himself it's hard to hide completely when you live in close quarters with people. And Dawn? She's good at noticing that sort of thing even though Gar generally refused to talk about it. The fact that it was about his boyfriend had ended up being confessed. She would have figured it out anyway since he generally talked to and about Teddy a lot and suddenly he hasn't been.
But Gar's got no suspicions when she drags him out of the tower and out to the park he sometimes hung out in. She sat him down on a bench with some line about him needing to stop hiding or something.
At least someone had fed him a line. Teddy? Teddy had followed Billy. 'We may not be dating but I still know how to cheer you up'. That had been Billy's argument. That they should go to his favorite ice cream stand.
He even has an ice cream in hand when Billy says hold on, he had a call from his parents and walked away. That had been five minutes ago, with Teddy licking his ice cream. And eventually he had started to wander to try and find a bench. The nearest one... happened to be occupied by Gar.
And that's when he realizes it was going on. A set up.
Everything was starting to fall into place finally. TK gripped Carlos’ hand and looked back up at the sky from their lounged position on the others car. It was beautiful after a whole lot of crazy. The fresh stitches were holding up and he finally felt like other parts of him could start to heal as well.
This was everywhere he wanted to be. Austin, 129, Carlos. All of it.
Squeezing the other mans hand he smiled and rolled his head to the side to look over his face again. Maybe part of him felt like he didn’t deserve Carlos. Maybe he was scared. But he’d learned that they worked really well together and despite all of his short comings, Carlos was still there. Still giving him chance after chance.
“Hey,” he gave the others hand a little tug, “You’re amazing, you know that?”
It's a bit crazy really. They'd gone from very nearly putting an end to whatever had been between them to this in the span of ...hours. There's a tiny part of Carlos that's expecting TK to pull away at some point, close himself off again and he desperately does not want that to happen. He still didn't put a name to all those big feelings he'd had when he saw TK in the hospital but this is better than TK walking away, leaving Texas altogether even. They're a good team and Carlos is glad he's not losing that.
Carlos grins, his head tilting and his eyes moving back to TK. They kept wandering over to him despite the magical sky above them -- the once in a lifetime view but it still didn't hold a candle to TK.
"Yeah, I do," Carlos responds, a short laugh with it that ebbs away before he adds, "You're the one that's amazing, TK."
Jibril has started to get used to Rhy, the luxury that came with him. It's all still a bit overwhelming and he doesn't feel like he belongs. Things between him and Rhy seemed to be shifting. There were touches that made Jibril's skin tingle, looks that stir something in him and he feels a longing. It's a terrifying one.
When wine had been suggested Jibril had hesitated at first. He's never drank before. It's a new experience and it didn't take much for him to start feeling the effects of the wine, getting tipsy off a small amount.
"Yes, because it is an experience you have not partaken of before. Wine is beautiful. It... Loosens everything in you. And warms. Though that is only because of how it affects the blood," Rhy answers, smiling as the man.
New Orleans was considered one of the best cities around. So much to do during the day. Then, well, there was the nightlife. Night life that no one truly knew much about. If only because that life brought out those that stayed hidden during the day. Not that all of them needed to. Some just preferred it.
Klaus leaves one of the bars and his eyes narrow slightly, hearing familiar footsteps and a scent that hadn't hit his senses in a very long time. It made him wonder why it was hitting him now. However, it didn't mean that he was going off to find it. If the scent belonged to someone familiar, they could come find him. Until then, he had every intention of going off to find a bite.
It'd been a few years since the last time Jackson had crossed paths with Klaus. Things had been hot and cold then and yet he was still seeking out Klaus again. There's trouble in the Bayou and the well -- no one really knew what JD was just that he wasn't a normal human. He'd been useful in a few situations but for now he needed to lay low somewhere safe.
Klaus isn't the epitome of safe but in this instance he's the best option that Jackson can think of.
"Couyon," he calls out, it wouldn't be hard for Klaus to recognize the voice or the complicated insult and term of affection.
