TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[neosapienmods]

JANUARY TEST DRIVE

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1: SPRAWLING WASTELAND, GLOWING IN THE DARK

No sunlight reaches the Underground, but there is rain: grey, oily droplets that slowly trickle down from the city above, seeping through layers of concrete until they drip from broken light fixtures onto the aptly named black markets below. The glow of neon signs keeps the shadows at bay, just barely. What was once a system of utility tunnels and basement bunkers is now a warren of tiny shops offering reprogrammed ID chips and back-alley cybernetic upgrades, where hitmen and slave traders operate with lawless impunity. But someone is always watching... the eyes of Yakashbah, graffitied in bioluminescent paint, stare unblinking from the walls.

People come to this place for only two reasons: they're either looking for something, or they're trying not to be found. Whatever your reason, the Underground welcomes you.

2: A MIND OF DARKNESS, A HEART OF LIGHT

Outside of manicured parks and glass-enclosed vertical farms, green space is rare in New Gate City, so the elites flaunt their wealth in private rooftop gardens. Fragrant, exotic flowers bloom amidst strings of lanterns, and real grass - an extravagant luxury - carpets the ground beneath partygoers' feet as they sip champagne and admire the dark cityscape below. Tonight, one of the Douman Zaibatsu's myriad charity organizations hosts its annual fundraising gala... but this year, the special guests attract even more attention than the celebrities and fashionistas in attendance. Representatives from the Neo Sapien Organization have been invited to speak on the topic of Human/Meta-human relations, and to raise money on behalf of job placement programs for impoverished Metas in the Last Ward. Of course, most within the Douman Zaibatsu would prefer that these "job placement programs" send Metas to the farms far outside New Gate City (or better yet, to the lunar strip mines), but at least for tonight, members of both factions hide behind false smiles and false words.

3: AS FEAR'S REPLICATING, YOUR WORDS RESONATING

Someone gasps, and everyone looks up. Arcadia's central shopping district goes silent, save for the distant sound of pop tunes played over tinny speakers, as a massive black banner unfurls down the side of a building. A crudely drawn eye fills the banner, bisected by a line of white paint... the unofficial symbol of the Meta rights movement. People start to whisper, and somewhere, there's a cheer. Police drones buzz through the air above.

Meta rights protests aren't uncommon in this part of New Gate City, even though they're soon dispersed by local security forces. This banner, too, will be quickly taken down and destroyed, but the photos and videos of the event will be harder to suppress. Already, the bystanders are murmuring to each other, some in support and some in fear. Others keep their heads down, wary of expressing their true feelings about the rising numbers of Meta-humans. And as security forces move to block off the area, others are frantically trying to disappear.

4: A NEW HOPE GLISTENS OFF THE STREETS

The blocks surrounding the Neo Sapien Organization's headquarters in the Middle Ward are like an oasis at the center of an otherwise inhospitable city. Old buildings have been renovated into bright and cheerful apartments that accommodate a variety of Meta-human physiologies, Meta schools and Meta-owned businesses are flourishing, and Meta-friendly shops and cafes line the streets.

The best coffee in the Middle Ward can be found at The Mean Bean, just across from the NSO building, where the shop's fire-breathing Meta owner personally roasts every batch. NSO employees and and other patrons of the popular cafe congregate to discuss local news and gossip: a proposed Meta registration and identification law, rumors of vigilante gangs near the border with the Last Ward, and rivalries between NSO university sports teams. Arguments occasionally grow heated (especially when it comes to sports), but overall the atmosphere is friendly and congenial.

5: WITHIN THE CHAOS, I KNOW I'M NOT ALONE

The Last Ward's electrical grid is reliably unreliable, but blackouts on this scale are rare. Half the ward has been dark for the past three days, save for a few emergency generators and dwindling battery backups. As winter winds batter old, drafty concrete apartment blocks, the residents grow restless and frustrated. Police have already put down several riots, but there's no stopping the spike in looting and other petty crimes.

In the Parish, many people have opted to barricade themselves inside their homes until the blackout ends, but others are taking advantage of the chaos. Most, though, have chosen to band together to protect each other throughout the long nights. The people of the Parish may not have much, but at least they have a sense of community.

