tricktofalling: PB: Alba Flores (Default)
[personal profile] tricktofalling posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Fall kept coming in and out of Darrow. For days at a time, it would be hot, summer weather, blazing hot and humid. Then it would go away for rain and chilly mornings and evenings. It was doing hell on everyone, it seemed like, and certainly on the trees, which couldn't seem to make up their minds on if they were still in season, or if it was finally time to start in on that autumn foliage, all the yellows and oranges and reds that marked the third quarter of the year, the slow tumble toward the twilight of the year.

In any case, the Autumnal Equinox came and went, and the days grew shorter and the nights longer. Darrow's street lights began to turn on earlier in the evening, along the boardwalk and the streets and in the park, regardless of if it was a balmy, humid evening in the eighties still or a more brisk, seasonal sixties that meant people needed their coats and scarves.

To welcome in the season, whether or not the weather was going to do it, Darrow had put together something that seemed to bring together something like several of their other festivities. Here, there was a cookout. There, there was pumpkin carving. In the distance of the park, they'd even somehow managed to erect overnight a corn maze--with day time normalcy and night time spookiness. There seemed to be quite a lot, this year, centered around pumpkins, though, including a rather surreal effigy. But then, Darrow was known for its strange obsession with effigies, so nobody seemed particularly engaged with questioning that.

Overall, it was just a good way to spend a few days. The festivities, as they always seemed to, had cropped up quickly. The fliers that had gone up around town advertised that it would last for several days, covering the end of September and into the first week of October. Plenty of time for people to carve all the pumpkins, eat all the chili, and adventure the corn maze as much as they could possibly want. And, maybe, to figure out what exactly was supposed to happen with that pumpkin effigy by the end of the festivities.

[Happy (late) Autumn Equinox everyone! Enjoy this Fall Festival, which takes all our favorite festivals from the past couple seasons--chili cookout, barbecue, fall pumpkin carving and corn mazes, etc--and puts them all together to celebrate the season, but still allows plenty of time for all our favorite Halloween fun as well. While the festivities are centered around the park, feel free to have them happening wherever around Darrow, and to have your pup tagging in at any point between now and October 7, which will be the last day. Don't worry, there's nothing nefarious with the effigy. Just your standard pumpkin-headed fall tribute!]
incognoscibilis: (Forest)
[personal profile] incognoscibilis posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps

Raven doesn't know Adam well, but she's been working at West's for a year and a half now, and she knows better than the new guy apparently does. Throwing a timer belt at anyone is probably less than well advised, but he's picked his mark so far wrong that Raven groans and rolls her eyes before she goes to get ice.

A minor workplace incident gets Adam and Raven chatting.

[ HERE | ongoing | PG (discussion of disability, Adam Parrish's general self-loathing ]

(no subject)

Sep. 19th, 2017 09:38 pm
handfulofsapphires: (02)
[personal profile] handfulofsapphires posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Nicaise had first seen them through the large glass window of the dance studio. Lines of girls, poised and graceful, moving in synchronized turns and leaps, performing to music he couldn't hear in front of wooden bars. It was the first dancing he'd seen in Darrow that was close to the sort he knew from home.

It had taken him a week to bring it up with Laurent, a week to decide if it was what he wanted. He had a complicated relationship with his home, his therapist said. Nicaise tried not to think about it too much.

They were dance classes. Ballet. He joined a beginners coarse for teenagers, though he was warned that he would probably be unable to learn pointe, which involved dancing on the tips of your toes. Since he hadn't been practicing since he was very young there were development issues with soft tissue malleability and skeletal structure that couldn't be altered.

In other words, he was too old.

You have a complicated relationship with your age, his therapist would have said. Too young to be a real pet, the youngest looking in his class, too old for the Regent, too old for pointe. He would show them. If there was even the smallest chance of learning pointe, he would master it.

