maskormenacelogs | [OPEN] Day of judgement, god is calling

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[OPEN] Day of judgement, god is calling

WHO: The imports and their newly-superpowered counterparts!
WHERE: Import Cities!
WHEN:09/12-09/23
WHAT: Imports take on a wealth of newly superpowered supervillains!! (See here for details) (If you have not responded, please feel free to still come and play!)
WARNINGS: Violence! Probably quite a bit of violence!

[ De Chima. Nonah. Maurtia Falls. Heropa.

Monday, September 12th, midday.

The first day was different. Sudden bursts of speed, someone had a temper tantrum and set a car on fire -- reports of children acting out of school and suddenly breathing fire on the playground. Chaos. Some helped out, as soon as they were able. Teenagers that were lifting their friends to get them out of danger, maybe taking on the bully. Adults rushing to save someone from a car about to hit them, stopping traffic. There were as many feel-good stories as there were bad ones. by evening on the twelth, of course, the worst had come out. After all, give a man superpowers, and leave him to run amok, and of course, what happens, is that they run amok. Storefronts looted, men speeding so fast they can't believe they're moving, running through stores to get their fill -- only speed doesn't come with strength, all of the time. A man's greed can get the better of him, right?

By the second night, groups were forming. People on the street, grouping up. Working together. (Super) strength in numbers.

The third? They'd started wearing the costumes. They were coming out during the day, acting out. After the first or second hit the news on the 14th, more and more followed suit.

After all, if imports could do it, why couldn't they? ]

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[In spite of all natural instincts, when Leonard sees fire? He tends to walk towards it. It's so ingrained at this point that he barely even questions it, at least not until the precise moment that he sees a man spitting fire at Mick.

He knows Mick - even this one - too well to be worried for even a moment and he has enough sense to step into a doorway to keep from making himself a target. As he watches the fight heat up, he misses his gun in a way he's never done before, feeling the flames so close and it's almost like being back in the thick of it.

What his vantage point allows him to see is someone coming up from behind Mick, probably in league with Dragonball X here. He has a knife and there's not really any time to hesitate. It's no use shouting to him, too far away and the fire is crackling. Leonard pulls out the mundane gun he does carry - this is still America after all - and steps forward to take aim. At the last moment he remembers who this Mick is and so it's not a killing shot, instead he hits the man in the leg, making him collapse and reconsider his priorities.

However, the gunshot also draws the attention of the firebreather and Leonard barely even has time to turn his head sideways and throw his arms up before the flames engulf him. The pain doesn't even register. It's the smell of burning flesh and that reminds him of watching another Mick go up in flames that got out of control.]

[ Mick only realizes there is newcomers after he hears the gun shot. Spinning around, he is just enough time to realize he's been saved in the split second recognition of the fact that Captain Cold (Mick automatically slips into thinking of him by that name during a fight) was there.

In that same amount of time, so does that would-be supervillian. Heat Wave instantly steps up his game, shooting a wall of fire that springs up along the pavement between Dragonboy and the rest of them. He runs over to Len, completely ignoring the guy bleeding out. ]

Cold! Cold!

[ There is a brief moment where Mick stares just a little too long at the fire licking at Cold's clothes before he forces himself to pull up his extinguisher and douse the majority of the flames. Mick kneels by him, putting out those that remain with his gloves. ]

Oh hell.

Edited 2016-09-15 14:43 (UTC)

[Len keeps his head turned to the side, one hand still covering his face, because he feels like the flames are still on him. His other hand has released his gun, because even in his state he realises that holding it right now isn't advisable.

His awareness dwindles as the pain finally kicks in. Breathing, he has to focus on breathing and what he manages is a pained gasp as skin sticks to half-burned clothes and there's that smell again, conjuring up memories.]

Mick...

[Said before he even lowers his arm and looks up at the Mick who is there, because it's not the one he's been thinking of. But now his eyes - thankfully unharmed from the fire - focus on him and it helps him with staying in the present.]

