#something is wr...oh. tags aren't broken now!

[meowloudly15]

Stranded: Day 2 - RUSSIAN SPY

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Gwen pulled off her mask and gloves and climbed down the fire escape. She jumped from the bottom level and landed lightly on the pavement below.

Where could she find food?

Gwen looked around. She appeared to be in a residential area.

PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

A young man on the other side of the road called to her, "Nice jump!"

Gwen picked a random direction and started walking quickly. It was a bad idea to do things that might attract attention.

She walked for a few blocks and saw what looked like a deli shop. A rotund Italian man stood outside of it, placing slices of turkey on a window ledge. A cat trotted over, meowing happily and loudly.

IMPENDING MORAL CRISIS

Not for the first time, Gwen cursed the presence of her moral compass. But she needed to eat something.

Gwen waited for the shop owner to go back inside, took a quick glance around to make sure that nobody was watching her (there were a couple of people on the street, but they were absorbed by their phones), and then sidled over to the windowsill. She swiped the turkey before the cat had finished sniffing at it and popped it into her mouth. The cat meowed unhappily, so she gave it a quick scratch on the head before continuing onward.

Gwen then realised how bad of an idea it probably was to eat something straight off of an unclean window ledge. She suppressed her gag reflex and swallowed.

It would tide her over for a little while, at least.

Gwen noticed the itch again, which was stronger now.

She continued to walk down the road. The itch grew more and more powerful, then started to weaken again.

Was it a homing signal? Would the sense direct her to Visions Academy?

There was only one way to find out.

Gwen turned around and kept walking until the itch regained its strength, then turned left. She crossed the street as a car honked at her. Typical Connec-... no, this was New York City. Typical New York courtesy.

She really wanted a map. But for now, at least, her spider-sense would do.

Gwen walked along the new street – it was called Park Drive – and felt the homing itch strengthen slightly.

She kept walking, following the itch as it played a nonverbal game of Hot and Cold with her. She took wrong turns, backtracked multiple times, had a brief atomic disjunction, and collided with a No Parking sign. It certainly wasn't the most efficient way to travel, and it wasn't the most fun, but at least she had something to do for the time being.

By the time Gwen had gotten about halfway through her music playlist, the homing itch was buzzing like a cell phone set to vibrate and was causing her a modicum of discomfort. She turned a corner and saw a large concrete building emblazoned with the words "VISIONS ACADEMY". On the street nearby stood a stocky police officer, sighing as he peeled a sticker off of a mailbox.

VISION OF BROOKLYN

Was school in session today?

Gwen took out her phone and looked at the date and time. It was now 11:30 on October 1st, a Monday, so…

Wait. October 1st?

That was almost a week before the dimensional travel incident happened!

Right?

Did the calendar work differently in this dimension?

How had her phone reset to this different date and time system?

Gwen had a lot more questions, but her stream of thoughts was interrupted by the policeman walking over to her, saying, "Hey, kid!"

She nearly fled. She thought the cop was about to arrest her. She assumed he recognised her. But she didn't move.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Gwen sighed in relief, then immediately realised that she needed to come up with an excuse. "Yes! Doctor! The appointment thing! But it's over now, so I'm going back. Sir."

The man nodded, then turned and walked away. "Have a good day, kid."

"Sure thing, sir!" Gwen gave the officer a quick salute before jogging over to the school.

She looked behind her to see if the cop was still watching her. He was.

Well, it looked like she had to go inside.

Should she be here?

YA-YUP

Gwen swung open the door and walked into the school.

The first thing she was struck by was how polished and modern everything looked. She was also struck by the lack of students in the halls. Maybe it was class time.

Where should she go?

RUSSIAN SPY

What?

A large man dressed in a grey three-piece suit walked over to Gwen. "What are you doing outside of class?" he asked.

"I, uh, I…" Gwen stammered, at a loss for words.

Was this guy some type of spy?

The man squinted. "I know the face of every student in this school, but I don't recognise you."

Gwen tensed up. She assumed the man had recognised her from the police blotter.

"Sir, uh…"

"Then you must be Wanda Maximoff."

Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. She really had to put more trust in her spider-sense in social situations.

"The transfer student from Russia?"

Gwen gaped for a second, caught completely off-guard.

"Y-yes, dat es me," she finally said in the best Russian accent that she could muster on such short notice.

That explained a lot. The spider-sense had been referring to her.

The man extended a hand, smiling warmly. He modulated his speech carefully, hoping that it would aid "Wanda's" comprehension. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Doctor Bucci. I am the principal. Welcome to America."

"I-it, uh, eet eez mine plezoore also." Relieved to a point, Gwen shook Dr. Bucci's hand.

"I thought you would be arriving much later. We were not prepared for you quite so early."

"Ja, vell, I am here now."

"And indeed, whether late or early, your arrival is a pleasure. Allow me to take you on a tour of the school."

The next thirty minutes were a blur as Gwen was dragged from location to location by the overeager principal. He talked about the courses she would be taking, "reminded" her about housing and dining and extracurriculars, told her about the supplementary English courses, diverted onto tangents, presented her with a riddle or two that she couldn't solve, then resettled onto the subject at hand.

Gwen tried her best to remember all the information that kept getting thrown at her. Classes started promptly at 8:30; physics was first, followed by history, precalculus, et cetera; she was apparently listed as a freshman; she'd be in physics with the other transfer student who had arrived a couple of days ago; dorms were across the bridge (she was in room 118); study rooms were downstairs. There was a lot to remember. She didn't know how she could keep up this schedule, maintain her Russian facade, and somehow return home to her dimension.

But she would figure it out. Gwen just needed to put more faith in herself.

Also, she was starving. At least she wouldn't have to worry about meals any longer.

Dr. Bucci finally returned her to the main office and told her, "I'll send a copy of your schedule to your room, and I'll let your teachers know you're coming. Classes start tomorrow, so for now, feel free to relax, get lunch, explore a little. Also, we'll send up a uniform for you, plus all the assignments that you've missed. See you around!" He waved and walked off.

Gwen sighed in relief. She had plenty of time to figure out what she was doing.

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