Nicaise knew dance, he'd been trained in it since he came to the palace at the age of ten. Though what he knew wasn't ballet, it was near enough, and he proved his skill in his first class, if not to his teacher and peers then to himself. It was something he could do and be good at, and though he was new to it he didn't feel as out of place as he did in school. The boys in ballet didn't tease him the way the ones in his high school did. They weren't loud and disgusting, either. They weren't gangly, they were graceful. They had class. Unlike Teddy Greenfeld and his stupid, ugly friends.

He looked out for them now as he left at the end of class, black sweatpants over his tights, a hoodie over his white tank top, sneakers instead of ballet shoes. They weren't the clothes he preferred, but he certainly couldn't be seen in public in tights. He slung his small duffle bag over his shoulder and headed for the bus stop to catch a ride back to High Gate. He was so distracted keeping an eye out for potential bullies that he nearly walked right into someone.

"Watch it," he blurted out, sorry not being a word that ever immediately came to mind.

(no subject)

Sep. 19th, 2017 09:37 pm
shok_ebasit_hissra: (Default)
[personal profile] shok_ebasit_hissra posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
July 6, 2017:

"You would find a house with a tower," Bull said as he looked up at the building, a smile tugging at his mouth. It almost reminded him of the main building of Skyhold in miniature, and somehow that seemed like it would suit them both of them.

In which Dorian Pavus and the Iron Bull find a house that fits them both.

[ HERE | on-going | so far pretty PG ]

August 13, 2017:

"Dorian?" he called as he nudged the door shut again, listening for movement in the house. Dorian's words had been shivering down his spine since their tussle: I have plans for you and that smart mouth of yours.

In which Dorian and Bull... let off some steam.

[ HERE | on-going | NSFW adult content ]

but in some ways they remain the same

Sep. 18th, 2017 04:56 pm
light_of_the_world: (e10)
[personal profile] light_of_the_world posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
September 7, 2017:

"You're such a violent person," Thomas said, sounding mock chastising. "First the tree, then the walnut, now the shoe. I'd hate to live with you, shank. Wake up in the morning to a broom handle in the back for some reason."

Hild and Thomas needle each other and chat.

[ HERE | complete | PG ]

Darrow Mini-Con 2017

Sep. 18th, 2017 02:19 pm
citycouncil: (looking up)
[personal profile] citycouncil posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
With fliers and posters and cheaply made local access advertisements on late night TV cropping up only in the weeks before the ONE DAY ONLY Pop Culture Extravaganza it was surprising just how many people lined up for tickets that Monday morning. Darrow's Convention Center had been rented out in its entirety, with the expansive main room serving as the convention floor, while other, smaller rooms were reserved for odd guest panels and signings.

Most of the guests would've been unrecognizable to anyone not from Darrow. There were the writers of Space Hospital, and a few of the lesser known guest stars. Also on the roster, were the artists and creators of an incomprehensible comic book series in its fifth reboot, about a vigilante ferret with dark pasts and daddy issues, teamed up with a mute, Icelandic princess from the future, fighting the demon hordes of some 5th dimension, galactic Hell. There was a panel on writing the Darrowian Experience, whatever the hell that meant, and a slightly offensive panel about the pros and cons of the Outsider Perspective on Media Today.

On the main floor, there were booths and tables set up, some with handmade wares and amateur artist prints, mostly of unusual and strange characters from equally strange comics and television shows. There were SQUID!! hats and posters, sets of The Graveyard Shift figurines (the variant set with a mint Vincent Blaylock going for $500). There was Space Hospital memorabilia, and Super Power Guy, and just a few recognizable characters scattered in with the knock-off superheroes that seemed just a little too close to their "outside world" counterparts. There were booths dedicated entirely to Tiffany Charlotte and Todd Chad, which all seemed to have the longest lines, selling t-shirts and pillows and posters and records, and even plushies from the short-lived Saturday morning cartoon, Tiffany!

And there were costumes. Professional cosplayers and kids trying out their Halloween costumes early, and people just trying something new. Some were familiar, others weren't, but all of them were at least fun to look at.

