ARFD is a DC Comics roleplaying forum that takes place just before the crossover event "Flashpoint" which was published in 2011. Anything leading up to this point is considered canonical on our forum and part of the narrative backdrop and context of the DCU and the characters therein. Anything that occurs after it (including the New-52 reboot and subsequent Rebirth reboot) are non-canonical and have no influence or presence on this forum.
Before registering an account on ARFD, we encourage you to read and familiarize yourselves with the following official threads, protocols and codes of conduct: LINKS HERE
Post by Jason Todd on Jul 17, 2018 22:10:43 GMT -5
LOIS LANE ACE REPORTER
Tap, tap, tap, her fingers moved leisurely across the keyboard. Her police scanner gave a low hum, occasionally spurting out words about a robbery or domestic disturbance. It was joined by the whistle of a janitor across the room. Otherwise, it was a fairly quiet night. She glanced at the muted television in the corner of the room, seeing that her husband was still busy helping with that earthquake in Thailand. It would probably be another hour or two before he was done. She turned her attention back to the document she was typing and promptly grimaced at the amount of red, squiggly lines that were underlining her words. And she thought she had that one word right, too…
She was promptly jolted as the sound of her desk phone ringing pierced the silence. She glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of her computer screen, wondering who would be calling her at this time of night.
Still, she picked it up and put it to her ear. “Lane.”
“Uh, hey, Lois…”
She chewed on the tip of her pen as she tried to place the voice. “Benny?”
“Yeah, uh, can you meet me…?”
A source wanting to meet? Personal experience told her this could go one of two ways. “Sure, where?”
Benny prattled off an address which she knew as an old liquor store. She frowned when he specified the alley behind the old liquor store. Typical. It wasn’t surprising, though; the guy was tattling some pretty sensitive material regarding some recent happenings in the local drug trade: drugs getting ripped off from their manufacturers and then sold at a cheaper price.
She saved what she had of her story so far, shut down her computer, and grabbed her purse. On her way to the elevator she called a goodnight to the janitor and received well-wishes in return. It didn’t take her long to drive to the location, the traffic in the city dying down as the hour became later.
After arriving, she stepped out of the car, hand clutching the strap of her purse as it hung from her shoulder. The only sounds were that of the occasional car and the click of her heels as she walked around the liquor store and into the alley. She raised an eyebrow slightly as she caught sight of Benny, wearing a hoodie and just out of range of the streetlight. "Alright, Benny, what have you got?”
He fidgeted. “Uh, look, Lois, I think I have to back out…”
“What?” she demanded, walking up to him. He backed up a few steps, intimidated. The hand not holding her purse strap went to her hip and she narrowed her eyes. “Have they threatened you?”
He fidgeted again, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Uh…”
She let out a sigh, eyeing him. Really, she was less irritated at him and more so at them. “If they’re threatening you, I have connections. You can be protected.”
But then something behind her was catching Benny’s eyes and something hard was hitting the back of her head and everything was going black and wow she’ll never live this down.
When she finally woke up, she couldn’t keep the grimace off her face. For one, her head hurt. Secondly, this place smelled. Honestly, the smell was probably worse than the headache—she’d had hangovers worse than this, if she was being honest. She cracked her eyes open, eyeing the moldy walls of the apartment she was in. Well, that explains the smell. She was surprised, as she shifted slightly, that she wasn’t tied up. They’d probably been banking on her being out for longer. If so, they’d severely underestimated the amount of times she’d been hit over the head. She glanced at an old clock on the wall, seeing that she’d only been out for a couple hours. She caught the sound of voices and focused on making out their words.
“-asking too many questions. We didn’t have a choice.”
“We need to move. Like, right now.”
“And where do you suggest, dips**t?”
“I don’t know! Maybe Canada. Do they have heroes in Canada? I heard they have free healthcare, though, which would be pretty cool.”
“God, shut the hell up, man.”
Alright, Lane, you’ve been in stickier situations than this. Literally. She briefly remembered a time she’d been working on an expose that focused on a candy company’s connection to the drug trade. In retaliation, they had tried to make Lois flavored candy just in time for Valentine’s Day. She’d been washing caramel out of her hair for weeks.
She sat up, cautiously watching the door that led to the room where the men’s voices were coming from. Her eyes then landed on her purse, sitting on a decrepit table, and she couldn’t help but smirk slightly, knowing her trusty ol’ can of mace was in there.
