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Jun. 10th, 2008 10:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no-real-hero.livejournal.com[ OOM: In Paris, there's no denying that things have been set into motion.]
[Contains spoilers for Y: The Last Man #56 ]
[Contains spoilers for Y: The Last Man #56 ]
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Oct. 10th, 2007 03:11 pmno-real-hero.livejournal.comIsn't this place a little bit of heaven... and that's one goddamn place she never expected to be. It's been a beautiful little respite, a couple carefree days which is a couple more carefree days than she expected to have. And what a relief to know time hasn't been passing outside while they've been sleeping and eating and talking and men, men, men, and she can hardly bear the thought of giving it up.
But she owes her brother, and she's a part of this whole thing just like Beth and Beth Junior. And Spike, although he's been the silent partner in the whole affair. They'll be here any minute. Her timing isn't bad at all; she sets down her empty coke glass and stands just as Beth, Spike, and Junior suddenly appear next to that portrait of the dogs playing poker. It always freaks her out just a little bit, seeing people climb out of a picture.
They walk toward the bar, where Spike leaves a pile of paper: peeking over his shoulder she sees notes for Tom and Door, Ingress, Elaine le Blanke, and Faye Valentine. If they have any lingering remorse about going back, none of them are showing it... much.
Moving over to the door together, she knows there really isn't a goddamn thing she can say, so she doesn't say a goddamn thing. Instead she turns back, looks around one more time, and by the time her attention's returned to her travel companions there are only two of them visible, although she knows the third is still there but hidden. With a single nod in their direction, her hand grasps the doorknob and gives it a good tug.
See you later, bar.
When the door closes behind them, the church looks exactly like it did when they first saw it... except for that little rock now lying on the medieval stone floor.
But she owes her brother, and she's a part of this whole thing just like Beth and Beth Junior. And Spike, although he's been the silent partner in the whole affair. They'll be here any minute. Her timing isn't bad at all; she sets down her empty coke glass and stands just as Beth, Spike, and Junior suddenly appear next to that portrait of the dogs playing poker. It always freaks her out just a little bit, seeing people climb out of a picture.
They walk toward the bar, where Spike leaves a pile of paper: peeking over his shoulder she sees notes for Tom and Door, Ingress, Elaine le Blanke, and Faye Valentine. If they have any lingering remorse about going back, none of them are showing it... much.
Moving over to the door together, she knows there really isn't a goddamn thing she can say, so she doesn't say a goddamn thing. Instead she turns back, looks around one more time, and by the time her attention's returned to her travel companions there are only two of them visible, although she knows the third is still there but hidden. With a single nod in their direction, her hand grasps the doorknob and gives it a good tug.
See you later, bar.
When the door closes behind them, the church looks exactly like it did when they first saw it... except for that little rock now lying on the medieval stone floor.
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Sep. 26th, 2007 01:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stbethadettes(They may not have long to enjoy it, but Beth and Spike agree that they could get used to being back.)
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Sep. 16th, 2007 12:05 pmnot_that_spikeIt's been... a really long time: he didn't think he was ever going to see this place again. It's both great and terrible in this crushing sort of way -- the universe is so damn fickle -- but as the door closes behind them and they step in like the ragtag remnants of some mismatched army, he can't help but smile. Just a little, and pat the back of the baby sleeping in his arms, whisper in her ear. "Hey, Junior. Check it out. More guys." He knows when she's fast asleep like this there's no budging her without a hell of a cranky crying fit and it doesn't matter that she's sleeping through it. She's only little, after all, and can sleep through anything in that I'm not even a year old, so let me have my nap sort of way she's got going for herself. Hero's drink offer aside, family matters have to come first: it's the princess's nap time, and that gets to be honored.
Cradling Junior carefully against the sudden intrusion of light and noise and smoke and laughter and smells and people and all that good shit, he leans over and gives Beth a kiss on the cheek. First time in something like six months he's been able to do that in a room full of people, and it's a nice change of pace. Breathing out of that cloak is... well, fuck, he can have a damn smoke if he wants: it's been six months since that happened, too, or sit down and have a hot meal, change his clothes, set Junior down in her crib, hold Beth.
Hold Beth. Without a time limit, without looking over his shoulder to see if someone's approaching. That sounds like the best thing of all, and his mind wants to start racing: if this works and they can come and go and this door stays for them, they could come back here for a couple hours at a time and not have to worry about things and still look for Hero's brother and still...
Whoa, bounty hunter. One step at a time.
