(no subject)

[h_hollister]

She had the bazookoid cartridge open on her desk, her florescent lamp tilted down so she could see it all clearly, staring at the innards of wires and circuit boards.

It was the last cartridge of its kind left anywhere in this universe.

And it was empty.

She was trying to see if there was any way, any way at all, to recharge it.

Unfortunately, since she hadn't attended MIT and did not have degrees in particle emissions and physics and chemistry AND computer science... It was rather like watching a infant try to read War & Peace in its original Russian. Only with less drooling.

She thought she recognized a few componants, though. Like, this little chip, here, probably controlled the...

She prodded an experimental finger toward the chip in question, and was immediately horrified to hear a terrible little *snap.*

Smeg!

Closing her eyes, she withdrew her finger slowly, then glanced down. Yup. Snapped the chip right off.

She moaned and bowed her head, pushing the lamp up and away. Well. That was that. Nicely done, Hipster. No more big shooty gun for you. You fail. Wouldn't life be so much simpler if you'd A) stayed in your own time and B) been able to stay on the Dwarf? The Dwarf has an unlimited supply, since you'd be the only one drawing from it...

...

Oh. Holy. Shit.

DUH!

Trying not to get too excited, she fired up her PINpoint and rifled through the directions. She needed to find out how she could get the coordinates for an unknown location. Since she'd left the Dwarf two years ago, it had surely drifted from where they left it.

Oh. Oh, right. Radiation. Lots and lots of it. That she put there. If she PINpointed herself onto the Dwarf, she'd be toast. Very, very BURNT toast. With no butter or jam in evidence.

Damnation.

So. Okay. Two obstacles. Gotta figure out the coordinates. Gotta get a high rad suit and gieger counter.

The former, she could probably do on her own. Shay Caron had designed the PINpoints to be extremely user friendly. The latter...

Where could she dig up a high radiation suit? Hrm...

Oh. Duh.

Norman Osborn would probably have a few. Heh.

She poked her head out of her room, looking for Nadezhda.

Comments

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

Who is, for the moment, not doing anything at all other than lying on the couch with a crap romance novel and a cup of coffee, smoking.

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"Hey you. Whatcha reading?"

She perches herself on the back of the sofa, glancing down at her friend.

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

She looks up with a grin. "'Passion's Flame'. I've got to the bit where Lord Ravenscroft has revealed to Mackenzie Gray that not only does he love her with a true and abiding and pants-tenting sort of passion, but he is also the long-lost prince of some weird little nation that happens to be disgustingly rich."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"Oh my! Are there bosoms? Do they heave? And tell me that there are no throbbing manroots, please." She slithers onto the couch and lights up her own cigarette.

"Hey, you think you could take me to Norman's lab later on today? I wanna ask him a favor."

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

"Oh, the heavingest and throbbingest. There's a lot in here that I think is actually anatomically impossible, but am not really willing to test the hypothesis."

She reaches out with a foot and nudges the ashtray closer. "I can certainly take you there, but you will be weirded out like a weird thing."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"Eh. I'm starting to get inured to the whole 'weird Nexus smeg' that goes on. Hell, Greg and I and a bunch of other people are having similar dreams, apparently. Besides, I'll be there on business. I can push down the 'zomgwhat' impulse to get the job done."

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

"Oh, lord. No, I merely meant that Osborn's become something of an immanent guardian force, or possibly a minor god, and has taken to accepting sacrifices. Don't be surprised when the walls talk to you."

She ashes.

"What is it you need?"

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"...Guardian force? Minor god? Accepting sacrifices? Smegging hell. That's no good for anybody's ego. Is he gonna be okay?"

She also ashes, and then swipes a sip from Dez's coffee.

"I need a high rad suit. Preferably one that's shielded against cadmium2 radiation specifically."

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

"Actually he seems to be handling it with aplomb, but I still get the willies thinking about the whole situation. He can probably provide you with such a suit, although I'm not sure about the particular isotope protection."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"Oh, boy. If you're getting the willies, then you know it's bad. But forewarned, forearmed, blah blah blah." She stretches out for a moment, and cracks her knuckles.

"I'd be willing to settle for Lots Of Lead Lining, frankly. Being on the Dwarf again ain't gonna be a stroll through the park, but I need to do it."

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

Nadezhda absently starts rubbing her shoulders. "What do you need from the Dwarf, or shouldn't I ask?"

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

She sighs. "Mmmm. Wa- Deadpool used up all my bazookoid ammo. I'm going to get more. And see what else I can rustle up off that ship. Some of that tech is priceless. Like the hologram projection units. And the psi-scanners. And the med tech. Good stuff. Can't just let it dissolve away into nothing. O'course, it'll be pretty heavily irradiated, so we'll have to figure out how to fix that... but, hey. Gods, magic and Nexus. It'll happen."

[crackofthunder.livejournal.com]

Speak of the Decepticon, the man walks in as he's being discussed, but he has to stop and blink for a moment, as he enters hesitantly.

And Nadezdha is oddly... mauling Hippolyta. Sort of.

He doesn't know what to say.

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

She sees him come in and smiles at him, while Dez is still working on her shoulders.

"Hey you. Pardon us, we're turning the flat into a massage parlor for today. Oohsssss." Dez has just hit a tender spot.

[crackofthunder.livejournal.com]

"A massage parlor," he repeats, obviously unfamilar with the phrase.

"Seems an elaborate way to say 'groping.'" He manages a smile. Manage smiles, Cracker. Don't be the cause of irritation.

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"It's... oooh... a way to get muscles to release tension. Feels nice. 'Specially since she's so good at this. I'll show you later." Big grin. "You'll like it."

[crackofthunder.livejournal.com]

"I look forward to it. I like groping."

Don't look at Nadezhda.

"I brought donuts. I missed the specific ones from the shop up the street while we were gone."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

"Ooooh! Donuts and massage! My day has just been made. Thank you, Tee."

Yeah, he's not comfortable with Dez here. Smeg.

"Find any new and exciting books you want to discuss?"

[crackofthunder.livejournal.com]

He steps over and places the half-empty box of donuts in front of her, going to the fridge for some sort of beverage.

"I looked for 'How To Make Flight A Soulless Experience' by Any Major Airline, but found nothing. Have you found your giant gun?"

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

She reaches over and grabs a donut, interrupting her massage momentarily, before settling back in.

"Heh. I knew it. Sorry, Tee. Maybe hang gliding? Or parasailing?

And, yeah, Deadpool gave me my gun back, sans ammo. I'm going to get more. Tomorrow, perhaps. We'll see how my meeting with Norman Osborn goes. Oooh."

Mm. Donuts and massage. Nice.

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

She has been no more intrusive than the furniture, leaning on Hollister's shoulders; now she gets up. "I'm sorry...lousy hostess I am. It's...good to see you again, Thunder."

[h-hollister.livejournal.com]

Oh, boy...

Please, Thunder, please don't be upset. This is part of life, too. I'm here if you need me.

At least, that's what she's trying to say in her look to him.

[crackofthunder.livejournal.com]

He responds quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

"The feeling is mutual, Nadezhda," he says, without looking back at her as he rifles through the fridge. "But don't worry about hostess duties. I've... become used to making myself at home here. I hope you don't mind."

[cold-hope.livejournal.com]

"Not in the least. I'm...glad."

She sits back on the couch, visibly calm. "How was Los Angeles?"

[crackofthunder.livejournal.com]

"Somewhat unpleasant, but warm. Expansive. Expensive. Difficult to traverse on foot. A different variety of human to see."

His vision remains focused on kitchen duties, pulling out sandwich materials, unwilling to turn to face them.

Even he knows it's petulant.