shatterverse | Entries tagged with stephanie brown (au)

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?

Current Location: smallville pub

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.)

Current Location: Cooper Farm

notanoptimist.livejournal.com

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.

theresnodoor

Rachel. Finally. Healed.

And almost the exact moment she realized that the wound on her chest had lightened and faded into a permanent scar, she was out the door of the now-spotless apartment, on the street, around the corner, up the ladder, onto the roof and morphing.

Sweet, sweet, powerful, wonderful, unimaginable morphing.

The eagle. Oh, the eagle and it's incredible eyesight, the warm thermals off the blacktop sending huge clouds of hot air billowing up under her wings, sending her straight up into the air, one hundred, two hundred, five hundred feet straight up off the ground. The lake she saw miles away, counting blades of grass on the shore twenty minutes before she got there, then diving screaming straight down, talons flared and wonderful screeching predator cry. Scraping a fish with the talons and letting it go, wings flared and almost ricocheting back up into the air, so fast and sharp.

Landing in the nearby woods and demorphing, then just as quickly, morphed again. Huge and powerful, oh yes, the bear, her bear, her grizzly. Thick coarse brown fur and horrible beady nearsighted eyes, thick corded muscle, nothing in the world could stop her. Rearing up on her back legs to a great height of eight feet, cute little fuzzy ears brushing the leaves as she swung a paw as big as a frying pan and cracked a thick branch so hard that it split and fell from the tree with an almighty crunch that shot through the forest like a gun. Dropping to all fours and barreling through the forest at breakneck speed (for a bear), feeling brambles and thorns tear at her coat and do absolutely no damage through the thickness of it.

Demorphing when she reaches the lake, wading in, morphing again. And joy of wondrous joys, the dolphin. Her body, seven feet long and sleek shiny gray, rubbery and thick. But the joy, unadulterated in childlike innocence. Diving and leaping, clicking her song to everyone, play with me, come play! Chasing fish she has no intention of catching, diving deep to let the plants tickle her belly, shooting up out into the air, feeling it warm her wet skin, then burying herself deep into the water and clicking off more squealing sounds of utter happiness.

Demorphing. Back to eagle. Pumping her wings hard to get up off the ground and riding thermals for what must have been close to two hours before she finally forced herself to return home. Demorphing on the rooftop, climbing down the ladder, around the corner, up the street, through the door, and without word or explanation, collapsing on her mattress and sleeping for ten hours. Dreamless, sweet sleep of the utterly exhausted.

It's one of the best days she's had since arriving in this world.

ihavettk.livejournal.com

"Agh, what the sprock?" Flash bang. One minute, he and Superman were getting ready to head back from the 30th century so that Kon could finally rejoin his friends and family after being dead of all things, and now he's... somewhere? He flies up to get a better view. Hawaii, apparently. Though it doesn't look like it did last time he was here. And Kal's nowhere in sight.

"How long was I dead?" he wonders aloud, looking around. "Uh, Superman?" He isn't quite shouting. But even a quick look around with a combination of x-ray and telescopic vision shows no bright red cape. "Kal? HELLO? ANYBODY?"

This is definitely Earth. Definitely Hawaii.

He isn't quite sure what to do now. So he starts flying towards Metropolis. Maybe Kal's there. Or someone at least.

slayer_fray

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.

lastblackhawk.livejournal.com

The Aerie One left the farm to drop a passenger somewhere in Greenland, just a few weeks ago.

A couple of hours later, off the coast of Labrador, there was a flashBANG and a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias, falling at a high speed, appeared in mid-air.

Do you know what happens when you hit a state-of-the-art flying fortress in mid-air with a sperm whale?

Zinda and Steph Brown do, now.

By some miracle, they crashed just a little off the coast, and the wind was blowing inland; it was a very pissed-off Steph and a shell-shocked, bruised Zinda whose parachutes dropped them just a few hundred yards out to sea.

"All our stuff!"

"My plane!"

"How are we supposed to get home now?"

"My plane!"

"I think I hate this world."

"MY PLANE!"

