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".. so what are you telling me?"

Nate's voice is bright with excitement, the same earnest delight when he's uncovered another unknown facet of history. "You asked me to look into Lincoln, so I did. I started with the bigger stuff, you know, arrested for the murder of the Vice President's brother, later exonerated--"

"I know all that. I got that from Gideon. You said you had something new?"

"Just wait, hang on." There's a shuffling of papers before he pulls out the right information. "Here. Lincoln was adopted by Aldo Burrows when he was young. The adoption happened in Keystone." A pause. Nothing? Okay. "Mick, Lincoln was adopted when his family burned to death in a fire. The old Rory farm."

"What're you saying?"

"Mick. The reason Lincoln looked so much like you, like identical, is because he was your brother. Aldo Burrows adopted him out of Keystone right after the fire killed your family. Not everyone died in the fire."


Brother.
All these years and Mick never even knew.

As he stumbles out of the library, intent on a drink or ten, he doesn't notice if anyone might have been standing nearby.

He had a brother.
His brother had looked out for Leonard and then went off and died for him without even knowing how they were tied together.

Jesusfuck.
bringstheheat: (I don't FEEL)
started

[He's almost as bad as Barry, wearing his heart on his sleeve like that. But it's also good because Mick knows his partner has a good guy in Osborn.]
Lotta those scars he took was so she didn't have to.

He's a cagey prick, and whatever he did he probably had coming.

But Snart's got his reasons.

You're the first good thing he's had in a long damn time and he's terrified he's gonna lose it, that one day you'll go back to Daddy and leave him.
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Mick isn't sure when it happened, to be quite honest. The number of friends could be counted on one hand, but recently that number had grown by one. Cisco Ramon. One of the brains of Team Flash and while Mick wasn't a fan of the kid in the suit, he'd grown to like Ramon. He treated him normally. Talked to him like he was a human being with thoughts and emotions and it's a true testament to how fucked his life is that something like that isn't the norm.

Whatever. Mick doesn't care.

The point was, Cisco had become his friend and friends did things for one another, right?

Which is why on Christmas Eve, Mick is dragging a struggling, swearing and slightly terrified figure by the scruff up to an apartment door before hammering on it with his free fist. "Quit squirming or I swear I'm gonna knock you out again."

He'd done the calculations, used Gideon to confirm everything before stealing the jump ship to bring Cisco what he hoped was a decent thank you.

".. hijo de puta! Put me down!"

Huff. Mick simply bangs harder on the door. Cisco had better hurry up.
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Grief counseling was a ridiculous idea. Even back in juvie Mick had just stared down the overworked counselors, the ones that tried to reach him before writing him off as a pyromaniac and a brute.

But Mick is seeing his dead partner everywhere and if he doesn't figure something out soon he's going to break. All he's been doing is marking time since the Oculus, since he woke up to find out that his partner (his lover, his whole everfucking world) was dead. He'd left him behind and Mick didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.

Sara is worried that he's suicidal, a thought he openly scoffs at.

He'd made a promise to Snart a long time ago that he wouldn't take that way out and dead partner or no, it's a promise he means to keep.

So he hangs back, he doesn't say much or look around until the kid walks in. Ramon. Part of the team that Flash had assembled to stop the Dominators. Huh. Small world, right?

Chicago

Nov. 19th, 2016 11:58 am
bringstheheat: (I don't FEEL)
Chicago.

The wind whipping off the river was just as bitterly cold as Mick remembered. Ten years ago on that very spot his partner and best friend had stepped into his arms and everything had changed. They'd gone back to their safehouse and didn't leave the warmth of their bed for the entire weekend. Moving together in bed, showing affection and want with their bodies because they could never find the right words.

It feels like lifetimes ago. Before the Flash, before the Waverider and Chronos and losing the one person who mattered the most to him.

Sure they were wrapping up another job in 1927 Chicago and Mick had been as reckless as ever. Charging into fights. Practically willing someone to take him down. Physical pain would at least be easier to bear. There are drugs to numb that.

Nothing has been able to numb the ache in his chest, the empty void that Snart had left behind.

He's not suicidal, at least not enough to put a round in his own head. Mick is angry and stubborn, too stubborn to check out just because he'd lost Len. His partner. His husband.

Mick tucks the ring back underneath his shirt. He should get back before Haircut and Nate blow up the damn ship.

Maybe another minute.

"Goodbye Snart." You asshole.
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His name was Mick.

He could remember that much. A warm voice crooning to him while he was still in his shell, telling him his name and his birthright. Fire. Beautiful, changing, defining flame. They were the memories that sustained him during his capture and eventual enslavement. A half-breed was rare enough that he fetched a pretty high price on the wizarding black market and Mick despised every one of his owners.

Druse had been the worst. Denying him fire, denying him his born power. He’d tried to mold him into the perfect assassin and for the sake of only brief freedoms, Mick had played along. Choosing to answer to Chronos and assassinate anyone who got in his way. It wasn’t the best life but it gave him the freedom to fly once in a long while and Mick relished those times almost as much as when he would secretly summon fire. Kept locked away in a tower when he wasn’t needed, he could hold the fire in his hand and watch it for hours. Raw and beautiful and it was Mick’s first and only love.

Then a deal had been brokered and Mick found himself with a new owner. Whatever. New name, same demands. He knew the score by now.

What he didn’t expect was for the wizard in question to have a Tiefling for a son. And Leonard Snart was intriguing. He looked at Mick carefully, like he was a complex puzzle that required solving. A year into his tenure and they had become friends, or at least as close to friends as Mick had ever had in his life. Len never called him Chronos. He simply shrugged and asked for something to call him by and without hesitating, Mick gave him his true name. Snart was quick, intelligent and a hell of a lot better at magic than his idiot father. They’d work together on jobs, always reporting back and if Lenny started to hold back some of what they had stolen, Mick never commented on it. He might never be free, but he’d make sure Len and his sister could start their own lives.
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Leave it to someone like Snart to find a way to escape even death.