Comments

[fibrillate]

2. brother right here we're livin' it

A case of mistaken identity. That's all. That's all Leviathan will say if anybody from the elite class approaches them and says that they remind them of that long-dead Carassia daughter. It's part of the reason Levi has clouded over their glasses tonight; the resemblance is mostly in their eyes now. And as long as they don't meet anybody who knew Hope when she was "alive", they shouldn't run into any issues. The classy tuxedo they've put on, even if the top couple buttons of their undershirt are open, should defer most questions.

Those in the ruling class will be engaging with Leviathan talking politely, demurely. Behaving themself as they try to discuss the benefits of allowing Meta-humans among the Central Ward—should any exist, of course—to attend education and training programs with the Organization. Feeding them a mostly-garbage story about how they grew up with parents who didn't understand Meta-humanity, but who had heard about the NSO and allowed the Organization to provide Levi with a safe place to develop and grow and learn.

The other ambassadors probably know by now that Levi is at least partially full of shit, and they'll waste no time sharing that sentiment with their companions once they get a moment of privacy. Once they're among colleagues, the schmoozing turns into a hushed whisper and grumblings about how the Central Ward can afford to fund the NSO for years if they'd just stop thinking Meta-humans are something to shove under the carpet and ignore. They fire off a few sparks against their champagne flute and drink deep, and maybe nobody notices their demeanor now that they're not on a pedestal. Who knows? Who cares.

4. and we will always raise them up

We enter on a theymer chilling at one seat of an open four-top in the Mean Bean. Usually Levi is an energy drink kind of person, but they're fresh out of gamer fuel and besides, they like this coffee shop. They've got the day off and they're planning on spending it getting their Future Overwatch game even tighter, and they're gonna need caffeine for that. Not a bad time to catch up with people while they plan out the best place to go to discharge the energy that they're gonna build up from drinking this.

Their glasses are clear and they're actually smiling once they've had a few sips, and right now they're almost feeling like a real-ass person. "What's up?" they ask casually to the first person they recognize. (Or maybe they just think they recognize them.) "You got any big plans for today?"

((here's levi's AU workshop comment in case you wanna know the kind of people they'd know, or their whole deal in general))

[burndownforwhat]

(2 - I don't have a title for this one here's Yang in a suit (x))
[ Yang did always say she wished that people could just behave in a more diplomatic fashion when it came to nurturing relations between the DZ, Meta-humans, and etc. and... plants. Yang has a soft spot for nature, and her own experiences to offer as having worked on those selfsame farms that take for granted. mind you, the operation she was born into was trying to keep the environment as "pure" as possible - which includes casting her out when her own powers manifested. so she's spent some time trying to talk to anyone who'd lend her an ear about what that kind of life was like, how she felt about the experience. but she knows that most aren't even listening to her. what's the opposite of lip service. ear service? whatever. it's like that.

after a while, Yang drifts away from the main crowd, reaches for a glass of water rather than a champagne flute and just sort of hangs out at the fringes. staring at the flowers. maybe she did so alone, or maybe she's just now heading someone approach from behind. they wouldn't be the first to try and coax her to rejoin the gathering but before they've spoken the words she's got one of two lines ready for them: ]

(A) This is... really not my kind of scene.

(B) They're beautiful, aren't they?

(C) Sheesh. They told me there'd be dancing... I should have asked what kind, huh.


(3 - you know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start)
[ as the trample of armored boots grows louder, the flicker of red and blue lights against the walls brighter, Yang can feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise. there's always that tension in the air before a fight. in a one-on-one bout she feels it in a more subdued way. you know the face of your opponent. lines are drawn. sometimes, there are even rules. in a bar room brawl things are less defined, and the catalyst that puts the scene in motion is just as much the words being thrown this way and that as it is the alcohol (or worse) pumping in their veins. lines are blurrier. there are fewer rules, more surprises.

here, on the street, the rules are crystal clear. those who enforce them can be heard loud and clear now, telling the crowd to clear so they can dismantle the display. "disperse, for your own safety." that's right. their safety. the threat is pretty clear. step out of line, step over the boundary, and those enforcers becoming punishers. it's within their rights. the lines are bold and bright. some choose to toe the line; others tow it; some yet still challenge the authorities on their lethal game of tug-of-war.

somewhere, there's the sound of shattering glass. could have been a window. a bottle. someone's phone. doesn't matter. the sound pierces the ruckus of the crowd and there's a moment of stillness in its wake. Yang isn't sure if that's real or in her mind. a vacuum of noise before an explosion. figurative. literal. didn't matter. they - she and the one she's with - were just having a good time and now this had to interrupt their night.

she clutches her metal fingers over their hand. tosses her perfectly good soda into the nearby bin. the clang of the metal on metal causes her to wince. ]

We need to get out of here. Now.


