EVENT LOG 002

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: July 27
WHAT: New Amsterdam experiences a wave of unusual violence.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, injury, death. Further notes at end of log.

> EVENT LOG #002

Flu season doesn't tend to hit during New Amsterdam's high summer, but the symptoms that sweep over numerous citizens over the city are similar enough to make people worry. Thanks to the high level of medical care and immunizations, sweeps of sickness like the one takes hold of the city on the morning of July 27th are uncommon. The occurrences are incidental, however – nothing to write home about, and nothing to go to the hospital for, not that the people in question are willing. Any suggestion that there may be something wrong could be easily taken as a slight – as if one wrong word could set them off. The first reports of the chaos begin come in waves around midday. Police blotters update to describe unusual acts of violence at all corners of the city. These stories begin with the bizarre. One man holds up a drug store with a haphazard set of weapons because the storekeepers offered him poor customer service. An arrest occurs in the financial district because a high-end gourmet commodities manager splashes a hot drink on her customer's face after they tap their foot impatiently. These incidents escalate before long – hovercars crash into one another in shocking displays of road rage, the vice president of sales at a Giles Bell pharmaceutical subsidiary demands that security shut down all exits to the building, insisting that everyone must remain inside to be searched. The cause for this search is unknown. Once again caught unaware by the wave of violence sweeping over the city, NAPD officers hit the streets to try to stymie the frequent occurrences. However, they're ill-prepared for what lies ahead of them. The offenders are difficult to identify ahead of time, prowling through the streets as if they're hunting their victims. Various businesses end up surrounded by teams of NAPD officers, trying to find a way to break through security to help the innocent people held inside. With how massive and overpopulated that New Amsterdam is, there aren't enough officers to stem the violence.

> THE SAFEHOUSE

As the day stretches on, local news reports advise all New Amsterdam citizens to return home or to somewhere they know to be safe. They have very little information about the cause for these events, and reporters are hesitant to draw any conclusions. Each reporter, however, offers a common refrain: it's a month to the day of the strange creature's attack on the city, and this bizarre onslaught is hitting it when it is at its weakest. They advise anyone to send tips to the NAPD about why this outbreak of violence has occurred, as well as any information on any incidents or offenders. Gaby had the day off when the news reports began to come in, and was nowhere near the safehouse when she got the call to come in. Getting to the safehouse is difficult, wearying, and she looks worse for wear when she gets inside. She has a gun holstered under a jacket, hidden away, and infrequently used. Anyone who comes in will be checked, passed over with a metal detector. No one gets in with a weapon. Everything is secure, because the safehouse is small, tight. Even if it's just the player characters living there now, it's likely less of a haven and more of a place that could present a number of risks. Gaby knows this, but like anyone in this – she's caught in a bit of a bind. For anyone who's present, she'll take stock of how they're doing. Without knowledge of the early symptoms being common knowledge, it will be difficult to pick any out. There is room for someone to lie about someone's behavior – Gaby has no way of knowing, no way of "curing" anyone to check if they're telling the truth. That's not to say she won't be on edge or prepared for any attacks to occur inside the safehouse. She will be ready to step in and restrain anyone who exhibit violent behavior against another person. Besides, anyone smart probably wouldn't come back to a limited, closed space with multiple other strangers. The safehouse isn't looking all that safe right now.

> THE CURE

How it first happens may be coincidence. A desperate grab to stop a fist making impact, or an attempt to restrain someone. Either way, skin to skin contact is made, and the effect is immediate: a burning sensation at the point of contact, and the now familiar blue glow. What it indicates isn't clear. The affected person shows no change in behavior, not to start. But as the burning gets worse, they seem to slowly calm. Eventually a sense of peace falls on both of you, one that flows into a deep, terrible wave of sadness, gone as soon as it came. The offender looks at you with clear eyes, clear-headed. They don't know what came over them, why they did what they did. They were so angry, so sure what they were doing was justified. But in the aftermath, all that's left is confusion and guilt. You look at your hands and realize you have the means to prevent more of them from doing anything terrible. But it could be at great risk to yourself – physically, and in being seen, being caught and found out to not be of this world. The reports of the attacks continue on the news, more hostage incidents where the NAPD are unable to reason with the hostage takers, attacks on the streets leaving people critically wounded, or worse. Is risking yourself worth it to try saving this city?

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for this event for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event and the questions thread for any questions regarding this event. Affected characters must have entered the burning building during our guided log earlier in the month, though it isn't necessary for you to have responded to the log to say your character did so! Any characters who did not enter the building will be unaffected, including all newcomers from the last arrival. The incidents will continue until July 30, IC time. An aftermath wrap up post will be made on October 26 which will detail the resolution and fallout of the event. As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event. This will be granted for a thread of at least 5 action/log comments containing your character "curing" either another player character or an NPC. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by November 20 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

[forcevisions]

[ Rey attributes her fresh surge of grouchiness to the recognition that she has been here a month. An entire cycle spent understanding little to nothing about how they had arrived or how they could get home. Knowing Finn and Poe had been in confinement has tempered some of her antsy inklings towards flight — the Resistance, then, is surely all also in this world, far from home. Safe, for the time being, from the First Order. In a way that's a blessing, and she has held onto that, but … That reassurance has worn off. And now she's tense. With everyone, in fact. ]

A: WORKPLACE GRIEVANCE
[ One sign that she might be among those affected comes at her work. Anyone who's stopping by to visit might be privy to it. Her boss and the garage owner, Vinda, comes out of the office to tell her to stop socializing with whoever has come to see her on her lunch, and immediately, Rey goes off. ]

I do more than anyone else here. [ She takes up a spanner — no, wrench, it's called a wrench here — off the seat of the hoverbike she's been working on and approaches him. ] And if I have to hear from you one more time about pulling my weight just because I'm new …

[ It's enough to give the strong impression that she is drifting towards violence. Vinda looks indignant more than pushed over. This situation might just escalate. ]

B: GONE HUNTING
[ She goes to the safehouse and tries to find those who haven't yet figured out that she's affected — or rather, who haven't wound up on the wrong end of an indignant defense that she's acting perfectly normal, thank you. Rey is insistent that she's just fine.

The problem is that she has a bone to pick, and the person she wants to pick it with is hiding from her, as far as she's concerned. ]

There was a man staying here. Tall, dark hair, unpleasant. Do you know where he went?

