open rp post

[stellationing]

Leave me a scenario (one of your own or choose from here) and include any particular preferences as well if you wish.

Or, if you want to just leave a comment with a picture or a word as a prompt and suggest which muse of mine you want, that works too! I might just be a bit slow with those.

Make a reply asking for anyone here on the subject title.

If you choose a character on the maybe list, I will definitely be slow with them.

If you know a specific "verse" of character you want, specify. If it's a cross-canon scene and you don't specify, you might get a CR AU.

Alternately, if you'd rather place a comment on the muse's contact post. Or if you want to do something a little more privately, let me know and I'll set something up elsewhere.

Go to the RNG if you don't have a specific scenario in mind.

Have fun!

Comments

[alionsheart]

Since the Queen's dark curse ravaged their land, Robin has never felt completely safe or at home anymore. This is where they live, the place they inhabit, but these desolate paths they tread through the forest aren't home. He'd once dwelled so peacefully amongst the trees and now most of them are barren, scorched, dying. There are ogres roaming the land and resources are scarce, leading to terrible violence at times between those left behind. Robin's grateful for his men, they've all kept each other safe and everyone's vowed to keep his son safe above all else.

But everything is dying. Including the people.

For the past two weeks, they've been roaming between villages, gathering what food they can and seeking out some sort of shelter, something they hope will be more permanent. But a fight breaks out when they try to gather up some chickens, and Robin and his men flee quickly into the woods once again. A few days ago, a few of them men became ill, desperately ill. They'd been forced to take shelter in the woods; not the safest or most comfortable place these days, but necessary. One of the men had lapsed into a coma by the third day, and then to his horror, Robin awoke to discover Roland was sick. His son, his precious boy, burning up with fever, seized with coughing fits that burned his lungs.

It's been three days now, with Robin up around the clock tending to his son, trying to keep him hydrated, doing everything he can to bring the fever down, but it's not enough. His son lapses into a coma as well, breathing but not waking up. He's desperate. He can't lose his son, he can't. This place has magic and though Robin has never wielded it, he knows there are other realms beyond them. Maybe someone, somewhere, can help them. He'll try anything. He has nothing left to lose. By nightfall, he's holding Roland in his arms. In the palm of his hand, he's cradling a small magic bean one of his men found. Magic beans can open portals and travel to other lands. Perhaps they can transmit messages as well. He's not sure what this one will do when he uses it, but he speaks to it, begging it to save his son, whether that means taking them somewhere else or bringing a cure here. And then, he throws it a short distance, waiting for something to happen. The bean levitates in the air and seems to disappear; he can't see it in the darkness of night, but it floats up skyward and travels to another realm entirely, far into the depths of space. By now, it's not a bean anymore, it's a signal, a beacon transmitting a message with coordinates. Robin's desperate message plays in a loop over and over again.

Back in the Enchanted Forest, Robin thinks he's simply failed his son and he's just waiting for the inevitable, for death to take one more person from him. He presses his forehead to Roland's, stroking his dark curls back from his forehead, and then he cries. He just cries and hopes for a miracle.

[ethnobotany]

The United Federation of Planets has been keeping an eye on this planet, hoping to make peaceful contact someday. With every day that has passed, that seems less and less likely. The distress call is new, though, and the miracle is that the Enterprise is still in orbit. They're close enough to be of assistance and even though Starfleet hesitates to offer them any kind of aid, the truth is that this plague threatens other planets nearby, ones that are Federation members. So taking heed of this distress call and going to the aid of this one planet isn't entirely a bad thing. It could do a lot of good.

At least, that is part of Beverly's argument.

When she, a medical team, and a security team beam down to the coordinates, she hurries straight over to the first person she sees. Her team has been working on a cure for a while and while it isn't perfect yet, it will do enough to wake up the victims and get their immune systems working to really fight off the illness. At least long enough to either get to the Enterprise or have another medical team bring down an actual cure in a day or so.

Her team takes care of the rest of the sick men as Beverly heads straight for the little boy. A tricorder scan reveals that the illness is affecting the boy more severely than the others. Beverly glances with concern at the man next to the boy, someone she assumes is either the boy's father or his guardian, and taps her combadge with a hand before she presses a hypospray of the almost-cure to the boy's neck.

"Crusher to Picard. The virus is much worse in this young boy than in the adults. For some reason, it's attacking his vital organs and brain center more viciously than anyone else. Request permission to beam him and his guardian aboard."

"Doctor--"

"You can save the lecture about the Prime Directive. We're already here. Saving his life, bringing them aboard won't change anything that's happening already."

She knows he's going to protest, feels it in her very bones and prepares herself for a fight. What she hears over the combadge is Commander Riker's distant voice.

"I wouldn't want to be in the transporter room if you beam her back without them."

At least one of them knows how stubborn and angry she can get when lives are at stake. But in case that didn't make her point for her, she adds on, "You broke the Prime Directive to save Wesley's life seven years ago, Jean-Luc. Don't you dare go back on that with someone else's child."

She's hit a nerve; that was entirely why she said it.

"Very well, Doctor. We will--"

But what exactly they were going to do, Beverly never finds out. At that moment, an explosion goes off a few kilometers away. Debris from the forest rains down on them and whatever communication was able to get through is severed. Beverly's immediate response is to shield the boy's body with her own, even as she tries to contact her people again.

"Captain? Crusher to Picard. Crusher to Enterprise!" Nothing. "Damn. We need to get these people somewhere safe. They should be well enough to walk or at least be awake, but we'll have carry the young boy. Lieutenant Marino, see if you can set up an open comm line with a rotating frequency. We might be able to get through after a while. Right now we need to move."

She turns to the boy's guardian and gives him a terse, but apologetic, look. "He'll be all right for now. I promise we'll do everything we can to save him."

for annie }{ to make the best of what is left

[eveningprimrose]

Prim and her mother have taken to traveling in the days, weeks, and months since the war against the Capitol. Since Snow and Coin's deaths. Since the bombing of the children in the square in front of the president's manor. Since all of those deaths.

Since the real start of Prim's nightmares.

