What do we want? Protests!

[maskormods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: Everywhere
WHEN: July 2nd
WHAT: National Day of Protests Against ImPorts. OOC Info and Plotting Post.
WARNINGS: violence, some mention of drug use

Heropa

The weather is beautiful and the crowds are out, spilled all through the park like they're waiting for a concert. There are a few signs, but most are vague, and some of them seem to think they are here for nuclear disarmament, rather than imPorts. It's a good job that there's a nice breeze, otherwise the smoke would lie thick over the crowd, like the smell already is. Apparently vaping is really popular in Heropa these days, so the smoke doesn't even have a consistent smell. Is someone vaping chocolate peach flavour...? Also, discerning imPorts may swear that some of that smoke smells like weed.

ImPorts that visit this protest will be called out to, asked to join prayer circles, invited to sing songs and hold hands, and maybe get a hug. The vibe here feels significantly less anti-imPort as it is anti-war, and they believe in embracing each other - and you! - in an effort to ensure peace. There is a minimal police presence, but they seem to be there more as a precaution than anything else, and spend most of their time making sure none of the protesters try to climb a palm tree while high. After the sun goes down, most of the crowd will disperse on its own, except for a few who found out that making out was more fun than protesting. They may need a little shove to get on their way before being written up for public indecency.


Nonah

The protest in Nonah starts later in the afternoon, as a march - they even bothered to make banners and signs that all talk about imPort aggression and militarization. When the march starts they have a few protest chants - none of which are very poetic and nearly all very grating - but by hour two everyone has given up on chanting, and someone has turned up a car stereo instead. The crowd, which was small but passionate until that point, starts to grow, and people who clearly are more interested in an impromptu block party than a protest start filling out the ranks. By the time the sun goes down, all pretence is lost: this is a party. Loud music, dancing, and glow sticks seem to appear out of nowhere. The natives here aren't as keen to engage with imPorts, but if you come in peace and can dance well you might get a pass into the best party Nonah has seen in a year.

A few party goers, however, inspired by the riots happening concurrently in Maurtia Falls, decide that this party protest needs a little flair. Grafitti starts going up around the city, of imPorts, and they aren't exactly being coy in their messaging. The images are often of individual imports, especially well known ones like Galla, Padme and Baelish, decked out in military hardware and guns, cigars in their mouths and grinning while riding nuclear warheads. There are a few other faces of note, however - native ones. Like the General who opened the military to imPort volunteers, and a few senators that have spoken up for imPort interests in the past. Make no mistake, people are keeping an eye on things, even if they are seemingly flippant about it. They'll remember.

As the night wears on, some protesters decide to flip over a police car and set it on fire, and a few others think it might be a good idea to try the same thing. The police force issues a curfew and tries to get the crowds to disperse, but a few imPorts getting involved could throw this protest into something more violent, or could pacify it.


De Chima

The protest in De Chima is an extremely well organised affair, with a large stage, speakers, and even booths handing out water so that no one overheats or gets dehydrated in the summer sun. Each speaker is slotted a time, and they represent a wide variety of businesses and special interest groups - from tech development, to medical research, to human rights organisations. Though the speeches are mixed, most of them send a very clear message: the militarisation of the imPort population will not be tolerated. Some imports in particular are being called out, their faces projected on the walls behind the speakers as recorded quotes are played out for the crowd as the speakers dissect the comments. Available data about the Mars Mission is presented, and it is unfortunately sparse and open to a lot of conjecture, and the quotes from imPorts aren't exactly helping, especially when taken out of context. Audio of Galla can be heard, saying "ImPorts alone must take on this mission" and "We can construct a Mars base.", which sends up a flurry of concern over imPort Imperialist Goals. A quote from Jonathan gets played in multiple speeches, where he ominously says "If you don't want missiles to be fired at Earth, you really shouldn't get in our way."

Only one imPort is on the initial speakers list: Iris West, a journalist for the Heropa Daily. But the moment she takes the stage and starts to speak, she's immediately interrupted by two young reporters taking over the mic to warn natives about the dangers of imPort propaganda infiltrating 'legitimate news organisations'. The speech ends in a loud argument when the owner of the Heropa Daily tries to come to Iris's defence and make the argument that multiple view points are vital to a free and honest press, but all four of them end up getting swept off the stage before a fight can break out.

There's a few moments where an intrepid imPort might spot an opportunity to get at the mic and speak out before anyone has a chance to stop them...



Maurtia Falls

The protests start early, and don't have just one source. The 'official' protest takes up most of mainstreet, but impromptu protests have appeared all across the city. Here, there seems a lot less concern about imPorts heading to Mars. In fact, a lot of the slogans cry that not only should imPorts go there, they should stay there and never come back. Where the other cities have protests that are at least mostly under control (looking at you, Nonah), Mautria Falls desolves into riots incredibly quickly. The largest of the protests by far, the people of Mautria Falls have had some of the worst casualties to imPort behaviour - there are still trees around the cities of citizens that once lived there. There is a lot of anger, and a lot of hate, and it's spilling out in violence and looting. Known imPorts may find themselves targetted - bottles thrown, insults hurled, and even in some cases violent assault. Stores are smashed and broken into, and at least one fire gets started. An emergency lockdown is issued, and the cops head out in riot gear into the streets - too bad so many of the cops are corrupt enough to just happily turn a blind eye when they think it's in their best interest.

Will imPorts coming to save the city from itself be a boon? Or will imPort interference throw more fuel on an already deadly raging fire?


Mars Mission Headquaters: A Laboratory in De Chima

The robots hit first.

There are nearly two dozen of them, and they range in shape and size from gorilla-like behemoths to flying saucers the size of cat, that can dart into areas that the others can't reach. They are all armed, all dangerous - though it's clear that their armaments are geared more toward destroying technology than they are toward fighting imPorts, and the reason for that becomes clear quickly. They are all gunning for one thing: the engine prototype. Any that reach it will do everything in their power to maul, destroy, break down and otherwise sabotage the engine, and they are single-minded in their desire to do so. They cannot be distracted, save by force. They cannot be reasoned with. They can only be dealt with.

But while the robots are gunning for the Engine, someone - or really, something is sneaking in the backdoor. Anyone with access to a computer in the laboratory will notice something strange - a little black box in the corner of the screen, with a red number in it, slowly ticking up. Once it reaches 100, the screen itself goes black, and a red humanoid face without eyes appears on the screen.

Access initiated. Download initiated. This is for your own good. Do not resist. Erasure imminent.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[maskormods]

Sabrina | OTA

[bentspooner]

nonah;

[ Sabrina followed Archie here, at his request, their services are apparently needed to deal with the rowdy crowds. Maybe she isn't helping imPorts' image by levitating people to get them to stop breaking things, or letting her Hypno run as wild as he pleases with his Hypnosis ability, but these people are better off asleep than hurting themselves. If they manage to do so anyway, well, that's why Archie is here.

