Rooms

Todavia estas sonando?

[Only this.]

[This was bad with a capital B. No, it was terrible. Capital T. Bad would've been the testing facility and Mr. Osborn being carted off to jail, or something. But Mr. Osborn being dead? Yeah, no. If that was an accident he'd eat his Spider-suit and no way was Harry going to take this well. At all. No, this wasn't bad. It had surpassed bad, smashed right through the ceiling to another level. Everyone could talk about this version and that version, but here were the simple facts: Harry had already been exposed to the serum. He's just found out that in an alternate universe he had a hand in killing Gwen, and now his dad was dead. Peter wasn't hoping for the best, he was bracing himself for the worst and hoping it wouldn't blow up in his face.

He'd failed his friend once, helped him right over the edge and down a path that got really, really ugly really, really fast. He couldn't let it happen again.

Traveling by webs was so much faster--no traffic!--and while he could check every single window, that would be too time consuming. Nope, best way was to go in through the front doors, cause a distraction (his speciality, chaos) and sneak a look at the in-house guest list. Oh, technology. Computers made it so much faster. Of course checking in under his real name would be too easy, ha-ha, but it only took a few minutes to narrow down the possibilities. And off he went, opting for scaling the building over knocking on the doors. It was all about time management. Peeking in windows actually proved to be a good process of trial and error... and then there was one.

He figured it was hard to ignore a guy stuck upside-down to your window, right? Even if Harry was currently freaking out. He wasn't in full Spidey regalia, just normal clothes, because this wasn't about Spider-Man. The mask was for practical purposes, and he pulled it off before knocking on the glass.] Hey, Harry! Open up! [He really didn't want to break the glass. That so wasn't his thing.]

[Locked to Bruce W]
b-man how was the party on those old bones :)

[Locked to Damian W]
hey bitty bat

[A decade, but she remembered the way to Wayne Manor like the back of her hand. It was the morning after her run in with Eddie, and she was still riding a little on her high. After patrolling a bit more that night, she had headed to sleep in her clinic office. Not the most comfortable, but she had done it before, and she wasn't ready to go back to the Manor until the morning. Which she did. Sitting in her clunky gray sedan from years, she drove from the East End, where her main clinic was, to the outskirts of Gotham where the mansion rose over the rest. On her passenger seat sat a box of an assortment of donuts from one of those artisanal bakeries she equally loved and hated. Two cups of coffee, too, in case Bruce was up and about.

She hadn't seen anyone aside from Eddie since her return, and though she wasn't worried, she couldn't ignore a little bit of apprehension. A tiny sharp bubbling in her throat. Sure, she remembered dedication and love, but that could just be the foggy, rose-colored glasses that formed after years of being away. But Bruce was safe, right? He was the one she felt like she could always turn to. A father better than any she ever had, even if they were now closer in age than ever. That didn't matter. He would always be her father figure.

Coming in through the back entrance, Stephanie beelined to the kitchen, doughnut box tucked under one arm as she carried each cup of coffee in her two hands. The trot of Flounder's yellow fur greeted her immediately, and Bandit mewled from the entrance hall. She smiled, dropping the box and placing one of the coffees on the counter before crouching down to press a kiss to Flounder's fur and rub behind her ears.] Hey, good boy. How are you? I missed you. [Another round of kisses as the dog sniffed the woman that was his owner but somehow different. The age was clear on her face, past thirty than closer to 20, and her long blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, she wore a leather jacket over gray shirt and black jeans, and her combat boots were worn and comfortable. She looked calmer, too, as she rubbed her her dog behind his ears.]

Chatty man who bolted after #5. You okay?

[Not anon: who gives a crap about anon? Public]

Looking for Red. Find anything better on the menu eventually?

Blazer, hope it worked out in the end.

[Steph N]

So getting a load of someone else's shit, not exactly my idea of a party. You get on okay?

[Bats + JLA-types + Green Arrow kids]

Headcount of who's still in the land of the living?

[Comm to Sara L]

Ding, ding.

[JL+]

So we're looking a little light.

So how often do things like this happen?

[Eddie Nigma]
I've found a few files of Lex's that may interest you regarding a company LuthorCorp owns.

[Text to Aubrey R]

Were you there?

[Locked to Mingmei S]

Did you go?

[Public]

Owl boy?

And you too, Mr. Not Fun. Did you ever have any?

[Locked to Ronan X]

What the fuck was that?

[Public]
[After seeing the other entries.]

You were in a beautiful green dress, I was yelling from the booth at you.

[As Anon]

I was wearing something incredibly small and tight, we decided to say to hell with it in a booth, and rudely interrupted by the hotel.

[As Donna T]

[Locked to DC Heroes/Batfam/JLA (everyone, okay)]

Everyone get out okay?


[Locked to Dick Grayson]

Well that was fun.

[Anon? What's that?]

Thank you for the gift of a headache in the wake of your departure. I'm still enjoying it as we speak. Bleeding ear? Also a nice touch. Remind me to put you on my Christmas card list.

To the lovely lady who assisted me later and brought me water... Thank you. You're a sweetheart.

[Locked to Eddie N]

Sick and tired of people checking on you yet?

[Locked: Loki]

I've gone through just about every possibility, while completely ignoring the obvious. Well, I've deluded myself for quite long enough. So my only question is...Why?

[Public - posted anon]

I'm looking for the man who dropped my drink on the floor. Did you make it home ok?

-Theda

[Tony S]

[Left on the counter-top in the penthouse kitchen beside a glass of water the morning after the morning-after. No note. JARVIS, if asked, can see a calendar full of back-to-back appointments.]

[Bruce B]

The secretaries said a toddler has been left in the building: please tell me there is something in your apartment more than tea?

Who: Pepper P & Bruce B
What: Tiny people make for easier babysitting.
When: Friday morning.

The crisp staccato of impossibly high heels from the elevator heralded Pepper's arrival before she appeared into view. There was a brown paper bag hitched in one arm with the name of an expensive and organic company discreetly printed on the side and another in the other that looked suspiciously like it contained something from a regular supermarket. Pepper sailed into the kitchen on a tide of efficiency and a faint scent of something restrained and ridiculously expensive, perfect white suit and lipstick intact.

"Two-year-olds," she said, setting both paper bags down on the counter-top and moving through Bruce's kitchen with the ruthless speed of someone very accustomed to moving in and out of other people's spaces with the maximum of efficiency and the least amount of interference, unwrapping things and unfolding them, "Eat chicken-fingers. So I am told. I got chicken fingers and I also got the regular kind of chicken you can tell came from an actual chicken." She held out a package of individual small cartons of raisins. "And this seemed more appropriate than candy. How are you doing?"

[After he and Sharon return to NY.]

[Locked to Tony S]
Stark?