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29 Chimera Court, Wednesday Morning

This was definitely not Steph's brand new dorm room in Seattle. That was obvious from before she opened her eyes and saw the drum kit (whose was that, even?), because she couldn't hear Ollie snoring from the other side of the room, and while the shelves full of TTRPG sourcebooks would be reassuring half the editions on there shouldn't even exist yet.

Also this bed was bigger than her standard-dorm-issue twin XL, and... she was definitely not alone in it.

"Uh," she said, and in order to sit up and blink in confusion at the definitely very cute girl next to her she had to extricate herself from the girl's almost octopus-like embrace, and while she kind of didn't want to she had no idea where she was. Not that she hadn't been hoping to hook up with a few cute girls as soon as she got to campus, but she should have remembered the leadup to this. Right?

"Where the hell am I?"

[OOC: Yeah, I could not bring myself to make her think she was back in Arcadia Bay so we'll just scoot riiiight past the edge of that. For the girl who definitely doesn't live here, really. Also pretend I had the time/energy to actually make some icons from Before the Storm, la la.]

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Creepy, Fairly Lived In Mansion, Slightly Past Dawn, Wednesday Morning

Lili woke up not in her own bed, nor in her own bedchamber. Either of them; for all that it felt familiar, she knew very well that this wasn't her room in the manor where she was staying with Lady Ana, nor at the Fortress, where the rest of her family was staying. She was somewhere else entirely.

But again, somewhere familiar. It felt like a word dancing on the tip of her tongue; she could almost grasp it, but then it wriggled back out of her grip again.

...She did rather wish it were her room; it was far more luxurious than anything she'd ever seen in Vess.

It was right about then that she realized that she wasn't alone in the bed. "Serra's holy name!" she sputtered--which hadn't been the words she'd been thinking, but they were the ones that had come out anyway. "Hey! Who are--"

Wait. She knew this boy. Memories of trips to a weird island when she'd been a girl..."Ignis? Urzas's left eye, it's you!"

[For the young man so named, of course, but also very open!

Stark Tower, But Make It Smaller [Monday night]

Steve had given up trying not to taste apple pie and so he was just having other things that went with apple pie!

Or at least that was the excuse he was giving himself for why he was in the kitchen devouring a half-gallon of ice cream.

[OOC: for the husband!]

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Lucifer's Penthouse and then Beyond, Saturday

The last few months had been exhausting. Everything about LA, the threat of his apparent daughter and his apparent abandonment of her, and Lucifer hadn't even managed to figure out how to get Dan off of Earth yet.

Well. Apparently the man had now figured out how to possess people, so Lucifer supposed that made his life easier.

But day after day had crept by, and now they were close - so close - to the day he was meant to, apparently, father a daughter and then disappear. And what was he doing? Stalking back and forth through his apartment, drinking. He couldn't even relax enough to make this time with Octavia and Duke worth it.

He eyed the clock.

He stalked.

He took another heavy swig straight from the bottle.

[[ for two, and we are going to try and get through this horrifically stupid finale as fast as possible. ]]

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Wiz Chocobo Post and Surrounding Environs; Duscae, Eos; Saturday, Fandom Time

Listen, nobody needed to make a big deal about it or anything, but Liliana could, very rarely, bestir herself to rise in the (ugh) morning if she had sufficient reason to do so. And today she did, which was why she had, with a minimal amount of reluctance, woken up while Ignis was still dressing for the day and accompanied him out of their suite.

No, it wasn't because the bros were heading off for a day of fishing and reminiscences. If it were simply that, she would have thoroughly said goodbye to Ignis the night before and slept until noon without thinking twice about it. But, this was Duscae. Which meant there were chocobos to ride, swamps and the Nebulawood to explore, spiracorns and mesmenirs to ~~befriend~~ admire, and, most importantly, tombs to explore. Royal tombs. Who could sleep in with all that on their plate? It would be like sleeping in at Christmas!

So enjoy your fishing time, gentlemen. There was plenty here to do in your absence!

[A catch-all post for the folks what are in Eos! Who knows who will have time to ping into it because, lol, free time, but it's here for anyone with an idea and a few minutes here and there to play! NFB for distance]

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From Harley Quinn's Apartment To Robinson Park, Saturday Evening

Harley wasn't much of a cook. She knew how to slap a burger together, sure, and how to pick up take-out, but bless her, if you asked her to make anything else, you were in for a bad time. So Pam, who cared about sourcing - and nutrition, Harls - a lot more than her girlfriend did, had found herself the assigned cook of the Quinn-Isley household.

