❱ ten。[ visual; location: tamper and trick ]

[skort]

Kara flicks the visual feed on her tablet as she's reorganizing a shelf in the store. It's not much, just moving things up the shelf a little so customers don't have to reach so far back to grab them, but it's something to do when things are a little slow.

"I have a question for my fellow captives," she says, and pauses to turn something around. "Where's the best place in town to either get a slice of cake or a good cake mix? Preferably chocolate, but I'm definitely up for suggestions." She throws a glance and a smile to the tablet attached to her wrist before going back to her organizing.

"And thanks in advance for any responses. This isn't something that's vitally important, but it is something kind of special." The expression on Kara's face gets a little melancholy for a moment before she reaches over and flicks the feed off. No need to continue it and have people watch her work aimlessly. She can always turn it back on if/when she gets a reply.

07: Don't talk much, reveal nothing [location: Taxon at large!]

[riddler-gump.livejournal.com]

The longer time spent in Taxon, the more the Gump feels as though he has been remiss in his duties. True, he has no hold over Taxon at large, apart from his sorry excuse of an approximated sliver of home. But that never stopped him from venturing out before. Never would he in his youth have allowed for boundaries to be laid down without his explicit consent.

No one shackles the Gump.

No one imposes limits upon him.



For some time now, a black rainbow has been spreading in his mind, sending his memories and thoughts down a dark and dreary goose chase for a pot of gold that only Brown Tom ever knew how to find.

Brown Tom. Now, there's one who knew how to make merry with tricks. The jovial leprechaun, so generous to all who deserved it, knew better than most faerie folk how to lure the hearts of witless mortals into traps. 'Shiny, Gump', he'd tell him. 'All you need is something shiny to send them a'runnin' to the end of the world. All you need for good trickery is leverage, and greed is the best one of the lot of 'em'. Perhaps. But the Gump had always preferred other lures. Not necessarily better, but different ones.

Lately, the Gump has let a veil of apathy fall before his eyes, but no more. Was he not named for his sweet yet prickly ways? Does he not have a reputation to maintain? Are there really no mortals around who'd fancy a jig or two?


He runs into the city proper to look for leverage, wherever he may find it.

001 ━ [ holo ] / [ location: the sanctuary ].

[virtued.livejournal.com]

The couch could be uncomfortable, but not quite like this. Stefan shifted, rolling over as he flipped onto his stomach in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position, expecting to hear the thud of the open book that had been lying on his thigh as it fell to the floor. However, there was no sound and more importantly, instead of feeling the cushions beneath his arms and the part of his face that wasn't pillowed against them, he felt cold...steel?

Instantly, he was awake, on his knees perhaps a bit quicker than one should be able to transition from lying down to sitting up. "What the..." Brow furrowed in confusion, Stefan rose to his feet - slowly, this time, a much more 'normal' pace (careful, cautious - just in case) - and took a good look around the room. This wasn't the cellar, nor was it the tomb. Didn't mean the usual wasn't responsible.

"Damon?" He called out, expecting to hear a laugh and some sort of mocking statement to follow it up. "Come on, Damon. This isn't funny. You've had your fun, now let me out."

Nothing.

Stefan huffed. "Really? You're going to do this now? Damon, this is not the time for your games. Look, I get it. You're hurt, you're upset and you're pissed at me for stopping you." From staking Caroline, but that goes unsaid. Still careful. Just in case. Stefan's not stupid. "This isn't the way to go about getting back at me, especially with--"

Stefan stopped, abruptly, looking over the room once more. ...he really wouldn't put it past her.

"Katherine?"

ONE; HOLO [ waiting for our ship to come, but our ship's not coming back ]

[deniedthesight.livejournal.com]

The past few days have not been the easiest time in Angela Dodson's life, and today had actually started out as an exception. It had remained an exception until the meeting on the rooftop with John, where he'd given her the Spear of Destiny and asked her to hide it. She wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having it in her possession - not only was the object incredibly powerful and potentially dangerous, but it had nearly been used to sacrifice her and bring the son of the Devil into the world - but the idea of the spearhead being kept somewhere so close was somehow worse than holding onto it for a few days. So she'd agreed, taking the spear with her off the rooftop, intent on going back home and getting the first decent night's sleep she'd be having in nearly a week and planning where to hide it first thing in the morning. Maybe she'd even have a bath (because while she was wary of the idea of going anywhere near a pool again, a steaming hot bubble bath still somehow sounded appealing).

Only she doesn't get to do any of this, because as she steps through the doorway of the stairwell that leads to the roof of the building, she finds herself in a large, metallic chamber.

Angela looks around a moment or two, the expression on her face one of utter disbelief before it shifts into one of irritation. She re-wraps the spearhead carefully before tucking it away into her purse (looking a little bit relieved that she's not touching it anymore), bringing out her phone in its place as she reaches behind her back to pull her gun out of its hidden holster. (She knows by now that it won't help much against a demon attack, but she feels safer having this than nothing.)

"This is unbelievable," she mutters to herself before hitting the 'send' button on her phone - she's not sure what John could do to help or how she's going to describe what's just happened, but he's the only one she can think of to call who might know what's going on. It doesn't really matter anyway, since there's not even a dial tone to be heard. She pulls the phone away from her face, frowning deeper before shoving it back into her purse and cocking her gun.

"LAPD. Whoever's behind this, show yourselves, now."

There's no answer. Not even a hint that anyone is around, and more than that, it doesn't look as if anyone has been around, at least not recently. She's not getting a reading on who her captors may be, just other people like her - confused and trapped.

She huffs, frustrated, and then spots something out of the corner of her eye - the tablet, set atop a pedestal. She leans in closer, getting a good look at the screen and what its functions are, but doesn't touch it or pick it up. Until she sees the light that indicates that it's recording, and then she does pick it up, giving it a wary look before she attempts speaking into it.

"Hello?" she tries, not sure whether or not she's expecting an answer (and if she is, who or what she expects is on the other end of the line). "Not that I don't appreciate the vacation," (well, she doesn't, but that's beside the point), "but I'd have preferred to plan it myself. Whatever or whoever you are, I want to be sent back, and failing that, I'd like to know what the hell is going on here."

She sounds more confident than she feels, but she's been well trained not to show fear, especially in situations like this. Setting the tablet back down, she sighs again, pressing her lips together before her face tightens into a bitter smile.

"At least it wasn't through walls this time."