12269/In Search of the Socks

In Search of the Socks
Date of Scene:	08 August 2022
Location:	Laundromat at the End of the Universe
Synopsis:	A group goes down the dryer hole after the missing socks. Wonderland it isn't.
Cast of Characters:	Mary Jane Watson, Michael Hannigan, Phoebe Beacon, Hope Summers

---

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Oh, laundry day. A most hated thing. HOurs spent feeding things into machines, feeding machines quarters, waiting around, folding, and all those things that had to be done. A frustrating, distracting time. And all that dullness at the end. Where one folded clothes, sorted.. And there was always something missing.
    How does one get so many singles? How often does one pair up things and find that they're not even close to matching pairs?
    On this day, in this laundromat, various individuals folding, sorting, and feeling frustration would have something boil over.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Let it be known that Mike did not zone out while walking or anything of that nature to end up here. No! It is a fully concious decision that has the Goodwill wearing rockstar in this laundromat. This time. So what mystical sense draws him here?

Actually none. It's a laundromat. And the washing machines at City Spire have apparently decided to go on strike at the same time. Sure Mike could have waited for the machines to be repaired but- it's been days and clean clothes are important. So here Mike doing laundry. And he's in the process of matching socks. But something is amiss.

He glances down at the stray. "...The fuck?"'

Mike moves over to the machine he fetched his clothes out of, glancing in to find nothing there. "Well doesn't this suck..."

What is it with socks missing their partners after a load of laundry? The world may never know.

If this was Wonderland he could just get someone to reply back by just speaking in rhyme. From his observations it seems like they're compelled to do that. But unfortunately socks are not Wonderlandians.

Still, buying new socks stank. Those aren't things you typically get second hand which makes them some of the more expensive things to purchase clothes wise.

He looks back in the machine, hoping he just missed it the first time. But confirming what he saw first to still be true, he shakes his head.

"I think it would really rock," Mike mutters, "If I knew what happened to my sock."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Laundromats. Laundromats are a place of danger, of distinct loneliness, and why the HECK doesn't the coke machine take credit cards, that is a ripoff, what the heck.

    Phoebe disliked having others do her laundry; she was too used to doing her own, so her 'work clothes' that don't require a finer and more technological hand are done by her. She typically will rotate through different places -- like a load of wash -- on account that there's only so many times you can be working bloodstains out of your clothing before people start taking notice.

    So she was wearing a pale orange bandana over her short-cropped hair, an athletic sleeve that hid her burned-in symbols on her left arm, a pair of strap sandals and, laying on top of some blankets was her red-and-white hound, who was calmly listening to the relaxing sounds of Phoebe silently seething at the coke machine that refused to take her dollar. It was a perfectly good dollar!

    And then she hears a familiarish voice. She pauses, and tilts her head as the rhyming has a distinct quality to it, and she physically winces.

    Oh, this should be interesting.

    Idu, meanwhile, has managed to wiggle his head under a cup of a bra decorated with rainbow D20 dice and is now wearing it as a hat, curly tail wagging.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Yup, Mike's definitely lost it. Over as he's finding to his confirmation of consternation that he's going to need to buy more socks. How many singles does he have? How many does everyone here have? It's a pain they all knows.
    The coke machine has thwarted Phoebe, and she shall get her revenge at a later date, no doubt.
    But it's over at that moment as Michael goes to make his commentary in rhyme and phrase that there's a surge of power in the air. Static cling. Hair going frizzy. Clothes starting to stick to one another. Over from the dryer inw hich Michael had been taking his things out of..
    BRZAPPT.
    There would be a fizzle of energy as peering through the other end would be a rift in reality. A hole in time and space, a..

    Sock hanging a few inches in. ONE THAT MATCHED.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Considering Mike just spoke to the dryer like it was going to tell him the whereabouts of his missing sock, he's lost it in more ways than one. He grumbles a little as he feels a few hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But what was he expecting? His head's in a dryer. Static central.