She had thought that perhaps the nightmares before the 74th Hunger Games were the worst and perhaps that the ones while Katniss was in the second arena for the Quarter Quell were terrible. But they were nothing compared to the strength and terror of the ones she is now experiencing after nearly being burned alive in the square while tending to the poor children who had already been hurt so badly. It was pure luck that she had survived. Luck that had her turn and take a few life-saving steps out of the crowd.

Luck that has now saddled her with an intense survivor's guilt.

That's why she's here in District Four now. Normally, she lives in District Twelve with her sister and Peeta. Their mother has taken to living mostly in District Four because of the terrible memories that Twelve holds for her. Prim doesn't blame her at all and, really, it's good for the youngest Everdeen to be on her own every so often, to have to make the train ride by herself or with Katniss and Peeta. She doesn't mind.

She steps off the train in District Four, heading for the building they'd selected to become the new hospital. Prim has been learning everything she can while she's around people who can teach her and now that she's here, she's ready to learn more. Her lessons lately have been all about pre-natal care.

Because Annie. Is going to have a baby.

So here she is, walking into the hospital with a little bit of worry, though the fourteen-year-old has been trying to hide it underneath an excitement for her job. "Mother? Annie?" she calls, hoping they're somewhere nearby.

[treadswater]

Annie is not fond of hospitals. In actual fact, she hates them. Hates the smell. Hates the blank walls. Hates the sounds that sometimes echo around. Reminds her too much of the cell in the Tribute Tower. Which all goes a way to explaining why there isn't a white wall in sight. Not here.

Operating theatres, yes.

But elsewhere, gentle colours. Plants in the waiting room, in the corners where they won't get in the way. A fan to stir the air on awful summer days, which will just increase because it's only the start of June and this is the eastern coast of the Gulf of Panem.

The hospital is still being outfitted, but parts of it are open: City One needs it to be. The reception area where Prim's been directed, though, that's only really open to builders, to doctors and healers, to merchants for supplies.

And for friends.

Annie hears her name, and sticks her head up over the ledge on reception's desk.

"Prim! You're early."

She pushes herself up out of the chair (or, more accurately, hauls) and walks around to greet the girl, and a couple things become apparent.

The first is colour. Even in the Capitol, in the first few weeks after the surrender, Annie had worn colour when she could. But she'd had to be careful due to politics, and besides, she was mostly altering Finnick's clothes and it was winter. But here, she is home. And home means flowing skirts, home means prints, home means multiple necklaces and some peonies in Annie's braided hair.

The second is that the small woman is very, very obviously pregnant. Not the people have been believing her when she says how far along she is. But you're so tiny, until Annie glares, until Annie stares at them flatly. Different women carry differently, or so her midwife and Marigold keep telling her when she worries and asks, yet again.

(She's a worrier, is Annie. And this is her baby.)

That aside, she's pregnant, and largely so, until she feels not unlike a ship when she walks around, her bump the prow that parts air and water and crowds.

"Weren't expectin' you until the midday train," Annie continues. Smiling, though. She likes Prim. She likes Prim, and Prim is here for the baby, and Annie is happy. Tired. Still stressed about many things. Still healing. But happy. "How are you?"

for finnick }{ to make the best of what is left

[eveningprimrose]

Prim and her mother have taken to traveling in the days, weeks, and months since the war against the Capitol. Since Snow and Coin's deaths. Since the bombing of the children in the square in front of the president's manor. Since all of those deaths.

Since the real start of Prim's nightmares.

She had thought that perhaps the nightmares before the 74th Hunger Games were the worst and perhaps that the ones while Katniss was in the second arena for the Quarter Quell were terrible. But they were nothing compared to the strength and terror of the ones she is now experiencing after nearly being burned alive in the square while tending to the poor children who had already been hurt so badly. It was pure luck that she had survived. Luck that had her turn and take a few life-saving steps out of the crowd.

Luck that has now saddled her with an intense survivor's guilt.

That's why she's here in District Four now. Normally, she lives in District Twelve with her sister and Peeta. Their mother has taken to living mostly in District Four because of the terrible memories that Twelve holds for her. Prim doesn't blame her at all and, really, it's good for the youngest Everdeen to be on her own every so often, to have to make the train ride by herself or with Katniss and Peeta. She doesn't mind.

She steps off the train in District Four, heading for the building they'd selected to become the new hospital. Prim has been learning everything she can while she's around people who can teach her and now that she's here, she's ready to learn more. Her lessons lately have been all about pre-natal care.

Because Annie. Is going to have a baby.

And what journey to see Annie is complete without seeing Finnick, too? Prim has gotten used to both of them and Katniss trusts them enough to leave Prim in their care, so as soon as Prim has seen Annie, she looks for Finnick. He shouldn't be far.

[fishermansweater]

Finnick Odair is harder to find these days than he used to be. The revolution took more from him than most people know. All of Panem, now, knows the truth of his life as a victor, saw him bare the darkest memories and secrets in his soul. All of Panem had seen him publicly mourn fallen tributes. All of Panem watched his wedding. All of Panem had seen him declared dead, had heard that news changed to critically injured. Had seen him at the trials and executions. Had seen the tangled scars that now mark the face the whole country once sighed over.

He's been watched and wanted ever since he was fourteen. Prim's age. That was how old he'd been when he'd won the Hunger Games, in part thanks to the sponsor money of people who'd known what would happen once he was old enough.

The last eleven years of his life have been for Panem's entertainment, and he's tired. So he'd come back to District Four, and he'd slipped as far from public life as he could. He'd begged for privacy to be allowed to heal, to try to care for his pregnant wife. That had been good enough for most, even without the things Panem doesn't know. The darkness and demons that haunt his mind, sometimes threatening to swallow him. They're fed now not only by being twice a tribute and many times a mentor, or by the nights of fear and loathing he'd spent in so many Capitol beds, but also by the battle for the Capitol.

(Some nights, he still wakes with the stench of the mutts sharp in his memory.)

But whatever his body and mind and exhausted spirit might do, there's contentment in freedom, hard-fought for and hard-won. The freedom to do all those things: to retreat from public scrutiny, to marry and love and care for Annie, to choose what he does now with his life. To prepare to start a family with the woman he's pledged that life to.

