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insurgents2030-01-01 12:00 am
fili) wrote in insurgents2030-01-01 12:00 am
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OPEN POST.
FOR NEW PROMPTS AND THREADS, THIS IS THE WAY TO GO.
FOR NEW PROMPTS AND THREADS, THIS IS THE WAY TO GO.
That's the whole of the text that Anders gets halfway through the afternoon, and naturally, he gets all sorts of excited about it. Not that they wouldn't see each other anyway, considering at this point she's pretty much living with him. Riliana had first rented a small place for herself when she came here to his world, he remembers, but he can't honestly recall the last time she stayed there. Half his closet is filled with her clothes by now, two of his drawers are taken up by her underwear, and in the bathroom there are two toothbrushes sitting next to each other on the little plastic cup. Anders doesn't mind it, he never did; this, much like everything else with Riliana, happened thoughtlessly, effortlessly, with no need for serious talks or heavy moments.
Which is why it doesn't even cross his mind that that's what is about to happen when he gets that text.
Sounds promising, he sends with a winking smiley, then he goes back to work. Or he tries to anyway - it's a little difficult to shake off the curiosity he feels about tonight. Maybe she's preparing a surprise for him, or maybe she just really wants to see him, nothing more. One way or the other, it's with immense relief that he sees the last of the day's meetings come to an end, and dismissing whatever paperwork Dawn tries to shove his way, he heads out the door. Tells Dawn to go home to Ty too - work will still be there in the morning, no need for her to be fussing about it now.
He takes a quick detour by the liquor store, because although he does have some alcohol at home, he feels like taking something different anyway. Irish cream it is, a box of chocolates too because why the fuck not, and while he's at it, some special brand of lube for tonight. Pleased with his choices, he drives back to the flat, and it's with a cheerful disposition that he opens the door and steps inside, bag in hand as he turns to look to the living area, expecting to see her there.
Edited 2015-10-27 21:58 (UTC)
Riliana has had contraception charms in place ever since she came of age. Well, at least that's what most of her family believes. The truth is she got them a year before that and she's never had an issue with them since. At least, not until now.
Not until she realized, hugging the toilet while throwing up, that she had missed her last period. Riliana had pulled out one of her family's pregnancy detectors and stared in shock as the little glass charm that had always stayed dead and dull began glowing with pink light. Then she'd taken herself down to the store to get a pregnancy test because clearly the charm was just very old and faulty. Clearly. Nevermind that her family's charms could retain their strength for several decades and were never shoddily made. She'd purchased a test and then a second for good measure.
Positive and positive.
It's two hours before she gets up the nerve to text Anders. And another two by the time that Anders comes home. By then, she's had ample time to figure out what she's going to do. What she's going to say and how she's going to say it. She's going to be very careful about this and very calm and just...see how he reacts. Like, she has a fairly good idea of how he's going to react but she's also going to just wait and see for sure. Instead of just automatically starting on her contingency plan.
So when Anders arrives home with what's clearly supplies for one of their more exciting nights, she feels a little bad that she's going to rain on his parade. It's for that reason that she rises up from the couch and greets him at the door. She gives him a long, lingering kiss as her fingers grasp for his bags to take them away before he dips into anything.
"Welcome home. Had a good day at work?"
Not until she realized, hugging the toilet while throwing up, that she had missed her last period. Riliana had pulled out one of her family's pregnancy detectors and stared in shock as the little glass charm that had always stayed dead and dull began glowing with pink light. Then she'd taken herself down to the store to get a pregnancy test because clearly the charm was just very old and faulty. Clearly. Nevermind that her family's charms could retain their strength for several decades and were never shoddily made. She'd purchased a test and then a second for good measure.
Positive and positive.
It's two hours before she gets up the nerve to text Anders. And another two by the time that Anders comes home. By then, she's had ample time to figure out what she's going to do. What she's going to say and how she's going to say it. She's going to be very careful about this and very calm and just...see how he reacts. Like, she has a fairly good idea of how he's going to react but she's also going to just wait and see for sure. Instead of just automatically starting on her contingency plan.
So when Anders arrives home with what's clearly supplies for one of their more exciting nights, she feels a little bad that she's going to rain on his parade. It's for that reason that she rises up from the couch and greets him at the door. She gives him a long, lingering kiss as her fingers grasp for his bags to take them away before he dips into anything.
"Welcome home. Had a good day at work?"
[Okay so maybe Root doesn't need to be here, not necessarily. But it's raining outside, and she is about to shed her current persona so she can morph into a completely different character when the clock hits midnight, and she does need a new lipstick...
(The flicker of static in her right ear as she walks past the many electronic security devices makes her think of the Machine. Root tries to ignore the pang in her chest at the thought that She hasn't been communicating as freely as she used to.)]
I'm so glad I signed up for the make-up counter's newsletter, [she says in a sing-song voice, sliding into the seat in front of Shaw's work counter.] I would be so sad if I missed all of these great promotions.
(The flicker of static in her right ear as she walks past the many electronic security devices makes her think of the Machine. Root tries to ignore the pang in her chest at the thought that She hasn't been communicating as freely as she used to.)]
I'm so glad I signed up for the make-up counter's newsletter, [she says in a sing-song voice, sliding into the seat in front of Shaw's work counter.] I would be so sad if I missed all of these great promotions.
[ Shaw is hearing a kind of static too. Except hers is just her brain's attempt to tune out the incessant babbling of the annoying women who are looking for just the right kind of mascara, yapping as they ask their friends if a particular shade of red lipstick makes them look too slutty. Worse yet when they turn to her with questions that she really doesn't care the least bit about, and as the day goes on, she gets less and less capable of pretending that she does.
She's still sporting that tired, fake smile when Root comes over and sits right in front of her counter, a quiet tired sigh leaving her as she blinks slowly, hiding the roll of her eyes. Her head tips and she talks in a soft tone - may as well put on a show for the manager, at least. ]
I'm sure that's the only reason you signed up for it.
[ Only not really. Sometimes she can't tell if Root is trying to keep an eye on her, or she just likes to come over and see her suffer in a sea of excessive perfume and setting powder. ]
She's still sporting that tired, fake smile when Root comes over and sits right in front of her counter, a quiet tired sigh leaving her as she blinks slowly, hiding the roll of her eyes. Her head tips and she talks in a soft tone - may as well put on a show for the manager, at least. ]
I'm sure that's the only reason you signed up for it.
[ Only not really. Sometimes she can't tell if Root is trying to keep an eye on her, or she just likes to come over and see her suffer in a sea of excessive perfume and setting powder. ]
[ After the incident at Culver University, Betty though her life couldn't get much weirder. Lonely, sure, but not weirder. Not after a cross-country chase, tearing up Harlem, and everything that came with Bruce's alter ego.
Turns out, she was very, very wrong.
The eastern seaboard lights up when New York does. Dozens -- maybe hundreds -- of satellites turned on American to watch an alien invasion, of all things, get thwarted by a group of superpowered heroes. The god who can control weather, the billionaire in the suit, the archer with amazing aim, the living legend from World War Two .... and Betty forgets to breath at the first glimpse of green.
She watches from the teacher's lounge, awed at the footage, unable to tear herself away from the news reports until (minutes? hours? days?) everything is over, when the aliens have been defeated and the city is no longer under assault. Live footage is now 'moments ago' footage, interspersed with interviews from military and political pundits. Later, she won't quite remember returning to the afternoon's scheduled classes, moving on autopilot and carefully not thinking about anything until she gets home.
It takes three days to arrange a substitute for a day or two worth of lectures, to even get the nerve to drive up the coast, to ignore the messages from her father. She packs an overnight bag and slides her passport into her purse. At the last second, she slides an old camera in there, too. One she hasn't touched since ... well, in a long time.
The drive doesn't take too long, all things considered. There's still a hell of a lot of damage, but most of the freeways are clear, and Betty knows well enough to leave her car in a garage not too far from the highways and take a taxi the rest of the way into Manhattan. Which, as expected, is a snarl of traffic and demolished buildings, around midtown and southwards. There are police and military blockades every few blocks, directing civilians away from sensitive areas. Betty avoids them as best she can, and finally (finally!) makes it to Tony Stark's tower. It, too, has suffered some damage, and she's not stupid enough to try and sneak in. Not when god knows what kind of tech is there.
So she opts to find out if Dr. Banner is there, then scribble a note and hand it to the receptionist, on the off chance 'no comment' really means he's there but no one is going to say anything. She hopes it does.
I'm downstairs.
- E. Ross
She's prepared to wait the rest of the day if necessary, resolutely trying not to think about the possibility he doesn't want to see her. ]
Turns out, she was very, very wrong.
The eastern seaboard lights up when New York does. Dozens -- maybe hundreds -- of satellites turned on American to watch an alien invasion, of all things, get thwarted by a group of superpowered heroes. The god who can control weather, the billionaire in the suit, the archer with amazing aim, the living legend from World War Two .... and Betty forgets to breath at the first glimpse of green.
She watches from the teacher's lounge, awed at the footage, unable to tear herself away from the news reports until (minutes? hours? days?) everything is over, when the aliens have been defeated and the city is no longer under assault. Live footage is now 'moments ago' footage, interspersed with interviews from military and political pundits. Later, she won't quite remember returning to the afternoon's scheduled classes, moving on autopilot and carefully not thinking about anything until she gets home.
It takes three days to arrange a substitute for a day or two worth of lectures, to even get the nerve to drive up the coast, to ignore the messages from her father. She packs an overnight bag and slides her passport into her purse. At the last second, she slides an old camera in there, too. One she hasn't touched since ... well, in a long time.
The drive doesn't take too long, all things considered. There's still a hell of a lot of damage, but most of the freeways are clear, and Betty knows well enough to leave her car in a garage not too far from the highways and take a taxi the rest of the way into Manhattan. Which, as expected, is a snarl of traffic and demolished buildings, around midtown and southwards. There are police and military blockades every few blocks, directing civilians away from sensitive areas. Betty avoids them as best she can, and finally (finally!) makes it to Tony Stark's tower. It, too, has suffered some damage, and she's not stupid enough to try and sneak in. Not when god knows what kind of tech is there.
So she opts to find out if Dr. Banner is there, then scribble a note and hand it to the receptionist, on the off chance 'no comment' really means he's there but no one is going to say anything. She hopes it does.
I'm downstairs.
- E. Ross
She's prepared to wait the rest of the day if necessary, resolutely trying not to think about the possibility he doesn't want to see her. ]
[ It's a funny thing, memory. Bruce has gone weeks or months where he couldn't stop thinking about Betty. Waking up remembering the sound of her calm breath, going to sleep reliving the brightness in her eyes or the curve of her smile. Memories that have both haunted and comforted him, and yet, right here and now, she is so very far from his mind.
Maybe it's the exhaustion. Maybe too much has happened in too short a time that it has taken up his mind completely, but that's not the point. The point is, when he's handed a note, the last thing he expects to see there is that handwriting, that name - that simple statement. So simple and plain, so matter-of-fact - he can immediately imagine her crossing her arms and just standing there until the sun goes down and the city lights up, stubbornly refusing to leave no matter what, and he smiles.