If anyone has any better crowd clearing suggestions, she's all ears. ]

heropa;

[ The hometown isn't so belligerent. In fact, they don't even seem to know what it is they're protesting. It makes them easier to talk to than the Nonah crowds. Sabrina is determined to prove that despite her power, she isn't a threat to anyone. The best way to do that? Magic tricks. Telekinetic juggling. Letting Woobat leave heart shaped kisses on willing natives, with the promise that it brings good luck. Maybe indulging in some of the dank being passed around, because no matter what Blue says, she is Young and Hip. ]

mum and dad strike team go (nonah)

[h2no]

[he sticks around sabrina, knowing that her crowd control abilities extend far beyond anything he could reasonably do in this situation. not to mention it's... a little funny to see hypno catch some people unawares. she's right; it's a lot better to see people leaning against a wall asleep where they'd been previously close to starting another fire.

archie has crobat and mightyena out-- the hyena pokémon staying by his side as they make their way through the streets and the bat pokémon soaring above, diving down to help with any trouble it spots. it's quite easy to break people out of fights when it's bigger than most of the people involved.

he looks over at sabrina from his current position-- crouched by a protestor hypno's just hit with hypnosis, making sure the guy didn't fall too hard. he picks him up into the bridal position to move him out the road.] You doin' okay?

[he asks it periodically, just making sure. he doesn't ask if she wants a break, trusting her to know her own limits, but he won't completely ignore her own welfare.]

I don't know if it's better or worse that they don't know what they're doin'...

Boba Fett | OTA | Maurtia Falls

[myownprice]

run, boy, run
[Boba doesn’t know much about Maurtia Falls. He doesn’t know its history. He doesn’t know what it’s suffered. He barely knows anything about this world at all.

So when he comes across a huge crowd of angry, shouting people making their way down main street, he doesn’t immediately know what to make of it. He even creeps closer, trying to get a look at the signs they’re holding or overhear snatches of what they’re yelling. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to wait long for an explanation to come to him.

”Hey! You there!” A young man breaks away from the crowd and makes a beeline towards Boba, one finger raised and pointed at him as if trying to fix him to the spot. ”Are you one of them?”

Boba can guess what he means by “one of them,” but decides it best to play dumb.]

No. Just a normal human.

[The man doesn’t look convinced. ”Why are you wearing those gloves?”

Boba is wearing gloves, the only pair he owns. Which is to say, armored and clearly not of this world. A small price to pay to avoid accidentally triggering his psychometry powers. Boba doesn’t let his dismay show on his face, instead just shrugging.] The doctor said I had to wear them, [he lies. The answer seems to surprise the man, but he recovers quickly.

”Oh yeah? Why don’t you take them off so we can see?”]

I don’t think that would be a good idea, [Boba starts, but before he can continue, the man reaches forward and seizes his wrist in an impatient attempt to remove them himself.

Boba reacts on instinct, trapped hand circling up and forcing the man’s hand to bend awkwardly to follow. He follows up by using his other hand to grab the man's own wrist and twist it sharply in the same direction. The man releases him with a shout of pain and Boba hurries backwards out of his reach.

People are staring now. The man notices it too, face flushed bright red.

”Did you see that?” he calls out, voice indignant, ”He used his powers on me!”

Most of the other protestors look dubious, but a few who look to be friends of the man are watching Boba with newfound interest. Running would be as good as a confession of guilt, so instead, Boba stands there, staring at them with feigned confusion. He’s not quite sure if they buy it...]

this world is not meant for you
[At first, Boba thinks he made it out alright. He’s unharmed and no one had actually given chase. At least, that’s what he thinks at first. However, as he moves further away from the noise and distraction of the protests, he becomes aware that he’s being followed. He knows better than to look behind him—if he’s being followed by someone who means him harm, then there’s a chance they’ll attack as soon as they’re found out. So Boba keeps walking, listening carefully. If he focuses, he can hear two distant sets of footsteps. Or maybe three? All he knows is that even after several minutes of walking, they don’t seem to be getting any further away.

He wishes he had his blaster. He’d actually be able to handle the situation himself if he did. Instead, his options now feel very limited. He knows better than to lead them to his home or anywhere isolated enough that they might feel emboldened to strike. He also can’t head back towards mainstreet where there’s still rioting. No, all he can do is lead them around the neighborhood, eyes peeled for any people who like like they might be imPorts—or any imPort friendly establishments—before the sun goes down and the situation goes from bad to worse.]

this world is not meant for you

[beyourzoomer]

[She had no idea there was any kind of protest going on today, but after she'd gotten away from the largest part of the crowd, she skated down the road, hair flying behind her. She's distracted by the crowd she's left behind, confused about why they seem to hate all the imports, and frankly, kind of annoyed. It's not like any of them asked to be here, even if she's glad that she is.

She wants to use her powers to put more distance between herself and the angry citizens, but she also doesn't want to draw any extra attention to herself. And speaking of angry citizens, she sees a trio of what she's sure are trouble makers following a kid who's around Max's own age.

Okay, no. That's not okay. She doesn't like bullies. She pushes her foot up on the board and speeds toward the group, whistling loudly to draw their attention.]

MAURTIA FALLS | OTA

[darkov]

ENDEAVOR CENTER
It's pretty safe here early on, and Martin was planning to be here most of the day. However, he picks up on the increasingly uneasy atmosphere coming from those who're following local news -- adults, mostly -- and begins to get an uneasy feeling in his gut. He puts his sunglasses on and skulks outside, stuffing knitting and needles into his gym bag as he goes, hoping that maybe the disgusting heat and sun is less oppressive than the troubled murmurs from inside.

Unfortunately, he can see the unrest mounting across the street, as he sees some shoving and loud arguments leading to things getting thrown. Teeth gritted and stomach knotted, Martin's fingers curl against the chain-link fence as he watches, extra sensitive to the sight of those who may be inadvertently caught up in the mess. The problem here is...he's never been good at being proactive: those moments tend to be unconscious sparks of thoughtless movement, driven more on some strange impulse than a planned, rational response.

It could happen again, though: he may see someone familiar or...or somewhat kindred enough to move him away from his side of the street and do something.


GOV'T HOUSING #10 (and nearby lawns/homes)
Getting back wasn't smooth at all, and Martin's got to take time to get cleaned up from his unpleasant encounters... and pack, apparently. Because Akira says they're leaving for a bit...and Rex apparently is fine with that. It does and doesn't make sense to Martin, who doesn't have much fight in him right now to really argue. Better to just do as told.

While here, though, he keeps drifting toward the windows to peer outside, worried and suspicious of all who may pass by that he doesn't recognize, imagining the worst for those he does know for as long as he doesn't see them. This is kind of torturous...staying out of the way is what he always says he wants, but. But he's worried about all these weird people he knows now, and he doesn't want to be alone.