Two weeks ago the Waverider had been frantically messaged by STAR Labs. Ramon, the kid who had come up with the gun that Mick wore and the cold gun he hadn't been able to bring himself to touch in the last month, had news on Snart. He wasn't dead, but trapped somehow in the timestream. The explosion must have blown him clear, throwing him into time itself.

He should have known.

The argument to return to STAR Labs in 2016 was startlingly brief. Even Hunter didn't object, which came as something of a surprise.

So home they went, where it took another week of arguing and work to try and find a way to punch into time itself to drag Lenny's ass home. Even when they pulled him out it was another week of Len laying comatose in the medical bay before he started to show any signs of waking up. Mick was always there, watching him and honestly deliberating if he was going to knock him on his ass one more time for pulling that last stupid stunt.

Whatever. Mick would decide when Snart woke up.
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Mick is far from a morning person. Normally waking him up involves a good hard shove just to get his attention, particularly when he's sleeping in a large, soft bed with the woman he loved. Sara always slips out for an early morning run and while he might sleepily mutter in protest, throwing an arm out where she'd once been, it's never quite enough to get him out of bed.

So his favorite mornings are the ones when she takes off, skips a run in favor of some other form of exercise or just to laze in bed with him.

Considering the length and duration of Laurel Lance's birthday party last night, Mick is all for staying in bed.

Tequila is just fucking evil.

But there's a warm body curled close, blonde hair tickling his nose and Mick couldn't be happier. He's still on disability from the station, the scars on his arms still healing up, but he can move without stiffness and pain and that's light years from how bad it had been after the fire that had almost taken his life. Third degree burns, physical therapy and his insistence that he didn't give a damn about skin grafts. Save that for the people that really needed it.

He'll ask for a rubdown later, something to ease the lingering stiffness, but not right now. He's got Sara close and all is right with the damned world.
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Normally Mick didn't mind waking up. Waking up meant hot coffee, salty bacon and whatever else he could lay his hands on in the galley of the ship before the rest of the wolves descended. Gideon had long since given up any and all attempts to feed him anything that was low-fat, gluten-free (he'd almost burned the galley to a crisp for that shit) or anything else that resembled healthy.

Nope. A man needed caffeine, fat and carbs to get through the day and keep from killing anyone.

So why was he so reluctant to get out of bed?

Why was he recalling memories of a lithe body in his arms, a cascade of blonde hair and laughter that crawled up his spine and made him feel whole again?

Sara. As he passed by Len's bunk, watching the two of them playing cards it hits the big arsonist like a fucking freight train. Another life. Another timeline. Whatever it was, he and Sara had been together. In love. She'd been his fierce, bright star and he'd adored her for it right up until she glanced up at him, cool and assessing and it had been like a fucking heartstrike.

She didn't know.

Mick could recall years of them together, from the day that he'd first stolen a kiss until the day he'd sucked it up and dropped to one knee to ask her for forever and she remembered none of it. Nothing.

He avoided them both after that. Actively. Dodging Len and keeping his distance from Sara as best he could so it didn't trip anything else up. Not that it worked. Snart was too perceptive and Sara too smart not to pick up on the fact that something was wrong.

He had loved her. Still loved her.

Mick was completely and utterly fucked.
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Player's Name: What is your name? What is your quest? You get the idea
Contact info: Give us one or two good ways to contact you
DW: Your character journal
Character: Full character name including aliases
Canon: Where are they from?
Version: Is this an AU? Standard canon? If this is an OC please disregard
Canon Point:
Age:

History: We’re not looking for a novel. Either write out the basics or provide a wiki link. Not everyone knows everyone else’s canon so they need a resource to get a feel for who your character is.
If you are an OC this should be much more expansive. What world are they coming from? How close is it to ours? What are the differences? What are their motivations?

Strengths/Abilities: What are they good at? What do they excel in? Magical and mundane abilities count here. List out everything. Alterations or additions to this list must meet with mod approval prior to playing in game.

Supply List: Resources are scarce in the Outpost. But your Overlords have allowed a pack to be sent with you. What’s in it? Please keep your resources within reason as you may be asked to modify the list. Think about what you need to survive.

CR Transfers (this must be cleared by mods):

Sample RP post: This can be set in game or be a link to any other RP you’ve been involved in.
bringstheheat: (Default)
Player's Name: Methy
Contact info: Carrier pigeon or PM the journal
DW: bringstheheat
Character: Mick Rory – aka Heatwave and Chronos
Canon: Legends of Tomorrow/The Flash
Version: Standard Version
Canon Point: 1x16 “Legendary”
Age: 45 (approx.)

History: Pyromaniac. Thief. Ex-bounty hunter and somewhere along the way he started to become one of the good guys. But don’t call him a hero. Link here

Strengths/Abilities: Fighting with both weapons and bare fists. Put something in his hands and he’ll figure out how to use it. Mick has been a thief and arsonist for as long as he can remember. Not only does he understand fire, he has a strong knowledge of structures and spaces – where to best place a fire to bring a building down. It’s what he’s good at and he sticks to what he’s good at.
Thanks to his time spent at the Vanishing Point Mick has been given a strong understanding of temporal physics, how time operates and flows.

Supply List:
His heat gun – think of it as a powerful flame thrower in a more compact form, capable of firing intense blasts for flame.
A standard gun. A knife. Heavy leather gloves. A length of rope and a satchel of tools.

CR Transfers (this must be cleared by mods):

Sample RP post: This can be set in game or be a link to any other RP you’ve been involved in.
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