Misha Hunt [ Dʀᴀɢᴏɴғʟʏ ] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
interspace) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-03-07 02:45 am
interspace) wrote in towerofanimus2013-03-07 02:45 am
Entry tags:
. 001 .
Characters: OPEN; special guest appearance by Misha Hunt.
Setting: Dorm 1-17/dorm level 01; floors 101, 001, 003, 004. Late into the night of 03/07 (or is that early into the night?).
Format: Start with prose or brackets and I'll follow your lead.
Summary: Going down? Nah... let's go up instead. (Superhero is not impressed with this shit.)
Warnings: Misha might ~know your canon~ if you give permission for it! Spooky, right?
Of all the things to wake up to (without even remembering falling asleep in the first place), this was not one of the possible devious plots on Misha's list. She would give it several points for originality and style of those letters, but the fact of the matter was that, overall, she was not amused. Getting into her groove after that bout of paralysis upon wakening was difficult, but finding ALFRED in the chest at her bed's foot along with discovering the strange collar she couldn't phase away from got her into a right paranoid, heroic fit.
It was after a keen look around the room that she stepped outside, fitting the earbuds in and clicking her visor into place over their fittings. The armband making up ALFRED's hardware could go over her stupid jumpsuit for now, and her jacket would do to cover some of it. Getting her makeup on to cover the large, multipronged scarring over her face could wait. What interested her almost immediately was the elevator at the end of the floor (never mind how many other captives the depraved idiot of a supervillain may have taken, judging by all the names by the doors).
"Can't be that easy... can it?" she muttered.
I don't mean to alarm you, Misha, ALFRED's slightly-tinny tones cut in, but my external communication systems have been completely severed. Why, it's as if they never existed. Rather, the components never did, although the subroutines for them still appear to be in tact.
Misha grunted to herself. "Okay, so this guy is more competent than I thought. But an elevator? A staircase? Psht. Easy-peasy."
—
All right, so maybe getting out was not nearly as simple as Misha had first believed it might be. She couldn't phase outside the walls, nor did she seem able to get very far down the stairs. She was just supremely lucky that her balance didn't give out, else she might have fallen over the stairs entirely into some sort of horrible, gravity-induced death.
Which would suck.
Sure, the room was beautiful, but inspecting it in closer detail could wait once she figured out how to get her powers online fully on it, rather than taking a dive onto the floor and hope for a way out. She was definitely not in the mood to go experimenting without her power at hand — which certainly meant anyone hoping to drag her down... would probably have an easy time of it, actually.
"Well, cross this floor off, ol' buddy, ol' pal. Let's see what's around the elevator."
You've got it, bud.
"Now you're just being sarcastic."
—
Much better. Getting to the base of this crazily-gigantic skyscraper was stupidly easy, since it looked like whoever installed their Supers-B-Gone forgot to add a conduit to the elevator shaft. As much as she hated to admit it, hunger pains were gnawing at her already. Did she dare eat whatever gruel they were offering here despite the risks? None of the lunch ladies seemed really interested in answering her questions, which meant she would either have to flag someone down or continue on.
After some internal debate, Misha threw her hands into the air. "It's only a hop, skip and a jump away, right?" Never mind the fact that she probably looked crazy for apparently talking to herself. It helped soothe her nerves.
—
The infirmary, while useful to know where it was located, was of no help to Misha right now. They didn't actually seem to have a lot of heavy medical tools, which meant trying to cut the collar off would be useless. Up the floor Misha went, and lo and behold, a font of wisdom had made its home on the third floor.
Her next hour or two was spent searching the bookshelves, forgoing ladders to reach the higher tomes and chairs were forgotten as she simply settled into the air above to skim her current interest's contents. It went faster that way; her nerves were beginning to fray and the longer she looked, the less she liked the cut of the tower's jibe. Something was wrong here.
—
It was in the observatory-like level where Misha made her last stop for the night, hands pressed against the large glass to try and peek into the infinity beyond the borders.
"This is stupid," she muttered. "This isn't like... anything. Why am I the only one here? We're way past cute now."
