#coldwaveweekend2018

[coldwaveevents]

[delkios]

A-Splishin’ and A-Splashin’ (DC TV)

Title for Splish Splash by Bobby Darin. Title: A-Splishin' and A-Splashin' Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1168 In Responds to: ColdWave Weekend 2018: Watery Wonderland Characters: Len, Mick, a bit of Lisa Summary: Len doesn't appreciate Mick's creative solution to beating the heat. Len opens the door and takes one step into the apartment before rocking to a halt, one foot reflexively sticking forward to keep the door from swinging back into his face. Lisa gives him a quick, barely attentive look before turning back to the television and, instead of a greeting, tells him, "Shut the door, Lenny. You'll let bugs in." Then she takes a sip of her pink lemonade with a little paper umbrella out of a highball glass. She's wearing a shiny swimsuit, deep purple and electric blue, a pair of Aubrey Hepburn sunglasses Len stole for her last year and has her hair up in a messy bun. She looks very much like she should be on some French Riviera resort instead of sitting in an inflatable pool in the middle of the front room in the shitty apartment Len shares with Mick.

Len glares at his partner, obviously responsible for this current absurdity, and finds Mick in a plastic-weave folding chair, boxers, a bright Hawaiian style shirt open over his bare chest and a pink and yellow plastic lei Lisa had gotten at school one year hanging around his neck. His feet are soaking in the kiddie pool right next to Lisa, sipping out of his own paper-umbrella-topped and decidedly more alcoholic highball glass, seemingly content to watch Saved By The Bell with Lisa. With a sigh and a pinch to the bridge of his nose, Len steps in to let the door close behind him. He loves Mick, he really does, both as a partner and as something indefinable but sometimes... sometimes Len doesn't know why he trusts leaving Mick and Lisa alone for any length of time together. Of course he's glad that Lisa has something she can trust asides from himself and that Mick is just as ready to defend and take care of her as he is Len. Neither will Len deny that he'll willingly spoil his little sister at any chance he can, eager to give her all the things their father refuses to, but Len at least puts down hard limits that Lisa, generally, respects. With Mick, however, in some ways the two are cut from the same cloth. The one that, once one has an idea in their head, no matter how non-nonsensical or irresponsible, the other will eagerly egg them on until they end up buying and filling up a goddamn inflatable pool in the front room. "You just gonna stand around?" Mick asks, leaning over to put his drink on a toolbox he'd pulled over to use as a table. "Have a seat. Relax for once." He pulls up another plastic folding chair and opens it up next to his own. Len just gives Mick a very pointed look and grits out, "A word." He turns on his heel and stalks into their bedroom. There's the telltale sound of water sloshing, then the creaking of Mick's heavy weight on the floorboards. When Len turns around Mick is right there, not caring about the water he's trailed through the carpet. That little tidbit makes Len's voice a little sharper when he bites out, "What the hell, Mick?" Mick just shrugs, both not really caring about and used to weathering Len's irritated anger. "You don't wanna shell out for an air conditioner." "So you got a fucking pool?" "And folding chairs." "That doesn't make it better." Mick's brow furrows in a light annoyance. "It's hot, miserable and humid, neither you or your sister are willing to go to a public pool. What else am I supposed to do?" "So what, we're just going to keep a pool of water in the front room?" "I'll dump the water out the window when Lise is done with it. It's not like that shit is permanent." "And the mold that'll inevitably start growing because neither of you think about things like tracking water through a carpet?" "So we'll get a new apartment." Len stares. "If we could afford a better apartment, say one with a working air conditioner, we'd be in it already!" "Too bad we're not crooks or nothing," Mick says, sarcasm so thick Len can feel it dripping down his back along with the sweat, "we'd just steal the money for it. Until then, I guess we'll just make due with what we got." Len has to pause and visibly collect himself. Sometimes dealing with Mick was like bashing up against a brick fucking wall. Len knows these sorts of partnerships will occasionally have friction and requires work to get over it, and he knows Mick has said some decidedly unflattering things about Len's own stubbornness but sometimes, in moments like these, he thinks that Mick is far more stubborn and purposefully obtuse for Len's patience. "Would it shut you up if I told you I got a box of Fudgsicles?" Len's brain skids to a halt. For a moment he's tempted to berate Mick's attempt to bribe him with his favorite ice cream he hadn't had since before his grandfather died. Then he nearly asks how Mick even knew about that because Len doesn't recall them getting ice cream together. Which means Lisa told him. Because she's in on this, too, the little brat. As Len draws his body straight, scathing words on his tongue, Lisa says from behind him, "Just change already and sit with us." When Len turns around to face her, Lisa shoves a bundle of clothes at Len's chest. Then she turns back around and pads into the front room. She, like Mick, doesn't seem to care at all for the water she's trailing. Mick roars with laughter, slapping Len's shoulder, though not as heavily as he would someone other than Len. "Let's see you try to argue with that," he chortles, then follows after Lisa, deeming the conversation won. Len scowls impotently down the hall. After a moment he decides to unbundle the cloth. At the top is a Hawaiian shirt, not unlike the one Mick's wearing. Under the shirt is another, folded up fabric. When Len pulls it open, he recognizes it as the kind of fabric women on the beach will wrap around their hips or tie up like a dress. The material is light and thin, the color dark enough to obscure his scars, but gauzy enough that it's definitely meant to be a sexy tease. Len mentally sends an exasperated sigh Mick's way. Given the lack of witnesses, he will absolutely deny any fond twitching of his lips it may have brought. Five minutes later, both men are in their fold out chairs, feet in the pool on either side of Lisa. Len has on his own sunglasses, the shirt and fabric wrapped around his waist over a pair of Mick's shorts and a tacky looking flower tucked behind his ear, a Mai Tai in one hand and Fudgsicle in the other. It is still ridiculous and dumb but, well, it's a fun way to deal with the heat.