You okay?

Me? You're seriously --

[ A bubble of a laugh escapes him, almost hysterical. The man's so badly burned -- can Mick get him to a hospital in time? It takes him a second to remember he doesn't need to, and he quickly pulls off his gloves. ]

Wear this costume for a reason. You really should start wearing one, something sturdy. Less flammable.

[ Slipping into banter is natural, keeps him steady. But there's a waver in his voice, and a twinge of guilt. He almost stood and watched Len go up in flames.

Mick rips at the remnants of Len's shirt on the worst area, exposing the skin. Taking a breath, he presses a palm against Len's chest and concentrates. His other hand hovers at the man's face. ]

Cold, you need to lemme at it. It'll be fine.

Didn't plan on burning today.

[It's more the noise that makes Len hiss in pain when Mick rips off his shirt, because it hurts so bad at the moment that he really doesn't notice a difference. There's still something in him that makes him reach out to push Mick's hand away, but he abandons the movement, his brain catching up with what is going on]

Yeah, no kidding.

[ He sees that movement, scowling. But he is glad Len didn't follow through. ]

Trust me, alright?

[ Behind them, the wounded one is making quite a ruckus, and a bystander is calling for an ambulance. The fire breather is still being kept at bay by Heat Wave's barrier.

He puts his other hand on Len's neck, willing himself to concentrate. Where skin touches skin, the burns start to heal. Mick makes sure to keep his hands on him. ]

[Len's eyes close and he presses his lips together, which still doesn't keep him from letting out a pained sob. At this point, it is hard to feel that the healing is working, everything feels like an open wound. Hell, everything is an open wound. His hand reaches out again and this time it does end up on top of Mick's, but instead of trying to move it, he simply rests his hand there, indecisive.

He finally opens his eyes again, looking up at Mick. Breathing seems to be a little easier, but maybe that is just because he has somebody to focus on.]

Stay safe, Mick.

[His mind isn't as clear as it usually is, but he knows what matters. He doesn't want to see Mick burning. Not ever again.]

[ Mick is concentrating on healing Len, probably more than he has concentrated on anything that wasn't fire before. He only sort of notices Len's hand on his, but he's too busy to even think of pulling his hand away.

There he goes again, asking after Mick instead of worrying about his own damn self. ]

Careful, I might start thinking your heart's not made of ice.

[ He moves his other hand to another problem area. Literally working his magic.

He quickly glances over his shoulder to make sure the dragon guy is still kept at bay, only to see that the guy was making a run for it. Mick grits his teeth. If he hadn't been there, if he hadn't had healing powers -- Len could have ---

Fix Cold first. Then go after the rat. ]

Don't worry. I can handle this.

[Ultimately, even with the damage slowly being healed, this has been a shock to his system. He might not have survived if Mick had been any slower and it's no wonder that his body is starting to tremble. It's not something he can control at this point and he's barely even aware of it.

Instead he just looks up at Mick through half-lidded eyes, his skin slowly healing bit by bit. There is a lot of scarring even on the healed skin, but it looks old, a lot of it faded over decades. He's still holding on to the hand, gradually becoming more aware of that fact.]

You're my priority.

[ Mick is worried about him. Really worried about him. His healing is working, but it was so close. And the trembling doesn't it make Mick feel better. To his credit though, Mick is steady and careful.

He remembers what Len told him. That he died. Sacrificing himself to save the version of Mick he knew. ]

Gotta take care of yourself.

[ Mick doesn't say he doesn't think he's worth prioritizing. He's dangerous, kept in check at the moment but at any given time, who knows? The next time Len gets burned like that it might be his fault.

And on top of that, he's not the person Len sacrificed himself for. He's not that Mick. ]

Thought you had more self-preservation than that.

I'm a survivor. [Even if he definitely doesn't look it right now. At least he's steadily getting better, thanks to Mick's powers.