She stood up, but that was when the door opened and the two men stilled at the sight of a clearly conscious Lois Lane. The man who she assumed was in charge narrowed his eyes and walked up to her. “Look, Lane, we don’t want to mess with you too much, but-”
She didn’t let him finish, her knee connecting with his groin a moment before she flew her fist straight into his face. The man stumbled backwards, tripping on a chair and falling to the ground. She made eye contact with the wide eyes of the other man, before dashing across the room toward her purse. The other man seemed to finally collect him, going to intercept her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind. She let out a grunt as she was brought to a halt, but didn’t hesitate in stomping down on his foot with her heel before jabbing his gut sharply with her elbow. With a pained gasp, he released her and she reached her purse. Her hand scrambled through her purse, before clutching onto her mace. She turned around just in time to spray it straight into the face of the other man. The first man was there quickly as well, but earned nothing but his own face full of pepper spray. Both men let out yowls and clutched their faces.
She then went to dig her phone out of her purse to call 911, but was distracted by movement outside the window. A familiar man in red and blue lowered himself to look at her through the window. He had his arms crossed, an eyebrow cocked, and the faintest of grins tugging at his lips.
Ignoring the yowling men behind her, she grinned casually. “So, how’s Thailand?”
Post by Jason Todd on May 26, 2020 18:35:30 GMT -5
DAWN GRANGER DOVE
Dawn blew lightly on her coffee, watching the steam sway in the air briefly before returning to its original path. The little cafe on the edge of campus was bustling with fellow students grabbing a pick-me-up in-between classes or wishing to enjoy a hot beverage as they study. The atmosphere wasn't currently the most quiet, which was why Dawn tended to prefer to study in her apartment. She wasn't here for studying anyway, though.
Across from her sat Hank Hall: her partner, her friend, her "complicated." He looked bored out of his mind. He'd downed his coffee in a few quick gulps, making Dawn wince in sympathy for his throat. Now, he was spinning his mug around on the table, the grinding sound of the ceramic against the wood starting to drive Dawn kinda nuts.
The mug was in the middle of another spin, when she reached out and grabbed the object, stilling it. She let out a sigh. "Would you like a refill?" Hank gave her a look, because she knew what he really wanted: to go back to bed. Nevermind it was the middle of the afternoon.
They'd admittedly had a late night last night with the Birds of Prey. The team had taken on about five stories full of smugglers who dabbled in everything from drugs to illegal weaponry to people. While her preference was always for a nonviolent resolution to conflict, there was always something at least a little satisfying about kicking the asses of those kind of people.
She released Hank's mug, leaned back in her chair, and brought her own cup to her lips, now that the temperature was no longer scalding. Last night's mission had been successful, but long as well. They were both now only going off a few hours of sleep, so she couldn't blame Hank for wanting to sleep the day away. She'd seriously considered skipping her classes for the day, as well.
But something--a sort of instinct from deep in her gut--told her not to leave him alone: not to let him stew in his dark apartment all day. There'd been something off about him since he came back from the dead: like all the turmoil he normally carried within him had only increased. It worried her and frustrated her even more that she didn't know what to do about it. It was her job, wasn't it, to bring peace to his chaos? She wasn't sure she was doing such a good job of that, lately.
Nevertheless, it'd only taken some minor prying and literal dragging on her part to get him to accompany her to the cafe before her classes. She'd been hoping the quaint little cafe would help him relax, but he seemed just as amped up as ever.
She checked the time on her phone and let out another sigh. "Class starts soon." She rose from her seat, mug in hand. "I'll see you later, Hank." She didn't mean to let her exhaustion creep into her voice, but it had. Something--guilt, she thought--flickered across Hank's face, but she was already stepping away toward the counter to get a to-go cup. They'd talk later, she promised herself. She wasn't giving up on him--wasn't sure if she ever could, but right now, she needed to take some time to find her own peace first.
A RECIPE FOR DISASTER is a literate role-playing forum based on the DC Comics Universe. All character, organizations, locations, entities and so forth are credited to DC and associations. All official methods, protocol, etc. are credited to the staff of ARFD. This includes (but is not limited to) templates, rules, premise, etc. All individualized aspects of the forum, such as in-character posts, plots, etc. are credited to the members of ARFD. Thievery will not be tolerated.
The skin was created by Timelapse of Wicked Wonderland. The banner image was made by Star of ARFD. ARFD is in association with MFT.