It's been a few months since Tommy had moved into the Doom Manor with him. In recent days he'd started withdrawing. Gar had had a merciless libido and that hadn't exactly stopped and there's no way that Tommy didn't know that. But Gar had been making excuses to not have sex with Tommy even though his body craved his mate.
Today he's standing in the bathroom, staring at the mirror. His hands stroke the stomach, now showing. He couldn't help himself in feeling like he wasn't attractive anymore. He knows he shouldn't think like that that Tommy would be upset with him but the thought still remained. He's lost in thought and if Tommy comes in he wont't initially react.
He's definitely been noticing things. And it makes him uncomfortable. Not that he acts the way he had last time. Instead he stays there, trying to enjoy their time. Trying to enjoy all of this. But now, now he can't deal with it. He can smell the lust and desire. And the inactivity.
At last he approaches and Gar and comes up behind him in the bathroom, his arms wrapping around the guy and stroking his stomach.
The English had always whispered about the skinchangers among the Norse. The English used the word "werewulf" to describe it, though the Norse had always called such people "varúlfur" or " ulfhéðinn", which meant 'one in wolf-skin.' No matter what the name, people were terrified of the Norse who could shapeshift, whispering in the dark about how they would turn into massive wolves or bears to tear out throats on the battlefield or eat people alive in their homes.
Ivar was a born werewolf from a long line of werewolves. It was a dominant trait that popped up in all of Ragnar's sons. His legs weren't healed in the form, though were a bit stronger as the healing facor in his body continuously tried to repair the damage, rendering him lame rather then completely unable to walk. He was utterly vicious as wolf, beautiful to look and just as certain to tear the arm off someone in a fight.
When he'd captured Heahmund, he was captivated by the man. All he wanted was to make sure he'd stay forever. So of course to satisfy his selfish desire Ivar had bitten and turned the man. Being an Alpha wolf, it gave him direct control over Heahmund. Now unable to return to the side of the English, the bishop was forever bound to Ivar's will. Ivar was sitting with him, for he'd been giving him the silent treatment ever since he'd bitten him.
His tone was coaxing and wheedling. "Come now. You're going to have to learn how to control your wolf form from me. None of my men will bother teaching you and you'll transform whether you like it or not when the next full moon comes around."
Alfred had been busking. One thing about being the bastard son is that he did not have a public profile at all. He is officially recognized as legitimate but everyone knows better but few knew what he looks like. He had been sickly most of his life and his mother had been overprotective and most of his time had been spent with his grandfather.
He had no interest in the royal court or anything that would have been considered his duties. To everyone's chagrin he had shunned them. He'd traveled away from England to mainland Europe, settled in Oslo for the time being.
That's where he'd met Ivar. Initially he hadn't known who Ivar was. They'd met when Ivar had stopped to listen to him playing. It'd been a freezing day and Ivar had invited him to his place for something warm to drink and Alfred hadn't been able to refuse. His fingers were getting painful as he would strum his guitars with the chill in the air.
He didn't have to busk but he didn't want his families money and he had been living off what he made -- which was enough.
Now they'd been seeing each other regularly. Alfred half moved into Ivar's with how frequently he stayed over since his own small efficiency studio was not condusive to Ivar's needs.
This morning he's awakened by Ivar angrily talking on the phone. It's not hard to figure out he's the topic of conversation and he frowns, listening to the argument. He can hear both sides of the conversation but he stays still and quiet so Ivar believes that he is still asleep or at least he'd hope as much.
It had been a long night for Josh. Too long. Too many vampires with their own political agendas arguing over everything and nothing at all. Then there was the humans that they’d brought in to feed on— the ones they weren’t supposed to kill, until everything went wonky. By the end of the night, blood covered the walls, the floors, the tables, and even the liquor display. It was all supposed to be a simple bachelor party. Josh should have known better when invited by Klaus.
Either way, he’s happy to be home. Home where Aiden is sleeping, and he’s met with the feelings of warmth and happiness. There’s no death here. There’s life and vitality all ensconced in the man currently laying mostly naked (or is that fully naked) on their bed, snoring quietly.