The smile hurts, as it turns out. Stupid Banner, stupid. Of course she'd come. Hiding away, running from one country to the next, keeping himself away from any kind of spotlight, that was easy. He knew Betty couldn't and wouldn't have known where he was all that while. But coming to New York like that, in the middle of an alien invasion, all eyes and cameras, each and every single smartphone turned to the city? He should have known she'd come. He should have expected it.
But he didn't, and now he's standing there, clutching that piece of paper hard in his hand, all but biting his lips to stop himself from... from something.
He doesn't want to see her. But he does, desperately so. It's a complicated thing, but then things have been complicated since the moment he first turned green and massive, and even after Harlem, when he ran and through the years kept that distance between them, it felt like it was never really over. It was always there, and it was always complicated.
But she's not going to leave, and Bruce can't run again. Not this time, not anymore.
How he makes it down to the lobby of the building, he doesn't know. Ask him, and the memory of that elevator ride is a complete blank, the only thing he remembers is the glimpse of her with her back turned when he gets to the ground floor, the memory of her saying his name filling his head all the while. Bruce... Bruce. She turns, and he's rooted to the spot, even if it's barely a couple of feet that separate them at that point. ]
Betty.
Maybe it's the exhaustion. Maybe too much has happened in too short a time that it has taken up his mind completely, but that's not the point. The point is, when he's handed a note, the last thing he expects to see there is that handwriting, that name - that simple statement. So simple and plain, so matter-of-fact - he can immediately imagine her crossing her arms and just standing there until the sun goes down and the city lights up, stubbornly refusing to leave no matter what, and he smiles.
The smile hurts, as it turns out. Stupid Banner, stupid. Of course she'd come. Hiding away, running from one country to the next, keeping himself away from any kind of spotlight, that was easy. He knew Betty couldn't and wouldn't have known where he was all that while. But coming to New York like that, in the middle of an alien invasion, all eyes and cameras, each and every single smartphone turned to the city? He should have known she'd come. He should have expected it.
But he didn't, and now he's standing there, clutching that piece of paper hard in his hand, all but biting his lips to stop himself from... from something.
He doesn't want to see her. But he does, desperately so. It's a complicated thing, but then things have been complicated since the moment he first turned green and massive, and even after Harlem, when he ran and through the years kept that distance between them, it felt like it was never really over. It was always there, and it was always complicated.
But she's not going to leave, and Bruce can't run again. Not this time, not anymore.
How he makes it down to the lobby of the building, he doesn't know. Ask him, and the memory of that elevator ride is a complete blank, the only thing he remembers is the glimpse of her with her back turned when he gets to the ground floor, the memory of her saying his name filling his head all the while. Bruce... Bruce. She turns, and he's rooted to the spot, even if it's barely a couple of feet that separate them at that point. ]
Betty.
[ Bruce isn't entirely sure how it happened.
It was just another mission. Tony was joking like always, one moment a blur of red and gold flying past at great speed-- the next, thrown to the ground violently by a shot aimed too perfectly. It was so quick too. Death didn't come as a slow, drawn-out dramatic scene. As quick as he was breathing one second, the next he wasn't. Half of the team didn't even realize it at first, Bruce ended up being the one to run out towards him before anyone else, which really wasn't a brilliant idea in the middle of a fight, but he couldn't bring himself to care just then.
Not that it served much of a purpose, in the end. The Hulk hadn't even come out then. There had been no Code Green, no need for the monster to go around smashing things, or so they thought. Had he been there, maybe he could've done something. Maybe he could've saved his friend.
But then, that's how the whole team's feeling right now. Or what poor excuse of a team is left after they've lost Tony. Without him, it's like there's no glue to keep them together, no rope to connect them to each other. They're just pieces disconnected, scattered. The whole world mourns with them, but those closest to Tony definitely suffer the most.
Bruce doesn't know how the others are doing, though. He hasn't left the lab for days now - maybe weeks. What little food he's eaten, it's been delivered there, and what little sleep he's gotten, it's been in the old tattered couch he got for himself, taking up a small corner of the room. He barely changes clothes, hasn't taken a proper shower in days, not to mention any kind of grooming or shaving.
It all feels a little pointless, anyway. It's not like he has anywhere to go, or anything to do. He's thought about leaving, though. Just packing up and disappearing again. Any day now, he might just do that.
But for now, he stays. If anything because it feels safer, to hide away in here, to avoid people altogether. Curled up in the small couch, facing away from the door, he hides under a blanket, not really sleeping but trying to make it look like he is. Usually that works to get anyone who comes by to leave without trying to talk to him. ]
It was just another mission. Tony was joking like always, one moment a blur of red and gold flying past at great speed-- the next, thrown to the ground violently by a shot aimed too perfectly. It was so quick too. Death didn't come as a slow, drawn-out dramatic scene. As quick as he was breathing one second, the next he wasn't. Half of the team didn't even realize it at first, Bruce ended up being the one to run out towards him before anyone else, which really wasn't a brilliant idea in the middle of a fight, but he couldn't bring himself to care just then.
Not that it served much of a purpose, in the end. The Hulk hadn't even come out then. There had been no Code Green, no need for the monster to go around smashing things, or so they thought. Had he been there, maybe he could've done something. Maybe he could've saved his friend.
But then, that's how the whole team's feeling right now. Or what poor excuse of a team is left after they've lost Tony. Without him, it's like there's no glue to keep them together, no rope to connect them to each other. They're just pieces disconnected, scattered. The whole world mourns with them, but those closest to Tony definitely suffer the most.
Bruce doesn't know how the others are doing, though. He hasn't left the lab for days now - maybe weeks. What little food he's eaten, it's been delivered there, and what little sleep he's gotten, it's been in the old tattered couch he got for himself, taking up a small corner of the room. He barely changes clothes, hasn't taken a proper shower in days, not to mention any kind of grooming or shaving.
It all feels a little pointless, anyway. It's not like he has anywhere to go, or anything to do. He's thought about leaving, though. Just packing up and disappearing again. Any day now, he might just do that.
But for now, he stays. If anything because it feels safer, to hide away in here, to avoid people altogether. Curled up in the small couch, facing away from the door, he hides under a blanket, not really sleeping but trying to make it look like he is. Usually that works to get anyone who comes by to leave without trying to talk to him. ]
[It's been thirty-three days exactly.
If she truly wished to, Pepper has little doubt she could narrow it down to hours and minutes--honestly, all she has to do is ask JARVIS what time it had been when they told her (Steve had been the one to say the words), but she isn't looking to torture herself today. The fact that it's been thirty-three days is simply something she knows, thirty-three days without hearing his voice prattle on endlessly or seeing that cocky grin, thirty-three days since he did something that made her want to throw a shoe at him.
Life without Tony Stark isn't just empty; it's maddeningly quiet.
In that time, Pepper has laid her lover to rest, mourned, and once more taken up the mantle of CEO. When he'd been dying before he spoke of legacy and said she was the one; Pepper will honor that, and more, she needs to. The death of the last Stark has made some question the future of the company named after the line, and she won't see that fail. She won't fail him, or herself by letting her agony get the better of her. She won't fail the world, because she and Tony both have worked hard to make Stark Industries so much better than a company that manufactured weapons.
So thirty-three days have gone by, and the future of the company stands so much more certain. The same, however, can't be said for others. Tony hadn't only been Tony Stark, but also Iron Man, a superhero, an Avenger. Pepper can't do much for them; they all blame themselves, she knows that, and there have been angry moments when she blamed them too. That doesn't mean they aren't--weren't--important to Tony, or to her. The team had been important, and she wants to preserve that somehow.
Bruce is the easiest for her to check on. Not because he answers phone calls or reaches out, but simply because Pepper knows where he is. Locked away in the lab, just as Tony himself had been during his darkest days. She makes her way downstairs, by all appearances perfectly put together; even the jeans and t-shirt she wears because it's her day off are neat and crisp, sharp as the sound of her heels on the tile floor. She makes it no further than a few feet into the lab before the sight hits her, the smell, and she frowns as her mind instinctively tries to identify the source of the foul odor.]
Oh my God; Bruce? Are you down here? [There's an alarming number of take out containers scattered about (though not enough to fill those thirty-three days), but another scent becomes evident when she approaches the couch. The lump under the blanket isn't moving, but that doesn't matter. Given the state of the lab and the body odor coming from him, Pepper fully intends on waking him, laying a hand on his shoulder to do so.] Bruce, get up.
If she truly wished to, Pepper has little doubt she could narrow it down to hours and minutes--honestly, all she has to do is ask JARVIS what time it had been when they told her (Steve had been the one to say the words), but she isn't looking to torture herself today. The fact that it's been thirty-three days is simply something she knows, thirty-three days without hearing his voice prattle on endlessly or seeing that cocky grin, thirty-three days since he did something that made her want to throw a shoe at him.
Life without Tony Stark isn't just empty; it's maddeningly quiet.
In that time, Pepper has laid her lover to rest, mourned, and once more taken up the mantle of CEO. When he'd been dying before he spoke of legacy and said she was the one; Pepper will honor that, and more, she needs to. The death of the last Stark has made some question the future of the company named after the line, and she won't see that fail. She won't fail him, or herself by letting her agony get the better of her. She won't fail the world, because she and Tony both have worked hard to make Stark Industries so much better than a company that manufactured weapons.
So thirty-three days have gone by, and the future of the company stands so much more certain. The same, however, can't be said for others. Tony hadn't only been Tony Stark, but also Iron Man, a superhero, an Avenger. Pepper can't do much for them; they all blame themselves, she knows that, and there have been angry moments when she blamed them too. That doesn't mean they aren't--weren't--important to Tony, or to her. The team had been important, and she wants to preserve that somehow.
Bruce is the easiest for her to check on. Not because he answers phone calls or reaches out, but simply because Pepper knows where he is. Locked away in the lab, just as Tony himself had been during his darkest days. She makes her way downstairs, by all appearances perfectly put together; even the jeans and t-shirt she wears because it's her day off are neat and crisp, sharp as the sound of her heels on the tile floor. She makes it no further than a few feet into the lab before the sight hits her, the smell, and she frowns as her mind instinctively tries to identify the source of the foul odor.]
Oh my God; Bruce? Are you down here? [There's an alarming number of take out containers scattered about (though not enough to fill those thirty-three days), but another scent becomes evident when she approaches the couch. The lump under the blanket isn't moving, but that doesn't matter. Given the state of the lab and the body odor coming from him, Pepper fully intends on waking him, laying a hand on his shoulder to do so.] Bruce, get up.
Edited 2016-01-01 17:00 (UTC)
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It's a nowhere type café in a nowhere type of place, and Trish is looking desperately out of place with her designer clothes and naked confusion.
An anonymous tip had told her that she would find answers here, in this little town that seems to not be much more than a street, and she has no idea how to even start looking.
She has no trouble believing that IGH, the organisation that may or may not be responsible for Jessica's extraordinary abilities, have tentacles all over, but what could they be doing here?
She'd had such a good gut feeling about that tip! Maybe she needs to get her guts checked...
An anonymous tip had told her that she would find answers here, in this little town that seems to not be much more than a street, and she has no idea how to even start looking.
