bitofhim_inside: (bored)
[personal profile] bitofhim_inside
Since flashing in, Zoe's been sticking with Rachel. She honestly considered stopping in Metropolis, enrolling back in law school or at least volunteering in the government, rebuilding society from within.

She still intends to do that, really.

Eventually.

But somehow every time she's decided to just up and leave, something's come up. A new flash, a new danger she could help with. Or she just hadn't assessed herself or Rachel to be in the right mood to have the conversation about leaving.

So she's stuck with Rachel. Letting Rachel take directions from Innovator, shooting things that need shooting, acting like a pro when subtlety was needed, , and generally being the tag-along human.

(She doesn't mind being the tag-along human. She prefers it when she doesn't have to use her arsenal. But she's growing comfortable in the role.)

And today, when Zoe goes to to take a walk she's armed and okay with that, because they're not currently staying in the safe zone.

And then there's a 

FLASH
BANG

And she changes her direction.
beliefovermisery: (Default)
[personal profile] beliefovermisery
October's cold this year. In a bit of what Sokka's learned to be Kansas' practical nature jokes, the balmy summer weather earlier this week turned to frost and freeze in the last two days. Mel won't like it, or the others who help with the farming, and Sokka's not a great fan of his fingers sticking to the metal he works with in the forge, but overall, he doesn't mind.

A big part of why he doesn't mind is that icy roads mean Steph can't drive into Smallville to get to work and that means Sokka can whine and cajole her into playing hooky even after the frost melts away.

He is very proud of himself, coming out of the farm with a thermos of hot cider and looking for the pushy wife who demanded it with a smug grin.
[identity profile] bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com
Title: Life After...
Location: Kansas; ShatterEarth




Flash. Bang.

His ears hurt. His Self hurt, but he couldn't think on that for long.

He couldn't afford to think on much else except a very few specific things: Namely, to recall as quickly as he could what had happened to him. It had felt like almost an entire year but the ringing in his ears made him question that. Had it been a couple of days? Had he been drea -- No.

No, he hadn't been dreaming and the stuffed plushie tucked under one arm was a testament that the last however-long hadn't been a dream. Renne puzzled a little longer over this. It was known to happen; he'd experienced it before -- time-jumps, being flung from one thing to the next and either losing or gaining Time, depending on where or when he ended up. It was logical and in an odd way, it made a sick sort of sense.
A door slammed in his face 'there', cutting him off from the two people he'd Bonded with. A Space-Time....belch had snatched him up and spat him out somewhere/somewhen else.
So Renne dropped to all fours and started crawling.


Renne hadn't kept track of how far or how long he'd crawled. His knowledge extends to precisely what he's crawling through and hoping he's not crawling in circles. Around and above him, overgrown plants of something unfamiliar to him tower like a freakish forest. Still, either it's crawl his way through it in hopes of finding something or stop. And think. And he right now, doesn't really want to think.

Just get somewhere.
[identity profile] not-scully.livejournal.com
It was Dean's fault.

See, if Dean hadn't been so busy with Jo and that girl at the farm, maybe he would have been as restless as Sam and maybe they would have found things to do, monsters to hunt, people to save, etc. etc. the Winchester Way. And if they'd been doing that, Sam would not have found himself up against a supernatural creature with Leah at his back.

Not that Leah's... that is, yeah, she's blind, but... because he totally respects her and her past as a superhero, it's just...

Anyway, none of that is the point. Because it's Dean's fault.

But these complaints don't really pop up until later.



Right now, Sam is not cursing Dean. He's thanking him. Mentally thanking him, of course, because Dean's occupation with two women in separate cities keeps him both busy and distant. And this gave Sam plenty of freedom to spend with the female of his choice... without having to listen to Dean be rude and inappropriate.

And spending time with Leah, even just making fun of each others drink choices, was always nice.

So when they both admitted to being bored one day, and had been for several days, with no plans in the near future and no obligations they could think of, Sam found himself saying "Road trip?" and was delighted to hear her agreement.

Granted, he wasn't sure where to go or what to do and, on second thought, wondered if being in a car for an extended period of time was like torture to a blind person. But by that point, Leah had already agreed and he'd been half-packed. They could always come back early.


So there's Sam and there's Leah and there's the Porsche around them, zooming along the road and occasionally bouncing over potholes. And worries or not, the driver of the car looks very content.
[identity profile] in-the-pages.livejournal.com
The last thing Fynn remembered was drinking his morning coffee, and checking the news on his favourite websites.

