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milliways_bar2013-07-18 12:04 pm
herr_bookman) wrote in milliways_bar2013-07-18 12:04 pm
Entry tags:
- autor,
- cyborg,
- danny williams,
- ginny weasley,
- hannibal lecter,
- howard stark,
- jameson rook,
- kate barlow,
- korra,
- lake party,
- lohengrin (the knight),
- mia ausa,
- porthos,
- rabastan lestrange,
- rae "sunshine" seddon,
- scootaloo,
- steve mcgarrett,
- tamara the mermaid,
- teresa of the faint smile,
- tommy gavin,
- voodoo
(no subject)
The sun silently beats down on the grounds, waves of heat radiating off of everything. But then, a soft rumble begins. It grows louder and louder, starting in the mountains and crashing down down down until a great roaring avalanche of snow arrives...
The calm returns but the blistering heat is gone. "How's that, Autor?" Mia asks.
The boy smiles shyly at her, his warm, knitted scarf demonstrating a clear gradient of skill from raw novice to advanced beginner. "It's lovely," he says, squeezing her fingers in his gloved ones. "Thank you, Mia." Releasing them, he turns and places a hand on his hip to watch the next step.
At the mouth of the inlet a narrow cliff juts out into the water, covered by a thin layer of soil to which a mat of short grass is clinging, littered with demon bunny droppings. On this ledge, Korra stands, her feet planted firmly against the ground. Starting with that wide stance, Korra moves a foot and then pushes her arms in front and up, causing the lake bed to shift, and the waters to part as a narrow ledge of earth divides a smaller pond away from the larger lake.
Turning into the inlet, she leaps onto the surface and slides out into the center on a shelf of ice that stretches out in larger and larger crystals as it thickens beneath her. In the center of what will be the ice rink, Korra stops, and takes one calm, centering breath.
And then with her eyes closed she moves again, this time much more fluid in her motions, turning a slow circle on the ice with her arms in front of her, swaying as her weight shifts from foot to foot. A bubble of water rises in front of her, and as she pushes out, the bubble expands, passing through Korra so she's standing in the center of an ever expanding air filled bubble of water, stretching further and further out so by the time it hits the shore any onlookers will feel the cool sensation of water vapor from a fountain. She shifts her movement again, and the snowflake patterns of ice crystals appear at the top and the spread around the bubble, crystallizing and solidifying in a lattice of clear ice.
Then Korra opens her eyes, and finishes the rink as she slides back to the shore. There, a further turn and a sweeping gesture towards one side shatters a large hole in the side, perfect for a double door.
"Neat trick, Avatar," Autor says, accompanied by a saucy grin and an informal salute. With a few simple words, Mia sets a flurry fluttering down in the dome.
Once the rink is complete, the boy heads off to help an industrious ten-year-old set up the food and drinks table. There are some things too heavy for Rae to lift.
[Credit to the respective muns for their pups' part in the EP! Standard party post rules apply, all tags welcome.]
The calm returns but the blistering heat is gone. "How's that, Autor?" Mia asks.
The boy smiles shyly at her, his warm, knitted scarf demonstrating a clear gradient of skill from raw novice to advanced beginner. "It's lovely," he says, squeezing her fingers in his gloved ones. "Thank you, Mia." Releasing them, he turns and places a hand on his hip to watch the next step.
At the mouth of the inlet a narrow cliff juts out into the water, covered by a thin layer of soil to which a mat of short grass is clinging, littered with demon bunny droppings. On this ledge, Korra stands, her feet planted firmly against the ground. Starting with that wide stance, Korra moves a foot and then pushes her arms in front and up, causing the lake bed to shift, and the waters to part as a narrow ledge of earth divides a smaller pond away from the larger lake.
Turning into the inlet, she leaps onto the surface and slides out into the center on a shelf of ice that stretches out in larger and larger crystals as it thickens beneath her. In the center of what will be the ice rink, Korra stops, and takes one calm, centering breath.
