flamesburned | Reading

It was a concern when Jaina didn't find Jag in the house when she got up. If not for the circumstances at home, she wouldn't have thought much of it, but the boys were fine and nothing felt wrong so she tamped down the paranoia and got ready for the day.

And on the way out with the kids, she spotted the car. It was impossible not to. The streets here were not built for cars, and it almost blocked the door. Which was a concern until she came around to the side of the car and saw that it was a Jaguar.

She sighed so, so hard. "This is the saddest way to get me to handle all your calls."

[Yep. Open if you're in the area!]

deathsmajesty

Liliana and Ignis had returned home very late Friday night, late enough that it was past his usual bedtime and verging on hers, so all they did was head up to their room and go to sleep, content to catch up on a week's worth of island news - and possibly sharing news of their own - the following morning.

The island, of course, was amused that they'd made plans, and the next morning it was not Liliana Vess, Planeswalker and the Multiverse's preeminent necromancer who woke up, nor did she wake up next to her newly affianced, Ignis Scientia. Instead, Princess Lili awoke with plans to run off into the woods to find her beloved, Jack O'The Green, and ended up next to--

"Who are you?!"

[For that sassy chap next to her, please!]

grenadesandohana

Steve and Danny had arrived back from Hawai'i late last night after being released from the hospital earlier in the week. (Well, they thought it had been earlier in the week. Time had gotten weird traveling back from 2010.) They'd taken their bruised selves to separate bedrooms (it had taken only one night to realize that two people with still-healing liver transplant scars and restless sleep habits did not mix) and had gone to sleep.

And now Steve was waking up feeling amazing. Dare he say that he even felt swell?

Because he felt a lot like a super-soldier in the 1940s. He leaped athletically from bed and headed out into the kitchen, preparing to eat all the food he found there while trying to figure out why he wasn't still in London in 1945.

[OOC: Yes, I've swapped to a different Steve again.]

heroic_jawline

Jake Jensen was not, let's say, naturally a morning person. Yes, when he was being all he could be he was up with the rest of the Army, jogging and sweating like an idiot, but that wasn't his first inclination. Or second. His inclination was to be up until all hours absolutely destroying some kids in a first-person shooter game and then really rubbing it in that he was old enough to both buy beer and grow a sweet goatee. Sometimes he would take both of those abilities to a bar in search of companionship, which, though he didn't remember doing so last night, appeared to be the case this morning.

This bed was sweet. And enormous. He stretched out his arms and legs, reveling in the feel of sheets that had definitely been washed more recently than his had, and rubbed up against a hairy leg that definitely wasn't his.

Okay. Okay. This was fine. He was an open-minded guy! He--very smoothly, okay--slid his foot up that leg again trying to decide if the leg hair was free-spirited-lady-with-no-time-for-societal-expectations hair or, you know, dude hair.

Both of which would be fine! A-Okay! Nothing to freak out about! He was definitely not freaking out and he'd shoot anyone who said he was.

[OOC: Steve is Jake Jensen from The Losers for the weekend! Open for that dude he's definitely not married to.]

needsacatchphrase

Well, Jane had for sure gone to bed as Jane Foster. Which was perfectly normal and fine for this island. But she then went and woke up as a galactic senator who for sure was confused by the non-secret husband in her bed.

And yes, her hair and makeup was somehow perfect upon waking up. And the pajamas were just unnecessarily elaborate.

Because reasons. George Lucas reasons.

"Hello?"

[for sp and the poor, poor boyfriend]

thatwaslucky

It had been a while since they'd had a sangria night, and they were pretty much due. This time it was at Rey's apartment, which had her trying to clean up some since she didn't have people over much, and she was doing that despite the fact that she didn't have much of anything. Several years in and the place was still pretty bare bones aside from the mermaid sofa and assorted mismatched furniture.

She'd ordered pizza, and it had occurred to her that she hadn't asked if Summer was bringing the sangria or not, so she'd gotten a couple bottles of something and hoped it was okay, just in case. And if not, someone was going to have to have a party she could donate it to.

[For girls night!]

grenadesandohana

The team had come by today to check on them today now that Steve was awake for more than five minutes at time.