(4 - let's be alone together)
[ it's no surprise that Yang would hang out at the Mean Bean. flames of a feather burn brighter together, or something. she's gotten a fair share of insight from the owner on creative uses of her pyrokinesis. non-violent applications. it's also just a good place to relax, pore over some technical manuals or a fantasy novel, pump some of that caffeination into inspiration for the next iteration of her creative mechanical designs. she's got her tablet clutched in the fingers of her mechanical hand, and the other is holding the underside of her mug. there's a faint red glow to the skin of her left hand's fingers and fresh steam rising off the top of her coffee. who needs a mug warmer, anyway?

(A) sometimes it's nice to just sit quietly with someone who's doing their own thing at the other side of the table. two people enjoying their company in silence.

(B) other times, it's not her mug that she's holding, but her friend's. which she now places in front of them with a smile. ] Here you go. All charged up.

[ (C) and just maybe she has just finished sketching up her latest innovation. Yang scoots her chair in closer to the other side of the table and turns the tablet to face her companion, all bright-eyed. ] So, what do you think? I call it the "Rocket Fist". [ it's as cool as it sounds. and as impractical. ]


(5 - all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach)
[ one doesn't have to tell Yang "walking space heater" Xiao Long twice what her job is when news of a blackout comes along. whether it's cuddling up in the dark and cold with one (or multiple) people to stave off the cold, going around house-to-house fixing up water boilers, generators, or old-fashioned stoves, or just playing watchdog, she's here to protect the affected from all the dangers of the dark; be they the cold, or something more sinister. even if all she needs to do is share a little warmth, a little light, that is more than enough for her. ]



((OOC: some of these are kinda vague so if you want to plan something out I'm game, but I'll also roll with anything you throw at me. AU workshop comment is also available, and you can ping me on cidriel or this journal if you want to hash stuff out!))

[ord_is]

A: A MIND OF DARKNESS, A HEART OF LIGHT

Ordis is nominally on party security, slowly wandering though the crowds to help keep an eye on things, although not visibly armed in any way.

Of course security should be a silent presence, cool and reassuring. But Ordis is a friendly sort, and every so often gets the feeling that some light discussion might help ease the sometimes tense atmosphere a little. Or maybe you look at him a little too long for one reason or another, which Ordis interprets as an opportunity to chitchat.

He sighs wistfully, the faintest electronic echo to his voicebox. "Isn't it lovely? Exciting, too, to see so many celebrities here. Oh, my word! Isn't that fellow from the Love, Simon remake? I must say, I thought he was fantastic in that film."

Is security robot(?) soliciting your opinion on celebrities? Well, it's at least staying out of the more tense meta discussions, that's for sure!



B. AS FEAR'S REPLICATING, YOUR WORDS RESONATING


Ordis looks up, and although his helmet doesn't show emotions, his worry is apparent from voice alone.

"Oh dear."

"Please, sir, madam, it would be best for you to vacate the premises temporarily. There may be disturbances in the area and Ordis would hate to see anyone get injured."

That's not a veiled threat or anything, despite the corporate security logo stamped into Ordis' glistening white plating. He sounds quite genuinely concerned, adding to his words a delicate little shoo-ing motion with his hands, a little incongruous relative to his six-foot polished robot chassis.

4

[lightnovelexperiences]

"Need to pull a graveyard shift at the Tote-Em-Snax," Jess sighs over her depth charge and bagel, temporarily having morphed back her ears and a single tail in this safe space. She's going for blonde today, fennec colors. Not to be confused with the bright red and cream of the vigilante of many tails, Yeowoo. "Bringing in a new shipment, new rice bowls, another case of the tie-in potions for LMAO. Which was your favorite again, Mana or Health?"

She rolls her neck - completely unnecessary given her biokinetic powers, but it feels better and it's less lossy to manipulate her muscles naturally. "Bright side is that leaves me free from 10 AM to start of shift. I have some errands to run -" in costume, in the Last Ward - "But that means 4-8 I can be online. What are you game for?"

