bossymarmalade: louis armstrong takes you back deep (lift me to paradise)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
(( this happens after Kyle and Guy talk in the Medbay ))

It really only hit Kyle just how exhausted he was…no scratch that. He’d been feeling exhausted since forever. Since the end of his party, really. And since then, he’d fetched Red Lantern Roy from space, fetched Wally out of his own nightmare, reassured poor confused Jaime, checked on Mia and had a very intense chat with his best friend, mending bridges. Finally. Not counting those hours of nightmaring he’d gone through - Wally was right; it was sleep, but not exactly restful - Kyle now realized he’d been awake for…maybe over three days, now. More? Kyle lost track and he wasn’t really interested in tallying. Good thing he was so young and sparky, right? Riiiiight.

Still, there was another good reason why Kyle had been avoiding sleep. As much as he diverted the line of conversation with Guy, he was aware of what was happening in himself. And he didn’t understand it, except…what was there really to understand? Maybe the fear toxin worked differently for everyone. Maybe…whatever he dreamed and whatever Guy saw - and whatever that goop was that came out of him…maybe that was just a product of the fear toxin. That had to be it. Good enough a reason for now, and so Kyle wasn’t going to think about the why anymore.

What was more important was that he really just…didn’t want to sleep. The idea of going into his bed repulsed him. He was so damned tired and he was bordering between just hysterically keening and passing out right on the floor of the Watchtower. Neither was a good alternative.

and i will sing a lullabye )
bossymarmalade: bruce wayne prowls the streets (and we can stop our whoring)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
He comes into the room while Damian is asleep and draws the curtains closed. Looks at the bandage on the head wound. Murmurs: “اشتقت لك, ابني” and resists the urge to pull the blanket to cover Damian’s shoulders. He lingers for a bit, looking at the neatly organised room, before leaving, taking care to shut the door quietly behind him.

The night is fitful for Damian, full of feverish dreams brought on by fretting over Grayson and the pain of his injury. Pennyworth tended to the welt on his cheek with his usual amount of care, but the ache wakes Damian each time he turns his face upon the pillow in his sleep. Grayson may be diminutive compared to many of the men on the League, but he can hit hard when he wants to. Damian sorely regrets being caught off-guard and reminded of it firsthand. Whatever Grayson saw in his addled mind when he looked upon Damian, he’d been determined to take it down.

His escrima stick wouldn’t have connected had it been anyone else, but Damian too often lets his fondness for Grayson cloud his better judgment. When they found Grayson, Damian had rushed to him like a faithful puppy without considering the potential danger. Shameful. The maelstrom in his mind rages harder still with the realization that Father must be disappointed in his failure during the rescue.

bond )
bossymarmalade: zoidberg is terrified (*terrified lobster noise*)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Now that the enemy had been identified, they could try and treat the speedster. Somehow, though, it was working through his system in the strangest way. Even with his accelerated metabolism, it wasn’t working through the way it should. So all there was to do now was wait and let him sleep it off.

Wally’s dreams were steadily becoming ‘normal’ again. Running…not fleeing, just running. Running with Barry, with Jay, with Bai. Fighting sometimes, sure, butwinningthose fights instead of seeing his city get destroyed over and over. Seeing his loved ones killed in every twisted way possible. And always, ALWAYS running from the Black Flash.

Even now, his dreams drifted back to those things. When they did, he flinched and jerked and groaned in his sleep, and his fever would spike up again. He just had to sweat it out, get everything out of his system.

And dream.

Wally came first. He’d known Wally the longest, after all. Well, after Roy; but Kyle wasn’t interested in seeing Roy right now.

It wasn’t like there was much Kyle could do at the moment. He was feeling awful and slightly sick and vaguely weak, not that he really wanted to think about any of that. Instead, he constructed a stool and perched next to one of his best friends, eyeing the bouquet of flowers and madly scribbled card that no doubt Bai had left for her cousin. Not much she could do either, it seemed, other than check up on him. Kyle stroked his thick red hair.

“Hey man,” Kyle started to say softly, but drew his hand back sharply as Wally twitched violently, yelping out loud. But it wasn’t Kyle’s touch that generated that response - it was whatever was going on behind those pale eyelids. Wally’s eyes were freakily REM, and Kyle remained silently fascinated and horrified for a while, staring at his friend’s face.

