Rooms

Who: Solas and Helena (or Valentine and Cupid)
What: A lot of talking
Where: Thedas
When: ~ Fuzzy timelined, but currentish
Warnings/Rating: A brief conversation about sex, some feels, nothing too much.

( I admit, speaking with you using the journals was much like speaking with a spirit. Sometimes, I wondered if you were one and were simply toying with me. They do that, from time to time. They are simple, confined to a single aspect, but are often playful and mischievous when it suits them. )

Who: Matthew & Saint
What: Roommates
Where: Marvel's New York
When: Recently
Warnings/Rating: Clean and safe.

( Of those responses to the flyer that had been taped to the wall, Matthew was one of the least intrusive.  )

[Public]

Okay so in the past four days I've seen The Lion King, Newsies, The Book of Mormon and and Wicked. What should be next? And I don't know any of these bands playing at any of these clubs - anyone with a clue wanna give a girl a hand?

[Peggy C]

Yo, Aunt Peg - I moved to Brooklyn - you should join me. I've got like 297 channels which is like 297 more channels than they had in 1991.

[Gwen S]

[New address in Brooklyn - new phone number - new everything] So. Feel like introducing me to anyone? Just don't do it as Ms. Carter, I'm begging you, Ms. Stacy.

[Max M]

Hey, Max right?

[CALL: JANE/GWEN]
Ring, ring.

[Phone Call]

Ring!

[Drunk dial goes ring.]

[Delivered to Evelyn T]

[After a chance encounter, a dress and all accompanying haberdashery for an evening of Victorian theatricals. The note tucked between elegant tissue is handwritten in a feminine hand.]

I do hope it fits. We're not accustomed to items that aren't painstakingly measured and tailored.

Until the evening,
Mina Murray

[Immediately after this, messy, because it's scribbled while she weaves through the crowd, and because she's less than straight at the moment.]

[Group lock, Louis D & Cris M]
I swear 2 fcking god, if either of you so much as BREATHE my name to Neil Donovan again, I'm disapearing. That's fucking it. I mean it I'll move into Lou's place in Marvel. Ok? Just leave the fucking man alone. Don't you both get it? He doesn't want nything to do with me. Lou, you keep fucking PUSHING, and he doesn't want it, so he just piks what the fuck ever, and Cris yells at him for it. His nightmare with me ended yrs ago. Let it be fucking over. I not kidding, ok? NOT ONE MORE COMMENT if either of ur tlking to him rn.

[She pockets the journal right after the post. No reply to anything here.]

Who: The Bat & the Clown
What: The Bat gives chase, as bats do.
Where: Amusement Mile.
When: Immediately following this.
Warnings/Rating: TBD

( It was predictable. He knew that, but it was inevitable, wasn't it? )

Who: Sam Alexander & Cris Martin-Argüelles, an audience of NYC npcs
What: a foot chase
Where: Marvel, NYC; MoMA→down the street→Manhattan SVS precinct→hospital
When: after this & this
Warnings/Rating: language, sads, drug use, suicide mentions, self-harm, ptsd, mild violence/blood to be safe: ALL THE TRIGGERS

( This part was familiar. )

Who: Gwen and Pete
What: Museums and a confession? Maybe.
Where: American Museum of Natural History
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Bad puns?

It would be a vast understatement to say Gwen didn't actually have time to go playing around in a darkened museum, but she was still young enough to be able to logic away poor choices by blaming them on immaturity, and she did precisely that when she arrived at the American Museum of Natural History after closing, where she knew the night custodian well; he'd been a good friend of her dad's, an old war veteran with a white beard and a face that looked like it remembered trenches way too well. But Gwen had known him since she was small, and he was the same in this world as he'd been in hers. As a result, this was her third post-closing foray into the darkened museum. She'd taken Hels there one night last year, and Harry had first kissed her in front of Cro-Magnon man. Tonight, the custodian (Uncle Bob) gave her a grandfather's smile, and he let her in the service entrance and promised to let the "dorky kid" that followed her in the same way.

Gwen was dressed down, because skirts and dresses weren't going to work very well for what she had planned. And she had planned. In her Gramercy apartment, there was a list with the pros and cons of all possible conversation routes for "I kind of stole your superpower gig," and while she'd memorized them all, they were mostly forgotten now that she was actually walking through the darkened halls of the museum with Peter's suit in the backpack she had slung over her shoulder. Said suit had been swiped while Peter half-dozed in some general education class that had been way too easy to locate for the girl who attended the same university as him and had some pretty sweet spidey senses working for her these days.

After much consideration, she draped Pete's red-and-blue footsies over the neck of Anatotitan, and she webbed herself up to the ledge of one of the tall windows in the Hall of Ornithischian Dinosaurs. Sitting on the sill, she waited, her iPhone earbuds tucked in her ears and Ms. Carter's 80s playlist playing.

[After this, and after the Bat goes in pursuit of his Clown.]

[Locked to Robert B]
You owe me dinner, but how about a bandage instead?