[messterpiecetheater]

Scales & Tails

Ship: Coldwave

Other Characters: Lisa Snart

Rating: General Audiences

AO3

Summary: Mick’s from the mountain; Len’s from the sea.  A feast by the lake fills them with glee.

written for day one of Coldwave Weekend: Watery Wonderland

dedicated to an actual angel who likes dragons: @sophiainspace

Flames roared to life when Mick spit on the kindling.  Meat from the mountain and the sea filled the air with succulent scents that would make even a sated entity hungry once more.

Len flicked water at Mick’s forepaw with his tail: an azure thing shimmering with damp sunlight.  Len smirked when Mick looked at him.  Mick rumbled playfully; Len dove underwater. Mick watched the water shift, waiting for Len to emerge.

Len leapt out of the water to splash more water at him—reaching high enough to reach Mick’s nostrils.  Len had plenty of time to dive back under the water while Mick flinched and blinked.

Mick ran his paw through the water.  He could cause a tidal wave with one wap of his wing if he wanted to.

Mick crouched low and squinted at the water.

...Len leapt onto Mick’s snout, tracing Mick’s scales with damp, webbed fingers.

Mick smiled.  His snout was basically a heating rock; Len couldn’t resist it.  Mick ran his claws gently along Len’s back and tail.  Other dragons thought it was weird that he blunted his claws—assumed it was a weakness—but fire and fangs like his didn’t need them.  Besides, going by the wails of his enemies, blunt fangs hurt more anyway.

They were soon chowing down on roasted beasts and fish.  Mick purred and Len hummed because the flavors were just as scrumptious as the scents. They were juicy and tender and warmed both their tummies

Mick used a fang to get a bit out of his teeth while Len licked his fingers.

Len patted the side of Mick’s snout, code for down.

Mick frowned...  He liked having Len where he could keep an eye on him.  He couldn’t follow him in the water.

Len crawled over and pecked the spot between Mick’s eyes so Mick would feel better.

Mick lowered and tilted his head towards the water so it’d be easier for Len to enter it again.

Len smiled up at him and flicked more water at his face.

Mick snorted, shaking the water away; then Mick swirled the water around him until Len got dizzy.

Len laughed, a melody of popping bubbles.  Len held up a waiting hand, dove under the water, and brought back a clam.

Len opened it, revealing a pearl that was so perfectly spherical and icy that it was almost like a snowball.

Mick held it carefully in his paws.  Dragons tended to have treasure stolen from them, but to have treasure given to them? That made it all the more precious. Its priceless value skyrocketed by being from Len.

Mick pressed his snout to Len’s forehead.  Len trilled affectionately.

Mick shielded it safely in his paw, then flapped his winged arms to fly back to his cave.  Len waved goodbye before returning to the sea.

Len and Lisa explored the pools and waterways Mick had dug out for them, all connected to the hot spring in his cave that was large enough for Mick to join them in.  There were so many stones on the bottom that they’d never seen in the sea: silver dotted with lavender and turquoise.  The siblings gathered a small hoard by the time Len sighed wistfully.

Len whipped around when he heard a noise that sounded like air bubbling to the surface: Lisa’s laughter. He glared inquisitively at her.

She held her hands against her heart and sighed in a mockingly love-struck manner.

Len folded his arms and simmered.  That just made Lisa form lips with her hand and moan against it.  Len flicked his fingers against her forehead.  She scoffed out a pained sound yet schooled her features into a smug expression when Len’s indignant frown softened into a smile because Mick ambled over and pressed his snout to Len’s forehead.  Her smirk wrapped around her face when Len presented Mick the prettiest stone he’d found.

Mick’s smiles always warmed her brother; the effect started affecting Lisa after they started living here—where their father couldn’t follow.

Mick had a gift of his own for Len.

Lisa covered her gasp with her hands.

Len stared at it with eyes as wide as they could go.

It was a gold bangle centered with the pearl.  Mick must’ve had a human craft it!

Lisa nudged Len forward so he’d accept Mick’s proposal already c’mon!

Len practically melted from the gesture.  He clipped it on his wrist and wore it proudly.

Mick and Len shared another snout-forehead touch afterwards.

[hiverforesteevee]

someone poke me to write for Coldwave Weekend

[delkios]

The Whole Earth Opening Wide (DC TV)

Title from A View to a Kill by Duran Duran. Descriptions inspired by my own drives through Kansas and to the summit of Mt. Evans. Title: The Whole Earth Opening Wide Fandom: DC TV Rating: G Word Count: 2314 In Responds to: ColdWave Weekend 2018: Fun in the Sun Characters: Len, Mick Summary: After the death of Len's grandfather, Mick takes them on an impromptu roadtrip. Len's grandfather died a couple months before he turned seventeen. It was from some complication or other brought on by the inability to afford proper medication. Mick didn't really know, too busy trying to keep Len from slipping into panic attacks as the last buffer between Lewis and his children finally slipped away. Not that Mick was in a much better mental space given it had been less than a year since he killed his own family. But Len scrimped and saved and ran risk after risk, trying to get enough money to send Lisa to two different camps that would keep her away from Lewis through almost the entirety of the summer and Mick helped out to the best of his ability. He went with Len to drop Lisa off for her first camp, three weeks of figure skating training with the second starting two weeks after that. Lisa hugged Len tight, obviously afraid of leaving him with their father for so long by himself. Mick wasn't insulted by it; he couldn't intervene the way their grandfather had and Len wanted Mick to stay away from Lewis as much as possible. Probably because he knew Mick had no qualms killing the man if he ever had the chance. But Lisa was bundled away onto a bus with all the other hopeful skaters and Len watched it disappear forlornly down the street. Then Mick swung a duffel bag into Len's midsection, jolting him out of his sulk. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go."