[ Kylo, of course, had been the one to tell her that he moved out of the safehouse recently — but he'd left out where he'd gone to. ]

C: HEROING
[ After she's been cured, she devotes her efforts to helping reduce the damage that others infected can do. She takes to the streets of the city with any who'll join her — 'For back-up,' she suggests, knowing how hard it had been to subdue her while she was under the influence — keeping an eye out for ruckus.

It could be anything:

A woman in one of the nicer cafés has spilled her water all over a waitress who got her check wrong, and the ensuing kerfluffle draws them inside.

A disaffected employee has taken to throwing office furniture out the window of one of the high-rises in order to show his distress after her boss fires her.

Or any other number of quick-to-anger people causing trouble around the city.

When they encounter the signs, Rey and her companion, she's quick to suggest: ]

We need to help.

D: WILDCARD
[ ooc; feel free to hit me with something of your choice for this event or reach out at protects for plotting! however, please note that I've pre-arranged that Ciri will be the one to cure Rey, so while others can try, she'll slip them or fight them off! ]

Heroing

[solocowboy]

Napoleon watched what was happening with growing concern, because plagues and illnesses were no joke, anyone with a rough understanding of history knew that much. He was certainly not going to be kidnapped to the far future only to die of a flu, however, so he kept a fair distance at first, from anyone who may even slightly be sick or showing signs. His own survival was higher on the list, with Illya's survival secondary or equal to that. But once it was understood that ending this disaster was the safest way? Well, yes. He was a man of action, after all.

He sees Rey from a slight distance away; he recognizes her from coming to the safehouse, although they didn't met. Napoleon has a perfect memory for faces. He spots an angry man on the street who apparently didn't get an answer he wanted from whoever he was talking to, and was starting to throw a tantrum at the woman who caused it. "Miss! You, with the pretty brown hair. Behind you." He moves with certainty and speed, going right past her to intercept the attack. There's no doubting who he meant, since his eyes make contact while he does, and he blocks the punch that might have knocked the innocent woman down.

This is hardly a real fight between spies so it isn't that difficult to break his defense and counter attack. It's all a ruse to keep his attention now on Napoleon so Rey can step in and help with the cure, if she is willing.

B

[frostedplum]

That could describe several people, I think.

[ Mei taps her lower lip in thought, trying to narrow down who Rey's looking for. At this moment, she can't yet tell there's anything wrong with her, so she does her best to be helpful. ]

Do you know his name?

C

[temperedavatar]

[It was now a week since she'd been given the all clear to venture beyond the safe house and a little longer than that since she'd...arrived here in the first place. It was still pretty overwhelming for her, especially going outside, but she couldn't stick around the safe house forever if she wanted to help. She needed to continue to get acclimated and she WAS getting better at least at navigating the streets around the safe house and not being completely startled each time. The troubling part was that it seemed the city was getting a dose of even more chaos and that didn't sit well with Korra.

She wanted to get out there. She wanted to help. Which is why it should come as no surprise when Rey asked for back-up that she eagerly joined.

That eagerness is dampened a little when she's nearly killed by furniture crashing out of a high rise window. Korra is stunned momentarily but then looks skyward, towards the newly broken window.]

Right. Let's go before they actually hit someone next time.

d with flavors of b tossed in;

[warfares]

[ she'll find him, eventually; determined as she is its really just a matter of time.

or, perhaps more accurately, he finds her. emerging from the shadows like some spectral wraith, all black leather and impassive expression. the only noticeable splash of color are a set of gold dice wound carefully around one wrist. ]

I'm surprised you didn't mention the ears. [ mild, as if the agonisingly slow growth of his hair hasn't been a constant annoyance. the violation of his person something he will never be able to forgive.

they're ridiculous ears, too. definitely the kind of thing someone would remember. ]

b.

[strove]

[In response, Clarke's expression is wary and uncertain. Some of the news has already started to filter in, and she's undoubtedly had a couple close calls of deciding to give someone else a wide berth. She doesn't know what to think about any of this. As weird as things could be back home, somehow "everyone bleeding from every orifice" is less weird than mass chaos and violence.

Somehow.

But Rey asked a question, and she isn't going to just ... look at her without a response.

Her brow wrinkles, but she does respond:] I'm sorry. What you just said could mean anyone here.

[They do have a lot of tall, unpleasant men with dark hair.]

wildcard

[persists]

[ It's a brilliant chase — one that she quite remember having. The pain in her chest from her exertion, the wild whipping through her ashen strands of hair. Ciri knew what was at stake and for the girl who's blood could undo time and heal wounds, someone who she liked was needing her help.

She didn't piece it together at first — that touch was what assisted. Murmurs among them to assist where needed with touch and perhaps, Ciri's blood would be safe for now.

Even now, as her knees dig into broken glass and asphalt, Ciri pins Rey down with a determined, tired, and emotional stress straining her features. Chasing Rey down before anyone got hurt or any attention was drawn was the easy part, keeping her to alleyways and working the streets until they were closer to her empty apartment, but it was officially hers. If she could do something, get her alone and — ]

Stand down, you mustn't do anything to hurt yourself! Please.

[ A hand comes up to Rey's bare bicep and squeezes, the blue glow between them radiating in dancing pulses. This was going to be bad. ]

Wrench | ota

[wrenchinald]

[A. STAY SICK]

[Look, he wasn't not going to end up in a burning building. You can't keep Mr. Friendly Neighborhood Handsome Pyromaniac Genius out of a burning building.

But, like, who's gonna connect going in a burning building with getting sick anyway? He feels a little off, but it's probably just shitty future germs. And it's future germs he's spending his time thinking about when someone just barely bumps into him on the street.]

Hey!

[He takes a step forward, fists clenched, until he notices someone else is watching. He turns to them, a little more violently than should be warranted.]

What?

[At least he's not actually being violent or something. He must just be a little irritable today. It happens! Should be easily de-escalated, and besides, he's gotta get to work.]

[B. STAY SICKER]

[Man, this cold sucks. Or maybe it's the flu. He's not really stuffy or anything but he still feels like shit, and apparently a lot of people are feeling like shit, because it's all over the news now. And since people are supposed to go home, and he's not exactly being productive when he's feeling like shit, he gets the okay to leave work early. Probably shouldn't have come in in the first place, but future capitalism still sucks and man he's really pissed off even with the early day.

Yeah, maybe sleep's a good idea. His mask has been cycling between all angry eye options for the past hour anyway. Definitely not a good look, even at a kind of relaxed workplace environment. Shouldn't be too long to get the hell out of here, hole up in his house, eat some buggy snacks, and...

