ἰόν

[bossymarmalade]

spans the time from Ollie discovering Kate is a double agent, to the conclusion of the last Eden Corps Horseman attack.

——————-

Kyle hied himself to the Watchtower, where his ring indicated that Hal was located. Really? Hal didn’t come aboard the space station unless it was absolutely necessary, as far as Kyle knew, so this was a little odd. He let the ring track and it led him to…Ollie Queen’s quarters in the personal quadrant. Ah. That made a bit more sense.

Standing the hallway, Kyle looked around, waiting for a couple minutes. He figured that Hal was probably letting Ollie know he was being called off-planet, or whatever. But he didn’t want to ping Hal that he had arrived…that would be rude. So instead he headed to the cafeteria and got a fountain cola, returning to the quarters and leaning on a hallway wall outside of Queen’s room. It was the least Kyle could do to wait, and he mulled over why the hell the Guardians wanted to speak to him and Hal, but not the other two. There was no real rhyme or reason to it. Typical Guardians.

“C’mon guys, wrap it up,” he murmured around his straw and then realized it was highly likely that Hal was doing this on purpose. No love lost between the once-fallen Lantern and the blue smurfs, after all. At that thought, Kyle relaxed a little bit. Why /should/ they ask ‘how high’ when the Guardian’s said ‘jump’? Let them wait. Lanterns deserved a bit of personal living, after everything they dedicated to the Corps. It might not be their right, but it was deserved, anyway.

Anyway. Kyle resisted the urge to check the time, and waited some more.

Hal’s ring had flagged Kyle’s proximity the second he’d stepped on board. At least that was one less thing he had to worry about. It took a few more minutes for him to pry himself away from Oliver and finally leave the room, giving Kyle a slap on the hip for his trouble.

“Alright alright, come on,” he said, smiling at him and nodding toward the transport rooms. “Let’s get going.”

( polarity )

superfamily

[bossymarmalade]

The Kents’ apartment in Metropolis echoes with the banging of a hammer on an oak bedframe as Clark hastens to assemble the bunk beds in Billy’s room before Conner’s arrival. The apartment only has two bedrooms, and Clark hopes Conner doesn’t mind sharing with Billy while he spends the weekend. He tosses the tools aside and gives the structure a firm shake to test its stability, finding it solid. Stability is just what Billy needs, has been needing for a long time, and Clark and Zee are happy to be the ones to provide it.

Clark begins making the bottom bed with the linens they picked out. “Billy! Come here, please,” he calls over his shoulder, and he grins to himself when he hears little socked feet padding across the carpet toward him. “What do you think?” he asks with a sweep of his hand, stepping back so Billy can take in the pale wood frame and deep blue sheets adorned with rockets and constellations. “Wait one minute, now. You can’t make a quality assessment from down here on the floor, can you?”

With a roar like one of the rockets on Billy’s bed, Clark scoops the little boy up and tosses him upon the mattress on the top bunk. “Biiiii-llyyyyy!” he calls, cupping his hands around his mouth and squinting as if he can’t quite see him well anymore. “How’s the view way up there?”

It’s perfect.

( a sort of homecoming )

the prophets' song

[bossymarmalade]

As soon as the others headed for the zeta tubes, Dick immediately got to work, calling out orders for Bette to type as he went. Their medical team had finished making up the cure for the infected livestock, so Green Lantern Stewart was sent out with a civilian medical team to handle that. As Bette kept contact with the Arlington team, Dick was distracted by deluge of reports of mourners and workers suddenly attacked by the dead rising up from their graves. This was not as controlled as they had hoped.

“Bette, pull up all reports together. There must be something causing them and we need to figure that out to stop it.”

“On it.” Her fingers typed over the keys, the data appearing on the screens before them. With another few keystrokes, she transferred them to holographic screens in reach of Dick. He’d be able to use his burned and bandaged hands on those, at least.

“Looks like three reports, similar to Arlington Cemetery: Ireland, Zaire, and The Netherlands. Two of the locations reported strange energy bolts striking the area minutes before the first reanimated corpses appeared.” Predicting Dick’s next question, she added, “I’ll see if I can trace the bolts’ point of origin. Can you dispatch teams?”

