central_librarylogs | The 9th Hour... (Phase 1: Sept-Oct Event)

Entry tags:

The 9th Hour... (Phase 1: Sept-Oct Event)

The cold presence is seeping in through the dark shadows. The darkness is reaching further, brushing the minds of the patrons and opening doors to dimensions that should not be open. Something wants in. But in the Central Library, there are ways to get through without crossing entirely… through your dreams. Among other things.

Pick one of the options below and make a post for other patrons to join you in the events. You may make up your own, but keep it matching the event at hand as the different phases of the event will progressively get worse.

1. Your dreams are getting dangerous, violent even. When you wake up, there are bruises and injuries that shouldn’t be there. What is going on? Why are your dreams becoming a reality little by little? And why is it getting so hard to wake up?

2. Things are shifting in the Library. The shadows are moving and the temperatures are starting to drop. There are cold spots that sometimes get colder and sometimes it feels like if you turn around, you’ll find someone right behind you.

3. The monsters are looking a bit more frantic and daring to come closer to the center of the Library where they normally will not tread. It seems you aren’t the only ones scared of the dark recesses any longer.

4. The Market is now a lovely little faire of the early Renaissance with all sorts of fresh grain, fruits and vegetables! It is a brilliant sight, but it seems the ominous plague masks they don still gives a foreboding feeling of the miasma that killed over two-thirds of the world’s population… Perhaps you shouldn’t wander very far.

5. New areas are now opened up. A blacksmith and workshop for the tinkers has been created. You might want to look or contribute... You might also want to stop in the new bath area. The large pool has a Grecian feel and all of the walls are made of crystalline glass where the stars are always shining with a different universe in constant succession.

6. Wild Card: Make up your own scenario. Just remember that all of the things above are happening. Things are getting foreboding and growing stronger by the day. Sleep will be a luxury you might not have… You may not see what’s coming, not yet. But you know it’s coming.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It has been almost nine hundred and sixty years since their mother was taken. Nine hundred and sixty since she Sailed, unable to find rest or healing, even with their father's formidable skills, or their grandmother's power. Nine hundred and fifty nine years since Elladan and Elrohir were too late. But the nightmares still happen with distressing regularity.

He remembers the smell, first. Rank and foul, the smell of disease and filth, of blood and vomit and tears. He remembers the broken, shattered figure that flinched away from them, the bruises, welts and sores that littered every part of her, the ragged scrap that did not in the slightest resemble the lovely dresses she loved so, the filthy chunks of hair and the gouges in her skull where she or they had pulled it out. The way she was left amidst the bodies of her companions and guards. He remembers the way she screamed when they touched her, the way her eyes were wild and unseeing, the way she could not even recognise them. He remembers the blank numbness that settled over him, the boiling fury too great to process. He remembers hate.

Elladan jerks awake with a breathless gasp, his mother's accusing eyes searing into his own, her bitter voiced accusations ringing in the air.

Why didn't you save me?

Logically, he knows she never said that. But he asks it of himself, all the same. Gasping he pulls himself upright and draws into himself with a shudder, wrapping his arms around his legs and hiding his face from the tears.

Edited 2015-09-22 07:05 (UTC)

Kara had nightmares often enough as it was, but when she woke up she didn't wake with phantom pains. Not normally at least. Sometimes her face would itch or feel hot where she had been burned. Sometimes her belly would feel cold where the gun pressed to her belly, pointed up and fired three times.

Sometimes it was simple things, but the feeling was still there, a memory pain, most likely.

They were never that bad though. Never bad enough to be a visible pain. Not like this time.

She dreamed about a fight she had with her other face. No, with Agent May, while she wore her face. The first time she woke up she felt as if she had been kicked, like she had just been IN a fight.

The second time she woke up from a dream it had been a bit worse. Another run in with SHIELD, her one time employer and later problem. Kara woke up in her and Ward's bed, nose bleeding, lip swollen and purple, eye around the scarred eye was blackened and bruised.