It has been a grim few weeks, although not hopeless. Both of them tend to be quite good at surviving, after all. They do not have any equipment, any necessities or any food, and both of them were somewhat thinner when they found, by dint of sticking to the coast and trying very hard not to freeze, a community that might once have been called Cartwright.

Of course nobody had a working telephone. But there are a few people around with food and shelter and warmth, and Zinda and Steph both are more than happy to work for them for a few days in exchange for warmer clothing.

And then ... they're kind of stuck.

"I can't believe nobody in this town has a working comm."

"I can't believe I lost the Aerie."

"They'll be looking for us."

"Damn right they'll be looking for us. But how the hell are they gonna find us? We disappeared off'a sat, radio, everything when the whale hit us. Like lookin' for two needles in a whole world o'haystacks."

"Two cute needles," Steph reminds her, grinning. They're training - Dinah's lessons stuck and it's a good way to stay warm outside - which at the moment is just stretches, warmups. "You know they'll find us."

"Yeah," Zinda agrees, and sighs. "I just don't know when."

alwaysroomforhope

Steph is sitting on the roof of the farmhouse, fingering the grooves worn in the ridge of the roof by dragon-landings and robots and griffins, and Thinking About Stuff.

alwaysroomforhope

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.

mark-of-samael.livejournal.com

It's evening when the girl appears (literally) in the fields next to the Cooper farm. She walks toward the buildings, with the hesitant stride of someone afraid they'll be caught doing something wrong.

Half of Alessa wants to just run away now, but the other half is stubbornly sticking to the idea that she's been given a name and a location, so she may as well check them out. Even if it involves the terrifying prospect of talking to more people.

alwaysroomforhope

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.)

alwaysroomforhope

( Dear Diary... )

xxhottgirl4uxx.livejournal.com

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.

alwaysroomforhope

[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.]

alwaysroomforhope

Steph and Sokka left the farm early today, missing the dramas that are unfolding there tonight.

Currently, they're in Metropolis. Sokka is asleep in their "borrowed" apartment - or was, when Steph left, at approximately 2am. Now she is, of course, standing on top of a building, cape billowing, and frowning through her mask at the skyline.

(She totally left Sokka a note, though. It said: I couldn't sleep, so I went out for a walk and to grab some air. Love you. Back soon! Because that won't make him suspicious at all.)

There's someone she wants to see. She's just not sure if it's a good idea.

alwaysroomforhope

Steph is Hatching Plans. They're very hatchy.

She's also hatching them over the washing machine, because she's doing laundry. Mmm, the clean delicious chemicalgasm smell of laundry powder particles.

... ew.

slayer_fray

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.

serinusniger

Anyone looking for a blonde martial artist would do well to look out in the training field, as there is one there busy knocking the stuffing out of a dummy, just because she can.

It would help if that person had been told to also look for fishnets, but Dinah still fulfills the 'blonde' criterion just fine.

Well, except for about half an inch. Her roots are showing.

highrisktrader.livejournal.com

They actually arrived back at the farm a while ago, in the middle of the night, with no fanfare. Since then, Katara has been soaking in the winter sunshine, running around blissfully, practicing her bending and hugging her friends and brother, and basically just having a wonderful time. Today she's sitting at the edge of the pond, feeding Spots and grinning enormously at everyone who comes near. Life is great! Especially when you haven't had it for ages!

Steph is still working in Smallville at the bar, and has been catching up on missed shifts for the past couple of days; this is the first afternoon she's had off since they got back, and she's down at the training area making good use of her workout time. At the moment, just bending and stretching and general maintaining-of-absurd-Battish-flexibility. Any suggestions that she is avoiding Babs, using physical activity to avoid thinking, will be ... avoided via physical activity.

highrisktrader.livejournal.com

The trip back from Chicago to the farm is just as slow, and even more low on fuel - but the moods in the cars are very different from the trip there.

In Katara's case, it's a good change - she can't stop beaming at everyone, hugging and kissing and more hugging, eating real food and breathing real air and feeling the snow on her face for the first time in so long. Her bending is back, although it's not quite all it should be - not yet.

But it will. Everything is going to be wonderful. Katara is sure of that.

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Page generated Jun. 28th, 2025 06:27 pm

Shatterverse Panfandom RP

Entries tagged with stephanie brown (au)

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