The Rocket had come all this way, drawn from the secret sanctity of headquarters to find a refill for a brand name cleaning spray with the scent of 'lemon clean'. However, the person she had asked for directions had just emerged from a comic convention and misheard the words as 'figurine', believing Jordan had wanted to know where he had gotten his own from. As a result, after doing as she'd been told, the confused and terrified woman found herself before a stall selling character figurines in what she'd been told was called the 'vendor's hall' of a large building she'd taken for a department store from the outside. Foot traffic was so dense that random strangers kept brushing against her and jostling her as they walked by or tried to get a better look at the figurines for sale.
Though a grown adult, she felt like curling up in a corner and crying. She dreaded doing that too, though, because that would have likely drawn even more people to her. Her anxiety began to cause her to hyperventilate. If only she could get some space! She needed air; clean air that wasn't tainted by the sticky sweat evaporating off of so many bodies pressed close together in such a confined area. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
Jordan's panic began to override her rationality and she feared that if she breathed too deeply, she would become contaminated. Her vision blurred and she began to feel light-headed, but she didn't dare wasting any more of what precious air remained in her lungs by expelling it. All she could think of was the fact that if she fainted then and there, she would end up on the disgusting, germ-infested ground. She should have just stayed back at the base.
TawnyAngel
(Sorry this took me so long to start! >_< I hope it's okay, but if not, please let me know!))
