(no subject)

[lastblackhawk.livejournal.com]

Metropolis is basically, yeah, Zinda's favourite place. It's hopping with life, people and parties and shops, and it's crammed full of folk who know the world's ended and just want to party.

Which suits the Birds fine.

Chaney's is a well-known meta club in Zinda's world, and apparently that much held true through the apocalypse; the inside is crammed full of humans and metas both, dancing and drinking and making a hell of a lot of noise. Zinda would really kinda like to be inside with them. Where the hell's the rest of her party?

Goldy and Claire should be out of the bathroom any time soon. Dinah and Babs are still off somewhere doin' something. It's not like Spoiler and her Not-My-Boyfriend-Zinda-Okay to be late for a rendezvouz; vaguely, Zinda's beginning to worry for anyone in their immediate vicinity, should they have found trouble. But everyone'll turn up soon, surely.

In the meantime: there's a tall, statesque blonde in uniform with a ridiculously short skirt, leaning on the bricks outside Chaney's and surreptitiously lighting a cigarette while the Skipper's not around.

(no subject)

[13th-doctor.livejournal.com]

It's taken a little while to find, but this place definitely fits the description of an odd collection of buildings - so, a blue police telephone box materialises in a conventient open space near the farmhouse, ad a blonde head pokes out.

"Hello, the farm!" She calls.

(no subject)

[hates-spiders.livejournal.com]

The problem with the farm, Venom's found, is that there's a distinct lack of shadowy, dramatic places to perch on and monologue from. Which is why he's had to settle for sitting on the roof of the house with a decidedly annoyed expressed, eyepatches narrowed as he peers at the ground below.

"Some days we regret the fact that nothing drops into Kansas directly," he grumbles as he keeps watching. "It would provide us with more spur of the moment entertainment than we currently get."

(no subject)

[mominnafridge.livejournal.com]

Not being bleeding, on fire and stuck to the ceiling? Very good news.

Being cold, alone, barefoot and in her nightgown by the side of a road who-knows-where? Slightly less good news.

Mary Winchester arrives in this world in much the same way she'd been afraid she was going to leave her old one - with a flash, a bang, and a great deal of discomfort.