He passes a fast food restaurant with its windows all smashed, right at the perfect time for some kind of veggie burger to fly out and smack him right in the head, knocking his mask slightly askew.

Normally, this would be kind of hilarious. This is not normally. He stops in his tracks, turns, and makes his way towards the restaurant, seething.]

Okay, which one of you fucks did that??

[C. FRIDAY I'M IN........... HATE]

[Oh no. No no no no no. He does not need this right now. He is not in the mood for this shit right now. Doesn't matter what they claim they're doing, he's gonna fight back as much as he can, because fuck this, fuck that, and fuck everyone.]

Don't fucking touch me!

[Somebody cure this asshole.]

[D. WILDCARD]

[got other plans? wanna get cured after he hopefully gets his shit fixed? hit me! or hit me up for plotting here or at agentkaz!]

C

[frostedplum]

I— I can help!

[ Mei's holding up her hands, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. She doesn't want to get punched in the face for her efforts, but Wrench could really hurt someone if she doesn't do this. ]

If we just hold on to each other, your illness will go away.

Napoleon Solo / OTA

[solocowboy]

The Safehouse

Napoleon is watching the news. He has to admit that the advanced technology is strange, but it's very useful and informative. Well, as much information as they have at the moment. Illness has a tendency to create public panic, something he's very aware of at the moment. Plagues are terrifying, even if this isn't one of them. He has no idea. All of this is so new. Being in close quarters with a bunch of strangers is potentially lethal, but currently being there is helpful to getting what facts they might have.

He rubs his chin pensively, vivid blue eyes simply watchful of everyone there and of the details as they come flooding in, haphazardly. He has no intention at the moment of doing anything that would put himself at risk. That would be foolish. He's in a strange place with no way out and who knows what illnesses he has a better chance of picking up on. "This just keeps getting better and better," he murmurs to himself.

A Cure, early on in a public street

By this time, Napoleon's seen several people sick and noted the way they act. It's a strange sort of delusional fever from what he can tell. No one he's met seems to have fallen ill yet. He feels fine. He is paranoid though and cautious around others, which is why when an angry someone almost runs right into him, he very nimbly moves out of the way in time. This only seems to bother the man in question more, who gets more in his face.

"What, you think I'm a leper? You think I'm not worth breathing the same air as you?"

Napoleon sizes the person up. It's not a real threat, as far as he can tell, the man is strong but doesn't have the grace of a warrior. He circles, hoping he'll get distracted, but no dice. He punches and Napoleon dodges easily, and this goes on for a few times, before he realizes he has to grapple instead. His grip on the other man is tight, holding his first back and trying to restrain him, and that's when it happens. His skin did an unusual glow, enough to almost startled Napoleon into letting go entirely. He's shocked. They both stare at it, and he feels like he's burning. It's overwhelming at first.

By the end the fervor seems to go out of the man, like a spell being broken. Napoleon's jaw drops at the man apologizes and stumbles off, leaving the former spy-thief to look down at his hands with an open mouth. "What in the world ...." He looks up and sees someone else who he thinks might actually be one of them. "Did you see that?" He's uncertain he believes it!

A cure

[temperedavatar]

Korra's exercising a lot of caution all things considered. The news of the spreading illness and violence puts her on edge, which would normally cause someone to follow direction and stay indoors. However, for Korra, it feels like an open invitation to try and get out and actually help. She may not be the official Avatar here, but that doesn't mean she can just shut off the part of herself that wants to help others and restore order. It's just instilled in her and is perhaps a part of her that goes beyond her Avatar spirit.

Besides, if she hides from the world out of fear now, then she will probably never manage to get out there. She can't let her lack of bending stop her and she muses on how far she's come that she does feel confident she can still help even without her bending.

Despite the reports, she wasn't actually expecting to run into any trouble. She probably should have known better, given her track record. Thankfully though she isn't at the center of it, just a witness to it. She recognizes one of the men from the Safehouse. She doesn't think they'd actually spoken yet, but she definitely is good with faces and remembers seeing him around. He handles himself fairly impressively, but that isn't what has her watching in awe. There's a blue glow!

Without thinking she moves closer and that must be what draws his attention to her. She blinks at being addressed, but then nods at his question. She's looking around to see if anyone else saw that before continuing, "I did! What did you do to that guy?" It certainly wasn't bending, but something in the man had been changed by his touch and Korra was more than curious if she could learn it as well.

the safehouse

[drivein]

To keep himself from dragging his own thoughts down into that of his lost home town, Jughead's been studying the media. There's a lot to go to, many pits to fall in, and so much breaking news that he could make this a full time job. There's so much more going on in this big city than there ever was in Riverdale.

He's caught up in his neural implant when Napoleon says something.

"Yeah, better is definitely a word for it."

kylo ren | ota

[warfares]

THE SAFEHOUSE.

[ there's been a bitter taste on his mouth since his return from the nurse's apartment — longer than that, truthfully — but after adding this to the growing list of disappointments, he's found himself reconsidering a few things.

some distance is probably required.

he's found a place: small, but he's never needed much space, and the rent falls well within the limit of his budget. his meager possessions are easily stowed in a pack, helmet plucked from its resting place beside his cot. he stops by the kitchen on his way out to help himself to one of the apples, taking a long, savoring bite of the fruit as he heads toward the door. ]

HUNTING.

[ the reports spill in.

it's enough to confirm that there's something afoot, though the connection between this recent spate of episodes and the apartment fire earlier this week will not occur until much later.

regardless, he's here and he's on the look out for anything untoward. help him:

a. subdue a frazzled cashier that's reached her limit with a difficult customer,
b. break up a bar-fight,
c. deal with any other of the affected sprinkled across the city. ]

THE AFTERMATH.

[ ooc; or the pick your poison, option. Following the event Kylo's moved out of the safehouse but will check-in periodically, especially when there are new arrivals or for missions. You can hit him up at his inbox or find him at one of the sky parks, an assortment of dive bars or taking a turn in one of the fighting rings. Hit me up here, via pm or at resurrectionist for plotting. ]

the hunt!