“I wish I knew how to help…wait.” Kyle lightly punched his own head a couple times. “Of course I know how I can help. Not Bai. She can’t get into your mind, not like…” Kyle looked at his ring. He could tell it was running low, but it still had enough juice to do simple tasks.

Kyle used it to open commlinks, as well as his own mind. “J’onn? J’onn are you around? I - Wally - might need your help…”

run run fast as you can )
bossymarmalade: a bird with colours overflowing its cage (no cage can contain us)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
The steel angles of Gotham’s skyline rush by as Batman and Robin sail through the night sky in the Batwing. Damian keeps his face pressed close to the window, hardly blinking as if he might spot what he seeks somewhere on the earth far below. Urban sprawl gradually gives way to rural farmland as they continue en route to the current location of Haly’s Circus in central Ohio.

Damian is quiet for much of the flight aside from exchanges of necessary information with his father and Drake’s updates over the comm. When too many minutes pass without any audible interruption from either party, Damian finds himself speaking to ease the tension he feels in the void. “Do you think the text was really from Mother? Perhaps it’s a hoax and she’s nowhere near Grayson and Grayson is safe in Bludhaven,” he rambles. “Perhaps he returned to his apartment after Drake checked and he’s there safe now and his phone has been hacked and he doesn’t even know it. You know how careless Grayson is. You really must admonish him for worrying you so if this is the case, Father.”

Batman doesn’t seem impressed by Damian’s posturing if stony silence is any indication. Damian breaks for only a moment to check out the window again before resuming his nervous chatter. “Do you think Mother actually has him? I haven’t spoken to Mother in a long time. She wanted to kill him. There was a snake, it bit him. Grandfather contacted me recently. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Father,” he adds, voice tightening with sudden contrition. “I only told him he could continue regarding me as an enemy because my loyalty is to you. I didn’t think it worth bothering you over. Do you think they’re after Grayson because of me? Do you think we’ll find him at the circus? Father, where will we look next if he isn’t there?”

“It’s unlikely we’ll find Dick at the circus, but it’s a possibility I can’t rule out.” He keeps his tone level, but his hand is still trembling on the steering wheel. It’s a stroke of luck that Robin is too distracted to notice. And Talia. Who could easily have captured Dick.

memory )

skin deep

Nov. 6th, 2012 05:48 pm
bossymarmalade: james sawyer gets a fishbiscuit (fishbiscuit)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
True to their word to Ollie and Kate, they’d brought Roy home, or, at least back as far as the Watchtower. Figuring that Kyle and Hal would want to see how Ollie and Kate were doing in Medbay, Guy offered to take Roy from Hal’s arms as they entered the Watchtower’s airlock. The hiss of repressurization seemed to take forever, and between them were murmured brief and polite words of vague plans to see each other around, get together soon, or remarks about showers, sleep, or meals.

Guy constructed a floating gurney to place Roy on, a bit safer and less awkward now that they were subject to gravity again, and began moving his sleeping form towards Medbay. He was a little surprised, though, to look over and see Kyle still at his side as he turned Roy over to the medics. It was by no means an unpleasant surprise, though, and he wondered to himself if this meant Kyle had had enough time to himself while enjoying the beach on Mogo. He gave Kyle a quiet smile, “Going in to see Kate, or have they discharged her from Medbay already?”

It was clear that Roy was still recuperating, but obviously he lay in a mental and emotional exhaustion, rather than any physical hurt. Still, there was something about Roy that made Kyle want to remain and make sure he was interned safely in the Watchtower, until it was time to release him. Maybe it was because Kyle had brought him in in originally, had first seen that glimpse of Red Lantern in him…and they still weren’t able to prevent Roy from nearly killing Oliver and Kate. Kyle sighed and shut his eyes briefly. No. Not going to think about that.

Instead, he tore his gaze away from Roy and focused on Guy, who was smiling quietly at him, gentle and supportive. It made Kyle flicker a smile back, made him forget everything he was trying to not think about.

sorting )
bossymarmalade: homer simpson assumes a fetal position (despair of the dial tone)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
“Why do you argue husband? You know it’s true.”