But there's a glimmer of hope. "There you are-" He starts to reach a hand in to grab at it. But just as he grasps the fabric, something occurs to him.

It wasn't there the last two times...

And that does not look like part of the machine.

"F-"

BANG!

BANG!!

BANG!!

BANG!!

BANG!

Mike's discovery is not kept secret for long as the rocker slams into the inside of the dryer. A hand reaches out, grasping at the edge of the door but it's a lost cause. The fingers start slipping and soon the last glimpse of him is his still shoed feet disappearing into the opening.

Damn he's flexible.

Before anyone can question if the man is still alive, he gives an assurance of still living.

"SHIIIIIIiiii..."

The voice grows distant.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe pauses as Michael reaches into the dryer. She can feel that odd tingle, and she tilts her head a moment, leaning forward as she looks to the red and white canine, whose ears swivel forwards, and Phoebe pulls up an innoculus little app on her phone that sends out an alert that there is Something Up to the Outsiders. She tilts her head, and then hits the app again as Mike disappears into the dryer itself!

    She grimmaces, and she leaps, making a dive for Mike's hand before he disappears forever!

    And then, giving a sharp whistle to Idu, grabbing at her shoulder bag, she tries to follow Mike, with Idu in tow.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The two go to jump through the air. They're sucked into a deep,s piraling vortex! That's sucking them down.. Down.. Deep. The lights were twirling faster and faster, rapidly shifting colors. They pass by numerous floating socks, undergarments, ballpoint pen caps, pocket lint..
    There's a WHOORMPHS as they're spat out over at the other end of a portal, landing over on a massive pile of clothes. Nearby them are baskets filled with clothes hangars, silverware, car keys.. And to-do lists.
    Random piles of junk went as far as the eye could see, portals flashing overhead that would have more things dropping from them.
    It was like a hoarder's heaven.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Sometimes the world just works out in your favor, the day is pretty and the clouds just happen to be right between you and the sun, giving you a blue sky and the heat of the sun isn't constantly pounding down on your pale pale shoulders. The music playlist is simply perfect, each song is better and more perfectly attuned to the atmosphere than the last as your day evolves.

    Some days you happen to be walking past a specific laudromat at the absolute worst time and you stumble into a parked car, singing your leg against the metal as you're surprised by the comm message sent out to the team that someone is in trouble.

    Hope looks up from her phone, and frowns while turning to look inside and she sees what she could swear is her team mate being sucked into a dryer and not having a good time with that.

    "****." Hope whispers to herself, stuffing her phone into the back pocket of her shorts and tossing the cheap dollar store sunglasses off her face and to the side of the laundromat with reckless abandon as she charges forwards in checkard vans towards Phoebe and whoever she's trying to hold onto. "PHEEB!" She shouts as she slams into the dryer just a moment too late.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike lays sprawled out, frozen in a jumping jack position. Pale eyes look blankly to the scenery, open wide. It is quite fortunate that they landed on the laundry as opposed to landing on the mountain of blue LEGOs a few piles over.

"I'm not using this laundromat again." He decides. Quite certain of that fact at least.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe replies to Hope with "!!!" in a silent panic as she also disappears down the tube, sucked into the vortex as she reaches out to grab a hold of Idu's collar, quite intent on not losing HIM in the process of tumbling through the swirling between realities, until she comes out the other side, blinking in the sudden brightness as she turns and lands in a crouch -- and then has to dive for Idu, who is yelping and yodeling on htis way down!

    So she's face-down in at least *clean* laundry, because it's someone's Hawaiian print boxer shorts.

    Could be worse, she decides.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The trio are end up in a pathway, a bizarrely laid out maze of things that would be like Ikea.. If an Ikea were laid out like something MS Escher would go. Piles and piles of things. Up in the sky a sign could be seen flickering which read 'BUREAU OF LOST' with a small gremlin'ish thing hanging off it, letting out skrees.
    In the air, more portals would flicker, deposit things, and then vanish.
    Tumbling towards Phoebe would be a set of stock certificates... Dated 1929 in faded paper.