After a quick shower, Josh climbs beneath the covers and moves over to try and draw Aiden around him without waking the sleeping werewolf
Aiden does happen to still be wearing his boxers. He starts to wake when the other comes in but not fully. The sound of the shower continues to play at the edges of consciousness but it's not until Josh presses close, so carefully that Josh is awake.
It's almost easy for Gar to forget how difficult it had been bringing Rita into the world, a hard pregnancy, those first few months terrifying for both him and Tommy he's sure. Such a small, fragile thing and it felt like one wrong move and they would break the center of their universe. Gar's still scared sometimes, anytime the smallest thing goes wrong his heart leaps into his throat.
But today, the sun is shining as they celebrate Rita's first birthday at a park that had a splash pad for small children. There's also a picnic set up and Gar might or might not have (he totally did) invited Billy and Teddy to show up later to make it a full family affair but first it is time just for the three of them to enjoy this.
"Pretty sure she's not going to want to get into the water once she gets in," Gar says, Rita on his hip in her little bathing suit and water shoes, sunscreen dutifully applied and a timer set for when it should be reapplied.
It's amazing how much someone grows up in a year and a half. Or however long it had been since he'd found Gar and forced his mate to tell him why he'd run away. But when the people you loved required more of you, sometimes you stepped up. Tommy definitely had. The guy that had been as sassy and sometimes assholeish hero a year and a half ago was older, stronger, more confident and controlled now. It came with helping his lover through the pregnancy, with getting up late to deal with diapers and feedings, and with every moment of wonder as their little girl grew up.
As for Tommy, he's definitely standing behind his mate, kissing his neck lightly.
"Or maybe our little Bitty Ritty is going to love it. She's her papa's little tiger cub, and don't they love the water?"
It's a couple days after Rita's birthday and Gar and Tommy are laying in bed after getting her down to sleep. His fingers were interlaced with Tommy's as he glances over at him.
Blake had finished a rather good if not slightly tipsy rendition of some classic musical song that had been in the karaoke catalogue. He's pleased with the performance and always rather enjoys singing for people -- and he's good at it so that's a bonus. It's probably the most relaxing thing that he does and one of the few activities that he allows himself time for now and then outside of work.
He makes his way off the stage and toward the bar to get a new drink while his friends... coworkers... waited in a table off to the side. This particular bar was frequented often by government employees and tended to be an off-limits zone for partisan things and most things that happened in the bar stayed in the bar so he felt relaxed and not quite as on guard as he tended to be in public.
"A white russian," he ordered when the bartender turned his attention onto him.
It wasn't often that he came away from the office, or his rarely used apartment, to enjoy a bar. In fact, this was a once in a lifetime sort of situation, if only because Reeve didn't even know there was a karaoke night here at his favorite but rarely visited bar.
The number, not one he was familiar with, was still performed very well, so when the individual performing ended up at his elbow, ordering a drink... Well, Reeve noticed. And noticed, as he had before, how strangely familiar the man himself was. Not that he could place the name or why. So instead he turned to the bartender and nodded briefly to get his attention.
"Put it on my tab. A man should be rewarded for a good performance."
Imladris is a place where all are welcome, even those most outcast. There are Avari, wild and wary in the woods of the Valley, distrustful of the visitors of other races who come traipsing through, Green Elves and Silvan from drowned Ossiriand, singing silly songs and laughing at everything and everyone, and Sindar who remember Doriath, old and dangerous. But most of the guard and the craftsmen are fire-eyed Noldor, both the kinslaying veterans from the very earliest wars of Beleriand and survivors of Eregion who were born in Middle-earth.
And amogst those fire-eyed Noldor is one who seems ignored by almost everyone, sitting in a quiet corner of the House, drawing tunes from his harp that might make stone weep or the birds sing. He lifts his head as Boromir walks into the room and blinks at him.
Boromir hadn't in fact been looking for anything in particular. He feels tired and not much else but the music had drawn his attention which might have been cause for him being questioned by the other. He shakes his head and well it's too late to avert his gaze now.
Maps. Maps will be useful for the quest. And where else to find maps but in the Great Library of Imladris? Erestor lifts his head as Merry walks into the Library from where he was bent over a scroll, frowing.