Setting: Dorm 1-17/dorm level 01; floors 101, 001, 003, 004. Late into the night of 03/07 (or is that early into the night?).
Format: Start with prose or brackets and I'll follow your lead.
Summary: Going down? Nah... let's go up instead. (Superhero is not impressed with this shit.)
Warnings: Misha might ~know your canon~ if you give permission for it! Spooky, right?
Of all the things to wake up to (without even remembering falling asleep in the first place), this was not one of the possible devious plots on Misha's list. She would give it several points for originality and style of those letters, but the fact of the matter was that, overall, she was not amused. Getting into her groove after that bout of paralysis upon wakening was difficult, but finding ALFRED in the chest at her bed's foot along with discovering the strange collar she couldn't phase away from got her into a right paranoid, heroic fit.
It was after a keen look around the room that she stepped outside, fitting the earbuds in and clicking her visor into place over their fittings. The armband making up ALFRED's hardware could go over her stupid jumpsuit for now, and her jacket would do to cover some of it. Getting her makeup on to cover the large, multipronged scarring over her face could wait. What interested her almost immediately was the elevator at the end of the floor (never mind how many other captives the depraved idiot of a supervillain may have taken, judging by all the names by the doors).
"Can't be that easy... can it?" she muttered.
I don't mean to alarm you, Misha, ALFRED's slightly-tinny tones cut in, but my external communication systems have been completely severed. Why, it's as if they never existed. Rather, the components never did, although the subroutines for them still appear to be in tact.
Misha grunted to herself. "Okay, so this guy is more competent than I thought. But an elevator? A staircase? Psht. Easy-peasy."
—
All right, so maybe getting out was not nearly as simple as Misha had first believed it might be. She couldn't phase outside the walls, nor did she seem able to get very far down the stairs. She was just supremely lucky that her balance didn't give out, else she might have fallen over the stairs entirely into some sort of horrible, gravity-induced death.
Which would suck.
Sure, the room was beautiful, but inspecting it in closer detail could wait once she figured out how to get her powers online fully on it, rather than taking a dive onto the floor and hope for a way out. She was definitely not in the mood to go experimenting without her power at hand — which certainly meant anyone hoping to drag her down... would probably have an easy time of it, actually.
"Well, cross this floor off, ol' buddy, ol' pal. Let's see what's around the elevator."
You've got it, bud.
"Now you're just being sarcastic."
—
Much better. Getting to the base of this crazily-gigantic skyscraper was stupidly easy, since it looked like whoever installed their Supers-B-Gone forgot to add a conduit to the elevator shaft. As much as she hated to admit it, hunger pains were gnawing at her already. Did she dare eat whatever gruel they were offering here despite the risks? None of the lunch ladies seemed really interested in answering her questions, which meant she would either have to flag someone down or continue on.
After some internal debate, Misha threw her hands into the air. "It's only a hop, skip and a jump away, right?" Never mind the fact that she probably looked crazy for apparently talking to herself. It helped soothe her nerves.
—
The infirmary, while useful to know where it was located, was of no help to Misha right now. They didn't actually seem to have a lot of heavy medical tools, which meant trying to cut the collar off would be useless. Up the floor Misha went, and lo and behold, a font of wisdom had made its home on the third floor.
Her next hour or two was spent searching the bookshelves, forgoing ladders to reach the higher tomes and chairs were forgotten as she simply settled into the air above to skim her current interest's contents. It went faster that way; her nerves were beginning to fray and the longer she looked, the less she liked the cut of the tower's jibe. Something was wrong here.
—
It was in the observatory-like level where Misha made her last stop for the night, hands pressed against the large glass to try and peek into the infinity beyond the borders.
"This is stupid," she muttered. "This isn't like... anything. Why am I the only one here? We're way past cute now."
no subject
He took a breath, "Last month Dax helped some people go in the elevator, that's like a magic box that moves and they found something like a machine which took out peoples souls when they die because we can't die here we just wake up again and that's because they stole our souls from God and brought them here.
And then Ruana got really mad..." He swallowed because this was scary and sad and he didn't like thinking about it but the lady wanted more details that was what extrapolation meant. "She ate him, miss..."