f a s t e r

[purplecyborgnewt]

Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a speedster… or two of them.

[speedinreverse]

dreamsxfnia​:

Nia looked up as a figure phased through the door. Eobard. “It was you,” she said, horrified. She glared hard, wishing that she wasn’t in such a vulnerable position like this, unable to move without help. Ignoring his question, she skipped straight to the point. How she felt had to be pretty damn obvious. “What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?” She felt foolish for having trusted him at all, but she’d thought… in one’s dreams it was harder to be deceitful usually. Clearly she had been naive. Nia hadn’t even told anyone about the dreams, about the man she’d met while dream walking. “You could’ve killed me.”

🗲 🗲 🗲 🗲 

“So many questions,” Eobard said with a thin smile, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest as he watched her. “Yes, it was me, and yes, I could’ve killed you. If I was less careful, I would have.” As it was, the tree had been an inconvenience, but he wasn’t one for patience. He’d just cooled off on speed a bit on the approach to compensate. It wasn’t a perfect science, but the speed in his veins was more instinct most days than the pure science it’d started as.

“I just need you to do me a favour, and then you can be on your way. You can dreamwalk--I need you to find someone for me. Get into his dreams. Nothing too strenuous.” 

[speedinreverse]

twentyninetynines​:

/

The guy had a point. Tech, on its own, wasn’t good or bad. It was people who influenced it one way or the other, but at the end of the day… “People are always going to use it for shit like that.” Maybe people like Tim Drake and Lena Luthor were good. Maybe they meant well. But for every one of them, there were a thousand who were more like Tyler Stone. And maybe it was unfair for Miguel to point fingers given his own history of helping the wrong side for the wrong reasons, but it was hard not to think of people like Luthor, Drake, and even Stark as complacent in what happened, in the end.

Security advancements like the ones Drake was making would lead to the Public Eye system that made 2099 a dystopian hellhole. Virtual reality like the shit Luthor was throwing around would evolve into the Cyberspace system that left millions of people dead, with Miguel’s brother just barely escaping the fate. People were only excited because they didn’t know how this all ended up.

“Surviving’s not always all it’s cracked up to be,” he murmured, gripping his glass tightly and wishing, not for the first time, that there was something stronger than water in it. “This stuff will make the world better in the short term, maybe, but in the long term? We’re all sho — screwed.”

“Of course. L’appel du vide--we find it hard to leave anything alone.” He wasn’t above the affliction, either. He’d been chastised for it constantly; by his parents and Robern, until he’d put an end to that, and ever since then by the Science Police when they managed to get their hands on him every so often. In his time, he was pointed to as a prime example of why scientific pursuits were kept in the hands of just a few. 

Bullshit, as they would say in the 21st century. He far preferred it here, even for its archaic technology. There was far more freedom, far more excitement to keep him occupied so that the lightning in his veins didn’t threaten to burn right through him.

He almost missed the slip of slang from the other man’s tongue, so busy was he mentally railing against his own timeline. Had it not been corrected midway through, the word might have slid on by, but as it was, the correction snagged Eo’s attention.  Shocked. That hadn’t become slang until an invention in the 2070s. Certainly it shouldn’t be something heard here, now. Things weren’t exactly as they were in the history books, but surely it couldn’t be that off. Eobard’s brow knitted, and he regarded Miguel with new focus, searching for any other sign that something was off. “Sounds like a voice of experience. You know what they say--hindsight is 20/20.”

[dreamsxfnia]

@speedinreverse​ 

Nia came to, well beyond just confused. The last thing she remembered was Eobard, someone she’d thought was a friend, his face hidden behind an unfamiliar mask with eyes glowing red. And then a blow to her already aching head, rendering her unconscious until… now. Nia tried to sit up, immediately aware of the pain in her leg as she did. But she pushed through it, pushing herself up until she was sitting with a wall against her back. Where was she? Looking around, it was nowhere she recognised. Nowhere easily identifiable to her. And no one–she realised with a sinking heart–would even know she was missing, let alone where to find her. She had to figure this out herself.