"Let's get Junior in her crib." That's a luxury all to itself and it will be for their little princess, too: it's been a long time since she had a good napping place, although that baby carriage has been a pretty nice soft spot for her and she's used that. Still, her crib. Her own crib. He's definitely taking pictures of this one. "Meet back here in about an hour for that drink?" That will give them time, him and Beth, alone together. "Everyone okay with that?"
Junior is: she's sound asleep. Beth is: she promises Hero's getting the key to her old room so they all have somewhere to go and whether or not Hero uses it isn't the point: it's that she's got the option and he gets that. Hero's good with it: she's got that look in her eyes, the one that says she's not going to waste a minute of the freedom this place affords. They're all agreed. He nods to Hero and she nods back to them; it's all good. They know they won't be here long if that door cooperates, and they're all going to make the most of it. There's no more hesitation as he and Beth walk over to the House of Arch portrait, her arm around his waist just like old times, and disappear through it.
Time to go home for a while.
Cradling Junior carefully against the sudden intrusion of light and noise and smoke and laughter and smells and people and all that good shit, he leans over and gives Beth a kiss on the cheek. First time in something like six months he's been able to do that in a room full of people, and it's a nice change of pace. Breathing out of that cloak is... well, fuck, he can have a damn smoke if he wants: it's been six months since that happened, too, or sit down and have a hot meal, change his clothes, set Junior down in her crib, hold Beth.
Hold Beth. Without a time limit, without looking over his shoulder to see if someone's approaching. That sounds like the best thing of all, and his mind wants to start racing: if this works and they can come and go and this door stays for them, they could come back here for a couple hours at a time and not have to worry about things and still look for Hero's brother and still...
Whoa, bounty hunter. One step at a time.
"Let's get Junior in her crib." That's a luxury all to itself and it will be for their little princess, too: it's been a long time since she had a good napping place, although that baby carriage has been a pretty nice soft spot for her and she's used that. Still, her crib. Her own crib. He's definitely taking pictures of this one. "Meet back here in about an hour for that drink?" That will give them time, him and Beth, alone together. "Everyone okay with that?"
Junior is: she's sound asleep. Beth is: she promises Hero's getting the key to her old room so they all have somewhere to go and whether or not Hero uses it isn't the point: it's that she's got the option and he gets that. Hero's good with it: she's got that look in her eyes, the one that says she's not going to waste a minute of the freedom this place affords. They're all agreed. He nods to Hero and she nods back to them; it's all good. They know they won't be here long if that door cooperates, and they're all going to make the most of it. There's no more hesitation as he and Beth walk over to the House of Arch portrait, her arm around his waist just like old times, and disappear through it.
Time to go home for a while.
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Aug. 6th, 2007 11:48 pmnot_that_spike[ OOM: Salutations de Paris, souhaitent que vous ayez été ici! or... hey, I never claimed my French doesn't suck. ]
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May. 20th, 2007 04:45 pmnot_that_spike[ OOM: On Earth, times are few and far between for stealing a few precious minutes together ]
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Feb. 20th, 2007 07:47 pmnot_that_spikeFuck Mardi Gras. They don't have it on Mars and it's almost like Bar knows better than to screw with him, at least not right now; he's not going to stand for it. Instead, his ass is parked at a table not right in front of the door but with a good view of it, about halfway between the door and the portrait leading back to Tom and Door's house. He's got a cup of coffee, a small bowl of shikonberries, and a pack and a half of cigarettes.
One ashtray is mostly full already. He's pretty much absorbed in The Tao of Jeet Kune Do, even though he practically has the damn thing memorized. It's one of those ones he can read again and again and again, because when a guy adopts a spiritual mentor, the learning never stops. The book is old and well-worn and has a look about it that says it's much loved, and it is. It's one of his favorite possessions, and he's not real big on possessions: he cares about his lighter, his gun, his jacket and tie, the Swordfish II, and a few books.
Every time the door opens he glances up at it -- almost carelessly, almost like it's just old habit -- before going back to his book. Right now he's reading the section on Preliminaries, because he's teaching Ingress and she's just a beginner and while he'd like to spend time on the more Zen aspect of it, she's only a little kid. She doesn't have that kind of patience, but he does so he reminds himself that just because this is a spiritual practice for him, it doesn't have to be for her. It can be whatever she makes of it and whatever she takes from it. So he's back to basics, and the basics of Jeet Kune Do (beyond the spiritual) come from training, and he's refreshing his memory on exactly what the book has to say about that.
Training is one of the most neglected phases of athletics. Too much time is given to the development of skill and too little to the development of the individual for participation. Training deals not with an object, but with the human spirit and human emotions. It takes intellect and judgment to handle such delicate qualities as these.
