#bomb tw

[dreadbound]

@hiddendarkrosesx cont from here!

peter  let  out  a  small  sigh  of  relief,  closing  his  eyes  for  a  brief  moment.  “okay,  great.  that's  great.  thank  you.”  his  eyes  widened  a  little  at  the  next  words.  “you…  think?  okay.  not  so  great.  uh…  okay.  okay,  we  need  to  get  this  dealt  with  then.  safely.  make  sure  that  nobody  is  gonna  get  hurt.”  he  paced  for  a  moment.  “did  you  make  it?”

[aslandurmaz]

location — aslan’s house

with — @miraydurmaz

"You want the rest of these fries?" The question landed in the middle of Miray's reference from her boyfriend's perspective of the shit show a few evenings prior - which was the portion of the night upon Robins Island that neither he, his sisters, nor Cami could claim any relation to. The one thing that had naturally played in his favour, rather than twisted to it, that night was that Miray's brand of antisocial had meant she’d remained aboard the yacht. In turn, making her the easiest variable to account for when his captain had handled the rest. As she spoke, he lifted another bite from the kebab, gaze returning to her across the table. "Should've let the bomb go off." Those who would have survived were obvious enough. Natural selection, at that point.

[imanixkline]

It Never Rains, It Pours

@pantheonsays with Harry Cho ( @dadivosos ), August Bell ( @noxmourners ), Emiliano del Castillo ( @emildelcastillo ), Harvey Knight ( @dxncingonmyown ), Romy McCready ( @romymccready ), Wesley Hope ( @wesleyhope )

From the very beginning of the night The Pantheon showing their hand seemed like something that was to be expected. And she had been, waiting for them, convinced things had been set up carefully enough that they'd be stopped before any damage was done. As the night wore on she'd almost begun to relax, finally finding some company that wasn't all about pleasantries and donations. Perhaps her first mistake - letting her ease at such events take over. Tempting fate in a way that it couldn't resist. Either way, when the text came through there’d been little surprise, brow only arching slightly that the sender wasn’t quite who she’d expected.

The first notion that filled her was irritation, less at the puppeteer but at herself. What was the point of all her polished precision if in the end it made no difference? But there would be time for feelings later ( a consistent lie she told herself, never carving out space for herself to feel much of anything ) the only thing she could do was act.

She did what she did best, the signal traced only to find it had originated from the island. From there steps seemed obvious, enlisting the help of others she thought would be just as invested in locating a member of Pantheon. The Mob's efficiency alongside Augustine ensuring the man she'd identified from the footage and the trace was apprehended with little to no commotion. Perhaps the only advantage of the confusion that no one noticed a man being escorted out of the glasshouse.

But the control she'd tried to establish didn't last long, an announcement from the stage causing panic. Harry was the first she found next, instructions to find her someone who could deal with the supposed explosive if it proved to be true and not just a hoax. Others scattered to try to look for it while New York's Finest attempted to keep the peace. Part of her thought they'd get a sick thrill just from the fear they'd created, the threats no more real than the files they'd fabricated. But risks weren't something she took and she thought there was no better source than the man that had been discretely taken into her custody. "Time to talk."

And he did, eventually, the bomb not only confirmed but the location given. Information relayed to both Capos and Commissioner, police tasked with an orderly evacuation the bomb expert got to work. Time seemed to drag but no explosion came, only the eventual confirmation that the bomb had been rendered useless. What remained of it spirited away to be examined privately at a later date. Other's might have breathed a sigh of relief but it was all far from over. The damage could wait, ignoring the crunch of glass under her heels from smashed windows as she finalised them getting off the island. Comms were re-established, boats summoned once again but they all stayed at the mercy of the weather. Nothing to do but wait out the storm.

[pantheonsays]

@dxncingonmyown (Amelia Dreyer)

[sorevivals-moved]

@sensesdialed: i'm still working on it. (for addy)

national treasure starters / accepting

Despite the situation, there a scoff at the remark with the failed fight move, "Clearly." Addy had figured there was only a matter of time before a hero tried to intervene with her activities. In this case, a seemingly abandoned building she was attempting to blow up of course, it's not about this building, it's about the structure hidden underneath it. Still, there's something that nags at her besides a strange familiarity: he's clearly holding back. Seemingly trying to stop her without causing her too much harm.

She doesn't have the same reservations: she swings for a punch at him with her left arm. "Are they paying you to do this?" Another swing, "Why do you care about some building?" Then, knife in her right hand, she slashes at his direction: not aiming for anything in particular, just trying to switch up the rhythm.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Whumpuary #3: Can't Speak

Jaw pain was nothing new. Griddex rarely went a day without some intermittent twinge or jolt, constantly grinding his teeth to tamp down the stress, anger, fear, everything…It wasn’t easy to break the habit after a decade and counting.

Counting. The tick-tick-tick against the roof of his mouth was like a fragile heartbeat. His own heart raced all the faster, his jaw throbbing viciously in time. A tiny, raspy vibration of a groan trickled out at the deep burn of tendons and ligaments straining to stay absolutely still.

A “pressure switch”, the ringleader had said before making his escape. If Grid clamped down, tried to spit the explosive out, if his throat bobbed wrong as he swallowed, it was over. It was a miracle his jaw hadn’t flexed, seized or spasmed by now.

It nearly did as he heard a telltale swoop, crackle, splat of his brothers’ arrival, sounds that would have him slumping in relief any other day. Now he only lurched, pain wrenching, radiating into his neck.

“Griddex! We’re here! Let’s get you out of—”

Grav stopped. He stared. Grid stared helplessly back, pouring “Get out, turn around, go right back the way ya came” into wide, pained eyes.

And his loving, loyal, stupid brother didn’t even blink as he ignored every bit of it. “Shelle, there’s a bomb. I’ll use antigravity to get you in for a closer look.”

No!

“On it.”

Don’t start fiddlin’ with it, don’t risk it! Get outta here!

“We’re on it, bro,” Blob echoed below for emphasis, no doubt sensing everything he wanted to implore. “We’ve got this, we got you, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Grid’s breath hitched pleadingly, then painfully as a wire tickled the back of his throat.

Holy shell. For the love of everything, do…not…cough.

[musecastle]

What if you tried to bomb Change's home?

Okay, so if you're close enough to actually manage this, it will be very concerned for the people living there, and might very well lob your weapon back at you, or send it wherever else it could. If it knows enough to understand what will cause the least amount of damage, it will try to avoid casualties.

The thing is, Change is not the being you need to worry about. It shares a realm with Dreams and Mischief.

And Mischief's main goal is to ensure you can never even think about trying that again. 

Were it not for the existence of a family he loves, he would absolutely cause an extinction event on purpose over this. But as it is, he's unwilling to let Earth be destroyed. He's happy to let the decision makers sweat for a good long while, though.

Dreams, in this particular case, is somewhere in the middle, and the plan the trio would adopt with Earth is probably close to what she would want to do anyway: keeping the casualties to a minimum, but letting the aggressors, and maybe the entire world, believe otherwise until the last possible moment. 

If somehow left with no choice but to lob the bomb back at Earth, they might well do so, but it's far more likely they'll just destroy your big secret weapon and trick you into thinking something far worse is about to happen, or possibly already has.

Oh, but for those who know what inspired this line of thought: I do think it would take far more aggressive leadership to decide to outright attack them, because while these beings are deeply unsettling, none of the three would outright threaten violence if someone sent the. an ambassador. Far more likely that person would get "don't call us; we'll call you"'d home, immediately followed by a knock at the nearest door...

(Change, in particular, was delighted to see you!)

[autisticgenderworm]

so my sister and i have an inside joke right