JUNE CATCH-ALL

[khajidont]

WHO: Jaime Reyes and friends!
WHERE: All over!
WHEN: All month!
WHAT: ...and all sorts of things! I'm using this for pre-planned threads, but as always, if you PM me or contact me on plurk at WISDOMBITCH, I'll be more than happy to write up a starter for you. I generally go for slice-of-life with Jaime, and superhero shenanigans with Blue Beetle. Just say the word or write your own starter, and I'll be allllll over that.
WARNINGS: A bit of traumatized children there, some dead teens there. Nothing big, though!

Comments

YUSUKE

[khajidont]

[ Yusuke is, Jaime has to admit, a bit of an odd duck. He's an eccentric like every other artistic eccentric he's met, but he also happens to think that he's probably very kind underneath all of that; not everyone would have taken to his questioning on the very first day that he was here with such kindness, if not ease. He still feels a little bit bad about it, which means that he's going to smother the guy with kindness.

Case one: Jaime actually has people to cook for now, which means that it's time to cease existing only on frozen meals that Khaji tells him are killing him, but he's too lazy to cook anything else. No, today he's whipping out one of the recipes his Mom left behind for him.

He decides to cook outside on this warm, sunny day, corn and meat sizzling away on the grill, the smell invading the rest of the sleepy neighborhood. To Jaime, it smells just like home. When the smell fails to rouse Yusuke from his room, he glances up at his window and just yells, ]

Yusuke! Want food?!

[ Yes, he decides. That should do it.

And beside him, just on the table, is an old scrapbook he hasn't had the heart to look through up until now, something he's been leafing through as he cooks. If there are more Persona-users coming... well. He'd better refresh his memory. There's mysteries to solve. ]

[lempereur]

[ The smell is rousing Yusuke perfectly fine! His window is open, it's too hot not to be, the scent of Jaime's cooking had made its way up to his room by now...he's just preoccupied. For the last week, he's been working on a series of paintings involving foxes in various states of distress and grotesque peril.

He's totally fine, thank you for asking.

Having his name called explicitly, though, caught enough of his attention for him to put his brush down and poke his head out the window. He was pretty hungry. Usually, he was able to ignore base urges like that until the food was right in front of him, and there it was, so... ]

Are you sure?

[khajidont]

Well, I'm not eating it all myself!

[ And really, who can say no to food? Not Jaime, that's for damn sure. While he waits for Yusuke to get off of his ass from doing... whatever it is artists do locked away in their rooms, he takes the corn off of the grill and slathers it crema and cotija, just how corn was meant to be eaten. ]

You coming down or not?

ELENA

[khajidont]

[ Jaime's no stranger to taking care of kids with... shall we say, less than ideal pasts. But that's always been a volunteer activity, something he does because he grows to love them and want to take care of them. Being someone's guardian, legally responsible for what they do and when they do it, that's something else.

Especially when they're as clearly damaged as Tara is. He sits around for a while, mulling over how to deal with this, until an idea pops into his head. He picks up his phone and texts Elena: ]

You free for lunch sometime? My treat. I wanna pick your brain about something.

[storyseeker]

[Elena's always glad to hear from Jaime, but something about his message gives her pause. It feels more serious than usual.]

Sure thing. I don't have any lunch plans today or tomorrow.

[khajidont]

Thanks!

[ And with that, he sends her all the information she needs - which is primarily just a time and the location, a local Japanese restaurant that he'd once frequented with Minato - and thinks about what to ask her.

He does not, actually, have a lot to ask her, because he has no idea what she knows. With that in mind, he shrugs and decides to wing it, arriving at the restaurant early to snag a table and wait for her. ]

TERRA

[khajidont]

[ When Jaime signed up as a probation officer, he figured it was the best he could do to help people as Jaime, not just as the Blue Beetle, but people aren't getting arrested as often these days. It'll be fine, he thinks. He probably won't get anyone. And then he gets a phone call.

"Tara Markov," the woman on the other line says, and Jaime thinks to himself: shit, because even mentally, he doesn't use the f-word. If he did, now would be a good time. She's a handful, but that's not the kick to the gut - the kick to the gut is that she's gotten in trouble already, that all that talk wasn't just talk, and the idea that maybe, maybe, he should have kept a closer eye on her up until now.

What he says instead of all of that is, "Yes, ma'am. I understand. I'll be there soon."

The drive to the juvie is a long one, well outside of Heropa's cozy suburban neighbourhoods, well away from home. He's got a lot of time to think about what he's taken upon himself, and when that gets to be too much, he turns on the radio.

The music's all crap anyway.

