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LL cont’

[Bad ideas. That’s what Rafael was famous for. Sometimes those bad ideas would pan out into groundbreaking technologies. Other times it would blow up spectacularly in his face - and by extension, all faces adjacent. Not that it ever stopped him from coming up with more.

This one, though. A bridge too far.

Aracha - if that really could be called his name anymore - sat, hunched over, cycling a trinket between his fingers as though in a trance. It felt like the slow, tactile motion was the only thing still keeping him grounded to reality (again, questionable). His mind was… far, far away, in a place that might not even exist anymore, lost. But more than that, alone, in a vast, empty field of deaf, silent rage. And that cold silence seeped into every crack in his brain, filling the folds of his thoughts, the hollow space in his bones, the pockets in his lungs.

He wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. None of this was real. He knew that now.

At some point, his fiance was going to walk through the door and find him sitting at the foot of ~~their~~ his bed. And one way or another, this lie would be shattered.]

MWM CONT’ (but gayer maybe)

[When Kaine stormed out of the house, he had no direction. He simply wanted to explode - so that the swirling hurricane of loss in his chest could finally erupt out of him and tear his feeble body asunder, scattering it to the winds where he’d never have to feel this pain again. Instead, he manages to knock a tree or two over, screaming with each strike before escaping into the treetops.

Somewhere high. Somewhere he won’t be found (delusional). Kaine toys with the idea of simply living up here in the trees forever - the idea of going back to the house where Adrien once was and is no longer makes him feel sick. The spectre of love, haunting him like a ghost, shadowing every cold bed and empty doorway. Its claws dig into him, and he can’t help but weep.

At least hidden in the canopies, no one can hear him. He can empty himself into the dark.]

fake it til you make it

[ Miguel can still hear the sound of the shot piercing the air. A pchoom, followed by a static-y vacuum noise, as was the signature of that particular brand of laser gun. He'd know. He oversaw the development on it, once upon a time.

They were shelved a long time ago, but he'd never forget the sound before. Now he really won't. The hairs of one side of his bangs are probably a little shorter than the other side, and there's faint reddening on his skin, the most scant of burns.

It's the third time this week. A week that's not even half over. ("Someone's an overachiever," he'd thought grumpily.)

Miguel didn't really want to spend the morning filtering through the company's database, but at this rate he's risking losing an eyebrow next, and nobody wants that.

Thousands of names show up, but he wants to be pickier. Tossing out anyone with a perfect record. Tossing out anyone with known connections to the company already. And finally, sorting based on personality; if he has to do this, he's not going to pick someone boring. Fifty names becomes thirty seven becomes six...

...and six becomes one. He tells Winston to get this man in his office before end of day by any means necessary. Send him right up. Offer him cookies. Offer him "the world". Only their company can do such a thing, after all.

Anyway, he's going to wait, fingers steepled towards the giant windows behind his desk. This was a good, cool-looking idea until he realized he doesn't know how long this will take. WHATEVER. ]

Home again, home again

[In the end, it wasn't that hard at all. One of those lanterns, like the ones Acedia had - its light could open up a portal home. Everyone made their plans, relieved to be free of the Midwestern hellhole that had kept them in its clutches for all these long days.

How strange. For once, Kaine was glad to have been proved foolish - optimism was never his strong suit, same with nursing such convenient daydreams - but now he felt unprepared for what lay ahead. A chapter was closing. What does he do with himself now?]

SAD SOULMATE AU

[So hey, Kaine is being released from prison! But first he's gotta meet his parole officer. Of course, Kaine is in a pretty high security class, so they probably assigned him some hardass who'd shove him back in prison at the drop of a hat...

But when he's brought to the meeting room, the door opens on a handsome redhead balancing his chair on two legs, hands folded behind his head. He's in uniform for now, looks pretty nice all buttoned up, but his vibes are still so casual when he brings the chair back down on all four legs and raises a hand in a wave.]

Heya!

(no subject)

[On the plus side: Flash survived Red Goblin.

But he also burned through all the Anti-Venom antibodies in his system, so he's back to having no powers, no suit, no symbiote, and no legs. It was definitely hard not to brood on this fact, but... as he often reminded himself, he'd picked himself up from rock bottom before. He could do it again. Move on with his life. Adjust to normalcy.

At least, until Venom started appearing in the news again. His partner. His friend.

He couldn't just leave it with EDDIE.

Maybe Flash couldn't feel its presence anymore, but there was always old fashioned legwork (ha). After pinning down the location of every recent appearance, he'd managed to narrow down Eddie's main area of operations. Big guy like that, had to have left an impression in the neighbourhood. Not to mention, not a lot of people lease to former convicts. With some asking around, Flash's search eventually bore fruit.

The whole time, he'd been hyping himself up for a confrontation. Imagine his surprise, finding Eddie now...]