Well I was just going to suggest we have a better system for where I store my stuff before I go out in my Flash gear so people don't accidentally move it or, in the case of Cisco, 'borrow' it without asking but now I realise it was probably just like so dumb talking to you about this cause hey, you know, you probably don't care. So yeah.
Again, not my friends. You can be as friendly as you wish with them. I actually have work that needs to be done. Work that would go much faster if you would tell me whether or not you're going to help. Then I can plan accordingly, instead of wasting my time supporting your ego.
[It's been a few weeks since Barry went home and way too much had happened since then, she could have used his help, but now things have actually settled down. National City is quiet, and roasting in the summer heat, and everyone is on edge but too tired to do anything about it, and Ms. Grant's calendar is clear, and this seems as good a time as any to sneak away and try that dimension-jumping thing. Piece of cake, right?
She knows right away when the wormhole opens and dumps her into the sky that it isn't as easy as it sounds. This world is weirdly golden, she can feel the difference in the light—not enough to affect her, looks like, so that good—but she can see STAR Labs from here, it looks pretty much the same way Barry had described it.
But a streak of blue lightning catches her attention first, and then a howl of pain has her cutting her glide through the sky short and angling toward an open plaza, almost deserted except for a cluster of frightened-looking people, and an ominous figure in black holding one of them off the ground by his throat. She lands hard, one knee to the ground and one hand to balance herself, and straightens, fists on her hips, glaring.]
The only way to control and contain the metas was to make them fear him. Make them so afraid of crossing him that they stayed in line. The only way to do that was to make a very public examples of those who did step out of line. He ruled them. He controlled them. A lesser man might abuse such a position, but he only did it out of absolute necessity. And he only abused his position when it came to speedsters. The rest didn't matter.
At the sound of something hitting the ground behind him, Harrison whipped his head around, those solid black eyes narrowing at her. A hero? The closest thing this city had to heroes was the man who called himself The Flash, and he was a mess. He turned back to the woman he held, fingers digging at the black leather glove as she struggled to breathe.
"I'm giving you one last chance to prove yourself," he growled in that unnatural voice of his at the woman in his grip. "Get rid of her." No caveats, no deals. Killer Frost knew where she stood. He dropped her, practically shoving her at the caped woman. Which resulted in a blast of ice, and a flash of blue lightning as he took off, a trail zipping up a building not far away, so he could watch.
That voice gave her chills. Sometimes it was pretty easy to tell who the villain was, less easy to know what to do about it right away, especially when they dropped minions in the way and took off like that.
"Hey!" she called after the lightning, scowling and about to go after him when something cold hit her hard on her back and shattered. "What—" She turned back, just in time to get hit in the face by a grouping of...were those icicles? "What are you doing, stop—stop doing that," she said firmly, grabbing one icicle out of midair and crushing it. "Just go, okay, run! All of you, get out of here!'
And before the woman could manage more than an agonized, hoarse "No—" Kara kicked off from the ground, fists extended and red cape billowing, arrowing right toward the rooftop where the dark speedster had ended up. "Let's talk, Zoom!"
The fight ended far too soon. This was meant to be a means for Killer Frost to prove he didn't need to kill her like he'd done with so many others. He didn't want to, he had. Some of them didn't inspire such doubt, they were filthy, awful criminals who deserved everything he did. But something about her twisted the pit of his stomach with guilt. He'd need to worry about that later, because there was a red and blue do-gooder headed straight for him.
Where was she months ago when these metas started taking over the city?
He didn't have TIME to deal with this. But he stood his ground as she approached. If he ran, he'd be seen as a coward. The last thing he needed was someone like Deathstorm sensing weakness in him and trying to bring him down. "A little girl playing dress up. How cute." He says in that ominous voice to the girl who can obviously fly.
Jesse knows there’s something going on with her dad. He’s... there’s something off about the way he’s acting, and she doesn’t know what it is, or what’s happened, but something HAS happened. Something’s wrong. Only he won’t tell her anything. He’s just... pushing her away. And she knows him. No matter what it is that happens, he always protects her. He must... think pushing her away will help protect her. Or that pushing her away IS protecting her, which worries her more.
She’s not giving up, though. He’s her dad. They’re a team. And she won’t give up on him. He protects her. All the time. No matter what. All she wants to do is protect him.