She has no trouble believing that IGH, the organisation that may or may not be responsible for Jessica's extraordinary abilities, have tentacles all over, but what could they be doing here?
She'd had such a good gut feeling about that tip! Maybe she needs to get her guts checked...
There wasn't any clues about IGH in that nowhere little town, of course there wasn't. Trish remains uncertain whether or not she wants to kiss Nick Fury or punch him.
She is overjoyed to have Bruce back of course, and maybe it's not the wisest thing in the world to look this particular gift horse in the mouth, but part of her does wish they could have gotten back together without anyone meddling.
Part of her wishes Bruce would have chosen to come home, or at least get in touch.
Be that as it may, she is still happier that she has been in a long time, and now they are pulling up outside a tiny little cabin far away from absolutely everything. Trish has to laugh when she sees it.
"You weren't messing around with the whole isolation thing. This place must be completely off the grid."
No electricity, no indoor plumbing. Damn, she is too prissy for this.
She gets out of the car and walks around to the trunk, still good-naturedly "complaining".
"And you had to pick somewhere cold, too."
She is overjoyed to have Bruce back of course, and maybe it's not the wisest thing in the world to look this particular gift horse in the mouth, but part of her does wish they could have gotten back together without anyone meddling.
Part of her wishes Bruce would have chosen to come home, or at least get in touch.
Be that as it may, she is still happier that she has been in a long time, and now they are pulling up outside a tiny little cabin far away from absolutely everything. Trish has to laugh when she sees it.
"You weren't messing around with the whole isolation thing. This place must be completely off the grid."
No electricity, no indoor plumbing. Damn, she is too prissy for this.
She gets out of the car and walks around to the trunk, still good-naturedly "complaining".
"And you had to pick somewhere cold, too."
Bruce is a little bit on the fence on that himself. On the one hand, he knows it would've taken him weeks or months to so much as get in touch with her if she hadn't found him; on the other, the knowledge that SHIELD managed to track him down and keep tabs on him so easily worried him - as it always had.
Right now, though? He couldn't care any less about that. The prospect of spending some time with Trish in the middle of absolutely nowhere is far too delightful, exciting too considering what they had agreed to try while they're here.
Of course, it seems that the weather is a little colder than what he was expecting, but... oh well, what can you do.
"It's nice like this, though, isn't it? No one will bother us here."
And they've brought more than enough food to last them a couple of weeks, so they have some margin on how long they stick around. If something runs out, they can just go on a roadtrip to the nearest small town.
He climbs out of the car too, smiling as he starts helping her unload the trunk.
"To be fair, the weather was really nice the last time I was up here." Canada, though. He should've known better. "But there's a basic heating system - plus, a fireplace. So we can get that whole 'crackling fire in the early morning' vibe that you like."
Right now, though? He couldn't care any less about that. The prospect of spending some time with Trish in the middle of absolutely nowhere is far too delightful, exciting too considering what they had agreed to try while they're here.
Of course, it seems that the weather is a little colder than what he was expecting, but... oh well, what can you do.
"It's nice like this, though, isn't it? No one will bother us here."
And they've brought more than enough food to last them a couple of weeks, so they have some margin on how long they stick around. If something runs out, they can just go on a roadtrip to the nearest small town.
He climbs out of the car too, smiling as he starts helping her unload the trunk.
"To be fair, the weather was really nice the last time I was up here." Canada, though. He should've known better. "But there's a basic heating system - plus, a fireplace. So we can get that whole 'crackling fire in the early morning' vibe that you like."
[ He's not even sure where he ends up at first. By the time he comes to as himself on the Quinjet, he's a good few hundred miles from where he started, and he actually has to figure out where to go from there - where to hide, this time around. He's been to a myriad of places, and he knows that it might not be so easy to go by unnoticed in some of them, so he picks somewhere really new, while not being entirely disconnected from everything. Some small country in Southern Europe, he decides, since he's never stayed there long. Picking a quaint little town helps too, where governmental presence isn't as strong, and SHIELD might not reach him quite as easily.
Not that he thinks they'd try to force him to go back. He hopes they know better than to do that. Bruce needs this, needs time on his own, and being away from everything and everyone. And after all that's happened, he realizes that the Avengers - his friends - and the world as a whole might just be better off without him around. He's just a danger, a liability, a bomb waiting to go off at the slightest nudge.
He tried to do good, after all. And where did that get him, exactly?
It takes him a day or so to get settled, finding some small place to stay at. He's managed to gather some money by selling certain nondescript and harmless items on the Quinjet, which will serve him well enough for now. He'll think about getting some kind of job just to get by soon enough.
After a decent shower and new, clean clothes, he feels almost like himself again. Almost, but just enough that he decides to venture outside for a walk. The cobbled streets are wide and clean, mostly empty save for the occasional person or small bike going past him, and he makes his way down the length of it, headed towards the ocean shore for a breath of fresh air. Not that this place is exactly lacking in that aspect, mind. ]
Not that he thinks they'd try to force him to go back. He hopes they know better than to do that. Bruce needs this, needs time on his own, and being away from everything and everyone. And after all that's happened, he realizes that the Avengers - his friends - and the world as a whole might just be better off without him around. He's just a danger, a liability, a bomb waiting to go off at the slightest nudge.
He tried to do good, after all. And where did that get him, exactly?
It takes him a day or so to get settled, finding some small place to stay at. He's managed to gather some money by selling certain nondescript and harmless items on the Quinjet, which will serve him well enough for now. He'll think about getting some kind of job just to get by soon enough.
After a decent shower and new, clean clothes, he feels almost like himself again. Almost, but just enough that he decides to venture outside for a walk. The cobbled streets are wide and clean, mostly empty save for the occasional person or small bike going past him, and he makes his way down the length of it, headed towards the ocean shore for a breath of fresh air. Not that this place is exactly lacking in that aspect, mind. ]
[After successfully faking his death on Svartalfheim a year or so back, Loki did not choose to return to Asgard, tempting though the proposition was at the time. Instead he took advantage of the convergence between realms to sneak his way back to Midgard right under Thor's nose, weak from the wound he'd taken but strong enough to shield himself from detection as he found a place to hide.
It didn't take enormous knowledge of Midgard to realize remaining in the United Kingdom was probably unwise if he wished to keep a low profile. After he healed well enough to travel safely, Loki conducted a fair amount of research and ultimately settled on a small country in the southern part of Europe. Thanks to the All-Speak the differing languages posed no problem, and a little illusion here and there bought him the proper clothes to fit in and eventually a small home near the shore.
The little kingdom was quiet and peaceful.
Loki didn't like it.
He passed the days agonizing over every decision he'd made over the past few years, over his mother's death and his father's harsh condemnations. The only real break came when the Avengers fought a new foe called 'Ultron,' but even that was over far too soon. Admittedly, he did heave a sigh of relief with everyone else when the group of heroes managed to avert a potential planet-wide apocalyptic event. That wouldn't have done anyone any good.
Soon after the excitement faded and Loki return to his new routine- working at the local bookstore until lunchtime, and then strolling toward the nearby cafe for a bite to eat. Although he's since cut his hair a few inches and wears it loosely around his face rather than carefully slicked back, the sorcerer hasn't bothered to change much else about his appearance. Why bother when almost no mortals outside of a few in SHIELD had ever seen him?
Well, it turned out he would have his answer eventually when he noticed Bruce Banner walking down the street in the cafe's direction. So startled he dropped the ceramic cup in his hand, shattering it on the street and earning a few jumps and gasps from others nearby. What in the Nine Realms was he doing here?]
It didn't take enormous knowledge of Midgard to realize remaining in the United Kingdom was probably unwise if he wished to keep a low profile. After he healed well enough to travel safely, Loki conducted a fair amount of research and ultimately settled on a small country in the southern part of Europe. Thanks to the All-Speak the differing languages posed no problem, and a little illusion here and there bought him the proper clothes to fit in and eventually a small home near the shore.
The little kingdom was quiet and peaceful.
Loki didn't like it.
He passed the days agonizing over every decision he'd made over the past few years, over his mother's death and his father's harsh condemnations. The only real break came when the Avengers fought a new foe called 'Ultron,' but even that was over far too soon. Admittedly, he did heave a sigh of relief with everyone else when the group of heroes managed to avert a potential planet-wide apocalyptic event. That wouldn't have done anyone any good.
Soon after the excitement faded and Loki return to his new routine- working at the local bookstore until lunchtime, and then strolling toward the nearby cafe for a bite to eat. Although he's since cut his hair a few inches and wears it loosely around his face rather than carefully slicked back, the sorcerer hasn't bothered to change much else about his appearance. Why bother when almost no mortals outside of a few in SHIELD had ever seen him?
Well, it turned out he would have his answer eventually when he noticed Bruce Banner walking down the street in the cafe's direction. So startled he dropped the ceramic cup in his hand, shattering it on the street and earning a few jumps and gasps from others nearby. What in the Nine Realms was he doing here?]
[ It had been a long, difficult battle. Joking with Clint aside, it had easily been one of the most intense firefights Nate had ever been in. And not simply because of the alien factor (although that hadn't helped at all). It was the sheer number being thrown at them, spread out over a city and trying to save the residents in it. Nate had been too engrossed in the battle to be overwhelmed. Though exhaustion had tried to set in a few times.
By the end, he could barely move after sitting down at the shawarma place Stark had led them to. The food helped. A lot. They were still roughed up and dirty. Nate still had dried blood on his face but it didn't matter. The food was good and they had more or less saved the city.
He waits until the others are talking amongst themselves to look over at Bruce and says, ]
You did good today. Really good.
[ Incredible, even. But he knows Banner isn't really one for compliments. ]
By the end, he could barely move after sitting down at the shawarma place Stark had led them to. The food helped. A lot. They were still roughed up and dirty. Nate still had dried blood on his face but it didn't matter. The food was good and they had more or less saved the city.
He waits until the others are talking amongst themselves to look over at Bruce and says, ]
You did good today. Really good.
[ Incredible, even. But he knows Banner isn't really one for compliments. ]
[ The Hulk was tireless. That was probably the best thing about transforming and having him fight with the others, was that he didn't have moments where he just couldn't keep up or felt overwhelmed. If anything, the way the aliens kept coming at him only made him angrier, stronger, faster.
But that also meant that once all was said and done, and Bruce went back to being his small, usual self, he could barely stand on his own two legs without feeling his knees give in beneath the weight.
So, it's a good thing that he doesn't have to stand. His weight is heavily set on the chair, taking him already a good amount of effort to manage keeping his head upright, or lifting the food up to his mouth. But he's more starving than he is exhausted, and he devours the pieces of meat and the chips like he hasn't eaten anything in days.
He's glad to keep himself out of the conversations, though at first everyone's quiet, too tired to focus on anything other than the food. When the talking begins, Bruce keeps to the sidelines, his teammates' voices a distant background noise until one of them addresses him directly.
His eyes lift from his food, focusing on Nate's face. His smile is weak and small, as he nods his head minutely. ]
Thanks. [ He's right, Bruce really isn't one for compliments. He never knows what to say to them, either. ] You too.