Grant might feel her stir and suddenly roll out of bed, hand over her nose and face to cover the blood. She hauled on a long shirt and took off for a place to clean up, looking for water and a wash cloth.

To those who are not Grant or currently sleeping with her (aka: Anyone Not Ward), they might find her later in the Library, her scarred face a bit dour as she hit it under a hood of a sweater. Kara was one to hide her face more when she was out and alone, though after the Bambi issues, she had grown more comfortable to sport the scars. Which is to say that the black and blue face was bothering her now.

If anyone makes one comment on her fiancee beating her she might step strongly on the top of their foot. She just woke up this way, okay?

In truth, after talking to Grant and assuring him she was alright, she went out to see if she could catch the Librarian again. She hadn't seen him in a bit and was curious about something. Though she would be willing to talk to anyone. In her wandering she's noticed a few things. Creatures coming closer to the center of the library, as well as a bath house? Clearly something was changing...

Bucky... not the Asset. Not anymore. He was mentally picking up on what Rogers had called him, Bucky. Bucky was not much of a sleeper anyhow. He'd done too much of that off and on for decades and if he could manage with naps here and there, he would. His naps however were restless and he felt like figures were standing in the shadows of his mind, so he didn't really bother to sleep much. Not right yet.

Instead he patrolled round the edge of the center of the Library, deciding he wanted to take care of some things, clean up monster problems, if they were there to deal with. The normal things.

Only, he hadn't gotten very far when he had to stop, turning to look around behind him. It felt as someone just passed there. A figure or something. Like they were coming out of his dreams and into reality.

His eye twitched as something came to mind. memory perhaps? Figures standing over him. At first he thought it was the cold storage chamber, which he remembered much better now, and he didn't want to. He thought it might have been medical things, doctors, the chair. That dreaded chair.

But this was different. His memory was simple. A look up at the sky, a figure leaning over him. A hand offered down to him. Someone offering him a lift up. Bucky stood still a moment, confused, thinking, trying to grab the memory and keep it. There had to be something there. No... it wasn't a hand offered down to him, but a fight coming down on him. at that moment his hands balled up, ready to fight.

He turned, looking around this section of the library, hearing something snicker as it ran past. Not a shadowy figure this time. His eyes stayed sharp as he tried to recall the memory still. His arm came up, blocking the hits. A blond kid came diving into the fight, scrawny but angry looking. Rogers? ... Steve.

He grunted, turning around in annoyance. He swore something was standing behind him, but there was nothing there. The figure wasn't hovering over him anymore. the boy was scrambling to get to his feet, to take chase. Bucky... he stood swiftly, throwing an arm around the smaller kid and hauling him back. Bucky remembered he yelled something at the retreating kids back, and told... told the scrawny kids off for something. He told him... told him...

Damn. Turning he pulled one of his knives and flung it, hitting a short monster like figure in the chest. A goblin, maybe? He'd ran into a lot of them before, but they were never this close to the center of the library.

"What the hell is going on..." He said as he yanked the knife out of the fictional monster. It would be gone by tomorrow. Where there more of the little ankle biters? He felt like figures were hovering around him.

The fact that it was at least fifteen degrees colder in this spot didn't even hit him. Not yet at least. He noticed it but it didn't really hit him yet.

Clara took every chance she could to explore the Market, especially when the place changed locations in time and history or fiction. What ever it was, it was interesting to say the least.

The Renaissance was always interesting to her though, and all she wished was that she had the TARDIS here for a clothing swap. Still, if it was one thing she DID learn about the older eras, it was that most of the time they barely noticed when you dressed oddly.

She had picked up a basket of fruits and veggies, wanting to take them back, clean them up and offer them to anyone interested. It would keep her mind off the empty feeling she woke up with that morning, at least.

