Rooms

Who: Dick Grayson
Where: Lost - Hotel Lobby
What: Getting out of the beach door - Bringing Dickie back from limbo.
When: Yesterday
Warnings: Death - DON'T PANIC ITS OKAY.

( You have only three choices: run, hide... or die. )

[Selina K]

How many selfies does Jason have of himself in the Batsuit?

[Jason T]

I fucking died again!

[Babs G]

Well then. I'm only ever wearing this if we bedazzle the back to say "Talk shit, Get Hit."

[Bruce W]

I'd like to come home.

[Eddie N]

Thanks for not trying to kill me anymore.

[Stephie B]

Don't we have some kind of hug scheduled?

[Gwen S]

Bacon wrapped hot dogs.

[Public]

Ah just a small public service announcement - The door in the hotel that says "Namaste" over it - if you go in just stick to the beachy areas and don't forget to push the buttons.

[Clint B]

I did that thing where I stayed up all night watching Gregory Peck movies. Now the sun is up. Breakfast?

[Locked to Gwen S]
How're you, Gwen?

[Locked to Peter P + Flash T + Gwen S]
Any updates?

[Locked to Wanda M]
How're you doing, Wanda?

[Locked to Selina K]
Ma'am.

[Call: Peggy C]
[Early morning. Ring!]

[Public]

Okay world, this dude needs a J-O-B. The bidding starts at 12 bucks an hour, do I hear 12 bucks an hour? Anyone? Anyone got anything for 12 bucks an hour?

[Gwen S]

Can you, by any chance, break federal laws with any mad computer skills? Or do you know anyone who can? Because seriously, I didn't do my FAFSA in the last universe or this one and I am screeeeeeewed, smarty pants. And as much as I lecture Billy about doing responsible things, I will never live this one down.

[Wanda M]

Happy Mother's Day, Wanda.

[Supernatural sensitives without appropriate mental protections take a hit early this morning when The Hand's recent political upheavals take the form of an assassination attempt on the current Master's life.

This particular Master has a number of protections in place that extend into different hell dimensions, and his New York place of business, a shipping office on the docks, manifests this abrupt flare of protective power by melting into an unfortunate puddle of molten glass and rebar, creating a mirrored lake about the size of a football field.

There are no reported deaths or injuries at the site, and the magical power is currently being contained after the fact in an active fashion. Communication channels could therefore be opened.

A few mental tremors extend into the late morning.]

[The deaths are sporadic, spread across the boroughs, and seemingly unrelated. The police don't take note, but Gwen does. The men are all criminals, mostly violent. A half dozen so far, they go missing a few days, and then they show up dead, usually only identifiable via DNA because there's so little left of them. But however much she searches, she can't find any crime sprees conducted by any of the men while playing host. It leads her to believe Carnage is being picky about his host before making a serious move this time, which is totally the opposite of good.]

{Tony S]

I'm returning your car later today. Complete with new license plate frame, courtesy of 20 year old Sharon Carter. I really think you'll like it.

[Ridiculous Group Lock: Gwen S, Tony S]

Hey Mr. Stark. It's Dick Grayson, son of Batman. The good looking son of Batman.

Gwen and I need to settle a bet, and she thinks my bet settling mechanism is bias and suggested we ask your AI.

I apparently drew the short straw in having to explain this bet to you. So do you mind if we ask your AI about the status of bearded ladies in Iowa?