Entry tags:
- ashley williams | mass effect,
- cisco ramon | the flash,
- eddie thawne | the flash,
- event,
- h.g. wells | warehouse 13,
- kristen kringle | gotham,
- samantha moon | world of darkness,
- sameen shaw | person of interest,
- sara lance | legends of tomorrow,
- thea queen | arrow,
- tyler lockwood | the vampire diaries
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WHO: Everyone
WHAT: Hot & Cold event!
WHEN:November 15th, ending at midnight of November 30th.
WHERE: Anywhere!
WARNINGS: Threads may contain 18+ content. Please add specific warnings to the subject line of relevant comments.
WHAT: Hot & Cold event!
WHEN:November 15th, ending at midnight of November 30th.
WHERE: Anywhere!
WARNINGS: Threads may contain 18+ content. Please add specific warnings to the subject line of relevant comments.

Kristen Kringle l Library l OTA (Will Edit If Needed)
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Sara heads over, her hands up, rubbing at her temples, trying to massage out the headache, eyes locked on the other young woman. The closer she gets, the more the ticking dulls in intensity, until standing close, it sounds like it's in the distance instead of right beside her.]
Mmm...hey Kristen. Are you hearing this?
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Thea Queen | Warehouse | OTA
For the moment, she was pain-free, but she knew that wouldn't last. She was already pushing the boundaries of when the pain would start and soon she'd run out of people she could possibly ask to satiate the urge. What she needed was some way to feed it without letting on that's what she was doing. The answer came to her far too slowly when it should have been obvious. A night club. Considering she'd managed one, it should have been first in her mind.
Unfortunately, when she arrived, she found it...empty. Wonderful. Now what?
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Leonard is kneeling behind the bar. He's filling a duffel bag with the good stuff. Enough to throw a party. Mick was in a bad way. Which meant he'd nearly emptied every bottle (booze and pills) in the warehouse.
If Leonard doesn't restock the shelves, Mick would do it himself, and that could get ugly fast. Mick is a hunter, not a gatherer.
He stands when he hears footsteps. The music is loud, but he's got a good ear. No one's a better lookout than Leonard Snart. His hand drops away from the gun strapped to his thigh as soon as he sees Thea. The Arrow's kid sister. He'd danced with her for a hot minute at the Diwali party.
"What, did I leave behind a glass slipper?"
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Claudia Donovan | OTA | Spans Nov 15-20
It's here, nestled in a too-comfy chair in the corner of the shop, that she notices a distinct and obvious ticking sound. She ignores it initially, it's quiet enough it's not really much of a disturbance, but eventually it seems to get louder. Almost like when a child yells to get a person's attention because talking wasn't doing the job. She lets out a huff and closes her book, shoving it in her messenger bag, the ticking too distracting to focus.
Over the course of the next several days, the sound goes from a minor annoyance to impossible to ignore, and it seems to have gotten louder, too. The next day, she can be found in the library trying to find information on auditory hallucinations (just in case it's not the damn clock pulling strings and messing with her) and throughout the week, she can be found in various places, like the arcade for a distraction that might be noisier than the noise in her head, the bar to drink the sounds away, or even roaming the hallways in an attempt to get away from it all.
The Bar!
Now, she needed something to try and alleviate things a bit more. Helena knew what it was to lose her mind, and she could feel herself losing it here and now. So she was going to do two of the most logical things she could do. One was to get a stiff drink or ten. The other was to find Claudia because she was the only person who had any chance at keeping her from snapping again. And she didn't want to walk that path again.
Looking a bit worse for wear, sleep had been a luxury she hadn't had in a couple days, Helena found the bar. And was intensely relieved to see the two things she was needing were in the same place. She let out a relieved sigh as she approached Claudia.
"What are you drinking?" She asked a bit curiously. She was contemplating ordering ten of whatever Claudia was drinking.
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Bar time for geniuses
Which is probably why she found her way to the bar, Archimedes in tow. Nothing else she’s tried has helped, so she might as well try the application of something alcoholic. It certainly can’t hurt, and it’s worth the experimentation. Archimedes nudges at her leg, and she smiles and scoops her up, settling the capybara on the bar top. Archimedes let out a delighted chirp and started gallivanting about the wooden surface. Amused, despite the ticking, she starts mucking around and mixing herself a drink. Something fruity and STRONG.
When someone else walks in she looks up, surprised, but offering the other girl a tired, lopsided smile.
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The Clock - Sanctuary
sameen shaw | black sand beach | ota
Of course that second skill doesn't really help when faced with the tick tick ticking that won't seem to stop. It reminds her of endless nights on call from what feels like a lifetime ago, when she still thought she could be someone who mended people.