[retravel]

[ he and kylo frequent a few of the same bars. they run in the same monster-corpse-poking and illegal sporting circles these days, after all. there's a degree of mutual respect involved and tacit agreement to keep their interactions quiet, unless it's helpful to the greater populace. there's no casual texting or intentional rendezvous — they simply end up at the same establishment during their respective pursuit of troublemakers in the evening. by now, fitz can spot the symptoms and knows how difficult it is to dole out the cure. no doubt there'll be a spectacularly violent outburst at a place like this.

fitz would be lying if he said he didn't find it fascinating to watch, even as empathy urges him to help. he only just purchases a pint, sliding in beside kylo with a curt nod of acknowledgment, when an argument picks up, piercing the din.

sighing, he takes a swig of his drink. today's dead shitty and still going. ]

You know what to do? [ a glance over his shoulder at the warring pair. hard to tell who's affected, at first glance, when the two men seem equally pissed off. could be an average altercation, if the escalation weren't so rapid ]

safehouse

[temperedavatar]

[Korra was distracted by the activity of the Safehouse as usual. With the reports coming in encouraging people to stay inside, Korra has never felt more ready to get outside. She's ventured out a few times by this point, mostly sticking to the immediate area.

However, the nervous and overwhelming feeling from her initial arrival is starting to become a distant memory. It wouldn't surprise her if a curfew or some other restriction gets put in place and honestly as much as she appreciates the help of the people here she really doesn't want to be caught stuck in some safehouse when she could be out THERE.

Korra's making her own way to the exit when she notices a familiar face heading for the same location, an apple in hand. She crosses over, slides into step next to him and asks, perhaps a little too eagerly:]

Hey. Where are you off to?

[The unasked question is, of course, can she come too?]

hunting

[secondnature]

[Keith's seen Kylo Ren around the safehouse. How could he not? He's huge: tall, muscular, with giant ears and a way of keeping to himself. That doesn't mean he knows his name, hobbies, or anything else. Right now, that doesn't matter. Two men are about to get into a fight for the same taxi. Keith knows the guy inside: he showed Keith the ropes and some of the best routes in the city when he first got hired, and Keith knows this isn't likely to end well.

He moves past Kylo, stopping only to look behind him.]

Come on. We've gotta stop them before they turn on the driver. He's a friend.

[Whether or not he's an actual "friend" is up for debate—Team Voltron has helped Keith broaden that terminology a bit.

For Keith's part, he looks like he's had a Rough Day. He started out in bad shape, but since the clearing of his infection (or whatever), he's been out helping. Doing everything he can. That's what matters most.]

keith | mostly ota

[secondnature]

a. the early stages

[If Keith has a job the next day, it'll only be because a million other drivers got hit by the same infection. He's already not the most patient when it comes to the job, and it worsens as the day goes on. At one point, he brings the hovercar down to the street so he can clear his head, opening the windows without a care in the world about the passenger behind him. He feels like he's suffocating.

When the man in the back reminds him that he has to go to the doctor, Keith snaps. He kicks him out. And then he drives the hovercar back to the parking complex that his cab company owns, and takes a walk back to the safehouse. By this point, the reports are only starting to break out, and Keith looks ... a little green. And a little snappish. His shoulders shake with anger as anyone walks by him, and he's trying to bite his tongue.

The moment someone walks too close, it's time to lash out.]

I didn't say you could walk there. In fact, I don't know why you're here at all.

b. life is war

[Eventually, Keith will leave the safehouse. Eventually, he'll take advantage of the chaos to loot another jacket to replace the one that burned. This one is slim and black, holding tight to his body, with a hood that hides his face. It reminds him of his Marmoran garb, which suits him. The work he has to do now is similar. Everyone here could be in on it. Everyone could be a part of the conspiracy to keep him from his team. From his mom.

What if Zarkon is alive? What if Lotor made sure to send him to another universe, just because he figured out a way to find Romelle? There are a lot of what ifs, and to Keith's mind, none of them are good. None of them.

The people on the streets are a problem, but not as much as anyone who's "not from around here." They could all be accomplices, all a way to keep Voltron from being stronger.

Keith huddles on a rooftop nearby with a knife in hand, ready to strike. The moment he sees someone exit the grocery store, he slings down quickly, landing behind them.]

What was your plan? I know you have a role in all of this. Tell me.

[Unless Keith finds them somewhere else. No matter where it is, it'll be obvious he was tracking them before he made himself known.]

c. knife fights | closed to jason

[The encounter with Jason goes differently.

And by "differently," it goes "far more violently." Keith remembers Jason calling for the first move, the first act in a fight. It had been a spar there, with Keith tempered, controlled. His anger was simmering but hidden away, far from needing a place to bleed out. Here, Keith is willing to act on it. His brain tells him that Jason, built like many of the Galra generals, would be a likely candidate for passing as someone else. No, he's not Galra. Keith doesn't think there are any people precisely like him running around. That'd be weird.

But built like one? Noticed because of that strength?

It makes sense.

So, the fight begins as an actual fight, Keith swinging in from a higher location to plant his foot directly onto Jason's chest. His mind tells him that he's got the clear upperhand here, that he'll win.

And if he doesn't, at least he has a knife. Hidden away. Ready.]

d. curing people (the Voltron coalition way)

[Once Keith is cured, he can't mope. He can't walk around on some apology tour. There are more people than just them who are hurt, so he needs to get out there. There are a few options for this:

1) he rallies a few people to go break up a hostage situation. It's important that they help. If it's not a few, at least it's one other person.
2) heading to the hospital to see if anyone's been brought in with these symptoms, especially since they combined with a sick feeling.
3) just generally going around the streets, looking for anyone to help. Loki planted the seed in Keith's head to play hero regularly here, and he made it clear he wouldn't give up on that.

He's a paladin, and he has a lot to make up for here.]

e. wildcard

[If these exact prompts don't fit, feel free to mess with them a bit to work better! I am looking to get Keith a curing thread, so he can either cure people in their group or NPCs (though the latter is likely easiest). Jason will be curing him, but I'm down for any and all other encounters, including someone sitting him down and making him relax for a moment.]

[reneger]

( jason was strolling down the block, memorizing the patterns of the streets, names, the homeless that happened to make this specific block their home--it's all important information. having a GPS system installed inside his skull doesn't mean he's going to let himself slack off.

or at least, that was the intention. there's something flying straight for him and jason can't quite make out the shape of it but he reacts on instinct regardless--shifts his weight to the side and lets his knees fall a bit to try and avoid a direct hit while hands reach out for the leg of whoever the hell decided to be brave enough to attack, trying to wrap fingers tight around a calf. )

The hell's your problem?!

markus | closed + ota

[saviorexe]

ONE; ANGER — OTA

[He doesn’t like the push and pull of a crowd, not since the day he arrived here, especially not when compromised of individuals thrumming with agitation, something boiling in their veins. Markus dislikes it especially now, his own emotions having transformed into something sharp and heated; easy to rise to indignant anger, easy to take offense, difficult to trust those around him. Sporting injuries that cause limbs and bones to ache, perpetually tasting copper from what appears to be a freshly split lip. It only adds to the mounting frustration, coiled up inside of him like a thing tightly awoken, and when someone bumps into him along the street he walks—

(Leo shoving him, sneering at him, Go ahead, hit me, what you waiting for? Think you’re a man? Act like one!)

