[ 001 : Audio -> Video ]

[myresponsibility]

[Peter's grabbing his actual communicator after trying to call Gwen at least six times and discovering that nope, his smart phone doesn't have a connection down here. In this. Wherever he is.

There's a long moment where he wonders if he's been snagged by someone - not the cops, definitely not the cops, but maybe Dr. Connors or Oscorp or someone, when he'd been walking through the sewer-

He clicks on the audio, holding it like a phone as he starts moving away from the pod, starting to explore a little more, still in the costume.]

Gwen? Are you-

[The audio cuts abruptly for several minutes, because things are starting to fall into place and either this is a really, really weird dream, or he got yanked out of the sewers of New York City by aliens. And now he's stuck on some ship in a strange... somewhere. He can't feel the ship moving, really, there's no hum under his feet from an active engine or something.

The next part is a video feed, and Peter's changed out of the costume by now. He might not be great at keeping the mask on sometimes, but he figures it's better to try and keep the secret for now. He looks a little roughed up. There's scrapes and bruises on his face - over his left eyebrow, his jaw, his cheek, the bridge of his nose - and there's sort of a resigned-but-desperate edge to the way he addresses the camera, because seriously, he really can't be here right now.]

So, uh, I have no idea what's going on, but I really need to get home, like, now. So if someone could point me in the direction of whoever brought me here, I'd really, really appreciate it.

001 | Audio (Private) ◑ W010 - Wednesday Evening

[golden_retriever]

[ PRIVATE TO SHEPARD ]

It's me, Eliot. I'm back from the trade trip.

What the hell happened here?

[video]

[knightoflight]

[Wing is standing outside the hospital--obviously, because he's far too big to fit inside. He has several long black chars on his white armor, and a few dents where he's taken rounds.  ]

[The biggest injury, though, is to his honor. He was trying to protect the hospital, but the Authorities...did not see to care.]

[He's standing by one of the low, ramshackle buildings when he speaks.]

I owe...everyone...an apology. I was trying to help. I thought I could minimize the damage, and protect the Hospital.

[He cycles a vent of air, like a sigh. He doesn't need to say this next part, but he does. He needs to admit it.]

I was wrong.  This?  [He gestures toward the crumbling walls, the jagged glass still hanging in rickety window frames,] is my fault.

I would like the opportunity to make up for it.

[It's up to them, now, if they'll have him.]