strangetrip | GP: April Fools!

It didn't take any sort of precognitive abilities to predict some kind of shenanigans on the first of April. Many of the people stuck in the bubble world of the Madonna Inn were from times and places where April Fools' Day pranks were normal, expected... (in many cases) minor annoyances. And then there were the residents who remembered the strange egg hunt from a year ago, and the sometimes confusing explanations of the two holidays falling on the same day and how that related.

Also, life at the inn could be interminable. After a while, people started hoping for some kind of strangeness to happen, just to break up the monotony of being trapped in a kitschy no-snow globe.

So, no. You didn't have to be a mutant fortune teller to expect some kind of joke being pulled. But Emma was, and even she had no idea what was coming, other than it was going to be frustrating and topsy-turny, and the visions she'd been getting from the tarot – and way more reversals than was usual or healthy in her experience – were even less clear than usual.

She definitely didn't foresee waking up without the powers that were as much a part of her as her heart. Or just as suddenly having powers she had no idea how to control. But she did, and she had*, and she was far from the only one. The same thing was happening to people all around the inn.

(*Not to worry. The singe marks should be gone in a day or so. Right?)

[Powers swap GP! Tag in. Tag around. It's a time for out and about at the inn coping (or not) with powers gained (or lost).]

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"Yeah..."

Bucky turned, smiling awkwardly towards Emma. Nodding his head, he lowered his arms and moved over to her, his approach slow and hesitant. He didn't know what to say about what was happening to him. He didn't know. The feeling inside of him made him very confused.

One arm gently raised to her as he spoke. It was easier to come closer and not yell his head off. "Hey," he murmured. "I... I'm not sure what happened..."

Emma shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure herself, and the cards weren't giving her anything in the way of clues today. All she had were the disjointed warnings she'd gotten beforehand.

"It's going around. Almost like the inn took our powers, gave them a good shuffle, and redealt them around. " It was strange, seeing him without the metal arm that was the first thing most people noticed about him, but Emma didn't stare.

"Mostly it's confusing and frustrating, and-" And just thinking about it made some of that frustration bleed through again, and Emma channeled it into yet another fireball that coalesced above her open palm, "I decided if I was going to be throwing fireballs, it was probably best to do it away from the inn... which right now just makes me want to blast it even more."

"Fireballs. Can't say that I have that power," he teased gently.

At least, he didn't think that he did. After what he'd seen, he really wasn't sure anymore. Anything strong enough to make this inn or swap people's powers around wasn't something to be trifled with lightly. He hated it, but he couldn't just go yelling at the walls, could he?

Bucky shook his head. "Makes me worry what happened to other people. Friends. Loved ones. Who knows?" Bucky bit his lip, looking up at Emma. "Why? Why would they do this to us? We're already trapped. Why can't they just leave us alone?"

Jag.

Emma hadn't tried to see him, not after Coby gave her a heads-up what was going on with him. An out of control empath, and especially with as labile as she'd been all day... she couldn't do that to him.

She shrugged. "My metaphorical Magic 8 Ball isn't speaking to me right now," for some reason it was easier talking about it as something other than the tarot right now, when her cards showed her nothing, "but even when my powers were working right, I never got any good answers about how and why we were here. But there are plenty who would do this sort of thing just because they like torturing people." That was what it felt like. Some kind of torture.

Bucky sighed, nodding his head slowly. Torture. That was how it felt, at least in part to him. He had a history of torture and he knew a thing or two about it. His previous experiences were physical torture, nothing so emotional, but he knew a thing or two. She looked as confused as he did and he doubted highly that Emma didn't have anything to do with it. If she did, she wouldn't have sought him out, even accidentally.

"It might have been an accident," he murmured. "Doubtful, but maybe." Bucky glanced down at his hands, then back up to her. "I don't want to get used to this. Normally? This is metal." He held up one of his hands, wiggling the fingers at her. "The minute I get used to it, I'm sure I will lose it. Won't I?"

"Most of the time when weird stuff happens here, it only lasts a few days at most." Emma had been reminding herself of that off and on all day. She needed it to be true this time too.

"Right now I'm just trying to cope with the way things are, the way I might if I was sick or injured. Try not to make things worse until they get back to normal." She shrugged, again. "And not hurt anybody else in the process. If my room gets a little singed in the process, the inn will fix itself."

GP: April Fools!

Re: Bucky & Emma C

Re: Bucky & Emma C

Re: Bucky & Emma C

Re: Bucky & Emma C

Re: Bucky & Emma C

Re: Bucky & Emma C