Now he has a ringing in his ears, a splitting headache, and his flat is nowhere to be found. Instead, he seems to be standing thigh-deep in seawater.

...It's cold.

Give him a moment to catch up, won't you?
alwaysroomforhope: (biting lip giggly)
[personal profile] alwaysroomforhope
Every little town in Kansas has a bar, still.

Kansas is the only place left in the world where that's so. Everywhere else in the world is pretty much a war zone these days, but life really hasn't changed that much in smalltown Kansas.

Smallville's a bit bigger these days, with a lot more refugees than ever used to come through, but the bar in town is pretty much the same as it ever was.

Just a small room, smelling of cigarettes and beer. Usually populated with between three and ten men, mostly over sixty, talking about the latest events on their farms and sometimes the football. The barman is older than the lot of them, small and wiry and cheerful. (He's named Tom ... of course.) Lots of strangers come and go, of course, and there's plenty of gossip about what's been done to the old Kent place, with its hospital and cruise ship and castle.

The only concession Tom's made to the increased business since the apocalypse is to hire a new girl to help keep up with the drink orders. She's cheerful and sassy, gets on well with the regulars and always seems friendly to everyone. And since she started working, nobody's managed to steal from the place, and there've been almost no fights.

Tom puts that down to her cheerful smile. At least, out loud. He figures it's probably best for their working relationship that way.


It's early evening, and the sun's setting over the cornfields. Anyone want a drink?
tobeclosetohim: (Girl & Her Gun)
[personal profile] tobeclosetohim
Going back means prepping.


And prepping mean guns.


And Jo? Likes guns.
[identity profile] notanoptimist.livejournal.com
There are important things going on around the farm. Extremely important. Devastatingly important. Life-changing important.

...because if Hana and Loo don't start getting formal lessons in something other than Firebending, their uncle is going to explode.

Thus, there is a young man and two toddlers in the grass outside the farm house, playing with alphabet blocks.

"Can you find your name, Hana?"

"'s."

At least Sokka is quick enough to catch the block she throws at his face. He examines it for a moment, then nods.

"Good job! Find your name again, in Daddy's writing."

Hana frowns, considering this. Meanwhile, Loo discovers her name and hands it nicely to her uncle.


Lessons are coming along nicely, in Sokka's opinion.
[identity profile] no-devo-quotes.livejournal.com
Sonia is a woman with a hammer. Also some nails, boards, and other carpentry-related paraphernalia, because there are things that need to be fixed, and Sonia needs to be busy.

She is also a woman with a toddler, who is a boy with a (very small, toy) hammer. He's occupying himself with pounding nails into the dirt. It is very engrossing work.
[identity profile] herd-u-liek.livejournal.com
It's Spring! It's Spring! Yay yay yay!

There are flowers budding on the sidewalk! There are lots of puddles to splash in!

OK yes there are still murderplants to worry about, but Mudkip will keep subway locations and hiding spots in mind because it was a looooong winter and he really, really wants to play now!

Yaaaaaaaay! Photobucket
[identity profile] apocalypsebaby.livejournal.com
Spots has been growing. This isn't so surprising; things tend to grow. And his mommy, after all, was about the size of California.

But it takes food to grow. And he isn't getting enough, and he's huuuuuungry.


Slosh. Slosh. Slosh. This is a kraken about the size of a minibus, including tentacles, oozing up the slope towards the front door of the farm, large eyes fixed on the kitchen door.
alwaysroomforhope: (twins: auntie steph!)
[personal profile] alwaysroomforhope
Winter may still think it is dragging itself out, and it may have these ideas about how it's going to stay cold and crisp, but Steph knows better.

The sky is blue today and there's a hint of warmth in the sun and that means it is properly spring and therefore nobody can complain if she stretches out on a lawn chair in the lawn with a book and basks a little in what sunshine there is.

(wearing long sleeves, because she's not insane and doesn't plan to die of hypothermia either.)
slayer_fray: (playtime)
[personal profile] slayer_fray
Do you know what is awesome?

BUBBLES is awesome.

No, really. See, someone looted (Dinah and Zinda) a factory's worth of liquid soap and sent vast amounts to the farm. Someone else (Steph) knew where to get glycerol and what happens when you add water, liquid siap and glyercol together. And someone else (Sokka) fashioned a bunch of wands of various sizes.

Although, actually, the tennis racket is Loo's favourite.

Mel, Loo and Hana are all out on the grass between bunker and farmhouse with a huge bucket of bubble mix, making a moderate mess.