And then with her eyes closed she moves again, this time much more fluid in her motions, turning a slow circle on the ice with her arms in front of her, swaying as her weight shifts from foot to foot. A bubble of water rises in front of her, and as she pushes out, the bubble expands, passing through Korra so she's standing in the center of an ever expanding air filled bubble of water, stretching further and further out so by the time it hits the shore any onlookers will feel the cool sensation of water vapor from a fountain. She shifts her movement again, and the snowflake patterns of ice crystals appear at the top and the spread around the bubble, crystallizing and solidifying in a lattice of clear ice.
Then Korra opens her eyes, and finishes the rink as she slides back to the shore. There, a further turn and a sweeping gesture towards one side shatters a large hole in the side, perfect for a double door.
"Neat trick, Avatar," Autor says, accompanied by a saucy grin and an informal salute. With a few simple words, Mia sets a flurry fluttering down in the dome.
Once the rink is complete, the boy heads off to help an industrious ten-year-old set up the food and drinks table. There are some things too heavy for Rae to lift.
[Credit to the respective muns for their pups' part in the EP! Standard party post rules apply, all tags welcome.]
Re: Ice Rink!
Nobody Tommy knows, maybe, but there's a burly blonde guy doing a few laps who's just skated up to the edge of the cordoned off area, and is studying it with definite interest.
Danny's itching to play. It's been a fuck of a week, and maybe if he slaps around a puck, gets a little rowdy on the ice, he'll be a little less likely to shove his foot down Rachel's lawyer's throat the next time he sees the guy.
..Maybe.
But it definitely couldn't hurt.
Re: Ice Rink!
Slowing down and coming to an easy stop a few feet down from him, he asks,
"You play?"
Tall and lanky, he couldn't be more Danny's physical opposite, but it takes all kinds to get a game of hockey going.
Re: Ice Rink!
He turns to the guy, any introspection vanishing in a sudden wall of bluster. "I play. Or, more accurately, I played once upon a far better time, when I still lived in a place that could dependably keep ice around for more than just cooling drinks. Yes, I play."
He pauses, studies the newcomer the way he'd previously studied the gear. Tall, long-limbed, Steve's height if not Steve's sheer mass -- but that doesn't matter on the ice. It's all about who wants to get things going. "I'm guessing you do, too."
Re: Ice Rink!
"Yep, I do. Captain of the FDNY's hockey team."
If the letters FDNY mean anything to Danny.
(And he's actually co-captain, but that's a minor detail. He would so be captain if he had his way, though.)
Actually, he does detect a bit of the East Coast about him -- not only the accent and the attitude, but a whole lot more than just that. He exudes East Coast, and it's not difficult to pick up on when you're from the same general area.
"Where're you living now that the only ice you see is in a mixed drink?"
Tommy says the phrase 'mixed drink' like it's a thing to be shunned.
Re: Ice Rink!
Danny recognizes that tone; he hears it from himself a thousand times a day. "Honolulu."
He says it like anyone else might say "Kotzebue, Alaska," or, depending on the speaker, "Cleveland."
"FDNY, huh?" There's a slight pause, but then he shoves past it with all the hesitation of a freight train bearing down on a clear stretch of track. "Newark PD, originally. My pop was a firefighter back in Jersey. You know, I thought I detected a hint of civilization in that accent."
Even if it's New York instead of Newark. Hey, it could be worse, right? Could be Boston.
He tips his head towards the gear. "You lookin' to pick something up?"
Re: Ice Rink!
Still, the more he hears from this guy, the more he already thinks he's all right, even if he is a cop from Jersey. After all, firefighters and cops are cut from the same cloth.
"Lemme put it this way: I'd say it's a pretty goddamn small universe when it plunks us both down on the same slab of magic ice today, so you bet your ass I'm up for a game."
Tommy is moving past the barriers before he's even done speaking and skates toward one of the nets where some sticks are propped up. As he tests the weight and feel for one, examining the curve of its blade and the way it sits in his hands, he decides that this is decent equipment.
"Name's Tommy, by the way. Tommy Gavin."
Re: Ice Rink!
