Rooms

[Public: Posted Anon]

Uh, Superman?

[Bruce B - From Sharon C]

Hi, Bruce.

[Gwen S - From Sharon C]

Gwen? Are you still here?

[Peggy C - From Sharon C]

Hello, Aunt Peggy.

[locked to gwen s]

Okay?

[locked to damian w]

Better yet?

Who: Harry & Gwen & Damian & Barbara
What: Harry & Gwen are trapped in the rubble, help is on the way!
Where: Gotham.
When: After Damian did a no-no.
Warnings: Language maybe? Blood mentions probs.



[The clothing store had been nice, which wasn't something that Harry had ever thought to associate with the likes of Gotham. He knew that there was money in the city, there was money everywhere, but still… it'd been a pleasant surprise. And wasn't that greatest irony of it? Just when Harry had begun to think that maybe Gotham wasn't the horrible place that he'd always imagined it to be, the foundation literally crumbled from beneath their feet.

Now, in the dirt and the concrete rubble, it was a lucky thing that they hadn't been crushed to death. Maybe it was the blow to the head that kept Harry from going full-tilt freakout, but the horror of the situation hadn't really set in yet. Nobody knew that he'd come to Gotham, Harry had his doubts that anybody even knew that Gwen had decided to move here, so now they were just going to have to die here like nobodies.]

We can't die here. Not in Gotham. [He tried to joke, because ew, but there was too much worry in his voice to make for comedy. Harry groaned, it was a pained sound, partly because Gwen touched his injured arm in that moment, but also because the realization that the two of them were essentially buried alive… it was hitting him. Gwen was doing her best to pull the heavy rubble away from Harry's pinned arm. The brickwork was heavy, and it had been keeping the lower part of his arm numb due to its weight, but when she lifted the weight of the stone away, blood and feeling flew back down his hand and fingers in a deep, unforgiving throb. Even though Gwen was being as gentle as she could, Harry screamed through teeth clenched tight.]

Don't! Don't! [He begged her not to move anything again, and simultaneously hoped more than anything that she wouldn't have to if she'd already pulled the entire thing clear away.]

[Maybe written on the private luxury jet that's whisking her across the country, the absolute opposite of being in Gotham a couple of hours prior.]

[Eddie N]

Keep a hold of that generator and satellite. I'll be back in Gotham Sunday evening. I forgot I had some business meetings this weekend.

[Conner K]

Hey I didn't want to leave You let me know if I'm needed over there, okay? No one in Gotham knows how to ask for help. I'll find a door and pop back as quick as I can. Otherwise, I'll be back on Sunday. Keep me updated?

[Public]

I'll be on QWERTY Live this Saturday, for those of you that keep up with video games. We're going to be talking about the evolution of FPS and then I'm going to destroy these boys in GoldenEye.

[Gwen had been staying at the Manor since Jason helped her escape from The Morgan (and from HYDRA). Wayne Manor was huge, and it totally made the opulent penthouse she'd grown up in look tiny. Her mom's money, which Gwen had always considered crazy vast, was nothing compared to this. This was like Mr. Osborn, and even spending her childhood with Harry hadn't prepared Gwen for this place. It was removed from the city, and there was all kinds of grounds that the Osborn Estate didn't have, since it was in the middle of Manhattan. She kind of liked it, but it was quiet. Jason was off with his family, trying to find Damian, and Gwen was kind of glad Harry was coming to visit; the distraction would be nice.

She had no idea bombs had been set under the city, or she would've totally come up with a Plan B for a safe hiding place.

But, unfortunately, she was completely and totally unaware. So, she slipped into a pleated grey skirt and layered tees in grey and white. Knee-high boots over thigh-high socks, and she left the Manor.

She called a cab to take her to Gotham's version of downtown, and she sold one of the bangle bracelets her dad had given her. Then, she found a trendy store and propped open a mundane looking door in the dressing room, before going back out into the store. She totally needed clothes, and she figured shopping was a good distraction as she waited for Harry. Okay, so her eyes were still puffy from crying, and that had nothing to do with her now-healed shin. It was hard to lose nearly everyone, and the timing kind of sucked, and being homeless kind of sucked, and she was doing that hopeless thing Peter hated (past tense) so much. Maybe (hopefully) shopping (and Harry) would help.]