She'd been working on a stew that evening, paying herself the chef's tax by pouring one glass of red wine for the stew and one glass of red wine for herself. Stirring. Sipping. Occasionally checking on one of the many houseplants she'd added to the apartment over the past month, and--

"Pammy!"

Harley burst through the door, half-crouching like she expected something to jump out at her any moment.

Pam blinked, looking up towards the entrance. ( Harley, what's the matter? )

[[ taken from Harley Quinn #36 by Tini Howard and Sweeney Boo and Poison Ivy #18 by G. Willow Wilson and Luana Vecchio. ]]

Muunilinst- Friday

( Earlier this week they'd gotten the call from Tahiri that they'd found the people responsible. Jaina had left right away to deal with it, and then Jag had left the boys with Anakin to go home for the first time in months. )

[Ever been halfway to asleep and realize you never hit post and then have to get up to do it? Me either. NFB, NFI.]

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Not far from Steven's apartment in London, Friday afternoon

Nobody needing to clock in at work meant the schedule on who had the body could be more flexible. Handy for things like Steven and Watts making sure Arden had her birthday gift (a detail Marc was not engaging with in any way whatsoever), Marc checking in on Illyana, and even Marc dealing with a text of his own.

It was also handy for Marc to bring Watts over to the place he'd just bought. It wasn't too far from Steven's building, an easy walk without feeling like a hike. They headed over after lunch, Marc keeping an eye out to make sure Watts didn't accidentally get hit by any vehicles as they crossed the streets.

When they got to the building itself, Marc stopped outside so Watts could take it in. It was a standalone building. Two floors tall. Mixed use. It'd formerly been an accounting office on the bottom and an apartment up top. There was a garage in the back if you went down the alley to get to it.

The blip had fucked up who had an ownership claim so it'd been sitting under a pile of legal bullshit ever since everyone came back. Eventually all parties involved had decided to give up on it and split the cost of a sale. Which was where Marc and his ability to pay in cash came in.

"Safe home sweet safe home," Marc said, gesturing at the place.

[for the guy he lives with]

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Wiz Chocobo Post; Duscae, Eos; Friday [08/29 FT].

Wiz Forlane might have been long gone by now, but Wiz Chocobo Post, post-war, post-Long Night, post New Dawn, was thriving. Settled on the edge of the misty Nebulawood of the Duscae region just outside of New Insomnia, with the Disc of Cauthess looming nearby, far colder than it used to be, what had used to be just a small outpost dedicated to renting (and sometimes racing!) chocobos to travelers had become a bit of an institution. Without the worries of war and the plight of Starscourge making travel safe at any time of day or night, the place had thrived under Camilla's new ownership in the past two years, building a more comfortable inn for visitors and expanding the legacy that Wiz had left behind. And this weekend, where all across Eos, people were celebrating the birthday of the Last King of Lucis, it was also incredibly busy.

Something that Ignis had not expected, although, in retrospect, he supposed he should have.

Either way, he had been proactive in assuring that they'd all had rooms at the hotel, and as they found their way to the Post from their portal, he had to admit, there was something incredibly reassuring about it. The last time they'd been here, the place had been all but abandoned, and now there were families and couples, individual travelers and chocobo enthusiasts; down by the Neeglyss Pond, their main fishing spot for this trip, he could already hear the Catoblepas trudging through the water, and it filled him with a sort of...pride. His relationship with Eos as of late may have been a difficult, complicated thing, and as much as he was coming to terms with the fact that it had given him so little compared to how much he'd given up for her, it felt good to know that it was healing. That all that he had given wasn't completely for naught.

Especially on this weekend.

"Well, then," he announced to his assembled group of companions, "and now we've arrived."

And now he just waited for the inevitable squeal from Noctra the moment she spotted one of the actual chocobos.

....or Prompto, too, for that matter.

[[ for thems that are there with him! And NFB for distance, of course! ]]

Around the Mainland; So Late Thursday Night It's Actually Friday

As established, Harley now had a great big bland-looking van.

But that was not all: Harley also had an accomplice! No, not the kid this time, because Cass had begged off on the basis of having gotten her little life's worth of dusty antique shops in just scouting all of them over the past couple of weeks, and also because Harley had need of someone who actually knew how to drive and who had a smidge more experience breaking into places.

So... She'd ~~handwavily~~ roped in Remy.

And now the van, Remy, Harley, and the whispersilk cloak currently still shoved into a bag were all nearing their first target, an antique shop in a part of town that was probably relatively quiet even when it wasn't the dead of night - and when it was, well... It really was dead out there. No movement along the street outside of the van itself.

Perfect conditions for the start of a heist!

"Okay, we should be... two blocks out," Harley said from the passenger side, surveying her map - yes, a physical one with squiggles and notes all over it. "Ca-- my associate says there's an alley on the left side of the place? With a side door into the building. That's how we get the goods."

