(no subject)

[gemma-masters.livejournal.com]

Salem, same town that never seems to change much. Of course to the outside eye it seemed like a quiet and sleepy little town. To the locals who knew better it was a lot more interesting than that. Spirits and magics left over from years of pain and suffering surround the place. Gemma suspected if people actually knew what was there they wouldn't walk around so calmly.

But it's home now, the tower seemed content to have her and Hector back in it's walls and showed it in little ways like perfect temperature and lighting that followed them from room to room.

Zauriel was still here in the tower. He'd heard her call from Bete Noir and come for her with the others. And wasn't that just fun to deal with Uncle John and her hanging around an Angel?

She dug out her own stock of actual tea and brewed up a pot humming under her breath as she worked. She might not be as bad as some but she's still a Brit and there's nothing like a cuppa after being thrown into a subdimensional city and being told you were descendants of Cain and oh by the way you're living here now. It's a comfort thing.

She brought the tray of tea and fixings to the room with the fireplace where Zauriel was waiting for her. Hector had celebrated returning to the tower by making an immediate batch of cookies so there was sugar with their tea.

"Isn't it weird that this kind of stuff is starting to seem normal? I'm a lost cause I suspect." She hands Zauriel a mug of tea and settles in next to him.

Not my favorite way to spend the day

[tefe-holland.livejournal.com]

So they wanted us to split up and go get Constantine while they checked out where Caleb got kidnapped from. It means taking the chimp with me to go track down a drunken mystic who will be in a foul mood. How do I get so lucky?

Shadowcrest still has the rosebush by the front door. Zee has been taking care of it, making sure it's watered and getting sun. The bush remembers her as a happy little blue shape that sings while it brings the water. Plants always remember a gift of the air of the lungs, they're kind of easy to impress that way.

Anyway we walk up and ring the bell. Then we wait, and ring it again a couple more times until Constantine finally stumbles down and answers his damn door. There's a long glare and he scrubs the scruff on his face with one hand.

"Right, what the hell blew up this time?"

Insert a roll of the eyes here. "Nice to see you too."

Give your warning sign if danger is near so that I may stop while the path is clear

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

A physician's office is often a showcase for product placement. Pharmaceutical companies love to send out their sales representatives armed with presents branded with their logo and information about their latest wonder drugs.

The office of a free clinic's medical director is a spectacular example of such a showcase, since every notepad, ballpoint pen, felt-tip pen, rollerball pen, highlighter, clipboard, coffee mug, or calendar given by a drug rep represents money they don't have to spend on office supplies. Dr. Fansler's is no exception. In every direction, the doctor and his visitors are treated to a host of names: Fyzer. Luthor Technologies. Wayne Pharmaceuticals. Myrakel. Wayne BioTech. Bannermain Chemical. There is even a bookend from now-defunct Praeda Industries, which Dr. Fansler moves out of the way in order to reach his phone and dial a number.

"Pieter? It's Harry, Harry Fansler. I ... know this may sound strange, but I need a favor. Discreetly. I--this sounds very cloak-and-dagger, but there's privilege at stake. Could you come by the clinic so we could speak face to face? Bring Tara if you want, or another assistant who can be trusted. Thank you." He hangs up the phone and blots his face with his handkerchief.

Alaska: The other Hell

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

The house is overkill. The layout is elaborate and eccentric, and there's more of the little machines around. It's extraordinary that only one person lives here. Corrine holds back the question, 'Got enough space?'

Which, come to think of it, again, for the fifteenth time, she really didn't like getting yelled at. She tried to be nice at first. One snipe, and she's cornered?

Whatever. They haven't said anything to each other, but every once in a while they'll meet eyes and Amelia will smile, all Joker-ish and immature. Little snot.

And now it's time to talk to her. Keep it civil. Just tune anything not important out. "Did you see the thing throw the car, or was your first hint the impact? It doesn't seem that important but it'll tell us how much signature we may get off of it."

Post-Despero

[middle-amazon.livejournal.com]

She didn't go to the satellite after the battle with Despero. She just - went - while all the others were getting treatment. She'd been beat up worse. All she could think of wanting was a hot shower. Just a shower after all this and she'll be okay. Just a shower and dinner and she'll be all right.

Why she plunges herself in pool and just floats there for...however long...is not something she can think about. She can't think of much of anything.

She doesn't notice she's shaking either.

The battle is over

[elfinlantern.livejournal.com]

And Arisia needs some time.

Her physical wounds heal a lot faster than her mental ones and in this case there is a mental traumafield in her head. Her instinct was to head to Portsmouth. She needs a doctor - not for the physical, which her body is still taking care of itself - but for the emotional. He's amazingly good at the emotional.

Zinda wouldn't let her go alone. To be totally truthful, Zinda wouldn't let her even fly them out here. She's too thin. She's tired. She's hurt. She should probably go talk to Hal but just right here and now....

She can't do it.

He wasn't in his right mind. But he wasn't in his right mind the first time, either.

Either way... It... It isn't ...

Arisia pulls in a breath and lets it out again slowly. "How long until we get there?"