Hope Summers has posed:
    A late commer tumbles through the air only to hit on the ground next to Mike and Phoebe with a thud and a very loud groan. "What. The. ****?" Hope asks as she struggles against the mountain of laundry the likes only Good Will employees have maybe seen. She gets her footing quickly though, and frowns towards the other two.

    "You both okay?" She asks, reaching out towards Phoebe, but also making sure to give Mike a glance, ensure he's at least not bleeding or anything.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike grumbles as he starts to push himself up. Turning his head, he notes the missing sock still in his hand. Giving a slight smile, he tucks it into his pocket. One must take their victories where they can get them. That business aside, he glances around, and then spots Phoebe. "Ah. Hey there."

Hearing the sounds of someone approaching, Mike glances up and proceeds to roll to the side, vacating the landing spot for the incoming Hope. The slope of the mount causes for him to tumble a bit further than he wanted, a random hand grabbing on to a belt stopping his roll.

A belt.

WHO puts a belt in the wash?

He looks to the newcomer, giving a slight look of recognition. "Oh. Hey." It's been awhile so the name is lo- "Hi Hope."

Found it.

"So, Anyone have an idea where we landed?" He wonders aloud, looking to the flashing portals above and towards the others.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Idu gives a yowl of complaint, sniffing at the stock certificates a moment, before turning to face Hope as Phoebe takes stock in herself. Just her side bag, a couple of beeswax candles, a borrowed BIC lighter, a bunch of sharpies in various colors stuck in a rubber band with her own smokes, and she breathes out as she checks over a couple of other reagents before looking over to Hope, and giving a thumbs up to Hope before she looks over to Michael, and then she looks up at the sign of their location in the sky. Her head tilts a moment. She narrows her eyes, and purses her lips -- and reaches down to pick up the stock certificates to take a look at them. Hey, never know. Could be useful.

    When Mike asks where they've landed, she mutely points up at the sign hanging in the sky. Very helpful!

    She motions for the belt that Michael's picked up.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
There are legends amongst the magic community of pocket dimensions where things vanish between the realms. Deritus from however many hundred realities have congealed together. Purposefully or out of randomness.
    There's a bin that's full of that one -last- piece from a jigsaw puzzle. Every jigsaw puzzle.
    Another with small screws that hold unimportant items together. It's like a henhouse of every single thing which has driven someone OCD insane.
    Hope goes past a bin which if one were to squint at it could be read as '-- Crisis Continuity' with variuos notes on paper and printouts.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Escaped from the avelanch de launder and making sure she finds her feet on stable ground, Hope frowns as she takes stock as well of their location, following Phoebe's motions and realizing that this is exactly what she thought it was.

    ******* Insane.

    The time traveller isn't exactly unaware of bizarre things that humans can do, but this is a new one.

    Starting to put their situation together, and get a lay of the land, Hope spies the continuity curiosity and pulls out a single sheet of paper to read the words across it. "Hey, uh... Mike, was it? Throw me a flanel top if you see one." She says, feeling awfully exposed with her short cut off jean shorts and white camisole beneath a black tank top. The pistol on her hip blaringly obvious, but she hasn't drawn it, yet, but her fingers are getting twitchy about it.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
To Phoebe's gesture, Mike tilts his head back up, focusing on that particular sign. "Oh."

Not entirely helpful but there's a name at least.

The added movement from Phoebe draws his attention back to her and then to the indicated item. "Yeah. Sure." He shifts back to his feet, walking over to hand Phoebe the belt. Hearing Hope's request he glances over to her, then to the massive pile of laundry, "Does it have to be flannel? "

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe takes the belt, and she loops it through the D-ring on Idu's collar to form a leash.

    Idu does not look thrilled about the leash, his ears draw back and he gives a huff.