[Getting out of the Morgan wasn't as easy as Gwen expected, and that could be blamed entirely on the injured state of her shin. She cursed (literally and loudly) her lack of webs, and she cursed the fact that her suit wasn't anywhere she could find. She had a vague recollection of taking her bag to Gotham, but she must have left it at Wayne Manor, because she didn't have it with her. While ultimately convenient (since she was headed there, anyway), the lack of webs made her spider thing kind of super useless. Okay, okay, so it was mostly super useless anyway, since she'd been reset to zero when she was "born," but she was pretty sure she could manage to get from one building to the other without the use of her injured leg, if she only had the webs. But she didn't have them, and she totally had to improvise.

And improvising, in this case, meant waiting for Jason to create a distraction (she hoped that was Jason that sent the HYDRA agents running), and then run for it as fast as she could manage (which wasn't super fast).

By the time she made it into the hotel hallway, there was blood in her shoe, and there were tears on her face, but she'd sustained no new injuries. She didn't even sit down, because she was kind of worried she wouldn't get back up if she did, so she leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath. She tried to convince herself that everything would be fine. HYDRA would lose interest in her, and she could go back home. Not that it felt very much like home without Peter and Flash, but at least Harry was going to visit her in Gotham. It wouldn't be so bad, and she was determined that the situation should be a temporary one. She'd managed without Flash before, and she'd lived through a lot of Peters, and it would be fine - even if it felt like the world was ending.]

[Locked to Peggy C]
You don't know me, but I'm supposed to give you something.


[And after this.]
[Locked to Gwen S]
Tell me you got out of there.

[public]

This headache is about to knock me on my ass.

[Locked to Jean G]

Tomorrow?

[Locked to Trystan C]

I'm sorry. I really am.

[Shortly after handing the hard drive off to Harry. Aged back up, and she tries Peter first, only to learn he's gone. She tries Flash second, and then Mr. Rogers. She doesn't try Mr. Stark, because he's dead, and after looking out the windows and pinpointing the locations of the HYDRA agents (and verifying there's no door to the hotel from inside the museum), she contacts Jason (okay, so maybe there's some time factored in for crying a lot). She almost messages Mary Jane, but she figures there's really no point in telling her the boys are gone, and maybe it's better to let her not know for as long as possible.]

[Locked to Jason T]
Is that Joker thing you have to do complicated?

So are we going to go find a psycho's bombs, or just sit around talking about them? Because campus security doesn't seem too excited to turn bomb squad.

[Call to Harry O]

[Early morning, while still hiding in the Morgan Library & Museum, and still aged down (thanks, Gotham!). Flash isn't answering texts, and she can't get Peter to text or pick up, despite trying a bunch of times overnight. She doesn't actually know who is around and who isn't, so she tries Harry next. Ring.]

[As he's not Ra's yet, the name around campus is Darius.]

( Email to all students of Organic Chem )

[Public]

If you can't arrive at class sober, I can't tutor you.

[Lock to Sharon C]
[Hours after this, after managing to successfully hide inside while the museum closes, and after reading absolutely everything on Ms. Carter's hard drive.] Ma'am? I should begin by indicating my strong belief that this is totally not a secure method of communication.

[Text to Flash T]
Are you in NYC or in Gotham right now?

Who: Tiny!Gwen
What: Picking something up
Where: Ms. Carter's "empty" apartment
When: After the tiny!Gotham party
Warnings/Rating: None

( Bullets flew, and she ran. )

[It pops up as Anonymous. Someone got bored and wrote a little text adventure game with her fun new AI.]

Gotham U: Textra Credit
BoPro Interactive Fiction
Copyright © 2015 by BoPro, Inc. All rights reserved.
Release 3.14 (Beta) / Serial Number 981091701-D

You wake up to the sound of a cow nearby. The room is spinning very gently around your head. Or at least it would be if you could see it. Which you can't.