He's fond of the gardens around the hospital. He's spent enough time here for check-ups to have grown to appreciate them, especially in contrast to the bright, sterile hospital in the Capitol that had pieced together his face and shoulder after the mutts were done with him. Besides, he likes to be close to Annie, still, even so many months after she'd been rescued from captivity. He stays out of he way, but he likes to be here.

He'd come in with her today not just to keep her company, but also to meet Prim. He's fond of the younger Everdeen sister. She'd been kind to him, those days in the hospital in District 13 when he'd been so far lost in his darkness he could barely acknowledge her. She'd been kind to Annie, too, and he's always judged people on how they treat Annie.

So he's waiting for her, and for Prim, he's done something he wouldn't usually do: made up his face to disguise the worst of the scars that trace the wounds left by teeth and claws and surgeons' scalpels. He can't quite cover them, but they're less noticeable, at least until they run down his neck to where they disappear under his shirt. He doesn't need to test Prim, doesn't need to gauge the impact the loss of physical beauty will have on her.

He knows Prim, and Prim knows him, beyond the famous face to the man he really is.

That's why, when he sees her, he swings up off the stone bench he'd been sprawled on, grinning. (His movements in his injured arm are getting less and less stiff as the months go on, but there's still a moment's hitch.)

"Hey, Prim! Welcome back!"

[vampere]

The destruction of the Old City Sanctuary has been hard on everyone. Fortunately, the city officials haven't kicked up too much fuss about it, given that it had been a private property and there was no lasting damage to anything else besides, but there'd still been a truckload of abnormals to see rehomed to say nothing of the sheer amount of wreckage that had been left behind.

Nor is he too proud to admit that he spent what has been very nearly an embarrassing amount of time searching through the rubble for even the slightest sign of Helen, not just for his sake, but for Henry's too.

(He has never been meant for this, he thinks, in his darker moments. Never meant to be the last of them; never meant to be host to a desperation that feels as if it's very nearly going to pull him apart, and the day he excavates what was once the wine cellar it very nearly breaks him.)

But life must go on, and so he stays long enough to make sure the last few bits and pieces are seen to the way Helen would have wanted, and never mind all the times he wants to just yell at the sky with the unfairness of it. Instead, he spends his time being pricklier than usual even with the few people he knows, and when the abnormals have all been suitably housed, he simply... vanishes. Not completely, of course, but he wants nothing more to do with Old City for a good long while.

He doesn't resurface until several days later, in a hotel in New York. Under an assumed name of course - the last thing he wants to do is be found by anyone looking him up by name - but that makes it all the more interesting when he comes back for the night to find that there's a package waiting for him. One that is very suspiciously shaped like a wine bottle, and when he finds it's a '46 besides it's all he can do to smile and thank the person at the front desk instead of reacting how he wants to.

It's not until after he gets to his room that it occurs to him that it's empty (he goes back down to the front desk, feeling terribly foolish the whole way, to ask if there were anything else, only to find - rather as he'd suspected - that there isn't). He doesn't realize that there's something neatly folded up and slid into the bottle until it's hidden behind the label until the next morning; he spends a mildly frustrating couple of hours working out a way to get it out without breaking the bottle. (Empty it might be, but he'd still feel terrible about smashing the bottle, out of respect for the former contents.)

He laughs, too, when he gets the little slip of paper out and unfolded, because really, that or cry and he'd rather not do the latter. It's a note, written in the one thing almost no other person on earth would have been able to read: the ancient language of the vampires.

[lifelines]

Luckily for everyone involved, the largest and most difficult Abnormals had already been moved by the time of the Old City Sanctuary's demise. They were brought to the new Underground Sanctuary just prior to the explosion, with enough time to ensure their safety but close enough that no one would get suspicious. Helen had explained it away as routine safety. Well, as routine as any invasion ever gets. Nothing has been routine for a long time, especially not the half year since her return from the past.

Henry had doubts. Helen doubts that Nikola fully bought her story, even if he likely trusted her word more than Will would have. More than Henry even. But they all followed her as they always had and for that, she would forever be grateful.

Will was the first she contacted after that week went by. She needed him, needed his counsel, his guidance. Needed her protege by her side again. Assuming he would agree to work with her once more. Henry was next. Then Kate was informed, though she would not remain with them on the surface. Abby was brought into the loop, though she remained as their informant on the surface. At least for now.

Helen's true contacts, by and large, remained. They saw plenty of opportunities for both sides, benefits that she agreed to.

Nikola was, of course, the last thread Helen tugged at, though she did so from afar. She wanted extra time with him, time she had not yet allowed anyone else with her. That and... well, she had a few things to work through with herself first. Namely, wrapping her head around that spur of the moment kiss in the main lab before she unceremoniously kicked him out so she could blow the place up and know he would survive.

She knew he was alive. That was more than he could say for her.

Those contacts of hers are, as always, happy to keep an eye on things for her. When she hears the report of the wine bottle being brought back and just how long it takes him to find the message, she may or may not have smiled, may or may not have laughed. She has missed him over these days. More than she should admit.

The message itself is simple, though it took her ages to figure it out. Or, more accurately, it took her ages to work out how to write it in that particular language. She chose that language and that bottle simply because he would know she was the one who sent them. Who else would have that bottle on hand? Who else would take meaning from that year? And who else would care about that language. She had, naturally, saved the book and all the references she would need to write the symbols and even then she knows it isn't perfect. It's close. Close enough and with only a few errors.

Namely the one error she made in Afina's tomb. Though that might have been intentional.

The question is, while he sits here in his hotel room, does he want to find what's been laid to rest in the after-time? If so, Central Park is his destination.

Helen's contacts will tell her when to let go of the next clue.

for katniss }{ to make the best of what is left

[eveningprimrose]

Prim and her mother have taken to traveling in the days, weeks, and months since the war against the Capitol. Since Snow and Coin's deaths. Since the bombing of the children in the square in front of the president's manor. Since all of those deaths.

Since the real start of Prim's nightmares.

