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| − | <td valign="top">[[Image:MoA | + | <td valign="top">[[Image:MoA Darcy.png|left]]'''Moment of Awesome - [[Darcy Lewis]]:''' |
| − | '' | + | ''Finding herself being stalked after her [[Dial My Number|mutant status is exposed]], Darcy gets in touch with a friend of [[Jane Foster]] and gets an offer of sanctuary.'' |
| + | "I haven't left my apartment in a few days, if that says anything about the threat I'm feeling. I quit listening to voicemail even before that, my unlocked twitter account is a complete loss, and my e-mail is a cesspit. It wasn't that bad at first, a few capslocked notes about how mutants are going to hell and similar, although the volume's steadily increased. That's why I didn't contact you immediately after talking to Jane. But then... late last night? I got an e-mail that had direct violence threats and snapshots of me going through my day. A few creepy text messages matched up with that e-mail and a few others. Photoshops of my mutilated corpse, standard high-level harassment." Her voice got progressively detached as she recited what had been going on since the article came out. "People have been harassing my roommates to a lesser extent, and then I got an e-mail with pictures of my youngest cousin at school, and that's when I sucked it up and called you." | ||
| − | " | + | "Wow, okay," Clint said, straightening up out of the semi-slouch he'd settled into. "So, what we're gonna do. You're gonna give me your GPS coordinates. I'm gonna talk to my tech guy and my transport and we'll be there in, like, I dunno. An hour or two, tops. Use that time to pack. That level of stalker behavior and the implicit threat to your family members is kind of farther than I thought it'd go, even with them doxxing you." |
| − | + | She looked up her GPS coordinates and rattled them off, then glanced around her room trying to figure out how she'd manage to pack it all in just a few hours. "Luggage. Are we talking things that aren't easily replaced only, or the bulk of my things, or what? How on earth are you getting here so fast?" | |
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| + | Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Clint frowned and said, "Definitely things that aren't easily replaceable. If you have the kind of luggage that'll allow you to pack up your other stuff, go for it. If not, just lock your room or whatever and we can go back to get the rest of it when you're not actively being threatened. Also, you'll find out how I'm getting there when I get there. Call your family and let them know what's going on. And that you'll be getting a new number that you'll give them once you've got it. Don't wanna panic them, right? But also warn them that somebody's watching them - or at least your littlest cousin." | ||
| + | "Okay, I can do all of that. I really do appreciate all of your help, Clint. I'll bake you something if I can once you get me to wherever I'm going in thanks. Just tell me what you want." Darcy smiled for the first time in a few days, and got up to start packing. | ||
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Latest revision as of 13:05, 4 April 2016
 Finding herself being stalked after her mutant status is exposed, Darcy gets in touch with a friend of Jane Foster and gets an offer of sanctuary. "I haven't left my apartment in a few days, if that says anything about the threat I'm feeling. I quit listening to voicemail even before that, my unlocked twitter account is a complete loss, and my e-mail is a cesspit. It wasn't that bad at first, a few capslocked notes about how mutants are going to hell and similar, although the volume's steadily increased. That's why I didn't contact you immediately after talking to Jane. But then... late last night? I got an e-mail that had direct violence threats and snapshots of me going through my day. A few creepy text messages matched up with that e-mail and a few others. Photoshops of my mutilated corpse, standard high-level harassment." Her voice got progressively detached as she recited what had been going on since the article came out. "People have been harassing my roommates to a lesser extent, and then I got an e-mail with pictures of my youngest cousin at school, and that's when I sucked it up and called you." "Wow, okay," Clint said, straightening up out of the semi-slouch he'd settled into. "So, what we're gonna do. You're gonna give me your GPS coordinates. I'm gonna talk to my tech guy and my transport and we'll be there in, like, I dunno. An hour or two, tops. Use that time to pack. That level of stalker behavior and the implicit threat to your family members is kind of farther than I thought it'd go, even with them doxxing you." She looked up her GPS coordinates and rattled them off, then glanced around her room trying to figure out how she'd manage to pack it all in just a few hours. "Luggage. Are we talking things that aren't easily replaced only, or the bulk of my things, or what? How on earth are you getting here so fast?" Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Clint frowned and said, "Definitely things that aren't easily replaceable. If you have the kind of luggage that'll allow you to pack up your other stuff, go for it. If not, just lock your room or whatever and we can go back to get the rest of it when you're not actively being threatened. Also, you'll find out how I'm getting there when I get there. Call your family and let them know what's going on. And that you'll be getting a new number that you'll give them once you've got it. Don't wanna panic them, right? But also warn them that somebody's watching them - or at least your littlest cousin." "Okay, I can do all of that. I really do appreciate all of your help, Clint. I'll bake you something if I can once you get me to wherever I'm going in thanks. Just tell me what you want." Darcy smiled for the first time in a few days, and got up to start packing. |