Len took the bag by reflex. "Where?" "Hell if I know." Westward was basically the extent of Mick's planning. He drove them out of Central, through Keystone and just kept going. The sun was bright and sky speckled with clouds and it was still early enough that the wind was still cool so they drove with the windows down. They stopped at a fast food place off the side of the highway for lunch, stretching their legs out for a bit, then drove off again. Len stayed silent almost the entire time, barely responding to Mick's words and just staring aimlessly out the window. Mick tried filling the silence with the radio but all he could get with any consistency was country music and talk stations. Having had to grow up listening to both, he had no interest in doing so ever again. The highway was straight and flat and in the afternoon with no shade, the air heated up quickly around them. Mick turned on the air conditioning- his father had always been stingy with it given how much gas it used, but he wasn't driving anymore. Mick called those kinds of shots now. He'd never driven out this far before and it was kind of difficult not letting his attention wander. There was nothing to look at but farmland after farmland, the occasional speeding vehicle and billboards advertising either food or salvation. By the time they stopped for gas, Mick felt like screaming. It felt like this hellhole was doing its best to keep him from leaving, just making him drive one monotonous mile after another until he was half convinced they'd already driven that same stretch of land before. As Mick dug cash out of one of the wallets Len had pocketed during their lunch stop, Len asked, "Do you want me to drive for a while?" Len hated driving. He was also a shitty driver but he couldn't stand driving and Mick couldn't imagine what he looked like to have Len offering. "Nah. Just get me a bunch of candy for the road. I'll need the pick-me-up." Mick paid for gas, two bags of chips and a huge slushie. Len was already inside the car while Mick filled up. After they'd driven a few miles away from the gas station, Len started pulling out handfuls of candy packages. He opened up a bag of Skittles and passed it over to Mick. Then he opened up the glove compartment, pulling case after case of cassette tapes from his pockets and stuffing them inside. Wordlessly he picked one from the stash and pushed it into the tape deck. After a couple seconds, synthpop filled the car and Mick eventually recognized it as Duran Duran's Rio. "Are you fucking kidding me with this crap!" Len didn't say anything but Mick could see his smile in the reflection of the window. ~*~*~*~ It was a weird thing to say, but the Rocky Mountains had been a bit of a surprise. Mick had seen the sign that said they'd gone into Colorado but overall it wasn't that much different from Kansas. It was the same empty horizon with farms and billboards and a whole lot of nothing for hours. He hadn't even noticed the mountains at first, they were so far away they were just irregular smears in the distance, barely indistinguishable from the rest of the sky and could disappear any time the road curved. Then it was like the moment he started seeing signs for Denver, the mountains just appeared. Still distant and still faded blue but dark enough that the jagged line they made was obvious. Mick reached over, shaking Len's shoulder as he dozed in the passenger seat. Len woke up with a start, hands coming up, ready to fight someone off. "What?" He asked groggily. "What is it?" Mick just pointed out the windshield. "Mountains." Len peered forward, waiting for Mick to drive under an overpass that was obstructing the view. "Yes," he said at length. "Those are mountains. Your geographical knowledge is astounding." Mick snorted but magnanimously didn't point out the fact that Len wasn't settling back to sleep again. He knew Len was oddly excited about them. After all he, like Mick, had never seen mountains in person before. They stopped again to fill the gas and their bellies and Mick picked up a map and directions from the clerk while he was at it. When he rejoined Len- with more snacks and drinks because why not -Len asked snidely, "Are you planning on going into the mountains?" "Sure," Mick said easily, dumping everything in Len's lap so he could buckle himself in. "Why not?" Len scowled and tossed everything into the back. Except for the map. "It's a big rock, Mick. What's the point?" "Because we're going passed 'em anyway." Len raised an eyebrow. "We are, are we?" "What, you wanna head back already?" When Len didn't say anything, Mick turned the ignition. "Yeah, didn't think so." Len narrowed his eyes at Mick. With great flair, like an act of defiance, Len pushed a new tape into the player. Mick caught sight of the case, just long enough to recognize it as one of Lisa's favorites: Cyndi Lauper. "Mother fucker!" Len chuckled maliciously but graciously opened the map while he was at it. ~*~*~*~ The closer they got to the mountains the less Len was able to pretend he didn't care. His eyes grew wider the higher they loomed and with every crest they made, there was another line right after. It took Mick a while to realize that, for as big as those first line of ranges were, they were only foothills. Rolling greens with deep crags of rocks and thick with trees, they were nothing compared to the actual mountains. They passed through a tunnel and suddenly the land was high enough to block out the sun. Len had to crane his neck out the window in order to see the tops. Mick drove carefully, somewhat unnerved by how closely the narrow, winding road hugged the mountain walls, especially having only ever driven either packed city streets or the wide open countryside. It looked like Len could lean out and touch it with his fingertips in places. He drove so cautiously, in fact, that Mick even pulled off a couple times in order to let other cars pass him. The way they sped by made him swallow hard. And he thought Len could get reckless. Not to mention, as much as Mick claimed to have grown up in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but a town with only a two lane highway passing through and impossibly high mountains all around seemed incredibly isolating. But still he drove if not just because now Len was no longing hiding his excitement. He kept marveling at the rocks, at the river they drove alongside, at the sheer number of trees around them. Then they started on the switchbacks, going higher and higher until the trees started to thin out and once the road broke out of the treeline and they could see the land falling away, Mick pulled over at the first available place. They got out and just... stood there, staring at everything below them. The mountains and hills rolled away, fading into the distance and Mick hadn't even noticed how many ranges they'd driven through. "Holy shit," he said quietly. "I can't believe we didn't snag a camera." Len grabbed Mick's arm, a bright grin spreading over his face. "C'mon. Let's see how it looks from the top." They drove on, high enough they started passing patches of snow that still lingered despite the pre-summer heat that had them sweating all through Kansas and the eastern part of Colorado. They stopped again when they reached a huge lake near the summit. The water was so clear and blue they could see the rocks along the bottom. Out of curiosity, Mick went up to the edge and stuck his hand in for a split second before jerking it back. That shit was freezing! He knew it would be, of course, given the snow and how chilly it was so high up and the fact they drove through a fucking cloud on the way up, but it still took him by surprise. Len was pretending he wasn't laughing at Mick but Mick glared at him anyway. They continued, the road almost entirely switchbacks from that point on, barely any vegetation at all, just rocks and sparse patches of grass. Len slapped Mick's arm so hard Mick nearly drove them off the road. Mick was too surprised to be angry, however, when he realized Len was point at a couple of mountain goats that were just chilling a few dozen feet from the road. There was a parking area near the top where the ruins of a building that had burnt down a few years prior and, further beyond that an observatory sat. The actual summit was a short hike up a fairly impressive pile of rocks. They still had to stop for a breather a couple times, though, as altitude sickness got to them. But Len was determined to reach the top and wherever Len went, Mick followed. When they finally reached the top- a few other tourists giving them words of support as they passed -Mick crawled up to the top of the rocks and flopped on his back, trying to stave off the dizziness. Len was also breathing hard, but he was sitting up and taking in the view. "Goddamn," Mick said faintly, "mountains suck. Why is breathing so hard?" Len just hummed, eyes never moving from the horizon. After a while, Mick sat up. The view was spectacular, the land undulating until it faded to blue, blending in with the sky yet again. After a long stretch of silence, Len said, "Do you think that's Kansas?" "What?" "Over there." He pointed out to the horizon. Mick assumed he was pointing east. "Do you think that's Kansas? Or still Colorado?" Mick leaned forward slightly, squinting his eyes as if he could see some delineation of a border when he couldn't even tell if he was looking at flat land or more mountains. "I dunno. Why?" "I just... never realized how big the world is, I guess." Mick could see that. Until the impromptu roadtrip, Len hadn't even been to Kansas. "Less than thirteen hours and already there's an entire state and a half between us." "We could keep going." Len visibly hesitated so Mick continued, trying to keep his voice both neutral and coaxing. "Still got nearly three weeks until Lisa's back from camp. We could head back to that little town and get a room for then night, then keep going west in the morning. Spend a week traveling the California coast. We'd still make it back before she does." Len looked down, twisting his fingers together. "My dad will be pissed when I get back." "He's gonna be pissed no matter what you do." Len took a deep breath, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and worrying at it. Mick just put a hand to Len's back, thumb rubbing circles at the base of his neck. "Just a thought," Mick said, "we don't gotta do it." They sat there, long enough for their shadows to spill out down the mountain side, the valley below them getting darker and darker. Just as Mick was about to suggest getting a move on before the sun got much lower, Len said, "Okay." "Huh?" He turned to Mick, smile a little wavery but determined like he was trying not to talk himself out of it. "Let's see what's on the other side of the mountains." Mick grinned, heart pounding in his chest for reasons he didn't understand. Daringly he pulled Len into a tight, one-armed hug. "Sure thing, Boss." They went to the car, Len still tucked up against Mick's side. Their adventure was slightly waylaid when the mountain goats decided to stand in the middle of the road as they were leaving the summit but eventually Len managed to startle it off by cranking up a Motorhead tape. When they were able to start driving again, Mick socked him in the arm for hiding that up until now. Len just laughed, bright and happy.

