themumblybee asked: Carolina loses York at the mall
It only took her two seconds to notice that York was no longer telling her about the glorious history of the vintage coffee press, but two seconds was enough for him to already be gone in the mass of shoppers behind them.
“Excuse me,” she said, approaching a couple with a small child eating a cookie as big as her face. “Have you seen a man go by here, wearing a gold tshirt and a scar across his eye?” Carolina motioned with her hands at the size of York as the family took a collective small step away from her as her knives glinted in the light from around her belt. “He’s about this tall and he was probably talking about coffee.”
“No, sorry,” the mom said and hurriedly pulled her daughter into the nearest store.
Frowning slightly, Carolina made her way across the sea of people to the information desk. “Do you do announcements?”
“Announcements?” the teenager across the counter said, at first lazily and then upon another look over at the woman standing in front of him, standing up a little straighter. “What do you mean, ma’am?”
“You know, like a lost kid.”
“You lost your kid?” He looked at Carolina, teal tanktop accenting the way every muscle on her shoulder clearly popped out, the obvious weapons hanging from her belt and also probably in one of her deep and practical pockets. “Did they escape their leash?”
last night i dreamed that scientists used a really bad picture of me to prove humans are closely related to goats and i was so insulted i woke up
RvB: Visiting Hour
From completelysane: Prompt: CT appears to Wash while he’s in jail in Recollection. Could be a daydream/hallucination, or an AU where she’s working for the Oversight Committee, or something else.
“Connie,” Wash says through closed eyes. The door closes with a hiss and the intruder speaks.
“How did you know?” she says, and her voice is deeper than he thought it would be.
“I know how you walk.”
“You haven’t heard me walk in years, Wash.”
He opens his eyes enough to grin at her and tap the side of his head with his right pointer finger, hitting right above two surgically precise scars. “Like a steel trap.”
Her hair was long and pulled back into a tight bun at the crown of her head. Her left cheek had a scar on it across the cheekbone, and her right hand had a bruise across her knuckles, like she threw a badly aimed punch. She looked at him with a small frown and an ancient challenge glowing in her eyes.
“Are you real?” Wash says, and he sits up on his small cot, leaning forward and rubbing the palms of his hands together.
RvB: Good Intentions
Prompt by Nem: Carolina-Meta faces off against York
“Carolina?” he says, and you hear a taunt instead.
“Agent Carolina, this might be our opportunity to add the AI Delta to our program,” Sigma’s voice rings out in the cavern of your mind, hollowed out until all you can think of is the crackle of fire. You focus your vision on the golden armor.
“York,” you say, not welcoming. His shoulders droop half an inch and his right foot sweeps out wider by two inches, his head dips down until all you can see is the reflection of the visor.
“Carolina,” he repeats, and you hear the tenderness this time, and just as easily you forget it. Delta materializes next to York’s head and you see Sigma show himself as well, immediately, traveling in a trail of digital fire to stand next to the logic unit, and you remember nights before the AI and the scoreboard and you remember how he says your name.
“I don’t want to hurt you, York,” you confess.
“Then don’t,” he says, and for a moment it feels that easy.
“Of course, we do not wish to harm any freelancers, Agent Carolina,” Sigma corrects, easily, in your ear. “It is not about harming them, it is about ensuring their safety.”
“Mind your own business, Sigma,” York snarls.
“Don’t talk to him…me like that,” you growl back, and for a moment you feel a little like Maine. “I need Delta.”
“I need Delta.” He takes a hand to the back of his helmet, like he could rub his hair through the metal, and you want to walk over and throw the helmet on the ground and see if his hair is still awkwardly stiff with gel or if that’s a luxury he can’t afford on the run.
“You stole equipment,” you say and the words cut like the knife in your hand because he winces, you’re not sure how you know, but you know. Some things are just burned into your memory, but not burned, not like that.
“Carolina,” he says, his voice harder than you’ve ever heard it yet still not hard enough, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” you say, but you’re already charging forward.
courtedbydeath asked: I'm sure you've gotten more than one or two messages about this already but is the news about a dramatization of "Good Omens" on BBC Radio 4 true? Forgive my skepticism or if it comes off as rude but there have been way too many false announcements and talk of it in passing for me not to ask.
It’s true. Here’s the press release: http://www.bbc.co.uk/mediacentre/latestnews/2014/r4-good-omens