Who: Alison Blaire, Johnny Storm & Spider-Man!! NPCs: Random NYCers? When: Friday, April 17, 2009 - Early evening-ish? [backdated] Where: The Big Apple!! What: I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! (OOC: I obviously don't live in New York and am making up subway nonsense and using this map as reference for where Stark Tower (sans Sentry Watchtower) actually is. Oh, and Simon Cowell is fucking loaded, don't pretend that he isn't.) Song: "Renegade Master" - Fatboy Slim & Wildchild Rating: G?
Alison talked a good game. Her follow through though? Not so stellar, sometimes at least, and especially right now. She had been back at the Xavier School less than two hours before she raided their pantry like a diabetic in search of insulin. Sugar bombs! All kinds of Sugar Bombs! A verifiable cornucopia of Sugar Bombs! Peanut Butter Sugar Bombs, Choc-Choco-Bombs, Marshmallowy Goodness Bombs, Very Berry Sugar Bombs and Alison's personal favorite, Fruity-Tuity Bombs Ahoy! She hadn't accounted for the sugar-crash when she scarfed down bowl after bowl, eating enough Sugar Bombs for an army of tweens. (Not before having a full on sugar-rush meltdown.) She was just lucky that the students weren't back from their break yet to pull any practical jokes while she snoozed soundlessly in front of the television. Or riot over the lack of delicious breakfast cereals. (Ew, who ate Musili anyways? Probably Cyclops.)
When she awoke she didn't know what time it was let alone what time zone she was in. She looked down at her phone in her lap and when it said 7:45 she didn't know if that was AM or PM. Shit, shit, shit. What time did she tell Tony Stark she was meeting with him? She had better get her ass in gear - who kept Tony Stark waiting? Alison was sure he could buy and sell her six times over. He was like...the Simon Cowell of...bombs? Oh, ew, that sounded wrong all around in her head. Simon Cowell, mmmmmmaybe. Rich like him yes. Bombs, thats a definite no. She wasted no time at all, strapping her roller blades to her feet, grabbing her backpack and was out the door in fifteen minutes flat.
The subway ride was painfully long and was spent checking her phone every five minutes or flipping through songs on her iPod just as frequently. The blue line took her through Herald Square and as soon as the train stopped Alison was hustling up the stairs. She was just as comfortable in her roller blades as most people were flat on their feet on solid ground. Reaching street-level, Alison cast her gaze upward. Nothing but sky scrapers. Where the frick was Stark Tower? She couldn't see the forest because all the trees were in the way. It had to be around somewhere.
She knew it was...east? South east? Roughly, of where she was at right now. Alison adjusted her white and pink Skullcandies and tugged up the zipper of her grey track jacket, she moved in that direction. Her legs pumping and passing back and forth in front of each other, propelling herself forward and gaining speed. "Shit, shit, shit," she hissed, weaving in and out of crowds and traffic. She wasn't doing a very good job of keeping her light from leaking out and was trailed by an dazzling display of pink and purple sparkles.