Darrow's Pop Culture Extravaganza! ran well into the evening, vendors putting out 50 cent comic boxes as they got ready to close down their booths for good. Tired kids carrying bundles of goodies in their arms, followed by harried parents, shuffled their way out the door. Hardcore comic fans met and exchanged numbers in the lobby, some of them planning to meet up at the local bars later that night.

For just a few more hours, wearing the faces and clothes of their favorite characters, they could all pretend that they wouldn't have to go back to their real lives in the morning.

[[Impromptu Pop Culture Convention at Darrow's Convention Center! Tag in, tag around, no limits!]]

(no subject)

Sep. 18th, 2017 08:07 am
notonemoment: (Default)
[personal profile] notonemoment posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Sept 2017:

Even though Gannicus said they were likely to have been fighting dogs, the red beast was a gentle thing, sweet, friendly. He gravitated against Agron's side, and Agron would not wish to be parted from him even if he thought he could be.

Agron is surprised by (and in turn surprises Steve with) a new doggo.

[ HERE | ongoing | surprise pups? ]
shok_ebasit_hissra: (Default)
[personal profile] shok_ebasit_hissra posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Bull stared at the pile of familiar gear. He'd been walking through the park and he'd almost missed it. He was taking the familiarity of his surroundings for granted, not paying attention to familiar sights and sounds the way he normally might. He could have walked right by it - or was there something about this place that would have made him notice it, no matter what?

He moved closer, looking around like he expected someone to appear and explain - a messenger, an assassin, a ghost. Something from his past that might come to bite him. But nothing came, and he was standing in front of things he hadn't seen in over a year.

A year, he realized. He had been in Darrow for over a year now, and somehow that time had passed with relative ease. He had been thinking a lot about Thedas recently, about everything life behind, about the decades of his life piling up. And here was a reminder of all of it: his gear, some of which he'd had since Seheron, since his first assignment in the Ben-Hassrath. He already knew what was in the trunk, knew his writing desk would be tucked away into it with unfinished letters, knew the small odds and ends he kept with him, but still. He had to see.

With a grunt he eased down on one knee so he could open the trunk, revealing armor and weapons he hadn't touched in too long. He stood up again and hefted up the maul that had been leaning against the side of the trunk - a weapon made to fit someone his size. His good eye gleamed dangerously, and it took everything in him not to give it a practice swing.

"I don't know if this is a great day or a bad omen," he said out loud.

[Find the Iron Bull in the park - he's just received his gear from home and he's probably having some flashbacks, so try not to surprise the giant Qunari holding a maul. Great time to meet him!]
worstsin: (Default)
[personal profile] worstsin posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps

It had been two hours. Geralt could have infinite patience if he wanted to, mostly because he'd been forced to learn infinite patience, under Vesemir's tutelage. But it had been two hours of making what seemed to be constant, nonsensical loops, since Geralt had run into the creature.

There was some kind of illusion going on, but the details of it, Geralt didn't know.

He'd caught it eating out of a dumpster, by complete chance. It hadn't been a contract he was hired for, and he hadn't been intent on hunting it down. He'd just smelled it -- by that complete chance -- and gone after it, mostly out of curiosity to learn more. There were a lot of things in Darrow that he wanted to, knew he had to, learn more about. For his own safety, more than anything else.

It wasn't a pleasant-looking or pleasant-smelling creature. It reminded him, almost, of a fiend or chort, but it wasn't either of those, and it was at once smaller, less threatening, and more uncomfortable to look at.

It was gangly, boney, unlike hefty fiends. The legs reminded Geralt of a deer, ending in cloven hooves, and unnaturally long, as were the arms. The torso was largely humanoid, but the head -- it was human, but only in a vague, stomach-turning way. It looked more like the face of a horse, long, with eyes far apart on the sides of the head. It had long, scraggly, thin hair growing like a mane, and at the end of the long snout, large, flat yellow teeth which were too big for the mouth, and hung out past the lips even when the mouth was closed.

An ugly son of a bitch.