(closed to danger and andy)

[darkov]

"Andy, help--"

Martin flinches, hopping half a step as glass shatters overhead, spurred into another burst of speed to avoid another. Waiting at the center wasn't feasible as things escalated, so he decided to hurry back to the house, hoping to avoid notice and stay out of the way. Things never do go as he hopes, though, and his attempts to book it didn't go unnoticed.

He skirts around a corner and hops over some trash littered in an alley while bringing his communicator back up.

"I'm--I'm trying to get back," he pants, head on a swivel. "Back to the, the house. It's the same route as always, but--"

A rock comes out of his field of vision, striking him on the temple, which rattles him enough that he winds up flinging the device in his recoil. It clatters far back down where he'd run and while he staggers to catch his footing, Martin whips around to seek it out, only finding angry, young pursuers instead. He can hardly get a word in before he's tackled, which knocks the breath out of him on the way down. Confused and alarmed, he brings his arms up to shield his face from the kicks and spitting.

MAURTIA FALLS, DE CHIMA | OTA

[fauxmarth]

MAURTIA FALLS (assorted)
[Lucina had hoped to never see this city in such a state of unrest again, yet...this is exactly the sort of thing she'd been warned of before. she accepts it, grimly, but will not stand idly by. too many dear friends live and work here, and she'll not have innocents under threat.

there is a very high chance that those among you who find yourself overwhelmed by mobbing may suddenly find yourself suddenly held aloft, whisked up and away by a noble and...weirdly strong-for-her-size princess, who thinks nothing of it:]

That was close. Are you harmed?


[OR, perhaps, you may find yourself back-to-back with her on the ground, holy sword bared to intimidate those so bold as to try to take up arms. there's no time for pleasantries or introductions:]

Let us make quick work to quell this mob, and pray reason strikes swifter than steel!



DE CHIMA, O'Malley Clinic

Here.

[Lucina returns to the lobby with another armful of folding chairs, setting them out for those waiting to be seen. she's tired, but grateful things here were not as chaotic as Maurtia Falls, and while she was loathe to leave the city at its worst...when she saw Iris on a passing screen, in harm's way? there was no way she couldn't come this way.

but Iris is safe now, which leaves Lucina with more time to aid others. she'll do so here, until she finds her services no longer needed.

hope you like getting wrapped up in an excessive amount of gauze. and maybe ugly cartoon band-aids.]

Maurtia Falls

[devoutish]

[Alfie is coming out of this better than most people, thanks to his status as a crime lord. It doesn't deter every protester or agitator, certainly, but a lot of those who are involved in the city's underworld don't want to attack him: because he's a supplier, or the supplier of their allies; because he's more powerful than they are and they don't want to risk retaliation; or because even though he's less powerful than they are, they're waiting for a more opportune moment to strike.

That said, he's not totally immune, and he's currently involved in a prolonged fistfight with two men who he's never met before and who he's fairly certain have absolutely no clue who he is. He's giving almost as good as he's getting, but it's two against one, and the other guys are a good ten years younger than he is. He's seriously considering just pulling his gun on them when he spots Lucina in the background - or more precisely, he spots her spotting him.

Maybe he's heard about what she's been doing around town, or maybe he's seen her rescuing other people. And that's all well and good, but he knows that he definitely does not want a superpowered savior swooping in and saving him from anything. Backup and even bodyguards are one thing; those are expected. But being whisked out of harm's way would make him look weak, and looking weak is a dangerous thing in his business. So he does something that she might not be expecting - he spins around, points to her, and barks:]

No!

[She can fight alongside him, though. That's cool.]

[drivesadesk]

In Public, De Chima and Heropa

When the protests started popping up, Jonathan decided to just hole himself up and keep working on the engine. The only time he could be seen in public was when he ran out for food, or when he was coming or going from his home, and at those times he was sure to not only wear his skin suit, but have a hood pulled over his head and sunglasses firmly in place to obscure his identity as much as possible.

He didn't want to confront the crowds, the anger, the drama more than he already had. He was frustrated with it. Here they had this huge vulnerability to any attack from space, and they objected to having anyone do anything about it. Working on the engine helped him block it out.

Working on the Engine

When inside, however, and working in relative privacy away from non-Imports, he took Maeve's suggestion...sort of. He could be seen, hood down, sunglasses off, and the gloves and mask of his skin suit removed as he sat there, focusing on his work. Occasionally he'd listen to the radio at first, until they started covering the protests. He hurried over and quickly turned it off once that started, but not before they played that horribly out of context quote of his.

A chill ran up his spine.

That wasn't what he meant, and whoever recorded that knew that wasn't what he meant, because they would have surely heard the first part about how they were just concerned because Earth had no defenses from an attack from above and they could be attacked at any time. That they were just trying to fix an obvious security flaw in the planet's defenses. But that didn't matter and he should have known better when choosing his wording. He himself had used the same tactic when trying to discredit humans that were getting too close to the truth. He should have known better. The others who were trying to build this thing with him would probably hate him for that mistake, and they wouldn't be wrong to. He had to fix it, but not knowing how, he figured for the time being he might as well get some more work in.

Fighting Robots

He was still working on the engine when they came. He looked up as he saw something whiz by in his peripheral vision, spotting one of the small saucers. What was--

His eyes widened when he saw some sort of tiny gun emerge from the saucer, aimed at the engine.

"Oh, no you don't."

Grabbing the mallet, he ran at the little robot, swinging it like a baseball bat with a loud, furious yell. He knew better than to underestimate the little ones. Eric was about this size, and he was incredibly dangerous, so when Jonathan heard the crunch as the mallet made contact with metal, he just kept swinging to smash the little device. He was so focused on that, he didn't even notice what was coming up behind him.

Fighting the hack

Once he hears the voice, Jonathan abandoned the fight to rush over to the computer.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

Furiously typing code, he tried to stop the attack. He knew Quatre backed up their files (on floppy disks, apparently?) but that didn't mean he wanted to waste time transferring the files back here, and he certainly didn't want to give OTO access to their work. He had to stop this.

Engine

[ghoulking]

[ Kaneki arrived to the headquarters after the riots in Maurtia Falls Started and the vandalism over Nonah was just beginning. The attack hasn't occurred yet, but Kaneki is still rushing over to the headquarters because he has heard what the protesters were saying on the news.

Once he arrives, he finds Jonathan working on the engine, and with a small sigh, kaneki approaches ]

Jonathan-san.

Luke Skywalker | Mars Mission HQ | OTA

[faithfulson]

[ By some miracle, Luke managed to miss that there were protests scheduled for that day. It was largely due to the engine he currently had his head stuck in, of course -- he had been stopping in early every day since they had really begun construction, doing everything he could to make as much progress as possible so they could begin testing soon. It was back breaking in some ways, and there were times where he had to mentally chant that he could do this, it was fine, he could do this, in order to get through some of the finer details. ]

[ It took the sensation of a faint tremor in the Force to make him realize that something was wrong. He lifted his head from his work, frowning down the hallway leading to the workroom, but nothing seemed like it was coming...? ]

Jacob? Dr. Gottlieb?