“No” J’onn answered. “It can not be.” The Martian Manhunter sits alone in his quarters, the only light coming from a small desk lamp in the corner. He is visibly distraught. Arguing with the disembodied voice of your long dead wife can do that to a person - or a Martian. “I have been a part of the League for years.”

“You’ve been the League’s mascot for years! They don’t trust you. They don’t consider you to be one of them. They only keep you around to watch over you. You’re their lap dog. You’re their errand boy. To them, you’re nothing more than an alien toy. They don’t know your power. They don’t know you can destroy them all.”

“Stop!” he cries. “M’yriah, stop! I loved you. You were my wife. Why do you torment me like this?

“I don’t torment you husband. I tell you the truth.”

“M’yriah. Please…”

“They say they love you. But they’re so quick to turn on you. Don’t you remember your first year with the newly formed League?”

“How could you know about that? You were not alive when -”

“And again when the Hyperclan first attacked? And were they not quick to judge you on Rann?”

“Those were special circumstances beloved. They were just -”

“They were just what J’onn? Isolated events? How many times are you going to have to prove yourself to them before you realize what I already know? They don’t trust you. They don’t even like you. You should kill them all now before they destroy you.”

remember that it's all in your head )
bossymarmalade: murdoch & crabtree on bicycles (for when we can't dogsled)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Jogging to a stop, Wally grinned and waved at a few kids on the sidewalk, reveling in their smiles and excited tugging at their mom’s hand to point him out. He needed this. He needed some time with his city, away from the League, away from the drama, away from everything. He needed to center and just…be.

Picking up a jog again, he raced around the city just slow enough to be seen. People liked being reminded he was there, that he was looking after them. They felt safe knowing the Flash was always just a few steps away. On his way around, he stopped a couple of robberies, snatched a kid chasing a ball into a busy street, and diffused a hostage situation by replacing the perp’s gun with a banana.

All in a day’s work.

As he turned back at the bridge to Central, he swore he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t all that uncommon, really, sometimes when he got up to speed he just missed things. But…he saw it again, a black blur just out of sight. His heart picked up, part of him knowing what he saw but unable to believe it. The acrid smell of ozone and decay slapped him in the face as he took off again. It was there.
It was behind him.

The Black Flash.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the black clad wraith, claw like hands out stretched and lipless mouth bearing yellowed teeth. Wally sped up, gold and red lightning licking off of him in arcs. The ghoul kept pace black lightning sparking off of it with a deep roar like thunder.
As he looked around, the world moved in slow motion, but he could still see pandemonium all over. People were running, screaming, crying out in terror. Could they see it, too?

No time to think about it, he told himself. Just run, run, RUN!!! If he slowed at all, Black Flash would catch him, and it would be all over. The road ahead of him seemed to stretch on forever, and yet he couldn’t make himself go any faster. His legs ached and his lungs burned, the stink of death choking him.

Don’t stop, don’t stop!

The speed blur around him brightened and fluctuated, then dimmed and seemed to slow down. What was going on? Looking back, Wally almost screamed to see the Black Flash was almost on him. Willing his legs to move, he took off again. He was starting to feel light headed, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t go faster.

Run, RUN!

He didn’t know where he was anymore, running blind in the mad rush of colour and sound. He just knew he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t slow down. His legs wobbled and he lost his footing. His hands came out in front to catch him, arms jarring as he hit the ground and rolled.
He had crashed into a side alley, alone amid the rising pandemonium in the city. The Black Flash was there, looming over him. Wally screamed as the clawed hand reached down, clutching the lightning bolt on his chest.

And everything went dark.

fast-spreading disease )
bossymarmalade: rimmer wears admiral hat at party (no stranger to the land of scoff)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Alone.

He was always alone.

Of course he was always alone. It wasn’t like he helped matters, hiding away in his apartment.
Feeling sick hadn’t helped- some kind of food poisoning, perhaps? He’d kept hydrated. Kept alone.

He was going to die alone.

Why would anyone want to stay with him? Why would anyone risk being with him? He was a freak.
How many nineteen year olds did he know that didn’t… Didn’t want...