    Phoebe, meanwhile, stretches her fingers and also looks around for a flannel that would be at least big enough to fit Hope, before she brings her hand up to her temple, and she presses her fingers against her head a moment, and then 'broadcasts':

    <Stay together. I don't think any of us want to become part of the scenery. Bureau of Lost... at least it's not Land of the Lost. Can you imagine dinosaurs roaming around here?> she questions, trying to sound at least a little upbeat mentally.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
As Hope goes to join the two, for some reason there's an enormous bin of shoulderpads and epathulets. It's a weird, out of nowhere sort of thing to have in such numbers. But likely nothing of any sort of import in the greater scheme of things beyond vastly oversized shoulder pads.
    Going past the trio would be a running goblin-like creature wearing flannel with a cheap semi-plastic 'Santa Hat' on it tugging along a cart full of weaponized lego shrapnel.
    They are in the Bureau of Lost Things. It's strange. Chaotic. And almost breathtaking in the infinite void showcasing just how many /things/ humanity lost track of.

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Just browsing, getting the lay of the land, so to speak, but ... Yeah, I'm not going far. Someone's gotta keep you two squishies from getting eaten by the raptors." Hope says, still holding the paper and walking back towards Mike and Phoebe.

    Looking around, and really taking the place, Hope fights back the urge to retch, thankfully, she's been through not too dissimilar stuff with Cable and her stomach only partially turns, and with a bit of breathing exercices, she's clear.

    "Was that a morlock with ... a sanaklaue hat?" Hope asks, frowning and twisting before looking back, "I mean, I'd like something versatile in case it gets cold a nigh--- Does this place have night and day?" She asks, expecting for some reason one of the two to have a guess?

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"You could just throw on an extra layer when it gets cold. Plenty of clothes available to do that." Mike tilts his head as he hears a voice that he doesn't recognize playing in his head. Brows lifting, he glances around before seeing Phoebe doing the fingers to the temple motion.

"Yeah. No Scooby Dooing this shit." He agrees. The musician glances back up to the waterfalls of lost stuff. "So, think we could just fly up to where we came out from?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <The portal closed, and I don't trust mine to be strong enough to get us out of here.> Phoebe states, and she looks down to the canine who's leashed to her side.

    <No.> she replies, and the canine's ears flick back as he whines.

    She taps her free hand against her side a moment, <Well. This is the place where all the lost things go. There's tons of lost magical stuff. Let's see if we can try to find something that might work.> she considers.

    And mentally hums the theme to Gilligan's Island. You're welcome.

    <HEY UNIVERSE can you gimmie one and let me find a pile of magical bullshittery that would make my old man cry if I got a hold of it?>

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Already preparing for a worst case survival drop in an abandoned realm. Going past them now on another cart are trays and trays of worn out expiration dates on warranties. Apparently the stories of everything breaking on the 91st day of the 90 day product guarantee /were/ true.
    Over at the ankle of Michael, the small little goblin'y thing goes to look up at him and gives him a poke while moving to hold out a card over at him.
    It is a grocery list. From roughly three years ago. That had someone's birthday present on it that he may have been very well guilt tripped over, perhaps.
    Without missing a beat as Phoebe goes to make her speech the small gremlin-like thing goes over, then comes back with a EULA form.

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Well I can't fly, so that leaves..." Hope explains before she frowns and crosses her arms, opting to be upset at Mike, but she does take the step or two over to the clothes pile and starts to rummage through it, and low and behold, she finds an appalling red and blue flanel shirt. Throwing it on over her shoulders and refusing to button it up, she starts to roll up the way too long sleeves until her hands are exposed. "What? Yes there's a large pile of clothes here now, but there may not be another one once we start moving." Hope explains.

    Reaching to her holster she pulls out her pistol and pulls the slide back, the sound of the bullet being chambered somewhat obvious and then the slide hitting home with a calmness she puts the gun back into the holster and looks to Mike and Phoebe once again.