[ Luke hesitated a moment, before reaching for a rag, wiping his hands off, and stepping away from the engine, making his way over to the hall. He couldn't see anything... maybe he was just getting a bad feeling because he was by himself? Yeah... sure, that... totally had to be it. Frowning to himself, Luke turned to head back into the work room, when a flair of warning from the Force had him spinning around, lightsaber out and activated just in time to slice through the arm of the robot that had managed to come up behind him, keeping the thing's giant fist from coming down on his head. ]

[ Luke backed up as the metal arm clunked to the ground, trying to put some distance between himself and it. ]

This isn't a social call, is it?

[ Look, with the way some things went around here... ]

[loyal_soldier]

[The front entrance had been broken open, but Riptide was holding the line there. Better to help where the cybertronian couldn't go while armored up. Others might have breached the building through alternate means. He fell back into the complex, following the sounds of heavy steel feet. It was headed straight for the construction bay. He broke into a full run, not stopping as he rounded the corner into the room.

Assess while on the move. Too close to the engine prototype to risk a thermal det. Too armored for his shots to make much of a dent, but the thing still had joints. If he could get a shot in under the torso plating, he could fry it. But it was too tall to shoot like that.

It was turned away from him for now, and he wasn't going to focus on why, just charge. A foot landing on its reinforced hip and giving him a step up to half-crouch on its shoulders, grabbing its head to stay on. He managed two shots pressed against the base of its neck before he saw its remaining hand coming towards him.]

Anders | OTA

[rebelhealer]

Nonah
Anders can't help but be worried today. He was taken from a world where he's hunted and risks his freedom every day, all because he was born with magic. Now certain parts of the city are calling for the imPorts to leave. It always starts somewhere, with someone using their gift for bad, and then suddenly everybody with that gift is treated as a monster that needs to be locked up and watched over by sadistic guards.

He heads to Maurita Falls when he sees that things are calm, but he returns by nightfall when things get out of control.

Anders stays on the edge of the riot, wandering about and trying to contain the damage. This is not good. He's ready with his healing hands just in case anyone needs it.

Someone brought fireworks and now a grass fire has started. Anders is quick to cast ice magic on it, but it's starting to spread. His eyes and skin glow as Justice lends his strength, helping Anders douse the flames.

Maurita Falls
Anders arrives in town to hear all the locals demanding that the imPorts be sent off world. It's worse than he thought, if the locals feel this way. Anders obviously hasn't been here long enough to get why they're so angry, but it still stings that he's being told to get off the planet. Justice tries to assure him that the government isn't about to bring in Templars or something like them, or that imPorts are all going to be imprisoned and only called out when useful, like back home.

When the riots start, Anders does his best to avoid getting hurt, staying on his toes.

A young woman ends up breaking her ankle in all the chaos, and Anders immediately jumps in to heal her. While the woman looks conflicted, since he did just fix her ankle, some locals nearby tell him to get away from her. "I was heal..."

Something gets thrown at him, and it's enough to make Anders' eyes glow blue, Justice going into 'protection mode'. That doesn't help.

Anders blinks and the glow is gone. "Now's not the time, Justice!" He's immediately on his feet and running for it.

Wildcard!
[ooc: If you'd like another prompt, find me on plurk arwingyoshi or PM me]

maurtia falls!

[ct_7567]

As much as Rex has been practicing with it, the ability to produce duplicates of himself is a power he's been loathe to use, even he can recognize when it's necessary. The sudden appearance of four men identical to Rex, clad in the same MFPD uniform Rex himself wears, is an eerie one, particularly as all four surge forward, keeping the crowd away from the injured young woman. As Anders looks to run, Rex grabs onto his shoulder, eyes sharp, focused.

"Hold up! If you can heal her, I can get you two somewhere quieter than this. An ambulance isn't going to make it through this mess, not right now."

The woman won't exactly die left to her own devices - a broken ankle isn't such a big deal, when push comes to shove - but if there's a chance at getting these people medical help, it's an avenue worth pursuing. Nobody who hasn't been caught up in the fervor of the crowd wants to be here and their chances of getting hurt only escalates the more their mobility is hindered.

Eli Vanto || OTA || De Chima

[vanto]

Early in the day;

[Eli is glad this event is so organised, after arriving he's set out to speak to some natives and imPorts — he's curious as to what opinions are held and he doesn't mind hearing the other side.

So far, so good. Despite the feeling of discomfort; resentment for imPorts ran deeper than he had expected, Eli puts on a good face.

After a while, he goes looking for a bottle of water.]

Later in the day;

[Things have gotten more heated and Eli isn't surprised just disappointed. Right now, the priority is to get anyone injured out of the way and towards the clinic.

Glowering, Eli taps a nearby person on the shoulder —]

If you're injured you should head this way.

Wildcard away!;

Early!

[loyal_soldier]

[He's received no orders on the subject, but it seems prudent to report to project HQ. They don't have much in the way of security systems there, no regular guard detail. So he spends the early morning checking over his kit before leaving it in the apartment. He can summon it as necessary, and travel to HQ in civilian clothes.

With public transport mostly down or detoured by the protests, he has to walk much further than anticipated. And the civvie clothes feel even more flimsy than ever. The crowds here are peaceful, but they're still crowds. They can turn within minutes or panic in seconds, especially if hostile elements have embedded themselves in them.

None spotted yet. But one on the move catches his attention immediately.]

Sir.

[The greeting is a little stilted, if the commander has enough experience with troopers to know when one is feeling wary. He has no idea how this will go.]

Finn Onaru | OTA

[fireandhoney]

Nonah
Finn is already uncomfortably reminded of the civil war raging back home, with these protests going on. He might have been inclined to agree with the Stormcloaks had their message not been one of "Nords first" and "Skyrim belongs to the Nords".

When the riots start, Finn's at the ready. It starts out pretty good at first, with him showing that he's an okay guy by dancing and even doing a few tricks with magic.

By the time it's turned into a riot, Finn stops messing around and starts doing his hero thing. Using ice to put out fires, slowing time to catch a random molotov cocktail, and so forth.

Finn takes a break, leaning against a wall, and sees a rather unflattering caricature of him spray-painted against the wall. It's a crude drawing, but it's him, and he's shouting a swear word in a word bubble.

"Okay, that's just lazy satire."

Wildcard!
[ooc: If you'd like another prompt, find me on plurk arwingyoshi or PM me.]

[am_i_a_monster]

Abigail uses her status as the impovision winner to placate the crowds and join the party.   It works for a little while.  As the night goes on, she makes the mistake of singing along to the music.   While some of the locals seem pleased to be able to hear the star, others accuse her of trying to hypnotize them.  She tries to explain that her power only works when she plays the harpsichord, but they're past listening to her.