He's a survivor and he knows what makes it one, but it's a hard argument to hold onto while being healed by someone he just saved who also happens to know that he died saving another version of him.]

But not without you.

[ Survivor. Now that sounds like Leonard Snart.

That other part? Mick was finally getting it. The husband thing. Sacrificing himself. The lighter.

He remembers a conversation he had a few weeks ago when he'd asked Dorian what he would do if his husband and him didn't have that relationship in this universe.

"If it worked in one world, what's to say it won't work in another."

Maybe it was that. Maybe it was something else. Either way, it's almost terrifying realizing you're that important to someone. Mick doesn't even know how to respond to that. Does he resent it? Does he appreciate it? All he knows is his heart is beating double time.

It takes an enormous amount of effort not to simply look up and stare at the fire he'd created rather than deal with it. The fire doesn't confuse him. ]

You don't need me. I'd guess I'm a poor substitute.

[ He's almost done his healing by now, shifting his hands to spots he'd missed. ]

[It's not as if he's expected anything, so if getting nothing leaves him feeling empty? Not a big loss. He's been feeling that for a while. His grip on Mick's hand relaxes, as he only now realises how tightly he had held on to him. Pain overriding it all.

He pushes Mick's hand aside, gently but insistent, never mind that there are burns not yet healed. He can deal with some pain and he's mostly healed. Sitting up slowly he wishes he could ignore the dizzy spell. At least he can act as if it didn't happen.]

You're your own person, Mick.

[There are things he leaves unsaid, because there's only so much he's willing to tell someone who felt the need to loudly inform him that he is straight not long ago.]

And you matter.

[ Well that just made Mick's stomach do a barrel roll.

He hadn't even realized how much he'd been trying to measure himself to the version Len knew, how much that validation that he's not the same person now meant.

It shouldn't matter, right? He shouldn't care so much what Len thinks of him. He's not -- he's not like that. It's just complicated, that's all.

And how does he even respond? That has been Mick's problem this entire time. He doesn't know what what he wants from this... whatever this is.

Thankfully, he's distracted by realizing Len hasn't fully healed yet. ]

Whoa, no, you gotta let me get the rest. Burns infect really easily, you can't just walk this off.

[ The sound of sirens hit his ears, and he instinctively stiffens, looking toward the sound. ]

-- Or at least let me help you get outta here.

What are you going to do, carry me to safety?

[Judging by the sneer that's accompanied with, Len doesn't consider that a viable option. He leans heavily on one of his hands, but he's not about to admit to any weakness. Even if it takes more than just willpower to stop trembling, he can at least refuse to acknowledge it.

Until his vision darkens and he loses a few moments. It's really just seconds after that he's aware again. Aware of his head on Mick's shoulder. His mind's never slow usually, but perhaps out of selfishness it's taking its time now and he turns his head to the side, breathing in and allowing some tension to leave him.]

Damn.

[The whisper of his mind catching up and so he forces himself to lean back on his own hands again.]

I can deal with cops. Go do your thing.

[ Len leans into him, and Mick isn't sure what he should do. There's a part of him that wants to react by holding the man, comforting him, making him feel safe. And then Piper's voice in his head -- don't lead him on.

Furiously in internal debate, Len solves the issue by moving away. But he's obviously not okay. ]

Don't be so damn stubborn. You've got a gun and no shirt, and I'd flip a coin on whether or not you're registered. Not gonna leave you to the cops.

[ Mick shifts to a crouch. ] C'mon. Sling your arm around my shoulder.

[There is a huge part of him that just wants to say 'No.', but he's aware that it would sound stubborn in a very immature way. So instead he just breathes out slowly through his nose and then finally moves to sling an arm around Mick, as suggested.

He hates feeling weak, he hates even more that anyone would see him as such. As he reaches for his gun, he focuses his thoughts on his real gun, the cold gun, because there is a calm that comes with that and the sharpness of mind to keep his thoughts from lingering on the man he's holding on to, for better or worse.]

