Holy Sh*tsnacks, Batman! // Early February// Open

[sploosh]

Who: Pam , the Wayne family, and you?
When: Early morning in the Wayne household / throughout the day in town
Where: The Wayne Household / Shops in town
What: Waking up in Santa Rosita and getting the lay of the land
Warnings: Warnings for Pam-typical levels of obscenity


Home Sweet Hostage Situation

The sun is streaming through the window. The birds are singing. There's the soft rumble of car engines warming up as the men of the town head out to work. It's a beautiful day in Santa Rosita..and it sounds NOTHING like the big city, so Pam can't sleep. She tosses and turns for a while, fighting the obvious discord all around her, but it's just too much.

The blond sits up in her twin bed asking "why's it so bright?" to no one in particular. That brightness gives way to the obvious problems with the location, though. This room alone is bigger than Pam's whole apartment and none of these things belong to her. Did she get hammered and pass out in a stranger's bed? No. None of her one-night-stands live anywhere this clean. Not unless it's a serial killer. She sees the photo of herself and Bruce on the nightstand between the beds. Yep...definitely a serial killer if they put in this kind of effort, but a damn handsome one. Pam grabs the lamp off the little table and carries it with her as she makes her way through the house in her nightgown, taking in all the photos and looking for her kidnapper so she can smash his very pretty brains in.
"Hello? Ridiculously good looking stalker? Anybody?"


---------------------------------------------

Making it feel like home...

Pam doesn't think of the money she has as "stolen". Bruce is her husband, after all. It's their money. Besides, she's using it for their house! She's going to make it so much better!

She's going up and down the floors and ailes of Honeybees looking for just the right items. If she's stuck in this weird out-of-date after school special, she can at least have a home she can be proud of. For now, she's trying to add some color...and some liquor. She has some tiki torches sticking awkwardly out of her buggy nearly a full rainbow of fiesta-ware.

Finally, in frustration, she just stops the next person she sees.

"Excuse me, but have you seen any liquor bars for sale? Especially something that works as with a tiki theme. I woulda thought the house would have a built in wet-bar, but no such luck...Indoor or outdoor, I'm easy."


________________________________________

Every cloud has a sugar lining

Shopping is hungry work. Work that calls for two burgers and a large chocolate shake. This place is a weird and terrible fever dream, but at least it has an old timey diner in the middle. If this milkshake isn't the best thing she's ever had, Pam is calling shenanigans on this whole thing.

She sits at her diner table all alone, but she's certainly open to company. Please just ignore the mess she's making with that burger. There is a distinct possibility that she was born in a barn.

Comments

[undiagnosed]

"Sounds like an asswipe," Archer comments blithely, finally sliding the milkshake over the table back to Pam. Oh, yes, that sugary monstrosity hit a certain spot. Would be better with some rum in it, though. He doesn't have any on hand. Tragedy.

Archer rests his fist on his chin in thought, though his thick brows pinch at the mention of robots.

"Uh, yeah, because robo-me went so well last time, right?" He does wonder what happened to those things, though. Krieger probably still has them. Creepy bastard. "Seriously? Ugh, it's better when the creepiness doesn't make itself apparent. Are you gonna do it anyway? You should do it anyway."

[sploosh]

"Hey, I didn't replace you with a robot! I'm just sayin is either there's something back home that does a great Archer impression, or you're in two places at one time."
Both seem equally likely, at this point. Pam doesn't know what's going on. She's half given up understanding any of it.

"Anyways, yeah. I'm totally gonna build the bar anyway."
She leans over the table, trying to keep things more private.
"I figure we can have normal-person meet ups, talk about what we've seen, and get hammered."

[undiagnosed]

"Perfect situational awareness..." he mutters, but he figures he's too sober to actually try to work out how all that works. Whatever! He trusts Robo-Archer, anyway. He's the only one he can ever trust. "Okay, now you're talking sense!"

Archer eyes the milkshake for a moment like he's considering grabbing it up again, but doesn't. He digs around in his coat pockets for a moment and pushes a silver flask across the table to Pam instead. Friendship offering.

"What have you seen?"

[sploosh]

Pam frowns and narrows her eyes. Obviously, if he's been replaced and she didn't notice, it's a damn good replacement. Archer wouldn't notice if she was replaced by a watercooler in a bad wig so he can shove his situational awareness up his ass.

"Personally? All I've seen is a bunch of locals being big downers and fuckin weirdos. They hate swearing and a good time. They shit all over my free speech and desire for a full liquor bar... But talking to my new family, I know those that have been here longer have seen some more serious shit...and I wanna hear about it."

[undiagnosed]

"God, right? There's so many hot housewives around that don't want to cheat on their husbands. It's unnatural. Givenchy dresses make boobs look so crazy," he says, holding his hands in front of his chest. Pam would appreciate this in a way that Ray would not, he thinks. Archer trails off, humming a little in thought as Pam continues on. A 1960s gossip train, of course. What else would she immediately do?

"There was... a weird Christmas town in December. Like, you'd open a door and suddenly you'd be in it! Then it started dumping people in the lake..."

Judging by the brief pinch of his brows, Archer was one of the unlucky people. It does not bare going into detail why he did not like being dunked in a freezing lake.

"Oh! Shit! Pam!" he chirps, suddenly. "I have a wife now!"

[sploosh]

"Well, if other 'new residents' husbands are like mine, they aren't getting it at home."

Pam laughs, but is clearly put out by the lack of marital action. What good is lucking out in the husband department if you sleep in separate beds like the you're Mary Tyler Moore and all the Dick is across the room?

"Oh god, right? Half the reason for the aggressive tittays is the bras, though. These things are awful, but they make the boobs just...bam...stare right at'cha!"

She snorts another laugh, knowing damn well Archer got dunked in a lake. He would find it funnier if he didn't.

"Oh shit! What's your wife like? Is she hot?"

[undiagnosed]

Archer scoffs at that, smirking. God, it's so cool how Pam is always on the same wavelength as him - though his expression drops slightly when she asks the obvious question.

"She's tiny! She looks like she's fourteen. So much so I don't actually believe she's twenty?" He is absolutely disappointed about that, he hasn't felt comfortable hitting on her! Well, that and she's already married and doesn't want to cheat. Boring. "You'd like her, though. She has a pet lizard that can play chess."

[sploosh]

"Bummer... You can probably make a few bucks showin off the chess playin lizard, though. So, there's that. ... I totally gotta see that, by the way."
Pam shrugs. If her husband looked like a little kid, she'd be dry as the Sahara, herself, so she can't blame her friend. Kids are a hard pass.

"Yeeeah...apparently Bruce has a lady back home he's stayin' loyal to as well. It sucks."
She won't say anything just yet, but they may be eachother's best bet in this place. The locals are creepy and the other kidnapped folks seem to have somebody back home. Or here. Or they're gay. Any way you look at it, it's not great.

[undiagnosed]

"It has definitely never beaten me," he says, a little too quickly. Because Archer is known for his chess skills, right?

Archer exhales, so put upon.

"Way to make me feel like a total creep, shitty Leave it to Beaver knock off town." God, but propositioning her due to the fact they're both getting None crosses his mind for a moment, but he doesn't focus on it. He's not in the mood. What the fuck? "I'm gonna get a burger to go, then we gotta get this Tikki bar of yours set up. Rapunzel - that's her name, I'm serious - is using most of the space back at the house for her art."

Archer... giving up space for someone else? God, he must give at least half a shit about her.