▌│█║▌║▌║ open post ║▌║▌║█│▌

[gidge]

PICK YOUR POISON
PIC PROMPTS / TFLN / RANDOM SCENARIO
HAN SOLO velocities	BETTY MCRAE bombsheller	RIVER TAM subsulcus	RIVER TAM (AU) comprehender
SIMON TAM vest	BRIA THAREN exulted	NADINE CROSS bridaled	GU JUN-PYO toddler
available on special request: veronica sawyer, benjamin linus, imani, maria deluca, mushu, poseidon, niccolò machiavelli, malik al-sayf, chloe

Comments

copies tami

[boarheaded]

[subsulcus]

Nothing about this could be called a good idea.

The heist itself was simple enough. Prize money from an Alliance sponsored festival on Valentine -- easily replaced, to save the local government from embarrassment, so even the winners wouldn't realize what had happened. River and the new boy were supposed to wait in the crowd for a signal, then help split the goods between them and hide it away before leaving completely inconspicuously.

Except this festival was some old tradition, steeped in some half-remembered lore from Earth-that-Was about couples and hearts.

It starts simple enough. Crowds are still a lot to take in, and someone tries to pull River into some game of pairing up strangers when she latches onto Hiccups hand and gets a reply of, "Sorry, didn't know you was spoken for." Then they're shuffled through the sea of faces and pink streamers, River still holding his hand like a lifeline, getting comments about their couplehood.

Denying it at this point is only going to get them separated and off course, so.

Yeah, that's happening.

post-endgame! s-s-s-poilers

[jansport]

The people who died when Thanos snapped his fingers, five years and a timeline ago, return. The world doesn't change; all the living still remember what happened. Peter can't forget that, not in the way his aunt watches him when she thinks he's not looking, not in the way her fingers linger when she ruffles his hair like she's almost forgotten how. New things in their home he doesn't recognize, has to get used to, new neighbors, accommodations at school for those who'd been lost.

Except. The world does change.

The Black Widow is dead, for one thing. Thor leaves earth, unclear if he'll ever return. And Tony Stark had -- had a real nice funeral, small and private, and that's. What people tell him, anyway, what the news reports say. Because it's all the same, isn't it? A blur of black clothes, softly spoken condolences, the profound sense of loss. Peter meets Morgan for the first time, small and quiet and shy in ways he achingly remembers being. He'd been around that age, too, the first time.

("I know Spider-Man," she tells him solemnly. "He's one of my bedtime stories.")

Here's a fact: people want to know how he is, and how he's doing, and how he's holding up --

Queens needs Spider-Man. There is so much crime in New York City, guys, and people are scared, and looking at the suit hurts but saving people feels right, feels good --

Jessica doesn't ask him any of these things. And Jessica is, at least, alive -- has been, and he knows it had to have been horrible for her but he's still relieved.

The lock on her door is broken, so he doesn't have to knock to let himself in, calls a, "Ms. Jones?" by way of welcome as he goes looking for his graphing calculator. It's....somewhere, here, probably? He could've lost it literally anywhere in Queens, but here's hoping.

still haven't seen it so if i fuck something up lmk

[steerclear]

Five years is a long time.

Jessica has spent a not inconsiderable time of it with May. At first, running upstate in the chaos, avoiding as much danger as they could. Then, going back into the city to spend months, years, waiting for something. Oscar and Vido moved out of the building, out of the city, and May would insist on dinners. Calls. Some semblance of regular contact, the veneer of normalcy.

She went out into the neighborhood. Into Queens. She wasn't a hero, but while Peter was gone she was a something.

And then everything was back, and nothing was normal but it was overwhelmingly there.

(There hadn't been a funeral for her own family. Just boxes of ashes. She tries not to think about it.)

The lock on her door is in a kind of Schrodinger situation: you never know if it actually fucking works until you try it. More often than not, lately, it's been broken, and Jess can't give enough fucks to get it fixed.