She moves back from the crowd, doing her best not to look at the graffiti and avoid the riots, until she hears someone speak.  She glances at the drawing and back to the import that must have inspired it.  "Very lazy.   The others were much more creative than simply showing an import using profanity."  She gives him a sympathetic smile.   "Are you okay?"

De Chima | Open

[stylistic_disloyalty]

[This isn't anything new, honestly. She's heard it over and over again-- we're loved, we're hated, in two years blah blah blah. The anti-imPort sentiment is hardly surprising. But that's not why she's there.]

[It's almost divine providence, if Luci believed in such a thing. She had to leave Hades and move quickly before Inanna got their ducks in a row and figured out how to approach her again. They weren't going to give her what she needed, that much had become very obvious when they'd thrown themselves into her heat-radius and burned their hands. The image of which still makes her furrow her brow and physically try to shake the memory away. No, Inanna was focused on helping her get over this or some shit.]

[Luci would never be over Laura. She'd left herself open, thinking it was a step forward. Progress. What she'd been after with Inanna and then Sahkmet. A connection. How quickly that had been severed, and without any warning at all. What an idiot she'd been, thinking that Lucifer deserved anything except to be ostracized. She'd forgotten her part while she'd been sitting on Laura's couch in her underwear, eating out of takeout boxes and making fun of soap operas. The pattern of her life seemed invisible when she'd wake up in the middle of the afternoon and hold Laura until she'd fall asleep again. Wanting someone always ended the same way--]

['You're a bad person.']

[Luci slips through the crowd, taking the dirty looks in stride, dressed impeccably in her full white suit. Shirt tucked, tie knotted neatly, hair coiffed like she was about to shoot a magazine spread. Privately, she reasons that the neater she looks now, the bigger the contrast once she pokes the bear.]

[Baal had provided the location easily enough-- the 'Not In My Backyard' chat they'd had at her gala was practically a sterling silver promise that he would show up if she started shit. And that's exactly what she wants. And even better, she's fucking around with imPort-native relations. He'd be livid, probably. He couldn't possibly look like he doesn't have his ducks in a row when it came to imPorts running amok in his city-- worse, someone from his own place of origin. Luci rolls her shoulders and cracks her neck, should be a good beatdown if she plays her cards right.]

[Luci wades out into a lobe of the crowd, the very center, and she opens her mouth. Her song, usually so full of righteous fury and a call to rebellion, is angry and violent. Push, fight, take what you want by any means necessary, because the world will never hand you something nice.]

[At this close range, when the crowd was already riled up, angry, and fighting the power, a few people are quickly overwhelmed and start getting restless. Voices rise up in shouts, people start shoving each other, throwing signs, starting fist fights, trying to rush from the back of the crowd to the stage. As the level of unrest grows, Luci starts singing louder, her voice commanding the attention of people who have been pulled into the steadily growing mob. A few try to get at her, trying to direct their anger towards the nearest imPort, but she handles that by leaping onto one of the water stations and lighting a fire around it. That becomes her makeshift stage as she continues her song, trying to spread it as far as she can without a sound system to help. It's not the majority of the crowd by any means, but she's definitely turned one of the corners of the formerly organized and calm audience into the sheer chaos of an angry riot.]


((OOC: For more info on Luci's Magic Voice, see this permissions post! Feel free to be part of the riot, someone trying to stop the madness, just be aware that endgame of this amazingly well-planned tantrum is closed to some sweet god-on-god throwdown talking about feelings.]

De Chima | Closed to WicDivs and Luci CR

[stylistic_disloyalty]

[It's a bloody mess.]

[Luci swings from a flaming tree, crowing her song out over the crowd and feeding the frenzy of angry protesters with the thin reasoning they needed to just cut loose and punch some people and let out their stress. Even if they were just high on Luci's own fury and pain. That part wasn't as important as the escalating incident she's at the center of, and while she sings she catches herself flicking her eyes around the sky looking for the God-Police.]

[She should stop looking, it'll be far more satisfying if she doesn't see it coming.]

Armitage Hux / De Chima

[therewillbeorder]

open

[He honestly couldn't care less about the grievances of the natives but he had an afternoon free since his meeting for the day had been canceled. He had been on his way home when he had seen the protest and he had decided to amuse himself by watching.

But it turned out to be rather dull. The natives were squabbling like ignorant primitives but then again, what else could be expected by those who barely could get to their nearest moon. He rolled his eyes, ready to head home when he heard the argument break out. It was an opportunity that he couldn't resist as he grabbed the nearest native- a few quiet words with the power of command and they were sent into the fray, ready to fight.

That definitely made things more interesting. He stays to the fringes where anyone may bump into him. He looks rather pleased with himself as he watches the conflict escalating, not moving when a small fight breaks out nearby.]

closed to Bodhi Rook & Poe Dameron

[And this was an opportunity he couldn't resist. He made sure that Bodhi Rook couldn't see him, watching for a moment. Doing anything directly would violate the agreement but no one said anything about indirectly doing something. He would have to be careful, he didn't want to reveal this particular power of his.

He selected his target carefully, it didn't take a lot of effort to give the order for the native the instructions before setting him on his way to attack Bodhi.

Now the trick was finding a spot where to watch where he wouldn't be spotted.]

[loyal_soldier]

[He doesn't want to be on the streets today, but he has to report in to the Project Alke headquarters, and part of the commute is on foot. He modifies his route to avoid the city center, but it still somehow sends him smack into a knot of protesters, fighting amongst themselves.

Without official sanction, he has to be cautious. He can't call in to base for instructions, so instead he calls emergency services. Registered imPort TK-622, witnessing an assault in progress on intersection of 5th and Lake. Multiple participants, Earth human, minor injuries with potential for escalation. Maintaining distance.

[He was instructed not to physically engage. That left him a loophole he was more than willing to exploit. He armors up, and boosts the volume on his helmet mic, voice clipped and flat.] Citizens: Disperse immediately. Local authorities have been alerted. Repeat, disperse immediately, or face arrest for assault, battery, and disturbing the peace.

Foggy Nelson | OTA

[cigarbribery]

[one: world on fire]

[Foggy'd been careful, is the thing.

He knows Maurtia Falls pretty well by now, knows that the protests are bound to go horrifically bad, and knows that by all rights, he should stay inside, cancel all his appointments and wait out the storm. Only—well, he's a lawyer, he's supposed to look out for his clients' best interests, and right now one of them just used his one phone call to ask, desperately, for him to come down to the precinct and help him out.

So okay, Foggy had very discreetly left safe haven, like an idiot, to go to the precinct. He'd figured he could at least count on taking less populated routes, avoiding alleyways as much as possible but staying out of sight, taking the long way around, but, uh. Well.

Upon reflection, he supposes this is a bad idea. After all, he's cornered by a group of angry guys in leather jackets, and he really does not like his odds against them. Four on one is bad enough. Foggy's not even all that good at fighting, so he resorts to the only thing he can pretty much rely on.]

