Rooms

Who: Gwen Stacy and Jason Todd
What: Stowing Carnage (AKA, a very bad decision)
Where: DC Comics, Jason's warehouse with the kidlets
When: Now
Warnings/Rating: None

( As snap decisions went there was a pretty good chance he was going to regret this one eventually. He had never been one for too much analysis of where his feelings took him, even if they took him clear off the edge sometimes. )

[Shane has no fucking idea where he is. One second he's watching TV in the black of his fucking tiny living room (and probably dozing off), cat on his lap, and the next, it's dawn, and he's peeling himself off the ground in a goddamn forest, moss sticking to the bare skin of his arms and neck. Dew beads in his eyelashes. He sits up with a curse, keeping his head, amazingly, and looks around. His bike is parked nearby, loaded up, somehow, some fucking way, with an old canvas bag of his, and some fucking guns and that's when Shane stands up, his bones creaking.

Only then does he notice he's not alone. The smell of the dead hasn't hit him yet, or the sounds. For now, all he sees is Graham, seemingly alive and well, thank fuck.] What the fuck is going on?

[Luke could get back to the hotel, and he considered that a tiny victory. The problem was that he couldn’t get out, which definitely made him panic, but he’d realized after talking to Wren that he needed to stay calm. He needed to be strong. He had to do these things for her, because otherwise they were both going to fall apart and that couldn’t happen. Okay, so they apparently had a house in a version of New York that wasn’t real, and he had a key to SHIELD and she had a key somewhere else, somewhere she was apparently supposed to work, but those were things he put aside for the moment. He could figure them out later. Right now his priorities were simple: find Wren, and find the kids. Everything else could wait.

He made his way to the lobby, and after looking around, figured the row of doors was probably what Max was talking about in terms of storage units. But he didn’t go investigating; no, not yet. He had to find Wren first.]

Wren?

[This wasn't the hospital. She was real sure of that.

The house was some old place, and she could see dust lining every damn surface of the kitchen she was in. Old stove, and her back was flat up against it. She was still wearing a hospital gown, but she'd been moving around before this happened. Her hair was still dripping light brown from the dye Graham had brought, and everyone said she took after her sister when she didn't go to the trouble of making it blonde. She'd been dyeing it since Lorelei died, since that very day, and she looked down at the dripping strands before she forced herself to standing.]

Anyone here? [Her voice echoed through the empty house, and she had no clue what was waiting outside in the sunlight. She brushed some wayward blood off her forehead, and she climbed the stairs slow; she needed something to wear, and then she'd suss things out.]

What in the bloody hell is going on? I have a lot of work to deal with in Las Vegas.

No no no no nonono I don't have anything My feet are cold [Typed, with typos.]

can we get back? has amyone figured how to get back?

[Thin light through a lot of coated, smoked glass. The building is quiet; the low electronic hum of the air-conditioning is absent and the few sounds are the routine of the clean-up crew moving through. Someone is vacuuming two doors over. The break room is a standard feature for all floors, although this one is usually full of suits rather than the engineering students and interns who pass through Stark with a hope of seeing the man himself. Pepper is parked at the table, the blue glow of Stark-tech tablet lighting the room. She should be in her office - but the heavy smell of fresh-brewed coffee gives the clue as to why she's here. Proximity to the coffee pot. At the sound of someone entering, she points to it before she looks up]

Steve. I didn't know whose shift it was.

who are all these other people writing here? how are you doing this?

[Locked to Bruce Banner]

Have you noticed the journals, Robert? Or should I purr a little before getting to the point? Oh, and I'm back to normal, in case you were wondering. At risk of sounding like a stalker, I can't locate the Bat Do you think people could disappear during this fiasco? What's your scientific opinion, doctor?