    Quickly the gun is back in her hand and she's pointing it near Mike's feet. "Mike. Careful. M-maybe ask if it can find us what Pheebs is looking for?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"How did a portal open up in a dryer anyways?"

rHearing Hope check her gun, Mike looks over to her, then to Phoebe, then the dog. Oh God. Is she going to- And then the gun's pointing towards him.

The musician starts to look mildly offended.

What did HE do?

Mike jerks his foot back in reaction as he feels his ankle being poked. Glancing down, he blinks at the card being held up to him. He reaches down to take the offered card. Skimming over the contents, his lips part in sigh, "A- so that's where it went."

Fiddling around with the card he looks to the scenery. Eyes set upon a mountain of books. "Maybe we got some magic books over there?"

Hope's suggestion finally registers, leading him to look to the Goblin, "Hey. Uh, how do we get back where we came from?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe accepts the form from the gremlin.

    And she gives a bright grin, to it, her eyes sparkling a moment before she actually begins to laugh -- though silently. She knows better than to sign *anything* just handed to her, and she begins to read through it while walking.

    Idu sniffs at the gremlin, and steps forward a moment, ears coming to attention, tail wagging before he drops down -- nearly toppling Phoebe in the process! -- muzzle between his paws as Phoebe sits down, and purses her lips at the gremlin.

    <I s'pose proper introductions are in order as well. I'm Phoebe. A pleasure to meet you.> she introduces herself in earnest to Michael and to the gremlin in question as she sits to review the EULA more closely. <A magic book would be useful, especially if it's in a form of Latin or Coptic, Egyptian Greek, Ancient Egyptian -- I could read it. But if it requires a verbal component that'll be a bit trickier. Magic items though -- swords, spears, skulls or large jars of toenails, a particularly angry 1958 Plymouth Fury -- I could possibly use.> she considers.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The small gremlin greebles over at Michael and then goes to continue pulling it's wagon along, small lego shrapnel bits falling out of it. Watch where you walk.. The goblinw ould pause and let go of the cart, it rolling through the piles as a set of nearly full yellowed coupon books tumble over to the ground, all missing just that one final stamp needed for redemption..
    There's a strange sort of surreality to things. Missed fashion trends! Random stocks.
    A near endless pile over of AOL CD's.
    The gremlin would shrug up at Michael's question at the 'why portals in driers'. With a look best approximated as 'why not'? Because /everyone/ knew there were portals in dryers! The goblin-like thing then goes to offer over to Hope something even less sensical. Some sort of shiny holofoil collector's card of someone or other unimportant that seemed to be a hugely bulky being covered in spikes that might, perhaps, in a weirdly yet ridiculous sort of way perhaps be familiar, or amusing. And at the 'back where we came from' it would eloquently shrug it's shoulders. As far as it was concerned seemingly 'the same way you came in'.

    And then as Phoebe would make her series of quick requests, the gremlin would pause over for a moment, then going to gesture at the odd group to follow itas it goes through a maze of piles of carefully sorted things. It goes up and over to a.. Library-styled card catalogue.
    Didn't it used to be in the library of congress?

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Ooookay." Hope says as she takes the card and looks at it front and back, and is utterly perplexed by the thing. Gun lowered in her off hand as she looks at the card and frowns to Phoebe and Mike with an exaggerated shrug due to the oversized shirt she has on.

    Once the things back is turned she flicks her wrist at the end of an minimal effort toss to send the card spinning through the air rapidly and up and over the pile of laundry mount. "I mean, if either of you could fly and I dunno, send down a rope?" Hope asks, tossing out an idea.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike nods to Phoebe as she speaks. "Mike." He offers back, glancing to the gremlin as it answers questions with a series of shrugs before a general follow me gesture. As the group goes, so does Mike. But as they move along the path the glimpse of a figure, oddly frozen in time sticks out of a block of cement.

This isn't natural to say the least.

"...I think I know what happened to Mr. Hoffa." His glance drifts upwards, leaving him to blink at another figure peeking at him from behind a pile of what appears to be fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. "Oh no."