Hey, guys—we can talk this out, right? We're all adults who can use our words here.

[Oh, we're way past words here, pig, one of the guys snarls, a big, beefy guy with a buzzcut and brass knuckles. He steps forward, and Foggy backs up against the wall, clutching his leather bag close to his chest. There's a thin layer of fog on the ground already, but neither Foggy nor the pissed-off bikers seem to notice—but fog, in the middle of a city? That's definitely weird. Someone should come investigate.]

[two: thin blue line]

[The police precinct, on the best of days, is not exactly the most welcoming towards Foggy. Right now? It's one of the safest places in the city, but that doesn't mean they're all that happy to let one slightly bruised imPort lawyer in. Frankly it's kind of a miracle they're letting him in, although the fact that Foggy looked the desk sergeant in the eye and said he would fix their shitty coffeemaker and their shitty microwave oven probably helped.

So here he is now. He's spoken with his client already, and has also most likely been talking to other imPorts who've shown up, whether in handcuffs or just as visitors, making frantic calls as well. He's stressed, that much is obvious enough even from the rumpled appearance alone, but when someone comes on him taking a look at the coffeemaker, he summons up enough strength for a tired smile.]

Hey. Want some coffee? I promise it doesn't taste that much like cardboard anymore.

One

[morethan084]

[It became apparent, rather quickly, that Maurtia Falls was in complete chaos. Which is why Daisy was here to begin with. Not every imPort has a defensive or destructive power, but Daisy did and she was more than willing and ready to help her fellow imPorts out.

Apparently it wasn't going to take her long to find someone who needed help, and the fog creeping up around one area is what caught her eye first. It didn't take her long to realize what was going on, and even less time for her to react by using her power to send the man with the brass knuckles flying away and landing hard a ways down the road.]

Back off or your friend won't be the only one dealing with a broken arm.

[At least it seems his arm is broken from the way he keeps screaming.]

BAAL | ota | DE CHIMA

[selfconducts]

❚❚ SPEECHES

[ Baal is rather proud of how the protests have been organized and how they seem to be proceeding, even if he's not entirely sure where he stands on the arguments themselves. It's frankly nothing new, this sort of sentiment-- it's just like being a god back home, which is what Baal has been comparing the imPort experience to ever since he's arrived. Hell, it's largely what his ambassador platform was based on. What are imPorts here but one massive pantheon? They are loved and they are hated. They can be divine figures or wicked ones to the rest of humanity, whatever they really want to be, because they have the power to make their own rules... but Baal knows better than to see their role as one of anarchy.

They should be muses of inspiration, the Prometheus's bringing gifts of the gods down to humanity for them to either thrive or perish with. It's their world; the gods, and therefore the imPorts, are only temporary residents. He agrees that that time should be used improving the lives of the people who really belong here.

For the most part, all Baal does is listen. He stands somewhat apart from the crowd, arms crossed over his chest, so as not to visibly appear to be taking any specific stance beyond the ones he's already gone on the record as having, but if approached he may speak or offer his own insights. Otherwise, he wants to allow the protestors to have their moment to speak their minds uninterrupted, and has no inclination to gloss over what's being said with diplomatic white noise; he may have the charisma of a public figure, but clearly, Baal has no strong political instinct. Nor, really, any interest in it. He does things his own way whenever he possibly can. ]

❚❚ PUTTING OUT FIRES

[ Once tensions begin to not only rise but escalate, Baal knows that it's only a matter of time before he needs to step in and try to contain the chaos. Only a matter of time meaning now, because obviously, there's no time like the present.

The question is how to intervene without making things worse, which for Baal does require some thought; this isn't a matter he can rush into fists first, since he has no interest in putting civilians in harms way, and there's too many agitators for him to go after all at once-- god or not, he can still only be in one place at a time.

Lightning buzzes and catches around the ever-present pendant he wears around his neck, as Baal finds higher ground to survey the action from. He climbs up the fire escape of, ironically, a charming old brick building that used to house a fire station, and once he's atop the roof holds out his arms to do a double finger snap, like he's conducting a symphony.

Kllk, kllk.

The sky opens up with an ominously loud rumble of thunder, flashes of lightning crackling crisply through the air with precision control; it won't strike anyone, it may not even strike down at all, but what it will do is announce the downpour of rain that's about to begin. Even if it doesn't drive everyone indoors, that should at least take care of most, if not all of, the fires. ]

( NOTE: Anyone can assume Baal's thunderstorm happens as late in the protests / commotion as best suits their own threads and plotting needs. Obviously he is keen to get ahead of the worst of the havoc, but it's still otherwise meant to be very flexible! )

Speeches

[andtherevolution]

[Utena's lingering outside the crowd, furrowing her brow as she stares at the speakers on stage. She doesn't really know what to make of all this... yeah, she doesn't blame them for being pissed off about the Villain du Jour, but the Mars mission? She honestly didn't think it would be a problem, until, well, it was.

She taps her foot and looks around, and spots Ba'al out the corner of her eye. Well, if anyone knows what's going on in this city... Utena walks over to him, just close enough to keep her voice low]

So, what do you make of all this, Mister Ambassador?

CARL GALLAGHER | ota

[thirdstrike]

❚❚ STRIKING BACK | maurtia falls

[ Carl is not really on either side of this argument, directly; while it should come as no surprise to anyone that he is certainly pro-military, Carl has also lived his whole life as an underdog fighting to keep his home in a rapidly changing neighborhood waging war against gentrification, and he's not quite sophisticated enough to know how to reconcile these two positions. It's something he's been trying to figure out ever since he got here, actually, and still hasn't been able to come up with an answer.

It's too warm to come out in uniform, but Carl brings along his own approximation of riot gear to the protests: a baseball bat and a tazer, both of which he wields with rough, brute force, his military school training and how he's learned to fight on the streets combining in vicious unity. In fairness, though, he is very undiscriminating with who he turns either weapon on -- local or imPort -- and he mostly reserves that extreme for self-defense or coming to some underdog's defense. Call him a thug if you want, but he's a thug with his own sense of justice. A fucking honor code! ]

❚❚ LOOTING | maurtia falls

[ His own sense of justice naturally includes the freedom to partake in looting, once it's started. Since military school Carl would probably not allow himself to be part of the starting, but once it's already in motion it just seems dumb to sit out.

Carl wraps some gauze around his hands to make it easier to smash glass with his fists if he can't do it with his bat or a rock, and grabs whatever he can carry; food, tech/appliances, gift cards, the works. His invisibility power comes in handy to allow him to make trips, not even needing to carry everything in one go as long as he can store what he's grabbed at work (Dr. Chilton's hospital) for the time being. He doesn't stay too long, though-- as a store owner himself, he needs to get back to Heropa as soon as possible to make sure his shop isn't being looted. ]

❚❚ GIVE PEACE A CHANCE | heropa

[ Once Carl's made it back to Heropa and checked on his gun shop (everything is fine, thank god), he wanders into town to see what the protests are like here. Almost immediately he's ready to be pissed off by the anti-war tone to them, but the weed-like smoke permeating the air like a thick fog settles him down considerably.