When it noticed Geralt approaching in a sneak, close to the wall, it had let out an unpleasant, frightened howl, and taken off into the darkness. Geralt had set off in quick pursuit, but quickly found himself lost. The smell of the thing seemed to be coming from every direction at once, and no matter which direction Geralt turned or how many turns he took, he seemed to always end up back at the original dumpster.

"Hate illusions."

[ get stuck in the tikbalang's loop with geralt. in witcher fashion, the tikbalang is a lot like its folkloric counterpart, except with some differences. in this case, it'll only let you out of the loop if it feels you're vulnerable and no threat. which means geralt and your pup will have to get completely naked. yes. don't tag this is you're not prepared for your pup to get completely naked.]

it's got me reeling, i need a clue

Sep. 17th, 2017 09:26 pm
ahollowman: (for my mother)
[personal profile] ahollowman posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
God, it had been shit couple of weeks.

With back to class, all of his summer interns had gone. He might claim not to be a fan of the internship program Panoptes ran, but that would be untrue. Tony only pretended not to appreciate having all the kids around, the chance to mentor college engineering students. The truth was, very apparently, that they were filling in for something his life was sorely missing.

He tried not to put thought into that. He hated examining himself.

Henry Cheng had gone, too. Hopefully back to where he belonged, and his goons, and his Robo-Bee, and his mother. And that was fucking great for Henry Cheng, Tony was glad, woo-hoo, but also Henry had been providing Tony that something that was sorely missing as well.

And Tony felt even sorer for it.

The company needed restructured, and that was fine, the lawyers could handle that. They were professionals. But Tony's life had started to fall into disarray also. His office was an incomprehensible mess to anyone but himself, dishes had piled up in his sink at home. It was all unusual. There were ways in which Tony met the archetype of the rarefied genius, caught in his own head -- but he usually kept immaculate surroundings.

It was depression. It was obviously depression, even if his therapist hadn't straight-out told him so and started suggesting treatments.

But at least Hallowe'en was coming. That might be nice. He'd always loved it, exceedingly more than holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a holiday for drinking and partying and eating too many Tootsie Rolls and dressing up and pretending to be something you weren't which, Jesus, Tony was good at.

He stood outside the pop-up seasonal costume store, thinking about going in just to look around, because that was actually fun, when he spotted it.

The plastic mask, the familiar colors, grinning up at him.

He grimaced.

"Red And Gold Metal Armor Man?"

(no subject)

Sep. 17th, 2017 02:03 pm
ghostsarereal: (pic#11340804)
[personal profile] ghostsarereal posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated September 9, 2017:

Edith can't quite place what it is, but the way he stares, it isn't difficult to tell that something's wrong. She draws in a breath for it, quick and sharp, her mouth curving into a frown. It would be easy to keep walking, look elsewhere, write all of this off as some strange encounter and probably never think on it again. She can't quite bring herself to, though — manners, maybe, too deeply instilled in her from an upbringing in another time, or concern, or curiosity, or some combination of the three.

Edith meets Harley, to whose sister she bears an uncomfortable resemblance.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

Dated September 10, 2017:

She's distracted enough in her browsing that she almost doesn't notice someone else nearby, not until she hears his own name. She looks up, then, the glasses she seldom wears perched on the bridge of her nose, and smiles at the sight of a familiar face. Everything about that night — the party with the masks, the evening she and Merry first kissed — seems permanently etched in her memory now, and she can't say she minds.

Edith and Magnus talk about books and the past.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

Dated September 12, 2017:

Better than one of the two of them tackling it alone, still so hopelessly out of their own times. There's an easy kinship to be found in that, something that she's noticed has been a foundation of a good number of her friendships here.

Edith accompanies Serena (and George) on a trip to Törgt to look for furniture for Serena's house. It is, needless to say, a strange experience.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

Dated September 14, 2017:

This time, she's in the laundry room — alone, because of course she is — when she sees him, standing in a shadowy corner, watching her with dark, intent eyes. The sight of him out of the corner of her eye causes her to gasp, but Edith exhales, relieved, when she turns and sees a familiar if somewhat translucent face. "It's you," she says, and chances a step closer, her laundry forgotten. He doesn't quite nod, but his gaze, such as it is, stays fixed on her, as if attempting to communicate with his eyes what he can't with words. She nearly smiles, trying to seem reassuring. "I haven't forgotten you," she promises. "I want to help you, if you'll let me."