[delkios]

Come Sail Your Ships Around Me (DC TV)

Title from The Ship Song by Nick Cave. This is essentially a prologue (that i'll never continue) from an idea I had a good while back inspired by the first season of Alice Isn't Dead and the first two episodes of Eureka. Title: Come Sail Your Ships Around Me (And Burn Your Bridges Down) Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 2360 In Responds to: ColdWave Weekend 2018: Friday the 13th Characters: Mick, s2 Legends Summary: There's a temporal anomaly following the Legends. One capable of writing things out of the timeline. The first time it showed up the thing nearly killed Ray. Not that any of them had know that at the time, it had just shown up in the middle of a fight against anachronistically armed hussars during the War of Austrian Succession. Reinforcements had shown up for the hussars, one of which had a goddamn rocket launcher that he had fired into the skirmish without thought for his allies. Ray had flown into its path and Mick had lunged after him. Ray's armaments had been damaged earlier in the fight and Mick knew a sacrifice play when he saw one. But inches between Ray and the explosive the air ripped open with a sound so loud and distorted, folded in on itself until it was like reality was tearing itself apart. The tear pulled back into a ragged, shapeless opening that swirled in blues and greens with deep fingers of purple crackling around a humanoid silhouette like a halo. The projectile disappeared inside its chest and, with the same terrible roar that announced it, it vanished. Everyone had frozen, staring at the spot the thing had occupied. Except for Mick. After so many years working as the Time Masters' bounty hunter, he knew how to work through weird, using it to his advantage. He fired a gout of flame at the hussar's already terrified horse, not aiming to hurt it, just spook it. It reared back, throwing its rider to the ground before bolting, a couple other horses following its lead. Once they were clear, Mick fired again, this time detonating the remaining ammo in the hussar's bag. The explosion broke through the mass stun and the hussars that didn't immediately surrender out of fear threw down their weapons and ran.

