Yelena Belova

Yelena had no wish to go anywhere today. Tomorrow there was an event at Stark Industrisies that she had to deal with and as for 'parents weekend'...

Well, she knew that no parent or family member of hers was going to be showing up this weekend.

So tonight, Yelena was sitting on her front porch and drinking vodka as Fanny ran about the yard. And all was good and fine until Yelena noticed Fanny's ears perk up as she stared at a figure on the road.

And for some reason Yelena felt like she was being watched.
( Some Baba Yaga Sh*t )

[Preplayed with the amazing oldwifeofthesoul. Open for anyone else who wishes to visit]

Outside on the picket fence of the Lighthouse Cottage, a simple sign was tacked up:

Allen Wrench Party

Come inside and help with IKEA construction.
Free booze!
Free food!
Way too friendly dog!

Inside, the promise was kept. If your idea of food and booze was stacks of pizza boxes and mostly cheap beer and hard liquor.

Yelena had spent most of the week fixing up the place, but the IKEA shipment had only arrived yesterday, so the furniture was still a work in progress. The walls and ceilings were freshly painted white, but the carpet, drapes, and lighting in the two-bedroom cottage were a riot of mismatched colors. It was like someone had thrown a Jackson Pollock painting into a blender with that psychedelic boat trip from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

And right in the middle of this chaotic, colorful mess was Yelena, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half-assembled IKEA furniture and discarded instructions. She’d been at it all day, and it showed. She’d given up on any hope of a put-together look, dressed only in a tank top and athletic shorts, her hair a tangled mess falling into her face.

The living room was mostly done, there was a dining room table standing on its own four legs, and one bed was finally put together in the bedroom. But there were still stacks of flat-pack boxes waiting to test her patience. At this point, it was just about survival.

And maybe, bribing people with enough booze to help finish the rest…

[Open to all. Up early because I might have a hectic morning. ]

Yelena had lived in a lot of different places in her life: a floating, sterile prison in the sky, countless hotel rooms, shadowy safe houses, more hotel rooms, and, on one particularly memorable night, an HVAC duct.

But there was something strange about the cottage she found herself in now. It was clear it had been years since anyone had called it home. A fine layer of dust coated the floors and every flat surface, disturbed only by her footsteps and Fanny's occasional pounces on a stray dust bunny. The place was completely empty—no couch, no bed, not even a chair.

The tour didn’t take long. It was just a couple of small bedrooms, a combined kitchen/dining/living room area, and a single bathroom. And it all needed work. Yelena walked through the space a few more times, Fanny trailing behind her, sniffing at corners and darting after imaginary prey.

She pulled out her phone and sent out a text. This place is a dump. She didn't have to wait long for a reply.

You could use a project.

The sigh and eyeroll was epic, even though there was no one around to see it. "Fine."

She wandered out on the porch of the cottage and sat down on the bench pulling out her phone. As she started doing a search for a place to get furniture, Fanny ran out into the yard to sniff and explore.

It didn't take long for Yelena to discover a nearby feature of Fandom.

"There's an IKEA island?"

Truly a voyage of discovery.

[Open. Sure. Why not?]