And life goes on.

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.

(no subject)

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?

(no subject)

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.

(no subject)

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)

(no subject)

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.

(no subject)

There is a small group huddled over by the bunker, obviously deeply involved in serious work. In this case, the serious work is also known as 'art class.'

"Done!" Loo announces suddenly.

Sokka looks up, setting his pen down. "Lemme see."

Pleased, Loo shoves a piece of paper in his face. When he takes it to examine the drawings, she decides to chew on her crayons a bit.

Sokka grabs it out of her mouth and, in the same motion, tucks her up against his side. "This is beautiful," he informs her, grinning. "Who's this?"

"Mom!"

"And this one?"

"S'eph!"

The introductions continue. The remaining art student stays devoted to her work, obviously far more dedicated than her uncle and sister.
Entry tags:

(no subject)

There are three places you might find Lucy today:

1. Flying away from the Cooper farm, carrying an empty sack, glossy black wings flapping industriously as she heads directly for the nearest source of pears.

2. Flying toward the Cooper farm, carrying a sack of pears, paying more attention to the ground and her surroundings and flying a little slower now that her mission is complete.

3. Sitting in the kitchen of the Cooper farmhouse, human-shaped, munching on a tasty fresh pear with the rest piled high in a very large bowl on the table in front of her.
slayer_fray: (playtime)

(no subject)

There are three people sitting out on the grass by the farm house.

Three people and a cake.

Three people and a cake, and some presents.

Three people, a cake, some presents and party equipment.

One of the paper blowers is already on fire.

Say this about the Frays: They can throw a party.
Entry tags:

(no subject)

There is a radio, in Kansas, in Smallville, on a farm, in a bunker, in a room, by a crib.

It's crackling.

"Mel? ... Mel?"

(no subject)

First, Babs and Steph had a conversation that's been coming for a while.

Then Sokka said he was going away. Just for a little while, but still - going away.

Now, Steph is out on the outskirts of the farm, running laps of the entire property as hard and fast as she can, just outside the border of the fields that marks the edges of the farm.

(no subject)

Dear Diary...
Steph sighs and puts her diary back down on her lap. She's watching Hana and Loo play out in front of the farmhouse. They're happily occupied with seeing who can cough the biggest fireball, and Steph is, therefore, lightly scorched. Luckily, the girls are more excited by explosions these days than by burning people, and they're now contentedly playing with each other.

Steph's smiling at them, because they're adorable. But that's all she has to smile about. The journal on her lap is still blank, and she's chewing her pen thoughtfully. (She has not yet noticed that she's chewed through the end and therefore now has a blue ink-stained lip. It's the newest fashion, bb.)
Entry tags:

(no subject)

Lucy is sitting on the edge of the farmhouse roof, human-shaped, not moving or really doing much at all. Occasionally she swings her bare feet in the breeze.

She would be quite accepting of company.
slayer_fray: (moody)

(no subject)

At the wall where the farmhouse is afforded the least possible visibility from the more crowded areas of the farm, a quarter-lump of brick falls pointlessly to the ground. Mel, nursing her knuckles, glares at it.

She's familiar with the practice, when you're so pent up with frustration and anger and hatred that you have to punch something, of finding an innocent wall and taking it out on that, and is annoyed to fins out that a) it's not nearly as satisfying as common wisdom holds, and b) it's much much less of a good idea when there's a possibility you might actually win a fight with a building.

She nudges the brick against the base of the house, deciding she'd better get Toph to reattach it later, and turns her attention back to her hand.

Frustration not satisfied, hand hardly injured, house probably not hurting that much from its loss. All in all, a completely no-win situation.

(no subject)

You know how if you repeat a word often enough in your head, it loses all meaning and starts sounding like nonsense? You know the word has a definition and it should mean something to you but at that moment, there's nothing to it. It's blank and empty and just there.



Sokka is standing in front of a small pyre a mile or two down the road from the farm. He wanted to be away from the main house, for attention and to spare anyone else the smoke and smell. It's been burning most of the night and is in the process of dying down, but even that should take a few more hours. At least until after the sun's come up.

The body resting on the wood base is small and slender and wrapped up in a bed sheet.

He has a feeling he should be feeling something.

But if you get your heart broken enough, it stops making the effort to heal and you stop feeling the effects of it.


He's watching the flames more than the body.

(no subject)

This is all so far out of Katara's control!

It is probably that nobody is venturing this far from the household without a reason. Katara has a reason: her face is starting to rot off, and she hasn't been able to find anyone to drain, and she's so terribly afraid that Sokka will come back any moment and find her, and she can't avoid Toph for much longer without the other girl getting suspicious, and and and it's all so hard being a deadly killer zombie and NOBODY UNDERSTANDS HER and --

Anyone who has wandered these fields over may find a small, foul-smelling, rotting lump of girl sitting on an abandoned horsetrough and wasting precious moisture by crying.

Good luck to them.

(no subject)

Long hard night of work, and nothing but baked beans in the local grocery store? Feh.

Jane sighs, and buys three immensely overpriced cans anyway. It's not as if there's anything else around this week. Life is more fun in Metropolis since the apocalypse, but it's a lot harder, too, in some really unexpected ways.

It occurs to her just before she opens her front door that she's left her stompy boots at the club - with the night's takings stashed in the toe. Damn. That won't be there tomorrow if she doesn't go back now.

So:


Dawn is breaking over Metropolis, and a tired-looking girl in jeans and a sweater is walking down a seedy street, alone.

(no subject)

Things have spiralled wildly out of Katara's control. It seemed like such a good idea at the time - it really did.

But now?

It's all happened so fast and it's got so big. She doesn't know how to stop this. But people are getting hurt.

As long as Sokka doesn't find out ... things might be okay.



She's sitting out the front of the farmhouse, a huddled lump against a tree, tears tracking through the dust on her face. It's been a couple of days since she's washed or brushed her hair. Oddly enough, she's practically glowing with health.

(no subject)

[In Metropolis, Steph has a "friendly chat" with Batman. It could have gone better - but then, it could have gone so much worse. Then she is upset, and it isn't helped by certain revelations. Sokka is calming and steady and soothing until he finds out about Batman and then he yells at her. They are very-a-lot sappy and very much codependent, in a probably-vaguely-unhealthy way. Things will be okay in the end, though. Things will be fine. Of course they will.

Steph hopes.]

(no subject)

Dean is also in Metropolis, in a much better mood. He and Sammy have staked an apartment close to the outskirts (but not too far from the city) and he's currently raiding every house in that street for knives, booze or weaponry. Most of the gun shops have been looted by now, but he's sure that there'll still be weapons in people's houses - pistols, rifles, silver knives, dried-up garlic, whatever, he's good.

[placeholder is also placeholder. ZZZ GNIGHT]
slayer_fray: (thoughtful)

(no subject)

Last night was...

...last night was just what Mel needed to work out some of her issues right now :-D?

Since coming back, she's been doing rounds of the farm with a determined eye, making lists of things that need doing, doing some of the more urgent things; maybe she's spoken to you about what you need to do, but it's possible she hasn't yet caught upon all the gossip.

Now, as Hana and Loo play together in the grass, she's sitting and staring comtemplatively at a car that once flew. Funny how, even though one may have a genius mechanic for a brother and live with still more, there are some things for which help still cannot be asked for.

Mel wants to make it work again, and she's not sure where to start.