Action/Video

[willneversayyes]

Sam knows before he opens his eyes that he isn't in the same place he'd fallen asleep. He's on the ground instead of a bed, and the light is different. Brighter than it should be inside. He also gets the distinct feeling that he's alone; he hears birds chirping instead of his brother's breathing.

The hunter opens his eyes to a bright blue sky. He's laying in a patch of grass in the middle of a city- LA, maybe? He's only been once or twice- surrounded by things that don't make sense. He can see the tip of the Eiffel Tower over the edge of an adjacent building, but the pizza place across the street looks like it belongs in downtown Manhattan. Where the hell is he?

He pushes to his feet, trying to get his bearings. There are no aches or pains anywhere that would make him think he'd been attacked and dragged here, but then how did he get here? And where is Dean?

A quick patting of his jeans reveals a device he's never seen before. Small, but high tech. It's the only thing on him. He doesn't even have his gun. That sets him even more on edge.

He fiddles with the device for a moment. It seems to be connected to a central network of some kind, which implies that there are people in the area. He should be able to send some sort of signal out to them. Here goes nothing.

"Hey, is anyone there?" he calls. It's just his luck to get thrown into an alternate dimension without his brother or a way to protect himself. "Can anyone hear me?"

POST DATED Before Event / Action

[vivifier]

 So. Today was the day. 

Today was the day for decorating an apartment. He'd postponed it and put it off as much as he could, and he could put it off no longer. Not without some serious invasions of his privacy and said apartment.  Apparently, a couch, a bed, a coffee table and dishes 'wasn't enough for habital living' .  Ridiculous. It was way better than where he'd lived when he was fighting Team Flash.  

Wasn't it?

Hiding Away - [action - locked to Savitar]

[bringstheheat]

Sara was gone.
Snart was gone.
Hell, the flock of hatchlings were gone with the exception of little Haircut.

Training in Egypt wasn't helping. Watching the fire curl around his limbs and obey his commands wasn't helping. So Mick slipped from the apartment. Ghosted from one place to another. Drinking. Eating. Trying to fill the empty chasm in his chest left as the two people who had been his anchors, his touchstones, had been ripped away yet again.

Even stealing a supply of speedster booze hadn't helped.

He was tired. He was sick and exhausted. A fever making the world swim and an ache settling into his joints like they were made of ground glass. So as Mick slips into a feverish doze, he barely notices the way Haircut Jr flies off, tiny alarmed chirps filling the air.

He can find help.
Somewhere.