(NFB because off the island again, and for the fellow criminal modded in the post)

Paris, France - Wednesday Evening

They'd spent time in Dublin and it'd been great, but Tony had an idea and that idea involved a bakery that they clearly needed to own in Paris. Which made sense only to him. But, unfortunately for everyone else, Steve was indulging him on this whim.

Which mostly ended up meaning visiting a baker's dozen (ha) of them to try out the wares. Well, Steve was trying out the wares because Tony was but a mortal man. Who had a cup of coffee at each place and whichever treat that Steve deemed the best of the bunch.

"Okay, next up..." Tony muttered, looking at the street signs to get his bearings again as they exited the last stop.

[for the husband!]

On the Mainland; Late Wednesday Evening

Heist time was approaching! And for that, Harley had need of a mode of transportation that could hold a lot more stuff than the Chevelle she kept wishy-washying about whether to keep or not. A mode of transportation like, say, a huge van. Which was exactly what she'd gone out shopping for that fantastic Wednesday night!

Well, "shopping". Look, she couldn't be blamed if someone just happened to leave a convenient van just laying around just right out on the street, all alone and ripe for the taking for someone with the right skill set. If anything, Harley was doing the poor thing a favor! She was going to take it on an adventure!

So, long story short: now, Harley had a van.

( just one small problem )

(NFB because it's off the island, establishy!)

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The Flat In London, Wednesday Late Afternoon Until Evening

Marc's stuff had been pretty easy to take care of. They could've put it off if Illyana needed them to stick close by. But she swore she didn't and Marc figured may as well get it over with since he'd booked the appointments already.

Nothing urgent. Just some things he had to look at personally, including some property he was debating investing in. Yeah, place was a dump. But it was in the neighborhood and would be somewhere he could stash things other than in Steven's apartment. Maybe even put a car or something in the garage space it had too.

On the way back he ~~handwavily~~ texted Watts to see if he needed anything. Then checked in with Illyana.

Watts reminded him they needed vegetables for their dinner, so Marc stopped for groceries on the way back. He debated getting a steak for himself but figured if he came out again while they were still in London he could always order something.

After that he headed back, taking the ancient elevator up to their floor and letting himself into the apartment.

"It's us," he said, as he came in.

Mind the cat! Steven said from the mirror by the doorway.

Right, they had the cat with them. Marc kept an eye out to make sure it didn't get out while he closed the door behind him.

[for the guy who is in the apartment]

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Harley Quinn's Apartment, Gotham City, Early Tuesday Morning

Harley hadn't been there last night. But Pam was hurting, more fragile than she'd like. (Or maybe she needed the comfort.) So she'd come home anyway. Slipped under the covers. Buried her nose in Harley's pillow.

She jerked awake to the sound of a voice - "Ivy?" - in the middle of the night. It was still dark, shadows playing over the many pieces of random furniture that sat around Harley's bedroom. The door creaked open beside a mounted tentacle and revealed a little clown girl dressed in checkered print and desperation.

"Harley?" Pam said, half-sitting up. Relief slid over her like pleasant spring rains. "I'm so glad you came back. I... know you need your space sometimes. I was worried. But I promise, I trust you'll be okay."

The bed dipped as Harley crawled onto the covers on her hands and knees. "I'm sorry I said you were better off without me."

"Thank you," Pam said, reaching for her cheek to draw her in. "Because I know I really wouldn't be."

What would she do without sunlight in her life? Moulder and wallow in the dark.

Harley wrapped her arms around her and wriggled her way under the covers. "Ugh. I don't want anyone but you to look at me for a few days."

"Not gonna ask," Pam promised. "But happy to oblige. Now get your street clothes off the bed and c'mere."

She had a lot of stories to tell, but they could wait.

[[ taken from Harley Quinn #34 by Tini Howard and Sweeney Boo. And now y'all get a little bit of a break from all the Ivy on the timeline. ]]

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Midnight Manor, Room 1D. Fandom Island. Late Tuesday Night [8/26]

It was mid-to-late evening, Fandom time, when Illyana finally returned to Midnight, intending to hit the shower since she was rather covered in, well, goo and looked like she'd been through a war zone.

The perils of being an active Sorcerer Supreme. On the bright side, no more cultists, AND she'd gotten out a lot of her frustration over the interaction with Peter earlier!

( Stephen was not a fan of how much fun she and Clea had while solving this particular problem, but he'd get over it. If there was ever a place where Violence was the question and the answer, it was the Dark Dimension. )

[OOC: NFB. TW: Marvel (emotional trauma, NPC deaths). Midnight modded with permission. OCD UP FOR THE RESIDENTS OF MIDNIGHT MANOR, although I will be crashing out shortly.]

