Nov. 5th, 2013

waiting: (the gun from my hands and i'm)
[personal profile] waiting
[ Bradbury doesn't use the Network as much as he should, and the last few times he's had to, he's usually all business. He doesn't start talking immediately, corners of his mouth turning up and down like he's incapable of deciding whether he wants to try for a smile or a frown. Instead, he settles for a tired grimace. ]

You know, I always thought the whole idea behind making a back-up plan in case you ever get Ported out was to make things easier for the people you left behind -- not make it more complicated.

For those who haven't noticed yet, John Watson and Sherlock have both been ported out of the City. [ A beat. ] It looks like Sherlock was working on something pretty big before he left. Apparently he got ahold of someone who was willing to swear that there were Skrulls in the British Parliament -- among other things. The rabbit hole goes pretty damn deep.

[ He waves a print out that looks like it's been marked over with a own several times, shaking his head. ]

I don't know what Sherlock was planning to do with all this, but he thought it was important enough to leave behind to someone -- but I'll say it straight up, international politics and all this superhero stuff ain't really my area of expertise. So here's the deal: if you wanna know what it says, and you can promise me you're trying to work on a way to kick Vulcanus in the balls? Call me.

[ After that ringing endorsement, there's another pause, this time of the more "what the fuck do I say now" variety, but before it can extend for long, he's interrupted by a sharp bark and two blurs of fur -- one white, one much darker -- streaking into view. Terror, Bradbury's terrier, is a familiar sight from his last unfortunate video feed, but the new arrival is much larger.

Keen eyes will notice it is, in fact, not a dog but a direwolf. Not that it seems to matter as both of them promptly attempt to climb all over Bradbury, apparently deciding he's been paying far too much attention to his communicator and not enough to them. Bradbury groans in exasperation, trying to shove both canines off him as he fumbles to turn off the feed. ]


[ private to kate kane ] )

§ 062.

Nov. 5th, 2013 01:10 pm
symmachy: zerosugar @ ij (ancient.)
[personal profile] symmachy
[she can't show her face, still streaked with her own dried bloody tears, so the voice function will have to do.

it's been days, and she still isn't sure she can do this. she can't feel, not really, but that doesn't mean she's ignorant of the pain she should be feeling. and that is what had gotten to her: that she could not properly mourn. not in the human way, at least. it tears her apart in a way she can barely conceal.

her voice is steady, even if it shouldn't be.]

Jack Bauer is dead.

[he should have had a great funeral, with a pyre burning into the darkest hours of the night. but he had been left in that stupid alternate world. if she had been there, she could have saved him. instead, he had died.

it was cu chulainn all over again.]

Something tells me he will not be coming back to this plane.


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