07 | Visual/Location: Pedestrian Plaza | Tied up or dressed up, she's a prisoner
The tablet turns on before things get weird, so Taxon gets a quick upshot glance at the bare midriff exposed at Gwen's hip, underneath her heavy pea coat. There's some shuffling, so it's clear she's on the move. And then all movement stops.
Gwen hears a voice, smooth and low...and barely perceptible. But it's there, like a whisper coming from somewhere in the crowded sea of strolling pedestrians, like an old, muffled record being played in another room:
"I'm thinkin' James Bond never looked this fine."
It stops her right the hell in her tracks. "Denzel?" she calls out, low, and getting no answer. Blue eyes frantically scan the crowd for his face--vampire or not. "Charles?" She can feel her heart racing in her chest and she looks around fully now, wary. Nothing. Just people milling about, shopping bags in hand, chatting and laughing and wandering, with no sign of that dark handsome face among them. She thinks maybe she's going crazy...but that's a lot of crazy, if that's the case. One hand comes to rest on the other, a movement away from removing her glove, and then--
"Ah, ah, ah...Keep your mittens on, Sparky."
This is louder, and most definitely the voice of Charles Gunn. Gwen physically turns around to survey the area, backing herself into a corner against a wall so she can get a look at the scene without being in the middle of it--the perfect place to be on her guard. And still...there's nothing. No human Gunn. No vampire Gunn. After a moment, she rips that tablet off her hip and with unsurprised frustration...sees that it's already broadcasting. Great. Well, now that the line's already open...
Still, though she regains some composure, Taxon has never before seen her so rattled. "Am I going crazy or is there...some serious Twilight Zone going on here?"
Gwen hears a voice, smooth and low...and barely perceptible. But it's there, like a whisper coming from somewhere in the crowded sea of strolling pedestrians, like an old, muffled record being played in another room:
"I'm thinkin' James Bond never looked this fine."
It stops her right the hell in her tracks. "Denzel?" she calls out, low, and getting no answer. Blue eyes frantically scan the crowd for his face--vampire or not. "Charles?" She can feel her heart racing in her chest and she looks around fully now, wary. Nothing. Just people milling about, shopping bags in hand, chatting and laughing and wandering, with no sign of that dark handsome face among them. She thinks maybe she's going crazy...but that's a lot of crazy, if that's the case. One hand comes to rest on the other, a movement away from removing her glove, and then--
"Ah, ah, ah...Keep your mittens on, Sparky."
This is louder, and most definitely the voice of Charles Gunn. Gwen physically turns around to survey the area, backing herself into a corner against a wall so she can get a look at the scene without being in the middle of it--the perfect place to be on her guard. And still...there's nothing. No human Gunn. No vampire Gunn. After a moment, she rips that tablet off her hip and with unsurprised frustration...sees that it's already broadcasting. Great. Well, now that the line's already open...
Still, though she regains some composure, Taxon has never before seen her so rattled. "Am I going crazy or is there...some serious Twilight Zone going on here?"