"What'd you forget this time?" It's yelled from the kitchen -- she's actually going to cook and eat a food, what a miracle -- before she pops her head out to glare at him.

[vest]

The rift is not always... Kind.

When Simon finally gets to Chicago, he's from further ahead than River. He knows more, knows Miranda, and there's a few days at first that are especially difficult to get through. The strangest part of it, though, beyond being on Earth-that-was in some kind of pocket dimension surrounded by a barrier and zombies and chaos demons, is that he has help. There are people here who know River, that have helped her even without him standing in as her advocate. No one has threatened to shoot or abandon them because of what she is or who they are. There is no Alliance waiting at the edges of the city to take her away.

It's a little eerie, considering past experience, but not unwelcome.

Eventually, after being all but glued to his sister's side for nearly a week, he goes for a walk. Without River. Another strange thing he'll have to get used to -- time to himself without having to worry that River is safe, and isn't confined to the space of a single Firefly-class ship.

The last time he was in a bar, his sister had beaten all the patrons and pointed a gun at Mal. Thankfully, the Crowbar is nothing like the Maidenhead, and Simon is able to go up to the bar and order a drink.

Seeing a young boy sitting there with his own would, under most other circumstances, be shocking. But it's been a wild week, and River has spent a lot of time between bouts of instability to tell him all about Chicago's residents.

"Oh," said after a moment of just... Awkwardly looking over at Five. "I apologize. You must be Five. River mentioned you."

He has manners enough to not say she'd mentioned him as a being a boy with an old man inside him, because seeing it now makes that phrasing far less alarming than it had been.

[fogey]

Five, for his part, barely looks up from his drink.

"And you are?"

HALLOWEEN

[areius]

So you dress up in costumes, and you go to strangers' homes and ask for candy? Can you not buy candy for yourself?

[ this is a weird tradition ya got there steve

what are they even doing maybe killing time while waiting for some weird monster shit bc this is hawkins ]

thanks satan for comment 666 forever remembered

[anidiot]

[ how did this happen? why is this happening? who knows. ]

Look, that's not-- That's not the point, okay? It's fun. And then the candy is free.

[ which makes it better. scientific fact. ]

waves hands mashes canons

[quixano]

The Alliance reaches out to James Holden for help capturing a couple of dangerous criminals.

Why they expect him to do their dirty work is a great question, because the whole job reeks of bullshit. And the Rocinante doesn't answer to anyone; they don't bow to Tycho Station, they don't bow to Earth or Mars, and they definitely don't bow to the Alliance. But Naomi finds evidence that these "criminals" have ties to a top-secret government program, which is never a good thing, and they need to rule out the possibility that the protomolecule is involved.

So, finding Simon and River Tam it is.

They end up finding a Firefly-class spaceship crewed by a group just as ferociously loyal as theirs, and there are mishaps, but Holden insists that they just want to talk.

So, finally, they get to talk.

[vest]

River is the one that had managed to, eventually, communicate that Holden and his crew weren't the threat everyone assumed they were. Took a bit of shouting, and some insistent pulling on Mal's coat before he started shooting, but, you know.

No one is dead.

Still tense, and Simon especially doesn't like any single part of this. Mal has Holden separated from the rest of his own crew, waiting inside one of the unoccupied passenger rooms. Technically, Simon isn't supposed to be the one that goes in there. Both Mal and Zoe were pretty clear on that front (Mal with a stern order, and Zoe with a glare).

"You said you wanted to talk."

He slips into the room easy enough, slides the door closed behind him. Tries to loom, but its Simon and looming is difficult when the other person isn't on the bed in the infirmary.

"Let's talk."

cw: cancer for this whole thread

[quixano]

[quixano]

Simon insists on regular check-ups.