Training is the psychological and physiological conditioning of an individual preparing for intense neural and muscular reaction. It implies discipline of the mind and power and endurance of the body. It means skill. It is all these things working together in harmony.
See, it's all related. It's all part of that same bigger picture. It's Zen, it's balance, it's water. It's... the door again; he glances up.
One ashtray is mostly full already. He's pretty much absorbed in The Tao of Jeet Kune Do, even though he practically has the damn thing memorized. It's one of those ones he can read again and again and again, because when a guy adopts a spiritual mentor, the learning never stops. The book is old and well-worn and has a look about it that says it's much loved, and it is. It's one of his favorite possessions, and he's not real big on possessions: he cares about his lighter, his gun, his jacket and tie, the Swordfish II, and a few books.
Every time the door opens he glances up at it -- almost carelessly, almost like it's just old habit -- before going back to his book. Right now he's reading the section on Preliminaries, because he's teaching Ingress and she's just a beginner and while he'd like to spend time on the more Zen aspect of it, she's only a little kid. She doesn't have that kind of patience, but he does so he reminds himself that just because this is a spiritual practice for him, it doesn't have to be for her. It can be whatever she makes of it and whatever she takes from it. So he's back to basics, and the basics of Jeet Kune Do (beyond the spiritual) come from training, and he's refreshing his memory on exactly what the book has to say about that.
Training is one of the most neglected phases of athletics. Too much time is given to the development of skill and too little to the development of the individual for participation. Training deals not with an object, but with the human spirit and human emotions. It takes intellect and judgment to handle such delicate qualities as these.
Training is the psychological and physiological conditioning of an individual preparing for intense neural and muscular reaction. It implies discipline of the mind and power and endurance of the body. It means skill. It is all these things working together in harmony.
See, it's all related. It's all part of that same bigger picture. It's Zen, it's balance, it's water. It's... the door again; he glances up.
(no subject)
Feb. 5th, 2007 08:34 pmstbethadettes(An hour or so ago.)
When Beth and Spike come in from the House of Arch, she's got a hell of a lot more on her than she ever has for her trips out with him, but none of those trips ever involved a baby. And all of those trips were to places where she could easily buy anything she forgot and needed mid-trip.
Her small backpack's been stuffed with everything it can possibly fit (and then some), and even more has been crammed into the flowery bag holding all the baby's things. And Junior, dressed in preparation for chilly weather and seemingly fascinated by her new vantage point, is securely strapped to her back.
Her cap's on, her sunglasses are on, her hair's pulled back, and her hand... is clasped tightly in Spike's.
The life Yorick's leading out there is no life for Spike, but just this one time, she has to firmly remind herself that she would never want that for him. It's a wonder Yorick's still alive -- if he is -- and she won't take the risk with Spike. It's a proven fact that any remnants of the plague that could be in the air wouldn't hurt him, but the plague is pretty fucking far from the only danger for him. Spike can take better care of himself than Yorick, no question, but Spike would be a fuck of a lot harder to miss.
She just couldn't take him.
Sliding her sunglasses down her nose a little, she shoots Spike a quick smile and then glances around the bar. If Hero's not here already, she'll be here any minute.
When Beth and Spike come in from the House of Arch, she's got a hell of a lot more on her than she ever has for her trips out with him, but none of those trips ever involved a baby. And all of those trips were to places where she could easily buy anything she forgot and needed mid-trip.
Her small backpack's been stuffed with everything it can possibly fit (and then some), and even more has been crammed into the flowery bag holding all the baby's things. And Junior, dressed in preparation for chilly weather and seemingly fascinated by her new vantage point, is securely strapped to her back.
Her cap's on, her sunglasses are on, her hair's pulled back, and her hand... is clasped tightly in Spike's.
The life Yorick's leading out there is no life for Spike, but just this one time, she has to firmly remind herself that she would never want that for him. It's a wonder Yorick's still alive -- if he is -- and she won't take the risk with Spike. It's a proven fact that any remnants of the plague that could be in the air wouldn't hurt him, but the plague is pretty fucking far from the only danger for him. Spike can take better care of himself than Yorick, no question, but Spike would be a fuck of a lot harder to miss.
She just couldn't take him.
Sliding her sunglasses down her nose a little, she shoots Spike a quick smile and then glances around the bar. If Hero's not here already, she'll be here any minute.
(no subject)
Jan. 22nd, 2007 05:34 pmno-real-hero.livejournal.comWell, shit. Even though in the back of her mind there's been this thought, this idea, that things would be different here, she never expected that Beth and Beth Junior and Spike just wouldn't... be around. Not in their room, not in the one she used here last time, not in the bar, not out by the lake, not in the goddamn greenhouse, not in the stables, and not in the woods (although she did hear things in the underbrush, but that didn't scare her). They're just not anywhere, and she figures that's that: they're gone. Just gone, not that they had made any promise to be here just in case she ever trotted her lean mean ass back into the place.