In the laundry room of the Bramford, Edith encounters a ghost she's seen before, and shares a little about it with both Lyall and Ed, respectively.

[ i, ii | ongoing | pg ]
literaryimmortality: (more covfefe)
[personal profile] literaryimmortality posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know what I'm doing in Darrow, of course, but more specifically I don't know what I'm doing in one of its cafés waiting for potential interviewees for a project I'm maybe stupidly determined to work on.

I'd decided a while ago that I wanted to write about Darrow's origins and mysteries but more than anything, I now want to write about its people. The ones that have come from elsewhere, the ones that have been forced from their homes and their families and their entire worlds with no choice but to embrace this one. I want to know about their befores, their nows and whether they have hope that they'll ever get out of here. If they want to.

I want to know everything about them because I don't want to think about me. Not right now.

After all that time on the Avalon with Hawkeye, I've been forced to confront my own reality in a new light. For some reason or another, I've been brought to Darrow twice. I don't know whether it means something or it's supposed to mean something, but I want it to. I have to have a purpose. I can't live without one. I don't think anyone can.

So I've put out ads online and a few flyers around the area with my contact information and a vague call for Darrow's non-locals. I know it's a controversial subject for the actual locals and the last thing I want to do is offend anyone, but that seems to be the nature of journalism – or at least it always has been for me. I still intend to be as soft as possible and not take advantage of the situation and the information that's offered to me, but this is a story I need to tell. The one of our journey – together.

After all, I'd been writing about a different journey not all that long ago. The one of Jim and mine. Maybe one day I'll write about us again, maybe that will be the final chapter if I ever manage to finish this project I've barely even started, but I'm not ready. I don't want to dwell on him. I'd realized that when I was back on the Avalon and when I was with Hawkeye. My life is not Jim. It never was, even when it felt like it. Even when he made me feel like it.

I'll think about him because God knows I can't help it, but I'm saving my words for whoever turns up today. If anyone turns up today.

And if they don't, well, I have coffee.

[Find Aurora at a café of your choice in Darrow. She's put out a call online and also a few flyers for anyone interested in a writing project about Darrow's arrivals from elsewhere. Your pup can have responded to one of those or just find her with her laptop and caffeine by chance. Closed unless we've spoken, thanks.]

(no subject)

Sep. 16th, 2017 11:13 pm
losttheright: (chasing visions of our futures)
[personal profile] losttheright posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated April 1, 2017:

With their hands entwined, Han leads her up the boarding ramp, gesturing grandly as they enter into the main corridor, and there's not much to see yet but he's still proud of his ship all the same. "Here we are," he says, jabbing a thumb to the right and nodding for her to follow, even as he's already gently tugging on her hand. "This way to the cockpit, that's going to be the first stop on our little tour. It's my favorite place on the ship."

After the Founder's Day party, Han takes Molly back to the Millennium Falcon.

[ HERE | ftb | pg-13 ]

Dated September 12, 2017:

She's turned it over and over in her head, and comes to the same conclusion every time: it's kind of perfect. Jessica will have a child here. She'll be able to see Abigail grow up and know that she'll be happy and healthy without having to be a parent — just a friend of the woman who's about to become her mother, a known entity in some regard but not a caregiver. And with as long as she's spent thinking about it, she knows she won't regret it.

Molly and Jessica finalize Jessica's adoption of Abigail.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, mentions of unwanted parenthood and postpartum depression ]

Finally alone, Molly considers going to a bar, but then pulls out her phone instead, firing off a quick text to Clarke. She may as well have a little company. It's less depressing than drinking alone. Everything's finally settled. :) Wanna come celebrate with me?