[speedinreverse]

🗲 🗲 🗲 🗲

Kidnappings were far from his usual modus operandi.  It wasn’t as if he’d never done it before, of course--destroying the life of the Flash meant getting to his family, and more often than not, that required some work.  But Eobard had speed running through his veins, raw and unbridled, and he was always one for instant gratification rather than the long game.

He didn’t anticipate that Nia Nal would be too much of a slow-down, but he’d learned a long time ago to prepare for the unexpected.

He heard a stirring in the next room, and phased through the door, settling from a blur into the shape of a man on the other side. The suit and mask had been foregone, replaced with something that blended in more than the bright yellow. “How are you feeling?”

[dreamsxfnia]

meet me awake || eobard & nia

SUMMARY: After the attack on her home the night of the Lord Tech Gala, Nia attempts to go home to Parthas to visit her father for a few days. Eobard has other plans. DATE: November 10th FEATURING: @speedinreverse  WARNINGS: car crash, blood, injuries

Keep reading

[speedinreverse]

Technical advancements like this are what led to Ultron… and the sentinels. Hard to get hyped with that in mind. // @twentyninetynines​

Eobard shrugged, plucking a drink from the tray of passing waitress.  “That’s hardly the technology’s fault, is it?” Eobard asked with a raised brow, bringing the glass to his lip and taking a sip.  “It thinks the way we program it to, it does the things we task it for.  The problem isn’t the technology, it’s the people using it.”  

The argument the other man was making was precisely what had led to the suppression of science in his own century--permitted only to be performed by people specially appointed to do so, tightly managed and controlled.  The 21st century, this century, was the golden age of innovation as far as the history books were concerned.  In centuries since, increasing restrictions meant to deter crises were put in place. 

They never worked.  Not really.  Where one problem went away, another took its place.  

“Humanity’s a creative bunch.  We’ll always find new and more efficient ways to bring ourselves to the brink.  I’m confident humanity will survive whatever genie it lets out of the bottle--at least for a few centuries.”

[speedinreverse]

Don’t look at me like that, I’m hungry. // @fxstestkid​

Eobard stared at the younger speedster, what could be seen of his face beneath the mask torn between disgust and annoyance as he watched Bart pile his plate high with food.  “They’re not planning on snatching the food out from under your nose, nephew,” he said with a disdainful scowl.  His own plate was reasonably laden, because he was not a greedy child, thank you.  

Speedsters needed a far higher caloric intake than their non-speedster peers, for sure, but there were ways to consume that much without drawing attention to oneself with a plate a half-mile high in the midst of a high-class gala.  

Avoiding attention was, coincidentally, the reason that Bart Allen had not recieved a supersonic hand through the chest yet this evening.  There was always more than enough time at his disposal, and there were other ends to be explored tonight.  Connections to make, secrets to steal, relationships to exploit.  Quiet havoc to wreak.  

“Did you run here, or have you been so careless with your speed tonight that you’re already that desperate for food?”  

[speedinreverse]

[greenhouselab]

[speedinreverse]

dreamsxfnia​:

***

Nia shrugged, but she felt a flash of pride nonetheless. She was, however slowly, learning to be proud of her abilities and to stop feeling guilty that it was she who inherited them and not her sister. Nia had not chosen this, they had chosen her. Even if they weren’t the easiest to control. “I don’t know of many myself,” she admitted. Her mother was the only other she knew of. If only… This whole thing could be so much easier.

His comment about his dreams being different certainly was true. They gave her the feeling of being in another world, like she’d hopped dimensions instead of into a dream. But not in the way that dreams normally made no sense. It was difficult to explain, but it was like another flavour of weird. “Oh?” Was he an alien then? There was a lot of them hiding among humans on this planet after all. “Where’s home then?” 

🗲 🗲 🗲 🗲

She would be more apt to have her finger on the pulse of others like her, no doubt, so her suggestion that there weren’t many only served to make her all the more valuable.  He was certainly willing to take her word for it.  “I’m sure it must be lonely.  I’m self-taught, myself, so I understand how difficult it can be.”