Eventually he gets to juvie, realizing that he probably should have dressed up more for it, but shrugs it off; he's not driving back home to change now. He takes a deep breath and steps in, greets the officials at the door, shows the ID he's been provided with as a probation officer, and gets to work filling in the paperwork.

Yes, he takes responsibility for her. Yes, his physical and mental conditions are all sound. Yes, he's legally of-age. Yes, he's financially secure. Yes, he's ready for this.

And then it's done. ]

Okay, [ he tells the gentleman at the counter. ] All done. Can you bring her out now?

[ He nods over at another woman over by the door and with that, a brand new state of affairs begins for one Tara Markov. ]

sORRY THSI TOOK 12 LITERAL YEARS

[taraincognita]

[ when the officer tells tara the name of her probation officer, her reaction is much the same. shit. it couldn't have been someone who was just going along with it for whatever perks probation officers surely have. it had to be this guy who cares, and will probably be disappointed in her. a guy who reminds her of the titans with his do-good attitude, the one that she kinda envied but could never bring herself to fully adopt.

she's not a hero. but this guy.

fuckin' jaime. of course.

when the officer collects her, she grabs her backpack and slings it over her back. her wounds have mostly healed, but she still has a few nasty bruises on her arm where it was broken. she gives jaime a crooked smile, waving just a bit. tara is small, as always, and pale from being indoors for the past week.]

Yo.

WE GOOD

[khajidont]

C'mon. We're getting out of here.

[ He's not going to bother lecturing her about what she did, or why she can't do it again - not now, anyway. She's probably had an earful already, and being in prison of a sort is never a happy experience. Jaime knows. He's been to the one here before, and it had been a jarring, scary experience for someone used to the creature comforts of his happy home.

Jaime signs what he needs to sign before gesturing for her to follow him into the parking lot. This time, a motorcycle isn't waiting for them, but a blue volkswagon is (a blue beetle, har, har, says Sarissa), and Jaime opens the door for Tara before getting into the driver's seat himself.

He drums his fingers on the wheel, taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap, but he doesn't start the car. ]

You're homeless, aren't you?

[ Probation officers aren't expected to live with the people they're looking after. They check in, they keep tabs on them, but they're not expected to have that much of a responsibility.

Jaime's gearing up for it anyway. ]

KLARION

[khajidont]

[ Who has two thumbs and bad ideas?

Oh, yeah. It's this guy right here. It's clear that Klarion needs some practice at impulse control and managing his anger, to be frank, and he's not entirely sure whether or not Kanaya's idea of therapy is actually going to do anything. But he does have a bug with anger management problems living in his spine, and, well, that makes him an expert. Right? And what Khaji likes to do - and has been banned from doing on a few servers, much to Jaime's chagrin - is gaming.

It's low-stakes enough so that if things go horribly wrong, it'll be fine.
With that in mind, he takes a deep breath, picks up his phone and texts: ]

I have an idea. Want to come over? I have snacks

[beneathbluerafters]

Very well. I'll be there shortly.

[ 'Shortly' is a bit inaccurate. Klarion's parole had been extended by a few weeks, thanks to his attitude, so instead of teleporting into Jaime's bedroom like he would do normally, he has to hoof it to Jaime's house the old-fashioned way. He eventually shows up on Jaime's doorstep, and with the hood of his sweater drawn up over his pointy hair, and the orange cat chilling out on top of his backpack, he looks a bit like some kind of surly teenage hitchhiker. ]

... I brought pop-tarts.

[ An entire backpack full of them, from the looks of it. ]

[khajidont]

[ Jaime has to admit, it's a little weird not to have Klarion appear right beside him. It's a lot nicer to have some time to prepare, mind you, but a little part of him is sad to see him trudge all the way over like some surface-dweller. He greets Klarion with a smile nonetheless, swinging the door open to let him inside. ]

Thanks! I, uh... also bought sweets.

[ They're going to have mouths full of cavities by the end of the night. ]

Oh, well. C'mon in!

[ When Klarion enters the living room, he'll see Jaime's TV with his Xbox plugged into it, some generic shooter still running on the screen. ]

FOR THE GOOD DOCTOR

[khajidont]

[ It's been a while since Jaime's spoken to Dr. Chilton. He had disliked him for some time - still dislikes him, frankly, since his loyalty to Kaidan runs deep - but he's warmed up to him since then too. As two individuals who have been here for longer than most, they've at least got the kind of camaraderie that comes with being imPorts in frequently difficult times. He doesn't know what Chilton's been through, but he's certainly been through a lot, if not only by virtue of being here.

