entrancelogs | [OPEN] Ready or Not...

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Ready or Not...

Who: Natasha & whichever unlucky souls stumble across her!
Where: the kitchen
When: evening of 4/21
Rating: PG-13ish? There might be cursing but hopefully no violence. Probably. Maybe? >.>
Summary: Hello, Wonderland! There's a spy rooting through your drawers. Wait, that didn't come out right...
The Story:
Natasha knows something is off before she even opens her eyes.

She's slumped over a solid surface, her head cushioned on her arms, toes just barely reaching the floor beneath the stool or whatever it is she's perched on. She goes from the unawareness of sleep - or unconsciousness? - to high alert in the span of a heartbeat, although visibly she doesn't so much as twitch. Her breathing remains calm and even as though she were still deeply asleep, but she's already cataloging what her senses can tell her without the aid of her eyes.

This is not her sofa, where she's fairly certain she'd drifted off a short while earlier. Her thoughts are clear, not clouded or foggy, no telltale traces of a foreign agent responsible for missing time and changed locations. She's unhurt except for the lingering ache of still-healing injuries and as far as she can tell there's nothing restraining her. It's quiet - no hint of anyone else around, although she waits almost a minute to be sure before letting her eyes slide open.

The kitchen's unfamiliar. Large, well-equipped, tall windows letting in the warm rays of a setting sun. There's a bowl of fruit at the other end of the counter, simple and unassuming. Nothing is familiar and nothing stands out as obviously out of place, other than her. It's just a kitchen. One she's got no idea how she arrived in, but at least she's apparently been given the freedom to look around.

Natasha slides off the stool to prowl around the room, checking the windows first but there's no one in sight, just an ornate stretch of gardens outside. Her second task is rooting through the kitchen drawers in search of a knife or anything else she can use as a weapon.

She's not sure why she's here, if she's in danger or not, but she likes to be prepared for anything, just in case. And call it paranoia but waking up somewhere strange and unfamiliar - no matter how pleasant - rarely results in anything good.

On second thought, maybe she'll borrow a few knives...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Scott couldn't help but notice the rather distinct sound of someone rifling through a drawer of silverware and other utensils. It wasn't particularly loud, but it was enough for his enhanced hearing to pick up as he passed the kitchen. So he backtracked and peeked inside. Wow, okay. He knocks lightly on the door frame to get her attention. You do not just walk up behind a woman gathering knives and startle them. Even if you do happen to possess a supernatural healing factor. Healing or not, it still hurts!

"Um... You know, it's probably easier to ask the closet for something more specific than steak knives. ...if you're looking for weapons, I mean." Why else would anyone be collecting blades in such haste? And yes, Scott sounds totally sane. Just ask the closet. It makes perfect sense to a newbie.

Her head comes up, awareness prickling at the back of her neck for no reason she can name, because the young man standing there looks relatively harmless. She'd heard him before the knock though and when he tries for her attention, she's got no weapons in hand or anywhere else visible. Not that she doesn't have them now, they're just safely tucked out of sight with an adept slight of hand.

Natasha straightens, one hand resting atop the counter as she opens her mouth to answer and then pauses, his opening words sinking in. Her eyes scrunch slightly in confusion.

"Ask... the closet. Was that supposed to make sense?"

Then again, nothing was making sense since waking up in a strange kitchen with no idea how she'd gotten here.

Scott blinks. Oh.

"You really are new. Sorry, I haven't met everyone here yet, so I wasn't sure. Yeah, uh... I guess it sounds kinda dumb if you don't know what I'm talking about." Scott frowns a bit, scratching the back of his head in thought. Okay, so he'd done this with Erica. He could do this again, right? Except, he knew her. He knew how she took things. Sort of. He didn't know this woman, and she had no reason to believe him.

He steps into the room a bit more, but doesn't get more than a few meters of her. Something about her makes him nervous. It was that feeling he got when there was danger. Thank you werewolf senses for being an ominous, cryptic pain in the neck.

