Iris Morgenstern (unsteady) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-05-31 10:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !dc comics, *narrative, iris morgenstern |
Who: Iris
What: Narrative
Where: Gotham -> Wonderland (again)
When: After talking to Bruce (log coming), Hatter, and seeing her siblings talking about tabloids.
Warnings/Rating: Not really? Some sad and aversion to food.
She didn't know what to do. She hadn't heard from Bruce since he'd slipped back into the rain, and she'd finally figured out that Damian's body was gone, Ra's back in the city. Other than the paid employees that continued to pass through the penthouse every day, she spoke to no one else, never left the top floor of Wayne Towers. But apparently, according to a passing comment from Sam on an entry on the journals that she was convinced that she wasn't meant to be part of, not leaving the penthouse didn't stop the photographers from taking her picture and putting it out there. She could only imagine what the photos looked like or what was being said. It made her not want to leave the safe little corner of the closet in the master bedroom, hiding out until someone came in and tried to ply her with a bowl of soup.
The smell of it turned her stomach, but she remembered the worried look on Bruce's face and the battle of wills over a shared sandwich, and she knew that she should eat it. She knew, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Everything in her mind pulled back from it, and she knew that she couldn't keep going like she was. She'd always been broken, but she'd been allowed to be so in relative privacy. Even when the press was circling around her family, she had at least been able to hide at home. Now she couldn't even count on that.
But she knew a place where she could escape from the microscope of public curiosity. And that place welcomed her with open arms and a silly smile. She could forget, let the time pass in awkward skips and unmappable waves, let everything go for a while. And if someone did need her, they could always find her on the journals.
Even though the air of the penthouse made her shiver, she changed back into the dress she'd acquired her last time in Wonderland, something twirly and dark blue. She knew she would toe off her shoes the second she was in Wonderland, but she wore them to hurry through the hotel, hand trailing along the walls to guide her steps back to the door that opened to bright colors and strange smells and forgetfulness.