Merry clearly hadn't thought his plan through very deeply as he definitely didn't expect anyone else to be in the library. He stopped short as if caught doing something he shouldn't be doing -- which is what it felt like often enough here and often enough he was doing something he probably strictly shouldn't be.
all his siblings have, really. the little blue marble. seventy-one percent water. 40 075 km circumference. 152 million kms from their little yellow star. bipedals. they'd been warbling radio frequencies out into the black for a while now. constant says they're annoying, and he has a tendency to roll his eyes in exasperation whenever he hears something new about them. therea is charmed. she says they're so much like their parent species, several million years removed. they're still in the warring and killing everyone over differences of opinion stage. it'll pass. they crawled out of the primordial muck in the blink of an eye, they'll either war themselves to extinction or peaceable co-existence sooner or later.
rev really hopes it's sooner. he wants to meet them!
the ch'tat never got the chance, but humanity had always been on their docket. there'd been plans to send ships one day, when they were old and wise enough to understand they came in peace.
rev tells constant he's going. constant calls him an idiot. it's pretty much par for the course (a human expression! he loves human television it's the bomb). but the thing is, the ch'tat wanted them to explore. they weren't made to sit around on ng'tati and wait for their bio-components to turn to mush. they're supposed to go out, peaceful ambassadors to the universe. they're supposed to pass on the messages of love and knowledge that their parent species wanted to share.
constant stays. ethereal dream thinks about it, but ultimately decides that her heart doesn't lie with humanity. she has her eye on another species, the wenhazai, and her podship still needs to be rebuilt.
the other siblings listen to constant. rev shrugs, loads a copy of his consciousness up to the central spire just in case, and goes.
lightspeed's for species that haven't figured out the conflection. folding space is easy once you've got the right math, and boom, he's at earth's doorstep.
thing is.
he gets all the best earth channels, watches all the best earth tv. (netflix! so good) but he's still about six months behind, broadcast wise. they don't bother using the conflection for broadcasts, there's no point. so he's kinda behind on their news. (something about killer bees?)
so he absolutely does not expect to arrive in the middle of a (excusez mon français, mais... ) fucking apocalypse.
(holy fuck, are those zombies?)
rev's not the combat model that dire symphony is, but he still knows how to fight. and as it turns out, zombie teeth break on the synthetic skin of his human form. since he's only ever fought with his siblings (well, sparred more than fought) and they're plenty capable of damaging each other, this is actually pretty good news!
he tries reasoning with the first group. cycling through the main languages of earth — mandarin, spanish, hindi — no? and then once he realizes that they're just reanimated automatons he puts them all out of their misery.
then he starts the hunt for survivors.
he can already hear constant telling him he shouldn't interfere. that there's no point. if this is the end for the species, then it's the end. but they outlived their parent species and did nothing, and rev isn't about to let it happen to anyone else if he can help it.
he finds himself in an abandoned — school? yeah, he thinks it's a school, and ducking into the gymnasium he calls out (in english now! he's learned the majority demographic here) )
Hey, anyone alive in here?
( why does he sound a little bit texan? your guess is anyone's bet, but it's probably due to the amount of cowboy movies he watched on ng'tati. )
[ Of the people that you would think might survive the zombie apocalypse's first wave -- you might not picture a forensic pathologist in training and yet, here is Simon Van Reyk and you're in Australia Rev -- why must you have a Texan accent? That's just going to get you teased at some point. Especially since the majority of the world had blamed America for it, because -- obviously.
Simon steps out in a t-shirt and jeans. He usually would have been in a button up and slacks before all this but well, apocalypses do tend to affect your fashion.
He's holding an axe that's got bits of zombie brains on it still and blood has spattered over him. He raises the axe tiredly as he appraises the stranger. There's a small group of survivors he's stayed close to and this guy isn't one of them. ]
The storm came out of literally nowhere, without a hint on the radar or any shift in the weather. But the windows of the building shake with the force of it and then the current sparks along surfaces, as if seeking a place to ground. A brilliant flash finally almost whites out the vicinity of a nearby alley, setting off car alarms and shorting out streetlights, even as something seems to move.