"Uh huh." The dark haired bell bottom'd man responds back before disappearing behind the pile.

Mike steps back, blinking.

This place is just getting weirder and weirder.

Hope's general response to the flying does bring his attention back to that.

"Uh. Well if we can guarantee that portal's open I could t-" He pauses, "Actually, I wonder if we could catch a dream out of here."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <.... flaffernaffy, this is from the Upper West Side Branch....> Phoebe thinks, and she looks over the card catalogue as she off-handedly asks <Whats a HOffa?> she inquires with a blink. She brushes over a pile of collected math homework in order to pull the M drawer out.

    <... did you think about trying to spell us back? I was able to sense the magic when you spoke up at the laundromat.> Phoebe recalls to Mike.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
It may not be the weirdest place that the group of Outsiders and Justice League Dark members have been to, ubt it has to be up there in being offbeat. The huge card catalogue seems almost intimidating, but well organized. There's an old, wizened man going past wearing an old postal clerk uniform while his fingers would mime pressing out things in morse code. He would glance at the group, mutter about, "Topsiders," and then wander on off.
    The small, seemingly helpful gremlin just goes to wait by the side while they poke over at the card catalogue. Michael might almost see over on the ground a VHS tape of 'Twin Peaks Final Episode' to the side in some clutter.
    The gremlin goes to hop up and on top of the near infinite card catlaogue while looking over at Michael in an amused fashion.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Spell us back..." Mike looks over to Phoebe. "What do you mean? I was just muttering about the lost sock a-"

Feeling another set of eyes on him, Mike looks over to see the gremlin smiling at him. "-and wanting to- But I wasn't asking any-."

Well, chalk up another lesson out of the way.

"OH God Dammit"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, "Uh just give me a minute to figure this out..."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The white and red hound looks up at the gremlin. He licks his lips.

    Phoebe gives a wry smile, and she looks over to Michael, her eyebrows rising up.

    <Are... you new to the whole casting thing?> she quetions, <Not that there's anything wrong with it.>

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The gremlin would look over at Michael with amusement over while it would sit on top of the card catalogue of lost things. then it would go over to scuttle along towards Phoebe to offer her something from somewhere on it's body.
    One of those Boba Fett toys that never saw distribution as the missile launcher spring was too powerful and it'd put your eye out!

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Well more I thought other stuff was needed..." Mike mutters, "I wasn't even singing in the laundromat...And I'm normally asking someone for something. Not just stating something."

Mike glances around, taking a visual stock of what they experienced. There's a glance to the sign, and various piles they've come across. A glance is given to the man who had addressed them as topsiders and then to the sandwich mountain the supposedly dead King of Rock hid behind.

No one's going to believe him.

'Alright so we've traveled the Bureau of Lost
Bewilderment and confusion was the cost.
We've seen laundry, Legos and Hoffa's Body,
Oh hey and Elvis was a sight to see.
Hid behind sandwiches unhealthily fried.
But enough's enough, we need to go topside!'

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Magic theory...> Phoebe ventures as she accepts Fett, and she gives a smile. She digs out from her side bag a couple of brightly colored sharpies, and turns them over in exchange to the Goblin fo the Fett figure.

    <Rarely translates into Magic Practice. Then again, what do I know about anything.>

    She turns, slipping the Boba Fett figure into her side bag and holds tight to Idu's makeshift leash.

    <Let's go home.>

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The exchange is made over and the gremlinc hirps brightly over at her. There's a flash right as Michael's magic kicks in. And the two are right back where they were when they had started. The laundromat. Driers humming. Clothing out.
    Michael's sock missing again.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As the group reappears right back where they were when they started, Mike pulled his head out of the drier. The ponytail had mostly given up allowing for a hairy aura to highlight the staticky nature inside the drum.

He not so gracefully falls on his ass.

A hopeful look is given to his pocket but upon reaching in his pocket to find nothing he sighs. "...Dammit. I hate sock shopping."