November 2015

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Tags

Powered by InsaneJournal

April 9th, 2014


[info]handlewithcare in [info]rooms

Who: Evie and Luke
What: Talking before Wren gets back from her door
When: Before the switch - after Selina's surgery
Where: Luke and Wren's Vegas house

I can't just feed you all poptarts constantly )

[info]loud in [info]rooms

log: Harley Q/Joker

[Harley clicks her tablet off, the screen going black over her most recent conversation. She's still sooooo sad and soooooooo miserable, even though Eddie did make her feel a lil better. Sniffling, in an extra long-sleeved shirt that hangs off a shoulder completely, she shuffles in panties and knee-high socks from the nest of blankets and pillows that make up her and Mr. J's bed in the brain of the giant clown head. Her face is still stained with tears as she sits next to her puddin'. She leans on him, curlin' up next to him as he works on his Plans. She sniffles again.] Hey, puddin'?

[info]ouverte in [info]rooms

anais m.

[Finally emerging from the chrysalis of her trademark bout of silence.] Coffee, sister? I can bring you back one.

[info]spacecowboys in [info]rooms

Who: Selina
What: Getting out
Where: The Clown's carnival
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Coughing?

The sedative wore off slowly, but it did begin to wear off. )

[info]author in [info]rooms

[Sam A]

I'm going to take a chance and try to visit Ben. Marvel, I think, just in case I don't come back so you know where to find me.

[info]atomic26 in [info]rooms

[Stark Tower Penthouse -- Open to whoever wants to be there.]

[An exhausted Tony comes back in at dawn via the Penthouse landing pad. He's already dropped Bruce off at his lab with Selina's sample. Spidey's cube isn't in direct sight but it's nearby, to one side behind the bar, in the interior. He's here because this is the easiest way to de-armor with this particular suit, and there's a couch he can faceplant on not ten yards away. He hasn't yet decided if he'll stay on his feet long enough to get a drink. His back is killing him. Stupid Loki. Stupid back. Stupid physical therapy he never finished. Ugh.]

[info]spacecowboys in [info]rooms

Public

[After catching up on everything public & on the batfam+ locks. Probably right around the time Joe leaves to meet The Bat.]

[Public]
Don't worry, boys. No one needs to drop the ball on Gotham to come save little old me, and no one needs to leave their own door.

Oh, and thanks for the hospitality, Joe.

[info]rope in [info]rooms

[Annie C]

[Locked to Annie C]

Were you aware that there are doors here to different places? A hotel, even?

[info]upintheclouds in [info]rooms

[Locked Bruce W]

Selina's been in touch, she's pissed at me. Are you alright? Have you found the Joker? Has anyone?

I've had more than my fair share of your Macallan 1939, so here I am. Lets talk. Please.

[Locked Jason T]

How are you?

[info]isalwaysangry in [info]rooms

Tony S

[Locked to Tony S, after this.]

Selina left me a sample at my lab to get the antidote from. Let's get out of here.

[info]inkonstage in [info]rooms

Who: Seven & Marta
What: Drinking for questionable reasons (part 1 of 3)
Where: A dive in Vegas
When: Backdated like whoa, post-holiday childhood plot, after this.
Warnings/Rating: Language, and lots of it

'I wasn't what you were expecting either, was I? Otherwise you wouldn't've been all sass before and Mister Clam-up now. Want me to go back to annoying the shit out of you? You can pretend I'm just some fucked-up, underaged T&A hitting on you at a bar.' )

[info]inkonstage in [info]rooms

Who: Seven & Marta
What: Going back to his place (part 2 of 3)
Where: Seven's house (mansion) in Vegas
When: Backdated like whoa, post-holiday childhood plot, after this.
Warnings/Rating: Language again

'But there were all those bad guys who had everything they wanted, and I thought it’d be alright if I wanted it, too.' )

[info]clearmyledger in [info]rooms

[Steve R, Bruce B, Tony S, Peggy C + Pepper P, Bucky B, Mai S, "Ash" (Preston R)]

[Locked to Steve R]
I have some information on Osborn for you. Anything more would require taking myself off rotation for a time.

[Locked to Bruce B]
You. Me. Coffee tomorrow morning somewhere not Stark tower.