He wasn't pushing her away. At least not by conscious choice. She just couldn't know certain things, or be involved with others. If she knew the truth, even a small piece of it, it wold destroy her. And if anything happened to hear, it would destroy him. It was all to keep her safe. Every last thing he did. Every time he put on that mask. Ever time he took another dose. He'd lost Tess because he hadn't protected her enough. He wouldn't lose Jesse.
He strode into his office, hair mussed and shirt rumpled. He'd just come back from dealing with yet another meta threat. With the crater they'd left and the damage to the monorail supports, he had no doubt they'd make the news soon enough. Zoom: Protector or Enemy Part 12. He was getting tired of the headlines.
He didn't look pleased to see Jesse in his office, especially at such an hour. He stared at her, his lips pressed into a tight line. Had he remembered to lock his computer before he'd left? Were there any stray articles or files on his desk that might reveal something? He kept his gaze focused on her.
"Don't you have studying you should be doing?" He sounded colder than he meant to, locking it all down too tightly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
TFLN
02. I can recall having this conversation with a three year old, but go on
03. Do I even need to ask how intoxicated you are?
For Gotspeed
I'm still waiting for the actual conclusion, Allen
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for trigeminalheadache
Recount. Unless you have another explanation for the gibberish you sent me before
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:( :( :( :( :(
/Eobard shrug
For queenleftbehind
Both of which are things I don't need to know about you, Ms. Queen.
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For timetopaythepiper
Not yours. But I never said I wanted to be your friend.
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For lighteningmadeabs
[ GDI Barry. There's important things to be done. You can't ALWAYS be late. ]
If you're not here in 3, I'll GET you.
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She knows right away when the wormhole opens and dumps her into the sky that it isn't as easy as it sounds. This world is weirdly golden, she can feel the difference in the light—not enough to affect her, looks like, so that good—but she can see STAR Labs from here, it looks pretty much the same way Barry had described it.
But a streak of blue lightning catches her attention first, and then a howl of pain has her cutting her glide through the sky short and angling toward an open plaza, almost deserted except for a cluster of frightened-looking people, and an ominous figure in black holding one of them off the ground by his throat. She lands hard, one knee to the ground and one hand to balance herself, and straightens, fists on her hips, glaring.]
Hey! Put him down, now.
(I'm too lazy for brackets)
At the sound of something hitting the ground behind him, Harrison whipped his head around, those solid black eyes narrowing at her. A hero? The closest thing this city had to heroes was the man who called himself The Flash, and he was a mess. He turned back to the woman he held, fingers digging at the black leather glove as she struggled to breathe.
"I'm giving you one last chance to prove yourself," he growled in that unnatural voice of his at the woman in his grip. "Get rid of her." No caveats, no deals. Killer Frost knew where she stood. He dropped her, practically shoving her at the caped woman. Which resulted in a blast of ice, and a flash of blue lightning as he took off, a trail zipping up a building not far away, so he could watch.
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"Hey!" she called after the lightning, scowling and about to go after him when something cold hit her hard on her back and shattered. "What—" She turned back, just in time to get hit in the face by a grouping of...were those icicles? "What are you doing, stop—stop doing that," she said firmly, grabbing one icicle out of midair and crushing it. "Just go, okay, run! All of you, get out of here!'
And before the woman could manage more than an agonized, hoarse "No—" Kara kicked off from the ground, fists extended and red cape billowing, arrowing right toward the rooftop where the dark speedster had ended up. "Let's talk, Zoom!"
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Where was she months ago when these metas started taking over the city?
He didn't have TIME to deal with this. But he stood his ground as she approached. If he ran, he'd be seen as a coward. The last thing he needed was someone like Deathstorm sensing weakness in him and trying to bring him down. "A little girl playing dress up. How cute." He says in that ominous voice to the girl who can obviously fly.
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She’s not giving up, though. He’s her dad. They’re a team. And she won’t give up on him. He protects her. All the time. No matter what. All she wants to do is protect him.
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He strode into his office, hair mussed and shirt rumpled. He'd just come back from dealing with yet another meta threat. With the crater they'd left and the damage to the monorail supports, he had no doubt they'd make the news soon enough. Zoom: Protector or Enemy Part 12. He was getting tired of the headlines.
He didn't look pleased to see Jesse in his office, especially at such an hour. He stared at her, his lips pressed into a tight line. Had he remembered to lock his computer before he'd left? Were there any stray articles or files on his desk that might reveal something? He kept his gaze focused on her.
"Don't you have studying you should be doing?" He sounded colder than he meant to, locking it all down too tightly.