Where’s home?  Well, if that wasn’t a loaded question.  The real answer, as far as Eobard had ever been concerned, was nowhere, but he knew perfectly well what she was asking and so went with the easier answer.  “I’m from almost five centuries in the future.  Central City, technically, though we commuted frequently to New York and D.C.”  What took today’s citizens a several-day train ride or drive took just under an hour on the hyperloop, in his time.  “To be honest, I feel more at home in the past than I did there.  Different values, you understand.”  

[speedinreverse]

whiteqveendarling​:

Emma’s eyes narrowed at his, catching the brief flash of red. So, it seemed this one wasn’t just a regular boring person. It seemed he had secrets of his own and Emma knew a secret when she saw one. It was just the meticulously picking and prying it took to get them to expose it. Though a telepath could often pull the deepest things out of someone, Emma took pride on being about to pick someone apart without going into their mind. A skill she had to learn long before her mutant gene became active. Her powers were an aid but not her source.

“I’m hardly ever mistaken.” Emma replied as he stated about judging by appearances. However, Emma always did looked down her nose at people. She had a lot of thoughts as to way but there was one simple motive. Don’t let people see you weak and no one can abandon you if you made sure they never had you in the first place. A seemingly complex behaviour distilled to one simple lesson. “I have a thing about scientists. You always seem to play with things that never concern you. Then you cry and pout like a child when you are shocked that things didn’t go exactly to plan.” As he offered his hand, Emma glanced down at it before back at him, not taking it straight away. Make them wait. Make them second guess things. It came natural. As their hands met, she finally spoke. “Emma Frost and I have my drink.” Just like that a Manhattan was placed into her hand by the bar staff.

🗲 🗲 🗲 🗲

“There’s always a margin of error,” Eobard answered smoothly, taking the refilled drink the bartender slid down the counter toward him.  “An outlier, an exception to the rule.”  He was an exception to a great many, himself.  A stand-out ( disappointment ) within the Thawne name, a speedster with his own form of Speed Force, a free scientific mind in a society of sycophants.

Speaking of science.  

Eobard scoffed at her words, though something about them hit a little close to home than she probably knew.  “That’s the entire point of science.  Forging out into the unknown, taking apart the world and putting it back together again to figure out how it works.  A proper scientist takes their failures in stride and turns them into successes.  Nobody said it’d be easy--and I’m not much a fan of easy, anyway.  Fortunately.”  

She stared at him for a long moment, and Eobard returned her gaze steadily until her hand finally accepted his and she offered up a name.  Emma Frost.  

Fitting. 

"A pleasure, Miss Frost.  You’ve discussed what I do--may I inquire as to what it is you do?  Aside, of course, from freezing bar fights in their track and cutting a truly stunning figure in that dress.”

[speedinreverse]

dreamsxfnia​:

[ ✉️ -> dream guy ] yeah?  [ ✉️ -> dream guy ] is that just because it’s different? [ ✉️ -> dream guy ] though it’s certainly been… interesting recently.

[ ✉️ -> dreamwalker ] Different, yes.  More chaotic, but better for it. [ ✉️ -> dreamwalker ] You all have much more freedom in this time than we do. [ ✉️ -> dreamwalker ] Yes, none of this made it into our history books.  The seige, a second country in New York Harbor.  None of that.  Which begs the question as to whether this is indeed the same timeline I departed from. 

[dreamsxfnia]

[ ✉️ -> @speedinreverse ] hey [ ✉️ -> dream guy ] you still sticking around this time period?

[speedinreverse]

[ ✉️ -> dreamwalker ] Hello. [ ✉️ -> dreamwalker ] I am, yes.  I think I’ll be here for a while.  Far more interesting than where I’ve come from.  [ ✉️ -> dreamwalker ] [unsent] And no prison cell with my name waiting for me.

[speedinreverse]

whiteqveendarling​:

\

Emma had considered herself done and believed the appropriate punishment had be served. After all, there was a time the White Queen would make a man enjoy humiliating himself and do the most crazy things as punishment foreven the smallest slights against her. However, she liked to think she matured past that but she sure as hell was going to let it be known that some if not many mutants were scared to stand up to a human, even in their own home. Emma had no such issue.