Only as she wandered she saw several Plague Doctors walking around, their masks seeming much more... well, frightening then she thought they were in history books. "Interesting..." She said quizzically, starting to wander after one she saw, following him for a ways. Sure, she might find herself some trouble, but what can that hurt, right?

There's no wounds (not yet, not at least in this case) but there's a mild burning along his forearms and he dreams of slamming into walls and screaming in pain before he shoots awake to realize that there's nothing there - and no one there.

Here, the emotions he's kept bottled up inside since her death are free again. Here people aren't looking at him like he's a monster. Skye's judgement means nothing, SHIELD can't hurt him - them anymore.

Or can they?

Feeling vunerable and alone with the burning along his wrists growing hotter and colder by turns he focuses on the missing figure in his bed. Kara.

But when he sees the blood and the bruise the kind and gentle Ward, the lost figure dissolves and the walls slam up fast. Something coils in his throat and burns, it burns hard and worse. Betrayal. Of course. It was all too good to be true. It's some SHIELD trick (hail hydra), it's some game of Coulson's-

Except it's not.

He ignores any further thoughts by taking her in his arms as gently as he can then quickly pulling back to look at her face and gently, gently touch each wound.

"Who did this to you?"

The HYDRA leader is swimming underneath the surface. It's hard to suppress him, "...Kara?"

She had just barely gotten out of bed, to a water basin set up in their room, soaking a cloth and trying to clean her face as best as she could like this. When Ward was behind her like that, making her face him and look at him, she frowned, looking him in the face. He looked upset.

He looked murderous in his eyes. Like he was able to drop everything and kill someone. There was still concern though, but the look gave her a chill. She knew that look. She shared it before.

At his words though she shook her head, one hand coming to cup over his, the other bringing the cloth to her nose again. "No one, baby. I'm all right. I just... I woke up this way."

She said it truthfully, though confused as well. It took a lot to push herself to wake up too, but she had managed. "I swear, love." She winced a bit as his fingers graced the edge of the black and blue lip. "I'm not sure what happened. I feel like I was in a fight again..."

"You didn't leave me. there was no one else in our room."

Had he done this.

Oh god somehow, in his sleep...was it his imagination or did his arms burn again? The lost look returned to his gaze before he buried it and swallowed hard. No, no never.

"...I-

I'll get towels and some water what were you - what's the last thing you remember?"

His sentences and talking it out made her eyes narrow a bit. She knew that line of thinking. Or at least she was sure she knew where he was going with that. If there was no one in the room to hurt her it must be him, huh?

She shook her head at him, reaching a hand out to grab hold of his wrist, so he didn't take off on her just then.

"I have water, and a cloth. I'm fine, Grant. Please..." She said softly, moving closer to him again, reaching up to touch his cheek softly. "I just had a bad dream. Maybe I hit myself is all. I was... fighting Agent May again. I don't know. It's fine. I think I did it myself..."

He twitches, "Hit yourself in the eye?"

Agent May. His eyes narrow and his hands clench at his sides. Of course not.

"She can't hurt you here anymore." It's hard to follow but she says she dreamed it. His hands hesitate before he reaches for hers and kisses her fingers.

"She can't hurt you here. No one can." except me, "It's natural to go through this but to get this sort of...stigmata?"

He shakes his head.

She frowns at him as he seems upset by this. She's not upset, just unsure. Confused. But now she wanted to make sure he kept level about it all.

As he kissed her fingers she gave him a faint smile, pulling his hand down to her lips to return the soft kiss to his own hand.

"Please don't worry, Grant. It was just a bad dream. I've had a lot of those in the past. It happens. Just give me some time to figure out what happened, okay?" AKA: Don't do anything we'll regret later, please.

"I love you for worrying, but I'm fine."

"I know. I get it, I just-" He shakes his head, "It's like - you spend so long trying to attack that when something happens..."

Still. Something was up. His hackles were on alert.

"...I wish we had a dog."