( command )

war grave

[bossymarmalade]

The Government of Canada has a solitary person in their employ whose only job description is to travel the world, personally inspecting the condition of war grave sites of Canadian servicemen buried abroad, and arranging for their repair or upkeep. In his time, Matthew Baker had found burial grounds in every condition: from occupation by squatters to weeds growing out of control, from moss obscuring the markers to filth or garbage being dumped, and from minor lack of maintenance to outright desecration.

In all the 22 years Mr. Baker had been working at this unique job, never once did he have to inspect a Canadian war grave site in The Netherlands. Such was their respect and honour of the WWII soldiers who emancipated their country from the Nazis, that even during the worst droughts, the grass grew green and flowers bloomed atop graves whose headstones bore the maple leaf.

The bolt hit the Groesbeek Canadian War Cemetery from out of a cloudless sky, and within minutes, these servicemen who died on Dutch soil now walked it again, their uniforms still recognizable. Even many of their regimental identifiers were legible. Hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers and airmen of every rank crawled up out of the ground, and began to move towards the main entry gate.

( do not go softly )

keep your ion the lantern

[bossymarmalade]

[ Ring Txt ] Is Casa Verde considered neutral territory? If not, the Watchtower is fine. Probably somewhere away from food, because then I’ll get distracted. Hal wasn’t just ticked off at you, it was more a…blanket of irritation. ;)
[Ring Txt] Neutral territory? Awwww, Kyle we’re not at war. =( This is still your home too, and no matter where I live you’re always welcome. Dick’s just left for work so it’s just me and Ribbit here. I’ll put some coffee on.

Kyle was about to text back but then realized how dumb that would be. Hal had already gone to work as well, and so Kyle decided to postpone his artwork just a bit longer (just a bit! He’d pull an all-nighter if he had to) and he flew back to Venice Beach, landing on the rooftop and making enough noise so Guy knew he’d arrived.

“Hey mano…” Kyle said, trotting down the stairs. The living room and kitchen was now empty, just him and Guy. But Kyle could still see the others, where they were sitting, or pacing, or whatever - like shadows on a stage.

This time, the only ones here were Guy, himself…and Ribbit. Kyle scooped the rabbit up from the couch, kissing its soft fur head. ”So…” Kyle looked a little hopefully at Guy. “I’ll…let you start? Should I? I don’t think the Guardians have written up any SoPs for this sort of situation. And they’re supposed to know everything, pshaw.”

( green time )

so we beat on

[bossymarmalade]

“Ollie?”

Hal had sent a message earlier, so he just let himself into the Arrow home, poking his head in the door to announce himself, see where Oliver was.

“Hey, Hal.” Ollie didn’t bother getting up from the couch, idly re-reading The Stand. Not paying attention much, but that was the reason for picking up a book he knew half by heart. Too many thoughts distracting him to attempt focusing on something new. “I’m in here. Grab me a drink on your way in, wouldja?”

“Well glad you’re happy to see me,” Hal said, chuckling. He grabbed a couple of drinks, carrying them over. Leaned over the back of the couch and kissed Ollie’s cheek, handing him a beer before taking a seat himself. “So…how are things?’

The beer was welcome and Ollie popped it open and took a long slurp before scrunching up a side of his face at Hal’s question. “Passable,” he said after a moment. “Working through things. How about you? This second round of Eden Corps was stressful, but whatever those little blue nightcrawlers had you doing was probably on the shitty side as well, I’m guessing.”

“I’ll get to them. Managed to piss them off again, you’d be proud.” He chuckled, taking a long drink from his own beer. He got up and moved over to side next to him, putting an arm around him. “Something’s wrong. What happened while I was away?”

( against the tide )

to the moon

[bossymarmalade]

Kyle: *looks for Hal*

Hal: *sitting on the moon, legs up to his chest, just a speck of green against white*

Kyle: *flies up in front of him, hovering for a moment* Hal…

Hal: Come to wait for me to lose my mind like everyone else? *won’t even look at him*

Kyle: *makes a noise* Don’t be ridiculous.