A bit delirious from the second-hand high, Carl settles down by a fountain, just letting the chill envelop him peacefully. He's sweaty, bruised, bleeding, gashed, and scuffed from all the brawling before in Maurtia Falls, so he could use a moment or two just to relax. ]

TK-622 | OTA

[loyal_soldier]

Mistaken Identity

With the compromised security situation today, he needs to report in to Project Alke. No one's said anything about potential violence, but he survived as long as he did by remaining vigilant. That can't be allowed to change.

"Hey! It's one of those doppelgängers!" He stops in mid-stride, turning to assess the situation. A group of natives is watching him, some of them casually holding signs at their sides. The protest wasn't scheduled to start for hours, but some were already on the move.

"Registered imPort TK-622, I'm a clone serving the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps with a commitment to keep order and--"

"Haven't you done enough already? Just stop!" No, he really hadn't, but that wasn't stopping the natives from getting angry about it. He should have known better than to engage them, but now their attention is on him, and they don't have much particular grievance beyond his existence. It's a familiar situation, but without the weight of Imperial authority behind him, his options are limited.

If he keeps walking, they might follow him to HQ. If he summons his armor, they might take it as a threat.


Project Alke HQ

He can hear and feel the door being breached, and he's instantly in his armor. As soon as he hears the heavy footsteps in the halls, he knows what's coming. Droid's fundamentally don't sound like humans when they walk, no matter the shape of the feet: All metal and plastoid, no flesh. He can't even describe how he knows, but he knows.

With no proper comms channel set up, he sends a communicator alert for those in the complex. "Multiple robotic targets have breached the main entrance. Moving to engage." They weren't going to win this time. Whoever had sent them, they weren't going to win.

As soon as he's within range, he opens fire.


After the Attack

Once everything has stopped moving and sparking, he does a sweep of the facility. And another. Then he finds a quiet corner, with doors he can cover, and stands there, still armored up, trying not to think of anything. His heart isn't racing, his hands aren't shaking. But he can't keep his mind from wandering into places it shouldn't be. There are threats in the moment that need his attention, the past should only be instructive and strengthen his resolve.

And yet it's not. He's malfunctioning again.


On the Streets

He's drawing attention in his armor, but he's not taking it off. Not taking that risk. Not after what's happened, not when he might have to respond to more hostiles at a moment's notice. The crowds were out in full force now, chanting, waving signs, carrying bags, wearing coats that looked too bulky not to be hiding something, bringing children with them to something that half his brain was convinced would descend into violence at any moment.

Crowds like this didn't form often on the worlds he'd been stationed on. It wasn't permitted. It was either riots they had to put down, or local festivals, and the latter hadn't been safe on Ralltiir. They'd turn out to keep the peace, and sometimes they'd catch all the bombs left on street corners and the subversives with vibroblades and little snub-nosed pistols looking for an opportunity to use them on a trooper or officer, and sometimes they'd stop the fanatic with explosives strapped to them before they could get in the middle of the crowd, but it was never, ever safe. At least with the whole division turned out, he could be certain that someone would be watching his back.

But he was alone now, and the only eyes on him were those of the natives. Some of them angry. Looking at him, at his rifle, at the fresh dents and burns on the white plate. Something was bound to go wrong.

mistaken identity wooOoOoO

[h2no]

He hadn't even realised 622 was an imPort - he's not paying attention - until the natives shout out at the poor guy. Archie doesn't even look to see if he knows who's being lambasted before deciding to yell back. He's... kind of an impulsive idiot like that.

"--Yo, leave him alone!" he calls out, sending out Mightyena. "Ain't escalating like that the sort of shit that causes this trouble?"

Mightyena materialises out the pokéball, looking around. It doesn't start growling or trying to threaten the people who'd spoken out, though. That's not how they do. Archie walks over to 622, lightly bumping his upper arm with the back of his hand. He's got you, bro.

"...We can talk about this."

iris west | ota

[eloquentness]

knowledge isn't power;

[ This wasn't supposed to happen. Iris had gone through the proper channels to ensure that she would be accepted. She had talked to the organizers beforehand; she had insisted upon her voice given her business expertise and her growing Bwitter influence. By all accounts, this was where she would change people's hearts and minds. The people should be equipped with the truth, with the knowledge that the government just wouldn't give them.

Then right as she takes the stand, she's shoved to the side as two young reporters bulldoze her to the mic and insist that she's propaganda. That she had infiltrated a legitimate news organization - the very same one she had wheeled and cajoled for a year - and would be more of a liability than an asset.

She doesn't remember what her boss said in her defense, let alone what whispers were echoing in the crowd (or even how much her Bwitter mentions skyrocketed in mere seconds).

What she does remember is being swept off stage, and in that moment, as she's being shoved back towards the crowd, bitterly wishing that she weren't so powerless. ]

tending to the sick;

[ Once she's safely away from the prying eyes of the crowd and the press, Iris returns to the clinic. She isn't a medic; she can't provide care and comfort in the same way that her nurses and doctors might. However, she can brew up unlimited cups of coffee and tea.

So she stands in the lobby of the O'Malley Clinic, handing out tea, coffee, and even Redbull or barely-caffeinated rooibos to anyone that desires a drink. She has to be Strong. This incident won't get to her. She knows she'll pull through, and if she's blinking back tears as she serves a drink - well, that must be a trick of the imagination, because she seems as chipper as ever. ]

Hey, [ she beams, with a smile that's too cheerful to be real, ] What can I do for you?

wildcard;

[ slam something else down and let's go! ]

clinic!

[lempereur]

[ Yusuke's lost in his own thought while he's at the clinic, waiting. He's got some minor burns, from Luci's genius idea to set trees on fire, but even minor burns seem major to him. Just your run of the mill imPort trauma. He'll be okay if he can get the smell of burnt hair out of his senses. ]

Hm? [ They've met. He knows of her as Adachi's friend, more than he knows her on his own. There's a video already viral of her getting pushed offstage earlier today, but she seems surprisingly chipper about it. ] Ah...coffee, if you don't mind.

Lucien Lachance | OTA

[applewatcher]

Bad Luck

What a lovely, terrible day it was. Thousands of people, out on the streets, loud, chaotic, dangerous. Vulnerable, if you could only find your target.

He'd tracked one from their house and through the streets, moving with the mass of people in the streets, considering. He'd killed on busy streets before, it was a delicate balance of quick work and sufficient retreat to escape suspicion. The crowds had to be just right. And while the blades he had here were lighter and sharper than unenchanted weapons from home, he had no good poisons to his name yet. Those had always been vital before.