But that also meant that once all was said and done, and Bruce went back to being his small, usual self, he could barely stand on his own two legs without feeling his knees give in beneath the weight.
So, it's a good thing that he doesn't have to stand. His weight is heavily set on the chair, taking him already a good amount of effort to manage keeping his head upright, or lifting the food up to his mouth. But he's more starving than he is exhausted, and he devours the pieces of meat and the chips like he hasn't eaten anything in days.
He's glad to keep himself out of the conversations, though at first everyone's quiet, too tired to focus on anything other than the food. When the talking begins, Bruce keeps to the sidelines, his teammates' voices a distant background noise until one of them addresses him directly.
His eyes lift from his food, focusing on Nate's face. His smile is weak and small, as he nods his head minutely. ]
Thanks. [ He's right, Bruce really isn't one for compliments. He never knows what to say to them, either. ] You too.
[Betty loses track of Bruce early on in the afternoon when they attend separate lectures after lunch. It's all according to plan. There's just nothing "binary neutron star mergers" has to offer her when Dr. Lucius Kleinstein is also there leading a talk on differentiation mechanisms of mesenchymal stem cells when associated with the X-gene. How are stars colliding more cool than the X-gene?
Whatever, she is sort of expecting to see him when the poster session starts, but a quick scan of the room comes up empty and she figures he's avoiding the crowd, or, just as likely, still in Lecture Hall 2B1 and lost in time. Nothing to worry about, and there are some student presenters she's duty-bound to encourage. She saves up a plate of small sandwiches for him and circulates the room.
She's just beginning to wonder if she's even going to see him before the keynote address begins when she spots him out in one of the halls wrapped up in debate with an older gentleman she doesn't recognise. His shoulders are slightly tensed - the information registers automatically - but he's not gesturing overmuch and she's not sure what it means, if he's immersed in his happy science talk place or if he needs rescuing.
Without thinking anything through, she makes her way towards him, navigating the light traffic until she's behind the gentleman and hopefully in Bruce's line of sight. She leans against the wall and nibbles on a sandwich, listening in.]
Whatever, she is sort of expecting to see him when the poster session starts, but a quick scan of the room comes up empty and she figures he's avoiding the crowd, or, just as likely, still in Lecture Hall 2B1 and lost in time. Nothing to worry about, and there are some student presenters she's duty-bound to encourage. She saves up a plate of small sandwiches for him and circulates the room.
She's just beginning to wonder if she's even going to see him before the keynote address begins when she spots him out in one of the halls wrapped up in debate with an older gentleman she doesn't recognise. His shoulders are slightly tensed - the information registers automatically - but he's not gesturing overmuch and she's not sure what it means, if he's immersed in his happy science talk place or if he needs rescuing.
Without thinking anything through, she makes her way towards him, navigating the light traffic until she's behind the gentleman and hopefully in Bruce's line of sight. She leans against the wall and nibbles on a sandwich, listening in.]
[ It feels like a punishment, somehow. Colliding stars seems almost like it was a bait, now that he looks back on it, because it's in that lecture that he gets stuck with That Guy who insists on some old view or method, some belief otherwise disproven by modern science. Bruce is very patient, he really is, but the man is just close minded enough, stubborn enough, and apparently has read enough of Bruce's work to feel like prodding and annoying him by saying that everything he wrote in his papers is wrong.
Definitely a punishment. Should've just gone with Betty— the X-gene is starting to sound like a heavenly topic right about now.
Bruce doesn't see her cross the room right away. He's a little too busy trying not to interrupt the man halfway through his sentence (something he's done to Bruce a number of times by now), although as she comes closer she likely won't miss the massive eyeroll Bruce just narrowly manages to hold back.
He starts answering once the man stops long enough for breath. Voice still low, calm, but with a definite strain to it, a kind of disbelief to his tone whenever his current company tries to interrupt him yet again with some pointless or inaccurate fact. Bruce closes his eyes, rubs them and sighs, and when he opens them again he catches Betty in his line of sight. ]
Oh, thank God. [ Quickly he turns to the man. ] No, not for you. You know what? Thanks. This was... enlightening. I thought specimens like you only existed in museums these days.
[ The biting remark is delivered in a soft tone and with a tense smile, then he walks past the man, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he clearly rolls his eyes now, putting his arm around Betty's waist once he makes his way over and gently guiding her to walk with him. ]
Let's please go to the other side of the room. If I have to listen to that man talk for another minute...
Definitely a punishment. Should've just gone with Betty— the X-gene is starting to sound like a heavenly topic right about now.
Bruce doesn't see her cross the room right away. He's a little too busy trying not to interrupt the man halfway through his sentence (something he's done to Bruce a number of times by now), although as she comes closer she likely won't miss the massive eyeroll Bruce just narrowly manages to hold back.
He starts answering once the man stops long enough for breath. Voice still low, calm, but with a definite strain to it, a kind of disbelief to his tone whenever his current company tries to interrupt him yet again with some pointless or inaccurate fact. Bruce closes his eyes, rubs them and sighs, and when he opens them again he catches Betty in his line of sight. ]
Oh, thank God. [ Quickly he turns to the man. ] No, not for you. You know what? Thanks. This was... enlightening. I thought specimens like you only existed in museums these days.
[ The biting remark is delivered in a soft tone and with a tense smile, then he walks past the man, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he clearly rolls his eyes now, putting his arm around Betty's waist once he makes his way over and gently guiding her to walk with him. ]
Let's please go to the other side of the room. If I have to listen to that man talk for another minute...
Dear Bruce,
I sat down to write you a sincere and heartfelt email, one brimming over with questions or pieces of my mind. But you know, the biology department circulates memes now.
Someone linked this article to me just as I was sitting down. It's a few years old, so I expect you've seen it already, but it was news to me. I know things aren't easy for you, but I want you to know that it made me smile. That's why you're off the hook.
Please don't change your address without telling me again. I hate feeling like your creepy stalker ex. The case is too easy to make.
I love you.
Betty
[ooc: I'm mostly kidding, but #always-tag-ricks was trending. Good morning.]
I sat down to write you a sincere and heartfelt email, one brimming over with questions or pieces of my mind. But you know, the biology department circulates memes now.
Someone linked this article to me just as I was sitting down. It's a few years old, so I expect you've seen it already, but it was news to me. I know things aren't easy for you, but I want you to know that it made me smile. That's why you're off the hook.
Please don't change your address without telling me again. I hate feeling like your creepy stalker ex. The case is too easy to make.
I love you.
Betty
[ooc: I'm mostly kidding, but #always-tag-ricks was trending. Good morning.]
Edited 2016-03-11 06:09 (UTC)
Betty,
It looks like you finally uncovered the other guy's top secret blog. Sorry I never shared before. He's very proud of it and his feminist ideologies, I'll have you know.
I'm sorry about the radio silence. Things happened. Kind of all over the place right now. Keep this e-mail, your messages will get to me one way or the other. Forget the physical address, though. I don't have a fixed location right now. For the record, I don't mind it if you're my creepy stalker ex.
How are you? I hope you're happy. Or well enough, at least. I hope work's been good too.
Always missing you.
Bruce
It looks like you finally uncovered the other guy's top secret blog. Sorry I never shared before. He's very proud of it and his feminist ideologies, I'll have you know.
I'm sorry about the radio silence. Things happened. Kind of all over the place right now. Keep this e-mail, your messages will get to me one way or the other. Forget the physical address, though. I don't have a fixed location right now. For the record, I don't mind it if you're my creepy stalker ex.
How are you? I hope you're happy. Or well enough, at least. I hope work's been good too.
Always missing you.
Bruce
[ooc: I wanted to try prose! And accidentally NPCed but he's going away.]
"—in here. Oh, hello Betty."
Betty very carefully doesn't roll her eyes at the voices coming from behind her. There's someone behind Mr. Sunders, though, and she pulls on a warmer smile. "You must be our newest genius. You'll be sharing the bench with me until the department cobbles together some more space."
"Betty is studying cell biology," Keith Sunders cuts in before either can speak. "The project has a strong interdisciplinary component. From what I hear, she's all but moved in. Work, work, work, that's our Betty. I'm sure she can help you find anything you need. She must be very happy to have another girl on the floor."
"There's Ms. Yin," Betty objects, smile chipping at the edges. Her samples are oxidizing and she longs to turn around. She can already hear the cells screaming as they blacken.
Mr. Sunders only laughs. "Oh that's right. Helen Yin is our laboratory safety supervisor. Another good person to ask for help. We can stop by her desk next."
"I'll take you to her," Betty volunteers. Please leave, Mr. Sunders. "Let me get to know my new teammate. I know the tour by heart." She turns to Ruth. "Brennan Banner, right? Physics?"
"—in here. Oh, hello Betty."
Betty very carefully doesn't roll her eyes at the voices coming from behind her. There's someone behind Mr. Sunders, though, and she pulls on a warmer smile. "You must be our newest genius. You'll be sharing the bench with me until the department cobbles together some more space."
"Betty is studying cell biology," Keith Sunders cuts in before either can speak. "The project has a strong interdisciplinary component. From what I hear, she's all but moved in. Work, work, work, that's our Betty. I'm sure she can help you find anything you need. She must be very happy to have another girl on the floor."
"There's Ms. Yin," Betty objects, smile chipping at the edges. Her samples are oxidizing and she longs to turn around. She can already hear the cells screaming as they blacken.
Mr. Sunders only laughs. "Oh that's right. Helen Yin is our laboratory safety supervisor. Another good person to ask for help. We can stop by her desk next."
"I'll take you to her," Betty volunteers. Please leave, Mr. Sunders. "Let me get to know my new teammate. I know the tour by heart." She turns to Ruth. "Brennan Banner, right? Physics?"
Edited 2016-03-23 01:34 (UTC)
Mr. Sunders likes to talk, apparently. A lot. Which, for the most part, Ruth doesn't mind. She keeps quiet for most of the tour anyway, glad to finally be introduced to Betty. Not because she's a girl, as Mr. Saunders so helpfully implies, but just because it's someone else, someone who hopefully has something a little more interesting to talk about. (No offense to the man.)
She opens her mouth to talk, ends up closing it again. It looks like she won't be able to say much of anything until he leaves, so she waits, an eyebrow raised just so as she glances sideways at him, a look that's nearly an eyeroll except not quite. It's only when Betty efficiently cuts him off that she finally gets to speak up, offering a small smile as she nods.
"Nuclear physics. And you can call me Ruth." She hesitates, then reaches a hand out for a shake. Mr. Saunders nods, apparently pleased with his work, and decides to leave the two of them to their own devices. And their 'girl talk', he probably thinks. Christ. "Thank you, by the way. Betty, as in...?"
Just in case she's not a fan of that diminutive, and Ruth doesn't want to step on any toes.
She opens her mouth to talk, ends up closing it again. It looks like she won't be able to say much of anything until he leaves, so she waits, an eyebrow raised just so as she glances sideways at him, a look that's nearly an eyeroll except not quite. It's only when Betty efficiently cuts him off that she finally gets to speak up, offering a small smile as she nods.