He was awake. Awake and bored. Booooooooooooooored. Tired of staring at the ceiling, tired of staring at the wall, tired of eating applesauce and chicken broth, tired of feeling like his head was a balloon trying to drift away thanks to the cocktail of drugs he was on. Tired of the actual balloons, flowers, and cards (even from convicted felons, what the hell, Sang Min, Steve wouldn't send you a card if you'd been in a plane crash).

Steve was taking it out on Danny, who didn't deserve it and had justifiably shut the curtain between them. So now Steve was stuck watching this stupid soap opera he'd insisted he wanted to watch, definitely not falling asleep.

Everything about this situation was stupid and annoying.

[OOC: for the poor roommate.]

chef_chocobro

After a weekend like the last, Ignis and Liliana had whisked themselves south, shirking their oh-so-pressing duties on the island to cloister for a few days in the sunny countryside villa that had entered their ever-growing roster of hideaways, habitations, and households, and weren't they both better off because of it. Of course, for Ignis, it wasn't just about some well-earned relaxation to ease the physical and mental strain and drain that went with several days hunched over in a workroom or traipsing around Innistrad.

For Ignis, things were rarely so singularly intentioned as that, although yesterday....that had been intentionally simple, a day of basking in each other's company, feasting on local foods, making idle plans that may or may not be followed through on, distractions pending, and just reveling in the intricate steps of their surprisingly easy and endless waltz. And today had been much of the same, with just a bit more laziness involved. Lounging in bed a little later, less complicated recipehs that lent themselves well to distracted cooking, skipping his training forms out on the deck in favor of appreciating the fine work of Liliana's fingers as they plucked at her lyre or brushed through his hair and behind his ears, his head in her laps, as they discussed the artistic merits of more of that Kamigawan poetry she'd recently unearthed.

And now, as evening fell, the next second. The underlying purpose. And also the edge of a potential point of no return. And one might argue that he could still step back from that precipice, but he would find that arguement faulty and flawed. The last few days had only bolstered his convictions.

He might not be able to see the slowly emerging stars in the stretch of sky darkening above them, but he could feel the coolness creeping into the air, he could hear the sounds of the day shifting into the music of the evening, and feel the oh-so-subtle weight of the shadows shifting and lengthening to let him know that the twilight hour was upon them.

"Darling?" He found Liliana, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of one of the wines they had cultivated together on one of their first ventures out here in the other. "I think tonight is an excellent one to enjoy the fruits of our labors. Don't you agree?"

[[ for the paramour, por favor, and NFB for distance~ ]]

betterthanaplan

It was Duke's birthday.

It wasn't something he'd ever made a real big deal about. Most years he wouldn't even notice it happened until well after the day had already passed. But this year? This year, when he looked at the actual date, was one that couldn't be ignored.

According to math, today was the day that Duke turned fifty.

Of course, he'd traveled back and forth through time enough times -- and spent enough chunks of time in places where it just worked different -- that he had absolutely no idea what his "biological" age would be. For all he knew, his body had reset when Lucifer resurrected him and he was actually less than a year old. But his birth date had always been June 2, 1975. And the current date, Fandom-wise (and . . . maybe in this LA? His phone still kept Fandom time, as far as he could tell) was June 2, 2025.

Fifty years. Did he feel fifty? What did fifty even feel like? He knew what "old enough to just fuck off and die" felt like. He didn't feel like that. But hopefully he wouldn't have until he was in his 80s, anyway.

He sat sprawled on Lucifer's couch, a drink on the side table, and tilted his phone this way and that as he used the selfie mode to take in his "reflection". The silver at his temples didn't seem to have grown much over the last couple years, which he supposed was good. There were a few gray hairs in his beard these days, too. Where else was he supposed to see age? None of his parents or grandparents had stuck around long enough -- or lived long enough -- to even get old. He didn't have anything for perspective.

And again, time travel. So.

"Age ain't nothin' but a number," he muttered to himself. And tried to decide if the crows feet around his eyes were too prominent or not.

[for those in LA with him, for ALL the slow play, and look. Day-after is actually REALLY GOOD for me remembering this boy's birthday, okay??]

grenadesandohana

Danny had been in surgery for six hours on Saturday, Steve for nearly twice that, and then he'd been placed in a medically-induced coma to make sure he stayed out. (His reputation for being an absolutely terrible patient had been put into his file.)