Clean up was fairly easy after that, word of mouth claiming the Legends were slaughtering anyone using these 'magic gifts'. When they finally trudged back onto the Waverider the only answer Gideon could give as to what happened was 'a massive temporal distortion'. "What does that mean?" Sara asked. "I'm afraid I cannot be any more specific. I have no records of any similar event." When Sara turned to Mick, he just shrugged. Jax said to the room in general, "So this is definitely something we're gonna have to deal with eventually, isn't it?" Sara sighed and pushed away from the console. "I don't doubt it." It showed up again almost a month later as a time pirate ambushed a couple of them checking a crashed ship in pre-history Nepal, swinging what looked like a machete-shaped lightsaber at Mick. The air ripped open again, flickering briefly around everyone like it was trying to find the correct spot- right in front of the pirate. She twisted, trying to maneuver around the thing but her arm brushed against the swirl of color, the purple immediately crackling along the limb, dragging her into the tear. When the pirate's hand brushed against the silhouette it was like she'd reached the event horizon of a black hole. Her body stretched, limbs turning into ribbons that twisted as she was pulled in and in. Her scream was the only thing that lingered as it thunder clapped out of existence. In that time, Nate had grabbed Mick and Amaya, dragging them against him as he backpedaled against the side of the ship, all three stunned silent. It took him a while to find his voice, announcing into his comm, "Uh, Sara? We saw the thing again." And it kept showing up. Again and again and again, each appearance coming quicker than the last. At first it seemed to happen only when the Legends were in a fight. Then it started happening outside of any overt threat. Then, according to Gideon, it started showing up before or after their arrival, the temporal distortion lingering for days, on one occasion an entire week before they came. Sometimes it stayed in one place, sometimes it flickered to different spots, the length of its appearance ranging anywhere between instantaneous to a minute long. It didn't seem to care about casualties, of the people or things it sucked into its body, one time appearing over top an injured man. The Legends hadn't heard him scream or seen him vanish, but he was gone all the same. To make it worse, the victims weren't merely killed, they were erased from the timeline. Each and every one, no matter how Gideon scoured her records, not even Rip's team able to go back and find any trace of them even before they vanished. In response Sara had gotten more cautious in assignments, dividing the team into groups when they went out and told to call in the moment the thing showed up. Or maybe it was less caution and more trying to figure out the anomaly's pattern. She'd called Mick into the study after a particularly harrowing encounter, the anomaly seeming to follow the Legends back to the Waverider for a mile before stopping just outside of the Waverider's weapon range. One wall of the study was taken up by a board that had the locations of each encounter as well as the names of who saw it underneath. Mick didn't have enough time to parse the list before Sara said, "Are you sure you don't know anything about this thing?" Mick gave her a mildly irritated look. "Sure as I was the last four times you asked." Her mouth pressed into a thin line, looking like she was trying to figure out the best way to phrase what she had to say. She settled on, "I think it's after you." His brow furrowed. "What?" "You're the only one that's witnessed every single appearance and whenever it intervenes in a fight, it's almost always when you're in direct danger." For a long moment Mick didn't say anything. Couldn't think of what to say. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before asking, knowing she wouldn't have an answer, "Why?" Sara shrugged, looking helpless. "I don't know. But I don't know if I should let you back into the field unless necessary. At least until we figure out how to deal with this thing. I don't know if it can track you while you're on the ship-" The alarms blared. They looked at each other, both acutely aware of the timing, before charging into the hall to meet the sudden danger. "It's on the ship!" Jax called out over the ship wide com. "Holy crap, it followed us into the timestream!" Mick and Sara skidded to a halt. There, at the other end of the hall, was the anomaly, flicker as it stopped by each door as if it were peering inside. Thankfully it didn't seem interested in the crew, having ignored the fact it had Ray and Jax cornered in their respective rooms before it moved on. It flickered again, suddenly jumping halfway down the hall to appear within a yard of Mick and Sara. Then, for the first time, the silhouette moved. Its arm lifted and reached out, the rift reshaping itself around it. Its hand and fingers outstretched, as if it was going to touch Mick's cheek but Sara pushed Mick behind her, firmly putting herself in the anomaly's way. With a snap her staff extended, held at the ready even though she knew what would happen if it touched her. But the thing stilled, head tilting slightly to one side. And vanished. For a long moment no one spoke. Then Ray said, forced brightness in his voice, brittle around the edges, "Well, that was terrifying!" "Gideon," Sara said, absently patting Mick's arm as if to assure herself he was still there, "any damage?" "None, Captain Lance," Gideon replied. "However, given the anomaly's ability, it may be best to have someone confirm that." Jax nodded to her. "I'll get on it." Nate heaved a sigh. "I did not need to know it can show up in the timestream." "I'm actually a little glad it showed