Hal: …I’m sorry. *half chokes, hiding his head against his knees*

Kyle: *alarmed* Hal…! *kneels in front of him, stroking his hair* I only felt what happened, when you…when you got upset at him…what?

Hal: *unfolds himself and almsot falls against Kyle’s chest* Oliver…He thinks I…He thinks I’m going to lose it. Just like the others

Kyle: *holds his head, cradling him* Dios salvame. Hal, I’m sorry…*sees the specks of blood on Hal’s hand* …you punched him?

( bang, zoom )

house call

[bossymarmalade]

The autumn breezes in Bludhaven don’t carry the same bite as the gusts that howl through Gotham at this time of the year. Damian notes the difference in temperature as he wheels his suitcase down the sidewalk to Grayson’s building, pressing the intercom until Grayson buzzes him upstairs.

It’s appalling, really, what a poor job Grayson does of caring for himself. Damian can’t understand why Father hasn’t insisted on moving Grayson back to the Manor permanently. Clearly he needs constant guidance and supervision, but Damian will have to provide what he can during his visit. “Hello, Grayson,” he greets him as the door swings open. Damian moves past him and into the apartment, leaving his suitcase in the foyer and carrying a small cooler to the kitchen.

“I brought several containers of Pennyworth’s soup,” he announces, opening the refrigerator to store them. “You musn’t eat anything else until you’re fully recovered. That means no cereal.”

Damian shoots a stern look over his shoulder, a look that brooks no dissent.

( napoleon complex )

endless rain into a paper cup

[bossymarmalade]

The onset of cooler weather plus the topsy-turvy events of late made it harder to get up in the morning to be anywhere. Fortunately, Ollie Queen could set his own hours at work, could work from home, and could decide not to do anything if it so pleased him, which was why he was still in bed when the ringing of the phone dragged him into consciousness.

“You get that,” he mumbled into his pillow, before realizing he was alone in the bed. Right.

Dragging the reciever off the hook (Ollie’s bedroom and office were where technology went to die a lingering death, Mia’d said), he blearily said, “H’lo?”

“Hey.” The voice on the other end was level and calm, if a bit on the cool side. Still…hearing Oliver’s voice after being woken was something Hal needed. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, shifting where he sat. Being on the phone was strange. Usually he handed communication with his ring, but this time he wanted something…’normal.’

“Listen…about the other day..” This was insane, why had HE called OLIVER to apologize? He wasn’t the one who’d screwed up…Be the bigger man, he told himself. “…I thnk i could have handled that better,” he admitted.

( they tumble blindly as they make their way )

siblings and significants

[bossymarmalade]

Kyle returns from where ever Kyle went off to, and tugs at Steph’s sleeve. “Hey querida. Can I talk with you for a bit?”

“Sure thing. What’s up?” Stephanie follows him out into the hallway.

Kyle looks around, dissatisfied at their hallway location, then walks her to a more quiet alcove and constructs a couch for them to sit on. “So.” He gives her a level look. “Jason Todd.” He lifts a finger as she reacts. “You were saved by the workbell last time, and I never got a chance to say: ‘what the heck, Steph?!’ at you, so. What the heck, Steph?!”

Stephanie is taken completely by surprise, her face catches fire and her fight or flight instinct kicks in. “Uh, haha, yeah. About that … We’re sort of actually dating now.”

He rubs his mouth, not quite sure what to say. “I don’t know what to say,” Kyle says stupidly. “I just…I feel things…but I don’t know how to explain them. How….how did this happen? Are you…happy?”

( siblings of a sort )

damian holiday ficlets

[bossymarmalade]

4th of July

“Stupid,” Damian bit out, tearing a strip of gauze with his teeth as he secured it around her bloodied shin. “Stupid, thoughtless, worthless girl—”

Stephanie shoved him hard in the chest, having enjoyed more than her share of his insults for the evening. “You didn’t tell me you were lighting the fuse. Next time you send a firework exploding through the roof where your partner is perched, you’ll call out a five-second-warning!”

“You should have anticipated my move.” Damian secured the bandage, casting aside the fragment of wood that had buried itself in her leg when the firework ripped through the ceiling of the harbor house. “Grayson would have.”

“Grayson is dead.”

( observations )