Best. Prompt. Ever.

People sometimes miss War, starting trouble with a well-placed sniper shot killing a vital peacekeeper. Other times, the soldier with the shiny arm assassinates his target on prime time TV.

Conquest is impossible to miss. He struts around, making bigger and better weapons, selling them to the highest bidder. Sometimes though, he sneaks a few small but deadly ideas to the underdog.

Famine is rarely seen and never remembered. He is a slight, blond young man always as skinny as those dying. If someone remembers him and notice that he's missing, they simply assume that he's passed through the River Styx instead of walking to the next town.

Pestilence claims he's not that kind of doctor, but people come to him because some he touches become well... for a short while. Most do not.

Death is as silent as a ghost, stealing from shadow to shadow. She is equally at ease at the side of War or Famine. Her hair is red as blood and her smile has led many a person to their doom. Never try to bargain with her; for just as you believe in your victory, she snaps her trap shut. She gets us all in the end.

Edited at 2015-05-09 10:19 pm (UTC)

Link: http://kitteninthedark.livejournal.com/249639.html

Extract

"Haven't we been here before?" she mused out loud, somehow unsurprised that she and Angel had managed to come full circle again. Even in this. "Me, chasing after one of the bad guys and thinking you're going to be reasonable and help me out. You, not doing either."

Angel quirked a smile at the summary of their confrontation over Faith. "Or," he countered, "you, focused on revenge, while I'm trying to stop you from killing someone who wouldn't defend herself."

Buffy bristled. "This is different."

"Not really."

... would you want an actual Hufflepuff or someone who convinces the Hat to Sort them into Hufflepuff so they can slip beneath the radar?

"Well, this is... something."

The police dispatch had mentioned a drunk Captain Cold loitering around the temporary ice rink Central City had recently installed, and since it was already past the end of his shift Barry had decided to be magnanimous and haul Len's ass off the streets himself on the way home, before the man could do something stupid and actually get arrested. What the dispatch didn't mention, though, was that the Rogue wasn't alone.

On the sidewalk, propped against a wall and still holding a bottle in his hand despite being possibly passed out, was Leonard Snart. But on the ice rink, also clearly completely drunk, was Lisa Snart.

Barry watched with a degree of morbid fascination the former professional skater do her best just to stay on her feet, sway left and right and then somehow manage a pirouette. He almost clapped at that, but was distracted by a pained groan coming from Len's general direction, and then as soon as he turned his head he heard a thud and some really creative cursing coming from Lisa.

In an instant the Flash was in front of Golden Glider, sprawled on the ice and looking extremely offended that gravity had done its job.

"I'm going to... ugh, I'm going to murder this ice rink."

Extending an hand, Barry tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he spoke "You won't do that by sitting on it."

"Just watch me!" she spit out, looking up. Then, finally noticing the Flash being there, her expression immediately morphed into one of devious happiness "Or we could make out."

The non sequitur floored Barry, who considered just making a run for it and leaving the siblings to fend for themselves. But he couldn't call himself a hero and leave someone in need passed out on the street, so, making sure not to slip on the ice, he grabbed Lisa and carried her on the sidewalk before she could blink.

Finding herself on more solid ground, the Golden Glider pouted.

"Is that a no? I'll let you know you're missing out on..." she closed her eyes and groaned "Okay, fine, maybe next time. Now take me home so I can sleep this off."

Barry let out a laugh and made sure to have a good hold on Lisa before sprinting off.