#tbd|Location

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ifyoucatchacriminal {{xx}}

"Already sittin' in a van, drinking coffee an' waitin' for proof of life, I'm afraid," she says, voice steady and face smoothed into a mask of nonchalance. All of it was true, and when it didn't seem that Eliot was coming out any time soon and it looked like the man had gotten trapped between a rock and a hard place ~how Parker had stated it to Jayden was less polite than that, but Beth isn't about to repeat those words~ the cavalry mobilised. The Leverage group is a blessing in disguise. Their typical marks are people like the Admiral, who deserve everything that comes to them. Modern day Robin Hoods, she'd call them, and in some small way, Jay with her law degree and good standing with the Bar and Beth with her medical skill? They're glad to be unnamed merry men as it were. "F'ya t'ink you can walk out of here wi' me, can sneak ya out da back an' get on wi' da task of actually warmin' you up proper. Or you could, ya know, stay here an' become a Spence-i-cle. Your choice."

[tarnishedhalo]

@griim​   {{xx}}

“You fuckin’ preach, sis.” Three double Macallans deep, and he doesn’t realise he mutters that aloud. Without that vibranium shield, he’d like the so-called Captain to do even an eight of the things he had. He’d earned his rank with sweat, blood, and expended ammo. He’s rescued countless lives, given up a leg and some spine for God and Country, and the bitterest thing for him can be pinned between his former best friend now playing wing-man to someone else, or having to admit it was Stark tech that has him back on his feet again. “Worse, now every two-bit bleedin’ heart thinks they can put on pyjamas or some underoos and go out on Patrol. Which makes my job even fuckin’ harder, and yet we aren’t allowed to even really arrest them.” He catches himself mid-rant, and glances over the woman. Normally Riley isn’t fazed by a pretty face, but something about her is really striking. “Sorry, I’m being an asshole. What say as an apology I buy you another round?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

The way she says his name under her breath sounds a lot like 'eaten' before she says it a little louder, though nothing about her voice could be considered loud. "Ethan. Suits you. Now...as a Texan ~which is all kinds of exotic t' me~ we should get you inside before ya half freeze to dead. If you like, you can tell me more about yourself while I grab ya cup of coffee. I brought dis bag all da way from a single Kona farm estate on da big island. Best coffee you'll evah drink." It never occurs to Beth that Ethan isn't a new tenant. That a small woman shouldn't invite a stranger into her apartment especially when she lives alone. Of course, most women in her position are not witches quite capable of taking a person apart piece by anatomical piece, either. "I'm a nurse-practitioner, so I promise you're safe."

"Hawaii? I... I ain't never been there." He had to admit that when he'd been growing up, his parents had taken him and his younger brother, Jacob, to all sorts of places on holidays, though mainly to Europe. He'd been lucky in that regard, but ever since he'd been bitten, spent his time alone, the furthest he ever travelled was another state.

Usually, because he'd either had to move or because he woke up there after his wolf had got out on a full moon.

"Oh, th... thank you. Yeah, I... I'm not local. I'm from Texas." The timid creature admitted, shrugging his shoulders a little as he seemed to half hide in his jacket. "It's... it's real nice to meet you, Beth. I'm Ethan."

[wetcatspellcaster]

.

[aryomengrande]

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth would never use that particular word outside of her own head, it just wasn't done, but the rescuing stranger isn't wrong. More to the point, the men who eye him before running off as if terrified by the well over six foot and broad frame, should have offered the stranger a debt of gratitude that starts with an apology. Backed into a corner and fending off a human wolf-pack, Beth might have had to resort defending herself. Instead, it's left to her to both thank him and apologise in turn, which she plans to do until he turns around, very self-possessed and maybe there's a touch of smugness to his smile and Beth finds herself blushing. It isn't because she has designs on the handsome stranger, but mostly it's in the fact that she realises his accent isn't that much different than her own and that immediately puts her at ease. "Mais oui," she murmurs, French for yes, very. Then she can't help but giggle. She isn't teasing him but she is so very relieved to not be treated like so much meat. "I'm sorry, wha' I should be sayin' is mahalo, mistah. Some people nevah know how to take disappointment an' really I would have hate t' see wha' happen if you hadn't come along. Is dere any way you'd accept a token of my gratitude? Funnel cake? Ride on da carousel? Walk t'rough da hay-bale maze? Drink a' da beer garden? Jus' name it."