up," Amaya said. "Something about the noise it makes has been bothering me but I haven't managed to get a recording of it. Gideon, were you able to do that?" "Yes, Miss Jiwe, though I am not programmed to do complex noise filtering." "Perhaps I can be of assistance," Stein said. "I have some amount of experience in that area." Nate grinned, equal parts amused and disbelieving. "You?" "Like any good nuclear physicist, I have a number of friends in SETI," Stein said matter of factly. "One of whom took the time to show me how to filter out noises surrounding potential signals." "Is that really a typical association?" "Absolutely." No one could tell if he was being sarcastic. "Alright, then," Sara said. "Gideon, set him up with a soundboard and let's see what you can find." Gideon had one fabricated and waiting in the study and as Stein went to it, Mick followed. Stein paused, looking a bit unnerved at the company. "This may take a while, Mr. Rory. Rest assured, I'll have Gideon alert the crew once I've gotten something." "I'm the one being stalked by Space Ghost," Mick told him. "I'm gonna be there when you figure out why." Stein looked to Sara who just shrugged back. Stifling an unhappy sound, Stein continued on his way with Mick right behind him. After a moment, with no one having anything better to do, the rest of the Legends followed. It took some time before Stein got anything. Long enough for Mick to wander off and bring back a bottle of stout and a bottle of bourbon, the latter he placed next to the chair he claimed, the former he cracked open and drank from. After a little longer, Ray went out and came back with a tray of sandwiches he passed around to everyone. Then Jax returned with a clean bill of health for the Waverider and, not much longer after that, Stein abruptly froze. Jax, feeling his apprehension, asked, "You find something, Gray?" "Indeed I have," he replied, voice strained. "This... will be upsetting for most, if not all of us, but Mr. Rory is likely to be the most affected." In reply, Mick leaned over the side of his chair to pick up the untouched bottle of bourbon. He flopped back into his original position, took a long pull and said, "Hit me, Professor." Stein removed his headset, pressed a button and a faint crackle filled the room. He pressed another button and a voice said, "Mick" Mick abruptly sat upright. Sara, her posture stiffening from her place against the wall, asked, "Was that..." Stein held up a hand. "There's more. Much more." He started raising sliders, layers and layers of voices- of one voice -speaking over each other, each layer looping through a single word or phrase over and over again. "Mick" "where are you" "you and me partner" "I'll find you no matter what" "don't leave me" "I'm coming Mick" "That... that's Snart," Ray said softly, glancing at Mick for confirmation. Mick wasn't looking at anyone. He took another drink from the bourbon, hand shaking. Nate's brow furrowed. "Wasn't he the guy that killed that alternate-" Ray cut him off with a sharp jab of his elbow and Nate, catching Sara's glare, said, "Not the time. Right." "My immediate hypothesis," Stein said, turning off the voices, "would be this anomaly resulted from Mr. Snart's presence at the Oculus explosion. The question is: is this anomaly an echo of his consciousness or is it actually Mr. Snart in some form? Is he aware that he's been following Mr. Rory? Or even of the danger he's presenting? Or is the echo merely chasing the presence of the most important person in Mr. Snart's life?" Mick pulled a face. "I ain't the most important person to him." The others gave him odd looks. "Evidence points to the contrary," Jax said dryly. "Nah. That was always his sister." "Is her name Lisa?" Amaya asked. Mick's jaw went hard and eyes sharp. "How do you know that," he growled. "It was in the voices," she said, stepping up next to Stein. "It was very faint. Can you turn them on again?" Stein did as she asked and Amaya studied the waveforms for each channel. "That one." She said, pointing it out. "I think it's on that one." Stein put on his headset again and fiddled around again. "My god, you're right!" He shut off every channel but the one that said "don't leave me" and in real time the others heard the words fade and another gradually coming out of it. "Lisa" Mick stood up, the bourbon falling to the floor and splashing under his feet as he strode swiftly through the hall. "Gideon," he barked out, "get us to Central 2017." "Belay that order, Gideon!" Sara called, chasing after him. "Override CHR-A31163DC. Central City. 2017. Now." "Understood, Chronos. Setting course." Sara brushed passed Mick, planting her feet and putting a hand to his chest. He probably could've barreled over her if he really wanted- she probably would've found a more painful way to stop him in that case -but Mick stopped. "You need to calm down." "You need to get outta my way, Blondie. I damn near helped Snart raise Lisa. She's as much my sister as she is his." "Mick," she said firmly, eyes intense on his. "I'm not saying no, I'm just saying we need to think about how we're going to do this. She already hates most of us for what happened to Leonard and you, that means you're the only one that she'll listen to." Mick's jaw twitched but he stopped straining into her hand. "I know she's a spitfire, I know she's independent. I'll get us to her, but you need to think about how to convince her to let us protect her." His eyes traced over her face, looking for even the slightest hint of a lie. His shoulders slumped and he said, voice low and tight, "She's all the family I got left." Sara's expression softened, hand moving to squeeze his shoulder. "Then let's go get her." --- Easter egg- the code Mick gives is the date of Atom 3 which marks the first appearance of David Clinton aka Chronos

