Who: Abigail Kenealy, then Natasha Romanoff When: Tonight at midnight. Where: The Passages Hotel Warnings: None Status: Closed; Narrative
The Passages Hotel.
She'd known about it now for a little while, but had avoided going despite the excitement of many others she'd spoken to over the past week. In fact, now that she sat in her jeep in front of the gate, she couldn't remember even deciding to go there. Really, she should be home, in bed, because she had a morning shift. Even as the thought ran through her mind, her hand reached out and pushed open her door as the right took her keys out of the ignition. Slipping them into her pocket, when the hand withdrew it held something else. Something that had shown up with that odd journal she'd received. After studying the lockpick for a long moment, Abigail sighed, then stepped up to the gate. In seconds, she was on the grounds and walking towards the door of the hotel itself. The pick seemed to let her inside almost too easily, and a part of Abigail immediately distrusted this place, this entire situation.
Despite her inner concerns, Abby found herself walking into the hotel and along the hallways. She didn't know where she was going, but somehow she knew that there was a specific place she had to be right now. When she finally stopped walking what seemed at once like ten years and only five minutes later, she stood before a simple wooden door with large gold numbers on it, numbers she didn't even bother with at the moment. Lifting the lockpick again, she spared herself one last moment of hesitation, then unlocked the door slowly and stepped inside.
The Russian opened her eyes and took her surroundings in within seconds. Stark Tower, New York. No, that wasn't right - Tony was in the midst of redesigning it. A glance upwards showed the simple "A" high above her, and after a moment she relaxed just a little. "'Bout time, Abigail," she murmured softly to the woman that was now in her head, then stepped inside the Tower.