"It's like... some scifi thing. Sorta. Everyone has a closet in their rooms here. If you ask it for something, it usually, um... kind of creates it?" He sounds so unsure near the end of that sentence, because honestly, he doesn't know the specifics about it either. "Okay, less scifi and more magical? I'm really not as crazy as I sound." He laughs lightly, nervously. The chemosignals he was getting from here were mixed and somewhat overwhelming. He didn't even understand half of them. He was too new at this sort of thing.

In for a penny... "You're in Wonderland. It's not much like the book, actually, but all the weird stuff is real."

"Wonderland," she echoes and she can't help the skepticism thick in that word as she glances around her, letting herself relax, physically projecting that she doesn't mean harm. She hasn't missed the way he's nervous and fidgety and keeping his distance and she hadn't meant to cause that but maybe he's more observant than he appears, so she makes the extra effort.

"Yes, I'm new. Apparently. By a few minutes, I think, but I'm not entirely certain because I'm not sure how, exactly, I got here. Or why. But you're not surprised to find that I am nw here so I'm guessing this is a thing that happens? What else can you tell me?"

Since he seems willing to give her answers, she might as well press for them.

Unintentionally observant. He's trying very desperately to turn off his supernatural senses right now, but just thinking about them seems to be drawing them out more. If he isn't careful... So he focuses on her words, instead.

"Yeah, it happens. A lot. Um, I think we all went through it at one time or another. Some of us... go through it more than once." And then there are some who go through it and don't remember that they've been here before. He's still apologising to people for having no clue who they are. "Yeah, lemme see. I didn't really believe in magic before I got here, but apparently that's what this place is, I think. It kinda grabs you from your home and drops you here. It gets weirder, even, than that. See, where I'm from, certain events are happening. But, say, my best friend, Stiles, says what I remember from home isn't the last thing he remembers. You'd think, okay, I've been gone a long time. But it's not like that. Because, to him, I've been there the whole time. It sounds crazy, but this place--it can pull you from different times. Which would be totally awesome if it wasn't so confusing."

Scott pauses. Her change in demeanour did seem to help him relax a bit, and deliberately not focusing on the signals she was giving off, and more on what he was saying, seemed to also play a factor in it. "It's... It's really a lot to take in. If you want me to slow down or explain anything, just ask and I'll try. I was totally bombarded by my friends when I got here, so I know how insane it all sounds." He waits for that all to sink in before he intends to continue, letting her ask whatever questions she has on her mind first.

That is a lot to digest, especially since she's not sure she can buy any of it and not the fact that maybe she's somehow unknowingly wound up in an asylum somewhere with people who have no concept of reality. And there are important bits of information he may have unknowing dropped in there that she's going to need time to parse through, but she takes it a little at a time.

"So you know others that are here, were here when you arrived. Is that also fairly common?" And if that case, were any of her teammates here without her knowing? Especially if, as he said, people could be plucked haphazardly out of timelines with no one being the wiser. She wasn't sure she believed in magic, but a year ago she hadn't believed in gods either. And had been ambivalent over the existence of aliens.

A lot's changed in a year.

"Yeah, it can be. Not everyone seems to have that kinda luck, though. Most of my friends were already here and others have arrived after me. ...some aren't exactly friends, actually. I don't think whatever brings us here really pays attention to good or bad or human or not..." He'll let that one just hang there for now.

He really must sound sane, but she's handling this pretty well. "When I got here, I was lost in a freaking maze. I kind had to call out for help on my phone, and my friends found out I was here that way. You might try asking the network if there's anyone here you know." No, he isn't a mind reader, but that's generally where that question tends to lead. It's what he would have been thinking about if their positions had been reversed.

"If you don't have a phone, you can use mine, if you want." Scott has considerably calmed since they started chatting and she stopped seeming so threatening. Then he seems to start, looking up quickly. "Oh! I'm Scott, by the way. Sorry, I guess I should've started with that." He smiled genuinely.

She catches that mention all the same, because that's unusual for most people to bring up, but she's encountered enough that aren't for that to be very very relevant and she focuses in on it. "I take it that means there are people here who aren't... entirely human?" Or human at all. But what were they instead?