Whether or not he likes Chilton is immaterial for now, however; this isn't exactly a social visit. When he had signed up to become a probation officer, he was told that he had to go through at least a brief run-down on how things worked with someone who had the mind for it, and Dr. Chilton was the one they suggested and, indeed, the one he's most comfortable with. His own personal gripes aside, he's not sure if he trusts anyone to deal with the psyche of an imPort besides an imPort. How is anyone else supposed to deal with all of the nonsense they get exposed to on a regular basis?

With that in mind, he only hesitates for a moment before knocking on Chilton's door. ]

Dr. Chilton? It's Jaime. We talked on the phone?

[ He's a polite boy, though, so he'll wait to be invited in before letting himself in. ]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Jaime, yes. Please -- come in.

[Unusually, Chilton was at the door and opening it as he made the genteel offer; typically he would remain seated at his dark leather throne. He closed the door behind Jaime, and waited a moment. The Greco-Roman decor keenly placed among the light blue room -- blue, but with its lilt of gold and black -- could be momentarily overpowering, he knew. Chilton had designed it like that.]

Would you like a water?

[He only had sparkling. Lemon flavored.]

Feel free to take a seat -- [His hand drifted over to the light blue sedan placed parallel to the hard, wooden chair.] Or stand. Whatever pleases you.

[There is a low electrical current sparking in his stiff posture, his aggressively polite tone. Things that Chato had confronted him about recycled through his mind, all swirling behind and unsteady smile.]

[khajidont]

Um, yessir. Thank you.

[ Jaime takes some sparkling water and sits on the edge of his seat, still a little ill at ease in such a nice office, a reminder that Chilton's from a very, very different world from him. He immediately regrets taking the glass of water, too paranoid that somehow he'll spill it on some of this very nice furniture.

He sips at it very carefully, then regrets that too, because he was probably slurping. Somehow, Chilton's distinctly proper sense of etiquette only makes things worse. Oh well, he thinks to himself, best to do this quick as he can. ]

It's, uh, like I told you over the phone. They said that I need to come see you to make sure I understand mental illnesses - [ he stifles the and stuff that's begging to come out of his throat ] - properly.

touches.

[couldbebeautiful]

[Veronica's on her way back from playing a game of croquet when she runs into a dog.

Of all the cities, this little garden court in Heropa is probably the best place to play croquet, at least in Veronica's opinion. For one thing, it's sunny and warm, and for another, nobody really looks askance at her for wearing something like this. Now her game's done and she's heading back, munching on a hot dog as she rounds a corner.

—there is a beagle on the sidewalk. It's barking at something that Veronica can't see, and it is maybe the cutest thing she's seen today. She huffs out a laugh, steps closer, bends down.]

Hey, little guy. [Do dogs like hot dogs? Whatever, she will offer it out, she can always buy another one.] Want a snack?

blushes

[khajidont]

BB! BB, you dumb dog, get back here!

[ And there's the owner, rushing down the sidewalk without sparing a second glance at anyone he's bowling into, leash flailing behind him in one hand, and looking decidedly harried. ]

Why are you so bad? [ He complains, immediately kneeling down in front of him and squishing his face. It's adorable. Everything BB does is adorable. That's how he continues being as mischievous as he is. He looks up at Veronica and says, ]

You probably shouldn't. He's gonna get fat. Because I keep feeding him.

[ He knew he shouldn't own a dog. He's too much of a sucker. ]

[couldbebeautiful]

[BB is such a cute dog she wants to cuddle him.]

What, really? [She looks back at the beagle, wags her finger at it like it's a misbehaving child.] Bad dog. No hot dog for you, nobody wants you getting around by rolling down the street. [But she does reach out to affectionately rub behind its ears, so probably the dog is just going to discard that comment real quick.

She looks up at Jaime.] So BB's his name?

FOR MAGNET DAD

[khajidont]

[ It's a nice, simple, quiet patrol for the Blue Beetle. He helped someone retrieve a kid from a tree (she cried the whole time, and her grandma was a little too frail for it), accepted a free hot cocoa from a corner store whose sign he put up again for them, and gently stopped a drunk man from trying to hold up a wall with his pocketknife. He's about ready to call it a day when there's a loud crash from above, and a car comes hurtling off of a bridge.

Jaime, being an experienced superhero, but still a normal human being, lets out a massive yell of surprise before flinging his arms in the air and reflexively using his newfound magnet powers to hold it aloft in the air. The man inside (clearly on something) begins to scream and bang at the window, clearly wanting to get down, which is a sensible enough desire. There's only one problem: Jaime doesn't know how to control his magnet powers, and, well, he's not so sure whether or not he can hold it up while flying up to the car to try to grab it by force instead. ]

Uhhhh. Uh oh. Okay. Um. Just hold on! I'll get you out of there! Just - uh.

