#threads; chats

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd​

     it’s the kind of day which kept on giving, with a case being handled by her investigative firm in full swing when davina had been called upon to deal with something else. that one had made the news and, despite having been in the public for over a year, she still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it. the second incident hadn’t been located far from the concrete building she’d once walked the halls of (if over a mile was considered close), everything having cleared up at almost two in the morning prompting her to walk in the brisk air with a hoodie she’d stolen from john at some point over her uniform. davina hadn’t realized where she was until a breeze had kicked up leaves and drawn her attention. she knew, if he wasn’t on mission, that john was inside. georgie definitely would be and others she knew or didn’t know. however, the latter weren’t people she felt like reuniting with after the day she’d had (not that she didn’t care about the ones she’d worked with during what felt a lifetime ago). so, instead of turning on her heel to return in the direction of her car to head back over to new york, davina pulls out her phone. she was, after all, outside with a small computer screen telling her that her iris scan was no longer valid. she had a feeling manning hadn’t been too thrilled with her when she’d left a few years prior and more so when she’d entered the public eye. 

[ 📲 • sms ] —— are you awake? 

[ 📲 • sms ] —— because i may be standing outside hq and my creds don’t get me in like they used to.

[ 📲 • sms ] —— i’m aware it’s 2:30 in the morning but i’ll bribe you with coffee tomorrow. ;)

[snowregent]

@myersbprd​

     eyebrow raises as golden-haired cousin turns toward johnny, head tilted to the side in knowing inquiry. “i know that look. that’s my diabolical plotting look.” voice emits a tone of ownership over the expression and even perhaps some level of pride if he was, in fact, plotting something. 

               “has shakespeare's iago finally corrupted you?” after all, they’d           been reading othello in class. “no-- it can’t be something that evil,           you’re far too nice for that!” tone becomes teasing. “what do you           have up your sleeve, johnny?”

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd​

hazel hues gaze over the box the werewolf has taken out of her refrigerator, softening for a moment as they wash over the toddler in a playpen and narrowing when they meet those of her brother. “hey, no judging. i’m hungry.” as a point of fact, she’s always hungry these days, her metabolism having altered the moment she’d been inflicted with lycanism. “now if you’d grab a few bowls maybe i’ll share the ice cream with you.” 

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd​​ 

     body shifts as awareness awakens around the edges of her consciousness, cool stone mixed with dirt causing goosebumps to form upon her arms and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. everything feels wrong in only the way waking up in a strange place you certainly hadn’t fallen asleep in could be. darkness enfolds davina’s senses, body rolling over completely as she coughs at the small cloud of dirt that falls onto her face. dark hues open, davina allowing them to adjust as she utters a spell only to find herself suddenly unable to call upon her magic. that, was the first worrisome fact to weave it’s way into her mind. next came the realization she held no memory of arriving at what.. appeared to be some kind of underground tunnel or mine. and third came in the wake of a cursory glance in dim flickering lights: she wasn’t alone. momentary panic rises within her at the form on the ground, sudden movement taken causing her to slide as she makes her way over to the man. hands meet his clothes, turning him over and shaking him rather aggressively in an attempt to ensure he was breathing-- which is made harder by the heavy coat he’s wearing (how was it even when they appeared.. well, she didn’t quite know what they appeared to be at the moment, he still had one of his stupidly large coats on?) 

     “john! john you need to wake up!” tension creases davina’s voice as hands tighten her grip on his shirt even when he appears to stir. “i don’t know where we are or--” voice emits, head tilting down and into his shoulder in relief that at least they appeared mostly unharmed. “--how we got here.” the last thing she remembered they’d gotten out of her car to investigate something and then.. nothing. “johnny, my magic isn’t working.” and that and the way she spoke his nickname was reason enough for alarm on top of everything else. that former allowed for multiple inferences. first, that whatever they were dealing with was likely supernatural in nature. two, it had the ability to screw with one’s head, or at least their memories. and three, they’d have to deal with it the old-fashioned way. oh, and there was the fact they, or at least she, had no idea where they were or what they had been investigating to begin with. everything was fine. everything was, in fact, not fine. 

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd​ 

hands move in quick movements, fingers turning and creating shapes as pandora suddenly thrusts them to the side, sending the agent toward the wall. how he had managed to escape his magical binds, she was unsure. however, she refused to allow him to disrupt her father’s plans at the event upstairs even if she was frustrated by the fact he had placed her on guard duty instead of allowing her upstairs with his gathered society. “uh, uh, uh. escaping is not upon the agenda this evening agent myers.” hands remain in place, holding him firmly above the ground as she moves closer. dora can feel the way the magic pulsed inside her, tinged with darkness, a twisted sense of satisfaction at gaining control of the situation passing through her and making her tighten her magic hold upon him.

seconds pass until something seems to soften in her gaze, hands dropping to her sides quickly as she lets him slide down without the pressure of her magic constricting him. he was to die, she did not need to make things worse for him even if some dark part of her felt tempted to. “you are only going to make things worse for yourself if you keep this up.” of the two agents which had appeared in this time period, why was it him that her father had chosen to drag things out with? what part did a single bprd agent have to play in setting her father’s vision into motion?