"I have a..." At his explanation of his own arrival, her hand goes to her jacket pocket where her phone rests and she pulls it out, only to find its not hers, although it's close. This one is definitely not SHIELD secure, but considering those two aren't exactly synonymous anymore, maybe that's a good thing. "Everyone here has one of these? That's what you all use to communicate." Useful, and one she'd have to try later on.

"Thank you for the offer though," she added with a smile, one that warmed when he stuttered over his introduction. She held out her hand to him in mutual greeting, calm and easy. "I'm Natasha."

A momentary flicker of panic sparked in his eyes, but he pushed it away quickly. She was incredibly perceptive, and he suddenly felt out of his depth. He could easily swing it by your every day person, but she seemed abnormally keen.

"Y-yeah. There are some. Uh... strange kinda creatures. Y'know. From what I've heard." He's talking too fast. He forces himself to take a steady breath and slow down. "There are also people here that call themselves everything from hunters to angels. It's like we fell into a melding pot of Scifi-fantasy books."

Then he eyes the phone and nods. "Yeah, pretty much. But, if you don't like that one, you can usually get one more to your taste from the closet. Magic closet and all."

He took her hand with the introduction and smiled warmly again. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."

She arches an eyebrow, picking up all the signals he's unintentionally giving her and he's nervous - also possibly lying, but she doesn't think its about the strange creatures.

"Angels. You mean... with wings and the glowing halo? Or are we talking about something else here? And hunters are strange creatures now? That explains so much about rednecks. Hunters of what exactly?"

She gives his hand a light squeeze, warm and friendly in return because he's interesting, even if he isn't being completely honest with her. She can work with that, though. She expects it of most people.

"So can you tell me why I am here? Wonderland's decided to start collecting people or something? Magic closets are nice and all but I was sort of in the middle of something back home."

Oh, the woes of being an inexperienced teenager. His heart is still pounding way too fast, but he has managed to school his features.

"Well, they don't exactly have wings and halos, but they're those kind of angels. I haven't met any of them yet, I don't think, but my friend Isaac knows one." But her next comment makes him laugh, and that does help him calm down. "These kind of hunters hunt the creatures and things that live back home. Like, um..." He fidgets. "Y'know, just stuff from movies and stuff. I know a couple werewolf hunters. With the knife thing, I kinda thought you might be a hunter."

He isn't completely honest with most people. But despite the danger signals he got from her, he can't help but like her.

"They don't make it real clear why any of us are here. I've heard rumours, but nothing anyone seems to be able to back up. What I get out of it is that we're here because Wonderland needs us? But I don't know why. Since the only people I've met are people that have been abducted, I haven't been able to ask." He looks down. "Sorry I can't give you a better answer."

To her credit, she doesn't bat an eye when he brings up werewolves, although inwardly she has a moment of surprise, learning that apparently there's worlds out there with things as strange as Asgardian gods running amok and aliens invading New York. Or, at the very least, things that go bump in the night.

"No," is the answer she gives though, her lips quirking into a crooked smile. "I'm not a hunter. I don't think I could pull off the camouflage." She prefers other methods of blending in unseen. "There are werewolves where you come from? Really?" She sounds more curious than skeptical, her expression interested as she asks after that point.

She gives his apology an understanding smile, faint and fleeting. "No need to apologize when you're in the same boat I am. You had as much choice in it as I did, it seems."

Her crack about the camouflage brings a smile back to his features follows by a small snort of a laugh. He's pretty sure she could pull off whatever she wanted and do it with style, but he wasn't going to say that.

"Yeah. Some are good. A lot of them are good, actually. But just like regular people, some are not so good. The only difference is they have extra senses and strengths to do 'not so good' things. But that's where some of the good ones come in. They can help fight the bad ones." Wow, is he really reasoning werewolf society in Beacon Hills at her? Honestly, he hadn't actually ever said it out loud before, and it made more sense that way. "Some... can't control themselves. So they're pretty much um... they don't mean to be violent sometimes." And now he's nervous again. He hasn't slipped up since he got here, even with the few full moon's he's been through. And honestly, it's getting easier, even with Allison and Isaac... dating. Don'tthinkaboutit! He cleared his throat rather abruptly and looked up, as if that would shove the thoughts away.