There's a figure among the garbage, and at first glance, he seems to be in pretty bad shape, clothing shredded and bloody, not even intact enough to be really decent anymore. Bart spends those first few moments trying to remember how to breathe, and it doesn't occur to him what happened, or where he is, or even that he might not even be alone. Shifting ever so slightly, it's obvious now that the few visible injuries are closing up with incredible speed, leaving unblemished skin, but that doesn't change the confused expression on the teenager's face as holds up a hand, considering it.
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I said something about fluffy comforty escapism shippy something didn't I?
It took her time to peel herself off of the bed. Ramsay had long since left. Where he went, Sansa didn't ask. She knew he'd left, and that he would return in time. Every time he left she prayed he would never return, but so far the gods had been far from kind. It was almost as if they took delight in seeing her in pain.
She knew Ramsay certainly did.
It was terrible- everyone here knew what he was like. What he did. And yet he carried on in public as though he loved his young wife. It was a cruel game, as everything was to him. But she would not die here- she was Sansa Stark of Winterfell and this was her home. She would survive, find strength in the cold that ran in her blood. But it was hard to always remember that, when her body felt broken, her soul so weary.
Assuming she was alone in the room, Sansa's long, elegant fingers pulled on the sheets, her pale legs, crossed at the ankles, brought up to her chest. It was then she began to weep.
For Poe
"What do you think?"
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"Well if that's your way of saying we should head across the border and get a hotel room for the night, I'm in." His smile spread, "But if you're saying we should just go get dinner and maybe a movie and be back before dawn, I'm good with that too."
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do you wanna scooch it forward to them actually being away? XD
LOL was gonna ask you the same /rolls on ahead
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For Teddy
But Gar's got no suspicions when she drags him out of the tower and out to the park he sometimes hung out in. She sat him down on a bench with some line about him needing to stop hiding or something.
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He even has an ice cream in hand when Billy says hold on, he had a call from his parents and walked away. That had been five minutes ago, with Teddy licking his ice cream. And eventually he had started to wander to try and find a bench. The nearest one... happened to be occupied by Gar.
And that's when he realizes it was going on. A set up.
Dammit.
"Gar."
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As Requested!
This was everywhere he wanted to be. Austin, 129, Carlos. All of it.
Squeezing the other mans hand he smiled and rolled his head to the side to look over his face again. Maybe part of him felt like he didn’t deserve Carlos. Maybe he was scared. But he’d learned that they worked really well together and despite all of his short comings, Carlos was still there. Still giving him chance after chance.
“Hey,” he gave the others hand a little tug, “You’re amazing, you know that?”
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Carlos grins, his head tilting and his eyes moving back to TK. They kept wandering over to him despite the magical sky above them -- the once in a lifetime view but it still didn't hold a candle to TK.
"Yeah, I do," Carlos responds, a short laugh with it that ebbs away before he adds, "You're the one that's amazing, TK."
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For Rhy
When wine had been suggested Jibril had hesitated at first. He's never drank before. It's a new experience and it didn't take much for him to start feeling the effects of the wine, getting tipsy off a small amount.
"This feels strange."
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Surprise Me, darlin'
Klaus leaves one of the bars and his eyes narrow slightly, hearing familiar footsteps and a scent that hadn't hit his senses in a very long time. It made him wonder why it was hitting him now. However, it didn't mean that he was going off to find it. If the scent belonged to someone familiar, they could come find him. Until then, he had every intention of going off to find a bite.
Really surprises you - idek
Klaus isn't the epitome of safe but in this instance he's the best option that Jackson can think of.
"Couyon," he calls out, it wouldn't be hard for Klaus to recognize the voice or the complicated insult and term of affection.
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Fooooor Tommy
Today he's standing in the bathroom, staring at the mirror. His hands stroke the stomach, now showing. He couldn't help himself in feeling like he wasn't attractive anymore. He knows he shouldn't think like that that Tommy would be upset with him but the thought still remained. He's lost in thought and if Tommy comes in he wont't initially react.
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At last he approaches and Gar and comes up behind him in the bathroom, his arms wrapping around the guy and stroking his stomach.