He was never going to fall in love because no one would let him. He was going to be alone for the rest of his life, watching Steph, Babs, Dick, and even Jason and Damian fall in love and get married and whatever they wanted and he’d be alone.

He’d be alone.

not alone )

a sickness

Sep. 16th, 2012 12:57 pm
bossymarmalade: buffy summers everyone's punching bag (you're buffy summers for fucksake)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Ugh. She couldn’t be sick. Not now.

There was too much going on. And she didn’t want to be told to go lay down because she was obviously not feeling well. God, you’d think Connor was her mother sometimes. What if they found Roy? And… like… left to deal with that without her? She didn’t want to be left out of that.

Mia groaned and turned over on the bed burying her face in her pillow and closing her eyes tightly because christ, what the hell was wrong? She felt like shit. This sucked.

She fidgeted on the bed restlessly for quite a while hovering somewhere between sleeping and awake.

The blonde sat up quickly in her bed in a cold sweat. She looked around her room with wide eyes, knowing she just woke up from a bad dream but… whatever had happened was already slipping away from her. Something about Ollie being attacked or… was it Roy? No, that wasn’t right.

Mia pulled her covers off and slid out of bed turning on the lap next to her bed.

But… something was off. She narrowed her blue eyes and looked around her room. “Hm…” Oh well.

descent )
bossymarmalade: nanny tends baby in paris je t'aime (only you can prevent baby flathead)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Now that Kyle had gotten over that…whatever it was he had to deal with in those many hours of fitful, unhappy sleep, he found he didn’t want to sleep anymore. Maybe it was…wariness. Like if he fell asleep again, those dreams might happen, those memories like nightmares and worst of all, that awful, black oil that spewed from him. He just lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a long while, trying to sleep and also refusing. The same old, same old. But at least it was a familiar feeling.

But Kyle was used to insomnia, so he slipped his ring back on, charging it and feeling much better. He checked one more time on Guy and left a handwritten message on his bedside table. “Feeling restless, checking the Arrow penthouse for…clues? Ha ha ha. Then heading up to the Watchtower to see Jaime. Meet me there when you’re awake. Love Kyle”. That done, Kyle went back to his room and headed up to the roof and used the zeta tubes to Star City.

The Arrow penthouse was empty, like the last time he was there. But it wasn’t…it wasn’t at all like last time. Even from the outside, he could see that there was blood everywhere in the rooms. It was a sickening sight and Kyle forced himself to look, to go inside and look around.

Everything was knocked all over the place in the house, complete disarray. Roy was relentless it seemed, and it took all of Kyle’s resolve and refusal to actually think about what happened here, to keep from bolting. Instead, he concentrated on a green glow that seemed to come from behind the couch.

Flying over, he realized it was Hal’s lantern, spattered in blood but still, thankfully, completely in tact. Kyle picked it up and opened up a temporal shift for safe-keeping. His own little cupboard under the stairs.

feel your disease )

i'm here

Sep. 16th, 2012 10:54 am
bossymarmalade: kanye slumped over his beat machine (let's have a toast for the douchebags)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
The Zeta pad hummed a long descending note as it cooled down. Exhausted, Guy didn’t even step off the rooftop transport pad, he just let his ring float him down to the balcony. “Kyle?” he called, half-expecting to see him in the kitchen or living room. The place was so quiet, and all he could hear was the distant noises of lunchtime activity from the bar downstairs.

“Ring,” he yawned, “Transmit a full report to Salaak on Oa of the recent attack of the Red Arr-…fuck, I mean the Red Lantern Roy Harper…” That was one hell of a slip of the tongue, Guy. You’re tired, but don’t make that mistake again. The Arrows don’t need that pain. “Request any new available info in return, and add this: ‘Salaak, gonna have to break your house arrest to go after the threat, he’s left Earth and Kyle and Hal will need my help to track him down and deal with him. The job comes before bureaucratic spankings, Sal.’

[Acknowledged. Report compiled and transmitted.]

“Thanks Ring.”

[Acknowledged. Warning, you are anemic. Recommen-]

“I know, I know,” Guy smiled to himself, shaking his head. ”Juice, sleep, iron supplements, yada yada. You do your bit, Ring, I’ll eat steak every night, we’ll be good in a few days, right?”

