Melanie King (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ghostbullet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2025-01-03 06:05 pm
ghostbullet) wrote in ph_logs2025-01-03 06:05 pm
[OPEN] January Catch-All
Who: Melanie King (ghostbullet), Daisy Tonner (hadnoright), Alice Dyer (closureisformovies), CT (liesdontfindyou) & you!
What: Catch-All for Blue's character
When: January, and some backdated December stuff
Where: All over! See character prompt headers.
Warnings: In specific headers where relevant.
Melanie, Daisy, Alice and CT all have open prompts in the comments. More may be added, depending on if anything gives me reason to/I think of anything else worth putting up. Closed starters are also available upon request if these prompts don't work but you want to do something!
Ruby Rose and Gwen Stacy have their own open top-levels at the links that I'm also still very open to tags on.
ghostbullet), Daisy Tonner (hadnoright), Alice Dyer (closureisformovies), CT (liesdontfindyou) & you!What: Catch-All for Blue's character
When: January, and some backdated December stuff
Where: All over! See character prompt headers.
Warnings: In specific headers where relevant.
Melanie, Daisy, Alice and CT all have open prompts in the comments. More may be added, depending on if anything gives me reason to/I think of anything else worth putting up. Closed starters are also available upon request if these prompts don't work but you want to do something!
Ruby Rose and Gwen Stacy have their own open top-levels at the links that I'm also still very open to tags on.
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(That... probably isn't much better than ma'am-ing Daisy, is it. Oh well!)
To Daisy, he adds, "You been out here long?"
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(It's a little better. It's usually 'Miss Tonner' if she's getting 'Miss'ed, at least. She'll take at least her first name being used.)
Daisy digs her shovel back into the snow and blows hair out of her face. "Thanks," she says, first, before actually answering: "A while? Lot of snow. Helps that I don't get tired."
Not from something like this, anyway.
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Hilda, having chomped down the jerky, starts trying to squirm her way into Radar's arms to investigate his other pockets. Radar just laughs and gathers her up, keeping hold as he clambers back to standing.
"That's gotta be useful. I'd get way more done if I never got tired, and I bet I wouldn't start mixing up silk gauges and have to double-check 'em three times, either." A pause, then, curious: "Is that 'cause of the, um...?"
He's got no idea how to phrase the weird murdery Hunt stuff politely, so he just kinda trails off there.
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Daisy tosses another shovelful of snow over into the out-of-the-way piles. Shrugs. "Pretty much. Get a lot of physical perks being like this. Not really worth the price of admission. But I can't pretend I'd go back."
For a lot of reasons, at this point, but the idea of going back to being only mundanely strong isn't an appealing one.
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"I guess if you're used to it by now, it'd be funny not having it anymore," he says. "You know, sometimes I wonder if my ears are gonna be like that when I get back home. Or not really my ears, I guess, not all of it, but there's stuff I'm learning here I don't know if I'm gonna be able to do someplace with no magic."
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Daisy only makes a vague, affirmative noise at first, digging the shovel back into the uncleared snow—then she remembers his comment on her hearing back after the gala, and straightens up a bit.
"That got anything to do with you wanting to ask about my hearing, before?"
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Right, yeah, their conversation after the gala. Considering Radar was nursing a migraine and three-quarters asleep on his feet, it's a miracle he remembers any of it at all.
"Yeah." He smiles, a little tentative. "I know my hearing's not hearing, always, but some of it is, you know? So when you were talking about how good yours was I just... wondered. Is all."
Hilda squirms in his arms and tries to lick his ear. Radar squirms, too, snickering, but allows it.
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Daisy nods, and doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, "I can hear about— five to ten miles out. Depends. And it's not like it's clear all the way out. Or even closer. Lot of noise. Learned to tune most of it out. Don't like listening in on people."
Not that she's never used it to her advantage—it helps when you're tracking down a target, and occasionally it's even been helpful in knowing when someone she cares about needs help. But she's never been the nosy type.