—the response is automatic. This time, Markus shoves back. This time, eyes are sharp and nostrils flare, and his hands drop to his side only to curl into fists. Feet planted firmly on the ground. A taut wire ready to snap.]

Don’t even try to touch me again.

TWO; A CURE — CLOSED TO CLARKE

[Eventually, it’s Clarke that finds him in one of the city’s sky parks. Maybe it’s even the same one where they had met, not all that long ago, under the branches of a great shade tree, declaring trust and camaraderie with each other. It’s hard to tell, but the branches look the same, the path curves in the same way — moreover, Markus doesn’t care. Not in the state that he’s in, pain and aggrieved anger, coalesced into something ugly.

His jaw tightens as she approaches. The picturesque setting is drawn up in stark contrast against the tension that lines his shoulders, that makes all of his muscles feel tight.]

Clarke. What do you want?

[His voice has lost its usual patience, and she’ll hear an edge that never resided there before. It feels like distrust — like she’s come to turn on him, too. Connor already had, why not Clarke? It would be par for the course, just someone else to shatter his confidence in them.]

THREE; HEALING TOUCH — OTA

[He’s cured now. Of sound mind and rational thought, wracked with a guilt that he can tend to later. Markus is also barely in a state to aid anyone, but tell that to the stubborn core of himself. He pushes past dull aches and stinging pains, determined to find others that had gone into a fury. Familiar faces and natives alike, though his eyes are strained from mental exhaustion, and his focus haggard at best.

It doesn’t matter. It especially doesn’t matter when he finds someone who needs the assistance. They’re easy enough to spot at a distance, a fight on the edge of breaking out or having already exploded, but Markus doesn’t rush in immediately. Instead, there’s someone nearby who might can help, and he comes up next to them, muttering—]

I’m going to need help separating them from the others and keeping them still long enough. Think you can manage it?

WILDCARD;

[Or something different! I can be found at aurajen if you'd like to plot something specific out!]

one

[fessus]

[ New Amsterdam has so many things in it to see, so you'd better get started. That's what Connor had said, anyway, and Noctis hadn't seen many other options left to him. Taking advantage of the safehouse for a bed and an occasional meal was one thing, allowing himself to stay holed up in there without doing his due diligence and gathering information about this newest mess he's gotten himself into is another.

But the atmosphere is smothering.

Not only for the physical changes between here and the beautiful open landscapes of Lucis, but for the actual emotional charge in the air. He's heard shouts, distant arguments, slammed doors... but nothing alarming enough yet to send him in the other direction. Nothing to really grab his full attention, at least until he's shoulder-checked when he attempts to skirt around someone else and he hears a familiar voice in a very unfamiliar tone. ]

Hah? I wasn't trying in-- wait, Markus?

illya kuryakin (man from uncle) ota

[kgbs]

I ➣ ➣ ➣ INSIDE

[ as much as he tries to remain aloof, illya notices the change in tenor both within the building and on the news reports. he watches them passively, projecting a cool air of nonchalance though he is anything but. the people here have talked this place up, told him of the technology and advances and yet, here he is watching a population succumb to an illness. it's troubling.

between the burning building and now this, illya is seriously beginning to think that those that told him this place was safe might have been lying.

he stalks around the safehouse, both wanting to leave and not wanting to get involved, get sick. he was no use to anyone if he was sick so he stalks around, glaring at people who come in, glaring at people who leave. he gets into a few small fights with others but nothing terrible.

eventually, he finally makes the decision and leaves. he will not get sick. his body will not let him. ]

II ➣ ➣ ➣ OUTSIDE

[ the amount of sick people overwhelms him. illya has been in mass casualty situations before but it was been nothing like this. people bump into him, cough in his direction, grab at his arms and generally look like they should be anywhere but outside.

he shakes everyone off, uncertain of where he's going but knowing he wants to get there than to be here in the midst of a outbreak of some kind.

someone approaches him and illya makes to move but the man stupid grabs at his lapels and spits in his face, calling him a sympathizer. illya probably should have just removed his hands and sent him away but it's the spit that trips a switch. his anger swirls, coalesces into some dark, red bubble in his chest and when he rears back and punches the man, his chest blows blue and the man flies back like he's just been hit by a car.

illya watches in astonishment before shaking himself free and stepping away. he has no idea what the hell that was but he is not going to stay around to question it.

if the man is dead, the man is dead. illya had just been defending himself. but, he needs to get indoors somewhere and think.

he steps into the first club he can find, ignoring the surreptitious look from two women and blows out a long breath. ]

III ➣ ➣ ➣ WILDCARD

[ feel free to choose your own adventure or hit me up at spoonishly for plotting! illya's available for curing but he's also him and he's angry a lot so. beware. ]

inside

[secondnature]

[Glaring. Discomfort. A stranger acting like he has a problem. Normally, Keith would find it in himself to be able to deny such a thing and put it off. If Keith were in a more normal state of "bad mood," he'd be able to brush it off. But he's not. He notices Illya's discomfort. The way he finally leaves. All of it.

And eventually: he follows.

Keith decides for a hint of stealth, only coming up after Illya in the abandoned grocery store that hides the safehouse's entrance after a couple minutes have passed.

It's only within the store that he finally asks, placing hand on a dusty, empty nearby shelf:] Where do you think you're going?

[Keith is early on in his symptoms, but within the dim lights of the store, he looks pale. Uncomfortable.

Deciding that he's definitely dealing with some sickness wouldn't be much of a reach.]