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Edinburgh, Scotland. Earth-18133, Tuesday Morning Fandom-Time [NFB, NFI]

Across all the fragments of the multiverse, events shift and change as a million stories breathe and flex and push their way forward into the light. A different choice, a different chance, and the shards of possibility break further apart into new timelines, new worlds, new paths.

And yet, some universal constants remain: death, gravity, taxes... certain events that are fixed points, perhaps not in time, but in the lifeblood of a universe. Sometimes, they were simply...delayed. Out of sync from one universe to the next, perhaps, but inevitable all the same as sand sliding through the hourglass of events. Waiting. Waiting.

Here.

( Illyana Nikolievena Rasputina was used to being a girl out-of-time. )

[OOC: NFB, NFI, adapted from The Uncanny X-Men #225 : False Dawn. That's right, it's time for THE FALL OF THE MUTANTS for Earth-18133!

You didn't think I was going to let Illyana escape this particular trauma unscathed, did you?]

Needful Things Building to Ink, Holes & Smoke; Monday Morning into Afternoon

After yet another restless night, Harley woke with a start.

And then immediately sank back down with a groan, because Christ, her nightmares really did love to just run reruns on her, didn't they? Mr J and an operating table this, Belle Reve straitjacket bullshit that, it was all just the same shit on a loop for ever and ever, regardless of the specific intricate psychological context of the waking hours that was pulling them back out into rotation in the first place. The lack of imagination was honestly insulting, at this point.

She stretched her arms above her head and blinked the sleepy blur out of her eyes, and looked at the room.

... The living room slash kitchen situation, yes, where she was lying on the couch under a pile of blankets. Despite Pam's best intentions, Harley had still not made any moves towards restoring the bedroom back into a habitable environment. Or the rest of the apartment, either. Takeaway trash kept piling up, and almost every bit of furniture was placed awkwardly in ill-fitting spots, like the way the couch itself continued to halfway block the bathroom door. Cans and candy wrappers and empty bags of nachos kept getting underfoot every time Harley moved around the apartment.

In essence:

( time to clean a real shithole of a dump )

(establishy!)

Current Music: 'Versions of Violence', Alanis Morissette

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Slaughter Swamp, Monday

Pam was trying, really hard, to give Harley her space. To not take it personally. To not give into the urge to call Harley-not-Harley and beg her, pathetically, for advice. (Admittedly, considering her habit of keeping her own counsel, that one was less difficult than the other two. Still, it was a thought that kept nudging at her.)

Her side also wouldn't stop hurting. But she ignored that.

She ignored all of it. In fact, to make sure her focus was on this, and nothing else, she'd moved some of her lab equipment into the shed at Slaughter Swamp. Fandom had provided too many distractions, and she was running against a clock she couldn't even see. She needed more of the antidote, and fast, and she wasn't sure that her blood could provide enough of it to protect Gotham City when her fungus came to roost.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, even Slaughter Swamp was full of constant interruptions...

( Are you havin' a barbecue in here or somethin'? Smells weird. )

[[ taken and adapted from Poison Ivy #18 and #19 by G. Willow Wilson, Luana Vecchio and Marcio Takara, and a little bit from Harley Quinn #34 by Tini Howard and Sweeney Boo because if you got overlapping integrated canon then you use it ]]

Dublin, Ireland, Sunday Evening

Well, the homes in Austria and Greece were both still under construction with a more defensive mindset after AIM attacked one of them. And Tony had (needlessly) promised Steve a vacation for the little break between classes.

Which was why he'd surprised him with a trip to Dublin!

Look, Tony had this need to be Tony sometimes and it was best to just let him get it all out there. Otherwise you ended up with giant teddy bears and rooms filled with roses. Sorry not sorry, Steve.

"How do you like the room?" Tony asked, setting his bag down.

[for the guy on SP]

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Harley Quinn's Apartment, Gotham City, Saturday Night to Sunday Morning

It had been a long couple of weeks. But Harley - her Harley - was back; that, if anything, could put Harley-not-Harley out of Pam's mind and put a smile on her face. She dashed through the door as soon as she saw those telltale blonde-blue-red ponytails draped over the sofa. "Hey, squeaky," she said, grinning, and put her knees on the couch. "Since I'm here this weekend, and don't feel like cooking, shall we dress up and get dinner at that Quraci place down the street?"

Harley had talked about it before. And she loved dressing up. So--

...

( But there was no reaction from the lump on the couch. )

[[ nfb, nfi. taken and adapted from Harley Quinn #33 by Tini Howard and Sweeney Boo.