Style Credit

  • Style: draftcolourwayblues for draft from Transmogrified

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
jamjar: (buddha)
"Are you looking for Johnny?" Wobbler said without looking up from his playstation portable when the elf sat next to him on the park bench.

The elf- yep, definitely an elf, pointy ears and a bow and an air of ethereal... etherealness, looked at him.

"I do not know this "Johnny" of which you speak," It said. "I am merely searching for my pathway home." The elf looked at Wobbler, body motionless while his thumbs moved frantically over the buttons. Although it gave off an air of unruffled and supernatural calm, an above-it-all air that was hard to take offense at, since it so clearly was above it all, it was, deep down, rather off-put.

Normally, its air of glamour and otherworldly charms (and it used these words in their oldest meanings) had a certain effect on those mere mortals around it. Currently, those charms were washing against the great solidity that was Wobbler. Its frowned deepened, creating an air of tragic and fantastical beauty that would overwhelm the senses of any that saw it, if their senses hadn't been brought so abruptly down to earth by the sight of Wobbler.

The presence of Wobbler next to the elf was having an effect similar to playing Abba in a Transylvanian tomb, quite disrupting any supernatural effect.

"You probably do want Johnny," Wobbler said, his mouth barely moving as he concentrated on the small, crashing object on the centre of his screen. "All you things do."

The elf looked at him, affronted. Its expression of disapproval, which would have had kings and queens on their knees, begging for forgiveness, bounced off of Wobbler without leaving so much as a ripple to show its passing.

Wobbler shifted in his seat slightly. "I'll take you to meet him when I'm done," he said. "I'm almost at the bit with the cops and the thing."

"You will take me to him now!" It commanded.

"Inna minute! I'm almost done," Wobbler said. "I just gotta--"

Stunned at the lack of reaction, the elf sat down on the bench next to him. After a while, it started to feed the pigeons.

There was a tinny but rather final sounding crash from the game and Wobbler sighed and got up. "C'mon. He's probably at his grandad's."

The elf stood up to go.

"Have you got money for the bus? 'Cause I've got my card, but..."

jamjar: (Cake or Death!)
Johnny sighed and moved his bishop. "Check," he said.

His opponent moved a pawn. "MATE."

Johnny nodded and started to clear up his pieces. "Guess you win again. I've got--"


It helped if he just thought about him as a--

Actually, it helped if he didn't think about him, except maybe as another Alderman or a Mrs Tachyon, just cleaner and more solid and thinner. He wasn't like that at all, because those people were definitely people, definitely human, and this one wasn't, but...

His Grandad had taught him to play a few months back when he was off sick with the 'flu and it's not that Johnny didn't like chess, because it was pretty good for a game without any special effects, but he didn't know other people liked it as well, until he showed up with a board and a worryingly hopeful expression.

"NO-ONE EVER WANTS TO PLAY WITH ME," he'd said. "AND I ALWAYS ASK." And he'd looked so hopeful…

Almost like he did right now, in fact. "Okay," Johnny said, sitting down. "But this is the last time, really. I've got school tomorrow."


jamjar: (five buck dick)
"My mum wants to know if your lot want something to drink," Yo-less said. "Tea or juice. Or coffee," he added, giving Kon a look he'd come to recognise as "you're *American*. They have guns and 42 flavours of icecream and wear lycra bodysuits in public."

"There's biscuits. Ginger nuts. And mum wants to know if you're staying for tea," he added.


"'Cause if you are, mum says she'll have to go down to the shops, and that'll have to wait until the high street's clear again." Yo-less gestured at the large red, yellow and green dragon that was occupying most of the high street, and the young girls, dressed in costume or Top Shop's finest, that were tied to the streetlights in front of Woolworths. "But it probably won't take that much longer."

"I--" Superboy started to say. "Shouldn't you be freaking out more? I mean, I get that you have this whole Giles thing going for you with the Englishness and the tweed and--"

"I'm not wearing tweed! Why does everyone always think I'm wearing tweed?"

"--but there are dragons, like real *dragons* and Robin and I should be *helping*..."

Yo-less shrugged. "Well, this sort of the things always happening around Johnny. It's best just to leave him to, and be ready to lend a hand if he starts seeing invisible bugs that are really there. Don't you get cold?"


"You know, going out like that." Yo-less made a vague gesture at Superboy's costume. "I'd get cold."

"I'm used to it. And it's not real spandex."

"Oh." Yo-less looked around, searching for a safe topic of conversation.

What Yo-less had meant, of course, was not "Don't you get cold," but "Don't you get embarassed, walking around like that in public, though at least you've got your underwear on the inside, if you're wearing any, because I can't see any lines."

What Superboy meant in his reply was, "No, I don't get cold."

"You think it's going to take much--" And then they were both looking, because Johnny was gesturing wildly and trying to explain something to the dragon, or possibly the girls, and then the dragon was-- it was Robin and it was the dragon and it was both at the same time while being physically separate and Johnny kissed him and then--

Then there was a row of shops, and Cassie helping some civilians out of their ropes and Johnny and Robin walking towards them.

"What just happened?" Kon said, not quite grabbing Robin and running, but close.

"It was the stories. Like a, a--"

"A cultural mythology," Robin said. "Paired with a possible dimensional intrusion."

"So it wasn't real? Just like a hologram or mirage or something."

"No," said Johnny. "They are real. They're *really* real, or else they couldn’t be imaginary here. Or the other way around."

"But they're gone now?" Yo-less said. He looked around a little nervously. The dragons hadn't been too bad, but the Prince Charmings had been quite frankly, terrifying to a young boy in the formative stages of his development. "And everyone's back to normal."

Johnny nodded. "The extra stuff's all gone back to where it wasn't before."

"Where it wasn't…?"

Johnny shrugged. "It helps if you don't think about it."

jamjar: (five buck dick)
I *will* write a proper crossover drabble, but this came out of my head anyway.

Bart doesn't name names, but you can fill in the blanks.

DCU/Johnny Maxwell crossover, in my head at least.

"Bart," Tim said. "How's the exchange trip going?"

"Really great! But England is really, really strange. I think that's why it doesn't have so many heroes, is just because no-one *notices* this stuff, 'cause it's happeningallthetime."

"Yeah?" And the key to successful communication with Bart, Tim had long since decided, was to make sure you had a recording somewhere so you could play it back slowly later. "Have you met anyone interesting?" He said, switching the recording function on, lowering the volume slightly and bringing up weather patterns for the Gotham/Bludhaven area.

"Yeah,but they'reallykinda *strange*, y'know?"

"Yeah?" Hmm, looked like the pressure was going to drop at around two.

"And there's this boy, he's got like--"

Was worth substituting two regular Batarangs for electro-shock ones, given the 58% chance of rain?


"Uh-huh." Of course, it could be a good time to test the new prototype ribbon shockers. Bruce had wanted to wait until Fall, and more consistently damp weather, but now might be as good a time as any.


"Really?" He could check with Oracle, see if there was anything important happening tonight.


"Weird." If there was nothing significant in the works, he could pass by the cave before patrolling and pick up the new prototype shockers.

"--TitaniajusthasissuesorsomethingsoifBatmanstartsscreamingaboutfairyringsandgrowing, like,prettylittlebutterflywings,that'swhathappenedand its *totally* not my fault."

"Oka-- wait?"


Communicators don't have a ring tone, and when Bart hung up there was nothing but silence.

Tim stared at the screen.

Testing the prototypes could wait until Fall.



jamjar: (Default)

October 2017

123456 7


RSS Atom