thatsmysword | Reading

( It wasn't that Rey had put off coming here. She'd known what planet it was on, but not where, and she'd just felt called here the past day or so. )

[NFB, NFI, ship modded with permission.]

chef_chocobro

There would always be a part of Ignis that couldn't help but feeling that retaining his lease on the MHA apartment was a waste of money and resources, though that part of him was swiftly quieted by the irrefutable evidence of just how convenient and useful still having it and having access to it had been. Not only as a conveniently closer location for quick bursts of romantic rendezvous, but also as an excellent place to work on things or to keep things that might run the risk of early exposure, thus ruining some surprise, were it to occur or be held at the mansion. Which did seem to make it quite the glorified storage unit, really, but a useful one at that.

Well, not just a glorified storage unit, but even if it was just that, regular maintenance on it was especially crucial because it was not being used. Letting something sit and forgetting about all the finer details was an excellent way to ensure its slow decay. But those romantic rendezvous were fairly regular...but what of the time in between them? Dust still collected, a staleness settled in the air, a dormant, vacant space was just an invitation to all sorts of settling uncleanliness and other things.

So Ignis had made it a habit, usually after his visit to the Consortium, of swinging by the apartment to clean. To check appliances and fixtures, let in some fresh air, change the linens, keep tabs on general wear-and-tear through the march of time...All those little things that kept a place habitable that flew under most people's radars.

Perhaps it was just old habits, too. He found a certain comfort and familiarity in being the steady, silent, unseen force that made the lives of those he cared about seamlessly better in ways they'd never even realize. Liliana might spend, at best, an hour or two a week in the MHA apartment, but that was no reason why it shouldn't be perfect and immaculate every time she did.

So, needless to day, when he came by that Monday to tidy up and discover it to be anything but the usual quiet stillness he was accustomed to, he was a little thrown. Even more so by the fact that he was greeted not only with an inordinate amount of activity coming from the kitchen (leading one to, for a brief moment, dread a potential raccoon- or gremlin-related break-in), but also the scent of cooking (or at least the attempts at it) and the occasional worrisome thump or clatter followed by rather unique and colorful cursing. Concern creased his brow for a moment (in part just because his mind was already thinking of the additional cleaning time required this week now), but then his head tilted with the curiosity that was overriding it as he ventured that way.

"....Liliana?"

[[ and for the unexpected kitchen invader, obvi~ and doubly NFB, se vois plait ]]

suitably_heroic

If he was completely honest with himself, Jack was still kind of tired after last night. So many people, actually responding to what they were doing, in an unfamiliar place full of unfamiliar people. It was insane to remember that they'd started--

Well, right here, in this bar, with about ten people shuffling up to the front eventually while they made their way through a smattering of metal greats, pop-punk hits and snarky pop covers played at double speed.

Tonight, there were more people - the bar was close to packed - and most of the music on the set list was their own. The clink of glasses, the smell of illicit cigarette smoke and sweat, the wild hair in the audience. It all felt familiar, in a way that hadn't always been safe but had definitely made it there now.

( You'll never guess where we were yesterday. )

[[ nfb, can be open to phone calls or unannounced bar appearances ]]

heroic_jawline

Steve had two puppies in cones of shame skittering over wooden floors and an ice pack over one of his eyes as he flopped onto the sofa in Tony's massive mansion living room.

"Who sells the information about puppies getting spayed to Hydra?!" he demanded, his outrage still high despite this being at least the fifth time he'd asked the question.

[OOC: For the husband!]

deathsmajesty

Even so, your good nature and opinion matters to me.

It was odd, Liliana thought, lounging in her ridiculous bathtub, surrounded by lightly perfumed water and bubbles nearly up to her chin, how the most random sentences could affect you.

I would listen to your advice about breakfast.

Steven's words had been...well, not haunting her since the afternoon before. More like occasionally lurking underfoot, causing her to stumble over them when she least expected it.

( A simple thing. )

Ugh, self-reflection was terrible. No wonder she rarely bothered. She downed her glass of wine and quickly poured herself another. And considered, hardly for the first time and certainly not the last, whether it might not just be better to cut her losses and run.