"Nuclear physics. And you can call me Ruth." She hesitates, then reaches a hand out for a shake. Mr. Saunders nods, apparently pleased with his work, and decides to leave the two of them to their own devices. And their 'girl talk', he probably thinks. Christ. "Thank you, by the way. Betty, as in...?"
Just in case she's not a fan of that diminutive, and Ruth doesn't want to step on any toes.
Looking for Bruce hadn't been at the top of Natasha's list. She's not selfish enough to put her needs ahead of the more important issues she's got on her plate, nor is she selfish enough to put her feelings ahead of Bruce's. He doesn't want to be found and she isn't going to push until it becomes necessary. Her ear is still to the ground for any mention of him, though. She can't help wanting to know, even if she isn't planning to act on it. In retrospect, maybe she should have been a little more selfish, because then they wouldn't be in this mess.
When she'd finally heard something substantial about him, it had been that a rogue HYDRA cell had his location and they were going after him. There'd been no time to ask for help and really no question of whether or not she would go to him. He's going to be found by someone either way, so better her than HYDRA.
That's how she finds herself slipping through trees in the dead of the night with a gun drawn, trying to find a Bruce who doesn't want to be found with only a vague idea of where he might be in strange territory that may or may not already be full of HYDRA.
She steps on a wet stick and winces at the loud snap it makes. Who knows who or what else could be out here right now?
When she'd finally heard something substantial about him, it had been that a rogue HYDRA cell had his location and they were going after him. There'd been no time to ask for help and really no question of whether or not she would go to him. He's going to be found by someone either way, so better her than HYDRA.
That's how she finds herself slipping through trees in the dead of the night with a gun drawn, trying to find a Bruce who doesn't want to be found with only a vague idea of where he might be in strange territory that may or may not already be full of HYDRA.
She steps on a wet stick and winces at the loud snap it makes. Who knows who or what else could be out here right now?
It's unsettling how easy it is to slip back into a life on the run. Years getting used to being in a big city, surrounded by people, interacting with them every day, and in the blink of an eye he's again hitchhiking from place to place, hopping on boats or climbing mountains just so he can cross borders, finding whatever menial jobs he can to get by and manage to keep on going.
At least he lacks the time to think about everything that's happened. Or maybe he has too much of it, when he spends most of his time on his own, and even in the company of others he's more turned inwardly, lost in his own thoughts. He's not sure if it's better or worse, but then Bruce has always been the kind of overthink things, so one way or the other, he'll live.
Just like he'll live having to walk through these dense woods in the middle of the night just to get to the next country over. Everything is quiet and still, and while he takes a quick break, there's the distinct sound of wood snapping under pressure, loud enough that he's almost sure isn't made by an animal.
He straightens up, turns to where the sound came from. For a moment he considers actually walking the other way, but ends up making his way towards it, quiet and careful as he gets closer, peeking from behind each tree in hopes of getting a glimpse of whoever made that sound.
Terrible idea, he starts to tell himself. Another part of him tries to reason by wondering what's the worst thing that can happen, but then— the worst thing that can happen would be pretty catastrophic, so... yeah.
At least he lacks the time to think about everything that's happened. Or maybe he has too much of it, when he spends most of his time on his own, and even in the company of others he's more turned inwardly, lost in his own thoughts. He's not sure if it's better or worse, but then Bruce has always been the kind of overthink things, so one way or the other, he'll live.
Just like he'll live having to walk through these dense woods in the middle of the night just to get to the next country over. Everything is quiet and still, and while he takes a quick break, there's the distinct sound of wood snapping under pressure, loud enough that he's almost sure isn't made by an animal.
He straightens up, turns to where the sound came from. For a moment he considers actually walking the other way, but ends up making his way towards it, quiet and careful as he gets closer, peeking from behind each tree in hopes of getting a glimpse of whoever made that sound.
Terrible idea, he starts to tell himself. Another part of him tries to reason by wondering what's the worst thing that can happen, but then— the worst thing that can happen would be pretty catastrophic, so... yeah.
Rain starts to fall heavily halfway through the early morning, even before the sun climbs up the sky.
It's a small village she's in right now, and the people are few, but what they fight for is no less important. Their crops, their cattle, their families and homes, those are things worth keeping, and Diana has taken part in many a great war before, but this is just as meaningful in her eye.
She should like for peaceful resolutions, but peace isn't always an option. Sometimes words have to give way to shield and sword, and that is why she's sitting on a horse right now, along with a few hundred armed warriors as well, waiting in heavy silence as they look on to the contour of the plains in the distance. Raindrops fall heavy on her face, roll down her cheeks, weigh down her hair, but she ignores that, her eyes never leaving the horizon as she waits.
She waits, and finally she sees them, the large group of bandits fast approaching them. They want the village, she knows, the prime position near the sea, and they don't care that they would be killing hundreds to manage that. That's the way of the world, and she's not naïve; the nature of Men hardly surprises her anymore.
A thunder cracks in the sky, but she barely blinks, drawing out her sword and waiting. A few of the people nearer to her seem a little more unsettled as a second lightning draws a line down the sky and in the distance reaches the ground itself, but she figures it's only fear. It's only normal. But it's also something they'll have to work past right now, or any hope they may have will be lost.
Their enemy approaches, and she lifts her sword in the air, yells out a battle cry, another until they are all yelling alongside her, then together, they urge their horses into a gallop and charge forward, trampling whatever fear lingers and putting their hearts and minds to the edge of their swords.
It's a small village she's in right now, and the people are few, but what they fight for is no less important. Their crops, their cattle, their families and homes, those are things worth keeping, and Diana has taken part in many a great war before, but this is just as meaningful in her eye.
She should like for peaceful resolutions, but peace isn't always an option. Sometimes words have to give way to shield and sword, and that is why she's sitting on a horse right now, along with a few hundred armed warriors as well, waiting in heavy silence as they look on to the contour of the plains in the distance. Raindrops fall heavy on her face, roll down her cheeks, weigh down her hair, but she ignores that, her eyes never leaving the horizon as she waits.
She waits, and finally she sees them, the large group of bandits fast approaching them. They want the village, she knows, the prime position near the sea, and they don't care that they would be killing hundreds to manage that. That's the way of the world, and she's not naïve; the nature of Men hardly surprises her anymore.
A thunder cracks in the sky, but she barely blinks, drawing out her sword and waiting. A few of the people nearer to her seem a little more unsettled as a second lightning draws a line down the sky and in the distance reaches the ground itself, but she figures it's only fear. It's only normal. But it's also something they'll have to work past right now, or any hope they may have will be lost.
Their enemy approaches, and she lifts her sword in the air, yells out a battle cry, another until they are all yelling alongside her, then together, they urge their horses into a gallop and charge forward, trampling whatever fear lingers and putting their hearts and minds to the edge of their swords.
[{continuation.}]
[He's holding back, but he's still holding his own and no matter what she does, he meets her. At first, it only makes her angrier, but she isn't like him, and when the anger drains back into misery and stops short of fear, nothing changes. She keeps fighting anyway, fighting to stay submerged and fighting him.
Every time they meet now, it's that same strange something, that extra pull that sets her blood buzzing under her skin. It flicks against all the switches in her brain, lighting up more each time, and it's not what she wants even if the Hulk seems to feel the same effects, somehow waning in some unidentifiable way. His presence dims each time although he's still the brightest being, the densest body; the fragile space they move through bends around him a little less each time. It doesn't seem to stop him fighting, either.
Every time he's just as strong, every time he doesn't hit her, every time he looks at her with that infuriating expression and those too-knowing eyes, she pulls that much harder and comes that much closer to the hostile surface of awareness.
Betty's been gone for a long time. Not just since last night when shedied or last week when she changed. There's a span of years, a void the size of an entire lifetime, between the thing she is now and the self she's buried; every coherent thought she has flinches from it, but the contours of that negative shape are Betty too, and she can't hide behind the nothingness forever.]
[He's holding back, but he's still holding his own and no matter what she does, he meets her. At first, it only makes her angrier, but she isn't like him, and when the anger drains back into misery and stops short of fear, nothing changes. She keeps fighting anyway, fighting to stay submerged and fighting him.
Every time they meet now, it's that same strange something, that extra pull that sets her blood buzzing under her skin. It flicks against all the switches in her brain, lighting up more each time, and it's not what she wants even if the Hulk seems to feel the same effects, somehow waning in some unidentifiable way. His presence dims each time although he's still the brightest being, the densest body; the fragile space they move through bends around him a little less each time. It doesn't seem to stop him fighting, either.
Every time he's just as strong, every time he doesn't hit her, every time he looks at her with that infuriating expression and those too-knowing eyes, she pulls that much harder and comes that much closer to the hostile surface of awareness.
Betty's been gone for a long time. Not just since last night when she
[ He pushes and he will keep pushing, will keep fighting for as long as there's strength in him. And as far as he's aware, strength won't fail him anytime soon. When has it, after all? The beast is capable of going on and on for however long he needs or wants to, there's no reason to think that that may not be the case now.
Still, there's a strange wave of tiredness that very slowly seeps in through his pores, but he doesn't pay it any mind. He ascribes it to the fact that he's just fighting someone who's equally strong as he is, while usually his adversaries offer little or no opposition. Vaguely, he remembers— the Abomination was also pretty tiring to fight.
Suddenly, the Hulk stumbles. That's a new one. He's not sure how but he misses his footing and he falls back on the dirt, the red Hulk landing on top of him, fists closed. At the last second, he manages to catch her wrist and yank her away, roaring as he rolls them over, then jumps back onto his feet.
Then he shouts again, loud enough to make the very ground nearly shake, a foot stomping down and digging into the dirt. He's mad now, mad he's losing his focus, mad he's losing his grip, his strength— madder still that he doesn't know why, and he blames her entirely. ]
Still, there's a strange wave of tiredness that very slowly seeps in through his pores, but he doesn't pay it any mind. He ascribes it to the fact that he's just fighting someone who's equally strong as he is, while usually his adversaries offer little or no opposition. Vaguely, he remembers— the Abomination was also pretty tiring to fight.
Suddenly, the Hulk stumbles. That's a new one. He's not sure how but he misses his footing and he falls back on the dirt, the red Hulk landing on top of him, fists closed. At the last second, he manages to catch her wrist and yank her away, roaring as he rolls them over, then jumps back onto his feet.
Then he shouts again, loud enough to make the very ground nearly shake, a foot stomping down and digging into the dirt. He's mad now, mad he's losing his focus, mad he's losing his grip, his strength— madder still that he doesn't know why, and he blames her entirely. ]
( continued from here )
[ Jim looks far more casual than she herself does. Being back on Earth for a while means that he likes to stay out of uniforms whenever he can, and in this particular case, he's definitely not going to go out on a date dressed like a Starfleet captain.
So, he's in a pair of plain jeans and a worn leather jacket over a dark t-shirt, smile in place as he finds her waiting for him. Waving from afar, he walks up to her, looking her up and down briefly. ] I think... you might look too nice for the place I had in mind.
[ Jim looks far more casual than she herself does. Being back on Earth for a while means that he likes to stay out of uniforms whenever he can, and in this particular case, he's definitely not going to go out on a date dressed like a Starfleet captain.