B

[lightnovelexperiences]

The metahuman pauses. She's in costume, something skintight and protective in mostly gold with some cyan and magenta accents; a gold mask is over her eyes.

Her many red tails spiral behind her, a tell for anxiety. One large triangular ear is locked directly onto Ordis, while the other scans for threats or screams for help. She hasn't morphed in claws, not yet.

"So would I," she answers, honestly. "But I have a metahuman healing talent, and a job to do. Will that be a problem?"

[sea_salty]

3.

Lapis is very much one of the sort that would rather disappear, to keep her head down and get out of the area as quickly as possible, to keep her blue skin hidden under her hooded jacket. Even as she does so every part of her is screaming at her to run but she dare not go faster than a brisk walk or risk making herself look guilty - the very last thing she wants.

And of course, try and keep the panic rising within her from overwhelming her. The only thing she'll have to say is that she just wants to get out of the area before something happens... but it's hard to ignore the growing sense of impending doom.

4
For pretty obvious reasons, Lapis is not used to even the Middle Ward, even this was a far cry from the Parish. Even so she wasn't the most sociable type, preferring to keep to herself even in the Mean Bean. Yes, she's doing the moody 'sit in a corner and brood' bit except given that there's no dark corners to hide in, she kind of fails at it. And she's just the sort outgoing busybodies like to bother when she'd prefer to drink coffee in silence.

No such luck today, someone already decides to speak to her. "Look, I'm... not much for conversation."

[lightnovelexperiences]

2 - I hold on to the notion/there's another story left to tell
Jessica is uncomfortable in this place. Nobody tell anyone that her pink and gold hanbok is actually repurposed cosplay of her vigilante's namesake, LMAO's very own Vulpine Vampire. She's a white chick, what is she even doing in a hanbok, this was a terrible idea...

Seeing some of those Zaibatsu slime make reassuring noises with no substance - or worse, hiding capitalist malice - focuses her, makes her snarl for a second. She has a job to do here. She focuses on being who she is, on being personable and coquettish and out and proud, and she starts her spiel:

"Hello, yes! My name is Jess. These -" (She wiggles her large, triangular fox ears) "- are only a more obvious manifestation of my talent. I'm a biokinetic - I have perfect priopriception, and can do limited shapeshifting and healing. Ask me anything!"

3 - I've been dreaming of a savior/to pull me from this lonely place
This could get ugly. Which is why Yeowoo is on the scene in her skintight armored suit - gold, mostly, with cyan and magenta hilights and a face-concealing domino mask. Rather than the one tail and the two blonde fennec ears, she's gone red fox with many tails - all prehensile, the better to restrain the violent with.

A police drone is taking pictures of the nonviolent protesters, and preparing to fire beanbag rounds. That won't do. She leaps out, using her biokinesis to shapeshift on the fly, make her jump impossibly powerful - and she plucks the drone out of the sky, before ripping it's weapons apart with her claws. She makes sure she's very visible to the crowd before addressing its camera:

"Firing on peaceful protesters is still illegal - despite your best efforts. You'd do well to remember that."

Before ripping the rest of it to shreds. This is, hopefully, what they call 'drawing aggro' in the gamer terms; with any luck the drones eyes are on her now...

4 - Buried beneath the motion of life/I never stop to question why
Jess is in her usual gamerwear - she insists on a skirt and the one tail as well as her "Valiant Anima: Starlight Crusaders" magical girl t-shirt - nursing a hot chocolate with whip, a chocolate croissant, and a sleep dep hangover. Being Yeowoo last night was totally worth it but it's wreaking havoc on her sleep schedule.

When she sees a friend she gives them a 40-watt wave and a half-lidded smile.

"Heyhey. I need to catch some sleep at home after this, but I'll totally be available at like. Five-six until my shift at ten. How's life treating you?"

5 - It's all clearer now/and I hear her now
Hospitals and clinics are losing power. This is fatal neglect. Manslaughter if not murder. Yeowoo snarls.

She leaps into a darkened hospital and goes straight for intensive care, making sure to morph away her claws as she goes - and maybe revert her face to something cuter, rather than her fearsome battle visage. When she arrives, it's as a bouncy, cherubic heroine with the most common heroine's superpower, and she holds up her hands and smiles.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here to help. I'm a medic, with healing powers. I need to touch you to use them; may I have permission?"