[evite]

[ irritable. moody. grouchy. quick to temper, easy to rile. it's like the bad side effects of new birth control, hormonal surges that leave daisy feeling like she's a gun half-cocked and fully loaded. the apartment is blissfully quiet when she wakes, but even still, the coffee maker manages to annoy her with its high-pitched buzzing. she sweeps a hand out to irritably quake it into silence, but instead of quiet and the gentle slide of plastic against metal countertops, she's rewarded with a harsh burst of souped up heartburn. it's enough to slide minor annoyance into outraged offense — one that's only tempered by the satisfying crunch of small appliance meeting the wall. serves it right. if it didn't want to be a hunk of junk, it shouldn't have pissed her off. ]

001 — on the street (open)

[ that goes for people, too. on the ground tram, in the office, or even just at the grocery store, daisy's quick to lash out at anyone who so much as looks at her wrong. which, as it turns out, a lot of people seem to do. maybe it's her too-short hair; maybe it's her last-season thrift shop getup; maybe it's the fact that she's throwing cans into her cart like they're bombs she's trying to set off — whatever the reason, getting through her day-to-day proves to be a little (okay, a lot) more obnoxious than she'd expected.

people are fucking stupid, did you know that?

it only gets worse as the day goes on. she tries to push on, to get through the day, but it's no use. halfway through a meeting, the sound of some smug-faced middle manager mansplaining the concept of virtual private networks to her sends a swell of white-hot outrage through her so fast it's all she can do to resist upending the entire conference table into his arrogant, white bread face.

are you feeling okay? maybe you should take the rest of the day off.

sure, it's more punishment than reward, but she doesn't argue. no, she goddamn books it outside, because she has places to be, things to accomplish, and —

did you just fucking bump into her? ]

What is your fucking problem?

002 — in the gym (closed)

[ she's too angry. it's like a drug, addictive and seductive; giving in to the impulse to bash someone's face into the pavement once means doing it over and over again, and while absolutely justified, daisy also doesn't think any of these random people are worth the assault charge. so, with perhaps the only logical thought she's had cross her head all day, she heads to the nearest gym. it's a bit of a hole-in-the-wall sort of place, dimly lit and without some of the plusher, more modern amenities of the nicer fitness centers in town, but it has a boxing ring. that's all she cares about.

opponent after opponent, male or female, big or tall; she doesn't care. she just wants to let her fists and feet fly, landing harder and harder punches into shoulders and sternums and jaws. sweat drips from her hairline, soaking the mesh and lycra of her jumpsuit, and the faint taste of copper hints at the split lip in the corner of her mouth. a reminder of the first asshole whose fist had made contact with her skin. (she'd particularly enjoyed knocking him out.)

eventually, though, there's a break. no one new steps up to the plate, leaving her with enough downtime to wipe her face clean, to grab a drink of water, and to — catch the eye of a man who won't stop staring, apparently. ]

Take a picture, asshole, it'll last longer.

[ does she know said asshole? maybe. does it matter? nope. ]

003 — at home (closed)

[ by the time her watch shows ten pm, the forces outnumber the fray. newly cured and the unaffected roam the streets like wild dogs, hunting the prey of those still with rage coursing through their veins. daisy knows what it's like to be hunted, and she doesn't want a goddamn lick of it. she can live with this, thank you very much.

she winds up at home — the apartment she's sharing with fitz and bobbi — just before the street lights go out. someone's struck a power line, taking the public works with it, and with the police and fire departments both all too busy rounding up the chattel, no one has time to turn them back on. works for her. she didn't want to see them anyway.

but she can't just sleep. she's too wound up, too agitated, too angry to sleep. so she paces, talking to herself, wearing a pathway in the ground from her boots. ]

#!&.

[ w-w-wildcard!!! if nothing in the above appeals to you, holler at your girl via pm / semicolons / carrier pigeon. you can also feel free to holler at miss johnson at her inbox for more lowkey shenanigans. ]

002 ofc

[kgbs]

Who says I already have not? [ he hasn't only because he is still not used to the technology that allows him to take photographs so easily. what he is used to are big, bulky cameras with film that takes several days to develop. ]

You do not appear to be in a good mood today. What has happened? Did someone finally prove to you that you are no good at checkers?

[ perhaps it is not nice to taunt someone when they are as angry as she seems but illya is not just anyone and, if she wants to lash out at him, he will defend himself. it would only be fair, would it not? ]

CONNOR, OTA.

[cyberlife]

1▸ OVER ROCK AND CHAIN

(it's hours later and connor's ready to drag himself up off of the pavement, rid himself of any residual aches with the reactivation of his ability, and chase down more friends and strangers in need of assistance. his goal is to pay it forward — noctis, who cured him of his insanity, wasn't asked to. he volunteered and was hurt by him in the process. but there's no way he can repay him by hiding out to hide his shame.

guilt will have its chance later. right now people need his help.

have you been spotted aggressing a local? have you picked a fight with the police officers in the area? do you have your angry sights set on connor himself, or are you of sound mind and simply trying to check to see if he's contributing to the violence himself? the battered and disheveled android's here to offer whatever needs to be offered. that may go hand-in-hand with experiencing the physical suffering he can't stand, but that's something he'll have to table until his power regurgitates whatever sensations he's been suppressing.

nothing will stop him from making the necessary grab for your wrist or shoulder, sick or not, aiming to surprise you with the transfer. even if he misses, his demands are spoken with calm finality:)

Slow down, take it easy—

2▸ OVER SUNSET PLAIN

A▹ OVER TRAP AND SNARE (CLOSED TO MARKUS)
(the ordinary day is spent destressing with markus at the local bar. it's shifty at nighttime, thanks to the poor area their budgets have them living in, but during the day it masquerades as a hole-in-the-wall. somewhere to go and eat with company before they clear the tables and leave bouncers at the door. they talk while they can over pub fare and a couple of drinks suggested to them by the waitstaff, one of whom lingers too long by their table and chats at them too casually—

connor knows that it's an opinion he'd never have, but it manifests like an itch beneath his collar and he blames it on their residual injuries from the fire and how busy the week's been.

until the heat starts to get to him and his tongue sits heavy in his mouth, gradual nausea making him shove his plate away from his chest. it clatters loudly into the edge of markus', his own error starting him out of his comfortable lean into a stiff-shouldered, straight-backed sit.)

This was a mistake. (he begins, shaking his head with a drop of his eyes.)

B▹ WHEN YOU’RE IN TOO DEEP (CLOSED TO NOCTIS)
(the first notification that blips into life in the corner of his vision gets dismissed immediately. there's no time to check it, though, when there are duties to perform when he's in no state at all to do them. he saves lives in the workplace, testing their security, their safety, and their precautions. his demonstrations with hazardous materials are integral and he always sees to it the employees of each company leave with knowledge and experience.

only after the third interruption does connor manage to rip his attention away from his busted knuckles and the vice grip his fingers have on a jug of corrosive material ditched at the sight of one of the factory businesses along the downtown strip. long enough, at least, to gain a second's levity. it's all he needs.

the latest text from noctis forces him to drop the hazardous chemical to the floor, hands in violent shakes raising to drag through his hair. there's a rough exhale, a grind of teeth. not him, not now. focus.)