So, he's in a pair of plain jeans and a worn leather jacket over a dark t-shirt, smile in place as he finds her waiting for him. Waving from afar, he walks up to her, looking her up and down briefly. ] I think... you might look too nice for the place I had in mind.
[ it's a little funny. elsa thought she was being more lowkey than she usually is, save for the charming heart shaped cut out in the back. immediately, she looks embarrassed when she sees him approach and lowers her head. ]
I'm sure it will be fine, [ she smiles up at him again once she has taken a moment to gather herself, hands folded behind her back. ] Where are we off to?
I'm sure it will be fine, [ she smiles up at him again once she has taken a moment to gather herself, hands folded behind her back. ] Where are we off to?
It was a miracle they'd gone this long without much of a hitch during their trip, to be honest. Out in the sea for long enough and every ship was bound to hit a storm eventually, but they'd managed a good, long while without so much as heavy rain or a rockier tide.
All things good came to an end, though, and to them it came rather abruptly too. They had seen the sun set that afternoon still, but then didn't see the moon climb too high in the sky, clouds quickly creeping up in the skies and hiding the stars Jim loved so much from view. What was at first only soft rain soon turned into cause for concern, as strong winds blew across the sails and waves rocked the ship more and more strongly.
But it was the distant sound of thunder that got the whole of the crew on alert.
They all had made their way through storms before, but Jim couldn't help worry anyway. He also had another reason to, this time around: Mary was on board now, and he had to assume she'd never lived through anything even remotely like this. So he told her to stay inside the cabin, and to hold on tight to something if the storm got too violent. He had a feeling it would, and that was about as safe as she could be.
Mind somewhat put to rest that he'd done all he could to make sure she'd be safe, Jim focused on leading the crew through the storm. They all knew their duties and they were highly skilled, but it still took a strong voice to carry out orders, and Jim had a near perfect timing when it came to situations like this. When to pull a rope, when to let it loose. Warning some of the younger crew members to duck when they were distracted or couldn't see well, and overall making sure the ship wouldn't tip over, no parts of it would break off, and that no crew members lost their balance and fell into the sea. They would be doomed to die if they did.
Rope tight around his arm, Jim was currently running across the deck, putting all his strength in holding down one of the sails. Capable of unusual strength, Spock managed the larger one on his own with incredible ease, but Jim still needed help, with Uhura holding down the best she could too, they all fighting against the maddening strength of the wind.
It was pitch dark by now too, with only the odd lightning outlining shapes every so often. Jim could barely see anything with the rain falling on his face too, but he knew the ship by heart. He could do this blindly, and he might just have to right now.
All things good came to an end, though, and to them it came rather abruptly too. They had seen the sun set that afternoon still, but then didn't see the moon climb too high in the sky, clouds quickly creeping up in the skies and hiding the stars Jim loved so much from view. What was at first only soft rain soon turned into cause for concern, as strong winds blew across the sails and waves rocked the ship more and more strongly.
But it was the distant sound of thunder that got the whole of the crew on alert.
They all had made their way through storms before, but Jim couldn't help worry anyway. He also had another reason to, this time around: Mary was on board now, and he had to assume she'd never lived through anything even remotely like this. So he told her to stay inside the cabin, and to hold on tight to something if the storm got too violent. He had a feeling it would, and that was about as safe as she could be.
Mind somewhat put to rest that he'd done all he could to make sure she'd be safe, Jim focused on leading the crew through the storm. They all knew their duties and they were highly skilled, but it still took a strong voice to carry out orders, and Jim had a near perfect timing when it came to situations like this. When to pull a rope, when to let it loose. Warning some of the younger crew members to duck when they were distracted or couldn't see well, and overall making sure the ship wouldn't tip over, no parts of it would break off, and that no crew members lost their balance and fell into the sea. They would be doomed to die if they did.
Rope tight around his arm, Jim was currently running across the deck, putting all his strength in holding down one of the sails. Capable of unusual strength, Spock managed the larger one on his own with incredible ease, but Jim still needed help, with Uhura holding down the best she could too, they all fighting against the maddening strength of the wind.
It was pitch dark by now too, with only the odd lightning outlining shapes every so often. Jim could barely see anything with the rain falling on his face too, but he knew the ship by heart. He could do this blindly, and he might just have to right now.
Being stuck in his cabin was fairly killing her. If Mary could have paced, she would have, but letting go of his desk usually meant that she would go sailing across the room as the boat pitched back and forth. She was a slight woman, so it didn't take much to move her to and fro. All of this waiting was terrible on her though. Not only was she worried about herself and the crew, she was intensely worried that something would happen to Jim. It was silly, really. Jim could handle himself and had done so in worse situations before, but that didn't stop her feelings. It was staying in the cabin and not knowing what was happening that bothered her the most.
If Mary was going to stay on this ship and be a pirate, well, she'd have to learn to help eventually, wouldn't she? She couldn't very well hide in the cabin while the crew tried to keep the boat upright. Holding onto the wall, Mary made her way over to the door of the cabin and then outside.
The wind whipped her hair into a frenzy and she struggled to remain upright as she looked for some way to help. It was dark except for the random flashes of lightning and she could hardly see where she was going. Mary looked for a rope to grab.
If Mary was going to stay on this ship and be a pirate, well, she'd have to learn to help eventually, wouldn't she? She couldn't very well hide in the cabin while the crew tried to keep the boat upright. Holding onto the wall, Mary made her way over to the door of the cabin and then outside.
The wind whipped her hair into a frenzy and she struggled to remain upright as she looked for some way to help. It was dark except for the random flashes of lightning and she could hardly see where she was going. Mary looked for a rope to grab.
[ continued from here ]
yea well we're also not supposed to see each other until the ceremony and I'm still gonna sleep in your bed
well our bed actually
mmmmm I miss you baby
yea well we're also not supposed to see each other until the ceremony and I'm still gonna sleep in your bed
well our bed actually
mmmmm I miss you baby
Ah. I see. You are clearly inebriated
[...]
Probably too much so to understand that word.
I miss you as well, Jim.
[...]
Probably too much so to understand that word.
I miss you as well, Jim.
The crew was docked on a small island that mostly consisted of natives and people doing black market dealings. Any "respectable" people there turned a blind eye. It was basically a pirate's playground. The Enterprise needed more supplies and Jim also had business to attend to with one of his "colleagues" there on the island.
After Jim had done his dealing and the sun had gone down, the crew was enjoying a bit of down time at the local bar. Mary was sitting in Jim's lap, her arms around his shoulders. Nobody at that point would have guessed her lineage. She was actually wearing pants, tight ones that Jim loved on her, and her corset on the outside to help push up the little bit of cleavage that she had. Her hair was down. She was full-on pirate that night and didn't give a damn. Mary snuggled in his lap, making it very clear to the room that she was his.
"So what deal did you make today?" she asked, fingers stroking idly over his chest.
After Jim had done his dealing and the sun had gone down, the crew was enjoying a bit of down time at the local bar. Mary was sitting in Jim's lap, her arms around his shoulders. Nobody at that point would have guessed her lineage. She was actually wearing pants, tight ones that Jim loved on her, and her corset on the outside to help push up the little bit of cleavage that she had. Her hair was down. She was full-on pirate that night and didn't give a damn. Mary snuggled in his lap, making it very clear to the room that she was his.
"So what deal did you make today?" she asked, fingers stroking idly over his chest.
His crew's dealings were fairly commonplace this time around. They weren't looking for anything too specific or unique, so they managed to not draw any unwanted attention, and with business matters taken care of, everyone was free to enjoy a couple of nights while on land. It wasn't every day that they docked on a fairly safe port for them to be at, after all.
Mary's attire wasn't as much of a surprise anymore. She had taken to wearing trousers more often as of late, after all, but there was still something special about tonight. Jim couldn't quite put his finger on what, whether it was her clothing choices or simply the way she acted, so uninhibited and free, not caring in the least about what other people might think. He felt mesmerized by her mere presence, not to mention very lucky that she was on his lap, that she was completely his.
"Food, some clothes, weapons, medicine..." he shrugged, dismissing the rest of a comprehensive but fairly common list of supplies they'd gathered. A hand settled on her leg, his other arm curled firmly around her waist. "New maps. They should prove useful."
Mary's attire wasn't as much of a surprise anymore. She had taken to wearing trousers more often as of late, after all, but there was still something special about tonight. Jim couldn't quite put his finger on what, whether it was her clothing choices or simply the way she acted, so uninhibited and free, not caring in the least about what other people might think. He felt mesmerized by her mere presence, not to mention very lucky that she was on his lap, that she was completely his.
"Food, some clothes, weapons, medicine..." he shrugged, dismissing the rest of a comprehensive but fairly common list of supplies they'd gathered. A hand settled on her leg, his other arm curled firmly around her waist. "New maps. They should prove useful."
[ continued from here ]
I'm so making a scene when I get there and walk in on you getting it on with that asshole.
I'm so making a scene when I get there and walk in on you getting it on with that asshole.
Jim didn't know what he was expecting when he formally asked for Mary's hand, but it turned out not being nearly as bad as he was preparing himself for. Granted, the reaction more than lived up to it— a resounding no right off the bat, accusations that he only was after their money, that no force on Heaven or Earth would be enough for the Earl to ever accept a marriage between his oldest daughter and a man like him.
Not that he knew the first thing about men like him, but Jim said nothing through it all, despite very much wanting to. The whole thing still lacked a certain kind of explosiveness that he was prepared for, but then again that might be because he was an American and they always did expect things to be a lot louder and more unrestrained. So at least in that aspect, it wasn't so bad.
As for the rest... well, Jim had promised Mary he wouldn't leave until he got her father to say yes, and he damn well meant it. And now that he knew she wanted to marry him too, there was no way in Hell he'd just turn around and leave now. Something that clearly frustrated the Earl to no end, but eventually he did buckle and at least accept that he wasn't going to get rid of the American so easily.
Jim also knew that Mary's mother, Cora, had taken a certain liking to him, and slowly had softened her husband to him. His title as captain and the decorations he'd received for his service in the war also seemed to work in his favor, just like learning that the Kirk family was far from poor, and that Jim himself had told him in all the words necessary that he'd never touch their money. He didn't need it, after all.
It was a slow process, but little by little he'd managed to get friendlier quips from the Earl, actual lasting conversations that didn't end up with Jim being asked to leave in some way or another. He'd even been asked for a drink and a cigar every so often, and while he wasn't a fan of hunts, he'd also agreed to join when he'd been invited, taking the chance to impress the Earl with his marksmanship. Wouldn't do any harm to his cause, at least.
On the way back to the house, he'd actually gotten a laugh out of the Earl, at some slightly inappropriate (and very American) story he'd shared. It had been a gamble to go with it, and he knew that had it been months ago he'd have been banned from the property for good, but he was immensely pleased to see that his unusual if somewhat brazen charm had slowly crawled its way into the Earl.
So, he looked more than happy with himself as he set his things aside, biting back the urge to ask the staff if they needed help with preparing lunch. He knew better than that, as different as things might've been back at his mom's farm. Instead he washed up and came out to the gardens in search of Mary, while they all waited for lunch to be ready— and as he found her talking with her mother, he made his way over with a smile, bowing his head a little at Cora.
