hellhouse | (no subject)

WHO: Carol Danvers & Klaus Hargreeves
WHAT: Arrival and meeting
WHEN: Day one, Early morning
WARNINGS: TBD - likely language

This night ain't for the faint of heart 'cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart

Her neck is stiff. That's the first conscious thought that truly hit's Carol's brain. Granted, it's followed directly by taking in everything around her from the table set up to the fact that she isn't alone. And that her current companion isn't dressed in the everyday digs that Carol always prefers. "Hey, are you all right?" She ventures the question out toward the man - the only one in the room with her - as she moves to shove her chair backward, already moving to rise to her feet.

It's that movement that draws her attention to what she's currently wearing - and the concern is quickly met head-to-head with an overwhelming annoyance. "You've got to be fucking kidding me..." There's no way in hell she's doing anything in these pink, glittery heels. The blonde kicks them off - as if their very existence offends her entire being, which it sure as hell does - at the same moment that the pre-recorded voice starts, the start of the record punctuated by the thwack of that damn heel. And Carol pauses, one bright pink sparkly and strappy heel on and the other where it landed across the room, she focuses on what is being said.

The more information the better, no matter the fact that she's in a ruffled pink and blue sparkly and multi-layed monstrosity with straps that she feels like the girls upstairs just might flop out of. Whoever picked this, whoever made this, and whoever chose this deserves to have the damn thing force-fed to them as far as Carol Danvers is concerned. What's wrong withs omething simple? Did the damn thing need four layers of ruffle, sparkles and bling all over the bodice, and the deep-v in the front? Really?

Shaking that from her mind, the frown on her face only deepens, right fist clenching and beginning to glow from emotional response alone. Never leave her ass. It's on the thinnest bit of control that she has left that Carol keeps herself from smashing the record player to smitherines.....that and the fact that looking downa t her first causes the light emitting from her other arm to catch her attention. "What the hell is this shit?" The question is rhetorical - she figures that her companion probably doesn't know what's going on any better than she does, but if her initial assumption is wrong he's not going to be very happy with his choice in person to mess with.

Because Carol Danvers is pissed for multiple reasons - and somehow the least of which is that someone stripped her out of her clothes and dressed her in something else, somehow. Someone experimented on her - put tech in her arm and after everything that happened with the Kree Carol swore not to let anything of the sort happen again, so she's not going to settle down into this quietly. She's angry. And when she's angry and backed into a corner she blasts her way out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Klaus is no stranger to waking up in strange places, or even in strange clothes, with no memory of how he got there. That is the least concerning part of this whole moment for him, honestly. His eyes are wide as he takes in his new surroundings-- what looks like a giant dinner table set for only two, and hey! He has a party guest here with him. That's probably good. Not being alone when he wakes up in weird places usually does him some good. "Uhhh...yeah!" he nods, after a quick assessment of himself for injuries. "Yeah, I'm fine." A beat passes and he frowns, "I think?" He's kind of a bad judge of these things sometimes, really.

He finally looks up and sees the gorgeous dress his dinner party partner is decked out in and his eyes light up. His jaw drops as she flings a heel across the room. "Ohmygod, don't break them!" He scrambles to his feet and runs over to grab the shoe, inspecting it to see if she did, in fact, break the heel on it.

He's in the middle of his inspection when the recording starts and his eyes widen owlishly. "We're trapped in Hotel California?!" That... sounds about right for his life, actually. "Did I die again?" he asks no one in particular.

"Whoa, whatcha got goin' on there, glowy lady?" He points with the shoe in his hand at the bright shiny fist clenched at her side.

He jumps a little at the sudden, sharp rhetorical question and he realizes what she's shouting about. There's a... screen embedded into his arm! "Wha-aaaat the fuck? What is this- why- what-" A vague, non-committal noise of half-panic, half-confusion bubbles up from the back of his throat.

"Think is going to have to be good enough for now considering all of this." Carol says in that natural dry tone of her's - she'd prefer to know that he's fine because she can't, even now, be the kind that doesn't feel obligated to look after the people that she's around. And he certainly qualifies as that given the fact that he's been shoved into this whole mess right alongside her.

She's going to get them both out - that's the big plan so far, even if she doesn't have a damn clue what all of this is even supposed to be.

That resolve is thrown into hold, though, at the reaction to her kicking off the shoes. He's literally hunted the toothpick piece of crap down. And things only keep getting weirder, the look on Carol's face showing just how bizarre his question is to her. "Die again - I'm not sure I want to ask, but I'm pretty certain neither one of us is dead right now." She speaks more confidently than she feels, considering she doesn't know what's going on at all, but she feels very much alive. Everything works just like it should given her being alive.

