Heading Home With a Lot On Her Mind
Nov 11, 2012 4:45:08 GMT -5
Post by Queen Dopplepopplus on Nov 11, 2012 4:45:08 GMT -5
((Continues through and a day after the 7th page of this thread.))
"Now boarding flight 716 bound for New York City at gate 14."
Shit Jess looked at her watch, grabbing the coffee from the barista quickly and throwing down a large bill that more than covered it, and ran off toward the gate.
Jess had spent the better time of her last days in London completely cut off from the world. She had barricaded herself in the apartment she now kept to save herself the trouble of finding a hotel near the museum and attempted to ignore the world. She knew the pills weren't working, but she took them anyway and attempted to drink herself to sleep. But it didn't work, instead, she spent those hours drunk, angry and unable to sit still (an unfortunate side effect of the medicine.) Happily she knew if she stayed awake, she'd at least be aware if something happened in her mind, which gave her an advantage. Unhappily she knew it didn't even matter.
"Boarding pass please" the stewardess's voice was just a bit too cheery which, given the fact that she was horribly hung over, only managed to receive a sneer from Jess. She handed her the pass and snatched it back as she finished scanning it.
She took comfort in the fact that she had enough sense to lock the scepter away in a crate, along with the other artifacts from the dig, far from her person. So for now she felt, at least partially, in control again. But that comfort was disturbed with the knowledge that she'd be in possession of it once again.
She'd tried desperately to convince the uppers that the artifacts were worth nothing, that a exhibit would only waste their time and her's, but they weren't buying it. She may have found them Excalibur (which had subsequently gone missing during her leave in Paris) helping to solidify some truth in the Arthurian legend and she may have been the resident expert on that exact same thing, but it wasn't enough for them to believe her lie.
"Dammit" she grumbled, pushing her bag in to the overhead, having some issues fitting it between some brat's hello kitty backpack and a dufflebag that just managed to make it passed the size chart. She pulled out her laptop and plugged her headphones in as she waited for all of the pre-flight ceremonies to start.
Her bosses had, in the time that she had come in to the time that she left the day the artifacts arrived, managed to secure an exhibit space in New York City, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And of course, even through her protests, assigned her to head the detail. They reminded her that it was one of her area's of expertise, to which she reminded them, that they should then believe her when she says the artifacts are a waste, to which they retorted with laughter and asked her why she was so against it.
She couldn't answer them, she couldn't tell these high waist-ed men that the odd gold scepter she'd been seen running down the hall and hiding? Was some sort of bad magic that had somehow infected the artifacts. Because if she did, they most definitely would have laughed, congratulated her on a well played prank and sent her on her way.
As the stewardess spoke Jess attempted to figure out a way to keep the scepter from the exhibit, and herself, and attempt to tell Tony what she knew was inevitable.
"Now boarding flight 716 bound for New York City at gate 14."
Shit Jess looked at her watch, grabbing the coffee from the barista quickly and throwing down a large bill that more than covered it, and ran off toward the gate.
Jess had spent the better time of her last days in London completely cut off from the world. She had barricaded herself in the apartment she now kept to save herself the trouble of finding a hotel near the museum and attempted to ignore the world. She knew the pills weren't working, but she took them anyway and attempted to drink herself to sleep. But it didn't work, instead, she spent those hours drunk, angry and unable to sit still (an unfortunate side effect of the medicine.) Happily she knew if she stayed awake, she'd at least be aware if something happened in her mind, which gave her an advantage. Unhappily she knew it didn't even matter.
"Boarding pass please" the stewardess's voice was just a bit too cheery which, given the fact that she was horribly hung over, only managed to receive a sneer from Jess. She handed her the pass and snatched it back as she finished scanning it.
She took comfort in the fact that she had enough sense to lock the scepter away in a crate, along with the other artifacts from the dig, far from her person. So for now she felt, at least partially, in control again. But that comfort was disturbed with the knowledge that she'd be in possession of it once again.
She'd tried desperately to convince the uppers that the artifacts were worth nothing, that a exhibit would only waste their time and her's, but they weren't buying it. She may have found them Excalibur (which had subsequently gone missing during her leave in Paris) helping to solidify some truth in the Arthurian legend and she may have been the resident expert on that exact same thing, but it wasn't enough for them to believe her lie.
"Dammit" she grumbled, pushing her bag in to the overhead, having some issues fitting it between some brat's hello kitty backpack and a dufflebag that just managed to make it passed the size chart. She pulled out her laptop and plugged her headphones in as she waited for all of the pre-flight ceremonies to start.
Her bosses had, in the time that she had come in to the time that she left the day the artifacts arrived, managed to secure an exhibit space in New York City, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And of course, even through her protests, assigned her to head the detail. They reminded her that it was one of her area's of expertise, to which she reminded them, that they should then believe her when she says the artifacts are a waste, to which they retorted with laughter and asked her why she was so against it.
She couldn't answer them, she couldn't tell these high waist-ed men that the odd gold scepter she'd been seen running down the hall and hiding? Was some sort of bad magic that had somehow infected the artifacts. Because if she did, they most definitely would have laughed, congratulated her on a well played prank and sent her on her way.
As the stewardess spoke Jess attempted to figure out a way to keep the scepter from the exhibit, and herself, and attempt to tell Tony what she knew was inevitable.