"But yeah, other werewolves train new werewolves to control their new 'powers' and things balance out." He said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks." He smiled softly, appreciating her understanding. "It's not so bad here, y'know? At least, not for me. I miss people back home, but... there are people here now that, well, that didn't make it back home."

She grins when she gets a laugh from him, shifting until she can hop up to perch on the edge of the counter. Her posture remains relaxed and nonthreatening, since he's seemed to loosen up a lot since she started carefully projecting.

"So they're... enhanced." It was a concept she was familiar with and she devoured this information with intent fascination. "You seem to know quite a bit about them. So how much of the other lore is true? They get turned by a bite? They go all furry on the full moon? Are some of them here?"

Werewolves. In Wonderland. Yeah, this was definitely hitting her Top Ten list of strangest days.

That final bit caught her attention though, earning a puzzled frown. "They... how is that possible? This place can draw in people who are...?"

He nods, still smiling. He has relaxed considerably, even with the slight sixth sense telling him she isn't harmless. But he tells that sixth sense to take a hike. It's been bugging him non-stop since he arrived in Wonderland, and now it's just giving him a headache.

"You could say it's a hobby. Like I said, I know some hunters, so I've learned a bit." It's not entirely a lie. Actually, it's all true. He does know some hunters and he has learned a bit. Just not entirely from the hunters as he just implied. "A bite, or a really deep scratch. But it has to be an Alpha. The others can't turn you. And even if you're bitten by an Alpha, you don't always turn. Sometimes your body can't handle it. Or you turn into something else entirely." He's seen that on a few occasions. "But the furry thing, they don't get completely furry. At least, not all of them. Just, some extra facial hair, glowing eyes, pointy ears, and sharp teeth and claws." But he stammers when she asked if some of them were here. If she asks most anyone here, someone will eventually tell her the truth. "I-I think so. Yeah, probably." Then he's quick to add, "But they aren't dangerous. Probably. I mean, if they're here. They probably aren't. Because if they were, I'm sure the hunters would have found them by now, right?" Great save, Scott.

He looks a bit distant at first, thinking back to Erica. "This place doesn't just grab people from different universes, it can pull you from a different time in the same universe. Most of us--my friends, we're all from different points in time. There's a girl here, she's... well, she was killed by some bad Alphas when I'm from. But she doesn't know it, because she's from before it happened."

"An Alpha," she echoes. Natasha knows a lot about lying. About how using the truth to your advantage is much more convincing than trying to make something out of nothing. And fully truth or not, what he tells her is fascinating. "There are ranks to being a werewolf. An Alpha would be... what, a pack leader? Similar to regular wolves? What are you if you aren't an Alpha? And what makes you an Alpha? Luck, or is there something else to it?"

She doesn't miss his stammered reply and that gives him away more than anything else, although she doesn't let on. Which means yes, there are werewolves here and he knows them, but if they're friends and there are hunters, she doesn't blame him for trying to keep things quiet. Besides, if - as he said - the ones here were good ones, it would be easier to not draw attention to themselves in comparison to some monster intent on... doing whatever werewolves were supposed to like to do. Honestly, she wasn't actually sure what that was, because at best she had Clint's taste in horror movies to go off of at this point. And Michael J. Fox, but really who would take that seriously?

"Wait, so... even though she's dead back home, she's alive here. Because she... hasn't died yet." Werewolf talk aside, that information stops her dead in her tracks with the possibilities - both good and bad - her thoughts churning with how that was even possible and what it could mean. "What a mess."

Scott nods. "Yeah, Alphas are kinda the pack leaders. They protect the rest of the pack and even gain power from their pack. They also have some control over their specific pack and have a deeper connection with them than they could normally. If one of their pack howls for them, they'll hear it. If one of their pack misbehaves, they can kinda roar them into submission. It's... trippy."