He's heading in, too, skating towards the equipment. It all looks pretty good, just like the skates -- with the sheen of too new, of course, totally untouched, so when he finds one he likes, he starts looking around for tape. "No, no, no, if it were up to me, Hawaii would just be a place best seen in movies and on postcards from people I barely know who want to tell me they're on vacation and lying about wishing I was there. Unfortunately, my delicate flower of an ex-wife decided to move there with her new husband and my daughter. So I moved."
He shrugs, what're you gonna do? but it's aggressive enough that it looks a whole lot more like he'd be happier punching someone in the face. "So there I am, stuck on this pineapple-infested excuse for a sandspit, with no snow, no winter, and ice rinks that make the rattiest community rink in Newark look like the goddamn Olympics."
There's a roll; he grabs it and starts carefully taping the blade. "Tommy, always good to meet a fellow East Coaster. Danny Williams."
Re: Ice Rink!
"Yeah, Hawaii always sounds like a nice place to visit for a week, but I can't imagine living there. I mean, c'mon. Volcanoes. Tsunamis. Sharks. Tourists. Who the hell wants to deal with that shit day in and day out? Plus, I like weather. I like seasons. They let me know when to turn the page on my calendar. Toss me that when you're done," he adds casually with a jerk of his chin toward the roll of tape.
Leaning on his stick, he concludes, "Real deal East Coasters are hard to come by 'round these parts, so it's good to meet you, too. I'll even excuse the fact that you're from Jersey."
Smirk.
Re: Ice Rink!
Finishing up, he sticks the loose end of the tape down, and tosses the roll over, still talking as he taps the ice with the blade, tests out to feel of the stick. "Me, I like cities. Skyscrapers, corner stores with actual deli meats instead of a million cans of SPAM. Cabs that don't cost an arm and a leg. And none of that tropical-getaway tourist trap bullshit that's all over the place."
That last shot might have rolled off his back, except for the way he grins a mocking smile back. "Almost as bad as Manhattan."
Re: Ice Rink!
He catches the roll of tape with one hand, and begins the process of wrapping the blade of his stick.
"Almost as bad? You really wanna get into that?"
Yes, Tommy is aware that he started it. He just smirks right back again.
Re: Ice Rink!
He scoops out a puck, starts dribbling it back and forth, short controlled motions, swooping into a wide circle in front of one net.
"I thought I was gonna need a passport to get into Times Square last time I was there."
Re: Ice Rink!
He tears the tape and tamps it down. Shifting the stick in his hands, he watches Danny's movements on the ice and pushes off, skating in an opposite arc to potentially block him.
"Meanwhile, in Newark-- well, nobody wants to go to Newark on purpose."
Re: Ice Rink!
But then the guy takes a potshot at Newark, and Danny snorts, tapping the puck with one blade and catching it again with the curved blade of the stick as he cuts back across, shortchanging Tommy's arc.
"Sure, they all decide to live in New York in apartments they can't afford, the size of shoeboxes, that don't even have kitchens."
Okay. Maybe he can't talk, considering where he lives now, but it's the principle of the thing.
Re: Ice Rink!
When Danny cuts across, Tommy follows suit, blades digging into the ice as he changes direction and doubles back. This time, his intent is not just to block the net, but to steal the puck away.
Trash talk shifts to casual conversation, even as Tommy heads toward him with an easy charge, stick outstretched, aiming for the puck.
"How old is your daughter?"
Re: Ice Rink!
Grace is his favorite subject. He can wax lyrical about her brilliance, her goodness, and the fact that she has both a sharp sense of humor and a great poker face, for hours. He'd talk anyone's ear off them, once Grace became the topic of conversation.
Unfortunately, Tommy's long limbs and even longer reach are making it hard to talk and defend the puck at the same time, and he's got to concentrate, as the other blade comes sneaking in to try and steal the puck away, rattling against his.
"You got kids?"
Re: Ice Rink!
"Yep. Katy's also eight, Colleen's almost sixteen. Wait 'til your girl hits double digits, it's a riot."
Their sticks clash as Tommy tries to poke the puck away from him. It's swatted free, and Tommy races after it.