[ord_is]

"Ordis would be concerned if you, yourself, were caught up in events and mistaken for some kind of- of- vigilante," he adds, with polite but obvious disgust for the idea, akin to finding dog poo on an otherwise impeccably trimmed lawn.

The costume says it all really, but he's trying, here. He is 99.9% certain he would prefer to avoid conflict if at all possible, so avoiding thinking about the obvious conclusion to be drawn. "You can be assured that anyone in need of care will be given medical treatment. You assistance is not required at this time."

It's not really an assurance he's too certain about, at least if he's not there, but again, he's trying.

[lightnovelexperiences]

"I really can't be," she says. "Historically, the authorities never seem to get to the very poor. So."

She's going to turn tails and head in. It's likely Ordis will feel obligated to try and stop her, but. She had to try the peaceful way.

"I'm doing nothing illegal. Don't get in my way, I won't get in yours."

[ord_is]

"You are putting yourself in considerable danger," he protests, moving quickly to put himself in her path, the anxious flickering of little pattern of light on his helmet the only visible emotional indicator. "Please reconsider. At the very least, once others are away from the area-- perhaps Ordis could escort you. As a reassurance."

It's not metas that he has a problem with, or the idea of her healing anyone that is hurt in possible protests arising (although surely taking them to hospital would be better?). But any kind of vigilante action is simply unacceptable, and if he could keep an eye on her, that would be fine, wouldn't it?

[lightnovelexperiences]

As if most of them could afford hospitals.

"I am aware of the danger. And where it comes from."

She thinks for a moment.

"Fine. Come with me if you have to. I promise if you see someone doing something illegal, it won't be me. But what will you do if it's the Zaibatsu caught in the act?"

[ord_is]

"Ordis is quite sure there will be no such thing," he scoffs, a little haughtily. "Very well, let us go then."

Or if technically illegal, it could only be justifiable, for some reason or other. He loved everybody else working for the Zaibatsu. Surely nobody working there would do anything wrong.

It was really not something he should even think about. Another topic, perhaps, as he follows along beside her. "The colors of your outfit are very... unexpected. My sensors are - bleeding - pleased." His voice glitches midsentence, just a single stutter-y and distorted word interjected before continuing as if nothing had happened at all. "A personal selection?"

[lightnovelexperiences]

"I'm sure."

That glitch is... interesting... but she doesn't know what it means.

Discussing her sartorial choices are indeed a much safer topic. "I always preferred the pastel primaries," she confirms. "The subtractive primaries. As long as I was going to don a mask and bright colors, they would be those ones."

She looks at his chassis. It was clearly designed by someone with a sense of style. "I'm guessing that's not an off-the-rack model, either. Your choice, or a practical one?"

3 //// please forgive the lack of appropriate icons

[repeatafterme]

[The dark-haired figure had been polite enough company, for someone wearing a mask that hid their expression. Androgynous, every bit of skin below their neck was covered by some form of clothing, but perhaps that wouldn't be strange in a place like this. They introduce themselves as Lye, and they'd been cheerfully chatting with Yang about the the local scene up to the point the banner had put an abrupt end to the conversation.]

"Oh?" [The voice is synthesized through the mask, and even as their head turns back towards Yang, it's hard to tell just where they're looking.] "You seem particularly concerned."

[Nothing about their demeanor has changed. They're still cheerful - almost cocky. And clearly wondering if there's anything else to Yang's sudden unease than the obvious.]

[rhapsodomancy]

2. the gossip dont start til i walk in
[For many people, an event like this is a spark of hope in the darkness, a suggestion that just maybe there are still people with empathy enough to welcome even those deemed dangerous and inhuman. While demonstrators hand out badges at ground level- they seem quaint next to the technological marvel of this district- wealthier protestors stick to slogans and cheques, but not everyone in attendance has quite such lofty ambitions as the opening of hearts and minds. Shakespeare is, as usual, right in the middle of everything and waiting for the tension he knows very well is lurking beneath to come to a head.

Just how someone with his intensely confusing relationship to Meta-human rights got an invitation is anyone's guess. For all intents and purposes, he's a supporter of their cause, a loud- and often abrasive- voice in their corner of the media but there's no denying that his style of writing is sensationalist. Shakespeare, by his own admission, doesn't particularly care how far his duties as a journalist and fiction writer cross and it isn't always for the best. Sometimes, it can be downright counterproductive.