She had thought that perhaps the nightmares before the 74th Hunger Games were the worst and perhaps that the ones while Katniss was in the second arena for the Quarter Quell were terrible. But they were nothing compared to the strength and terror of the ones she is now experiencing after nearly being burned alive in the square while tending to the poor children who had already been hurt so badly. It was pure luck that she had survived. Luck that had her turn and take a few life-saving steps out of the crowd.

Luck that has now saddled her with an intense survivor's guilt.

That's why she's here in District Four now. Normally, she lives in District Twelve with her sister and Peeta. Their mother has taken to living mostly in District Four because of the terrible memories that Twelve holds for her. Prim doesn't blame her at all and, really, it's good for the youngest Everdeen to be on her own every so often, to have to make the train ride by herself or with Katniss and Peeta. She doesn't mind. Prim has been learning everything she can while she's around people who can teach her and now that she's here, she's ready to learn more. Her lessons lately have been all about pre-natal care.

Because Annie. Is going to have a baby.

Today she's come to see how Annie and her baby are doing -- she's very close to term now -- and to give Finnick what she can of medicine from District 12. It isn't near what the Capitol has or should have been able to do, but the Districts know how to treat wounds with herbs. Or at least Prim was lucky enough to grow up under a mother who could do a lot with nothing.

And sometimes the herbal remedies really are the best.

Somehow Prim had convinced Katniss to come along, so after she talks with Annie and Finnick, she coaxes her sister for a walk along the beach. Prim knows these last two years have been hard on all of them, but she also knows that what they are moving towards is so much better than anything they had or could have had before. The ocean spray stings her burns a bit, the salt water doing very little to help, so Prim is wrapped up as much as she can be in the heat. The tide is out so she's at least dipping her feet in when she can.

Where the burns aren't as severe.

Today hasn't been a good day for her, not emotionally. She's been having a lot of nightmares lately and her survivor's guilt has been hitting hard. That's another reason why she's here. She needs something else to focus on, something to do and distract herself with. Katniss has it so much worse than Prim, she knows. So she's doing her best to cheer her sister up, too.

"Look, Katniss!" she calls, squatting down and digging up a handful of sand. Depositing it a little closer to her sister, she points out the crab trying to burrow back into the sand. "Isn't he cute?"

[stillplaying]

Her burns aren't nearly as bad. Though she had tried to get close to Prim, she hadn't gotten close enough. The guilt still nags at her whenever she sees her sister in pain. She should have been there. She should have been able to cover her sister's body with her own to protect her. But she hadn't been fast enough. She hadn't been where she should have been. The guilt nags at her every day. It's not nearly as bad as it had been when Prim had been in the coma; that guilt had prompted her to kill President Coin in revenge.

Her burns aren't nearly as bad but they have taken their time to heal. It doesn't help that she hadn't taken care of herself once released from the hospital, ripping the skin grafts more than once. Her hair has yet to fully grown in but slowly scars have started to cover her body instead. The months spent in confinement during her trial had given her that chance. But while her body has begun to heal, her mind is still a long way off.

She prefers being in District 12. In District 12, she gets to be with Peeta. She gets to hunt. It's not the home that she grew up in. There's so much rebuilding to be done . But it's home. She can hide from the world, safe in Peeta's arms. It's better being in District 12. But she knows that sometimes Prim needs to get away. Needs to be with their mother. Anyway, it helps to see Finnick. Another survivor. Too many survivors.

Her brow furrows at the crab that her sister points out. She doesn't see much point in it. It's not all that cute and it's so small, it really wouldn't provide much food. Not alone. They'd need a dozen at least. Katniss stares at it a few seconds more before looking at her sister. "You think all animals are cute."

beverly }{ found the place to rest my head

[counselled]

Deanna has been having an interesting time lately. Or, well, more accurately, the entire Enterprise crew has been having a difficult time lately. They each must acclimate to life back in their rightful time if they are to have a hope of healing after what they've been through. Deanna's schedule seems to have filled up overnight, barely leaving her any time to even handle anything for herself. As usual, she takes it gracefully and whatever time she has left, she takes for her own healing. She knows she is as important as anyone else and she won't sacrifice her health even though she is trying to help the health and well-being of everyone else.

With that in mind, she makes her way to sickbay. Her intent is to make sure a certain doctor is taking care of herself and not working too hard in the aftermath. While Deanna, Will, and the engineering team had been down on Earth helping Zephram Cochrane and his warp flight, the rest of the Enterprise had been up in orbit dealing with a far more serious threat: the Borg. The ground team hadn't learned of that threat until after the flight, after everything was dealt with.

Sometimes Deanna thinks they had gotten off easy. Dealing with the Borg would have been much more difficult. And then she remembers the hangover she got from trying to deal with the man of the hour and she pinches the bridge of her nose.

As it is, she needs to make sure Beverly isn't avoiding her or the rest she should be taking. So here she is, walking into sickbay. Except the doors hiss open and she isn't stepping into sickbay.

"What--" Okay, so the question is where is she. "Beverly?"

Someone approaches. "Hello, lady, would you like some--"

Thinking she knows what the end of that sentence will be, Deanna, who is convinced this is either another Borg thing or Q, interrupts. "No, I do not want another shot of tequila. I would like to be in sickbay. Computer, end program."

Because it has to be a holodeck simulation. They have enough trouble with the holodeck that all of this could just be a simulation gone wrong. Right?

...Right?

[dancingmd]

Except it's not a simulation. Or at least, if it is one, it's not going away. She's in what appears to be a saloon from the Ancient West, though the architecture and the patrons are just alien enough to tell her that this isn't one of her own programs, or even one of Alexander's old ones.

And there's dust, dust everywhere, hanging off people's clothes and hair, trailing in behind them as they walk in the front door.

The bartender she just rebuked gives her an appraising once over, then says in his slow drawl, mouth barely moving under his handlebar mustache. "Sickbay? Well, little lady, if you want the doc," he jerks a thumb behind him, towards a poker table, "She's right over there. Whatever's wrong with you, I guar-an-tee can damn well fix it. Got herself some amazing gadgets and whatsits, like nothing I ever seen, not in these parts."