"Mind if I steal your daughter away for a little while?"
Not that he knew the first thing about men like him, but Jim said nothing through it all, despite very much wanting to. The whole thing still lacked a certain kind of explosiveness that he was prepared for, but then again that might be because he was an American and they always did expect things to be a lot louder and more unrestrained. So at least in that aspect, it wasn't so bad.
As for the rest... well, Jim had promised Mary he wouldn't leave until he got her father to say yes, and he damn well meant it. And now that he knew she wanted to marry him too, there was no way in Hell he'd just turn around and leave now. Something that clearly frustrated the Earl to no end, but eventually he did buckle and at least accept that he wasn't going to get rid of the American so easily.
Jim also knew that Mary's mother, Cora, had taken a certain liking to him, and slowly had softened her husband to him. His title as captain and the decorations he'd received for his service in the war also seemed to work in his favor, just like learning that the Kirk family was far from poor, and that Jim himself had told him in all the words necessary that he'd never touch their money. He didn't need it, after all.
It was a slow process, but little by little he'd managed to get friendlier quips from the Earl, actual lasting conversations that didn't end up with Jim being asked to leave in some way or another. He'd even been asked for a drink and a cigar every so often, and while he wasn't a fan of hunts, he'd also agreed to join when he'd been invited, taking the chance to impress the Earl with his marksmanship. Wouldn't do any harm to his cause, at least.
On the way back to the house, he'd actually gotten a laugh out of the Earl, at some slightly inappropriate (and very American) story he'd shared. It had been a gamble to go with it, and he knew that had it been months ago he'd have been banned from the property for good, but he was immensely pleased to see that his unusual if somewhat brazen charm had slowly crawled its way into the Earl.
So, he looked more than happy with himself as he set his things aside, biting back the urge to ask the staff if they needed help with preparing lunch. He knew better than that, as different as things might've been back at his mom's farm. Instead he washed up and came out to the gardens in search of Mary, while they all waited for lunch to be ready— and as he found her talking with her mother, he made his way over with a smile, bowing his head a little at Cora.
"Mind if I steal your daughter away for a little while?"
Mary had been working on her father as well, contrasting his persistent approach with her logical one. Marrying Jim made some amount of sense, at least according to her. Robert didn't quite see it that way. Marrying a Lord could forge an alliance between families. Unfortunately even Mary's father was starting to see that it was a lost cause. His daughter was in love. And rather than alienate her like he had Sybil, he would prefer to try and keep her around. Thus, he was doing his best to warm up to the sometimes brash American.
Mary positively grinned when Jim approached her and Cora gave him a friendly smile. "I believe she's already quite stolen," Cora replied, "but I don't mind at all."
Mary slipped her hand in the crook of Jim's arm as they walked off together. "How was your ride?"
Mary positively grinned when Jim approached her and Cora gave him a friendly smile. "I believe she's already quite stolen," Cora replied, "but I don't mind at all."
Mary slipped her hand in the crook of Jim's arm as they walked off together. "How was your ride?"
The wait was not all that long, surprisingly. When Jim had first asked for Mary's hand, he had been perfectly convinced that it would take a very long time to get her father to accept it and give his blessing, but in less than a year, the Earl had announced just what Jim had hoped to hear all that while.
Jim couldn't have been happier, and he knew Mary shared in that sentiment. After the official announcement, the next few months went by in a flurry of activity, and Jim found himself surprisingly busy with the preparations. He'd have never guessed that so much work went into preparing a wedding, honestly, and he was caught a little off-guard. But he didn't regret it, not even for a single moment.
His mother and friends had crossed the ocean to join them too, and Jim had been all too happy that Mary finally got to meet them all. No doubt they were all a little unique to her, and while Jim had told her all about them, he knew that it wasn't the same as meeting them in the flesh.
But it had gone well. More than well, actually, and thinking back, Jim could barely remember the days leading up to the wedding, the flutter of nerves that made him almost too sick to even eat. All he could remember was how beautiful Mary looked when his eyes landed on her in her wedding dress, and how he practically couldn't look away for the entirety of the ceremony and the party that followed. Even his mother and Bones had made casual remarks about how obviously taken he was, but honestly Jim couldn't care less that they were teasing him. He was happier than he could ever remember being, and he wanted everyone at that party to know just that.
His cottage was small and simple by comparison, but Jim had made sure that it was prepared for their wedding night, making it a point to be personally involved. It was decorated simply but there was a soft sweet scent of flowers in the air, the fireplace having been lit up earlier to make sure it was warm during the night, and the lights dim. The bed had been made with the softest sheets he could find, the fluffy pillows and covers almost making it look like a cloud.
Jim couldn't help just a hint of nervousness as they reached the cottage, finally left alone for the first time since the ceremony. He held her hand in his as he opened the door, then waited for her to step inside first.
Jim couldn't have been happier, and he knew Mary shared in that sentiment. After the official announcement, the next few months went by in a flurry of activity, and Jim found himself surprisingly busy with the preparations. He'd have never guessed that so much work went into preparing a wedding, honestly, and he was caught a little off-guard. But he didn't regret it, not even for a single moment.
His mother and friends had crossed the ocean to join them too, and Jim had been all too happy that Mary finally got to meet them all. No doubt they were all a little unique to her, and while Jim had told her all about them, he knew that it wasn't the same as meeting them in the flesh.
But it had gone well. More than well, actually, and thinking back, Jim could barely remember the days leading up to the wedding, the flutter of nerves that made him almost too sick to even eat. All he could remember was how beautiful Mary looked when his eyes landed on her in her wedding dress, and how he practically couldn't look away for the entirety of the ceremony and the party that followed. Even his mother and Bones had made casual remarks about how obviously taken he was, but honestly Jim couldn't care less that they were teasing him. He was happier than he could ever remember being, and he wanted everyone at that party to know just that.
His cottage was small and simple by comparison, but Jim had made sure that it was prepared for their wedding night, making it a point to be personally involved. It was decorated simply but there was a soft sweet scent of flowers in the air, the fireplace having been lit up earlier to make sure it was warm during the night, and the lights dim. The bed had been made with the softest sheets he could find, the fluffy pillows and covers almost making it look like a cloud.
Jim couldn't help just a hint of nervousness as they reached the cottage, finally left alone for the first time since the ceremony. He held her hand in his as he opened the door, then waited for her to step inside first.
The wedding had been beautiful. Perfect, actually. It was everything that she had wanted. The whole village was celebrating the marriage of the eldest daughter of the Earl and she had never been happier in her life.
Mary had loved meeting Jim's mother and friends and found them to be eclectic, but kind, and very loyal to Jim. She wondered how he might be able to get along without having them close by, though he had been living in England for almost a year now and had adjusted to the lifestyle.
After the wedding, they returned to his cottage, which was small, but felt quite homey. Mary squeezed his hand as she walked in. He'd decorated for the occasion and it made her smile. It looked incredibly cozy and inviting. She was still in her wedding dress, which she presumed would be laid over a chair very soon. The idea of sleeping with him made her both nervous and excited. She turned to Jim and pressed her lips to his.
"It looks beautiful."
Mary had loved meeting Jim's mother and friends and found them to be eclectic, but kind, and very loyal to Jim. She wondered how he might be able to get along without having them close by, though he had been living in England for almost a year now and had adjusted to the lifestyle.
After the wedding, they returned to his cottage, which was small, but felt quite homey. Mary squeezed his hand as she walked in. He'd decorated for the occasion and it made her smile. It looked incredibly cozy and inviting. She was still in her wedding dress, which she presumed would be laid over a chair very soon. The idea of sleeping with him made her both nervous and excited. She turned to Jim and pressed her lips to his.
"It looks beautiful."
Jim kind of winged it, honestly.
He wasn't even sure what he was going to say yet, as he took a transporter across the country to find Bones's ex-wife. He had no plan, no course of action, no speech prepared— this was about as spontaneous and as unplanned as could be, and of course it had James T. Kirk written all over it.
When he'd knocked on her door, he'd been fully prepared for surprise, shock, maybe a trace of hostility once she knew who he was and why he was there, as well as a complete refusal to even talk to him, let alone let him in. What he didn't expect, although he really should have, was recognition. The shock on Jocelyn's face was only trumped by the evident amazement that Captain James T. Kirk himself was standing at her door. Apparently the multiple times he'd risked himself to save people came first and foremost, and at first she didn't even seem to care that he was Bones's Captain, best friend and, though at first unknown to her, boyfriend.
Well, he'd take what he could get. He seized that opportunity and got her to agree to let him in before she recovered from the shock, and from there on out... it was all down to his charm and diplomatic skills.
He didn't even remember exactly what he said, but he did know he mentioned how Bones had been doing, constantly reminding himself to use his first name rather than the nickname he had for him. He brought up points that Jocelyn herself had to be aware of by now: how much Joanna loved her father, how badly they missed each other, how forcing them to be apart was nearly cruel. Last but not least, he pointed out that doing this would only make Joanna bitter towards her, how he bet that she was already acting out because Jocelyn wouldn't let her see his father.
They were only there for a few months, until the holidays were over. So what was so wrong with letting her stay a week or two with them, right? Joanna would definitely appreciate it, and likely would be grateful that her mother would allow her that time with her father.
Jim made the whole trip back still in shock and awe that he had managed this. With a small travel bag in one hand and a thirteen year-old girl holding the other, he could feel his heart pounding with excitement as he made his way back to the flat after what Bones thought was a whole day of boring meetings at Starfleet headquarters, and he held his breath in as he opened the door and let Joanna go in first.
The look on Bones's face was priceless. Jim had never seen the doctor so stunned, and for a moment he actually worried he might pass out. But he didn't. He held his daughter in his arms instead, and grinned and laughed more than Jim could ever remember. It only got better when he was told that she'd be staying a couple of weeks, and at that point Jim was actually wondering when Bones would start to cry.
The rest of the day went by quickly. They only had time to make some dinner, watch a movie, and after she fell asleep on the couch halfway through, he let Bones take her to the bed in the guest room and tuck her in, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, quietly watching the two of them, his smile fond and gaze warm with admiration and affection.
He wasn't even sure what he was going to say yet, as he took a transporter across the country to find Bones's ex-wife. He had no plan, no course of action, no speech prepared— this was about as spontaneous and as unplanned as could be, and of course it had James T. Kirk written all over it.
When he'd knocked on her door, he'd been fully prepared for surprise, shock, maybe a trace of hostility once she knew who he was and why he was there, as well as a complete refusal to even talk to him, let alone let him in. What he didn't expect, although he really should have, was recognition. The shock on Jocelyn's face was only trumped by the evident amazement that Captain James T. Kirk himself was standing at her door. Apparently the multiple times he'd risked himself to save people came first and foremost, and at first she didn't even seem to care that he was Bones's Captain, best friend and, though at first unknown to her, boyfriend.
Well, he'd take what he could get. He seized that opportunity and got her to agree to let him in before she recovered from the shock, and from there on out... it was all down to his charm and diplomatic skills.