Current Music: Devil On My Shoulder, Faith Marie

pocketpretzels

The division of labour in their relationship- their marriage- meant that Steven typically handled the details regarding parties and get-togethers, while Watts handled those for holidays and getaways. Like this camping trip at Honeymoon Lake in Alberta.

They'd slept in that morning, catching the portal to the campground in the afternoon. After setting up the tent, they'd taken a walk to explore the grounds and then dipped into the lake for a swim.

With the sun setting, it was time for dinner: Just a simple dish of pasta with marinara sauce, prepared over the fire.

"I thought we could try something a little more involved tomorrow on one of the camp stoves," Watts said. "But for tonight, I figured this would do."

suitably_heroic

Another day, another show, this time upstate. Dane and Trent had gone on ahead earlier that morning to get to their rental. But a bunch of Jill's gear was still locked up at practice, never mind some of Dane's amps, and so it fell to the drummer and the singer to roll all of their stuff out onto the street while they waited for their ride to show up.

"I swear if short range portals weren't so expensive, I would never drive anywhere again a day in my life," Jack groused, as he attempted to peer over the edge of the kick drum, just to make sure he wasn't about to bowl someone over.

"Oh please," Jill said, as hauled two of her toms over her shoulder. "You're too much of a control freak. You're going to grab the wheel in that car as soon as it gets here and we'll have to wrench it back out of your hands when we get there."

"I could give that up for short range portals." Jack squatted down to set the kick drum down by the side of the road. He stretched up, tilting his head sideways in a desperate attempt to dispell the crick in his neck. "Maybe with some kind of speeder that actually goes up the stairs, so we don't keep having to do this."

( And then we'll get a unicorn... )

[[ nfb, nfi. ]]

giveittoyoursister

Vi had had Plans back in February, and while that had been extremely derailed by the sex pollen, she had realised this early enough that she'd managed to move her reservation rather than lose it.

So now here she and Steph were for their fancy hotel weekend. Even if she was kind of low-key freaking out when she let herself think about why she'd picked this weekend in particular for their catch up trip.

And while she'd known from the pictures (and the sizable dent in her savings) that this was an expensive place, it didn't really sink in exactly what that meant until she got an actual look at their suite.

"Whoa."

[For the girl.]

totalwildcard

See, right, yeah. With a party on the island that Harley couldn't go to, it was clearly time for her to get back out there. Put her face on and go paint the town red! Get back in the saddle! Go forth and find a -- find a stallion, or something, a nice little forgettable rebound! Drink and laugh and have a healing experience through the most meaningless means possible!

Those, at least, were the thoughts Harley had had when she'd been getting ready at home. When she'd been putting on a nice skimpy dress under a leather jacket and fixing some big fake flowers in her updo, still believing in her chances of a nice night out.

The reality was this:

( The reality )

(NFB, NFI)

hasaknightjob

The weather had turned out rather nice for a late day beach party, being not too hot or unforgivably sunny.

When guests arrived they would see that the area behind the boarding house had been set up with chairs, blankets, towels, baskets with bottles of sunscreen, and umbrellas for those who wanted to enjoy the sun and sand. Closer to the house were seats and picnic tables for mingling and eating. The doors to the building were open for anyone who needed to go inside to get away from the noise or simply enjoy some air conditioning.

The decorations were simple. White tablecloths and napkins. Two banners were hung above the food stations which read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WATTS" and "MAZEL TOV, WATTS AND STEVEN" Beautiful displays of red roses, sunflowers, and the occasional honeysuckle courtesy of Nell could be found in centerpieces as well as garlands hung up about the space. A dance area was set up off to the side with white fairy lights (the electric kind, not actual fairies) lending atmosphere. Music came courtesy of the outdoor speakers Cal had installed.

Food was set up on various tables for guests to help themselves. Vegan and nonvegan options were available at all stations, with labels on everything to help those who had dietary restrictions or allergies. One table had cheeses, crackers, fruits, raw vegetables, quinoa cakes with tomatoes, olives, dips, and other nibbly things. Another had various salads such as fig and blackberry, black bean and corn, rice with seasonal vegetables, and of course garden salads of seasonal vegetables and dressings. Another was a setup of soft pretzels and fresh popcorn, also with various ~~moddable~~ toppings.

For the mains, there were burger and hot dog stations with various ~~moddable~~ types of burgers, dogs, buns, and toppings.