Beverly's sitting at the poker table, the only woman among a group of cowboys, who all seem rather enamored of her, not paying a bit of mind to the fact that she's taking all their chips. She's not wearing her Starfleet uniform, but rather some sort of dull olive jumpsuit, reminiscent of early astronaut gear. At the moment, she doesn't notice Deanna's presence, absorbed as she is in the game.

[hisheadintheclouds]

It was just passed the witching hour of night. Everyone was fast asleep or trying to stand guard to make sure no one bad was out. However, there was a particular gush of wind that only seemed to catch their eye. What they didn't notice for what would be so obvious was a very large figure. Hiding behind a building at every moment he would notice there might be an eye on him. The giant tried desperately to blend into the night.

Name going by Arthur, he had dark hair and auburn eyes that peeked out of his dark cloak as he waited for the moment to move. Taking a breath as he weaved through the alley til he reached the destination of where he sensed the dark cloud of nightmares that was disturbing this poor woman. He carefully kneeled down as he came to the window to peer in, to make sure she was asleep, slowly getting out his materials to work his white magic for her.

[lostinthefade]

For once, Alaina is not in Skyhold. For once, she is sleeping at an Inn. Strange that she can get away with doing so, but maybe that's the whole reason she's wanted to try lately. Sure Skyhold is the safest place, but there's something to be said for other locations. That and the fact that she's tired of constantly fighting red templars and the like. It's getting old.

Fighting Corypheus is getting old. Like two thousand years old. Haha. See what she did there.

She isn't fast asleep this night and she propped her window open to get the cool breeze blowing through. Cullen is, oddly, not with her tonight, but a lot of that is due to the need for him back at Skyhold. Her advisors don't go with her when she heads out on missions, so Cullen must stay at home and worry for her. She sleeps fitfully tonight, her dreams full of nasty things. Like Tevinter Magisters and red templars and mages under Corypheus' thrall.

For now, she isn't aware of anything, but due to her not fast asleep nature, she will be quite easy to accidentally awaken.

Merlin and Beverly Crusher - Song as Old as Time

[themerlin]

Once Upon a Time, when a young doctoral student was at a medical conference, she was spied by an old man, one who had loved and lost, and knew the sorrow and the joy of both. And who, in her, a young beauty in her twenties, saw the light of joy, intelligence and hope. And something more. Something deeper. Time was a thing he saw, often, and in her, he saw a schism and a resonance, once he could feel, which seemed to call to him, both in the now, and in a future he could not yet see.

And so it was, truly, that one evening, when she was at the local coffee shop, trying to study and ignore the loud students a few tables over, that said man came by her table, spotted the text she was reading and spoke.

"Excuse me, miss, but is that a first edition of Donovan's Treatise on Spatially-Based Common and Uncommon Maladies of the Lymph System?" For the man happened to have been a healer and a doctor of sorts, in his own way, for a very long time. and knowing this, he was as interested in it as he was in her... well, almost. he was dressed finely, and one might think he was a guest lecturer at the medical conference, or perhaps something else, similar.

[ethnobotany]

Very, very young and only having just met the man who would soon become her husband, Beverly had her nose pressed to a book. Her mind was only partially on what she was reading. The rest of it was split between that young man and the discussions she had already attended at the conference. All in all, it wasn't difficult for the older man to snap her out of her thoughts, as they were fairly scattered to begin with.

Blinking up at him, she offered a smile, recognizing a fellow as soon as she saw him. Setting a bookmark into the pages, she closed the book, a tome some might say because of its sheer size, and turned it so he could see. "Yes," she replies eagerly. "I've been trying to catch up on this volume before the next discussion begins." She had a few hours and she really had been reading for the last few, so she didn't mind the interruption. "Are you familiar with it?"

malina }{ nothing's gonna hurt me with my eyes shut

[hawkeing]

Hawke's first thought was that this wasn't Adamant Fortress. For a while after she stepped out of that cloud -- the Fade or something else? -- she just held onto that thought. Her mind was drawing a blank for a lot of things she thought she should know, like the details of where she just was. Part of her thought that was her coping mechanism. Her life wasn't much of a great show at any rate.

As time went on, she began to sense that there was more to this than she had first thought. After asking for directions to the nearest city, she was told she was in a place called Australia. Most people were kind enough to try to help her and they tried to get her to stay in the city -- Sydney? -- but she refused. Most of the four months she has spent in Australia have been in the wilds. Electricity? If that's even what it is. That's scary to her and she isn't yet convinced that this isn't a trick of the Fade or that there aren't mages responsible for the electricity stuff.

She may or may not also have left a trail of spiders in her wake. Granted, she's glad these aren't anywhere near as big as the ones in Thedas. They're still spiders and they're still large enough to hit with Winter's Grasp.

For the last month or so, she has also been fighting wildfires and wildlife and whatever else needs to be done and doing a fairly good job of it when she can manage Winter's Grasp. This time, though, she dives in to save someone, pulling the woman away from the burning hillside and focusing first on healing her.

"You're going to be fine," she says, stepping between her charge and the fire. What she wouldn't do for a friend right about now.

[bredinthebone]

Malina always finds a way to be sent after the creature feature of the week. She doesn't know how she got this position exactly, but it's hers and she's here to set all of these freaking spiders on fire. Or electrocuting them. We'll see what happens.

However, also true to Malina's mission life, fighting with spiders leaves her almost dead. She is ready to hobble her way with Kali back to the car when the mage they were fighting with starts healing her and she can't help but brighten with a grateful smile.

"Thank you."

[vampere]

It's been some time coming, this particular excursion. Not that he wouldn't have been willing to wait longer still, but he might not have exactly borne it well - patience is only sometimes one of his virtues and never mind that he would have had to wait for it to actually become spring either way. But the company hasn't been bad and there's been any of a number of things to keep him busy in the Sanctuary itself.