Kicking off the other shoe, the former captain shakes her hand out - choosing to bypass the question, because it's really complicated, and focus on the tech in both their arms instead. Taking a step toward her companion, she has to muster up the ability to calm her own anger and outrage down. "I can't tell you the what or the why, someone's experimenting or up to something - what I know is that I'm going to get us the hell out of here and I know people who can probably help us get rid of the ugly ass cell phones implanted smack dab in the middle of our arms." She sure hopes that she knows people who can, anyway. And she hopes that he's not abut to go into any panic.

Much as she hasn't so far, they need to keep their wits about them and keep as level-headed as possible. As for the fist he very obviously noticed.... Carol holds it up, purposefully clenching and making it glow again. "As for this, I think this is going to be how we get out assuming I don't get these ruffles caught on something."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. The afterlife doesn't look so different from the real world." he says matter-of-factly, like he's speaking from experience. "It doesn't look like it did last time, but I've got it on good authority, God doesn't like me, so it wouldn't surprise me if She sent me some creepy place." He shrugs, like nothing he said was abnormal whatsoever.

As she moves closer to him and gives her own guesses as to what's going on, it only brings a rough, stuttered kind of laugh bubbling out of his throat. "Experiments. Sure. Of course, why not?" He waves his hands around as he speaks, always animated. "Home sweet home," he says with a faux-fondness, hand pressed to his chest.

Luckily for Carol, panic is as easy and familiar as breathing for Klaus to think and react through. For all that he may be screaming on the inside, the most that shows outwardly at this point is only nervous fidgeting. "Care to elaborate?" He says, staring at her lifted, glowing hand again.

Carol's right eyebrow pops up at Klaus' comment. She's not sure what sort of hell this guy has been through, but if he's so sure that this doesn't look too different from the afterlife it seems to her that he's been through some shit. Dusting? Maybe, she's not exactly sure what those people saw or experienced. She hadn't taken the time to really ask anyone before she wound up here. Still, that eyebrow (if possible) moves even higher at the reaction to what she truly believes is going on here. "You're...certainly an odd one." It's not a bad thing and there is the slight tweak of the corner of her mouth in amusement.

Hard not to when you've got someone who literally...you have no idea what's coming from them and that's exactly how Carol'd categorize him.

If nothing else Carol is certain that she made it through the battle. And, on top of that, she knows that it'd take something truly major to send her into the after life. And she's pretty sure she'd remember anything that could have led up to that. She leaves off the talk of death, and of experiments, focusing on the actual question that he asks her and rather than bothering to explain what her fist does she points it at the Victrola before letting off a photon blast - the red mass of energy rushing through the air and causing the damn thing to explode in a mass of parts that slap and scatter across the wall. "I haven't found anything that that can't get me through yet. It should work pretty well on a wall or a locked door too." Carol says confidently.

That's her plan. That's how she expects to get them out. Punching and blasting her way out and then figuring out what the idea was here - after her fellow captive is safe - seems like a perfect plan to her.

"Aww, you're so sweet!" he says in a suddenly falsetto, those hands still clutched to his chest with those words. "I've definitely been called worse, so you know--" he spreads his hands in a big, nearly full-body shrug. "I'll take it!" And as a win, at that, because he knows exactly how much worse than 'odd' that kind of descriptor could have gotten.

He laughs a little in a delighted, nearly child-like awed kind of way as she explains. He claps his hands together and jumps up once. "Well, fire that puppy up and let's go, then, right?!"

The snort that comes out is entirely unlady-like, but it's genuine as the corners of Carol's mouth upturn ever so slightly. Well, he's one of a kind, but it turns out that that's easy for her to find amusement in, at the very least. But he seems like a guy that, though out there, is pretty easy to like. And that's something given their current situation. It'd be worse to be stuck with a major asshole. Then again, Carol doesn't put up with major assholes. "Well, now that we've got that established." Carol speaks as she moves toward the exit, rolling her eyes as the damn dress gets caught on a chair along the way.

Stopping, she can't quite help but grit her teeth as she disentangles herself and then moves to reach for the offending bits of fabric - completely intending on ripping them off. She'd rather be in a while hell of a lot less than walk around with all of this extra fabric and fluff that is going to be a massive hindrance. She's a soldier not a pageant girl. "One sec - some of this has to go first." She offers the explanation, blowing a piece of hair that's fallen into her face back.

She's more focused on ripping the thing, and what the plan will be over anything else at the moment. "Either way I figure if we find an outer wall or the front door - no matter what kind of reinforcement I should be able to get through it."