There is something Jennifer will not admit to anyone: being in the main temple makes it easier not to have painful transformations. Something in the atmosphere, for all that she's been taken to a world that is not her own, feels so profoundly safe that things ease up. She can breathe.
So, it's probably no shock that she's going to take some time exploring the labyrinthine structure. There are so many strange hallways and rooms. There has to be a library or something somewhere, right? A place where she can find more information about this place or even who the people behind it are. And if she accidentally stumbles into someone's room, well, stuff happens.
THE MASQUERADE
There is something so pleasantly dreamy about coming to herself in a beautiful dress with a glass of champagne being pressed into her hand while music plays in the background. Jennifer has been drugged and abducted before, but this is weird and pleasant, like the weight of the sheer beaded sheath dress that slides and settles over a silk slip she would never have purchased. The work is too fine and lovely to shred the next time something triggers her. Even thinking about it has her going to take a sip of her champagne only to realize that her mask means that isn't an option.
Oh well. She sets the glass down regretfully, finally noticing the yellow sign on her dress. It's odd, and not very pretty. Kind of a shame given that she suspects the lovely dress won't last long, but then she notices someone else with the same symbol on their chest. "You have one, too." Her words are slightly muffled by her mask, but then so are her thoughts.
LOST CARCOSA
Getting away from the people, from the crowds, from the other Travelers drives Jennifer to the beach. It's difficult to maintain her shape and her skin with all the people and motion, and at least at the edge of this floating island, she can breathe. Until she sees it. A chill runs down her spine because she knows what dark magic looks like and that there are things even a hero avoids without some kind of backup. Her instinct to turn and run is useless. The skull has seen her, and there is so much loss in her. So much mourning.
Her footsteps are slow and staggering until she finds herself on her knees, sinking into the sand and staring at the bejeweled skull in front of her. A flare of anger turns her eyes black and green for a blink before the compulsion sweeps through her again, overwhelming everything but the loss.
"No." The word is so small she will be ashamed when she realizes there are other people on the beach who heard her speak it. She has to try to refuse to acknowledge the loss in her that is consuming everything else. She owes the skull nothing. She owes the dead so much more.
Jennifer Walters/Hulk | Marvel 616 | OTA
There is something Jennifer will not admit to anyone: being in the main temple makes it easier not to have painful transformations. Something in the atmosphere, for all that she's been taken to a world that is not her own, feels so profoundly safe that things ease up. She can breathe.
So, it's probably no shock that she's going to take some time exploring the labyrinthine structure. There are so many strange hallways and rooms. There has to be a library or something somewhere, right? A place where she can find more information about this place or even who the people behind it are. And if she accidentally stumbles into someone's room, well, stuff happens.
THE MASQUERADE
There is something so pleasantly dreamy about coming to herself in a beautiful dress with a glass of champagne being pressed into her hand while music plays in the background. Jennifer has been drugged and abducted before, but this is weird and pleasant, like the weight of the sheer beaded sheath dress that slides and settles over a silk slip she would never have purchased. The work is too fine and lovely to shred the next time something triggers her. Even thinking about it has her going to take a sip of her champagne only to realize that her mask means that isn't an option.
Oh well. She sets the glass down regretfully, finally noticing the yellow sign on her dress. It's odd, and not very pretty. Kind of a shame given that she suspects the lovely dress won't last long, but then she notices someone else with the same symbol on their chest. "You have one, too." Her words are slightly muffled by her mask, but then so are her thoughts.
LOST CARCOSA
Getting away from the people, from the crowds, from the other Travelers drives Jennifer to the beach. It's difficult to maintain her shape and her skin with all the people and motion, and at least at the edge of this floating island, she can breathe. Until she sees it. A chill runs down her spine because she knows what dark magic looks like and that there are things even a hero avoids without some kind of backup. Her instinct to turn and run is useless. The skull has seen her, and there is so much loss in her. So much mourning.
Her footsteps are slow and staggering until she finds herself on her knees, sinking into the sand and staring at the bejeweled skull in front of her. A flare of anger turns her eyes black and green for a blink before the compulsion sweeps through her again, overwhelming everything but the loss.
"No." The word is so small she will be ashamed when she realizes there are other people on the beach who heard her speak it. She has to try to refuse to acknowledge the loss in her that is consuming everything else. She owes the skull nothing. She owes the dead so much more.
WILDCARD
[Come up with your own option!]