@brooklynislandgirl liked for a fall starter

Fairs were not really his thing but since he was already making a pit stop in the town, Remy figured why not. At least, he could go while it was still daylight out and he wouldn’t stand out wearing his sunglasses, needing to hide his black and red eyes. A lap or two around the fair grounds and then he would head back to his motel for the evening, review the details of his next job. He wasn't there long before he saw what looked to be a few men harassing a woman who clearly wasn't enjoying the attention. There was only one thing a halfway decent man, and x-men, could do.

Remy stepped in between the woman and the men with no less swagger in his step. "You know, most men would take da hint and leave da pretty lady alone da first time she tell ya to fuck off. I suggest ya'll take dat advice and leave. Now." With that, his chin dipped in the slightest so his sunglasses would slide down the brim of his nose just enough to give them a glimpse of his black eyes and send them hurrying off.

"Dare, solved dat problem." A pleased smirk as he turned around to check on her. "You all right, mon ami?"

[faztastiic]

alright carrd updated ahhh

[devilagent]

i LOVE blair house so bad. its so tragic that the house was likely never real to begin with, it is so uniquely designed and just so beautiful to me ;u; i have a connection to it kmfdmwkdwmk Alas i could never visit it unless i had 1930102 dollars to build a real one

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth knew her charming neighbour was about to darken her doorstep long before the snowmobile's engine announced the presence of a visitor. While the woods-nestled cottage was almost a thing out of story ~thatched roof, overgrown gardens, the far off buzz of bees and the soft laughter of the nearby brook~ it was also her sanctuary, her home, and her work space. There were wards cast that she renewed each season. There were little spirits she nurtured, and in return they offered her a myriad of services to the best of their ability; little breezes to sweeten and cool hotter days, a perfect cobble and earthen path to walk along and so on. Yes, it is a sort of sanctuary. So much of Lou in the last year has reminded her of all that she'd lost, the reason why she'd decided to leave the hustle and bustle of New York, and lick her wounds in the privacy of isolation. She greets him with a welcoming smile and a wave in return. Wipes her hands on a towel to dry them and finishes pouring two cups of coffee. The cinnamon bread he'd brought her last week sits on her table, steaming warmth and filling the air with a lush temptation. A moment later, she has the door open. She's always liked that she doesn't need to remind him of about taking off his boots, or shoes. The fire in her hearth keeps the wooden floor toasty enough that even bare feet can find comfort in them. "Please tell Gretchen she's a life saver and I owe her one." She doesn't bother to explain the herbs and flowers that she hadn't grown before the cold settled in, but that they will be useful in the medicine that she will make for those who will coming seeking aid. Lou's question catches her off-guard and freezes the smile on her face. Thankfully the box is an excuse to look away from his face. "Ah, not really? But you know me. I always leave a little somet'ing out for local wildlife. Come in, come in, warm up. Do you t'ink I should be concerned?"

@brooklynislandgirl starter based on this wishlist prompt:

The wind whipped around Lou as he soared down the familiar pass between the small cottage and his own cabin on the outskirts of the woods. Tracks from his previous visits were already carved out in frozen snow making things only slightly smoother. Undoubtedly, the sound of the snowmobile would announce his arrival in the normally tranquil woods.

Usually, he'd like to make the trek on foot, but today he carried some dried herbs and a package the mail carrier had left with him per instructions. It didn't happen too often, but honestly, he liked having the excuse to see Beth.

Parking a short distance away Lou unpacked the goods and walked the rest of the way. Admiring how the snow still clung to the pine before his eyes caught a set of tracks: werewolf and not his. Shaking his head he continued to the front of door and set the box he carried down. Going back he followed the pawprints around the structure and swallowed the anger that rose into his throat. Directly in front of the window, he found the padded-down spot of snow where a wolf clearly rested undoubtedly watching Beth.

Fuck.

Suddenly, he catches her in the window smooths his pinched brow into a friendly smile, and offers a wave before he makes his way back to the front of the cottage. By the time he grabbed the box the door was opening and he stopped momentarily smiling at his friend, "Hey, you got a package and some dried..." He paused briefly, not knowing exactly what Gretchen had given him to bring before he just added, "Stuff."

Leaning in he placed it in front of the door on the rug while he took off his snowy boots outside. Unlacing he looked over at his friend before his eyes shot around the cabin suspiciously before he asked, "I noticed some wolf tracks around the cottage. Have you seen anything?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

@turkicgods {{starter for Koyash?}}

Even the shadow that falls on her carries a touch of the warm day. Spring carries the scent of the botanical gardens on its breath and a mellow golden afternoon makes her wish she'd brought her easel and paints. Kneeling at the bed of beautiful and carefully cultivated flowers, she tilts her head and offers a small, shy smile and squints up at the ridiculously tall gentleman. "I promise I'm not tryin' to steal blooms. But if I don't rescue dis little guy? Dey'll pull him up an' t'row him in da trash. So...maybe you don't tell on me?" She is, in fact, trying to take a bright little dandelion from the soil, root system intact, and the evidence of her premeditation shows in the face that she has a disposable cup to put it in.

[celayawitcher]

starter for @witchertorsten.

where: why the kossith ship of course

when: current timeline

note: long overdue uwu, lmk if you need any changes

There was relief mixed with the acrid taste of dread to know there were others like her within the mix - other witchers, those specifically who'd taken the very oath within the temple Torsten had led them to. She felt the ring of the damned, embedded deep within her flesh, seemingly apart of her bones, her marrow, but the dark thoughts seemed to have ceased, blocked off by the command of the a'dam and all its suppression. Resilience, the construct of their very identity stripped to being a mere rahaat.

Celaya tried to remind herself that she had had her identity stripped before and she'd built herself again, piece by dreaded piece. She'd not let the Kossith strip away at her very self again, she would hold strong, and she would hold true, no matter the invasive nature of the a'dam which tried to sway her towards obedience.

She'd barely spoken to Torsten since their capture, it was wise to have allies, but it felt even wiser not to reveal them all at once. At the end of each wretched day, they were all allies, each sharing the very damned fate of being on this abhorrent ship, chained to compliance by the a'dam slung around their necks. Still, Torsten was one she felt she could trust when it came to tactical guidance, when it came to freeing them from what had been and what was to come.

She had sidled up to the other witcher the moment darkness swept over them. It would be ignorant to presume they were not always being watched, listened in on; but she was equally as certain that even the Kossith could be overly confident in the forced obedience their a'dam created. Even the strongest of bonds could be broken and Celaya would hold strong to that.

"It seems we have found the chains of darkness to break." Literal, figurative, what the Kossith planned, it would bring nothing good to Lysara, it would only bring bleak, unfettered darkness upon them all. Their oath rang true now more than ever, but it seemed impossible to face it, to rise, to overcome, but Celaya held onto every shredded ounce of hope she had left in the dank shadows of the ship they were crowded within.

[little-earthquakes-rp]

@mythosisms : for Elysia & Skye

The moment Skye felt the cosmic pull he settled the bill and went through the round of goodbyes to his friends at the pub. They chided him about the earliness of his departure on a Friday night as he all but booked out the door. Driving a little faster than normal, he sped home knowing what was happening on the other end. There was a biting desperate need to get Ely as soon as possible.

It had only been a couple weeks since the witch unceremoniously entered into a young woman's nightmares. It had been a holiday weekend, and Skye thought to do a little traveling without leaving home aided by some edibles. About an hour into his trip, the compulsion to lay down became so strong he didn't resist. Outside on his hammock, he fell asleep almost underneath the starlit sky. The next thing he knew he found himself being pulled through the in-between by an instinct which eventually led him to Ely.

Rushing inside his home, he undressed as he made his way to the bedroom. Grabbing his cell out before he tossed his pants and crashed into bed. Quickly, he began searching for his favorite hypnosis track in case. Not that he needed it. Eyes closed he willed himself to sleep within the first few seconds. Skye's ability to control his sleep state had increased recently, and he wasn't sure why.

The pull into the astral was almost instant. His body was paralyzed in a sleep state, but his soul awoke. He felt the vibrational pull accompanied by the familiar swoosh as his consciousness lifted up and out from his body. Pausing he looked down and saw himself comfortably sleeping before he moved towards the bedroom door.

The moment he opened he was no longer in his home. Instead, in a vast hallway with several doors and multiple staircases taking him anywhere and sometimes nowhere. The liminal space felt infinite and was how he moved through the astral. It was always the same, the halls were painted a creamy beige with white tiles on the floor. The entire space is illuminated by buzzing fluorescent lights overhead and has all the appeal and comfort of industrial Cold War-era decor. Skye didn't even have to think. He let his feet guide him through a door trusting he was being drawn towards the tenacious woman.

Countless screams and pleas echoed throughout but he was only concerned about one. Skye went to work immediately changing the scene. He colored over the smoky dark air with a blue sky and fluffy clouds. The torture soundtrack had to go. Instead, he filled the atmosphere with a backdrop of his favorite Bob Marley album as he continued on toward Ely pitched up on a throne made of bones.

It was a scene reminiscent of an 80's heavy metal album, and frankly, it disturbed him to the point he had to close his eyes for a moment as searing anger reared up. The best thing he could do was manipulate the state and rage would only get in the way. The torturous god, Hades stood with a flamed chained whip ready to strike her again, and with only a mental push he flipped the scene. The god disappeared instantaneously and the whip he wielded shattered as if made of ice as it hit the ground.

Skye comes upon Ely in her beaten state, and he shifts the bone throne into a plush purple couch. He only had to lift his hand for a wet cloth to appear before gently wiping it across her forehead. Shame ate away at him given the abuse she endured waiting for him, "I'm sorry it took me so long. I wasn't home when I got the call."

Skye took a knee and extended a hand resting it on her shoulder as guilt reflected in his eyes. Letting out a deep breath before he reassured her, "Everything is going to be alright now." As long as he remained here he'd have complete control.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Some women, after a certain age, find the word 'ma'am' offensive. Growing up around sailors and marines all her life, she was used to it by now and only felt a modicum of relief that the man in front of her didn't seem to recognise her from the many and varied news broadcasts or paparazzi photos, or the other half a dozen outlets where she wore a frozen smile and thought of a hundred other places she'd rather be. She also instantly warmed to him when dealing with Halo, as the staff calls her. A beautiful brindle mastiff, Halo weighed in at seventy-five pounds, only twenty less than Beth herself. At nine years old, she is considered a senior, and while Beth payed an exorbitant amount of money to ensure that the grand dame lived without fear of having her life cut short, there were few people interested in adopting a dog that old. It didn't matter that Halo was vaccinated, spayed, and extremely friendly with every one. It didn't matter that she enjoyed treats and was known to sit patiently and give her paw when asked to, and that she would follow any one around who would pet her or rub her belly. Beth often thought about adopting her. Only with the kind of work schedule she had and the sometimes gruelling demands from the Admiral, it didn't seem fair to keep the old girl at home and alone for days on end. But she was one of Beth's favourites. She looked up, then up a little more until she met the man's eyes and offered him a hazy sort of smile. "Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine, mahalo. I t'ink it was my fault f' followin' so close. Uhm. Ya interested in takin' Halo home wi' ya…or are you volunteer? Don' remembah see you around here."

@brooklynislandgirl ∣ 🐺

It probably seemed rather ironic given what Ethan was, but he couldn't help but drop into the local animal shelter, volunteering to take dogs on walks whenever they needed someone. He wasn't one for talking much, keeping his head down whenever people were near, but once a kennel was opened and a dog rushed out to sniff him, there was something about the smile that radiated across his face when he leaned down to gently pet them. So much so, that the Texan managed to bump into someone as he stood back up, not being the most graceful in his movements, at times. "Oh... sorry, ma'am, you alright?"

[awkwardcourage]

" stop apologizing—you didn’t do anything wrong. '' (from castiel -i hope it is ok i send this in :O) | @aerospectrum

Hughie's leg bounced anxiously, hands clenched tight into fists in his lap. He tried to make eye contact, but his gaze roved, anxiously bouncing from any point of interest in the room, anywhere but the person actually addressing him. "Okay, so why does it feel like it is?" He asked in a nervous rush. "I... Shouldn't have I done something? Shouldn't I have tried to stop it?"

[lotharx]

starter for @alrikhart.

where: can be otw returning from the cove or make it current

when: after our red hand quest / current

note: that's my adopted son

Once he'd known the Hart siblings were staying behind within the Cove to ensure it was somewhat stabilized after the destruction, Lothar obviously had taken it upon himself to stick around too. Clearly Prospero was rubbing off on the barbarian and not in a way Lothar appreciated, damn kids. Lothar was never one to genuinely question a course of combat, but he'd delivered the killing blow and had been made to rise under their command in tandem to that; a fucked up party trick when the barbarian thought about it. Though he'd kept quiet in his rumination on the very subject, Lothar had also not been so able minded at speaking positively whatsoever, especially when it came to others he'd come to care for, much like Alrik. "Glad to have fought alongside you again," Aventia, now Hestia's Cove, the Red Hand seemed to have bound their course of Fates to always meet upon a battlefield and defeat evil, again and again until the Weave decided they were to rest. It seemed there was a grimace on his face, mentally recounting the course of events, but it was the closest thing to a smile that they'd been... mostly... victorious.

[agnesisolda]

starter for @xnikandrosx.

where: some vanguard church

when: maybe a little behind in the current timeline

note: via standing stones

Agnes had wondered little of her parents since she'd left Astoria for the Arches; devoted wholly to the One God, they led a miserable life of faith, something she often sneered at. She hadn't stepped foot within a Church of the Vanguard for quite some time and she hadn't known what had compelled her in this very moment to thus step inside. There was a frigid dampness inside the repurposed church, though the regalia of the Vanguard now littered the walls, she could see the once dilapidated and neglected interior for what it was. Parasites these devout were and she was of their brood once simply for being born into it; relief had flooded the then druid the moment she walked away. If dúnedain were always where they were supposed to be within the dreaded Weave, then this was a vicious mockery for her to have once faced.

Still, Agnes stood, shoulders high, hands clasped in front of her as though she could still retain some modicum of respect for what she once came from despite knowing they'd have cleaved her magic from her the moment it was discovered. A door nearest the podium creaked and Agnes turned to the source, face shifting from something stern and unreadable to true surprise at the other.

"Maybe I had hoped you pilfered that Inquisitor's regalia from a true member," uttered once she realized they were alone within the church, smiling ruefully, "This is a rather funny situation you've painted for yourself." Demon, Inquisitor to the One God, if she thought her plight as a genasi born from Vanguard parents was baffling, this surely surmounted that. "Nikandros, yes?" There was no hostility in her tone, rather it was laced with humor and curiosity. It had been rather clear why he and his dragon friend had aided in the Standing Stones when everything came to a head, but Agnes now had the opportunity to dig a little more.