That and he expects that there are any of a number of things that need to be done before their little vacation to Vienna, besides. No matter what else, Helen is still Helen and to be honest, he's not sure she still remembers how to take a vacation. Not that he says as much, of course, but it's still there, lurking quietly in the back of his mind, as winter turns slowly to spring and life in Sanctuary continues on much as it always has despite the change in location.

(He does, sometimes, miss the night sky, but not so much yet that he wants to actually leave, especially with the promise of Vienna near at hand.)

It comes as something of a pleasant surprise, then, when he turns up at her office bright and early on the day she's chosen for their trip only to find that - as far as he's able to tell - she's not in the middle of some bit of Important Sanctuary Business and he can't help but grin at it. Still he doesn't immediately speak up, and if she wants to head off whatever half-smug comment he no doubt has in mind at the pass, now is probably the best time to do so.

[lifelines]

Helen has, quite honestly, been surprised that Nikola hasn't run off after a fashion. Either her Sanctuary has managed to keep his attention brilliantly, he hasn't wanted to leave her so soon after finding her again, or he really is looking forward to Vienna. Perhaps it has been a combination of all three.

He has his own room, though she often invites him for a talk in her office or her room. For now, she refrains from asking him to stay the night. That offer she has plans for and they aren't for her Sanctuary.

The day he finally turns up in her office to remind her that it's time for their trip, she has decided to forego being a complete troll. This time, she is just reading a paper they've managed to get their hands on down here, which is easily set aside when she spots him. He would be right in assuming that she hasn't had a vacation in a long time and might not remember. After all, previously she only took one for a week once every seven years. God only knows what it's like now.

She tilts her head, eyebrows arching for a few seconds before she stands. "Don't get any ideas, Nikola," she warns, her tone teasing. She knows exactly what's on his mind. "Are you ready?"

It's meant as a needling question more than anything, a slight return to her trollish nature, before they can get underway.

"I've got our IDs, passports, and everything else we'll need. Private charter to Vienna. Just the way you like it."

Just the way she likes it, too.

[vampere]

There are, Tesla has decided, certain advantages to living on a space station. At least one of which is the fact that he doesn't always have to put up with strangers - something he has never exactly been good with and has no inclination to attempt to change now. Habit is a hard thing to break, after more than a few centuries, and in either case he's content enough to be who he is.

(And really, what's the point of changing, when he's going to be outliving most of the people he'd be changing for anyway?)

But it's the holodecks that he really enjoys most - he has ever since he'd first been introduced to the idea. Especially - as is the case here - when they both could use something of a change of a pace and don't have anything else immediately pressing just at the moment. Admittedly, he's had to do a bit of of convincing to get Helen to join him on this particular venture but that's been part of the fun. Even he does half-suspect that part of the reason she's agreed is because they aren't necessarily going to be there for terribly long.

On the other hand, he's long since learned to take his victories where he can. And besides, there are few enough people these days who know her habits as well as he does and that she's never been good at simply taking a moment of downtime.

So it is that they've ended up in front of the entrance to the holodeck; the only thing left to do is figure out the precise where that this little jaunt into computer generated territory will lead them.

"Lady's choice, I believe?"

He might have been the one to coax her out here in the first place, yes, but far be it for him to not offer her at least the chance to leave her own mark on the day's events. Besides, it's as much about the time spent with her as it is anything else - and given that it pretty much always has been, he'd be genuinely surprised if she wasn't aware of it by now.

[lifelines]

Deep Space Nine is a bit of a hub for space travel, but even so, the oldest people on the station have figured out how to keep to themselves when they want to. More so Nikola than Helen, though she has figured out the personalities and what to expect from those who call the station their home. People like Quark, the Ferengi, though she suspects part of him backing off of his monetary gain methods might have been due to Nikola. Today Quark had been happy enough to let them in as long as they paid, as usual, and Helen is quite pleased that they didn't have to worry too much about what he wanted or needed.

Or was curious about.

She knows he'll be checking the logs to see what program they use and that is, at least partially, why she decides on the one she chooses. So when Nikola asks, she flashes him a cheeky grin.

"Sherlock Holmes. Volume One."

And then she steps into the holodeck, well aware that she will be on the receiving end of an entertaining face for this and regretting absolutely nothing at all.

Any :D?

[aster_planetes]

Teleios is a strange city, Roshanak has decided. Oh, the whole situation is strange, even if not entirely unexpected. Grabbing people from all kinds of worlds and times and tossing them together while giving them a quest or three (moral or otherwise) sounds like just the thing a sorcerer or overly bored and powerful djinn would do. She's never heard of anyone or anything with this kind of power, but it's merely an extension of what she's been made aware of, rather than something new entirely.

No, the strangeness is more to do with the sun.

Roshanak's people are both people of the steppes and astronomers: that the sky is unchanging, day after day, is...Strange.

Disturbing, even.

She's trying to distract herself, which her teachers would say is easy but in actual fact is not. It's not easy when her mind goes again and again to the sun just in that after dawn glow, no matter what she does. On the other hand, she's been trying to avoid buildings. These buildings are not like the ones in Yr and the other cities, with a number built with centaurs in mind. No, the only people this city had in mind were those human-sized.

But there's nothing for it. She's just going to have to make her way to the library anyway. Books. That's what she needs, books.

She'll just...have to remember to duck and hope there's nothing too interesting on the lower shelves.

/tosses someone random XD

[vesselofthespirit]

Wynne has yet to decide if she likes the perpetual daylight herself. In its own way, she supposes it is quite nice. The sun is warm and inviting, more than she would ever get to see in the Circle, that's for sure. All the same, it reminds her of what she could not have growing up, the outside world she so enjoyed. Life here is very different from Thedas, extremely different, but it has its uses, good moments and ideals that settle in and make the place good. Better than Thedas in many ways.

Not being connected to the Fade is still difficult to get used to. Not dreaming, even more so.

Today, she has decided to make it a day spent in the library. After her shift in the infirmary, of course. You can take the Spirit Healer out of Thedas, but you can't take the Spirit Healer's insatiable desire to heal out of her.