"This is sexy too, you know."
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cool to ftb? i have to close out some threads
For Heahmund - Werewolf AU
Ivar was a born werewolf from a long line of werewolves. It was a dominant trait that popped up in all of Ragnar's sons. His legs weren't healed in the form, though were a bit stronger as the healing facor in his body continuously tried to repair the damage, rendering him lame rather then completely unable to walk. He was utterly vicious as wolf, beautiful to look and just as certain to tear the arm off someone in a fight.
When he'd captured Heahmund, he was captivated by the man. All he wanted was to make sure he'd stay forever. So of course to satisfy his selfish desire Ivar had bitten and turned the man. Being an Alpha wolf, it gave him direct control over Heahmund. Now unable to return to the side of the English, the bishop was forever bound to Ivar's will. Ivar was sitting with him, for he'd been giving him the silent treatment ever since he'd bitten him.
His tone was coaxing and wheedling. "Come now. You're going to have to learn how to control your wolf form from me. None of my men will bother teaching you and you'll transform whether you like it or not when the next full moon comes around."
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He had no interest in the royal court or anything that would have been considered his duties. To everyone's chagrin he had shunned them. He'd traveled away from England to mainland Europe, settled in Oslo for the time being.
That's where he'd met Ivar. Initially he hadn't known who Ivar was. They'd met when Ivar had stopped to listen to him playing. It'd been a freezing day and Ivar had invited him to his place for something warm to drink and Alfred hadn't been able to refuse. His fingers were getting painful as he would strum his guitars with the chill in the air.
He didn't have to busk but he didn't want his families money and he had been living off what he made -- which was enough.
Now they'd been seeing each other regularly. Alfred half moved into Ivar's with how frequently he stayed over since his own small efficiency studio was not condusive to Ivar's needs.
This morning he's awakened by Ivar angrily talking on the phone. It's not hard to figure out he's the topic of conversation and he frowns, listening to the argument. He can hear both sides of the conversation but he stays still and quiet so Ivar believes that he is still asleep or at least he'd hope as much.
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Either way, he’s happy to be home. Home where Aiden is sleeping, and he’s met with the feelings of warmth and happiness. There’s no death here. There’s life and vitality all ensconced in the man currently laying mostly naked (or is that fully naked) on their bed, snoring quietly.
After a quick shower, Josh climbs beneath the covers and moves over to try and draw Aiden around him without waking the sleeping werewolf
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"Mm.. you're home," Aiden murmured.
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But today, the sun is shining as they celebrate Rita's first birthday at a park that had a splash pad for small children. There's also a picnic set up and Gar might or might not have (he totally did) invited Billy and Teddy to show up later to make it a full family affair but first it is time just for the three of them to enjoy this.
"Pretty sure she's not going to want to get into the water once she gets in," Gar says, Rita on his hip in her little bathing suit and water shoes, sunscreen dutifully applied and a timer set for when it should be reapplied.
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As for Tommy, he's definitely standing behind his mate, kissing his neck lightly.
"Or maybe our little Bitty Ritty is going to love it. She's her papa's little tiger cub, and don't they love the water?"
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this one might be good to wrap up too
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"Do you really want another one already?"
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He makes his way off the stage and toward the bar to get a new drink while his friends... coworkers... waited in a table off to the side. This particular bar was frequented often by government employees and tended to be an off-limits zone for partisan things and most things that happened in the bar stayed in the bar so he felt relaxed and not quite as on guard as he tended to be in public.
"A white russian," he ordered when the bartender turned his attention onto him.
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The number, not one he was familiar with, was still performed very well, so when the individual performing ended up at his elbow, ordering a drink... Well, Reeve noticed. And noticed, as he had before, how strangely familiar the man himself was. Not that he could place the name or why. So instead he turned to the bartender and nodded briefly to get his attention.
"Put it on my tab. A man should be rewarded for a good performance."
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mmm yes i remember this beautiful man
I couldn't think of anyone else so Boromir can have the original Emo Elf
And amogst those fire-eyed Noldor is one who seems ignored by almost everyone, sitting in a quiet corner of the House, drawing tunes from his harp that might make stone weep or the birds sing. He lifts his head as Boromir walks into the room and blinks at him.