She was about to leave until a drink was put on the bar near her, causing her to stop and look at the man who addressed her. Her eyebrow quirked slightly as he spoke. She seemed to pause, as if she didn’t hear him before she leaned in a little. “With a face like that, I doubt they are smart ideas.” Her tone was low in its delivery, her cobalt eyes not shying away from his own eyes. “I suggest you do what that gentleman is doing and enjoy his drink. I am being gracious enough to let you choose if you want to make a mistake.”

Oh, he liked this one.  His instincts said she was dangerous, left a faint taste of ozone on his tongue in warning, and he didn’t care one whit.  What was the point of having the powers he had if one wasn’t willing to push their luck?  He was still alive, after all.  There were few mistakes he couldn’t undo.  

Not that he thought he’d have any desire to undo an evening with a woman like her.  

Eobard’s smile sharpened, eyes flickering briefly electric-red before fading back to their normal blue. “And here I thought a woman as sharp as you would know better than to judge by appearances.  Smart ideas are my stock-in-trade.  And at any rate--science makes no progress without a few mistakes.  I appreciate your concern, but I daresay both of us can take care of ourselves.”  He offered his hand across the counter.  “Professor Adrian Thawne.  Can I get you a drink?”

[colleenrand]

“ if he puts his hands on you, cut them off. ” 

@speedinreverse 

The fight had been over as quickly as it started. There were still lingering people who were looting, trying to scrape up what they could before anyone else came around to settle the fighting. (End it, really. And Colleen had been harsh at putting a pointed end to the squabbles. The point being the end of her blade…) But these guys went running the second she came around the corner. Apparently, it had gotten around that she was in the area. And no one wanted to make the mistake of fighting her. 

The voice behind her startled her and that… didn’t happen. Ever. No one snuck up on her. She had been training with the Hand since she was a child. Learning to pick up the faint footsteps of anyone in the vicinity — at least a block — but this guy’s voice was what brought her to a place she hadn’t been in a long time. A strange place of surprise. Much like Bakuto showing his face after he had been dead. Colleen spun around, looking at the man who had shown up, her katana still in hand, her posture a bit tense. 

(How many could sneak up on her? And if he could — he could have killed her.) 

“Apparently, word gets around,” Colleen said, but her flippant comment was said in too serious a tone to pass. Her eyes firmly on his face. “I guess I cut too many off.” A pause, brief, but also pointed. “How long were you there?” 

[speedinreverse]

The woman damn near jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice, whirling around with her katana gripped tightly.  Eobard didn’t bat an eye from his perch on the fire escape behind her, where he definitely had not been when she rounded the corner the first time.  He was well within reach of a well-aimed katana, if she cared to try, though it wouldn’t do her any favors; he could move faster than anything she could swing at him.  

The men who she’d sent scuttling off like cockroaches apparently were not so confident, which meant she had a reputation.  He liked people who had reputations.  It meant that one way or the other, they’d be fun. 

“So it would seem,” he grinned.  The yellow suit had been foregone for the evening, apt to draw more attention than he wanted right now.  No, tonight’s mission was simply reconaissance.  Getting a lay of the land, and the heroes flitting about the city’s streets.

Progress was evidently being made on that front.  

Eobard stepped onto bottom rung of the ladder, letting it slide down until he could hop gracefully to the ground below.  “Long enough.  It looked like someone might need some help, but clearly you had it more than handled, miss--?” 

[speedinreverse]

goddamndumbass​:

/ .- / -.- / .- /

Jessica inhaled sharply, and tried to remember everything the doctors had said about high blood pressure being bad for the baby. She frowned at him, let out a heavy sigh. “I was talking about as a P.I.,” she deadpanned. “Most potential clients don’t hit on me. Or are you in the doorway of my building just to be annoying?” she asked, gesturing behind him.