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd

     the bustle of agents in hallways embodies the headquarters as a child of no more than three and a half weaves around legs and slides in her socks around corners. it’s an adventure in of itself which features stumbles along the way as she falls and picks herself back up, all the while dodging an agent who had volunteered to watch her while her father left on mission. she makes a game of it, imagining herself as one of the tall people that always surrounded her, off saving the world. every stumble is a battle wound and turn of corner is a dodge of some kind of monster like the ones she makes her father check for in the closet every night at tuck-in time. a flash of dark hair around a corner is seen by one agent a while later, someone calling to another that they’d seen her go ‘this way’ or ‘that way’ and hadn’t stopped her because they’d figured she was with another of the agents which had been in the hallway. they could all be like a family at times, but a child running around, that.. even after all this time in, still took getting used to; georgie learning to run had put them all on their toes. 

     a few hours later when the mission is complete and georgie still seems to have alluded the poor agent meant to watch her (she likes that one, when kate watches her she never escapes), the little girl can be located by her father by the sound of giggling emitting loudly. it’s the kind of laugh the child gets when she’s one part over-tired, one part amused, and too many parts slap-happily hyper. (someone gave her sugar which meant it was going to be a long-night.) “again, siddy!” voice emits with a clap to accompany it. she’d had trouble saying his name when she was a little younger which had morphed into the agent’s new name (in her eyes) becoming ‘siddy’. georgie holds her hands behind her before hiding the metal button in one of them. when she brings them back to the front they are hidden in her fists and agent leach makes a dramatic show of trying to guess where the button has gone. then, he picks one hand and she opens it, giggling when he’s found it again! (they’ve been at this for nearly ten full minutes with some variation, her having started with hiding it in random places in the room.) some might underestimate sidney’s metal-tied ability, georgie, however, thought it was amazing. distraction comes when the child becomes aware of her father in the doorway, happiness flashing in her eyes as she runs at his legs full-force. “daddy!! save world?”

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd​

     it's not long after the three teenagers had arrived at the facility, them now settled as much as they could be. the weight of what they had been through still ran rampant within their minds which, in steph and nick’s cases, included the discovery of an even more mad world than the undead. but anna is not with the other two, no, she’s standing in front of john with a frustrated and tired yet determined expression set upon her features. she knows him well enough to know he’s been too focused on everyone else to have fed properly (not that she’s an expert on vampires by any means). and if mac’s daughter was still out there that was just another thing which would play on his mind. 

     "let me do this for you, john. you're hungry, i know you are. let me do something helpful for someone." she couldn't save her father. she couldn’t save her best friend. she couldn’t even save his aunt from the undead, but she could to this for him and anna felt as if he was making it a bigger deal than it was. it wasn’t as if he was killing her by taking some blood and he’d given her his to save her. she needed to feel like she could do something... save someone even if it was just by giving them a little blood. 

[historiestold-a]

@myersbprd | continued from x

     flight erratic, the draugr lands a blow into kara’s side, skidding them both against the side of a building as bricks fall to the ground below. they almost spiral to the ground if not for kara’s quick thinking, spinning them around so she can blast frozen breath into her foe’s face. it does little to what she could only assume was an undead being aside from granting her the ability to get them further from people. despite working for cat grant in one fashion or another for most of her life and being one of the pioneers of cat’s multimedia application with ben, kara continues to not understand how the people of earth would stand in the middle of a danger zone with their camera phones pointed to the sky rather than seek safety. it was baffling though kara had little time to think upon it. bodies begin to tumble as struggle ensures, high-powered impact just outside the cemetery cracking the street. they move into the confines of the graveyard, kara leading the fight away from the sounds of john’s footfalls as he enters. 

     “<why. won’t. you. stay. down?!>” exclamation emits in kryptonian, the superheroine knowing no answer would be granted her. another blow, this time to her face, forces her to halt against a mausoleum only for another blow to smash inches from her head. she can taste blood and feel a cool stream from her nose and down the side of her face. it’s not often the field is equalized to this degree but her and kal would always find their weakness in magic just as much as kryptonite. flight is taken, ocean hues washing over the cemetery until she sees john dashing between two fresh graves. “john! any ideas?” she calls out, hovering above him though it’s clear by the strain in her voice and her appearance her battle with their foe was taking a toll. but then the draugr is moving toward john and kara’s flying away, using her body to tackle him and move the battle away from john. if john speaks, she’ll hear him.