"Are you looking for something, my lord?"
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"No, I was merely listening."
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And here's Erestor, as promised!
"Yes?"
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"Uhm. I was just looking..."
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all his siblings have, really. the little blue marble. seventy-one percent water. 40 075 km circumference. 152 million kms from their little yellow star. bipedals. they'd been warbling radio frequencies out into the black for a while now. constant says they're annoying, and he has a tendency to roll his eyes in exasperation whenever he hears something new about them. therea is charmed. she says they're so much like their parent species, several million years removed. they're still in the warring and killing everyone over differences of opinion stage. it'll pass. they crawled out of the primordial muck in the blink of an eye, they'll either war themselves to extinction or peaceable co-existence sooner or later.
rev really hopes it's sooner. he wants to meet them!
the ch'tat never got the chance, but humanity had always been on their docket. there'd been plans to send ships one day, when they were old and wise enough to understand they came in peace.
rev tells constant he's going. constant calls him an idiot. it's pretty much par for the course (a human expression! he loves human television it's the bomb). but the thing is, the ch'tat wanted them to explore. they weren't made to sit around on ng'tati and wait for their bio-components to turn to mush. they're supposed to go out, peaceful ambassadors to the universe. they're supposed to pass on the messages of love and knowledge that their parent species wanted to share.
constant stays. ethereal dream thinks about it, but ultimately decides that her heart doesn't lie with humanity. she has her eye on another species, the wenhazai, and her podship still needs to be rebuilt.
the other siblings listen to constant. rev shrugs, loads a copy of his consciousness up to the central spire just in case, and goes.
lightspeed's for species that haven't figured out the conflection. folding space is easy once you've got the right math, and boom, he's at earth's doorstep.
thing is.
he gets all the best earth channels, watches all the best earth tv. (netflix! so good) but he's still about six months behind, broadcast wise. they don't bother using the conflection for broadcasts, there's no point. so he's kinda behind on their news. (something about killer bees?)
so he absolutely does not expect to arrive in the middle of a (excusez mon français, mais... ) fucking apocalypse.
(holy fuck, are those zombies?)
rev's not the combat model that dire symphony is, but he still knows how to fight. and as it turns out, zombie teeth break on the synthetic skin of his human form. since he's only ever fought with his siblings (well, sparred more than fought) and they're plenty capable of damaging each other, this is actually pretty good news!
he tries reasoning with the first group. cycling through the main languages of earth — mandarin, spanish, hindi — no? and then once he realizes that they're just reanimated automatons he puts them all out of their misery.
then he starts the hunt for survivors.
he can already hear constant telling him he shouldn't interfere. that there's no point. if this is the end for the species, then it's the end. but they outlived their parent species and did nothing, and rev isn't about to let it happen to anyone else if he can help it.
he finds himself in an abandoned — school? yeah, he thinks it's a school, and ducking into the gymnasium he calls out (in english now! he's learned the majority demographic here) )
Hey, anyone alive in here?
( why does he sound a little bit texan? your guess is anyone's bet, but it's probably due to the amount of cowboy movies he watched on ng'tati. )
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Simon steps out in a t-shirt and jeans. He usually would have been in a button up and slacks before all this but well, apocalypses do tend to affect your fashion.
He's holding an axe that's got bits of zombie brains on it still and blood has spattered over him. He raises the axe tiredly as he appraises the stranger. There's a small group of survivors he's stayed close to and this guy isn't one of them. ]
Who are you?
For Gar
There's a figure among the garbage, and at first glance, he seems to be in pretty bad shape, clothing shredded and bloody, not even intact enough to be really decent anymore. Bart spends those first few moments trying to remember how to breathe, and it doesn't occur to him what happened, or where he is, or even that he might not even be alone. Shifting ever so slightly, it's obvious now that the few visible injuries are closing up with incredible speed, leaving unblemished skin, but that doesn't change the confused expression on the teenager's face as holds up a hand, considering it.