Dessert was a Pretzel Cake with "Happy Birthday, Watts" written across the top, along with assorted cupcakes, mini ice cream cones, grilled tropical fruit skewers, a s'mores station, and popsicle cocktails.

Drinks were various juices, water, sodas, beer, and wines that Watts had picked out with notes about which paired best with the various offered foods.

Steven was there, dressed in his linen suit from the wedding. Because if you couldn't wear your wedding suit to the party that was in part to celebrate your marriage, when could you? He was going to be fussing over every possible detail until guests arrived to distract him. Or his husband did. Possibly both.

Watts was also dressed in the suit he'd gotten married in, because see above reasoning. He was currently distracted from distracting Steven from fussing because he was too busy watching said fussing with charmed fondness.

[Open to any who want to celebrate a birthday, a wedding, or just enjoy a beach party!]

deathsmajesty

Liliana was still in human form when class began today, so already that was a great start. "I was unavoidably detained during last class," she said, which could almost be an apology if you ignored the part where she didn't actually say those words and also didn't ask what she was unavoidably detained by. ( Two! Two lectures in one, ha ha ha )

A sip from her thermos of tea. "And that catches us up with times three and four where Urza ruined everything. Next class, we'll be jumping ahead about a thousand years to the Phyrexian War." She gave them a thin smile. "Don't worry, it gets worse."

mustbeawitch

Did Lydia know what an 'empanada' was? Well, she had seen a picture of one, and so understood that they were a sort of pasty or hand pie, but if she had known that previously (perhaps through one of Professor Raiden's classes), it had quite slipped her mind, and she was mostly preoccupied with hoping that this modern and apparently Peruvian variant was tastier and of higher quality than the ones she had occasionally eaten in Newcastle.

But then, the less said about Newcastle, the better.

Welcome to Supper Club, everyone!

solo_sword

Aside from all the intergalactic political intrigue and maybe torturing a spouse via public games, life in the house was very normal. Like the argument Jaina was having over whether or not Daniel had to go to bed.

"I'm eight years old, I'm practically grown up!" he said, in complete seriousness.

"And I'm much older than eight so I win," Jaina shrugged.

"I shouldn't have to take this," he said. "I'm a prince."

"Don't care," she said.

"Daniel," Jag said from his spot on the sofa.

Daniel made a frustrated noise, but stomped off to his room without another word.

She made an annoyed face not at Jag, but in his general direction. "It's annoying that you could do that.
Thank you."

[For me!]

hasaknightjob

Marc had needed to clear his head, so Sunday he portaled over to London. Find some places off the beaten path he knew from before everything that had happened with Steven. Places where he could get a drink and, well, suffice it to say blow off some steam. ( Slightly more happened than that though. Cut for allusions to violence. )

After which Marc got up, ate a quick breakfast over the sink in the kitchen, then headed over to his office in the boarding house.

He had a job. Several jobs, kind of, but really all of one thing. Now he was doing the one where he kept an eye out over the building he was responsible for and the people who lived in it. Even if that currently presented as sitting in the chair behind his desk and thinking about nothing as he watched the beach through the window.

[open!]

okteiviakom

The portals back to Fandom seemed to be operational again. Octavia had half expected for it to have been just a blip when the first notificatins had abruptly hit Lucifer's phone, but no. Seemed like they were actually staying available, now.

Octavia was yet to take one. In part because maybe she'd been bracing for... something, after Rory had shown up. A swift change, maybe, but none had come. They remained at the same standstill they'd been all summer in LA so far, now just with the added complication of a daughter who'd been theirs but now wasn't.

And Octavia was stuck in the same pattern of trying to find something, anything, to hold on to.

Sunday was another one of those days. She traveled from Lux to the Rouge, first, and then with all of her little garden taken care of she just... picked a direction and took whatever means of transport there was to travel that way, to see where she would land, what she would see.

This time, she found a crowd. Not an unusual sight in LA, in itself, everywhere so busy with people, but this was different. More concentrated, standing outside a big building that couldn't have been chosen by accident, holding signs, chanting. That last part made the hairs on the back of Octavia's neck stand up, but she pushed forward anyway, curious. First to see the signs more up close, then to ask someone about them.