She dabbed at her nose, finding the blood had stopped. Her lip was puffy and eye sore still, but not bad. Sitting the cloth to the bowl of water she rubbed the palm off on her hip.

"We can see about getting a dog. Maybe one of the Librarians will know of something. If that will make you feel better. I wanted to talk to the Head Librarian again anyhow." she said with a small shrug, leaning into him and tilting her head into his shoulder.

"I'm fine though. Just a bad dream. Let's go back to sleep, hmm? If only for a bit. Maybe we can go monster hunting later, if that will make you feel better."

Nightmares weren't something new to Sebastian. He'd had them most of his life. The insecurities of reality seeping into his unconscious mind and recreating his greatest fears in varied and sometimes terrifying forms. They were only part of the reason he rarely slept through the night. Even more frightening than nightmares he had no control over were the racing thoughts he had no control over.

But here he had found some solace hidden amongst the books. The safe ones he didn't have to be afraid of opening. He'd also discovered birds again. Randomly and suddenly appearing whenever he was lost in thought or reading. They seemed just as curious about him as he was about them. They were one of his passions and he'd learned the common and scientific names of so many. But there were no birds to distract him as he made his way to what he hoped would be a great distraction from nightmares.

His father had pressured him so much about joining a sport he had found the one sport he hoped would make them both happy. Swimming was another passion he'd discovered in highschool. Like Jack.

Sebastian turned away from those thoughts and peered past the shelves of books, breath held in his chest for a moment, so sure he had heard or felt something. But when nothing else happened he quickly made his way to the new bath area.

Nightmares he new. But the feeling of not being able to wake up, tormented by the past, by regrets, by the loss and humiliation, and then finding the physical manifestations still marking his body had left him too shaken to simply lose himself in a good story. Soaking in the solace of a bath was something he really missed. And if it really was large enough to swim in he'd be even happier.

What he found was even better. Almost enough to make the nightmares feel distant and fading, unlike the cut bisecting his right eyebrow or the bruise on his cheek courtesy of his highschool bully. There were others. But all Sebastian could focus on were the beautiful stars.

And whether or not he should risk being naked or wear his boxer-briefs as he was removing his clothes.

It wasn't easy to get time alone. Steve made sure to keep an eye on his team and then there was everything with Tony. There was someone always around, something that after feeling isolated after the ice, Steve appreciated but sometimes he needed to go out alone. He usually said he was going out patrolling or to scout new areas of the Library but most of the time it was to try to make himself available if Bucky wanted to talk to him.

Most of the time he wanted to search for his friend, but he knew that while Bucky was still piecing together his memories, pushing wouldn't work. Bucky had to decide how to deal with what had happened and with what parts of the past he remembered.

As he entered the area, he caught familiar movement... and something else. Two small figures. Staring at them, Steve tried to understand what he saw. The taller one looked just like... "Bucky?"

The figures disappeared and he saw Bucky - one the correct age - throw the knife. Pulling his shield from its harness, Steve jogged over to Bucky, scanning the area for more of the monsters. Then the cold hit him, causing him to shudder. "Did you just see... us?"

He heard his name, causing him to turn to the sound, eyes narrowed and waiting to see what else was going to sneak around him. He wasn't liking what was going on, and it didn't quite make sense to him.

But instead he saw the wide shouldered blond jogging over to him as he looked through the area. Bucky slide the knife back into it's place, frowning sternly at the other. See... us?

That was all in his head though, wasn't it? A memory. A full memory, for a change, and not one that jumped around a lot. Him in a fight, because of the smaller blond kid. Him having to stop the kid. Calling him something. Wasn't that all in his head? Something had triggered a memory, was all, was it?

He looked unsure, rubbing his flesh hand over the back of his neck. "Not sure if I saw it, but... I think I got hit with another memory." He's talking. Talking and not clamming up on the man. It's a good start, right?

1.--Nightmares

Alright! This dream had started out great, and Casey'd gotten used to making himself comfy in odd situations given the invasion, aftermath, and his vigilante'ing. Not that his dreams were usually as vivid as his life had been, all things considered.