It is pitch black.

[The cursor blinks expectantly, awaiting instructions.]

[Gwen S]

Gwen, are you okay?

[Bruce B]

Bruce?

[Public.]

Steve Rogers. He's [...] He is gone?

[James B.]

[After speaking with Sharon.]

James. I need your help.

Who: Anyone who wishes to attend
What: A reluctant party
Where: Wayne Manor grounds (Exterior. The Batcave is inaccessible, and the Manor is locked to non-thieves and non-family.)
When: During the Gotham age-down plot
Warnings/Rating: This is a group log. Please place locations in headers, and use warnings where required.

Crowded, the party was upscale. College kids littered the grounds of Wayne Manor, but the decor was still the best Gotham had to offer, despite the relative youth of the attendants. The front steps were lantern-lit, and the stone landing and fountain circle were the center of the festivities for the evening. From the landing, a DJ played college hits, and there were two white tents erected for dancing. Around the twinkle-lit fountain, there was a well-stocked bar and an opulent buffet, and someone had even ordered an ice-sculpture swan to glitter in the lantern lights. Only the best booze, only the most expensive hor d'oeuvres, and it was a Gotham charity gala in miniature.

The doors to the big house were locked tight, but the grounds were unguarded (save for a certain inaccessible Batcave). Beyond the verdant and unlit field, a gamekeeper's house sat locked, and the stables housed a horse or two, empty stalls and impressive hay stacks. The greenhouse was warm, even in the evening, the day's heat still holding onto leaves and blooms. All around the property, the largely-untamed gardens were barely lit and perfect for slipping away, benches and trees and shrubs to hide behind. Early in the evening, and they were already crowded, the gardens, with pawing teenagers two-bottles deep.

Beyond the gardens, trees grew tall and eclipsed the moon and stars, and the loud music from the party barely carried there, where the canopy shut out the world.

[Locked to Hels]

Are you currently a teenager that's weirdly invested in the biological subfamily Bovinae?

[Days after the collapse of the underwater lab, Bruce had been too many places. The Hulk had carried him up out of the bay, and didn't stop until he'd traveled far. Far, far. Following some sort of internal compass even in his hurt and grief. He had to stop, sometimes, just to shout again, trying to let out the tightness and awful feeling at the back of his throat, but the sound never worked. Neither did striking anything - trees, old buildings, the ground. Most often, the ground, and never anywhere with people or anything that would lead to anyone being hurt. He followed the compass - north, south, north, west, west, west. He stopped with his feet in the water, salt in his throat, a rocky cliff at his back. And he knew, somehow, that the place he'd found was the right place to be. So he stopped. And sat.

Bruce woke among the rocks, salt still in his throat, feet in the water. The ocean lapped at him, and far above, perched on the cliff - in the cliff - was a familiarly rounded building. Edged in glass and modernly west-coast, even from the strange angle, Bruce knew Tony's Malibu home.

It was awkward, climbing up, finding his way toward an entrance. He was tired and hungry, and thankful for JARVIS letting him inside. There was food. There was a change of clothing. Everything around him screamed Tony, and Bruce did his best to wade through it while forcing back that same raw pain that had driven his counterpart. It was too much to be in Tony's space, at least a space that was so much him. Down to the sometimes-lingering traces of cologne and shop grease in the air. He couldn't stay. If he stayed, the Big Guy would make a reappearance, and he didn't really want to tear the Malibu house apart. He needed to leave, even if the only place he had to go would also hold traces of his friend. It wouldn't be quite as bad as his one-time home.]

[Before stepping through into the DC door to go to the lab in Gotham:]

[JARVIS]
JARVIS? Let me know what people are planning for a funer-- [...] for services, okay? [That's all he can manage to say about that.]

[Selina, Bucky (as James), Gwen, Pepper]
I have to go for a while. I hope everyone's okay. I just [...] have to go.

I'm sorry.