It's a shitty feeling, though. Makes her kinda sad, because Beth... Beth's her friend. And Beth Junior is her niece: they're family, and she doesn't have much of that any more. Just Yorick and Mom, and the world's such a goddamn mess, who knows when she'll ever get back to DC to see Mommy again anyway?
Hero sets the backpack down right next to her chair: Quinn's awfully sweet but she doesn't want to leave her pack in his room where she might not be able to get to it if she needs it. It's been a lot of years of having to be ready to spring into action at a moment's notice and that habit isn't going to go away overnight, no matter how warm and seductive his arms are. He's going to have to go back and slay dragons -- literally -- and she's going to have to deliver her package. And it's gonna have to happen soon.
"Shit." Stretching out, she rests her feet on the chair across the table, the heel of one boot resting on the toe of the other. For as long as she can, she's going to soak up the atmosphere of this place. It's not like anywhere else in the whole goddamn world, that's for shittin' sure, and she wants to remember every minute she gets to spend here. Because if her family isn't here and Quinn's leaving, there's no selfless reason to stay. It'd only be to satisfy her own stupid ego, and that would be at the expense of everyone else out there counting on her.
She just can't do that. She can't be that selfish.
It's a shitty feeling, though. Makes her kinda sad, because Beth... Beth's her friend. And Beth Junior is her niece: they're family, and she doesn't have much of that any more. Just Yorick and Mom, and the world's such a goddamn mess, who knows when she'll ever get back to DC to see Mommy again anyway?
Hero sets the backpack down right next to her chair: Quinn's awfully sweet but she doesn't want to leave her pack in his room where she might not be able to get to it if she needs it. It's been a lot of years of having to be ready to spring into action at a moment's notice and that habit isn't going to go away overnight, no matter how warm and seductive his arms are. He's going to have to go back and slay dragons -- literally -- and she's going to have to deliver her package. And it's gonna have to happen soon.
"Shit." Stretching out, she rests her feet on the chair across the table, the heel of one boot resting on the toe of the other. For as long as she can, she's going to soak up the atmosphere of this place. It's not like anywhere else in the whole goddamn world, that's for shittin' sure, and she wants to remember every minute she gets to spend here. Because if her family isn't here and Quinn's leaving, there's no selfless reason to stay. It'd only be to satisfy her own stupid ego, and that would be at the expense of everyone else out there counting on her.
She just can't do that. She can't be that selfish.
(no subject)
Jan. 15th, 2007 10:18 pmjack_f_twistIt's been kinda a long time.
Could be Jack Twist has just been busy with work on the ranch; even those run by women as inimitable as Sallie Reynolds need all the hands they can get. Could be he's just lain low the times he's been back here. Could be he just doesn't want to see that damn front door keep opening and shutting on folks he's never met before, or even those he has.
Could be.
But hell, what's it matter? He's here now, just like he never left, beat-up black Resistol tipped back on his dark hair and one boot up on the table in front of the fire. He's even smoking the same damn brand of cigarettes he always has. The boots ain't as worn as they'd once been, but that's more a tribute to Sallie--who'd thrown away his old ones without so much as a warning--than to Jack.
And that's just about all there is. All those "could be's" don't matter a good goddam. It is what it is, and it ain't so bad. Not with the fire, and the couch, and the smokes and his drink. Not with some company, should some choose to come along.
Hell, last time he'd been here, there'd been that one fella with the magic tricks. And hadn't that been something?
Could be Jack Twist has just been busy with work on the ranch; even those run by women as inimitable as Sallie Reynolds need all the hands they can get. Could be he's just lain low the times he's been back here. Could be he just doesn't want to see that damn front door keep opening and shutting on folks he's never met before, or even those he has.
Could be.
But hell, what's it matter? He's here now, just like he never left, beat-up black Resistol tipped back on his dark hair and one boot up on the table in front of the fire. He's even smoking the same damn brand of cigarettes he always has. The boots ain't as worn as they'd once been, but that's more a tribute to Sallie--who'd thrown away his old ones without so much as a warning--than to Jack.
And that's just about all there is. All those "could be's" don't matter a good goddam. It is what it is, and it ain't so bad. Not with the fire, and the couch, and the smokes and his drink. Not with some company, should some choose to come along.
Hell, last time he'd been here, there'd been that one fella with the magic tricks. And hadn't that been something?
