Rooms

Who: Helena, Marta, and Seven
What: Ice cream!
Where: Seven's place
When: After this
Warnings/Rating: Probably language.

Marta not responding to her was not, technically, an emergency. It was concerning, which was why she had her belt hidden beneath a black hoodie, and several knives tucked between her calves and boots. That was the cautious side; the one that said that she'd gotten distracted talking to Seven stopped to get six gallons of ice cream (because no one could really ever have enough) in the promised varieties of Mint Chocolate Chip, Rocky Road, Vanilla, Chocolate, Cake Batter and Cookies 'N Cream. She even grabbed two of those handy rolling ice chests to bring them rolling up to Seven's front door with (it beat trying to carry a bunch of bags full of ice cream). And though she could have taken a cab, or boosted a car like she had during Crane's whatever-the-fuck it was, she walked, head dipped back slightly to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

It was all assumption that Helena came here first. Marvel hadn't changed any since the last time she was here - at least that she could tell - and neither had the house. It was still massive, still gorgeous with clean lines of metal and glass with wood accents that kept it from looking entirely sterile. Still gated though and her old code didn't work. "Paranoid much, Seven?" She muttered before security came to speak with her. Maybe they remembered her from before, maybe Seven told them she was coming; either way a few minutes later she was heading up to the house. Setting one of the chests upright against the wall, she knocked her knuckles loudly on the door. "Ice cream delivery! Come and get your ice cream!" Then, quietly so as not to be heard through the door: "Please be home. I don't want to be dragging these two things everywhere."

[Call: Gwen]

Ring.

[Delivery to Teddy's room at the Mansion, carefully wrapped in blue paper: a custom t-shirt.]