With everything settled, Molly and Clarke go out for drinks.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, same warnings as above ]

Dated September 15, 2017:

It's only a coincidence that she's near her lawyer's office when she decides to stop for lunch and a coffee, already in the area and remembering the café that Rebecca had showed her. With that being the case, though, it isn't much of a surprise to see Rebecca herself inside, and Molly smiles as she walks towards her.

Molly and Rebecca run into each other and catch up.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, same warnings as above ]

(no subject)

Sep. 16th, 2017 02:52 pm
notverywise: (and you're not coming back)
[personal profile] notverywise posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated September 16, 2017:

She flips past a few envelopes, a couple of bills, something clearly asking for money, a menu from a restaurant that's opened nearby, and then her heart drops into her stomach.

Mr and Mrs David Goldman, the address reads, and there are any number of them. She knows without having to remember vividly what the specific pieces of mail looked like that she's seen them before, found them crammed into a glove compartment while she was merely looking for a cigarette, about to celebrate her engagement to a man she didn't know was already married.

Jenny receives an unpleasant reminder of her past.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]
literaryimmortality: (pic#11619558)
[personal profile] literaryimmortality posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Mid September, 2017:

Just the thought that we could be stuck here and that this isn't some elaborate trick of our minds or cruel prank pulled by the people who built Darrow starts the panic setting in all over again. It's with one anxious glance that I meet Hawkeye's eyes again before starting around the corner. I need to get away from the pods. "I'm sorry, I can't be here any longer. Not right now."

Aurora and Hawkeye awaken to find themselves aboard the starship Avalon.

[ HERE | ongoing | some discussion of trauma ]

Sailing away, away...

Sep. 15th, 2017 01:28 pm
noldorinqueen: (Default)
[personal profile] noldorinqueen posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
 Returning to Valinor had, for such a long count of years, been nothing more than a far-off dream for Galadriel. At times she had begun to question whether her fate would ever move in that direction again, But with the final and utter defeat of Sauron, and having passed the test of wills that Frodo's unexpected offer during his brief sojourn in Lothlorien proved to be, she was bound at last for home. A final journey to return to the Blessed Lands and live out the rest of the world's days in peace and bliss, accompanied by the Ringbearer and her old friend, Mithrandir. They were some of the last to take a ship West, and there was much joy, mingled with only slight hints of trepidation, from the anticipation of seeing the shores of so wonderful a realm as Valinor - for some, it would be the first time, whereas for others, it would be a homecoming. A smooth journey it was, thanks to the fine ship and the marginally finer mariners, and no complaints were to be had all along the way.

Thus it came as somewhat of a surprise when she awoke from an afternoon's hazy slumber to find herself alone in the ship, drifting slowly towards an unfamiliar shore, beyond which lay a settlement of strange design. Never before had she seen such peculiar towers, and such varied forms of architecture, all gathered in one place. It was marvelous to behold, though it also presented somewhat of an enigma. This clearly was not Valinor - she could not make out any familiar geography, nor any of her kin. It could not be Tol Eressea, either. If it were so, then surely the Teleri would have welcomed her, or at least shown themselves. She looked around the ship once more, to see if anyone else was left, but she was indeed alone. One thing did catch her eye, though, for its marked difference from the items she knew had been on board.

There was a curious collection of manuscripts, alongside which aar. Some of the terms were unfamiliar to her, such as the mention of an 'apartment' Was this the doing of Ulmo, perhaps? Was she to be denied her return, despite all the trials, despite the atonement of her many years? Or did he have some grander purpose in mind, and she was to be the instrument of his work? Neither option appealed all too much, and so she tried to clear her mind of what anyone else might want her life to do at the moment, in favour of once again taking her own path. 

Crunching softly against the sand, her ship finally drifted ashore, and she descended gently from it, surveying the immediate area as well as the nearby sky-line. Various people were scattered around nearby, but she did not know what to ask them just yet. She took a step forward, bare feet enjoying the feeling of wet sand underneath, and began to walk slowly, deliberately, with a fairly proud gait in the direction of this settlement. If she was going to remain here for some unknown destiny, then she was not going to do it by hiding in the shadows. 


