[Gift shops were something of a weakness of Jemma's. Not so severe as to be on the list of transgressions that she now kept in her pocket, but there was something fascinating in both a good and bad way about what people would emblazon their place name on -- keychains, shot glasses, statuary, t-shirts, nothing too big or too gaudy to declare "Hey, I Went Here and Bought a Thing!" And there's certainly an interesting selection in this shop.
Back in the corner she finds a bar and the jukebox, bright and bold as any you might find in a cheesy diner. She's leery of pouring herself anything to drink, given how she'd woken up, but she flips through the music, noticing the pattern: Sympathy for the Devil, Highway to Hell, Devil Went Down to Georgia, Go to Hell -- well, at least they could keep with a theme.]
2. Stand Your Ground - I
[Jemma was from England and used to rain. All year round, cold winter rains that almost froze to ice on the pavement and was slick to walk or drive in, warm rains in the summer that were for children to play in, and everything in between. What she was not accustomed to was fire and blood dropping from the sky.
By the time she realized what the thick liquid soaking her clothes and hair was, it was mostly too late. She choked on a scream and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She nearly slips as she sprints into the hotel lobby, now dripping with blood. Jemma. It's just blood. You've done autopsies and surgery and been injured and injured others. Don't lose your wits.
That pep talk is going to go on for a little bit longer.]
3. Reach Up High - I
[The hotel was being overrun. And while she wouldn't have said she felt safe by any stretch of the imagination, it was much less threatening behind her barricaded door with (your character!). She has a weapon, just a simple fireman's ax which she'd taken from the box in the hall -- which really, seems sort of ridiculous, given that this is Hell and who is going to try and put out a fire in Hell--
Jemma jumps and squeezes her eyes shut when there's a bang on the wall near the door, and then a scratching noise at the door, like a dog wanting to be let in. It goes eerily silent for a moment, and she hopes whatever is on the other side has merely gone away. She releases the breath she'd been holding, shakily, and makes herself open her eyes.]
Jemma Simmons || Agents of SHIELD || OTA
[Gift shops were something of a weakness of Jemma's. Not so severe as to be on the list of transgressions that she now kept in her pocket, but there was something fascinating in both a good and bad way about what people would emblazon their place name on -- keychains, shot glasses, statuary, t-shirts, nothing too big or too gaudy to declare "Hey, I Went Here and Bought a Thing!" And there's certainly an interesting selection in this shop.
Back in the corner she finds a bar and the jukebox, bright and bold as any you might find in a cheesy diner. She's leery of pouring herself anything to drink, given how she'd woken up, but she flips through the music, noticing the pattern: Sympathy for the Devil, Highway to Hell, Devil Went Down to Georgia, Go to Hell -- well, at least they could keep with a theme.]
2. Stand Your Ground - I
[Jemma was from England and used to rain. All year round, cold winter rains that almost froze to ice on the pavement and was slick to walk or drive in, warm rains in the summer that were for children to play in, and everything in between. What she was not accustomed to was fire and blood dropping from the sky.
By the time she realized what the thick liquid soaking her clothes and hair was, it was mostly too late. She choked on a scream and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She nearly slips as she sprints into the hotel lobby, now dripping with blood. Jemma. It's just blood. You've done autopsies and surgery and been injured and injured others. Don't lose your wits.
That pep talk is going to go on for a little bit longer.]
3. Reach Up High - I
[The hotel was being overrun. And while she wouldn't have said she felt safe by any stretch of the imagination, it was much less threatening behind her barricaded door with (your character!). She has a weapon, just a simple fireman's ax which she'd taken from the box in the hall -- which really, seems sort of ridiculous, given that this is Hell and who is going to try and put out a fire in Hell--
Jemma jumps and squeezes her eyes shut when there's a bang on the wall near the door, and then a scratching noise at the door, like a dog wanting to be let in. It goes eerily silent for a moment, and she hopes whatever is on the other side has merely gone away. She releases the breath she'd been holding, shakily, and makes herself open her eyes.]
I hope that door holds.
4. Something Else
[You pick something. \o/]