hippocrene | Recent Entries

For once, he really wasn't looking for trouble. He'd intended to catch a Space Pirates concert on the Twist, maybe offer Hattie another adventure.

Instead, every single sensor and alarm are going absolutely haywire as the console room rocks violently around him.

"I know, I know!" The TARDIS is screaming in his head; it's very rare that she's been this confused, this afraid. "All we need now is the Cloister Bell to - and there we go."

He scrambles around the console, pushing buttons and flicking switches. For a second or two their flight will smooth out, but it never lasts. Meanwhile, her pain only grows, and he collects entirely too many bruises himself.

The proximity alert has joined the frenetic chorus, though he can't actually tell which planet it is. Nothing he does works even slightly, now.

There's nothing for it; they're going to crash. All he can do is brace himself.

littlesnowflake

Well, this sure wasn't the plan.

Illyana meant to teleport herself a few months into the future, just to check out how well their new Headmaster was doing. Instead, she's not even in New York.

She doesn't know where she is, considering all the obvious mutants walking around. It makes her stomach twist with angry anxiety, at first, but there's no jeering, no threats, no violence.

Some of them stare at her a little too long, before shaking their heads and moving on. Some of them compliment her retro uniform. It's bizarre, and fascinating, and she can hear Dani in her head telling her to come home already, but this is -

Something like paradise. Which means she really, really shouldn't trust it. And she should get to the bottom of it. And that's why she wanders around wide-eyed, like she's a little girl just off the farm.

bodilesswarrior

Well, this has certainly been a week.

Stephanie came back from the dead, bringing allies from an interdimensional prison ship, which included another Oracle, a reformed David Cain, and a parallel universe Joker.

She wasn't in any position to refuse help; Gotham had been ravaged for weeks, and it wasn't looking to get any better.

And, in the end, Steph and her crew pulled off one hell of a save when Black Mask invaded her tower.

They still have a lot of work to do, of course. They need to rebuild the city, repair their relationship with the GCPD, hunt down the remnants of Black Mask's cabal. For the moment, though, she's resting.

Well, for a given value of "resting". She's still in her control room, her computers are still on. She's just leaning back in her chair, eyes closed, hands clasped in her lap.

Until the perimeter is breached, anyway. It's not an intruder alarm; it's someone the tower recognises. Within seconds, it informs her exactly who it is.

Well. This will be interesting.

abetterway

It only takes Jocelyn an instant to realise she's no longer in the Old City. The atmosphere changed as soon as she came through the door, from tense and strained to blithe and easy. The windows offer a spectacle of silver stars. The room itself is designed like nothing she's ever seen, a vibrant blend of a dozen eras.

It's not the first time she's been here. Any door can lead to the pub, apparently. From what she's gathered, it's a sanctuary between worlds, open to anyone at all. She's pondered attempting to harness the technology, but such thoughts are always interrupted by a faint, insistent buzzing.

So she's taken to using the rare excursions as opportunities for rest and reflection, secure from the looming dangers and relentless frustrations of Verdana.

She supposes it's rather boring of her to order scotch in an intergalactic pub, but it's not not exactly available otherwise, and the smoky richness of Talisker on her tongue is a comfort all its own.

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