He didn't even remember exactly what he said, but he did know he mentioned how Bones had been doing, constantly reminding himself to use his first name rather than the nickname he had for him. He brought up points that Jocelyn herself had to be aware of by now: how much Joanna loved her father, how badly they missed each other, how forcing them to be apart was nearly cruel. Last but not least, he pointed out that doing this would only make Joanna bitter towards her, how he bet that she was already acting out because Jocelyn wouldn't let her see his father.
They were only there for a few months, until the holidays were over. So what was so wrong with letting her stay a week or two with them, right? Joanna would definitely appreciate it, and likely would be grateful that her mother would allow her that time with her father.
Jim made the whole trip back still in shock and awe that he had managed this. With a small travel bag in one hand and a thirteen year-old girl holding the other, he could feel his heart pounding with excitement as he made his way back to the flat after what Bones thought was a whole day of boring meetings at Starfleet headquarters, and he held his breath in as he opened the door and let Joanna go in first.
The look on Bones's face was priceless. Jim had never seen the doctor so stunned, and for a moment he actually worried he might pass out. But he didn't. He held his daughter in his arms instead, and grinned and laughed more than Jim could ever remember. It only got better when he was told that she'd be staying a couple of weeks, and at that point Jim was actually wondering when Bones would start to cry.
The rest of the day went by quickly. They only had time to make some dinner, watch a movie, and after she fell asleep on the couch halfway through, he let Bones take her to the bed in the guest room and tuck her in, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, quietly watching the two of them, his smile fond and gaze warm with admiration and affection.
Leonard long got used to Jim being dragged away for stupid meetings. To be quite honest, he decided they did it just to antagonize their youngest captain in the fleet no matter how many great things he did. On the other had, he just accepted most of it as a part of life. He just hoped he never had to be face to face with any of the Admiralty that did give Jim hell. He honestly didn't know what he'd do to them if they pulled their sass around him.
Instead, he spent the morning turning in reports to Starfleet Medical. Best get them all done now whem Jim was busy than take up time later. He liked order and structure and he got them done quickly. Boyce had been right pleased with his work and told him to get out and enjoy his time off. Something he wasn't all that used to. So he'd spent the afternoon buying food and planning out meals he could cook for Jim and do somethin' domestic. Like make dinner before Jim got home. It struck him a funny concept at first, but he figured it would get easier to picture once he actually got it done.
So when he was mostly done with dinner, he heard the door slide open and came out to meet him. Well, more like shock ten years off his life. At first he couldn't tell if it was good or bad. Just that a little girl he'd not seen in near eight years was standin' there in front of the love of his life and his life turned on its side. All he could do was catch her in his arms and hug her for all he was worth. Joanna looked even bigger, older now that she was right in front of him. She was damn near the prettiest girl in the universe to him and he would fight anyone that said different. But that was the pride of a father, too.
At least he'd made enough for them all for dinner. And he was damn sure glad he'd planned ahead so he could spend more time with her. The day went too fast and, god help him, he wanted to stretch the time out longer and further. When he finally put her to bed, he stood over her, fingers softly smoothing her hair out of her face before he pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft butterfly kiss. The second was left in her hair before he pushed to his feet. Standing there a long moment to just watch her sleep, he finally ran a hand through his hair and turned on his heel.
Finding Jim standing there silhouetted in the doorframe sent a roar of conflicting emotions raging through him until he couldn't stand still any longer. Crossing the room in determined long strides, both hands moved up to catch the blonde's face between them before he pulled the other closer to kiss him hard. It wasn't so much desire as pure love and passion pouring into that kiss as he fully intended to steal the breath from his lungs. He didn't have the words but he needed to kiss him. Show him just how many emotions were boiling over in his head.
Eyes closed, he pressed their foreheads together and stood with only a few inches between them as he breathed in shakily. "Damn it, Jim... what if something went wrong? What if Joce decided she didn't like you meddlin'?" He didn't want an answer. Didn't need one. He felt slightly angered by his lover's ridiculous impulsive nature but he couldn't stay mad at him. Not right now.
His fingers moved to slip into the blonde hair smoothing it back and through his fingers before smoothing about to cup his jaw again. The moment he opened his eyes he knew he'd hit his absolute quota for the decade on what emotions he could keep steady in his chest when the hot moisture rolled down his face freely. "And then you go and pull off another damned stunt like this. Just when I don't think you can surprise me anymore than you already have or that I couldn't love your crazy ass more than I already do." He knew he was going on and on now...
But this? How did anyone deal with this in a sane coherent way?
Even if Jim had messed up. Even if Jocelyn had cut him off because of Jim being so ridiculously brave and hopeful. He'd still love him. Still stay with him with that unerring faithfulness he always had. But it didn't go that way. He let out a huff of a laugh that made more tears run down his face and he started to pull away to just... get rid of them. ""Always make me a damned fine mess, ya know that?"
Instead, he spent the morning turning in reports to Starfleet Medical. Best get them all done now whem Jim was busy than take up time later. He liked order and structure and he got them done quickly. Boyce had been right pleased with his work and told him to get out and enjoy his time off. Something he wasn't all that used to. So he'd spent the afternoon buying food and planning out meals he could cook for Jim and do somethin' domestic. Like make dinner before Jim got home. It struck him a funny concept at first, but he figured it would get easier to picture once he actually got it done.
So when he was mostly done with dinner, he heard the door slide open and came out to meet him. Well, more like shock ten years off his life. At first he couldn't tell if it was good or bad. Just that a little girl he'd not seen in near eight years was standin' there in front of the love of his life and his life turned on its side. All he could do was catch her in his arms and hug her for all he was worth. Joanna looked even bigger, older now that she was right in front of him. She was damn near the prettiest girl in the universe to him and he would fight anyone that said different. But that was the pride of a father, too.
At least he'd made enough for them all for dinner. And he was damn sure glad he'd planned ahead so he could spend more time with her. The day went too fast and, god help him, he wanted to stretch the time out longer and further. When he finally put her to bed, he stood over her, fingers softly smoothing her hair out of her face before he pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft butterfly kiss. The second was left in her hair before he pushed to his feet. Standing there a long moment to just watch her sleep, he finally ran a hand through his hair and turned on his heel.
Finding Jim standing there silhouetted in the doorframe sent a roar of conflicting emotions raging through him until he couldn't stand still any longer. Crossing the room in determined long strides, both hands moved up to catch the blonde's face between them before he pulled the other closer to kiss him hard. It wasn't so much desire as pure love and passion pouring into that kiss as he fully intended to steal the breath from his lungs. He didn't have the words but he needed to kiss him. Show him just how many emotions were boiling over in his head.
Eyes closed, he pressed their foreheads together and stood with only a few inches between them as he breathed in shakily. "Damn it, Jim... what if something went wrong? What if Joce decided she didn't like you meddlin'?" He didn't want an answer. Didn't need one. He felt slightly angered by his lover's ridiculous impulsive nature but he couldn't stay mad at him. Not right now.
His fingers moved to slip into the blonde hair smoothing it back and through his fingers before smoothing about to cup his jaw again. The moment he opened his eyes he knew he'd hit his absolute quota for the decade on what emotions he could keep steady in his chest when the hot moisture rolled down his face freely. "And then you go and pull off another damned stunt like this. Just when I don't think you can surprise me anymore than you already have or that I couldn't love your crazy ass more than I already do." He knew he was going on and on now...
But this? How did anyone deal with this in a sane coherent way?
Even if Jim had messed up. Even if Jocelyn had cut him off because of Jim being so ridiculously brave and hopeful. He'd still love him. Still stay with him with that unerring faithfulness he always had. But it didn't go that way. He let out a huff of a laugh that made more tears run down his face and he started to pull away to just... get rid of them. ""Always make me a damned fine mess, ya know that?"
( continued from here )
Maybe you ought to slap me, [ He murmurs, letting out a gasp when she bites his earlobe, partly wishing she'd bite down harder. His hand slides farther up, fingers curling and digging lightly into the warm flesh of her inner thigh. ] Maybe I'll even enjoy it a little, you never know.
Maybe you ought to slap me, [ He murmurs, letting out a gasp when she bites his earlobe, partly wishing she'd bite down harder. His hand slides farther up, fingers curling and digging lightly into the warm flesh of her inner thigh. ] Maybe I'll even enjoy it a little, you never know.
haha I was gonna move it to my open post just to spare yours
thequitecontrary
2016-12-07 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
I doubt I would be the first woman to slap you. [She sucks on his earlobe, then nibbles a bit harder when she feels his hand slide up her thigh.] But I would much rather ride you. Is that what you want? Right here in your chair, Captain?
[They had talked about it in the past but it didn't actually come to fruition until now. Her fingers move down to the button on his pants.]
[They had talked about it in the past but it didn't actually come to fruition until now. Her fingers move down to the button on his pants.]
( continued from here )
:) <3
Aren't you always? I like that about you a lot, actually. And don't worry, I'll make sure to tell you when I think of something.
By all means, do the same if you get some crazy idea.
:) <3
Aren't you always? I like that about you a lot, actually. And don't worry, I'll make sure to tell you when I think of something.
By all means, do the same if you get some crazy idea.
( continued from here )
[ Jim could always count on the good doctor to be all grumpy about pretty much anything, which right now came in a little handy. However, sooner or later they'd have to face the music, and at this point it seemed better to do it sooner rather than when they had a small audience of sickbay staff and possibly other crew members watching them. ]
Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy. You know something? I'm an excellent kisser. I come highly recommended.
[ No he didn't. But he was just really trying to diffuse the tension while easing them onto the topic of them kissing. Because that was going to be a thing.
He raised an eyebrow, shrugging at Bones. ] Could be worse. You could be stuck with Spock.
[ Jim could always count on the good doctor to be all grumpy about pretty much anything, which right now came in a little handy. However, sooner or later they'd have to face the music, and at this point it seemed better to do it sooner rather than when they had a small audience of sickbay staff and possibly other crew members watching them. ]
Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy. You know something? I'm an excellent kisser. I come highly recommended.
[ No he didn't. But he was just really trying to diffuse the tension while easing them onto the topic of them kissing. Because that was going to be a thing.
He raised an eyebrow, shrugging at Bones. ] Could be worse. You could be stuck with Spock.
[ They probably already had the beginnings of a small audience forming in the interior of sickbay. With the way Bones' voice carried, it wouldn't be a forgone conclusion. Not that the doctor was eager to turn his head around to check.
That would only make things worse. ]
I think I'd rather die. [ And he didn't feel any different in this instance either. Though he can't imagine Jim would allow that. He tried to ignore the man's egoistic comments as much as he could but there was no denying that the thought made him nervous. His weight shuffled from one foot to the other, looking a bit anxious for a moment before he finally squared up and answered sarcastically, ]
I'm actually kind of surprised that this barrier could even fit around that big head of yours. You alright? Is it gettin' too tight for you?
That would only make things worse. ]
I think I'd rather die. [ And he didn't feel any different in this instance either. Though he can't imagine Jim would allow that. He tried to ignore the man's egoistic comments as much as he could but there was no denying that the thought made him nervous. His weight shuffled from one foot to the other, looking a bit anxious for a moment before he finally squared up and answered sarcastically, ]
I'm actually kind of surprised that this barrier could even fit around that big head of yours. You alright? Is it gettin' too tight for you?
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