InsaneJournal

Who: Allison Argent
Where: Teen Wolf, Hotel Lobby, First Available Door (DC Comics - hey at least there's no plague)
When: Tonight
What: Allison comes back after a few months absence and doesn't like what she remembers



Allison remember the doors, and the last time she'd been in this place. Being told that she wasn't going to die, that it wasn't happening here. And it wouldn't happen here. She also remembered Beacon Hills, and the Nogitsune, she remembered the Oni and lying on the ground bleeding. She had tried to be at peace with it, but she had been 17 years old. What kind of 17 year old was okay with dying? She had so much more she should have done.

She told Scott it would be okay, that it was good, perfect, she talked about love and comforted him in her last moments. It felt like the right thing to do, it took the focus off of the disappointment and fear in her own mind. But then she was back here, she knew she was back in this place with the journals and keys. The doors to other places.

They were just starting a battle with the nogitsune here. It had all just started and she remembered it all just starting. She didn't know where things were now, only that if her fate was to live her death over and over again she had to get out of Beacon Hills. She wouldn't die here again. She would leave everything she knew about the fight behind, everything she remembered - and then she'd leave. She had to go. Maybe it was cowardly, or maybe it was just plain survival instinct. But she firmly believed if the others were smart they would leave too. Whoever was left, maybe Kira, maybe Scott, she'd urge them all to go. To take the chance they had to get out of this place because from the perspective of a girl who was supposed to be dead, this was the only option. Run for your life when your literal life is on the line. There were things that were too big for them. Too many mistakes were made and they were just kids. She packed a backpack, supplies and weapons, she wasn't planning on turning into a commando, but she was going to go into the first door she saw.

She left a note in the weapons cage, in case anyone found it. She wasn't scared of leaving, she was scared of staying. She said she had to go, she had to leave. She told whoever was reading it (Lydia, she hoped) to leave. To run. To hide until they found the way and means to save Stiles. Not to make the same mistakes, not to think they were immortal. Everything ended and everything changed. She wasn't ready for an ending. Even if she was already dead and this was some purgatory, or hell, for the mistakes she'd made- she would take the opportunity to run. And to drag the others with her if she had to.

When she stepped out of the door, and found herself surrounded by the dusty hotel lobby she looked first to her left and then to her right, there were doors - other places to go. Other things to see. Other ways to die she presumed. She just needed a place to breathe. She stepped through one that caught her eye, and while breathing wasn't necessarily on the menu in the smog filled air of Gotham City - she didn't exactly find herself disappointed. She knew where she was immediately, a bus in the business district with GOTHAM CITY PUBLIC TRANSIT SYSTEM emblazoned on the side. Different. Unexpected. Probably not the safest place to be momentarily homeless, but the door itself didn't seem to disappear, so maybe it would just be the first stop of a few before she found the breathing spot. With her luck the breathing spot would be right back in Beacon Hills, but for now she found comfort in the unfamiliar. She didn't have to be reminded of anything here, because she'd never seen any of it. It was a cleansing feeling, even if the air was stagnant with smog that didn't lend itself to cleansing breaths.