The fall air was starting to get that sharp, crisp scent to it. The one that really stuck in the nose, made you take notice. She noticed a lot of things about him. He was cocky, with the looks to make up for it. Walking that line between conventionally and not-conventionally handsome that always got her into so much trouble. His smirk was like glass, sharp edged and polished, like he’d practiced it and worked on it forever. 

“Jones,” she said. “Jessica Jones. Alias Investigations,” she said, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a crumpled business card. “You wanna discuss what kind of portfolio you have up in my office?”

🗲 🗲 🗲 🗲

Eobard’s grin only widened at the sharp intake of breath from the woman, watching her expression as she sized him up where he lingered in the doorway.  Even so, he began taking mental note: P.I.  Private investigator, which meant she was attentive, meant that she noticed things that were off.

Years of time travel had made him a much better actor than he’d once been, way back when Robern had been constantly lurking at his shoulder waiting for a wrong move.  For all that’d worked out for him.  At least he’d been wiped from the timeline rather than been on the receiving end of some of Eobard’s bloodier means of getting rid of people--satisfying as it might have been to see the look on his brother’s face. 

Ah, well.  Hindsight was twenty-twenty.  

“Then most of your potential clients lack initiative and have paid for it,” Eobard replied smoothly, reaching behind him to prop the door open so she could slip past him if she truly insisted.  “I’ve found that those who don’t mix business and pleasure have far less of the latter.” 

But then she was passing him a business card (how quaint), offering a name and inviting him up, and he knew that wasn’t going to be a problem.  “Dr. Adrian Thawne,” he returned.  ‘Eobard’ stood out this far in the past, so he’d long ago settled on an alias for coming back to the century of the Flash. He smoothed her business card out in his palm before carefully tucking it into his breast pocket.  “It’d be my pleasure, Miss Jones.”  He took the door handle and stepped inside, holding the door for her politely.  

“After you.”

[theloisjlane]

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

@speedinreverse

Lois barely saw it, a kid who came in leaving a stream of color behind him before robbing the store — foods of all kinds were missing and what hadn’t been taken, had been brutalized in some form. The isles suddenly bare and too much of it was gone to have gone unnoticed. Lois glanced at the door and then at the shelf again before her attention shifted to the man next to her, “You — saw that, right?” On the off chance that Lois’s mind was playing tricks on her, but the man seemed odd when he denied it. Not in any particular way that Lois could prove, but enough to where, Lois wasn’t sure about him. But still, her focus remained on the stolen food. And Lois was too softhearted about kids to show any anger. “Do you think there is a program on Genosha that would help them? Maybe I could find them and take them there.” Her eyes flickered back to the man. “Are you from this area? Do — where would kids go if they were squatting?”

[speedinreverse]

It was never anything short of a delight, seeing others use their powers here in the 21st century.  In Eobard’s time, such things were long past, their bearers seen as something other.  The few times his battles with the Flash carried back--or forward, as was more often the case--to his home era, the news hadn’t stopped covering it for weeks.   But here he was in a bodega in Midtown, and the only response to the show of speed from the teen who’d blurred through here just moments ago was some muttering and eye rolls, and a few bewildered questions and glances.  One was directed at him, by the young woman at the end of the aisle, and Eobard shrugged as he plucked a bottle of soda off the shelf and offered a confused denial of his own.   He hadn’t seen what she’d seen, after all.  His own connection with the Negative Speed Force meant that he’d been able to catch a glimpse of the kid’s face rather than merely the residual sparks left in her wake.  Electricity buzzed in his own veins, making him itch to run through this city, track her down, find her name.  This time was saturated with heroes, and the chances that it was someone he’d know from the future were admittedly slim.  But one could never be sure.  If there was anything Eobard had learned, it was that the timeline delighted in little more than throwing curveballs at you.  

“On Genosha?  One would imagine so--my understanding is that they offer help to anyone with powers for the time being.  But whoever came through would know, surely.”  Eobard tucked the bottle under his arm, and turned on a heel to examine the dismal collection of fruit that had gone untouched.  Judging by the bruisng, probably for good cause.  “I’m not a local, no, but if I’m pretty good at finding people.”  Particularly people who had lightning in their veins.  “If you’re planning to go look for them, that is.”