Envy Adams (
whenshewasnice) wrote2018-12-30 11:05 am
Entry tags:
Entering the Hegemony Compound, Ribeirao Preto, Sunday
In the end, a week in Los Angeles had turned into about a month and a half. And not by choice, apart from the first extra week or so, but rather by Portalocity fuckery because honestly, what else? Caused by 'universes shifting like they sometimes do', they'd told her. Which probably explained how she'd also ended up losing her multiversal cell service for a chunk of it, too.
The customer service reps should've been glad she'd traveled the multiverse enough to know that no amount of yelling or threats would fix anything. Although she'd still been tempted to try.
She'd been stubbornly staying in LA for most of the portal blackout, taking advantage of the opportunities that came from a shitty situation: filmed a couple of cameos for on-brand indie production companies, struck up a weird not-quite-friendship (hangout-ship?) with Winifred Hailey, worked on new songs that her new vaguely oppressive environment inspired in her... But for the last week, she'd been in Montreal. Spending Christmas with her parents had been another opportunity to seize, and so she had.
But today, today her daily habit of calling Portalocity had yielded the result she'd been wanting for over a month: the portals were back. The direct connection was yet to be established, but she'd told them she didn't care, she just wanted to go home. So she'd got all her crap together - a couple more bags' worth than when she'd left in early November - and she'd set on her way.
And now, several portal layovers later... She'd finally made it to the compound, where her first order of business was to get someone from the gate crew to help with her bags.
The second order of business was to call Peter. Ring ring, Peter.
[ooc: NFB, primarily for the guy.]
The customer service reps should've been glad she'd traveled the multiverse enough to know that no amount of yelling or threats would fix anything. Although she'd still been tempted to try.
She'd been stubbornly staying in LA for most of the portal blackout, taking advantage of the opportunities that came from a shitty situation: filmed a couple of cameos for on-brand indie production companies, struck up a weird not-quite-friendship (hangout-ship?) with Winifred Hailey, worked on new songs that her new vaguely oppressive environment inspired in her... But for the last week, she'd been in Montreal. Spending Christmas with her parents had been another opportunity to seize, and so she had.
But today, today her daily habit of calling Portalocity had yielded the result she'd been wanting for over a month: the portals were back. The direct connection was yet to be established, but she'd told them she didn't care, she just wanted to go home. So she'd got all her crap together - a couple more bags' worth than when she'd left in early November - and she'd set on her way.
And now, several portal layovers later... She'd finally made it to the compound, where her first order of business was to get someone from the gate crew to help with her bags.
The second order of business was to call Peter. Ring ring, Peter.
[ooc: NFB, primarily for the guy.]

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