Repose

[A model of the specified car in a presentational box. With it goes a pair of antique cufflinks. The card is plain stock, the handwriting male. 'For the gentleman with the expensive taste. These are nineteenth century. Classic.'. There is also a bottle of extremely good whiskey with the two other packages.]

[Out of the blue.]

Who missed me?


[And because their last call dropped, he phones MJ directly. Ring, ring.]

[Harry. R]

Let's make this no more difficult than it has to be.

[As Sunshine F.]

Welcome back to the time of year where you have to decide if dealing with the fucking temperature is worth whatever you have to go outside for. When I'm rich and famous (ha fucking ha!) I'll just have someone deliver all my shit to me.

[Edit to Harry R.]
[After her conversation with Gwen. As Marta F.]

What the fuck, asshole?!?

[Locked to Harry R]
Hey, Harry.

[There's a slight situation on the science campus in the Facility. A young male, name withheld, is found within RyCorp's secure level and escorted out by RyCorp guards. It is believed he entered the level through another level within the building, though the situation is still being investigated. Guards are being questioned, and security is, at the request of RyCorp, being strengthened. There are rumors, of course, about the purpose of the break-in, and they range from the very fanciful (someone was being kept prisoner!) to the most trite (he simply got lost on the way to the bathroom!). Whatever the reason, it means that guests and visitors are restricted for the time being.]

Who: Gwen, Perry, Harry (with Jason on surveillance)
What: Checking on Harry
Where: Facility: League → RyCorp
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: TBD

( Good luck, okay? And be careful. )

[Spidey Kids]

Hey, so Harry called me this morning and he sounded like he was in pretty bad shape. While we were on the phone, someone showed up at his place and took him. Gwen and I checked it out and it looks like a professional job, no dealer shit. His dad called him the night before, so we think it's possible it has something to do with him.

The good news is that I think his dad probably saved his fucking life. We found a shit ton of blood on the scene and IDK how much longer he had if that was his (Gwen can you confirm?). The bad news is who knows what the fuck will happen to him now. We gotta get him out or at least see where he's at.

Ideas? I gotta- my sister's in the fucking ER so I can't do shit right now, but once I make sure she's okay I'll do whatever I can.

[Harry R: call

Ring

[And following this, theres some phone ringing.]

Who: Harry Ryan
What: A reveal, if you look even a little bit close
Where: Harry's apartment, then mystery locale
When: Morning after party ends


Harry couldn't remember how he'd gotten home, but that wasn't anything new for Harry when it came to parties. That wasn't anything new for Harry on a run of the mill Monday morning. He was beyond fucked up, and that too, wasn't anything new. None of this was new, you understand, that is why he wasn't worried. This wasn't the first time that he'd woken up on the floor beside his bed, floral sheets tangled around his head, the taste of stomach acid and too much liquor on his tongue. This wasn't even the first time that he'd woken up bleeding, but by the time he pulled the sheet off of his eyes, everything looked way too red for it be normal. This wasn't a skateboarding injury or late night fuck-the-world cutting aftermath. This shit was deep, and the sheet was stuck to him like glue in places where the wounds were already trying to dry.

He couldn't move his neck, he couldn't even hardly lift his hands to rub the sleaze drag of sleep out of his eyes. His palms scrambled for pills on his nightstand, pain pills benzos, muscle relaxers, whatever... but they weren't there. He must have already taken them, there was a beer bottle beside the bed and its label was streaked in blood, but he didn't remember drinking that either, and he didn't think that he felt drunk. He wasn't sure that he was feeling much of anything beside the cold.

He sniffled, trying to find his phone in the sheets he'd become tornadoed with. There were fishnet stockings in the twist, and he didn't know where those came from either, although the size 11 platform heels in the corner might have been able to jog his memory.

He had a cotton tee shirt on vintage Ramones, mostly white, bought way for too much money off of Ebay(and potentially not even legit, but that wasn't the biggest issue right now!) The white was soaked through in blood, it clung red to his sparrow chest and even trying to get off of the floor made his skin tear all over again.

"What the fucking corndog hell..." It wasn't shouted, but groaned into a fistful of sheets while Harry continued to try and find his footing, or at least his kneecaps. None of the lights were on in the apartment, not even the glittery Christmas lights strung over his bed, and it was all kinds of disorienting to be getting a degree of light directly from the small window above the arcade.

His phone was blinking from between his knees, and Harry tried to read the names, numbers, or texts but he couldn't. His vision was too blurry, and he rolled onto his back against the ice cold floor of his apartment. The combination of pills and blood loss and who knows what else that left Harry spinning from the floor. He felt sick, cold, dizzy. Symptoms of blood loss or overdose, he didn't know, he couldn't even tell how bad his wounds were because blood was literally everywhere. It was all over his bed and his bedding and his body, and he might have thrown up if his stomach hadn't been so desperate to hold onto the last of the hydration it was due.

Phone in his hand, and permed wig lost somewhere in the background, Harry squinted one eye to discern his recent calls. Weird, there was one from his dad. He didn't remember that. Harry's vision went useless blur again, and he squint-mashed at a couple of keys until his phone started to ring. He really had no idea who he was calling.

[Spidey Crew:]

uuhh I was stuck at work all night but you guys good?

[Gwen R.]

diner?

[Sunshine F.]

yo I gotta go check on Gwen but you good?

[Locked to Perry P]
Hi. I attempted to contact you before, in order to apologize, and I deleted the message when you didn't immediately respond. I realize now that I should have allowed the apology to remain.

I'm sorry.

[Locked to Harry R]
Sorry for getting sick.

[As Sunshine F.]

[Public]
So I'm looking for a guy and I don't know if he's in this town or not. Going out on a limb. His name's Philip and he used to use a stupidass nickname that I refuse to use because it's stupid.

[Pesha and Destiny]
Hey. This is fucking awkward, but I want to apologize.

[Harry]
[After this. And under her real name. She's feeling nostalgic, enough to overcome the reticence to use her actual name.]

Too many assholes showing up in this town.

[After this.] Hey. Want to come over later?

[Public]

So you can buy a cupcake, a hammer, votive candles but no clothes in this town. That's basically an excuse to go on a spree uptown.

[Flash]

Speaking of spree. Tell me you've clocked that the carousel shit is back to bite us in the ass.

[Gwen]

Have you chilled out now?

[Harry R: phone call]

Ring

Who: Harry and Felicity
When: Pre-bonfire
What: Sib-types hang with donuts
Warnings: Disgustingly sweet + creative swearing

( It sounded too remote, too many tropical drinks and not enough hard drugs. Did they even have a skate park? Probably not. )

[Ring! Ring!]

[Locked to Harry R]
[Late night, after this.]

Harry? You should totally check on Felicity. We went dancing, and someone tore her clothes and got super inappropriate with her, and she was bruised up.