Peering up at the large -- she's going to say person because that's the polite way to deal with this -- person walking in, Wynne offers a smile. "Looking for something in particular?" she asks, willing to help if necessary.

ron }{ victory comes in many forms

[loyalotter]

Getting back to normal after the Battle of Hogwarts would be difficult for all of them. So many of them have gone through so much this year. In some respects, the battle itself was the easy part. Everything prior to that -- being on the run, the torture suffered at the hands of people like Bellatrix or the Carrows, and all of the discoveries made along the way -- was the hardest part.

However, even though the battle has been won, they are all aware that the end has not yet come. Most people gravitate towards the Boy Who Lived, leaving Hermione to her own thoughts. Eventually, the Trio ducks out of the Great Hall entirely. Harry decides on time alone -- Hermione suspects he will want to speak with Ginny sooner or later -- and Hermione takes a breather outside. She also suspects she will end up in the library sooner or later, because that is what Hermione Granger does. For now, she feels that shoring up defenses and inspecting damages is a better use of her time and energy.

Though the Death Eaters seem to have come for the battle itself, she does not for an instant believe that the threat Voldemort posed is entirely gone. Likely it won't be for some time; the least she can do right now is focus on what can be done for the people still inside. Otherwise, her mind will wander to less pleasant topics.

Like how and when she's going to try to find her parents.

[sacrificemyself]

Ron, for his part, would be perfectly content to never leave his family's side again for as long as he lives. Between Percy finally coming to his senses and coming home, and then... Fred... and the fact that his mum had had to face off with Bellatrix Lestrange herself to keep the evil harpy from killing her only daughter, it's little wonder that the matriarch can hardly stand on her own two feet. He hates seeing her this way, and he wants to be by her side, but there's hardly any room there after the initial hugs upon realizing their youngest son would be coming back home. Besides, even with everything else that had happened, the harshest blow had been Fred, and Ron just doesn't have it in him to watch his parents and especially George mourning over him.

Besides, his family extends beyond the people related to him by blood. He assumes that Harry would need not just a friend, but a support system, and so he goes looking for Hermione. All else aside, the pair of them can stand to have a talk. Maybe a talk about elves. That last one had ended pretty well, after all.

When he finds her, though, it's clear from the look on her face that talking about elves wouldn't do him any favors one way or the other, and he stops, debating how he should approach this. It's far from the first time he's caught her in a thoughtful mood, but things are... different now. And he doesn't know how different. Blimey, he hadn't realized just how complicated this whole thing can be.

But he hates complications, and so he makes the conscious choice not to look at this that way. Whatever they might be now, he'd always been her friend, and he isn't about to just pretend he doesn't see that she's upset. So he comes up besides her, not entirely sure what to expect as he gingerly settles his hand on her back.

"Something tells me you didn't decide to leave the party because they ran out of butterbeer."

tfln }{ open

[artpassions]

a. My Easter Basket from my parents consisted of one chocolate bunny and a massive amount of condoms and a single note saying

b. He asked if I had any questions. Apparently, "how thick is the stick up your ass" was not a correct question....

c. I don't want to just break his heart, I want to dip it in liquid nitrogen and then smash it until it's powder and snort the powder. You do not hurt my daughter.

d. idk text her

a

[themerlin]

Seems they think they know what you'll be up to in the near future.

squall }{ can we choose to play a different role

[ruinga]

Lightning shades her eyes against the sunlight glinting off the Steppe. With the fal'Cie Titan roaming in the distance, she's pretty well convinced that whatever awoke out here since the last time they were on Pulse isn't going to be their friend. A back-up that isn't happy to see them, as everything else has been.

"Tch."

Letting her hand drop, she moves along the edge of the ridge to her left, back towards the area where Fang and Hope are waiting for her. There's a behemoth-type nearby and a bunch of goblins. Lightning just hopes they won't notice her. It's funny that she doesn't mind these things as much anymore. Their first trip to Pulse was... a learning experience. After dealing with all of these things on Eden, including but not limited at all to a giant Adamantoise with feet larger than all of them put together, Lightning feels pretty confident that they can handle whatever Pulse has to offer.

Not that she's about to go looking for trouble. That's Snow's job.

"World's gone to hell," she mutters to herself as she walks back. Time to move on. They're only here to deal with the Cie'th stones and prepare to take on whatever awaits them at Orphan's Cradle. Whatever happens, they have to be ready.

[fatedcircle]

To be perfectly honest, things have been strange for Squall for... well, he's not entirely certain. He knows, distantly, that this probably isn't where he should be, or at least isn't where he used to be (and somewhere in the back of his mind, just of reach, drifts a word - a set of words - that begins with 'Time' but even that is half remembered at best). But he knows how to fight, and how to fend for himself, and that's enough. He's never needed anyone else and he's not going let being somewhere he doesn't recognize stop him.

(Keep going, even if nothing else makes sense, he figures. Sooner or later he'll have to come across something and that's the best he's got right now.)

Fortunately for Lightning, the behemoth-variant doesn't seem to be terrible interested in her at the moment. The goblins might have been, but just at the moment they seem to more interested in the stranger who's just come over up the other side of the ridge - a stranger who seems to be fighting with a very unusual sort of sword, at that. Still, he fights well enough; like this is basically what he's been trained to do from a very young age, and one by one the goblins start to fall.

...And then he drops a Blizzard into the middle of group, casual as anything, and without even so much as breaking stride.

(He doesn't think about it either. He might not have used it all that much, before ending up here, but it's normal to him. The fact that somewhere between one place and another the rules might have changed doesn't so much as occur to him.)

[vampere]

While there are certainly advantages - and unique opportunities! - that come with living on a space station, there's no denying that there are sometimes drawbacks. Mostly, however, this tends to mostly mean that it's harder to get decent wine than Tesla would like, with a side of putting up with various rigors and stresses of actually teaching, which he has never entirely had the patience for.

(And never mind that he is actually good at it, for all that it frustrates him no end on the best of days.)

And then there are days where there other problems, as has been the case of late, as an alien virus all but sweeps through the station. Tesla, naturally, has been merrily keeping up with his usual habits, largely on the assumption that if he hasn't gotten sick through so many centuries on Earth (barring, perhaps, the brief span of time during which he'd been mortal again) that he isn't going to do so now. After all, his vampiric nature has to be good for something apart from letting him spend quite possibly the rest of eternity with Helen.