So he was only just opening his eyes for the first time in days, blinking at the horrible, sterile brightness of the hospital lighting.

He wasn't dead. He had that going for him, at least. He opened his mouth to speak, coughed, tried again, failed again.

Steve glared and then moaned softly at the headache that sparked behind his eyes.

So this was bad bad. He settled back on his scratchy pillow and waited for someone to notice he was awake.

grenadesandohana

The call from their meth dealing mark came in on Saturday, so Steve and Danny didn't have to fly with all of their baggage crashing around them.

They'd taken a portal back to Honolulu and then the Cessna they'd commandeered over to Turtle Island to meet Dae Won, who'd then packed the cargo area full of meth.

Steve reminded himself not to kill this guy immediately because they needed his contact on O'ahu, too.

He'd slid into the pilot seat, put on his sunglasses, and taken himself, Danny, and Dae Won into the sky, heading back for O'ahu.

The small talk was excruciating for the first part of their hour-long flight, even with their covers as people who didn't care about drug shipments, and Steve was almost excited to see another aircraft coming up behind them. Maybe it'd be the Coast Guard. He didn't care who got the credit for the bust, as long as the drugs stopped coming in.

"You expecting company?" he asked Dae Won idly.

[OOC: Warning for incoming character injury. Taken from episode 6.25]

deathsmajesty

It had taken ~~her steward~~ a week to set up her office to her specifications, but now it was once more an ode to coziness and comfort once again. She currently had a kettle going for tea, while she curled up on her chaise to go over her notes for next week's class.

And maybe nap. The arrival of baggage had lasted well into the night. Rude. What Liliana lacked in different baggage, ~~her psyche~~ the island had decided to make up in amount of it.

gospel_of_oblivion

It was a nice enough night, and Illyana had Baggage, and, well, it was time for one of her favorite traditions from her high school days --

Yeeting baggage off a roof!

She already had her wireless speakers blasting some of her favorite tunes, an entire punch bowl of Moscow Mule that she had mixed-up, more vodka in a cooler, a lawn chair, and an truly impressive array of portals spaced apart off the roof.

Yana grabbed a backpack with the number '55' on it, and whooping at the top of her lungs, spun around to throw it as far as she could, before shifting a portal over slightly to catch it.

"Three points," she decided, leaning over to write her score in her therapy journal. "Nice. I'll take it."

...was this what Doc Sampson meant her to use the journal for? Unclear. But this was today's journal therapy anyway.

[OOC: OPEN! COME DITCH YOUR BAGGAGE!]

grenadesandohana

Steve had woken up this morning being squashed under a military-issue duffel bag with "NAVY OBLIGATIONS" stenciled neatly on the side, tripped over a matching one labeled "BULLFROG" and careened into "FREDDY," and fell onto "AFGHANISTAN."

"Fucking fuck," he muttered from the ground. "Danny?"

heroic_jawline

Steve was trying to get out the door for his classes today, truly he was. Every time he turned around, though, he was blocked by duffel bags labeled "HOWLING COMMANDOS" or neat, compact and heavy hatboxes with "PEGGY" and "SHARON" on them. The suitcases labeled "BUCKY", "BUCKY (OTHER)," and "BUCKY (OTHER OTHER)" had already been shoved against the wall with some super-strength and he honestly wasn't sure if the giant safe labeled "NEVER ENOUGH" that was blocking the elevator belonged to him or to Tony, but either way, it wasn't moving.

So he'd retreated to the kitchen and the comfort of reheated bagels from New York and ignoring the "FOOD INSECURITY" box blocking his way to the pantry.

It was gonna be a day. He could tell.

mustbeawitch

Lydia had to admit she had rather hoped the bags would not follow once they left the island, and thus had been rather excited to set out for this week's Supper Club destination. She might even have been *gasp* unfashionably early.

Unfortunately, here she was outside a ramen shop, surrounded by a pile of trunks and reticules and such with things like WICKED and VAIN and SILLY printed all over them. She didn't know why the bags were just declaring all her traits to the world, but it was rather awkward, practically speaking.

At least she was going to get to try some Japanese food that was cooked, this week. She still wasn't onboard with sushi, it seemed.