The people were making demands of the city. They wanted every new plan for housing to also come with plans for parks, they wanted the construction of houses itself to be greener, they wanted more of the city to be unpaved.

They planned for the demonstration to be ongoing throughout the following week.

And something in Octavia sang, maybe. Maybe this was what she'd been looking for. After all, she fit right in. Aligned with the goals, immediately learned some of the chants, struck up conversations with people who all told her of different grassroots efforts to make the city better for every living thing in it. She learned to scan QR codes and diligently bookmarked everything in her phone.

Later, as she was taking the elevator up to Lucifer's penthouse, her mind felt busy and her body was restless.

[ooc: NFB due to distance, but open.]

suitably_heroic

It wasn't that the post-album-release storm had gone down, or anything. Kind of the opposite: they just kept tacking on gigs, or potential gigs (one of which Jack didn't want to think about too much, because it was-- much), radio stuff, the works. Jack'd thought they'd done pretty well with the first one, but this time, it felt a little like... momentum?

Weird.

Anyway, it wasn't like all of that had ( gone away. But they'd had a quiet Saturday at home, for once. )

[[ nfb, can be open to phone calls. ]]

joan_of_bark

"Harley?! Where are you?!"

It'd been five days, and Pam was worried. So she'd dragged herself back to the Gotham City apartment, and found-- no one. "Janet, did you check the balcony?" she asked, turning towards the petite blonde by the window.

She felt a faint wetness by her hand, and looked-- oh. That was just Lou.

"Yeah, twice," Janet said, peering through the window again. "Want me to try to phone her again?"

"Maybe?" Pam said, pushing her way past Janet and onto the balcony. "Last time she was gone, there was this cosmic treadm--"

( WHAM. )

[[ nfb, can be open to phone calls/texts. taken from Harley Quinn #32 and Poison Ivy #16, long live connecting comics titles and their continuity ]]

knightinshinarmor

Remy was now extremely familiar with breaking into the shop downstairs, but he seldom made his way from there up to the apartment above. Harley had been pretty clear about her boundaries, and he only really felt okay violating them in the shop itself.

But he'd just had a conversation with Pam and felt the need to offer at least a little something that might help Harley with her mood in these trying times. So after booking a quickie portal down to New Orleans, he returned to Fandom with a plate of what at first glance appeared to be entirely powdered sugar, but was, in fact, beignets. Direct from the very best source of the excessively sugared treats, Cafe du Monde.

He fully intended to just drop the plate off, knock on her door, and then duck speedily out of sight. Let it be an anonymous treat.

He might be ever so slightly off his game, though, with Pam's comment about Harley being an alternate version of her girlfriend, and what it would be like for him to have to hang out with an alternate Rogue every day, cycling through his mind. . . .

[for the one whose apartment it is, please!]

Profile

Henry of Skalitz

May 2025

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Page Summary

thatwaslucky - Ossus- Monday
chef_chocobro - MHA #18; Monday Afternoon [08/11].
suitably_heroic - A Small Alternative Bar, Manhattan, Sunday Evening
heroic_jawline - Tony's Mansion, New York, Saturday afternoon
deathsmajesty - The Creepy But Very Luxurious Mansion In The Woods, Saturday Afternoon
pocketpretzels - Honeymoon Lake Campground, Jasper, Alberta, Saturday Evening
suitably_heroic - A Practice Space, Brooklyn, Saturday Noon
giveittoyoursister - Suite Seventeen, The Ivy Hotel, Baltimore, Saturday Afternoon
totalwildcard - A Cuban Restaurant, Baltimore; Friday Night
hasaknightjob - The Beach Behind Midnight Manor, Friday afternoon through evening
deathsmajesty - 5 Times Urza Ruined Everything, Thursday, Per 1
mustbeawitch - Empa511, Baltimore, Maryland, Thursday Evening
solo_sword - IX Serendipity Place- Wednesday night
hasaknightjob - Midnight Manor Boarding House, Marc's Office, Tuesday
okteiviakom - Lucifer's Los Angeles, Sunday
suitably_heroic - A Dinky Apartment, Manhattan, New York City, Sunday Morning-Ish
joan_of_bark - Gotham City, Friday Night into Saturday Morning
knightinshinarmor - Outside the apartment above Needful Things, Thursday afternoon

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