(no subject)
WHO: doubleoohbaby and sdrawkcabcigam.
WHERE: Zatanna's place.
WHEN: Saturday, October 8th. Afternoon.
WARNINGS: TBA.
SUMMARY: A talking badger told James to go see Zatanna. And I accidentally tl;dr an action thread.
FORMAT: Action!
[Her and James arguing had become a regular thing. She'd already confessed to Arthur that she is petty and jealous at times, but with him it was easy to say. She'd told James, but only in regard to how she felt about Arthur. She was closer, she believed, to Arthur than she was James. At least on a more personal level. They were honest with one another and with James... it was like he never wanted anyone to see beyond the mask he had so perfectly in place. That mask was only one facet of his personality. The rest had to be coaxed out, but that didn't make it any less difficult to deal with. Candid moments with him were rare; it always went back to the same thing with James.
Really, though, she was no better. At least she would admit to it. She would admit to it and then bring someone closer with the truth. She would eventually be honest with herself and the other party. James, on the other hand, it felt to her like he would just pile more and more and more up, until he was buried.
She knew she should talk to him, but not today. Maybe next week. It was Saturday and it was still pleasantly warm out. There's a pitcher of iced tea and a half-empty (rather than half-full) glass set on the small table in the sun room of her house and a few feet from there, on the large wicker chair, Zatanna is sprawled out with a book and cat on her lap. Her head is tilted back and her eyes are closed, but she's not quite asleep. At least not now that she hears the doorbell ringing, anyway. With a groan, she gets to her feet and taps the page of the book she was on and a bookmark appears before it shuts itself and floats off to settle beside the iced tea.
Bare feet quietly pad on the floor as she crosses into the kitchen, then hall (where the cat catches up to her) to the living room. She smooths out her t-shirt and tugs down on her shorts before quickly smoothing her hair and adjusting her ponytail (it might be someone she liked, after all). When she opens the door and sees who is standing before her, her smile falters and twists into something more subdued. She can't let him have the upper hand, can't let him feel as if everything is okay -- or like he's hurt her with the stupid things that he's said.] Yes? Is there something you want?
WHERE: Zatanna's place.
WHEN: Saturday, October 8th. Afternoon.
WARNINGS: TBA.
SUMMARY: A talking badger told James to go see Zatanna. And I accidentally tl;dr an action thread.
FORMAT: Action!
[Her and James arguing had become a regular thing. She'd already confessed to Arthur that she is petty and jealous at times, but with him it was easy to say. She'd told James, but only in regard to how she felt about Arthur. She was closer, she believed, to Arthur than she was James. At least on a more personal level. They were honest with one another and with James... it was like he never wanted anyone to see beyond the mask he had so perfectly in place. That mask was only one facet of his personality. The rest had to be coaxed out, but that didn't make it any less difficult to deal with. Candid moments with him were rare; it always went back to the same thing with James.
Really, though, she was no better. At least she would admit to it. She would admit to it and then bring someone closer with the truth. She would eventually be honest with herself and the other party. James, on the other hand, it felt to her like he would just pile more and more and more up, until he was buried.
She knew she should talk to him, but not today. Maybe next week. It was Saturday and it was still pleasantly warm out. There's a pitcher of iced tea and a half-empty (rather than half-full) glass set on the small table in the sun room of her house and a few feet from there, on the large wicker chair, Zatanna is sprawled out with a book and cat on her lap. Her head is tilted back and her eyes are closed, but she's not quite asleep. At least not now that she hears the doorbell ringing, anyway. With a groan, she gets to her feet and taps the page of the book she was on and a bookmark appears before it shuts itself and floats off to settle beside the iced tea.
Bare feet quietly pad on the floor as she crosses into the kitchen, then hall (where the cat catches up to her) to the living room. She smooths out her t-shirt and tugs down on her shorts before quickly smoothing her hair and adjusting her ponytail (it might be someone she liked, after all). When she opens the door and sees who is standing before her, her smile falters and twists into something more subdued. She can't let him have the upper hand, can't let him feel as if everything is okay -- or like he's hurt her with the stupid things that he's said.] Yes? Is there something you want?