[Locked to Tony S]
Tony.

[Locked to Peggy C and Pepper P]
I have a request that....I'd like to stay between the three of us.

[Locked to James B]
Remind me why teams are a good idea, please.

[Locked to Mai S]
How are you and yours settling in? Enjoying our Door?

[Locked to "Ash"]
How are you?

[info]foundling in [info]rooms

comm: Tony S + Bruce B (the lab)

Because, no, he's not done, after this, as he jogs to the gym. With the sounds of wind and breath: [Over the comm to the lab.]
I understand why you did what you did. I'm [a huff and an excuse me] sorry if it seemed otherwise.

[He knows full well they aren't likely to respond, but he leaves the line open until he gets to the gym. Just in case.]

[info]newhorizon in [info]rooms

[Private to Capt]

If it makes you feel better, yelling in Stark Tower at each other is pretty normal for Avengers.

[info]gingercop in [info]rooms

shae o

[Phone call: Shae / Matt]

[Ring, ring.]

[info]ex_clerk820 in [info]rooms

[Public.]

[After the Oscorp Building Kablooey. Maybe an hour later, after he refuses further testing at a nearby hospital. It doesn't say "Ash," but come on, how many people have that handwriting?]

I have the worst headache, and since when did industrial accidents cause headaches?

[info]foundling in [info]rooms

log: Mack/Bucky B/Steve R

[After catching his breath after his run and after a quick, silent dousing under the cold water of the corroded heads of the gym showers, Steve dressed, a sweatshirt with a hood tugged up over the blond of his hair, and, without sparing a glance for Mack, made a beeline for the poor, defeated punching bag in the corner. It faced away from everyone, and he was able to keep his back to the room. Shoulders up, fists bare but for tape, and his expression one of frustration.

He wasn't imagining Tony's face on the canvas, but he was close to that point. He—Steve—had been an ass, he knew. But, Tony? Tony was an asshole. Everything was a mess and with the yoke of leadership, unwanted and unrecognized, around his neck, it was up to Steve to fix it. But right now, he needed to lose some steam before his date with Peggy.]

[info]inkonstage in [info]rooms

[Anais M, Lyra V, Seven M]

[Sometime not too long after they're pulled through, but after she's sorted out what's going on. Sort of. Please handwave that I am bad at timing.]

[Anais, Lyra]

Um So are you both here?


[Seven M]

[She hasn't spoken to him since she left him after Christmas. It's taken her this long to put pen to page.]

So did you know that shirts made the jump over, too?

[info]foundling in [info]rooms

Date Nite!, log: Peggy C/Steve R

[Clean-shaven, clean-cut, hair just drying and parted; suited up (not in anything spangly!), straight out of the glossy magazine pages of the 40s, Steve nervously waits outside of Peggy's apartment with a car—yes, he'd hired it himself. On the telephone!—It's not warm out, but he feels hot, especially around the collar. He's compulsively smoothing down the hair that meets the nape of his neck, the clenched bouquet of viscaria shedding petals down his back every time he bumps his head with it. He doesn't notice. His eyes are fixed on the door, not wanting to miss anything, after having missed so much before.

The day's been long, but he's not ready for it to be over just yet.

He's just slipped his phone back into his pocket, having let Peggy he know he was there, and still the nerves build, build, build, and it feels like his stomach contains the entirety of a churning sea. This is it. The Big One. The date—the one the both of them have likely idealized over the years, and it's happening now, and, gee, Steve hopes it goes well. He has nothing but the utmost respect for Peggy Carter, ...well, that, and a lot of feelings. He wants her to have a good time, and he imagines how close they'll stand when they dance.—Yes, he's excited about the night that's spread out before them, and that excitement is only rivaled by the unyielding butterflies that terrorize his stomach.

Captain America is nowhere to be found. It's just Steve here tonight.

The man presses a hand to the black silk tongue of his tie and mutters to himself, practicing his welcome line:] Good evening, Peg—no. Hi, Peggy—Agent, you look—you clean up w—ah, hell.

[info]newhorizon in [info]rooms

avengers + spidey kids

[Avengers]
[After hearing about Oscorp]

You have to let me out. Put me on a leash, I don't care. There's no way I'm sitting here when Oscorp just put people in the hospital.

