One minute Dana was in her room, alternating between homework and writing up a summary of Wayne-Powers's latest meeting, the next she's in a warehouse. A very loud warehouse in every sense of the word. The chaos is overwhelming and she covers her ears to try to filter out at least a little bit of the noise as she looks around. The goods... look expensive, and the staff... are just bizarre.
She's been through something a bit like this before, when a bad guy tried hypnotizing her so she'd rob her boss for him. It wasn't exactly like this, but close enough that she thinks she has the situation worked out. Closing her eyes as well, she shouts, "Not falling for it this time, illusion guy!" Eyes still closed, she fumbles for her phone. "Call the commish," she tells it.
getting to work
Once the arrival shock has worn off and Dana's realized this is real, she jumps to help. She's not sure what's going on, besides that they have to fill in for Santa for some reason, but if there's one thing she's gotten good at, it's getting things where they need to be. Anyone who finds themselves lacking a needed tool will soon have it supplied by her, and she whisks completed toys away in short order.
When the apparent leader asks for volunteers to play Christmas Carol ghosts to billionaires, she takes a break. She has two names in mind and wants to look them up.
She was not expecting the result from the first one. "BRUCE WAYNE IS WHO?!" The shout can probably be heard even over the general din. Or you might stumble over the teen girl who has just sat down heavily on the floor in the middle of everything.
outside
Dana's on a street corner, handing out bundles of money to late-night retail workers and the like as they pass. "Compliments of the Wayne Foundation," she says with a smile, getting more than a few smirks in response.
On the opposite side of the street, a woman holding a child's hand meets up with a man accompanying a teenage boy. It's a totally ordinary innocuous event, but Dana's transfixed, staring at them, eyes tearing up.
no subject
One minute Dana was in her room, alternating between homework and writing up a summary of Wayne-Powers's latest meeting, the next she's in a warehouse. A very loud warehouse in every sense of the word. The chaos is overwhelming and she covers her ears to try to filter out at least a little bit of the noise as she looks around. The goods... look expensive, and the staff... are just bizarre.
She's been through something a bit like this before, when a bad guy tried hypnotizing her so she'd rob her boss for him. It wasn't exactly like this, but close enough that she thinks she has the situation worked out. Closing her eyes as well, she shouts, "Not falling for it this time, illusion guy!" Eyes still closed, she fumbles for her phone. "Call the commish," she tells it.
getting to work
Once the arrival shock has worn off and Dana's realized this is real, she jumps to help. She's not sure what's going on, besides that they have to fill in for Santa for some reason, but if there's one thing she's gotten good at, it's getting things where they need to be. Anyone who finds themselves lacking a needed tool will soon have it supplied by her, and she whisks completed toys away in short order.
When the apparent leader asks for volunteers to play Christmas Carol ghosts to billionaires, she takes a break. She has two names in mind and wants to look them up.
She was not expecting the result from the first one. "BRUCE WAYNE IS WHO?!" The shout can probably be heard even over the general din. Or you might stumble over the teen girl who has just sat down heavily on the floor in the middle of everything.
outside
Dana's on a street corner, handing out bundles of money to late-night retail workers and the like as they pass. "Compliments of the Wayne Foundation," she says with a smile, getting more than a few smirks in response.
On the opposite side of the street, a woman holding a child's hand meets up with a man accompanying a teenage boy. It's a totally ordinary innocuous event, but Dana's transfixed, staring at them, eyes tearing up.