(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 06:14 pm
andhiswife: (trepidation)
[personal profile] andhiswife posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps

Her smile widens when Saoirse shyly offers her a folded bit of paper that's almost the same color as her cast. "For me?" she asks, accepting the offering, and then sinking into a crouch so she can be more on Saoirse's level. "Did you make this?"

Saoirse makes Greta a thank-you card, and gets more of a reaction than she anticipated.

[ HERE | ftb | cuties ]


It's not easier this time, or better, it's just different. She doesn't cry as much, because she doesn't have the energy for hysterics anymore. It's less like being tempest-tossed and more like being adrift, gritting her teeth through the intermittent swells of sorrow or bitter self-recrimination until the waters still again, and she can get on with things.

Greta gives Saoirse some bad news.

[ HERE | ongoing | sad cuties ]
unlimitable: (troubled)
[personal profile] unlimitable posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Every time Korra tries to put this off, Toph Beifong's voice echoes in her ears — that maybe she wants the metal to stay in her body. Maybe she wants to continue wallowing in fear. As much as Korra wants to justify delaying this process because of the shooting pains it sends throughout her body, each passing day makes her feel like the anxiety sinks further into her skin.

Any day now, Zaheer could show up in Darrow. Darrow is a city that runs on hierarchy, where most of the population takes the Mayor's words to heart, and even if bureaucracy doesn't outright block people from the government, getting an audience with an employee can take days. Weeks, depending on the department. It's the kind of system that Zaheer hates — he wants everything to be equal, everyone to start on the same playing field, even if it means taking out a few limbs or people to get there.

She has to be ready for that possibility. She has to be at her best, honing her bending technique every morning. But she can feel the weight in her limbs, the metal coursing through her veins, sending little spikes of pain throughout her body whenever she's about to deal a final blow.

If she can't even come out with a clean win against a stationary figure, how can she ever expect to best Zaheer in battle?

So Korra finds herself in the middle of the city park this morning, tucking herself away in the most secluded section of bushes and trees. Naga curls up beside Korra, head heavy on her front paws as she watches her human. Korra's legs are folded underneath her, crossed just above the ankles as she takes deep breaths in and out, relaxing her shoulders, feeling the blood course through her body.

"I can do this," she whispers under her breath, then raises her arms and starts to push.

Palms press against air, slow and steady, and beads of sweat start to form on her shoulders and neck. The metal passes through her arms, her calf, pounds in her temples. With a grimace, Korra pushes her palms out with more force, a couple beads of sweat flinging off of her fingertips. Her breath catches when she feels it, metal pressing up against her skin.

she's on her knees again, among the rocks and sweltering desert sun, but the air around her is crisp and cold and getting thinner, thinner as he pulls the air from her lungs, and she can't breathe and she can't

"Agh!" Korra shouts, doubling over, her arms pressed up against her stomach as she stops bending. Another failure. Her eyes burn in shame as she takes a moment to simply rest her forehead to her knee, trying to gather the will and energy to try again.

[ closed unless we've spoken - thank you! ]

[meme] test drive

Sep. 15th, 2017 11:58 am
citycouncil: (oncoming train)
[personal profile] citycouncil posting in [community profile] cityarcade
Tag into this post with characters you're thinking of apping to the game (characters who are not currently in-game or currently reserved by someone else). It can be just a tag, a brief EP, whatever you want. You can be new to the game, or simply want to test out a fresh pup. Tag each other with these characters or those already in game, and have fun.

Also, please include the name of their canon somewhere in or on the comment or on their profile page.
shuck_you: (t02)
[personal profile] shuck_you posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
September 4th:

Disappearances weren't all too unfamiliar for Thomas. Between his friends back home who'd died during their perilous trek through the Scorch and the people here who were here one day and gone the next, Thomas was pretty experienced with loss. That didn't mean he didn't want to help those he cared about when someone they were close to disappeared.

Thomas goes to check in on Tris after Isabelle's disappearance.

[ here | ongoing | pg for some sad talk ]


fuck_it: (Default)Chris Miles

March 2015

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