Regardless, he's made an effort to look professional tonight, champagne in one hand as he scrolls through his phone with the other. With the guest list he had "acquired", he's able to quickly match names to faces and lock down who might provide the most interesting story or conversation. So, whether you're someone important, interesting looking or not on the list at all- tsk, tsk- he might pull you aside at some point, smile bright.]

Would you spare me a moment of your time? I'm writing a piece on this event.

[Or perhaps, later on in the evening or if he thinks someone will give him an interesting reply-]

Ah, how this world is given to lying! If I only believed half of what I heard today, I'd still be a fool.

please forgive the lack of appropriate icons thank

[repeatafterme]

[The figure has an interesting juxtaposition; a professional style of dress that covers everything from the neck down, and a mask that hides their expression. They seem more interested in the greenery than anything else, but a careful observer could tell that they're paying just as much attention to the goings-on as the garden. So when Shakespeare approaches, they glance up without a trace of surprise in their body language, merely cocking their head at him before speaking in a voice that's clearly synthesized through the mask-]

"And what can I do for you?"

[rulerblade]

1 - We've long outgrown hide and seek (CW: drugs, underage dealer)

[A lesson Tooi has learned early on in life is "Never shit where you eat". So, frankly, the fact that he's down in the Underground at all means he's doing business, and nothing else. He makes himself difficult to find on purpose, setting up shop through and beyond the darkened crevice between two storefronts at a branching path, with only a dim candle for light. His back is always to the wall, hoodie up and drawn over his head to hide most of his face and the weapons on his person. The idea is to keep things contained, to make your escape route as difficult as possible should you decide this kid offering you a cheap high is worth trying to cross. He knows this crevice well, he can get out if he needs to. But he'd rather not give up this spot so easily.

Looking for cheap stimulants? Something smokeable to attain a high? He doesn't have the powerful, deadly stuff, but Tooi can hook you up...for a price.]

4 - No use in playing pretend

[...What? Even a kid like him wants to be in a well-lit, dry place every once in a while. So sue him. As long as he looks and dresses clean enough, people won't know him from any other kid in this area.

Tooi is quiet as he listens to the conversations around him. Not surprisingly, it's soccer season, and everyone is prattling on about this or that team, the records of players, who looks like they're shaping up to break records...he schools his face into a tense sort of neutrality, sipping his small cup of hot tea sparingly so he won't have to leave just yet. Part of him is jealous that there are people in this world who can afford some measure of carefree life, to indulge in all of this trivia and good-natured argument. And the other...

Well, if he looks like he's leaning towards anyone mentioning any particular meta-human players, you're imagining it. Definitely. He's certainly not curious about any local university players. Absolutely not.]

5 - I know the depths of darkness well

I said you didn't have to watch me.

[How many times has he told his elderly neighbor this over the past two days? It was as if, without electricity, him venturing out of his apartment for a minute triggered her grandmother senses, and now he's been bustled into a carbon copy of his own single-room apartment covered in ratty knit doilies and...probably this woman's own hair, considering she's the most obvious meta-human Tooi had ever seen when he first moved in, what with looking like a large, upright cat and all. He's not afraid of the riots simmering outside - in fact, he'd been considering going looting when his neighbor had ensnared him - but this? Being stuck in here as Granny Catwoman invites in more and more neighbors on their floor, lights musty candles and sweetly asks him to be a dear and get her ration of mealy sugar out of the pantry so she can make some kind of snack for everyone? Torture.]

I'll be fine if I go. Just - it's fine, let me go home.

[Will anyone hear his plight? Or will you join your elderly host in insisting he stay inside?]

[(OOC: Tooi's current AU is here if you want to reference anything.)]

oh I forgot to say YOU'RE FINE don't worry about it c:

[burndownforwhat]

Yeah? [ she sucks in a quick breath. exhales slowly, then tries again, calmly. though Yang's eyes flit about, drawn toward the movement of the crowd. of the authorities. ] Who wouldn't be?

Someone went and soured the mood, and some people — [ she jerks her head off toward the nearest set of barricades being erected, to direct the flow of foot traffic into and out of the area. ] — they don't take kindly to that.

[ Yang came here to shop, to ask about the hot new movies coming out, new music. clothes. this was supposed to be a fun, relaxing day out. of all the ways for her conversation to be interrupted. ]

4-C

[fonewearl]

[Mirys had spent the past year being less-than-social to most, but some common interests had helped to make Yang's presence one of the more-tolerable ones, and made her someone that the girl was actually okay with being around on some occasions. As such, it hadn't taken too much to convince her to accompany the woman when coming here.]