[With adequate diet, minimum recovery time is five days, three hours.]

“Huh. Thought you were faster than that, Ring.”

[Correction. Six days, thr-]

“Okay, okay, sorry!”

He poked his head in the guest rooms, noting Dick, Lian, and Stephanie were all gone. Last he’d seen Kyle, he was staying behind here to protect them. ”Ring, locate Lantern Rayner?”

[Lantern Rayner is 6.53 metres southeast of current location.]

recovering )

dreaming

Sep. 16th, 2012 10:45 am
bossymarmalade: a rainbow over a pier (urban rainbows and fishing villages)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
dream in color: star sapphire

He heard his mother coming up the stairs, and jumped off his bed, sitting back at the drawing table. By the time she opened the door, Kyle looked like he was toiling over his sketchbook. He heard her sigh loudly.

“You could’ve at least come down to say hello. They don’t bite, you know,” she said in her lilting Irish accent.

“I’m busyyyyy,” Kyle tried to keep the whine out of his voice and failed. “I have like so many sharks I need to draw, deadlines tomorrow, and I’ve only gotten like five concepts done.” This was a lie. He’d finished drawing all the sharks about two hours ago, he was just that fast. But Maura accepted her wee babby was slow, and Kyle didn’t dissuade her. Anything to avoid being shown off to her friends.

Except…except - Kyle looked up sharply, away from his sketchpad overflowing with sharks. Except Maura Rayner didn’t have any friends. He kicked back his stool and shot out his ringed hand at her, but she was already flying just slightly above him, resplendant in her Sapphire outfit, her tucked-tummy emblazoned bright, white-pink.

“Mom…mom, I can’t…” Kyle’s voice was tight and stilted, his fist still aimed. She flew up against him and kissed his cheeks softly. Once, twice, then once more as Kyle sighed.

“They don’t bite,” she whispered again, and her pink-white kisses burned against his skin as her teeth bit down.

spectrum )
bossymarmalade: the little man from another place  (between the lodges)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Dick had slept well the first night back, protectively cuddling Damian like a mother bear with her cub, but since the party, he’d felt tired, more tired than he’d ever felt with Guy in Europe. He wrote it off as jet-lag—Lantern-lag?—and stress. The coming home to Damian and Billy, taking care of them; the talk with Wally; the attack on Ollie and Kate; the knowledge that his lover was practically turning into some kind of monster; the struggle to calm Lian in her ever-growing panic; and the now near-painful lack of sleep were all just wearing him down.

“You got soft in Europe, Grayson,” chimed a little Damian-voice.

He was right. How else could they have attacked him so easily? He’d softened, weakened, too used to relying on someone else to protect him. Guy was always there….

“But the Lantern wasn’t there when they attacked,” it said again. ”You were all alone.”

Alone….

Dick shook his head, smacking himself to wake up. Maybe he should make some coffee. Check on Lian. No, Lian was finally asleep; he should let her rest. Damian. Billy. He should check on them. Maybe after he made some coffee.

Damian knows he’s alone as soon as he opens his eyes. Grayson has already risen, and Damian is quick to toss aside the blankets and nearly spring from the bed in his haste to vacate the room. Over the past day, being the sole occupant in any room has filled him with a disconcerting anxiety. It’s unlike him, but he reasons his paranoia is temporary and will fade along with the stomach flu that ails him. Illness can weaken the mind as well as the body.

He’s nearly reached the kitchen when a red mark on his hand catches his eye. He stops in the hallway and holds both hands aloft, turning them to examine the welts lining both palms and knuckles. These marks aren’t unfamiliar to him: Mother’s preferred method of correction for his mistakes was a birch rod applied across his hands, and his skin still bares faded scars from past atonement. But these wounds are fresh, raw, as if the stripes were laid down only hours ago.

Damian keeps turning his hands in wonderment. They don’t hurt at all, but the marks are so vivid. He doesn’t recall being caned in the past few days. He knows he didn’t sustain injuries of this sort from his encounter with Two-Face’s bat, and Grayson doesn’t have the heart to issue such brutal discipline. Where did they come from, and how can Damian possibly have no memory of receiving them?