Or maybe it reminds her of New York City, of a good man who couldn't keep his tie clean to save his life and the number of times she spent in a close quarters just waiting for something to happen.
Either way, the fact that it won't stop is making Shaw incredibly twitchy. She's tried ignoring it, tried meditation of all things. She'd kill for some sedatives or a stiff drink at the very least, but no amount of wishing brought her anything but a set of earplugs which haven't done anything to lessen the sound.
Eventually she finds her way to a set of weathered doors which lead her to a black sand beach. Finally. She balls up her tattered jacket to use as a pillow before collapsing on the sand. Shaw shuts her eyes, hoping the white noise will be enough to make the ticking fade away.]
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Honestly, Sara's gone past pain to exhaustion to something like mild constant irritation. She stomps through the Clock, yanks doors open and jerks them closed behind her, looking for people, for anyone who might make it stop. It makes her feel stupid and dependent, like an alcoholic looking for a drink, or a junkie looking for a dose of opioids. But at the point she's at, she doesn't really care anymore.
The next door leads onto a beach, wide and peaceful, the sand black and coarse under her feet. Glancing around, she squints through the migraine haze, and almost turns to leave again before she sees a woman lying on her back in the sand, near the shore.
Curiously, Sara approaches, rubbing fingertips against a temple, until she's standing just a couple feet above the woman's head. She's small, pretty in a hard, strong way that really appeals to Sara. Looks like she could kick some ass. Sara's smiling when she talks, even if the smile is tight around the edges.]
Hey.
cisco ramon ϟ ota
2. After a full day of ticking, Cisco is, shall we say, a little on edge. He's cooped up in the Cortex, hunched over a sprawling mess of diagrams and parts, trying to figure out how he can block whatever is causing these headaches. He's sick of playing these games, sick of just going along with what the Clock wants. If he could make earbuds that blocked Grodd's telepathy, he should be able to make something that'll put a stop to this, too.
3. Five days into the awful ticking, Cisco has resigned himself to the situation. He's working around it. He waits for the ticking to become just shy of unbearable, then goes on a search for someone he can sit next to for however long it takes him to top up on immunity or whatever, before going about the rest of his day. It's inconvenient and awkward, but he doesn't know what else to do. It would be worse. Probably. ]
3
She nowhere specific right now, roaming hallways in hopes of finding a person that doesn't make the noise worse. She isn't even sure how that works, but it's hell when it becomes a thing. She notices a familiar face not far ahead and waves.]
So, is it just me, or does it low-key feel like you're listening to a bomb counting down in your head with this crap? It's pretty freaky, if you ask me.
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Helena was a little irritable and she seriously wanted to know how to make this go away. It probably wasn't as simple as finding the Artifact responsible and neutralizing it, much to her dismay. As much as she wanted to be disconnected from Artifacts and the Warehouse, right now she wished an Artifact was responsible for this atrocity happening in her brain.
Not being one to take things without fighting back, Helena was trying to figure out what was causing it. And she was wandering while she tried to think. It was more difficult thanks to the pounding and ticking in her head, but she was determined to power through it. It was in this that she happened upon Cisco. It was nice to see a familiar face, though what truly caught her attention were the diagrams and parts. Clearly he was trying to figure something out.]
Am I interrupting?
[She asked carefully, not coming too close without him knowing she was there. Helena was the type of person who didn't like being snuck up on, so she tried to not sneak up on others. Unless she was deliberately trying to be a terrible person.]
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3
But with Cisco, it was almost nice. She could sit down with him, put her head on his shoulder, and bask in the sheer relief. And she could trust that if he were to ask her awkward questions, they would at least be fun awkward questions.
Though she definitely expected him to ask for her measurements one of these days. For the bow. She really hoped they wouldn't be for anything else.
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sara lance | semi-open
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the headache has her crankier than usual, hands gripped tight around hot tea and the coziest of blankets stolen from the napping room, as she tries to maneuver her way around the clock in search of some respite. getting near to friendly faces has helped, but only enough to adjust the noise down from splitting headache to trying to walk on a sprained ankle, and only just for a few minutes at a time.
when she spots sara near the edge of the lake, kara does her best to attempt her usual cheerful approach, but it's quite obviously tempered - as evidenced by her tight smile over gritted teeth, or the way she lets out a huff of disappointment when sidling close only helps marginally more than any previous encounters have so far. ]
This is, without question, the worst thing.
[ and, not that it helps, probably the first time kara's ever been even remotely grateful that her superhearing isn't kicking in here in the box. ]
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> leonard snart
This time? She's been wandering for almost a full day and run into a whole bunch of people - some of them made it worse, none of them made it much better. Eventually, she can't stand it, needs to lie down, so she heads back to her home base, the warehouse.]
