[GP/EP] Check-in Day

[st_oneswidow]

The woodwinds in her collection were for noodling mostly, and the violin was for memory of her family, but when Curnen really wanted to play she turned again and again to her guitar. This would probably always be her best instrument. It was the first of the month, she’d been here over a year, and it was probably a check-in day. So she sat on the lawn with her instrument in her lap, sending out a subtle magic to call anyone stranded in their little world this way.

At one point, though, she set aside the guitar and turned her face to the sky. For just a few minutes she required a different kind of magic.

It had been a week now since Scanlan had vanished in the battle. And Pike, too, though Curnen honestly couldn’t have cared less about her going away if she tried. Still. The two of them were family to people very dear to her, people who missed them. And Scanlan had been her friend. You marked something like that with a song.

Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

It was a traditional Irish goodbye, a farewell to friends said with love, drinking, well wishes, and the hope of meeting again. She couldn’t think of a better one for the occasion. And as she sang she twined her magic into her voice in a new way, sending the song to any ears that needed it, ears of those who knew and missed the departed. Not all of them might understand it, not all of them knew what she was, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The song was more important than the hiding.

Once the last note had dissipated she picked up her guitar again and resumed her work. If there were anybody out there, they had to know where to go.

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Assigned threads

[st_rongliketeflon]

Liz had been right. Tess had killed Alex. Tess had killed Alex. Maria felt bad that no one had believed Liz all this time. She felt bad she hadn't believed her. Some best friend I am

They were now racing to the desert to tell Max and the others.

"Liz, I am so sorry." She repeated again.

She turned her head and realized Liz was no longer beside her. Maria slammed on the brakes and her car went skidding.

"Liz?!" She said with on setting panic. "Liz!!"

Maria looked around. Liz just vanished. Maria unbuckled herself and stepped out of her car. While it looked like desert, it didn't look like New Mexico desert. Her flip-phone wasn't working.

Her eyes found the Inn.

"Okay, okay. I have no idea what just happened, but I need to get to a phone and we can figure this out." She said to herself.

Maria climbed back into the car and white-knuckle drove all the way to the inn. The parking lot was empty, but the hotel looked like it was open.

She hurried inside and was currently trying not to hyperventilate.

"Hello?? Hello!!" She said. "Anyone know where the payphone is?"

Assigned Threads

[st_ranger]

All he had wanted was to buy some plums. Then suddenly, his face is on a newspaper and he's sure that people would come looking for him. While nobody was staring at him directly, the skin on the back of his neck crawled enough that he knew he had to get moving. Never stay in one place too long.

Of course, he had been there. It always ended up in a fight, even if he wanted to try to help him be otherwise. Come with him. Get out. Let the good Captain save him. There was no saving him. There was no going back to the way that things used to be between them. He saw what the museum said. He remembered snippets. There was a reason he'd pulled Steve out of the river, but he couldn't be the man Steve wanted him to be.

Suddenly, they were compromised. Men breached the dingy apartment, coming in through the door and the windows. Bucky turned, lifting his dirty mattress and using it for cover. His arms swung violently and he upended a table, watching it fly to the door in an attempt to block it and buy them some time. Swing right. Swing left. Block. It came as second nature to him.

Buck, stop! You're going to kill someone. Bucky shook his head, staring at the man in front of him. How badly did he want all the memories, the flashes in his mind to be true. Pushing the Captain to the ground, Bucky made a fist and punched the floorboard. Reaching in, he pulled out a black backpack and tossed it out the window. "I'm not going to kill anyone."

Bucky turned and punched a door, watching it fall to the ground and stepping over it. His eyes narrowed and he took a running leap, off the balcony and landing on a rooftop, dropping and rolling right next to his bug-out bag. Bucky grabbed it and turned right, taking another running leap off the roof to the next one.

Instead, Bucky blinked as he looked up from the pavement where he had landed. Suddenly, he wasn't in Berlin anymore. The former asset moved slowly, stalking the road as he tried to take in his surroundings. His good hand reached up, pulling the cap down lower over his face. It wasn't long before he appeared in front of something very pink. He frowned, not sure what else to do but go in.

He was slow, stealthy as he opened the door as little as possible and slipped through it. He wasn't sure where he was, but as long as there was nobody trying to capture him, he'd deal for now.

assigned threads!

[st_alkingherprey]

"Beta--Beta, I have told you not to do that."

Sighing, Allison leaned back against the kitchen counter, so she didn't have to lean on her fucking crutches, and shook her head as the little silky terrier and sleek black tomcat with pigmented corneas switched breakfast plates on her. It was a not uncommon occurrence, but considering that Beta was on a weight control dog food and Todd was taking glucosamine with his breakfast, it was a problem at least for the time being.

No matter--she'd give Todd treats later, and the glucosamine in Todd's food would be good for Beta's joints.

Letting the pair finish each other's food, Allison grabbed her crutches and started hobbling towards the bathroom, cursing the stupid cast that encased her foot for the millionth time. She hated not being able to hit the street, she hated the stupid plastic fucking bag she had to wear over the goddamn thing, she hated...

...crossing the threshold into the hallway of her apartment, Allison found herself outside.

The situation wasn't unfamiliar to her--once upon a time, it had been a train and not some dusty road, with a monstrous pink building looming in the distance, and a song on the air that stirred strange feelings, had her turning on her crutches to better face the distant structure, to start hobbling forward a few steps to go towards it.