He hurries into the kitchen, the warm scent of coffee in the air. “Grayson,” he begins shakily when he spots him at the counter, then hesitates. He hides his hands in his pockets and sits at the table. The welts should hurt from rubbing against the starch fabric of his shorts, but he feels nothing. “I require coffee this morning.”

all the denizens )

slipping

Sep. 16th, 2012 09:24 am
bossymarmalade: blue eye with lashes of red flower petals (zatanna)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Zatanna woke up in a vaguely familiar bed, her arms clutching a throw pillow as if her life depended on it. Her entire body was now drenched in sweat, while her stomach felt as if it had been twisted into a knot. As her eyes adjusted to the room’s light Zee decided it must’ve been a nightmare, confirming this by turning over to find Clark still sleeping calmly next to her. Yet locating her slumbering fiancé did nothing to relax her nerves, if anything it only made her feel sicker. The more she reminded herself it had only been a dream, the worse she felt. The despair over her visions shortly pulled her down deeper into the nightmare like state.

Freeing herself from the clinging sheets and moving weakly to her feet, Zatanna felt her stomach lurch sharply in protest, “Oh fuck…” she whispered woefully, stumbling off to the nearest bathroom in her haze. In the dark hours of the night, Zee found her apartment was eerily quiet minus the small buzzing of a dim light down the hall. Shakily Zatanna’s hands fumble against the handle on the doorknob that leads to her hallway’s bathroom, yet eventually they manage to open the door. Smacking the light switch and tripping to her knees at the base of the toilet, she promptly vomited up whatever she had last eaten, probably something she’d had at the party.

Curling up to the side of the base of the toilet, Zee allows her dark hair to obscure her face from the light that shocks her senses into the groggy awaken state she’s been thrust into. As she lies on the cool tiled floor, she can’t help but be drawn back to the faint memories of the dream she had awoken from. Her powers had been pulsing and pounding against her skin- as if her body was the only thing to hold her back from losing control of everything now. Her will was weak the voices in her head echoed, her father’s voice had been one of them she knew, right alongside what she had often imagined her mother’s voice to sound like. They knew how easy it would be for her to fall to her powers, and in her dream she already had.

eldritch )

pennies

Sep. 16th, 2012 09:20 am
bossymarmalade: john constantine  (don't join if you can't take a joke)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Jason Blood did not feel well at all. Being an Immortal did not make one immune from everyday ailments. The only difference is that when most people hurt so badly that they think they want to die, they actually can – he can’t. He had fought through a day of fever and chills, suspecting food poisoning. Living as long as he had, Jason should know better what kinds of foods he can take. But that shawarma looked too good to pass up. And he had paid the price for it.

But now that his system had been run through with a bulldozer yesterday, Jason thought he might feel better today. No such luck.

A bowl of soup was no help either. Jason gave up and just headed back to bed, pulling his blanket over him and shivering. His Chicago suburb apartment felt hot. His skin felt clammy. “This might be more than a case of bad shawarma after all” he thought. A little more rest was in order. Jason closed his eyes and struggled to keep down the little bit of soup he had managed to eat. Eventually, he fell asleep…

His dreams that night were of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln? No not the president. The coin. Pennies. Tons and tons of pennies. The almost forgotten member of the US currency family. Showers and waterfalls made of pennies. Made of pennies. Pennies. Made of. Pennies made of… copper?

taste of metal )
bossymarmalade: blue eye with lashes of red flower petals (martian manhunter)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Following Kyle’s birthday party, J’onn J’onzz returned to the Watchtower and made his way to his quarters. He was scheduled to be on monitor duty in about two hours and was hoping to get in a little meditation time beforehand. As he entered his room and shut the door behind him, J’onn pushed the button on his stereo system and the sounds of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony filled the air.

The Martian wore a smile on his face. He always enjoyed spending social time with his teammates and the few gatherings he had attended at Warriors had all been pleasant. “Kal-El did a fine job putting together that party for Kyle” he thought to himself. “And it was good to see Dick back from his travels along with Guy.” J’onn made his way to the center of his quarters, picking up his meditation cushions and humming Beethoven’s melody along the way. “I hope Kyle enjoyed his gift” J’onn thought, “and his basket of cookies.”

