all_powerfull:

Ty didn't spend much time in Atlantis. His wounds weren't physical, and Arthur quickly made it clear that Ty was somehow to blame for all of this, and wasn't welcome. Not near him, not in Atlantis, and not near the body of the Princess. And no, she was not coming to the surface for burial or anything else.

He's been in his workshop ever since. Now and then he tries for some semblance of order, trying to put the dust and scraps back together into pieces, and pieces into something vaguely recognizeable as machinery. Trying to reassemble his star charts, his blackboard full of equations, his notebooks full of warp theory calculations. It never goes far... either things just don't reassemble right, or frustration kicks in and he destroys it all over again.

After all, that's what he does. He destroys, he loses. All the power in the world, all the powers in the world... control over time, and he was too late. The might of a god, and everything slipped through his fingers. One of the greatest psychic wills in existence, and he still lost control. And worst of all, brilliant minds, use of 90 percent of his brain and total recall... letting him relive and replay every instant. Every minute detail. Every sound, every sight. Reviewing everything he should have done over and over.

They'd been so close. Vacation, normalcy, holidays with his mother now that, with Cait's help, he had achieved a semblance of control. His plans for Christmas... and now it was all gone.

seasiren:

Asherah had not been able to say more than a word to anyone before the funeral. She had been looked over by one of the healers who had seen to a few very minor cuts and bruises but over all Ash had been fine. That did not leave her feeling very good. It didn't seem fair that she was fine when other people weren't. She was angry at herself.

If only she had been better. She wasn't a brave person. She knew that. She had always known she was not very brave. She remembered that in her world she sometimes heard her parents arguing when they thought she would not hear them because they thought she was as timid as a tuna. They each had different ideas on how to change that so she would be a better princess.

She thought that perhaps she had changed during her time on this world. Cait had been very inspiring as an 'older sister'. Cait was capable of making up her own mind. Cait could talk and say what was on her mind without stammering. Cait was what Ash thought a good princess should be and now she and Mot--Mera are both dead and laying in the royal crypt.

She takes the time to clean her face off again and stands up feeling like she had been sitting too long in a court yard on the palace grounds.

"I should g-go," she says out loud managing to say most of that out loud without much of a tremor in her voice , which was a great improvement. It hurt to be in Atlantis maybe she should see if the Teen Titans will have her aid in fighting the other Titans. She thinks she should try and do that. Even if the thought of fighting scares her and makes her feel like little more than a frightened child which was counter to the progress she had thought she had made.

bloodred_robin:

Red Robin watches from the fire escape of the business across the street of Star City General Hospital, keeping an eye out for anyone who looks out of place. He sees Detective Falconeri of the Star City P.D. holding down the scene for the third night in a row, since Roy Harper was brought in with a gunshot wound. The shooting hadn't been publicized yet, hadn't hit any airwaves or made any headlines, according to the Detective. Someone high up in the government has called in favors to keep things under wraps. That was the first thing that caught Red Robin's attention.

( Read more... )

jdoesmith:

Jane didn't like worrying people. She especially did not like to worry those who she had let herself get close to. Of course this meant trying to avoid talking about the fact she never slept undisturbed for the most part. It meant not thinking about how much she wanted to know things that were pretty much impossible to find out.

Eventually Jane moves from where she had exiled herself to. The training room she had set up for herself always faintly smelt like sweat. There was also a faint smell that caught Jane's attention then she sighed.

"Shoulda wrapped my hands," she grumbles twisting her writs to work out the cramps. She had pounded the hell out of the punching bag and had apparently hurt one knuckle while being so aggravated from the nightmares that had struck her. The blond grumbled to herself then moved to go wash her hands off in one of the bathrooms. The light burned her eyes as she flicked it on and she winced as she got a look at herself.

"I look like shit," she mumbled not wanting to wake her lover who should still be asleep. Not like her. She should really try and get some rest. If she got some rest she would look and feel much better.