The problem now was that she had a sinking feeling that came with knowing. That she wasn't where she was supposed to be, that she had no recourse, no escape...

That, for the second time in two years, she'd been taken from her home.

So she started hobbling along the crappy dirt road on crutches, with one bare foot and her cast getting filthier by the second--gathering dirt the way rage gathered in her chest, hot and cold at once, burning instead of hurting.

She didn't care about her cast, didn't care what she would look like as she approached what looked like a hotel in cutoffs and a sports bra, or the questions that she might raise with the scars littering her noticeably muscular bare arms and tattooed torso--among those being a couple of bullet grazes and plenty of old knife wounds. And that didn't even include the aged green and yellow bruise still marring her shoulder from the last bullet her body armor deflected, nor did it include the sheath clipped to the inside of her cutoffs, the handles of her ring daggers pressing a comforting weight into the small of her back.

Allison didn't care about a goddamn thing as she struggled up to the door--not the music that propelled her along the road, not the dust, not anything.

She only cared that she was further from home than she had ever been--not just Beacon Hills, but Darrow. Darrow was home now, with her cozy apartment and her pets and her blood soaked second life. She had friends like Tris, family like the Inseparables and Newt. Darrow was where she didn't have to struggle to belong.

She'd been taken from Darrow, and it hurt. It hurt like hell...but she'd endured far too much pain in her life to be able to survive more of it, more loss and grief and regret.

So no, she wasn't scared or aching for home.

As she furiously hobbled up towards the hotel, Allison Argent was seriously pissed off.

Assigned Threads - Steve Rogers

[st_evengrantrogers]

It'd been a beautiful day when he started on his drive; partly cloudy with a light breeze. Steve had climbed onto his motorcycle this morning to take a drive up the California coast. He'd flown out here to clear his head after Peggy's funeral, to try and get his head back in the game. Going to Peggy's funeral and hearing Sharon Carter speak hit him a lot harder than he'd anticipated. There were a lot of conflicting emotions running around in there, ones that he wasn't sure how to handle. So Steve did something a little out of character for him: he ran away.

Then he did something even less in character: he got lost. With his gas tank running on nearly empty, he finally had to stop and ask for directions. He'd been on the road for hours and hours, and found himself completely and entirely lost. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened--and paper maps were an obsolete relic only slightly younger than he was. Natasha had shown him a couple of times how to use the map application on his phone, but he still wasn't used to the thing.

Twilight was gently falling when Steve pulled his motorcycle into the drive, parked, and started up toward the building. He'd noted the name of the hotel on the way in, but didn't think much of it. Madonna. The first connection he made in his head was to the Virgin Mary, not the pop singer. She'd come around way after his time, anyway.

This place looked interesting, and there were plenty of lights on in the windows. A sure sign of life. There must be someone inside who can help him find his way back to the interstate. Steve wasn't sure about things, though, as he headed inside the pink lobby. The concierge knew his name (then again, who didn't?) and insisted that he had a room here in this hotel.

Curiouser and curiouser. Instead of arguing the point, Steve gave a gentle, "thank you" and took the proffered key. Best to avoid conflict. Maybe there was someone else here that could help him figure all of this out. He turned to look around the lobby, wishing that he'd taken up Tony on the offer for more training on the blasted pocket computer. Then Steve decided to just get out of this place. He headed out to where he'd parked his bike... but the bike was gone.

Assigned Threads

[st_runningshoes]

Where is he? No, really where is he? This isn't the Farringham School for Boys. Panic and fear rush to his face. As his mind tries to understand but can't is completely overwhelmed. So, rather than face the reality of the situation decides denial is better.

Okay; this is a dream one of those dreams where he has those two hearts.

So - the magic blue box that transports him to a far-off place brought him here. After all, that's more logical than just randomly appearing in the middle of a dirt road.

It's a dream. He can roll with that.

The Adventurer decides since this is a dream, very obviously to venture onwards and comes across the hotel. So far so good and rather tame. None of those weird creatures - yet and John allows himself inside.

"Hello?"

OTA

[st_artliving]

As she sometimes did on arrival days, Xavin set herself up to make coffee in the café instead of the library. Hot beverages were soothing, and new arrivals often needed soothing. Hot beverage, a smile... and it helped, perhaps, that the smile could be delivered by a pretty girl or a pretty boy, depending on preferences.

OTA

[st_ranger]

Bucky Barnes wasn't normally a skittish man. In his past, he had been precise, trained and able to handle anything. This place, though, was surely testing his limits. There was a reason that he'd wanted to just run away and hide. Here, in this place, he wasn't sure hiding was going to be an option.

The woman he'd met had been helpful, if a bit troubling. She'd been able to give him the information that he needed, most of it anyway. He even wouldn't mind speaking with her again. He still wasn't sure about her, but he could relate to her on some level. They both were running from something. Tony, on the other hand, was not someone he has planned to run into. That was why Bucky was skittish. While he had not been hurt, the potential for it was there. If he could, he would surely give Stark a wide birth as much as he could.

Shrugging his shoulders, Bucky turned and made his way through the rest of the hotel. He would need to find his room, eventually. He had no idea who else he would run into in this mad place.