#ruleroflimbo

[prydeofx]

👻 at the cemetery @ruleroflimbo

The soft, dewy grass crinkled under her boots. Like every year, today saw no rain or dreariness from the clouds, sunrise to sunset, and Kitty wasn't sure she wanted to know whether that was intentional or not. She stopped in front of the headstone she'd made a point of visiting at least twice a year.

It read, Illyana Nikolievna Rasputina. Sister. Daughter. Friend. Smaller etchings underneath that marked two important dates, a birthday and the day it all ended.

It's been three years since she died.

"Hey, Yana," she started. The headstone stared back at her. Unfazed, she continued, "You'd probably hate knowing I was out in space again. I made it back in time, though. That's gotta count for something, right?" Kitty tried to smile, but it fell flat. She glanced up at the darkening sky. "I'm sorry for visiting so late. I promise it won't happen again."

[mistressofmagic-a]

@ruleroflimbo

Zatanna was in the kitchen, Tony was resting and she was trying not to be suffocating giddy around him after he said yes. (He would have let her, she knew that. Tony had always been welcoming any time she had openly showed affection—but he had recently been on the ground, dying—and she didn’t want to stress his heart any more than she had just by proposing.)

She stood there, in the kitchen, with too much energy and trying not to bounce off the walls while humming to herself. Wondering if she should cook something or if she should find a book to read—but no matter what, her mind was occupied. She had a spoon in her hand, considering her options, twirling it in her hand, when Illyana cleared her throat and Zatanna jumped. But that look of surprise only lasted for a moment before she was grinning at Illyana. “What are you doing here, Yana?” She paused a moment. “How are things out there? I haven’t had a reach chance to get out there after the blackout.”

[phoenixtouched]

“ i’m on your side. ” 

@ruleroflimbo​ 

Rachel felt her body tense at the sound of the voice. It was that same woman from before who claimed to be Illyana. The same one in the chat that had driven Kitty off — and Rachel didn’t know what had happened there, and she wasn’t going to ask. If Kitty decided later, she wanted to talk about it, Rachel would listen, but up until that point, it was none of her business. “Trust is something earned,” Rachel said without looking at her, instead focusing on the papers in front of her. She was trying to return to something normal that she had before. Teaching seemed like a natural job to slip back into — but she was still floundering as she tried to find her place. “You hide your mind and claim the name of someone I used to know,” Rachel said plainly. “I don’t trust you.”

[mistressofmagic-a]

@ruleroflimbo

Zatanna hadn’t told anyone where she had been going. In her mind, it was going to be a moment — there and back again, nothing more. But instead, she came back here, smelling like ash and brimstone. The scent of death clinging to her like the memory of her father touching her face and whispering to her because he thought she had died. (And he wasn’t surprised that she was there — he knew — he had done something.)

Walking back into Shadowcrest didn’t feel like coming home this time. (Had it ever?) The oppressive weight of the house hit her as she stepped through the threshold. Another responsibility that had been cast onto her. Not a choice had made — everything felt out of her control. Illyana was facing her own trials and Zatanna was keeping hers close to her chest. It seemed like Illyana was in the house. Maybe for research on her own predicament. (Or maybe she knew, somehow, that Zatanna needed to not be alone.) “Yana,” Zatanna called out, moving further into the house. “You didn’t throw another party in my absence this time, did you?” A joke, that fell incredibly flat with the exhaustion in her voice.

[roi-des-voleurs]

@ruleroflimbo -- Illyana Rasputina

(for Begin Again Secret Santa!)

[daisyquakes]

“We don’t have to help if we don’t make eye contact.”

@ruleroflimbo

Daisy, at the instruction, immediately closed her eyes. Wishing nothing more than to have a break for the night. It had started up with talking animals and then getting her wallet stolen from a pumpkin that she had thought was a kid. (Letting them walk away with her money because she figured they needed it more than her - she was wrong. Very wrong.) "Where is your arm?" Daisy murmured, reaching for her arm and shoulder area, waving her hand until she made contact. "I just want a drink. Or three. Maybe we could convince them to give up their lives of candy crime and get something harder they'll give this up entirely." She cracked open one eye, looking at Illyana just barely before shutting her eyes tightly again. "Worth a shot. It's a better party with more people drinking."

[phoenixtouched]

“I don’t think that’s a costume…”

@ruleroflimbo

Rachel's brows furrowed, looking at the people who had cut across the street and headed into a convenience store. The moves had seemed so natural that Rachel figured they were locals that were going to their favorite shop to get something to drink to get through this night of aggressive pumpkins and their insults. (And all the other decorations that had several layers of attitude.) "No?" Rachel asked, tipping her head to the side as she watched the last of them head inside the store, wondering if that was a hint that they should follow them. "Would it be rude to ask them?"

[catalystsofchange]

“I don’t think that’s a costume…” // @ruleroflimbo​

You’d think with all the chaos going on, the normal parts of Halloween would have been cancelled for the year. But, naturally, that was hardly the case. There were still people in full costume roaming the city, still children knocking on doors looking for candy. And honestly? It made the whole ‘crime fighting’ thing a little more confusing than it normally was. Dick hadn’t accidentally punched a random citizen in a costume yet, but he was pretty sure the time was coming. 

It did have him scrutinizing things a little more before going in swinging. The last thing Dick wanted to do was hit someone he shouldn’t have hit, even if they were making less-than-wise decisions in running around in costume in the midst of the chaos. He squinted at one figure as it came close, shuffling towards him. A woman spoke behind him, and he nodded. “Probably not,” he agreed, “buuuut I’d like to be sure.” Digging in his pocket, he found a receipt and held it up with a grin. “Bingo.” He crumpled the paper into a ball, tossing it at the figure and bouncing it off their head. A person would probably say ‘Hey,’ or, considering they were in New York, ‘Fuck you.’ But the figure in question only changed direction and began shuffling directly towards Dick. “Yep,” he confirmed with a nod, “That’s a legit zombie. Nice!” He grabbed his escrima sticks from his utility belt, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’m trained for this. I made it, like, three seasons into the Walking Dead before I stopped watching.”