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What's that gotta be like, hearing so far you could maybe hear straight across the front if you wanted? For a second, he almost wishes he could. Think of all the extra lives the 4077th could save if they knew the fighting was getting bad as soon as it happened, not having to wait for the aid station to call for help or a general to notify them a push was going on.
But...
"I get that too, with the noise," he admits. "I mostly know what I gotta pay attention to and what I don't, so I don't notice it too much, neither, but... yeah, sometimes it's bad, huh? Like if I'm drunk or I been up for seventy-two hours straight. Then I can't sort it out too well anymore." He chuckles. "And boy would people look at me funny when I was real little and hadn't figured it all out yet -- what I oughta be hearing and what I shouldn't let people know I could hear, I mean."
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"Mm. Wolf ears," she says by way of explanation for the sheer distance. Five miles in woodland, ten miles in open territory, and all the shades in-between.
She snorts at the thought of a tiny little kid who keeps letting on that he heard all the things people really don't want overheard. "Mine only started in my twenties. Helped skip the blabbing without thinking stage. But living in a city big and noisy as London? It was learn to tune it out or go nuts. Had a lot of headaches first couple years, mind."
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He wrinkles his nose.
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"Fucking demons," Daisy grumbles. "Worst headache of my life in that casino."
Not that it had anything to do with her heightened senses, but the less said to most people about how painful it was to have her ability to commit violence restricted so completely, the better.
"Least Mendel's tricks are mostly off the table."
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Radar hesitates. In his arms, Hilda wriggles around until she can plant her paws on his shoulder, giving his hat a thorough sniffing to see if it might have some treats hidden inside, too.
"I don't think his stuff's all the way gone, though," he says at last, reluctant. "Did you know some of the demons can kinda... I dunno. Pass their powers on to somebody else when they die?"
He doesn't know if that's entirely what happened with Dr. de Kuiper, but it's close enough.
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Daisy blinks, jabs her shovel into the ground and leans on it. "Nope. That's news to me. That's happened?"
That's... dangerous, in the wrong hands. If there's such thing as the right hands. In her experience with similar power, there isn't so much good people to have it than there is less-bad.
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He taps the shell of one ear for emphasis. (Well, as best he can while Hilda's still squirming around in his arms.)
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"Hhhuh." Her gaze becomes sort of unfocused, like she's too distracted and staring into space.
Trying to decide what to make of that. How many demons can be succeeded like that? Not the big guys, surely.
"...might be dangerous info for some to have. Don't need people trying and failing to take down demons for a power boost."
Or worse. Succeeding. Her view of people seeking out that kind of power is perhaps understandably a dubious one.
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Oh, no, Radar didn't even think of that. His eyes widen. "You really think somebody'd try to do that on purpose?"
Because killing off the demons so they stop messing with everybody is one thing, but killing them so you can start messing with everybody instead... oh, that's really really really not good.
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"I've known the type." More than her fair share of them, really. Avatars are rather the poster children for actions like that. "Used to be the type. Might've given me a jaded view on people. But can't help but wonder."
Most people may be decent people. But there's always someone.
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Despite being plucked from the middle of a literal war, Radar's first instinct is still to believe people are decent until proven otherwise. Sure, there's always someone; he'd bet Daisy five brass that Major Burns would try to kill a demon if he could steal some power off them. (Especially if the demon said something mean about General MacArthur.) But as he flips through his mental filing cabinet, he's having a hard time thinking of anybody here who'd take it that far on purpose.
Right?
He's starting to squeeze Hilda a little too tight. She grumbles, softly, and gives the collar of his jacket a quick nip. Radar startles back to himself. "Sorry, girl," he whispers to her as he loosens his hold. To Daisy: "Hey, um, you want me to take her for a walk while you finish up?"
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That's enough to snap Daisy away from any lingering thoughts of her own, shaking them off not unlike a dog shaking water from its fur. "Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks, Radar. Shouldn't take me too much longer."