Don't come here. I'm not well.

3▸ WILDCARD, PLUS NOTE

(options under 2 are unavailble — everything else is fair game. including medical attention et all, since he'll be abusing his abilities. feel more than free to slap me with a random scenario!

hit me up anytime at frooting or on discord at frugivorous#0874.)

rk battle

[saviorexe]

[Something is wrong.

Like needles under his skin. Markus can feel it — has felt it for a while yet — knows that something isn’t quite aligning around him, or in himself. But it’s fine, maybe it’s just how the day is going, maybe tomorrow will be better both mentally and physically, even with the droning on of a waitstaff that lingers too long, even with with a drink that seems made shoddily, even with Connor, whose plate bumps into his own.

(The sounds it makes, sharp and startling. It grates at him.)

The individual serving them seems to pause in surprise at the gesture. Markus feels a different kind of surprise, the kind held tightly by a sheen of annoyance. Eyes dart over to Connor.]

What was a mistake? Eating?

stephanie brown | ota

[quipper]

1 / HEROING

[ You can take the girl out of Gotham, but you can’t take the Gotham out of the girl. Steph catches the first punch thrown her way with relative ease, grip tightening on a man's arm. Are you sure you wanna do this? she quips lazily, the corner of her mouth hooking into a smile (sometimes she loves a fight, aight). Her free hand drifts to clutch at her thigh holster — only, holy crap, she sure it isn’t wearing her go-go-gadgets. 

No biggie. She can do this old school.

As soon as the trouble begins, Steph leaps to assist anyone. Throughout the day, you can team up with her to deliver the cure anywhere in New Amsterdam:
a. With all the chaos, she opts to grab a bite on-the-go around midday, only to enter her restaurant of choice just as a patron gets a piping-hot pizza to the face.
b. Two suits tussle on the pedestrian bridge across the river, with one guy in danger of going over the edge, pushed against the side.
c. Insert any other scenario that strikes your fancy! ]

2 / AFTERMATH

[ By the evening, Steph has accrued bruises (a shiner on her cheek and a few colourful spots on her arms), but nothing debilitating. Her last encounter — Batgirl versus Gym Bro, a match-up for the ages — earned her a punch to the gut, but it hadn’t hurt. With a practiced finesse, she followed the force of the hit and caught her balance, swiftly bringing a leg ‘round to knock him over and pin him from there. Something popped in the process, too, maybe her elbow, but it slid right back in. Handled! a protein-heavy bug diet and some serious gains don't make you a tough guy. She trained with Batman, Black Bat, Black Canary, Oracle — and she’s the goddamn Batgirl.

Only a sudden throbbing pain interrupts her walk back to the safehouse, and she stumbles to a halt, clutching her stomach. It wouldn’t have stopped her in a dustup, but the unexpected ache there now is disorientating. In the minute she takes to assess the damage, another jolt shoots through her left arm, emanating from her elbow.

This time, she reacts, swinging her right hook at nothing. ]

[ Through gritted teeth, ] I don’t do invisibles.

[ Invisible or too-fast-for-the-eye jackasses, that is. ‘Cause someone’s attacking her. She whirls on her heels, searching for movement. A familiar face from the safehouse greets her. But it couldn’t have been them, right? ]

3 / WILDCARD.

[ Just do your thing or hmu here + on plurk (locution) for something special! Steph is available to try/fail/succeed at curing people and will be lounging in the safehouse that night, nursing her wounded pride. She can also use her pain relief power to give someone a physical boost. ]

A HUNDRED GIRLS WOULD KILL FOR THAT BLOUSE / CLOSED.

[quipper]

[ The day starts nice, so they really oughta be suspicious. Nothing but sunshine, fresh air, and quippy, sensible young women. See, Steph already likes Kate. They vibe, unlike pretty much everyone at Gotham U. Breakfast goes swimmingly, although it tastes less sugary then Steph had hoped. (The future of waffles, man, what a bummer.) At least their waitress tips them off to a sample sale later that morning. And while she isn’t fussy about her looks, Steph recognizes it as an opportunity to find local gear for higher level camouflage.

Plus, she’d rock the cute asymmetric crop tops that people love around here. Just saying.

Enter a converted warehouse filled with racks and tables of local designs, bustling with all sorts of people. They even have to queue to get in, which means Steph has time to dust off her Miranda Priestly impression and snort-laugh in the line. Within half an hour, Steph has an eco-friendly cloth tote (the 2511 standard) — plain, so she can decorate it later — loaded up with cheap finds. A tinted purple raincoat, sturdy boots, two crop tops because she has self-control, thanks. Bright-eyed, she reaches for a light jacket, the perfect final purchase, when a gal latches a hand on her wrist, bangles jingling with the sudden movement.

“I just don’t think it’s your colour,” comes as a warning, paired with a cutting smile. Oh, nuh-uh.

A few steps from them, two guys are dead-locked over a pair of boots, waiting for the other to back down. Although her expression sours, Steph’s retort is delayed by a shouting match breaking out between the boot-boys. She doesn’t know what Kate can handle, but she suspects it’s more than the average shopper, if her knowledge of the multiverse and tolerance for brooding Waynes is any indication of her fortitude. ]

It is too early to call this one — [ Directed over her shoulder at Kate, even as she hears the thwack of a boot being used to bludgeon someone’s head. ] — a crime of fashion?

bobbi morse | mcu: aos

[covertness]

1 / THE CURE (exposition version)

[ what happens is this: someone gets disproportionally annoyed at bobbi bumping shoulders with him on the side walk. bobbi's first instinct isn't to hold his hand or otherwise initiate skin contact. her first instinct is to solve the situation with words, to talk her way out of it. her second instinct is to block the punch that comes and her third is not to block it because she'll give away too much. she ducks instead, the flying fist barely missing her, and puts up her hands. ]

Wow. You don't really want to do that. [ it's a statement of fact, though it might come across as a question to a bystander. the blue glow that comes with the words is largely hidden by her clothing, specifically chosen for the task because that's another thing she doesn't want to give away. ] No. [ says the guy that nearly punched her through clenched teeth. ] I don't want to do that. [ but he still draws back for another punch and bobbi lifts her hands in return, reaching out, trying to seem like she's cajoling instead of restraining.

and that's how she learns of the cure. ]

2 / THE CURE (actual action)

[ once she's figured it out, once she's confirmed her suspicions, bobbi makes sure to seek out people that seem affected, in particular those she knows, or at least those she knows to be amongst the group of abductees, same as her. ]

Hey. [ she'll greet, soft and easy, stepping up to someone who seems just a little too angry and reaching out, deliberately putting a hand on their arm. ] Can I talk to you for just a sec?