Well, that's about as straightforward a name as ever. [She responds while straightening herself up in her own seat, to make it easier to lean in to actually take a look. After a few moments, part of the sketch starts to change in color, a bright red circle drawing itself around one specific part of the design.] Might wanna have some way to stabilize the wrist, though? The way it looks right now, you hit something at a bad angle, you might be looking at unnecessary stress or actual damage to it.

[After Yang's had a moment to look at the part that was circled, that circle disappears without so much as a trace.]

LMAO sall good

[repeatafterme]

[Lye hums softly, seeming to consider things. They take another look around, even as their processor races. A moment later, they seem to decide on a course of action, nodding once as they glance back at Yang]

"Follow me."

[Invitation rather than order, but a moment later? They're quickly moving in to the shifting crowd................and not away from the banner.]

[burndownforwhat]

[ Yang lingers just a moment because that was very much not the direction she wanted to go. but then again, the police were going to make this hard on everyone, no matter their connection to the events. it'd only be worse the longer they waited. sometimes, any action is better than standing around dumbfounded and fearful. ]

H-hey! Wait! [ she jogs the few paces to catch up, squeezing between those moving with the flow rather than against it. ]

[burndownforwhat]

[ Yang hadn't spoken with this man before, but did see him flitting about his own business. something about him seemed familiar but she can't quite place it on her tongue. he's far more mobile than most here. the whole gathered crowd feels more stagnant by comparison. Yang was, by all accounts, a nobody here. but apparently even the relatively unknown can rub elbows with the elite. just hopefully all that friction doesn't cause any discomfort.

Yang can't help but laugh some at such a statement. ]

Hah! Pretty sure no one's gonna appreciate being called out like that, buddy. [ this later part is murmured into her glass of water as she goes for a sip. ] You're not wrong, though...

[repeatafterme]

[The police are very much not going to take it easy on whomever they catch

but that involves being caught, first.

Lye displays a bit of odd behavior, at least from what Yang can see; they'll pause, watching something, then abruptly move again. In their CPU, the SQUIP is quickly calculating travel paths, odds and probability, behavior based on its own experiences in observing humanity - and with such, they're able to neatly avoid sight lines as they make their way in to an alley, climb up on to a dumpster, and jump on to a fire escape before starting to climb up.

The rooftop they're going to is a low one, but has excellent cover - both from above and below. It also gives an almost perfect view of the goings-on.

They hardly spare a glance for Yang, figuring she'll either manage to avoid the police as well - or serve as a distraction for its own movements. Either way. Not its problem.]

[burndownforwhat]

[ no matter how close they are to home turf (literally across the street from it), open use of powers is always risky business. the small applications always speak to Yang as a sign of comfort and trust. of feeling safe.

she doesn't point it out, but does hum as she considers that feedback. ]

Hmm! That's a good point. It can't be too stiff, though, or the impact could go right to the core of it? Probably. Depends on what it hits, I guess. [ that kind of forward thinking was a problem for Future Yang. also known as Practical Testing Yang.

though she does bring her right arm up, letting all the ball joints from the wrist on down go slack. the fingers waggle around hilariously when she gives the arm a little shake. ragdoll physics in action. ] Can't have it doing this in the air, though. That's just silly.

A

[idk_idk_idk]

"E-eh?" Huaisang jumps, nearly spilling his champagne. He's normally a fixture at Central's social and philathropic events, but tonight his drab green robes seem like a calculated effort to help him blend in with the oversized flower arrangements. He wasn't expecting to be noticed, much less spoken to. "I-is he? Oh, I think you're right..."

He jumps again when he realizes who addressed him: one of the faceless security androids patrolling the party. As the heir to a major food processing company under the Douman Zaibatsu, Huaisang has spent most of his life surrounded by security... but he's never known them to make idle conversation about teen romantic comedies, or really any sort of conversation at all. The strangeness of the situation brings a faint smile to his lips, and some of his tension dissipates. Gossip is familiar territory for Huaisang, unlike everything else about this party. "You know," he begins, snapping open a paper fan to hide the lower half of his face as he leans in for a conspiratorial whisper, "I heard he was dating his co-star! No wonder they had such good chemistry."