Anybody home?
[Once she locks the door behind her, she squints through the haze of pain, eyes scanning the room. She doesn't see anyone right away, but someone's in the kitchen, so she wanders in, still squinting, rubbing at a temple.]
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> caitlin snow
It's only after she's made herself a double-strength americano that she even realizes someone else is in the coffee shop. It's a pretty brunette woman she's never seen before, at least not that she can remember, sitting in one of the massive cozy chairs in the corner by a window.
Worth a shot, right?
Sara waves and heads over, settles on the chair opposite the other girl, notices that the ticking eases a little bit, just a little, and feels an insane surge of hope at it.]
Hey. This might be a bit weird, but are you hearing some ticking that's driving you crazy too?
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[The green glint in her eyes glows brighter as she tries to tune out the ticking and focus on pouring herself some Paragade. It's still glowing when she adds vodka to her glass and then looks up at the sound of the doors opening.
[She makes herself smile. Her throbbing headache caused by this virus (she can't believe this is a possibility she has to consider now) or whatever is no excuse to be a bad host.]
Welcome to the Normandy. [She salutes her with the bottle of vodka.] You want anything?
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arya stark | ota | library
The sound doesn't stop. It's a constant tick-tick-tick in the back of her head that constantly reminds her that the Clock can, and will, get inside her head. Arya hates it.
While the sound lasts, Arya can't focus on much else. It's too infuriating, too distracting, and what's worse, it seems to be getting louder. And as it gets louder, Arya becomes more and more frightened. What if she's going crazy? What if the Clock can control her mind in other, more dangerous ways?
So, in an effort to find some quiet, Arya seeks out the peace of the library. She's tucked behind a shelf, her knees curled up into her chest, and her hands determinedly pressed over her ears. She refuses to hear this sound. She doesn't want to hear it. She just has to block it out well enough. ]
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The last thing he expects to find when browsing the shelves is Arya Stark. She'd always seemed more like a sticks and stones, frog-catching type of girl than a reader. If she wasn't so obviously distressed he'd think she was stalking him again. Something wasn't right.
The obvious choice, when running into the crazy little girl who had shanked him once, was to nudge her with his booted foot. ]
Hey. This ain't the kid's section.
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Arya. What's wrong?
[it occurs to him that it must be the ticking noise as soon as he says it. he reaches for her.]
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Lucifer Morningstar | ota
[ Lucifer's curious at first. It takes a lot for anyone or anything to be able to hurt the devil, and even though pain is not as much of a novelty as it used to be, it's still enough of one to merit some investigation.
He walks through rooms, guided by whether the pain dulls or increases as he does. He figures if there's any rhyme or reason to it, he will eventually run into the cause. ]
2. Piano bar.
[ Eventually, he gets bored of looking into the mysterious ticking noise, and the Clock provides him with a lounge bar— it is nothing like his bar in LA, but there's a piano and that's all he wants at the moment.
He plays Knockin' On Heaven's Door because there's nothing Satan enjoys more than irony. He is a very skilled, heartfelt musician. ]
3. Choose Your Own Adventure.
[ YOLO or hit me up here or on
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He'd rather get his drink on in peace. Whatever was going on, it was getting old fast. Playing comfort-man to a bunch of near strangers was bad enough, but the situation with Mick was worse. Leonard was his partner. If anyone should be there for him, to comfort him and make sure he doesn't take anyone's head off, it should be him. But it wasn't. Can't be. Not without hurting Mick.
He sidles over to the baby grand and leans against it, watching as he nurses his drink until Lucifer is done the song. ]
You weren't lying about the piano.
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eddie thawne | dctv | ota
The ticking doesn't really change his schedule much, aside from a lot more wandering when he's hearing it, looking for some relief from the headache. His extra wandering will take him pretty much everywhere - the beach, the rose garden (however reluctantly), the bar, the Library, pretty much anywhere, all punctuated by pretty regular trips back to Lux for fresh cups of coffee in hopes that the caffeine will relieve some of the tension.]
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And what's even more not cool? It's getting worse.
It's making her want to bash her own brains in. Which is, you know, not productive.
So her only gambit right now is to try to distract herself from it. She's in the library, looking at the collection of comic books. It's been forever since she read any, and she used to really love them. But no matter how hard she tries, she can't quite get her brain to focus. It's like forgetting how to parse the panels. And she finds herself just staring blankly at the page on her lap, dangerously close to bloody and gross tears.]
Fuck you, Clock.
[Not a productive thing to say. But it's her way.]
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