Welcome to Supper Club, everyone!

ifwebeworthy

Don woke up, rolled over to sit up on the edge of the bed, and reached for his walking stick. He raised it up, but before he could bring it back down to summon Thor, he noticed something. Several somethings, stacked against the wall: a rolling suitcase you could hide a body in with FAKE printed all over it in huge letters, a duffel bag labeled FORGOTTEN, bags with WEAK and BORING and MORTAL and even LAME.

"Okay," Don told the pile of bags. "That one's offensive." But he remembered Odin telling Thor that, that he had made Don lame to teach Thor humility, so really the offense was Odin's, which...typical. He hated how much it had stuck in his head.

They are wrong, as well, Thor said. You are not boring, or weak.

"I am fake, though. I mean, I'm real, but I'm also fake."

I say thee nay.

The corner of Don's mouth turned up. Thor had said it like that to amuse him. Then he raised the stick again. "I don't have to deal with it today anyway," he declared, and brought the stick down. Lightning struck, and washed him and his baggage out of reality just as he caught sight of one almost buried in the pile that said VOID-TOUCHED. Oof. Well...

Thor didn't even bother to look at the new pile of parcels that took its place. It would be another load of nonsense, he was sure.

(Don turning into Thor remains NFB, rest of the post is FB. Warning for mild ableism.)

heroic_jawline

Steve stared at his reflection in the mirror, running his hand over his now beardless jaw.

"Feels weird," he muttered, walking out of the bathroom and reaching for the jacket of his dress uniform. His eyes went across all of the ribbons, making certain none of them were out of place or crooked, then pulled it on and gave his reflection one final look.

"Tony?" he called out. "I'm heading to Arlington."

Now that he wasn't a wanted felon he was back on the speakers circuit for Memorial Day. He'd resent it, but he had too many friends to visit in that cemetery. Making nice with Ross for a half hour was nothing compared to their sacrifices.

grenadesandohana

Nahele's friend had overdosed on fentanyl-laced crystal meth, making him the 11th victim of the same drug cocktail in the last two weeks.

Steve had promised Nahele he'd never let anyone hurt him, and that had been a promise he'd also made to the entire state when he'd put on the badge. Five-O had chased down a few leads yesterday and O'ahu was small enough for him to realize pretty quickly that the drugs had to be being brought onto the island. (They knew most of the big players and none of them were making product like this.)

And so now Steve was working on the engine of a small airplane, the top part of the flight suit tied around his waist to expose his undershirt because it was hot as hell, waiting for the contact to...well, make contact.

[OOC: For the much aggrieved partner, and all the SP.]

Profile

Elizabeth 'Liz' Argentum

March 2025

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Page Summary

solo_sword - IX Serendipity Place- Saturday morning
deathsmajesty - The Creepy and Very Confused Mansion in the Woods, Saturday Morning
grenadesandohana - MCA #0, Saturday morning
heroic_jawline - Stark Tower but Small [Saturday morning]
needsacatchphrase - MHA #19, Saturday Morning
thatwaslucky - MCA #1- Friday evening
grenadesandohana - Tripler Army Medical Center, Honolulu, Hawaii [Wednesday a week later, dinner time]
chef_chocobro - A Villa in Argentina; Wednesday [06/04].
betterthanaplan - Lucier's condo above Lux, LA, Monday (shhhh, timey wimey)
grenadesandohana - Tripler Army Medical Center, Honolulu, Hawaii [Monday afternoon]
grenadesandohana - Green Island, Hawai'i, Saturday afternoon
deathsmajesty - Liliana's Office, Friday
gospel_of_oblivion - Midnight Manor's Rooftop, Thursday Evening [5/29]
grenadesandohana - MCA #0, Thursday morning
heroic_jawline - Steve & Tony's Apartment, Stark Tower But 50 Percent Scale, Thursday Morning
mustbeawitch - Ramen Utsuke, Baltimore, Maryland, Thursday Evening
ifwebeworthy - Don & Thor's Room, Stark Towerette, Thursday Morning
heroic_jawline - Stark Tower but Small, Monday morning
grenadesandohana - Sketchy Airstrip, Honolulu Outskirts, Sunday

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Page generated Jun. 7th, 2025 08:57 pm