You need someone watching your back.

Seems like you do too.

[ Stuffing his gloves into his belt, Mick moves to help Len up, wrapping an arm around his back to help support him. It's weird, they've been living together for a couple months now but Mick doesn't think they've ever actually touched before today. Not really the time to think about that, though.

He glances around, looking for the best escape route. His beautiful flames have died down without anything solid to burn, and the guy Cold tagged is groaning. There's a small side street nearby that they can duck into. The the opposite direction of where that Dragon-themed supervillain went. But he's made his choice. ]

That way should get us a bit of distance.

I need my gun.

[Not as if that would necessarily have saved him from this, but it very likely would have. Either way, he misses it, he has gotten so used to it. Like another appendage, even if he hasn't had it that long, relatively speaking.

Len stumbles and pretends he hasn't, wishing he'd not have to lean on Mick as heavily as he does. Focus is difficult, but he trusts him not to lead him wrong.]

That's what I get for leaving it and my ring with Mick.

[ Mick tries to lead him the best he can. He's a bit gruff, but well-meaning. Not quite gentle, but careful. To his credit, he doesn't draw attention to Len's weakness. ]

You really do. Been wondering where it was, actually. Don't seem like Captain Cold at all without it.

[ He knows he probably shouldn't ask about the other thing. Especially now that he's starting to realize that he might be a little bit jealous. Whatever the two of them shared, it felt simultaneously foreign but in a way almost wistful. If Cold –– his Cold -- had been less of a jerk, maybe they could have had a better friendship.

Though he was pretty sure what this Len and his other self shared was friendship but also something else. Especially if there was a ring involved. Okay, he can't help it. ]

Ring?

I knew I was gonna die, seemed appropriate to leave it with him.

[That and the ring. So sentimental of him. But when if not right then? Not as if he could have foreseen that he'd end up here. He hasn't even thought it through when he mentioned the ring, but now he had and that meant there was all this to deal with.

He's had enough already, hasn't he? Apparently life disagreed.]

From the first job I pulled with Mick. Went badly. Just a reminder.

Memento, got it.

[ It was still surreal, knowing that Cold had sacrificed himself for the other Mick, and to hear his name said while referring to both himself but also to someone else. He tried to push those thoughts from his mind.

He was his own person.

He mattered.

It was hard to make him believe that even without the complications. Sometimes it felt like he was only ashes that fire left behind. He was trying to heal, he reminded himself. Maybe it would be easier for him to believe someone cared about him if he felt he was worth caring about. But at the same time he needed someone to. He craved it. ]

Pity the porter couldn't have snatched you from just five minutes earlier.

Don't know about that. Least I know they got away. Shame about the gun though.

[Still, overall a blessing. It's hard enough as it is to not know what happens next. To possibly never know. Thoughts to best be pushed aside, but that is so much harder to do when he still feels the pain of burns, the heat of fire. There is just too much to push aside.

He stumbles over his own feet, not something that usually happens. At least it's Mick he can hold on to, not anyone else. Such weakness.]

[ Mick puts a hand on his chest to steady him. It's worrying to see Cold this weak. Mick tries not to let on how much he's concerned, though. For multiple reasons. ]

Like a price paid.

[ He thinks back to what he remembers when he left home. So many unanswered questions. Would he take down the Rogues? Murmur? It seems like forever ago that his main goal in life was bringing his former friends to justice.

And Len's last moments were hoping his people would be safe. ]

Y'know, you're not nearly as much as a cold bastard as a Leonard Snart should be.

Not with you. Ask anyone else what they think of me.

[Close enough to saying that Mick is different. This Mick, the one here, even if part of that might be influenced by the Mick he knew most of his life. But that doesn't change what this is.

He looks down at his chest and Mick's hand on it.

Don't ever let anyone hurt you.]

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