"Under Alphas, there are Betas. They're pretty much the rest of the pack. A stray werewolf without a pack is called an Omega. They're the weakest and most vulnerable, by most standards. Usually, a werewolf pretty much needs a pack to survive. So yeah, a lot of the social structure is like regular wolves if you think about it." Really, he hadn't found anyone this interested in werewolves before, and not in the 'kill them all' kinda way. It's much better than trying to learn it from some terrible and totally unrealistic 80's movie. Beavers, really?

"You're telling me." He laughed lightly. "Man, it's really weird. But it's kinda nice too. I mean, there's another guy here from my time who died." He won't out him by name, but he wanted to stress just how bipolar this place was. "He killed a bunch of people back home by controlling someone else to do his dirty work. But don't worry! We're keeping an eye on him. And I really don't think he'll do it here. It was all some kind of revenge."

He shifted and looked off to the side for a moment, feeling suddenly very awkward. "I'm babbling aren't I?"

She smiles when he pauses, not missing his sudden discomfort, and his question gets a soft laugh from her as she shakes her head. "Maybe a little, but don't stop on my account. This is... fascinating. It sounds like something out of a book or a movie, but here you are telling me it's real. Or that at least somewhere it's real. I've run into some pretty strange things and people in my time, but I can't say any of them ever involved werewolves. Not that I know of, anyway, but I think something like that would be hard to hide after a while."

Her smile eased his nerves again, bringing back an unsure smile to his own lips. But he totally understood what she meant by that.

"About a year or so ago, I would have said the same thing. It's like something out of a book, but it kinda opens your eyes a bit when you're thrown into the middle of a supernatural mess and didn't have a clue any of it even existed. Feels like you've been lied to your whole life. That there are fairytales and they kinda suck." He tried to lighten the mood back up.

"Oh yeah? What kind've strange things have you seen?" He's having fun talking to her, and that's actually a bit of a relief. There aren't many here he can talk to so easily that he didn't already know before he got here. And honestly, learning about other people's worlds was pretty fun.

She can sympathize with that feeling, if not in exactly the same way. The events of the past week are all too fresh and raw still. She gives him a sympathetic smile, letting herself slouch sideways against the counter, purposefully relaxed as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Although not exactly with the fairy tales. We had Norse gods show up out of nowhere. Found out they were aliens. Or... well. It's complicated. But then one of them led more aliens in and attacked Manhattan and it's just all been downhill from there."

As if a guy in a flying metal suit hadn't been a handful enough.

Scott gawks for a moment, it seems to put his little world completely to shame. Yeah, they had werewolves and lizerd-people, and apparently kitsunes, but their little incidents didn't seem that big. Attacking Manhattan, though? That sounded like a pretty big deal to the little wolf.

"That... sounds a lot more insane than werewolves and stuff. Wow. That kinda really sucks." If he had a tail, it would be wagging, however. Because the excited teenager in him just has to ask, "Did you have to fight them off? Like, a civilian team of ordinary people fending off an invasion, or did the military or something step in?"

He can just imagine people banding together and forming an elite team of kick-ass people to chase those aliens back to their home world, or whatever. Maybe it went the Independence Day route? As if he hadn't heard that speech enough times already in his short life.

"Technically, I am sort of military," she finally supplies, giving him an amused smile at his eager fascination with what she'd told him. It's not like she could blame him. She knew how excited Clint had been the first time he'd heard there were possible aliens to investigate. Even if that had turned out badly.

"I was part of the team sent in to handle the problem, yes. Although all of us had some experience with fighting, we weren't exactly ordinary civilians."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] Ready or Not...

no subject

that journal name though XD

I thought it clever! XD

no subject

(Just a little btw; from his canonpoint, he has no anchor. 8D)

(poor puppy) :(

(Never fear! He's coping rather well!)

(Good! He's very resilient now) XD

(He is! XD)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject