segaboybrodie: (Knock knock Brodie.)
[personal profile] segaboybrodie
One of the good things about Deadpool disappearing was that Brodie had a whole fucking room to himself. Well, the other half of the room was mostly full of comics he'd pilfered from the bookshelf, but it was the thought that counted. No more of him randomly popping up just when Brodie was thinking rubbing one out, or when he was finally getting around to cataloging his bookshelf finds for the day.

That fucker was GREAT in the comics, but in real life? Brodie wanted to take one of his goddamn Liefeld pouches and shove it down his fucking throat.

Brodie'd been dreaming about just such a thing- complete with his own yellow word bubbles that told the reader just what he thought about having his space INVADED- when he felt something stir next to him.

...if that fucker was back and in HIS BED, Brodie was going to FLIP HIS SHIT. Fucking Deadpool or not, scar-face was gonna hear about how fucking WRONG it was to cuddle up to people without their permission. Jesus fucking Christ, what if he'd been sporting morning wood? Sleeping JUNK TO JUNK with Wade Wilson wasn't exactly on Brodie's island to-do list.

He woke up with a start, ready to school Deadpool on the rules of male sleeping arrangements, when he noticed something was awry. Not only was he NOT laying next to Deadpool, but he wasn't even in his room in the compound. The only comics in the room were neatly organized in boards, bags and boxes, and comic posters littered the walls.

HOLY SHIT. HE WAS HOME!

He barely even noticed that his basement room was much less empty than it should have been, and instead started looking around for his sega controller. He could probably still continue his game.

Hartford and the Whale, friends. Hartford and the Whale.

Date: 2009-08-01 05:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
Rogue recognized, if only vaguely, the smell of basement. She burrowed a little deeper into the half-flat pillow and the squishy but not particularly well cushioned comforter. It was possible she felt a zipper with her toes.

"Nnmh," she breathed, through her nose, using her toes to tug the legs of her pajama pants down over the tops of her feet. The over-sized t-shirt paired with soccer pants had seemed like a great idea in last night's air conditioning, and she usually ended up with the sheets flung off anyway, but not she felt over-warm. She didn't want to move, though, so it was a tough call whether to remove the articles of clothing or not.

Then again, the presence of a war body beside her probably meant someone else would be happy to remove them for her.

Wait. Did Spike spend th'night?

She frowned a little, waking up more, albeit against her will. Something in the situation was fundamentally wrong.

Date: 2009-08-10 06:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] segaboybrodie.livejournal.com
"ROGUE. WAKE THE FUCK UP." Brodie called from his spot on the bed, once he'd finally gotten his shit together and realized just what had gone down, "You're not going to BELIEVE this shit."

It HAD to be like when he'd gone back with Rogue and The Other Jamie that one time. Except now he didn't have to worry about fucking monk dupes.

If Brodie ever saw that fucker again, it would only be too soon.

Date: 2009-08-10 06:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
Her eyes snapped open. She stared at nothing for a minute, before twisting her body down and pushing herself up to sit back on her knees, a few steps past disheveled.

"What?!" She paused, taking in the room, and the company, and her eyes got wider.

"The heck?" she added.

Date: 2009-08-11 06:23 am (UTC)
thedevilhisdue: ([comic] Rogue - Better times)
From: [personal profile] thedevilhisdue
Something's wrong here. Now I'm not exactly a stranger to waking up in weird places, but usually I can remember how I got dere after a few seconds. And not remembering how I got to be in a sleeping bag on someone's floor wit' Rogue of all people... dat just strikes me as a damn tragedy. Even if we ain't quite alone.

Something's still very wrong here. But dere's no sense in getting all worked up about it until I know just what dat something is, non? Best to just take stock o' t'ings for now.

"Mornin', chère," I say, rolling over to get in close. Maybe she'll know more den me, maybe she won't. Either way, might as well enjoy de moment.

Date: 2009-08-11 06:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
"Mmn," she replied, the mark between her eyebrows smoothing out, scooting back a little into the solid warmth behind her. That was better, the familiar voice and smell overriding the less tangible idea of the unfamiliar place she was in. Settling, she sighed, quietly, until most of her breath was gone and ready to fall back into the slow rhythm of sleeping.

"Mornin', sugar," she mumbled, voice rough enough from sleep that the syllables barely made it out. It wasn't that pressing an issue.

Until something about the sound of her own voice made her reconsider the sound of his and then she frowned, blinking, and turned her head to see who it was she was canoodling with, precisely, and then she was extremely awake.

"...What are you doin'?"

Date: 2009-08-12 09:48 am (UTC)
thedevilhisdue: ([comic] Rogue - Third and final)
From: [personal profile] thedevilhisdue
Dat first part is something an homme could get used to, given de right circumstances. Unfortunately, dese ain't de right circumstances by a long shot.

"Same as you, I'd wager," I say, propping my head up on my arm. "Wakin' up to a very welcome sight."

So dat'd be a big fat non on her knowing more den me on what's going down just yet. Time to start exploring other options.

Date: 2009-08-12 09:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
She swallowed, hard, flushing and not pulling away much but sure as heck not getting any closer.

"Says you," she said, voice wavering.

"Where are awe?"

Date: 2009-08-12 10:02 am (UTC)
thedevilhisdue: ([DH] Shadowy)
From: [personal profile] thedevilhisdue
Now, I really don't want to wreck de moment here, but... well, it's a question dat really needs an answer. One I don't exactly got.

Casually, I reach over to brush a bit of hair out of her face, nothing untoward 'bout it or anything. "Dat," I say pointedly, making a bit of a face, "is a very good question, one dat I was hoping you might be able to help me out wit', chère."

Date: 2009-08-12 10:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
Her lashes fluttered. She didn't mean for them to, they just did, all on their ownsome.

"Ain't got a clue."

Date: 2009-08-14 09:13 am (UTC)
thedevilhisdue: ([comic] Rogue - Third and final)
From: [personal profile] thedevilhisdue
"I was afraid of dat," I say with a sigh which borders on the dramatic side of things. Hell, it's all I can really do to keep my cool with her batting her eyes like dat.

"Not dat I particularly want to ruin de moment, Rogue, but we should probably do something about dat, non?"

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Date: 2009-08-05 05:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com
Spike wakes up in a very uncomfortable place.

It's not where he went to sleep, which isn't a first but is a first in a while, but he comes to pretty damned fast when he needs to.

He's in the backseat of a car, although he's not sure it should even be allowed to be called a backseat. His legs don't come close to fitting and as a result he's folded in on himself like a pretzel, so he wakes up with his own knee practically in his nose.

He grunts, and squirms his way out of the car, dusting himself off and looking up and down the street.

This is new. This isn't a tropical island. That's... new, and that's about as far as his feelings get on the matter right now.

He looks left. He looks right. He picks left, and he keeps an ear out. He's got sharp senses, and good instincts, and that's what leads him to the tiny window.

He slides through, feet first, and offers up a, "Huh," when he sees who's all assembled there.

Date: 2009-08-10 05:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
Rogue was pissed. She was flustered, out of sorts, her head... hurt... and she was just pissed.

"Ah thought mah room was a sty but this place is awful. Brodie," she said like a curse, exasperated, waving two fistfuls of dirty t-shirts, "there has got t'be somethin' clean that I can-"

And then, all long limbs and nonchalance, her boyfriend came through the window.

".....Spike," she observed, eyes wide, hands dropping to her sides. Well, better at this moment than any previous.

Definitely coma weekend, then. She thought she'd understood how that worked. There were reasons Jamie had dragged her and Brodie along with him. Her boyfriend, here, though...

She glanced over at Brodie and shot him a strange look.
Edited Date: 2009-08-10 05:36 am (UTC)

Date: 2009-08-10 05:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com
Well, that's something, at least. More than least, actually.

"This place is a dump," he announces, not immediately explaining whether he's referring to the basement, the neighbourhood, the town or the planet.

Partly because he tends not to explain right away, and partly because he's looking dubiously, head cocked, at the guy on the ceiling.

Date: 2009-08-10 05:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
"Oh," she said, chucking a shirt at their host, "we'd noticed. I'd been wantin' t'get offa th'island for a spell, but Jersey wasn't exactly my number one choice for a vacation."

Date: 2009-08-10 05:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com
"Where the hell is Jersey?" Spike grumps, attempting to make his way over to Rogue by stepping over people and obstacles, long legs picking their way through like a daddy long-legs walking on water.

Date: 2009-08-10 05:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
"New York's backyard," she answered, sighing and crossing her arms.

"Earth, way back. 'fore your time," she teased.

Date: 2009-08-10 05:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com
"So the whole planet's a dump, and we can't get off?" Spike says, looking disgruntled and apparently failing to note that being before his time means that it's not the same Earth he's used to.

Date: 2009-08-10 06:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] un-gloved.livejournal.com
"It ain't a dump," she protested, frowning at him. "'least not once y'get outside o'Jersey."

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Date: 2009-08-08 09:50 pm (UTC)
daretodo: ([axm] BAMF!)
From: [personal profile] daretodo
The problem's not where I wake up -- in somebody's basement -- so much as it's how I wake up.

First of all, I'm in costume, which is definitely not what I fell asleep in last night. I mean, it's been months since I pulled out the Spidey suit, so why I'd wear to bed makes little to no sense. Don't get me wrong, the thing's deceptively comfortable and all, but it's not exactly the sorta thing you sleep in, yanno?

Second of all, I'm in a hammock. A hammock made of web. A hammock made of web that I don't remember making. A hammock made of web that I don't remember making in a basement I've never seen before.

Third of all, I wake up because my spider-sense is tin-- Wait, that's not right. Well, it is right, but it hasn't been right ever since I landed myself on the poor man’s Savage Land. And now that I think about it, I shouldn't be able to even see I'm in a basement I’ve never seen before, because I'm not wearing my glasses.

But why my spider-sense is tingling's probably the most important thing, here, because fourth and last of all, I'm sandwiched in between Mary Jane -- which is fine --and Johnny Storm -- which is definitely not.

I jump so high I end up on the ceiling, looking down at the two of them.

"Dude! Why did you get to be the big spoon?!"

Date: 2009-08-09 04:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heatedrod.livejournal.com
Waking up next to someone and not remembering going to bed with that someone's cool and all -- not like Johnny hasn't done it in the past -- but usually they wait until he's actually awake to start yelling at him.

Or he's flying off before they can get a chance to.

Johnny blinks groggily, seeing Spider-Man stuck to his ceiling. He really needs to work on how much time he spends around Peter, because dreaming that is just wrong. "Cause I'm fantastic," he mutters, not realizing he's actually said it because he's rolling over and bumping shoulder to shoulder with another body.

"Huh."

Things start to piece together pretty rapidly for Johnny after that -- especially the part where Peter's on the ceiling because they had woken up cuddling in a spider web with Johnny only in his -- he took a quick glance down -- Fantastic Four boxers.

"Soooo..." Johnny takes advantage of the spider web rolling him closer to MJ and stays where he is as he looks up at the ceiling. "Morning?"

Date: 2009-08-09 06:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] getemtiger.livejournal.com
For her part, Mary Jane was half-asleep enough to not have noticed anything wrong until Peter was suddenly not beside her, and another body was. Far too disoriented to make any sense of it, she rubbed her eyes, looking up at Peter -- who she was certain hadn't been wearing his costume, the last time she'd checked -- and then rolling over to find herself facing Johnny, which was just weird. That they were in some strange web hammock was really the least of her concerns.

"Didn't know Pete was into this," she mumbled sleepily, stretching her arms up over her head. "But I can't say I blame him." Glancing back up at the ceiling again, she asked, "Why are you dressed and he isn't?"

Date: 2009-08-09 06:22 am (UTC)
daretodo: ([smm] Eat web!)
From: [personal profile] daretodo
"Mary Jane!" I say, and for a second I swear I sound just like Aunt May. 'Cause if there's one thing I'm not into, it's having Johnny's human torch anywhere near me or MJ.

But you know what the best thing about having powers again is? The amazing combination of sensational reflexes and spectacular strength. Without so much as another a second's thought, I fire a web at Johnny, yanking him up and out of the hammock.

"This is so not cool."

Date: 2009-08-09 06:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heatedrod.livejournal.com
"HEY!" If anyone's managed to still be asleep in the crowded basement, they probably aren't now, and Johnny isn't making any apologies. "Dude, this is your webbing, I just woke up in it."

Without really thinking about it -- or the fact that he isn't on the ground -- Johnny grabs the webbing where he can and burns through it.

Leaving gravity to do her dirty work. "Ow."

Before Peter can say anything, Johnny flings a tiny fireball up toward the ceiling at him. "Not cool, dude!"

Date: 2009-08-09 07:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] segaboybrodie.livejournal.com
"HEY!" Brodie shouted up at the web-encased three-way currently going on near his ceiling. "Would you guys chill the fuck--HOLY SHIT."

And then he realized exactly WHO was near his ceiling. Goddamn Spider-Man, in the costume, no less. Mary Jane. The fucking HUMAN TORCH. Yeah, his bedroom was fucking crowded from all the tag-alongs from Shit Pit Island, but the last place Brodie had thought to look was up on the goddamned ceiling.

He was glad he hadn't gotten around to finally putting a mirror up there.

It'd been a thought. Renee had told him it was gross. What did SHE know, anyway?

Date: 2009-08-09 07:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] getemtiger.livejournal.com
If Peter's pulling Johnny out of the net wasn't enough to get Mary Jane fully awake, then the fireball absolutely was. Blinking a few times, she sat up as much as she could, glancing down at Brodie -- and the rest of the fairly crowded basement -- when he spoke. This definitely wasn't what she would have expected when she went to sleep the night before.

"And then maybe get me out of here?" she asked, feigning cheerfulness, waving one hand as if to get attention. "Kind of stuck up here."

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segaboybrodie: (Default)
Brodie Bruce

December 2010

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