[ she might also say something along the lines of don't be mad, the blue glow that comes with using newfound powers again hidden beneath her clothing. she's not sure it actually does much of anything to counteract the anger, but she's trying. ]

3 / PLANS AND SCHEMES

[ they have a cure and there are reports coming in of attacks, of hostage incidents that the napd are unable to resolve, of people being wounded on the streets. bobbi knows she should be out there, helping. she also knows she can't be too gung-ho about it because katelin philips wouldn't be, because katelin philips doesn't have bobbi morse's confidence that she can defend herself, that she won't get hurt.

besides, there's only so much one person can do. so bobbi stops by the safehouse with the intention not just of seeing if there is anyone still in need of curing, but to talk to those who've already been cured, those with the capacity of helping. she's positioned herself in front of the tv, head tipped to one side a little. ]

Shouldn't we be out there? [ she sounds a little hesitant. worried. ]

4 / WILDCARD

[ anything goes!! ]

closed to fitz.

[covertness]

[ bobbi hasn't said anything about the car. there are lines that shield agents don't cross and then there are many lines that they do and sometimes, the ends do justify the means. this is one of the lines that's fine to cross and one of those cases. they're faster than they would be on foot, fitz driving and bobbi on look-out. ]

There.

[ some people are running, others flocked together, a crowd that's clearly scared if its movements are anything to go by. scared and still there, dumbfounded. crowds are strange things. ]

kate bishop | ota

[fledges]

001 - streets

[This is the sort of chaos Kate has learned to thrive in, for better or for worse. It's a side effect of the job, so even as reports come out about the violence escalating and things go utterly off the rails, she doesn't fall back to the safehouse. In fact, she puts herself right in the middle of it, keeping to the more populated areas of the city and trying to help wherever she can.

It doesn't take long for Kate to hear about the "cure", and soon enough she's tried it out herself with some success. That gives her a new strategy, though she still finds herself desperately wishing for some of Clint's stupid net arrows as things start to get dicier.

Now Kate's found herself between two people, one of whom is definitely affected and one of whom, she's starting to suspect, is just a massive asshole. She has her hands up placatingly.]

Look, guys, just take it easy. In a bit you're going to feel really—

[The man she's facing swings at her, impulsive and sloppy, and Kate dodges it, making a face.]

Stupid.

[She makes a grab for the man's bare arm, but it's just her luck that there's a small crowd gathering, and not all of them look particularly calm. Things could get out of control fast.]

ii - later

[Kate's managed to get a few bruises and scrapes for her troubles, including a nice split lip, and she's looking a little worn out. When she spots someone she recognizes from the safehouse, vaguely or not, her relief is obvious.]

Oh, God, tell me you're sane and you're not going to try to break my nose.

iii - wildcard me!

CLOSED

[fledges]

[Towards the end of the day, Kate has the enviable experience of having to waltz back into the safehouse covered in blood. There's a decent amount of it, soaked into her clothing and drying on her arms, and though she's done a quick job of washing it off of her hands, there's still a smear on one cheek. She's a mess, and she looks exhausted.

Of course things only get worse when she nearly slams right into Damian on her way to the showers. She nearly stumbles backing up, nose wrinkling.]

Uh. Hi.

[She looks totally casual and chill, right?]

[crisised]

1 / HOLD OUT FOR A HERO.

[ times like these, kara can't just sit by and do nothing. it's just not in her. doesn't matter that she doesn't have her powers, or any equipment, she has to go out and help. problem is, she's pretty sure going out and playing superhero will get her in trouble if she's not careful. so she covers up. wears something with a hood and covers the bottom of her face with a scarf when she's about to get into a scuffle.

and, oh boy, are there scuffles.

it's a good thing she's had combat training. also a good thing that she's spent the past year without her powers. means she doesn't get overwhelmed as easily when someone with a lot of rage and a lot of adrenaline decides to take it out on her. there's a couple easy places to find her:
- getting in between one person and the target of their misplaced rage
- outside a store, trying to figure out how to break up a three-way fight, huffing in frustration and then being very surprised when the lights from the store seem to get pulled out and into the hand she's curling into a fist
- generally sticking her nose in everybody's business even at risk to herself.

sometimes it ends up with her coming out obviously on top. sometimes she could use a hand, if you're willing to lend one. ]

2 / FRESH FROM THE FIGHT.

[ bruised and sore from a long day of doing that which she loves, kara meanders back into the safehouse, hood down and scarf now draped more like a shawl than a mask. she heads to the showers first and spends a truly ridiculous amount of time under the hot water. (rao, does she miss not having muscle aches like this.) she catalogs her scrapes and growing bruises. scrubs off the little bits of dried and flaking blood.

from there, it's to the kitchen to grab... something. anything that's around that she can grab because fuck is she hungry after a long day. she doesn't exactly watch where she's going on the way there or from there to her cot (where she is going to stretch and then lay down because ugh being able to be tired still sucks) so there's a few jostling of elbows. a few mumbled apologies. ]

Sorry, sorry. Just moving through.

3 / WILDCARD.

[ hit me up with whatever you like or ping me on plurk (chanterie) if you wanna plot something specific!! ]

1

[secondnature]

[Unlike Kara, most of Keith's disguises in the past have served a singular purpose: be a rebel agent and hide, and be prepared to be thrown into space. Be a paladin. Or just try to steal Shiro without starting a trail for someone to follow him. (Needless to say, that last one wasn't a very big degree of success.) He doesn't know who's wearing this particular set of disguises when he drops in while a pair of guys—who seriously look like they could be bouncers at a club—are giving her a rough time.

He doesn't know if they're doing it because of what's happening, but the way it's happening, with everyone being rash enough? Yes, it seems like it's because they can't help themselves.]

One of you should fight me. [It's not the most clever opening to keep them off of her, but Keith isn't really the "clever openings" kind of guy, at least most of the time. And right now, he wants to help: if someone's helped him feel better, it's only fair that he pays it forward.]