Rooms

I ate the entire Advent Calendar.

What's ice skating?

What's an Advent Calendar?

What's this journal with writing appearing? I never believed in an afterlife, much less one with communication. If I could contact the real world, Setzer

[Saturday's edition of the Daily Bugle includes a teensy picture of vigilante in white and black, webs on her sleeves and under her hoodie, face entirely obscured by a white mask. The story that accompanies is J. Jonah Scathing™. Kittens rescued from mean trees, old women getting the cracked tennis balls on their walkers randomly replaced, and a car thief tied up with pink zip ties and left with ample hydration. Lock up your children, ladies and gentlemen, and what is this world coming to? The paper calls the vigilante Spider-Woman because, well, webs, and no one said reporters were creative. The story's short, and it moves from condemnation of vigilantes to praising new healthcare cuts in order to increase the weapon budget. Go Weapons of Mass Destruction!]

[After he sees this.]

Okay, who's trying to steal my thunder?

Who: Winter Soldier (narrative)
What: A bit of a jaunt in the Ukraine.
Where: Eastern Ukraine, near the border with Russia, just north of Crimea.
When: After this.
Warnings/Rating: Unfortunate ideas, death.

( There was, though, a flicker of raw pleasure, small, just a kernel, at having an opinion. )

[Gwen S.]
[Shouted from the living room]

PARKER IS FLIRTING WITH HIS CLONE AND IT'S FUCKING GROSS. ARE YOU SEEING THIS.