A hockey-puck with fire-cracker tied to it went flying with a loud crack, fuse sizzling. Followed by another, and another, as Casey aimed smirked behind his hockey-mask at the swarm of foot-bots. "Hah!" Mocking in the tone, higher pitched before he lowered-his voice dramatically. "Evil Robo-ninjas, round 2! You guys haven't got a chance..."

A combination of the explosive pucks, and his usual manic fighting style with his hockey-stick and baseball bat, and Casey was enjoying this dream. The adrenaline rush, the fight, the fact that he was winning... Best of all? Proving he was doing what he was meant to do!

Hockey-stick over his shoulder, satisfied smirk at the pile of robot-pieces, and the teenager was turning to move on through the sewers on his way to the lair. A sucker-punch from the shadows, catching him harshly on the cheek and he went flying. Hitting the wall behind him, as that had hurt, stick torn from his grasp. His vision swam for a bit as eyes scanned his surroundings. Drawing his baseball bat and getting shakily to his feet.

The sewers had darkened, where before it had felt brighter, and Casey didn't see anything at first. Until a shape resolved itself, faint outline reminiscent, with ears and posture alert, whiskers twitching. Eyes opening, white in the darkness, followed a moment more by four more pairs of eyes in silhouette.

"Master Splinter..." Casey breathed, dropping the tense posture. Whoever'd sucker punched him was in trouble now... "Everything alright?" Asking as the tall humanoid-rat-mutant clad in dark red-kimono stepped further out of the shadows. Red-brown eyes narrowed, displeasure clear in the figure.

"Go Away."

Casey's eyes widened. Huh? Echoing his confusion, before the ninja master clarified. "You are no longer welcome." Snarled out, as Casey backed up against the wall as Splinter advanced towards him. Out from the shadows, the other owners of the eyes resolved into 4 humanoid-turtles wearing different colored masks around their eyes, bearing padding on their bodies at various point. Casey tried to peek around, looking for support, trying to make sense of things.

The one in orange, Mikey just shook his head sadly and turned away. Leo, in blue, simply closed his eyes and looked resigned. Donnie smirked in a very unfriendly way, ties of his purple mask shifting with his head almost mockingly. Raph, Casey's best friend of the 4, the one he'd fought with, related to, was glaring murder at him. That hurt, and Casey's eyes widened more. Biting his lip under his Hockey-mask, then flipping it up as his attention was given to Splinter.

"I don't understand, Master Splinter, Raph..." A snarl from the turtle in red, menacing and angrier than Casey'd ever heard. "Yame!" Splinter responded sharply in Japanese, eyes narrowing and spearing Casey where he was trapped. Seemingly taller than ever, and Casey felt a twinge of his phobia. "You are done." Finality to the tone, and the humanoid-rat lunged at Casey, as he threw up his hands in futile-protection."

Casey woke up with a start, bolting up and then twisting, almost falling out of his bed. That wasn't how his dreams usually went. Not even his nightmares were like that, usually. Reaching up to scrub his hand down his face, and wincing. "Ow...what the?" Hesitantly probing at his face, and he could feel a bruise where he'd been punched in the dream. What the heck?"

Sleep was definitely not happening again, so he might as well go exploring. Maybe some skating would clear his head. Carefully, as his body ached in a way it hadn't since he'd first met and fought with Raphael before they'd been friends, he dressed in his vigilante gear. Hockey-mask up, roller-blades down, and moving through the halls as he tried to forget the weird nightmare.

2.Things in the dark

One thing that Casey was definitely enjoying was all the space and epic hallways to skate in. Almost as good as the rooftops of New York, and without his chance of falling off. It'd be even better if Mikey were around, and Casey kind of wished for him or Raph to be there. Especially after the dream he'd had.