Which he probably should've anticipated, since Simon is a doctor, and that is standard procedure. But none of them have seen a real doctor in...a while, for Holden and Alex, and possibly not ever, for Amos or Naomi. The poor guy is startled when he gets to Holden, and they have to have a conversation about Eros and 50 times the lethal limit of radiation and lifelong treatment plan. Holden doesn't, honestly, think much of it; he's had some time to get used to the idea, and with the more immediate concerns of his crew and protomolecule-related crises, it's easy to justify backburnering his health.

What comes as a surprise, then, is when Simon calls him back to the med bay for what he calls an important follow-up.

crazy au time

[camlan]

"It was out here."

They're trekking through the woods, out past the usual patrol boundaries. Bellamy doesn't sleep much after Mount Weather -- after the battle at their settlement, after coming down to the ground, after losing his mother and Octavia in one fell swoop -- and he'd gone out into uncharted territory. Kane would tell him to be careful, probably, but what Kane doesn't know can't hurt him.

[throudon]

"Uh-huh."

At this point, Octavia is just humoring him. Possibly also following him to make sure he doesn't get himself killed -- she spends her own share of time out beyond what Kane would consider the safety perimeter, and she's never seen whatever it is that's got Bell acting like this. So, possibly also a little curious.

[outlive]

There is a baby in my apartment. What the fuck happened last night?

[steerclear]

Your issues with contraceptives aren't my fault.

[outlive]

I'll text you tomorrow when I'm not in someone's torture cave if I don't by noon call Kory

[steerclear]

Am I not supposed to question the torture cave or is that a sex thing I don't want to question?

[outlive]

because nothing says “let’s fucking rage” like getting a compensation letter and some company stock

[subsulcus]

He's never said "let's fucking rage"

[mophie]

Here's the thing.

The only reason he knows Jessica Jones is because she busted him one time (run away attempt #15, according to his social worker). That nets her absolutely no good will. But she's also an honest-to-goodness private eye, and he's in the neighborhood, and ducking into her building maybe sorta helps him avoid some people who miiiight be looking for him? It's fine, ignore the sirens.

Anyway!!

Knocking on her door.

[steerclear]

She's used to working with no good will. Sometimes the good will towards her is in the negatives. It's a thing.

But when she opens the door and sees a child, she doesn't really do anything to change it.

"Wrong door kid."

And it... Shuts. In his face. Jessica does not remember runaway child from however long ago it fucking was. The natural assumption is that he's at the wrong door, and thus not her problem.

give me whoever | idk how much sense this makes in sleep deprieved land.

[knightsaber]

[ she wasn't supposed to live through this. going into space had been a last-ditch effort to stop galatea, the only chance they had at defeating her. priss knew it would likely be the end and when the sotai's voice echoed through her mind, asking her about home, she dismissed it. home had been unreachable in the end. her hardsuit was steadily losing power and she had been drifting further and further away from the planet she called home.

there had been no going back. it was the end.

or it was supposed to be.

priss doesn't know how long she was out, where she is or how she got here, but she's alive. standing up on legs that should not be this steady in a suit that should not still have power, she takes in her surroundings. nothing familiar. nothing that would give her a clue as to where she might be. ]

Fuck.

idk but we'll make it work somehow

[acaseofyou]

[ this place is strange.

the last thing birdie remembers, before she woke up here, is the night lorelai went banshee. the screaming, the bodies, putting a stake in her sire's heart to make it stop because she couldn't bring herself to give her the final death. knowing it was only a matter of time until the prince called for a blood hunt for the both of them--

she remembers getting lorelai's corpse, stuck in torpor, to her haven just before dawn, and the usual compulsion to sleep.

waking up again after sunset was... a different place. not denver, not even any town or city she can remember visiting in all her years. small, but populated, a place that feels older than it looks. it's only been a night awake, a day asleep, keeping to herself as much as she could. there was no assurance this wasn't a trick, some new camarilla punishment, but when she'd fed the person had tasted different.

turning a corner and seeing someone standing on the sidewalk in brightly painted armor is not really helping her figure anything else out. ]

You don't belong here either, do you?