[ Okay. He can deal with this. He can. He super can. It's only, he's only used his magnet powers once before, and that was to ward off a robot army he had no problems with dropping. He doesn't want this to be his first homicide. ]

Khaji? Call Erik! Call Erik right now!

[ And once Erik picks up, he'll hear a relatively panicked, mildly robotic voice saying, ] Hi! Sorry to bother you, um - I hope you're not busy, but I, uh, I'm holding a car in the air right now with this whole magnet thing, and I, uh, don't know how to get it down?

There's also someone inside. He's real mad.

Re: FOR MAGNET DAD

[incogneto]

[ Erik is, in fact, at home listening to music and doing some cleaning in the bathroom. So he takes a little while to pick up to take off his rubber gloves, and-- ]

Coordinates? I'm on my way.

But can you hold it? Or... how's your focus?

[ But that's really dangerous. A car? Erik could not have handled one of his first items being a car. He takes off at a run and steals someone's motorcycle from where it's parked, cutting in line and driving it straight through the intercity porter. ]

[khajidont]

I can hold it for - what, 203.54 years? Khaj, I won't even live that long.

[ Jaime shakes his his head, ignoring Khaji's insistent chatter that he could figure out a way to make him live longer (Khaji's offered to grow him extra limbs before; he doesn't want to hear what other awful things he wants to do to his body), and clears his throat. ] Sorry. I can hold it basically forever. It's getting it down I'm having problems with. I don't think I can do it without hurting the guy inside.

[ Or killing him. But he's aware that even though he's keeping his voice down, they're on a busy street. He'd rather not have people hear him accidentally killing civilians, thank you. ]

Chilton's office

[andtherevolution]

[Utena's sitting down and flipping idly through her book, and her uniform and more casual clothes have been exchanged for a relatively nice shirt and slacks, hinting at some kind of actual business. If one bothers to look at the cover, they'll notice that it's a copy of The Methodical Walter White, though it doesn't matter much. She's not really reading it so much as thumbing through the pages as she jiggles her foot, and she looks up to check the clock...

...and notices Jaime coming out! She perks up and raises her hand to wave at him, before she realizes that he's coming out of a psychiatrist's office. Does he really want to be recognized by someone right now? So she drops her hand down immediately and shoves her face in her book, hunching over as she pretends to read.]

[khajidont]

[ Utena's response is, quite frankly, a very sweet one. She's in possession of more discretion than Jaime is, because the moment he sees that shock of pink hair (and really, it's very difficult to miss), his eyes light up in recognition. His gaze flits between her hair and the title of the book, and he tilts his head, curious. At any rate, she looks an awful more at ease in the admittedly high class atmosphere of Chilton's office than Jaime did; it's a breath of fresh air to leave the confines of Chilton's personal office and to see someone he's a little more at ease with.

Chilton was very helpful, though. He'll give him that. He tucks one hand into his pocket and says, ] Utena, right? Are you here to get that signed or something?

[ She's a little too dressed up for just a simple signing (more dressed up than Jaime is, which is something he spent a good long time in there deeply regretting), but it seems like a natural enough conclusion. And hey, if she's here for actual therapy, he's giving her the chance to lie. ]

[fridgeflower]

[ The apartment still feels strange and too quiet, maybe especially now that Laurie's packed in Sasha's things to make way for a potential new tenant. Most days, she's not happy with the idea of heading home right after class. The obvious solution? The library, of course! It's not uncommon for her to visit the public institution, browse around, and get some work done.

She considers sitting outside, due to the sunshine, but Florida in the summer is murder. She occupies a table near a window, then, looking out onto the well-kept lawn. It's a fair compromise. She's trucking through the tail-end of an manuscript with a highlighter when a familiar figure passes through her peripheral vision.

Looking up, she has to wait until he passes the next row on shelves before she can confirm, but... Yep. That's Jaime. ]

Hey. [ She stage whispers. That's what you do in the library. ] Jaime!

[khajidont]

Oh, hey! [ Jaime says, at a normal volume, a fact that he immediately regrets as soon as several sets of eyes snap towards him. He hunches his shoulders and waves apologetically at them before moving a couple books so he can talk to her between the shelves and teases, in a much quieter voice, ] Hey, Laurie! Doing research for your next book?

[ Jaime's doing research here too, of a different sort. Tucked underneath his arm is a textbook and other non-fiction books, obviously of a more scholastic nature than a scintillating one. ]