[messterpiecetheater]

Damn Pan

Rating: PG-13

Ship: Coldwave

AO3

Written for day 3 of Coldwave Weekend 2018: Fun in the Sun

C’mon, Lenny, throw a horseshoe with me!

I will literally die if I step outside.

You’ve been outside plenty of times...

When it was cloudy or dark out.

Oh.

...Hand me a horseshoe.

Nuh-uh. I ain’t letting you kill yourself over a game.

I’m not going to die. Hand me one.

Alright... Here ya go...  Fuck! What a shot!

Vampire reflexes, baby!

If you think you’re sexy when you wink, you’re wrong.

You still wanna kiss me though.

Damn straight, I do!

Damn pan, actually.

[messterpiecetheater]

Unlucky Day

Mick’s luck does a 180°.

Ship: Coldwave

Rating: General Audiences

Mick was cocooned in blankets yet still freezing.

“Oh, Sparky...” Len cooed.

“Don’t you fuckin’ coo at me,” Mick squinted at him with itchy eyes.

“How about we have a movie marathon instead?”

“Long as it’s nothing with clowns.”

“Of course,” Len smiled as he put on the first of one of those hockey mask chainsaw movies.

Mick laid his head on Len. Len wreathed an arm around him.  Mick’s luck was already changing.

[delkios]

I Want to be the One (DCU)

Title from the song I Want to be the One by The Megas. Set in a pre-52 continuity that never actually existed. I WILL NEVER NOT BE BITTER ABOUT IRIS AND JAI BEING WRITTEN OUT OF EXISTENCE. THANKS BARRY. Title: I Want to be the One (Who Fights Against You) Fandom: DCU Rating: PG Word Count: 1981 Characters: Len, Mick, Iris and Jai West, Wally In response to: ColdWave Weekend 2018: Guest of Honor Summary: When Rogues show up at a bank, it's only natural for a speedster to come stop them. The alarm didn't even have a chance to blare with the thick coating of ice on it. Neither was the electric alarm able to trigger an alert due to a quick splicing. Even with those precautions, the Rogues knew they only had a limited amount of time before a speedster arrived, not even bothering to open the vault's deposit boxes and just dumping them straight into their bags. It would have been easier, or at least the haul greater, with a larger crew but Cold and Mick were both strong for middle-aged, non-powered humans. They could carry one full bag each and, given how many of Central's richest used this particular bank, chances were good that which ever ones they chose would have a good amount of liquid assets in them if not paperwork that could lead them to an even bigger score. Cold had just finished securing his bag shut and turning to defend the entrance when he felt it: the faint tingling against his skin like building static, followed by the growing scent of ozone. He grinned wickedly, pulling out his cold gun as he announced, "Speedster incoming."