(Which he is most certainly not complaining about.)

It has, however, slipped his mind that something of a non-terrestrial origin might just be better able to get a foothold in a system that is essentially a hybrid of two species; when he finds himself not feeling quite as well as he might have otherwise he chalks it up to being nothing more than the strain of having to pick up a few more things than he might have otherwise on account of plague currently making its way through the ranks, as it were.

But someone who happens to him very nearly as well as he knows himself might just be able that things aren't as they normally are.

[lifelines]

Helen had known something was wrong the second the illness started sweeping the station. The head doctor -- Chief Medical Officer, as they called Doctor Bashir -- was working tirelessly to figure out what was happening and Helen offered as much help as she could. Perhaps that was why it came as no surprise for anyone except her that she eventually caught it.

Helen Magnus hasn't fallen ill in centuries. Why is it suddenly possible now? It's like the alien virus mutated to bypass the vampire blood in her DNA and managed to attack her human system head-on. If she weren't attempting to keep her exact age hidden, as much as possible, she would be more willing to find out the exact cause and effect. As it is, Doctor Bashir orders her to bed and so that is where she can be found.

In bed and quite grumpy besides.

This is, perhaps, why it has taken her so long to realize that Nikola has also somehow managed to fall ill, just as she has, and that realization has her as cranky as her own illness.

"For the last time, sit down. You'll only make it worse on yourself."

tfln }{ open

[lifelines]

a) There's a potato with a bite taken out of it in the kitchen. I really don't want to know, do I?

b) Do you know how close I got to burying him in the Egyptian sand?

c) I just watched an intern spill two trays of coffee inside a spinning door. 1) I'm glad I don't have to smell it all day and 2) that's the only good ending for coffee.

d) I just received a very odd text: "You are not the cause of late onset lesbianism." I haven't decided if I should be flattered or offended. Know anything about it?

d

[fishermansweater]

Personally I think whoever sent that should just embrace bisexuality. But no. I have no idea.

[Of course, whether or not she believes him is up to Helen]

tfln }{ open

[panicswitched]

a) I can't find my keys and there's a hotdog in my purse. Which one of you replaced my keys with a hotdog?

b) Help me help you realize you are a moron.

c) I found a 9 minute video of you singing into an eggplant. What the hell dude?

a

[fatedcircle]

I'll talk to Zell.

finnick + annie }{ this is how you remind me

[ethnobotany]

Beverly only vaguely remembers where in her timeline she came from after over a year of not living in it. She distinctly recalls falling asleep on the Enterprise-D, in her quarters, before her eyes fly open and she gasps for breath. It takes her a few seconds to properly process the multitude of emotions flying around her head and the clashing memories all jumbled up again. Pressing a hand to her head, she takes a few deep breaths, pushing everything aside to focus on--

--Ah right. The Borg.

"Doctor--?"

"I'm fine," she insists as her captain and lost patient emerge from the Jeffries' Tube. "Let's go."

Ignoring any other protests, she follows Captain Picard and the others to the Bridge. A fleeting thought, and the angry emotions that come with it, passes through her as she realizes that Annie and Finnick aren't here. Q must have made her break her promise to them and she hates him even more for that. She doesn't care that he sent her home; what she cares about is that they never get sent back to Panem.

Never.

All of that is shoved to the back of her mind as she climbs out of the maintenance shaft onto the Bridge to find several officers pointing phaser rifles at two people lying on the ground. At first, nothing seems to be happening, but then someone shifts and Beverly gets a good look at the two people barely waking up.

"Annie! Finnick!"

She doesn't waste time. Knowing that one, if not both, of them will likely cave to an instinctual fight response in this situation -- and who could blame them? -- she pushes forward, shoving people out of her way until she can fall to he knees next to Annie and Finnick.

"It's okay. It's Beverly. I'm right here. You're safe."

For... various values of safe.

She can hear Jean-Luc calling in the background, but she ignores him. Any questions can be answered later. Annie and Finnick are her most important concern right now.

helen }{ i wanna break every clock

[panicswitched]

"You have got to be kidding me."

The typical words that seem to come with Ashley's arrival in some new place these days pull from her raw throat, like they haven't been used in a while. After sorting through her original arrival in Paradisa, getting dumped into Teleios hadn't been bad. Here? Wherever here is... it can't be any worse than being stripped of her powers or her memory. Speaking of, she quickly checks both. Thor's gift to her is still there -- not that she's really all that happy with it, but that's her fault; he did warn her -- and she can still call on the evil scientists' "gifts."

It would be almost comical to think about how used to those Cabal-given gifts she is these days if she didn't still hate how they came about. Two years. She's had two years to--

Something moves in the distance, through the darkness of what seems to be some kind of warehouse. Ashley freezes, eyes wide as she waits to see if the thing is nearby. When it doesn't appear again, she slowly reaches for her gun. Only to find that, once again, she's minus a weapon. Peachy.

"Getting tired of waking up without my gun," she mutters to herself. Not that she is by any means completely helpless without it, but it's the principle of the matter.

Carefully, she pushes herself to her feet. Time to see what she can stealthily find out here. Maybe she can lure the thing into the patch of light across the warehouse. So that's what she tries to do. Slowly and quietly, making only enough noise as she moves to ensure that whatever is trapped in here with her will follow her out.

AU!shifter Helen it is; pigeon/fox

[promnibusanctis]

And here she is again, a fox. It's not the first time nor the last, but usually it's Nikola's favorite of the two, the pigeon, she gets stuck in. She can hear the drumming of rain against the flat roof of the warehouse as she hears sound and flattens herself, slinking across the ground. Her nose lifts as she catches a familiar scent and she tilts her head, following the noise with her ears flat, all caution. Helen darts carefully through the shadows, confused.

It's familiar, too familiar, and it's definitely not Nikola. She knew he'd have innuendo at the ready for that comment, she can almost hear him and it's nearly as bad as if he was there.

When she does, finally, hit the patch of light, she freezes, her bright eyes shining.