Skidding around a corner and rebounding off a wall as he kept going, a Woohoo! echoing with him as he flipped over a desk, landing with a clatter but on his feet. Then something caught his eye, and he turned, skidding to a stop. Turning around fully, and carefully heading towards the corner he'd seen something move. Pulling out his baseball bat, and poking in the shadow--nothing there.

Odd, and a flash of red, with a paddle tail moving, caught his eye again. Whipping around behind him, bat held ready. "Last time I met you things, you got your butt kicked." Well, ok--the dream beavers had been the size of small plush toys. But they'd left for another dimension anyways! What the hell would they be doing here in the giant Library?

Even in the Library, Alec is more nocturnal than most people. Years spent hunting skewed his internal clock toward staying up all night and early mornings. Even if day and night were relative now, 'night' was a good time for him to patrol the Library. He'd noticed the new rooms, reminding himself to visit them later.

He finished his patrol early and decided against going back to the quarters he shared with Magnus. They were set in a routine and any variation would have Magnus worrying that Alec had been hurt. And when he'd left, his boyfriend had been actually sleeping so he wasn't going risk waking him up.

The bath was too tempting to resist even if Magnus wasn't with him. Actually, it was probably good that Magnus wasn't with him. The other patrons really didn't need to walk in on that.

Finding a quiet corner, Alec stripped off his weapons and gear, setting each item down with care. He kept a sheathed dagger in his hand, just in case as he walked toward water. Better to be careful since something odd was happening in the Library.

Black marks swirled across his skin in patterns that most people wouldn't recognize. Along with the runes were similarly shaped scars and a few others that were obviously from battle. Across his chest there was a set of red, angry looking claw marks that he'd found after dreaming of Abbadon.

At least the poison hadn't been part of that strangeness since Magnus couldn't heal him right now. Yeah, no thinking about Greater Demons just in case the weird dreams escalated.

Tensing slightly when he noticed that someone was nearby, Alec smiled when he realized who it was. "I can leave if you want to be alone."

"I want you to be safe. It's not about me feeling better." He squeezes her fingers and sighs, "I want you to be happy, not...not..." hurt.

Sleep. Yes. Sleep will be ok. Sleep will be good and he nods, wrapping his arms around her for a moment before taking her hand back to their room - or what passes for it and he dreams.

He dreams about desperation.

He dreams about Skye.

You should have run faster. she says, while his chest clenches and his stomach turns over, You should have run faster. You should have but didn't. Because you're a monster. You deserve this. This pain

He slits his wrists, one long smooth line down the center and waits, waits for the blood to leak out.

You should have run faster.

"I loved you." The words are whispered, moaned, as the scars on his wrist open. They open slow, bleed slow, like a dead love, like a man with a broken heart.

"I loved you. Why did you leave me?"

Edited 2015-09-24 06:11 (UTC)

Good. Good. He agreed to just... rest. Sleep more. "I'm fine, Grant. I honestly have never felt more safe than with you here." She assured him and moved to snuggle in beside him in their bed again, resting her head to his chest to try and get over the throbbing in her face and head. Just a headache. She can get over it.

As they sleep again for a bit, she can feel the weirdness in the dreams. She can feel the hits she takes in fights sink in deep. She finds it harder to let go of the dreams, even as she feels something damp at her side, where his arm rests around her.

There is a blow to the belly that does it though, waking her up coughing a bit. Sleep is not going to happen after this. Not if it keeps doing this.

She realizes he's saying something. Loved you? Left him? Something sinks deeper in her belly at that. Worse than a dream kick. She didn't mean to leave him. She didn't want to. Reaching her hand up to touch his cheek she stilled before she got to it. The wet at her side sank into her head at that point. She glanced down to his arm, seeing the slow seep of blood.

She was sitting up suddenly. "Ward?!" There was a mild tone of panic that hit her voice. She knows about these wounds. She knows why. She knows when. He's told her that much before, while they were still getting to know each other. Learning how fucked up they each were. "Grant!" She said his name gain, turning around so she can get a good look at his wrist, realizing the other one was opened up as well.

"Grant, wake up, baby. Oh god, what the hell..." She said as she grabbed for the sheets, starting to try and rip them with her teeth and hands, ignoring the pain in her lip as she did. her other hand shaking his shoulder. "Come on, baby, wake up for me..."

He stirs.

"...Ss.S..no." The blood seeps out more, one long red line and he raises his hand to her, "No. Baby I found you. Kara, my Kara. It felt like...felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest but you're not dead. I didn't make the worst mistake of my life."

He looks ten years younger.

"...believed in me in mine when nobody else...when nobody else would or could, I -" He blinks, "...bleeding."

"I'm bleeding."

There's blood all over their sheets and he looks to her, scared, then serious, "Kara I'm bleeding."

As he stirs and wakes up she had just managed to rip a strip of the sheet, half in her mouth and in her hand. She is relieved to see him awake, and moving. That's good. Very good.

As he reaches to touch her and takes, she tries to reach for that hand, that wrist, only to watch it dawn on him that he's bleeding.

As calm as she can sound (as scared as she was). "I'm right here, love. I'm fine. It's just a dream. A nightmare. I'm right here. Let me..." She sucked in on her swollen lip and started to wrap his wrist as best as she could, as fast as she could.

It's not like it's the first injury she's ever wrapped. It's firm and stable, but if he didn't stop bleeding they'd need to do more. For now it was a pressure bandage to try to stop it.

She pressed his arm back to his chest, keeping it up a bit before going to rip a new long strip. "It'll be okay, baby. We'll take care of it. I... I don't know what happened though. I woke up and heard you and..." She sucked in a breath, ripped and moved to try to wrap the next wrist.

Her hands were shaking.

"Don't be scared." He can feel her trembling. Taking her fingers he squeezes them as best he can, which is minimal at best, "Don't be scared I'm here. and you're here. We'll keep each other safe."

He swallowed, "I thought...I thought you were skye. And she was telling me to kill myself again."

It was hard not to be scared. She didn't want to lose him now that she lost him once already because of her own death. Now that she had him here she didn't want to let him go. Fucked up HYDRA agents in need.

She felt the squeeze, but she shook her head, taking her hand out of him and taking his hand instead, stilling it as she pressed it to his chest again, as if to tell him to keep it up like she was showing him. She finished the tight pressure wrap on the other now and pushed it to his chest as well, cupping her hands over his wrists, hands still shaking but holding him to steady herself too.

"Don't you ever think that. No matter who tells you anything like that. Dreams or not. There is no reason to kill yourself." She leaned in to kiss the backs of his hands, frowning still. "We need to get this properly looked at though. I think there was a doctor in the group? Banner or something? We need to make sure you're going to be okay, baby. And I need to find the Head Librarian and find out what the fuck is going on."

Because her belly hurt, her head hurt, and he had cut wrists again . This was something new.

"...Banner? Bruce Banner?"

He freezes, "No. No. No I'm not seeing him. No." At any moment Skye could be here, Coulson could show up, he was their friend, if they knew...

He grimaces.

"...I can sew it up if you find me cat gut and a needle baby, I-" He rubs his wrists and shakes his head before wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

"....Hold me.

Please. I- I never asked anyone to do it then."

Barry hummed as he worked cleaning up the shelves and keeping an eye out of trouble., The Library seemed oddly dark lately and he'd felt like something had been following him. He nervously glanced behind him and frowned. "Hello," he called out, "is anyone there?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 14

The 9th Hour... (Phase 1: Sept-Oct Event)

1-ish

1ish... possibles for 3 or 5 is anyone is interested.

2 with some three elements...

4!

baaaaby

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1 & 2 Combo

no subject

no subject

Multiple-prompts

no subject

TW: suicide mention

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Barry Allen l The Flash l Sensing Shadow