No sooner had he said that then a zigzag of gold and scarlet lightning came in through the door. It would take a keen eye to be able to catch that this one was somewhat smaller than normal, about waist height, but Cold's had been honed by decades of fighting various speedsters. To him it was obvious. And just what he was expecting. He shot a series of ice patches on the ground but the blur easily wove around them. Then Mick stepped up next to him and laid down a wall-to-wall line of fire. The blur made a ninety degree turn, heading straight for the wall. A veteran speedster would've been able to run up it without breaking stride- make a circuit around the ceiling if they felt like showing off. This one was still young and had to use a nearby counter to wall jump high enough to clear the fire. The two Rogues kicked their bags off to the side where it wouldn't trip anyone up before dashing to opposite sides, letting the streak pass through they space they once stood. It made a u-turn in the tight confines of vault, narrowly slipping under the safety bars that slammed down in the entrance. "You'll have to do better than that, Impulse!" Cold taunted, laying out a cold field around him. Impulse hit the very edge of the field, right where the cold started to sap speed and bolted back out, deciding Mick was better to focus on at the moment. Not that he was an easier target, jets of flame and super-heated floor tiles keeping the kid from getting a direct shot at him. And with Cold taking occasional potshots, Impulse would have to think creatively in order to take the two down. After a few more moments of futile attempts- including another go at Cold, once again stopped by a cold field he laid down after the first dissipated- Impulse ran straight at, and through, the wall. Mick tried to scramble away from the wall he was next to but Impulse was quicker than him, vibrating through it and slamming into his midsection. Mick was sent rolling across the floor, knocking over a teller's chair. "You'll pay for that, brat!" Cold growled, backing up into a cluster of tables and chairs, trying to get more obstacles between them. It wouldn't do much against a speedster, even one as inexperienced as Impulse, but it caused enough of a funnel that Cold could predict where the streak would go and he fired off a stream of bone-deep cold. His aim was off just enough that Impulse was able to dodge the blast, catching Cold with a flurry of blows. It actually wasn't that painful even with the velocity behind each punch, but it sent Cold reeling anyway. He stumbled backward before pitching over dazed on the floor. Impulse shot up on his chest, the blur finally coalescing into a small, pig-tailed girl probably no older than ten. She stood on him, arms raised triumphantly, "I win!" A voice echoed ominously around the bank, "Not yet you don't." All the shutters on the bank slammed shut with a resounding echo, the room plunged into darkness save for the emergency lights. Impulse didn't look impressed. "I can just vibrate through the walls, this isn't much of a trap." "Oh yeah? Well how about now?" The room was suddenly filled with a low, subtle thrum, heavy enough to cause pens to rattle on their tables but not enough to cause any damage to the building. Impulse stumbled off of Cold, shaking her head a bit. She held out her hand, trying to vibrate it but nothing happened. "Hey!" She cried. "That's not fair!" "Don't be a baby, you still have your speed." The lights flickered dramatically as a third Rogue stepped into view. "Not that it'll do you any good against me!" "Pfft. Whatever." Her stance changed, ready to speed right at him. "We'll see about that." In that split instance between Impulse shifting her weight and turning into lightning, the sprinklers went off. It surprised Impulse so much she nearly bumped into a desk and, in trying to avoid it, stepped on a patch of ice and fell. The new Rogue laughed and started fiddling with a gauntlet on his arm. The alarm went off, far louder than they should've been able to, and the lights shut off while the emergency lights started flashing, washing everything in a red strobe. Between the water- and her bangs -coating her goggles and the cycling lights making it difficult to see where any obstacles were, Impulse couldn't get a good enough bead on her target to give chase. "You're not playing fair!" She cried out, sounding frustrated. "I'm a Rogue!" He called back. "I'm not supposed to play fair!" Impulse gave a growl before dashing forward. Even with only being able to go a few dozen feet in a second before having to wait for the next flash of light, she was still able to cover a good deal of distance. Her adversary, however, seemed to know exactly what she was going to do and managed to duck out of reach every time. Before either could gain the upper hand, another crackle of lightning came through the wall. It swept up the discarded bags of safety deposit boxes and disappeared them through the vault door before the streak came back out to reveal itself as the Flash. Impulse and the last Rogue stopped, the latter poking at his gauntlet until the lights came back on and alarm and sprinklers stopped. The Flash took in the scene with a critical eye before saying, "I was going to thank you for watching Jai and Irey for the afternoon but now I'm not sure that was a good idea." Cold abruptly sat up, leaning an elbow on one upraised knee. "You didn't keep the vibrations up?" Jai looked down at his gauntlet, poking at it for a moment. "Oh, um... oops?" Cold then turned to Iris. "And you didn't notice?" She stuck her tongue out and shifted her weight, trying to cover up her embarrassment by acting cute. "They're still young," Mick said, lounging against the overturned teller chair, "they'll get it in time." Wally put a hand to his face. "I can't believe my most reliable babysitters are a couple of Rogues." Mick smiled crookedly. "It's not like we got day jobs." "Can't you find a better way to entertain them than by playing heroes and villains?" He waved his hand at a beaming, thoroughly unrepentant Jai. "Or at least not treat one of my kids like a Rogue?" Cold just shrugged, shaking off some of the water as he and Mick got to their feet. "You're the one that won't let 'im play hero just 'cause he ain't got powers." "Can't exactly stop Irey when she can pull her costume straight out of the Speed Force." "Not like you don't know plenty of capes that don't have powers." Wally frowned, this time thoughtfully. Cold certainly did have a point and the Allen-Thawne rivalry/lineage was tangled enough that Wally didn't want one of his own kids adding an extra snarl to it. And Jai was looking at him with such open, vulnerable hope... "I'll think about it." "He's got a knack for Piper's gear," Mick said pointedly. "Not a bad place to start." "He definitely has a way with technology," Wally agreed while Jai preened. He put his hands on his hips, an exasperated but fond smile ghosting his lips as he asked his son, "What are you called this time?" "Short Circuit!" Jai said proudly. Wally raised an eyebrow, looking up at the two Rogues. "Which one of you named him that?" Obediently, they pointed at the other. Wally shook his head and reached out to pull Jai into a one-armed hug. "You are definitely not keeping that name." "He'll outgrow it eventually," Mick said mildly. Cold smothered his laughter with a snort. "Nice dive, by the way," Cold told his partner. "The chair was a nice touch." Mick just grinned and gave a little bow. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Iris asked. Though she pulled her punched, she still didn't have the fine control the veteran speedsters had. "You did fine, doll," Cold assured her. "'Sides, couple of tough old codgers like us don't bruise easily." "Or stay down for long," Wally added with wry amusement. "Gotta keep things interesting," Mick told him. "My life is quite interesting even without the Rogues." "But would it be as fun?" Wally didn't want to admit the answer to that, so he didn't. "Alright, let's get you two home and into an actual shower." When the twins whined, Wally just said, "We're going to your grandparents', remember? You gotta wash up if you want samgyeopsal." In an abrupt 180, the two gasped and cheered. "Now, go thank your babysitters so we can go eat, okay?" Iris zipped up, giving each man a hug. "Thanks for training with us!" "Thanks Uncle Mick, thanks Uncle Len!" Jai did the same at a much slower pace. Wally raised his face to the ceiling, still unable to believe his kids had adopted his Rogues as honorary uncles. How was this his life? But, honestly, if another cult came along trying to kidnap the twins again while he was busy elsewhere, at least Wally knew that the Rogues would be able to handle it. As the Speed Force crackled around the twins like a cradle, Iris called out, "Are you coming to my recital next Thursday?" "We'll be there," Mick promised. "Walker will be bringing a camera to record the whole thing," Cold added. Then, for Wally's benefit, "I'll make sure it's just a camera." "Be sure to get Linda a copy. I know she and Joan are going to be recording it themselves but, well..." "Walker's got a flare for that sorta thing, we know." Wally chuckled. He turned his head slightly, then turned back and gave the two a wink. "You promised to be there, so try not to get caught." In a burst of lightning and the lingering farewells from the kids, they were gone. And in the silence that followed, Cold and Mick could hear sirens. They both sighed and picked up their weapons. "Next time we see West," Cold said as he adjusted the settings on his gun, "we need to remind him that leaving us to play with cops ain't proper payment for watching his kids." Mick just laughed. "You know Linda's the one controlling the purse strings. Besides," he slapped Cold's shoulder as they walked, side by side, to the door, "it's still fun."

[coldwaveevents]

Coldwave Weekend 2018: July 12-15th

Time to get your Muse out once more, folks, with a Summer themed Coldwave Weekend! Y’all know the drill:

July 12, Day One: ‘Watery Wonderland’

A day at a water park, a merfolk AU, a heist at an aquarium, water guns—however it happens, someone’s gonna get wet!

July 13, Day Two: ‘Friday the 13th’

Chainsaws, hockey masks, murder—oh my! Hopefully, bad luck won’t keep you from creating for this day!

July 14, Day Three: ‘Fun in the Sun’

A barbeque, volleyball, lying in the sun—whip up something hot and sweaty!

July 15, Day Four: ‘Guest(s) of Honor’

Len and Mick fighting their favorite speedster(s), Mick and Len chilling in Starling, Constantine seducing his way into their bed—who do these dashing Rogues like to play with most?

Tag your creations with #ColdwaveWeekend2018, or @coldwaveevents, and if you’re posting on AO3, feel free to add them to our handy-dandy collection!

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