[ honestly? to hell with the masquerade at this point, and a low profile. this is too weird for even the camarilla. (which doesn't mean it isn't still kindred. the sabbat can be especially terrible, but this doesn't have the same panache for blood and cults that they style themselves with.) ]

The Politics of Denver Colorado

[terrifies]

Even though Ouija gave the impression of being a lazy housecat, they did a great deal of work behind the scenes in Vegas, primarily in facilitating alliances between the clans of the Camarilla, and interfacing with the Anarchs. Unknown to all but very close members of their own clan, Ouija was also making inroads with the local Tzimisce, but it was no real trouble to disengage for a short break.

This winter was promising. Las Vegas was a fertile land to work with, but Colorado's allure was very strong, between their genuine friendly interest in Birdie, the promise of potential revenge against a classic culprit of their embraced clan, and a change of scenery that would make the neon lights of home all the sweeter.

So they informed the Prince, gave their sincere regrets privately to their own clan, and ceremonially appointed their own understudy to the Primogen position (not a Childe of theirs, as Ouija had no Childer, but the Childe of another Follower who Ouija suspected was angling to take the Primogen seat by force if not enticed to observe, firsthand, how irritating it was to actually wade through drama and paperwork with thankless long nights). Everything had a benefit.

They stepped off the privately chartered plane with their book under one arm ("Colorado—The Bright Romance of American History by F. C. Grable"), and slung their backpack over one shoulder. There was exactly one change of clothes, an emergency phone, a metal thermos full of blood, keys, and some small innocuous tools that looked similar to dentist picks or clay sculpting things. It was very light travel. In a way it showed confidence in the Prince's ability to provide for guests, it was a risk.

Ouija tipped the pilot generously, and was on their way, taking a taxi from the runway to announce themself to the Prince, and hopefully to get the lay of the land.

More than anything, they wanted to spend a little more time with Birdie.

[acaseofyou]

Edward does not like surprises. Certainly not ones that could potentially be seen as a challenge to his authority in Denver.

There are a few hours, when this was planned, that Birdie spent answering questions. No, it's not official business as far as she's aware, though yes, they are a Primogen. Yes, a Setite, but no, not a proselytizing one. Most of that time is spent in tense silence as Edward considers until finally Birdie reminds him that she does have friends that aren't Anarchs, especially after all this time, and he dismisses her to make arrangements.

Generally, holding Elysium is a casual affair in Denver. Edward dislikes leaving the Broadstreet for Court, though he has plenty of other properties. On an average night he meets with Kindred at a booth where he sits flanked by his Childer like some bluesy mafia don, but tonight he's set up in a back room to accept audiences away from the crowd of Kine in the rest of the club.

When Ouija arrives they will find:

- Their name prominently featured on a guest list that gets them in the door quickly
- A generous mix of Kindred and Kine inside, milling around
- Music pumping through speakers (not Birdie -- one of Edward's old bands)
- Over at the bar near the end closest to the door: Birdie

She's engaged in conversation with a few fans. Not Kindred, but regulars, the kind that like to say they know someone famous and then drop the name of their local news anchor. Her smile with them is subdued, tolerant. It's always a little different, feeling the adoration of the audience when she knows part of it has come from manipulation. The moment she sees Ouija come through the door, though, the smile is magnified. So, too, is the tension in her shoulders.

It's easy enough to extricate herself with the usual niceties and meet them halfway from the door.

"Welcome to Denver," said with a smile, though it seems a little forced, now, as the reality of Ouija and Edward meeting one another is going full steam ahead from worry to reality.

"He's in the back, if you want to get that over with. I don't go on for a little while yet."

i'm rusty af, you're rusty af, we're all rusty af

[organa]

rust powers activate let's pretend this is like, the au, but later

[velocities]

It's been a long time since Han has made hotcakes. Luke isn't here, now. The freighter they're in isn't the Twilight or the Falcon, but it's manageable.

Mostly it's manageable because he's got Leia here.

"How many d'you want?"

This time he might not even burn too many of them.