He was about to settle down on the floor when a voice in his head asked, “Are you out of Chocos?”

A look of puzzlement crossed his face and before his body made it all the way to the ground, J’onn stopped and stood up. He made his way to the kitchenette and opened the cabinet doors. Inside were twenty unopened boxes of Chocos.

“Strange” he thought to himself. “I have plenty.”

redrum )
bossymarmalade: zoidberg is terrified (*terrified lobster noise*)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Dick bustled around the apartment over Warriors, packing what little he had from the trip. With the news of Roy’s attack on Ollie and Kate, he was worried about staying there any longer, not just for his safety, but for everyone in the bar. Plus, Kate had told him to look after Lian, and he’d be damned if he didn’t watch over her.

He sat down on the bed next to her and pet her hair. ”Lian, sweetie. Time to wake up now. We’ve gotta go now, princess.”

Lian’s dreams were not pleasant at all. And the moment Dick’s waking her up she forgets them, simply finding it hard to stop shaking from the rush of fear and the sick feeling in her stomach. Whining in her throat she reached her hands up, grabby hands at him. “My tummy hurts.” She complained, wiping tiredly at her eyes and wanting to cover herself with the blanket and hide forever.

Kyle stepped downstairs after Guy left, feeling sick inside from everything that was going on. First Jaime, then something wrong with Kate, Hal off planet…as much as Kyle was trying to tell himself that people were handling things, he hated this idea of - once more - reacting and reacting. Never acting - even when the Lanterns had tried to take precautions, it still didn’t work. People were still getting hurt.

nightmares )
bossymarmalade: lisa and bart with their box-castle (let's melt it with a hose)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Dick hummed mindlessly as he set the tray of food on the end table. He’d slept… all right that night. He couldn’t really remember so he figured nothing terrible happened. He hadn’t heard Guy get up at all, which wasn’t surprising from how he felt last night. Hopefully, it was just an overnight bug and things would be right as rain!

He leaned over Guy, gently touching his shoulders to wake him. “Guy. Guy? Wake up. It’s morning!” He reached up to feel Guy’s forehead. He’d taken the washcloth off the night before, figuring Guy didn’t need it falling off if he rolled around, so the skin wasn’t falsely cool.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t cool at all. Guy was burning to the touch and looked considerably worse than the night before. Dick shook him a little harder, just wanting to get him awake and talking. “Guy? Answer me, Guy. Wake up, Guy.”

“…K-kyle…” Guy opened his eyes a crack, then shut them; the light was too bright. Too bright. Darkness was better. Not moving was good too. Everything hurt, all his muscles, even his throat.

“…Lemme alone Kyle…” he pushed away, or imagined he was, at least. In reality his arm only nudged the blanket holding him down.

don't tread there )
bossymarmalade: ria leaves in monsoon wedding (didn't anybody tell her)
[personal profile] bossymarmalade
Dick stared at the hotel room ceiling, thinking about what Ollie had said. He didn’t seem to have found his peace. He sighed. Maybe he didn’t have any peace to find. A sensei had told him he had a waterfall-nature, always falling, never still. That seemed to be true. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, meditating to calm himself. He just needed time. Things always got better with time.

Cheshire tracked him down with such ease it’s almost sickening how easy-going heroes are when it comes to their well being. Knowing fully well what she planned on doing to him. It has to be precise. She wondered though if she would have to do it in the hotel. It could get so messy.

Dick sunk into a deep half-sleep, running thoughts and images through his mind. His feelings about leaving, his worries about Damian, his stress from Roy and Wally all flit past his mind’s eye, sorting themselves and organizing. What should he focus on? What needed the most attention? What could he just ignore? He was settled deep in his trance, shut off from the outside world, with only a small perimeter alarm around the room.

She got in easier than she expected. Hm. So much for security. Scaling her way into Dick’s room, she unsheathed her knife, eyes glaring at the prone form. She did ever so hate when they couldn’t defend themselves. “Grayson.” She hissed softly.

fingernails sink in )

January 2015

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