#timewantstohappen

[stupidinspadesconstantine]

@timewantstohappen

John hadn’t intended to stay in Gotham this long, but after his encounter with a fox shifter, he decided that he’d take a look around. And by “take a look around” he means kick over a few rocks to find out what vermin are hiding underneath. He’s spent the last four days dealing with anyone who so much as thinks about hunting shifters who’ve done nothing wrong. He found a ring of them, but he’s dealt with them now. A couple of the nastier ones have come to a very sticky end, and he feels a bit better about the entire thing. He’s found out a few interesting facts along the way, but there’s not much he can do about those for the moment.

Zatanna invites him to one of her shows, and he needs to wind down, so he goes. He picks a seat at the bar, with good sight lines and a clear path to the exit if he needs it. He orders a pint of what passes for beer in these parts, lights a cigarette, and watches the show. Zatanna knows how to please a crowd, but he’s seen it all before. He knows most of her act off by heart these days; he’s mainly here for the booze and the after show with Zee. He finishes his first pint and turns back to the barman to order another.

It’s then that he notices someone familiar. Well away from the crowd, and the stage... it’s his fox shifter. He’s actually looking worse than the last time John saw him, if that’s even possible.

[theadrogna]

Fox!Rip Moodboard for @timewantstohappen

[goldenfatale-moved]

“Rip Hunter... Lenny never told me that you were BRITISH.”

Lisa smiled, voice pure honey as she slips in right beside the man. 

@timewantstohappen || 101 ways to annoy ones brother - flirt with Rip

[maxcarrados]

Max had just sat down by the fire in his study with a copy of the Times, when he heard the sound of the bell that indicated that someone was at his door. Pulling out his pocket watch, his fingers found the hands of the unusual timepiece that had no glass covering the face, and discovered that his guest was exactly on time. An earlier, rather mysterious, telephone call from an American gentleman had requested this audience with some fascinating details, and an even more intriguing lack of other details.

He concentrated momentarily on the sound of muffled voices, one of which was easily identified as his manservant, Parkinson. The other… was the person that he had been expecting, but too muffled for him to pick out enough of the accent and other vocal cues with exactitude. His visitor was definitely British, and certainly from London, although he would need them to come closer to give the exact area.

There was a knock on the door, and Parkinson entered.

“Sir, a Detective Hunter to see you.”

Max turned towards the sound of Parkinson’s voice, standing to receive his guest and folding his paper to place on the table beside him.

“Of course, Parkinson, please show him in, and bring us some tea.”

“Yes, sir,” said Parkinson, and he heard his manservant step away, leaving his guest to enter the room.

“Welcome to my home, Detective Hunter. I note something of reluctance in your step, but please enter and take a seat. Then perhaps you can elaborate on the reason for your visit. Your American friend skirted around many of the important details, I fear.”

He indicated the seat opposite his own. A leather covered armchair, positioned to be at the correct separation for easy conversation, and just the right distance from the fire so as not to be too hot or too cold.

@timewantstohappen

[noradarhks]

@timewantstohappen

The Question Is Not Who Let Me, But Who Will Stop Me

[kalinara]

Lebt da etwa ein Fisch in deinem Kühlschrank?

Nein!  Ein Eichhörnchen lebt in meinem Kühlschrank!

[anuclearpoweredsuperhero-blog]

@timewantstohappen liked this for a starter

“Advance!” Martin shouted, and the rebels he had brought with him to fight charged forward, shooting and rolling skillfully out of the way of some of the blasts. He was old, but he could still move. Years of training would give that to you.

He sprinted along the edge of the sidewalk, dodging a blast of fire. He shot one of the men out of the sky and turned the corner, leaning against the wall of a crumbling building to catch his breath. From what he could see, so far they were doing pretty well; a few of Eiling’s men were on the ground.

Martin quickly looked up, then, when he heard someone yelling. It wasn’t familiar, but he could just faintly make out what was being shouted; help.

He stepped out from behind the building, locking eyes with his second-in-command, Joe West, and gestured the other way. Joe seemed to understand, and called out a command to the rebels, and they kept going.

Martin whirled around and ran, pausing only a few times to make sure he could still hear the yelling over his own heavy breathing. It was definitely getting louder.

Turning another corner, he was surprised to see a man he had never seen before, which was quite unusual nowadays; most faces, Martin knew. But this one, he didn’t. The other man was cornered by two of Eiling’s men, and the man in question was...trying to hit them with a rolled up piece of paper. It was a miracle he hadn’t been shot yet.

Silently, Martin sprinted toward them and grabbed the two by their necks, knocking their heads together, and when they were on the ground, he shot each of them in the shoulder. Breathing hard, he looked up, eyes narrow.

“Are you all right?”

[crownofthcrns-archived-blog]

@timewantstohappen || moved thread (Fox Rip - Loki)

It’s difficult to ignore the smell of food when your stomach is growling so loudly that the stranger is probably able to hear it and so the fox’ eyes are glued to the package - but then flick back to stare at the man. The man who is a shifter and seems to want to talk to him… and, for some reason, the idea doesn’t scare him. He has been hiding from people for so long now that he barely remembers how to interact with them, but talking is preferable to fighting… and maybe the stranger can help him.

Slowly he takes a step toward the man, ready to run if he decides to attack or otherwise harm him. He moves close enough to almost be within touching range, but then stops, head cocking slightly to the side, a silent question. What now?

Such hesitance. Loki can understand the wariness. It’s in his own bones as well, a uncertainty in the unknown. But a thrill as well. So the god glances around thoughtfully at the park, it seems rather empty at this time in the afternoon. Before the children escape from school, and mothers go walking with prams. 

Loki shifts, a shimmer of blue green light as he changes into something a little more suited. A black fox with luminous green eyes. They always stay the same shade of veridian, regardless of his form. A sharp bark and he flicks his tail thoughtfully, perched into a seated position, letting the other fox make the first move.