[Private to Spidey kids.]

Guys!

[info]jeprotege in [info]rooms

[Journal - Public]

While unexpected, still not the weirdest day I've ever had in my life. Not even the weirdest day this week.

[info]roomsanon in [info]rooms

[news update: marvel]

[In the late afternoon on Wednesday, Oscorp shakes, the massive tower trembling from top to bottom. The thousand windows and the metal foundations sound like the world's loudest glass on a table in an earthquake, a jangling and crystalline juttering. A murmur goes through the crowds on the sidewalk below, at the restaurants down the street, behind the windows of office buildings. It's as if an earthquake is striking only Oscorp. It vibrates, like a lightning rod, waiting for the bolt.

Then, without warning, comes release.

The energy that had been gathering in the tower bursts from it in a pulse that warps and folds the very air it passes through, hissing and crackling. The closer one is to the tower, the harder it hits. Those closest are struck down, dropping or being knocked flat. It behaves like a strong wave striking those already standing waist deep. The pulse rolls on. It looks like a ripple in the air, crackling with energy, and it knocks the breath from the lungs, searing it with hot/cold burning and cutting off any chance to cry out. It electrifies every inch of the body. It roils. It rewires.

It only takes ten seconds to burst, roll out, and fade like a tide on the shoreline into nothing. Ambulances are at the scene in minutes, and victims are rushed to the hospital. Some of them are sick, but it's hard to say what has come from panic and what might have been brought on by the pulse itself. Some get nosebleeds. Some hit their heads when they fell. Some shiver and shake. Many go into shock, and are rushed into urgent care. But there are no deaths, and while the press are clamoring for a statement from Oscorp, thus far the only sign of life in the building is the police officers occasionally walking in and out from the circle of police cars gathered at the entrance, their lights flashing into the evening. The news updates call it a 'pulse'. Already it begins to be dismissed as an unfortunate industrial accident that, thankfully, has resulted in no lingering side effects. Lawsuits start before night falls and end not long after, dying and falling away into nothing. Lawyers refused to send them, and advise their clients to say nothing to anyone, to admit to no one they were even there.

If some of the hospital's patients are a little...odd, in a way that's difficult to put one's finger on, (the doctors notice as they tend to them - "when I checked the left eye, it was green, but when I checked the right, it was brown. So was the left when I checked it again.") it's nothing conclusive enough to report. No one calls the WHO or the CDC. By the morning, the news reports have faded to a murmur. The buildings are unmarked, and the sidewalk is untouched. No video of the incident survives, and the anchors even begin to imply a kind of psychosis. What proof do any of these people really have? Experts will soon cite it on television as a grand example of mass hysteria.

In the quiet following the storm, though, some of those struck start find themselves becoming...different.]

[info]sybarite in [info]rooms

narrative; harry osborn

All it really took was a sour mood and high blood alcohol content for Harry to return to Oscorp. It was common for his father to stay in his top floor office most of the time. Harry's destination was a few floors below that on one of the many research levels, behind an inconspicuous glass door that required an eight digit security code for entrance. It'd been the haven of his own little pet project, research that he'd financed, with scientists that he'd hired. It was all his, the first thing that he'd been able to call his own that really felt like it belonged to him.

A curiosity put into action when Harry unexpectedly took over Oscorp. He'd wanted it to be his first success while in charge, but the months had gone on and on with only minor progress of any significance. Eventually, the progress reports stopped coming at all, but Harry hadn't quite accepted that it was over until now. Until his father came back so suddenly. Without warning, Norman Osborn swept back into Oscorp and shut down a half dozen different programs that Harry'd initiated during his reign. They hadn't been especially successful despite the funding provided to them, but Harry'd thought that the researchers just needed time. Time that Norman apparently didn't have the patience for. Harry couldn't blame him.

Harry was drunk enough to see the situation in varying shades of his own worthlessness. He was a joke, and his research had been a joke, and maybe he was feeling just petty enough to want to destroy the progress that he had made. Because he typed in one code after another and canceled out the programs despite the red blinking warning that flashed across the screen.

Warning
System Improperly Shut Down
Warning
Fail-safes Cannot Be Found
Warning


Well, that didn't look good.