Feb. 16th, 2012

goodsoldier: (Default)
[personal profile] goodsoldier
Who: Barbara Gordon and Jason Todd
What: saying hello
Where: Barbara's residence in Brock Marsh
When: late morning
Notes: "hey I'm alive want to join my secret club"
Warnings: probable FEELINGS

Although he'd told Rex he'd have Barbara contact him, Jason had not even spoken with Barbara; he had no idea if Barbara would even want to talk to him, let alone have anything to do with any of his vague plans. He'd been acting on instinct, drawing on the one resource he'd been so reluctant to draw on until now. He didn't care to count the years that separated them. In many ways, he'd come to assume that her silence was more meaningful than his. He had the files Talia had given him, and Barbara had herself as Oracle. They could have both made contact at any time. But Barbara didn't know he knew. If she never contacted him, it must be deliberate.

Then again, one of the reasons he'd made his move in Gotham at the exact time he did was because of two people exiting the city: Cassandra Cain, and Barbara. Their collective absence was the only thing that had allowed him to run wild like he had — that and Bruce's unwillingness to believe the truth. What (if anything) she read into that, Jason couldn't know.

It is not right, it is not fair, for him to swing by after a long night out, to sit on her doorstep and drink coffee and think about how he kind of needs to shave. But she must know that he's like this already, even if she doesn't know he's in the city. There aren't cameras everywhere in Baedal like there were in Pseudo New York; there, she'd sent Cassandra to him so he could serve as a warning, as an example. An educational tool for the family member Barbara wanted to keep, he'd decided, and did not resent that. It had given him a chance to make his case to Cass, though in the end, it served Barbara's purposes.

He had been relatively incautious about tracking Stephanie, but he's been much more wary of surveying Barbara. There's only been a few glimpses here and there, always at a distance. He thinks he probably should have stopped at the apartment and shaved. It's a ridiculous thought. He's here because he's pretty sure she'll have finished this morning's tutoring session and may head home from there, so fuck shaving, at least he brought her some coffee. Hopefully she'll be back before it gets cold. Hopefully she'll actually talk to him. Hopefully she may even let him inside. Hope is stupid, like him; neither of them will stay down, and he can't tell whether this decision to approach her is stupidity, instinct, hope, or both.
orionis: (but we're never gonna survive)
[personal profile] orionis
Who: Bellatrix Black, Ilde Decima, Anna Demirovna, Evan Rosier, and OPEN.
What: Drinks, tea, possibly more?
Where: Lost Society, Malfoy Townhouse, other locations negotiable.
When: Various.
Notes: I have some specific threads here, but they're by no means limiting. If you have something in mind, please feel free to tag in as your little heart desires, or contact me if you have details you'd like to work out.
Warnings: Most likely language. And bad decisions.


what a place to come from )
quiescence: (● fuck mornings)
[personal profile] quiescence
Who: Felicia and YOU.
What: Come get your hair done or come talk to her or come be stared at her funnily because she dreamed about you and you did bad things (SUP WOLFGANG)
Where: The Best Little Hair House, other locations as you please
When: Misdi-Sukkardi at the salon, any other time anywhere else
Warnings: Bubbly personality? Language? TBA


For as much as she fakes it until she makes it, there are just some days where Felicia honestly doesn't have the energy to act like she has the energy to do anything. The dreams have been especially vivid since she's arrived in Baedal, more so than usual, and they all bother her. None of them are nice dreams, dreams about love and living life to the fullest. They're all filled with unspeakable horrors of faces both familiar and unfamiliar to her. She doesn't know where her subconscious stops and other people's start.

It exhausts her, and Felicia would give anything for an uninterrupted night's sleep. But sleeping bodies don't get fed and neither do angry landlords, so she manages to train herself into swallowing coffee strong enough that a spoon can stand easily upright in until she can make it out of the house and down to the salon. Maybe some bright sunshine or a chilly breeze will wake her up on the way over while she picks up some groceries. Maybe it won't. Maybe the cow will be happy to see her today. Maybe it won't.

No, it definitely won't. Mentos just wants its hay. Greedy cow.

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