Bubbles are awesome. Join them.
[identity profile] whoiwasmeant2be.livejournal.com
Like anyone, Tobias is good at some things and terrible at others. One of the things he's good at, though, is observation. And he's noticed that Rachel has been... preoccupied recently. He's perched on a small tree thinking about this, trying to decide if he should ask what's up.

He won't, of course. That's not really how they operate. But he does think about it.
trickswithsticks: (pondering)
[personal profile] trickswithsticks
Leah could, if she wanted, call up any number of people and ask them to do her a favour by giving her a lift to the farm.

She chooses to take a cab because that's one step closer to independence, and she's weird like that.

Which is why, one afternoon, said cab pulls up alongside the farm and deposits a blonde woman in sunglasses and carrying a white cane, who tips generously before it heads off. She takes a few seconds to orient herself before heading up the path towards the farmhouse.

She's hoping to find a person in particular, but anyone who gets in her way will be spoken to.
[identity profile] bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com
Title: Anchorage Unknown
Character/s: Renne
Location: Portsmouth Harbour
Rating: G
Status: Open





There hadn't been much in London to explore aside from empty buildings.

Ghosts of themselves, really.

So he'd moved on and eventually found himself at a Portsmouth shipyard.
The boon of finding this place, as he carefully found out, was the vast number of empty ships still in dock. Moored to their places, those ships waited for crews that probably would never show up. This was a boon. This was also a drawback. If there had been one thing Renne had learned it was that you don't take light any ship. Ghost-ship, abandoned ship, any ship. It saddened him to crawl across silent, rotting decks and anytime he ran face-first into a mainmast or a mizzen, he felt like crying.

That was not however, logical.

The logical thing to do was to find a small enough, suitable vessel and take to the sea.

The problem was, when he eventually found such a vessel, Renne knew he couldn't take her out right off. He had to learn her first and not just how to handle this tiny little ketch.
It wasn't all that common, True-blind wannabe-sailors.
[identity profile] selflesslight.livejournal.com
Today, Val can be found wandering the Cooper farm, looking for an Intuition.

(Her brother is a newt. A fucking newt. Living in a bucket and eating ants. Yeah, this is a problem.)
trickswithsticks: (lost in thought)
[personal profile] trickswithsticks
So Sam's gone off to Nebraska with Dean and Jo. this is good; Leah approves, especially as he took a radio so Leah can find him if she needs him.

She's determined not to need him. which is perfectly normal and just one of Leahs' 'totally independent and needs no one and ntohgin, thank you' quirks she's got going on. Besides, Oracle was true to her word and is providing Leah with plenty to do. In between missions from afar, she's busying herself with things that distract her from thinking about how much she wants him around.

One of those things is heavy metal music. Which is why she's leaving her apartment in Metropolis; she knows a market that occasionally trades in scavaneged goods. that they often contain CDs.

Catch her there or en route, or even on the radio - Innovator is always wired in.
[identity profile] blueisboring.livejournal.com
The roads in Kansas are, right now, the best kept roads in the world. The road approaching the Cooper Farm is no exception, and for a driver who's been struggling with a lot of snowed in roads before crossing Safe Zone borders, it's a welcome relief.

Thought it might be a little less welcome for the passengers, as speeds pick up and confidence breeds recklessness even in these conditions. But the green Sedan skids only a little bit as it halts in front of the farm, and three people and a dog bundle out.

Three and a half people. Under Ai-Ling's bright red duffel coat, the curve of a pregnancy approaching the end of its second trimester can be clearly made out.

"We're here," she announces, needlessly.

[OOC: Three pups, three muns, three timezones. Post is OPEN but slowtimes inevitable.]
[identity profile] the-backfiring.livejournal.com
Not far from the farm is a city called Great Bend, whose outskirts are a spruced-up trailer park. It's not the most comfortable place in the world to live, but for a fit man it's walking distance from the farm.

Why doesn't Adam just live on the farm, you ask?

Here, he's more assured of privacy. And every three days, Adam has a great need for privacy.

A lot of the trailers around here are abandoned. But signs of life remain: the well dug in a broad patch of earth; footprints in the thick snow; smoke coming from a few of the scattered chimneys.

The thermals aren't great around here, but what can you expect when the weather's so cold? Maybe that's why the difference over that one house is so noticeable. That one down there, with the recently-repaired roof and the vaguely sole-shaped muddy patch out front where someone has been coming and going.

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