And the crowd was turning too fast. They were becoming riled, harder to predict. He'd retreat for now.

Not fast enough, apparently. As he turned towards the edge of the crowd, a nearby man's eyes landed on him by chance, and stayed, brow furrowing with suspicion.

"Are you one of them?" He really should cut his hair. That was the only thing that made him stand out these days. He tried to pretend he didn't realize he was being spoken to, but the man grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"I said, are you one of them?"

By Sithis, he hadn't even stabbed anyone today. "I'm just trying to get to--"

"You got that tattoo on you?" The man's grip tightened. He had one of his knives up his sleeve, right next to that blasted nanite ink on his skin. He could only keep up the helpless bystander act for so long. If this went any further, he'd have to defend himself.


Sanctuary

The crowds weren't so thick now, but only because they'd split into little clots of furious energy, roving the streets. There were smashed windows, fights, the piercing wail of police cars in the distance.

Not a time to be out on the street. Certainly not time to be drawing attention to himself, he had retreated to a safehouse for just that purpose. It was in the basement of a dilapidated old building. It smelled of mildew but he'd cleaned it well enough, and laid in essentials should he need them: Clean clothes kept in sealed bags to avoid the smell of damp, preserved food, medical supplies, and a little basic furniture to wait out a day like this.

He was feeling just charitable enough to let in an imPort passerby, in a brief lull when he wouldn't be noticed.

"You! Inside, quickly!"

Everything incriminating was locked away in a hidden strongbox. He could risk this much.

Darin Altway | OTA

[forgeabettertomorrow]

NONAH
-Darin's Warehouse Forge-
[Darin had been working in his forge when the protests started, paying them no mind. As far as he was concerned, whatever was stirring the public up, it really didn't concern him.]

[At least, that's how he felt.]

[The less he got involved with the masses of this world, the safer everyone would likely be.]

[However, it wasn't long before some of the protestors found his forge. It really wasn't exactly hard; the sound of Darin's hammer ringing against metal was fast becoming a fixture of the industrial city. Darin, content to keep to himself, didn't really notice the unrest he was causing. After all, he was freely arming other super powered imPorts with quality gear. It's not exactly a stretch that a few scaremongers could rile up a reasonable enough crowd for them to come knocking angrily at Darin's warehouse door.]

[Which is where anyone looking to disperse the protestors will likely find a huge crowd; outside Darin's forge trying to practically knock the place down. And Darin, by his lonesome, facing down the crowd.]

I have just as much right to be here as any of you! I'm not weaponizing imPorts! I offer my wares to everyone and anyone! They aren't just weapons!

[A particularly rowdy protestor decides he's going to take it upon himself to break his sign over Darin's head. Which...actually doesn't do very much.]

[There's a flash of anger in Darin's eyes. A dangerous fire igniting behind the green. But he quells it. He stands tall and keeps his clenched fists down at his sides, accepting the blow.]

[This might get bad.]

NONAH
-The Streets Throughout Town-
[Having safeguarded his forge, Darin is making his way through the craziness of these unorganized protests. He's just trying to get home. He even wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up to hide his blue hair.]

[He's just passing by when a small crowd of rioters/protestors decide to take it upon themselves to start overturning a bus.]

[A bus with people still in it.]

[Darin's just trying to get home without anymore trouble, but he acts before he thinks. He rushes to the other side of the bus, plants his feet into the asphalt, and braces the tipping vehicle, keeping it from overturning. The metal beneath his hands starts to cave and dent, but he's managed to stop the bus's momentum and keep it from falling over.]

[The other rioters run around to see just what stopped the bus from tipping onto its side and are shocked to see Darin holding it by his lonesome. They don't seem too happy that this blue haired idiot is ruining their fun...but he doesn't seem to be in any real position to fight back, now does he?]

Dammit...why do I always find myself in these messes...?

Streets

[ghoulking]

[ Kaneki has no time to deal with all of this, and deep down he knows if he interferes, it'll be just like adding fuel to a fire. So while the riot is on going, he decides he will just head to De Chima and talk to the rest of the Mars Team and figure out what to do AFTER the protests.

That's until he sees everyone surrounding a bus and words about some imPort who got in their way. The ghoul doesn't have strong loyalty to imPorts, he doesn't see them as a cohesive group he has to protect, but given this whole thing is partially his fault (not just his, true), he decides to step in - plus, it could be someone he knows, after all.

It's not someone he knows, no, but Kaneki still interferes nonetheless ]

This looks like an unfair fight, don't you think? [ he smiles at the rioters, awkwardly ]

[lastofthebog]

De Chima

[ With her own city more interested in a raucous party than in the protests themselves, Galla has turned her attention elsewhere. First on that list is De Chima and doing damage control over the out of context quotes being used against her. It's too late to stop the spread of the misinformation, but Galla still makes a point to seek out several of the reporters covering the event to speak her peace. It's not hard to spot her giving a quick interview to clarify her points and add the missing context from her quote: ]

I can assure you that if you review the original recording, you'll see I was— [ There's some angry shouting from protestors nearby, and Galla stubbornly raises her voice to match them. ] —concerned about asking natives to undertake a risky mission they don't believe in.

[ The reporter thanks her for her time, and the moment they turn away and the cameras are off of her, she's on the move to her next target, muttering irritated curses under her breath when it seems safe to do so. ]

Fucking ridiculous. Can't they find a real reason to be pissed at me?


Maurtia Falls

[ Her visit to Maurtia Falls is much more unfortunate. Galla arrives when the riots are reaching their heights, and even keeping herself to interviews at the edges of the protest turns out to not be enough to keep her out of the fray. She's in the midst of asking one of the reporters where the injured are being held, hoping to put her healing skills to good use, when a band of furious protesters realize who she is.

The first and only warning is a thrown bottle shattering just a few feet from Galla and the media. It's quickly followed by more bottles and stones, and the group scrambles to take cover behind one of the media vans under the sudden onslaught. ]

De Chima

[drivesadesk]

Jonathan, with a hood pulled over his head and large sunglasses on his face, was passing by with a large bag of fast food in hand, heading back to the Mars mission headquarters when he overheard a voice they'd been playing that wasn't his own.

As he neared her at a moment when the cameras weren't on her, he said, "Yeah, they don't really seem to care too much about context. Good luck, though."

His voice was low, not wanting too many people to realize who he was, but she might recognize his voice from one of the more...ominous sounding clips.

Which was also totally out of context.

David Klein || OTA

[setmatch]

[Various Storms and Saints]

Maurita falls feels like a powderkeg.
The pressure building all around as people protest, as natives cry out against the imPorts. They should leave. They should never come back. Despite the fact so many of them didn't want to be here in the first place. David hangs on the edges- blending into the crowd with no name, listening, but involving himself no further. And then the dam breaks, tensions boiling over. Like a whirlwind, it tears through the area- bottles breaking, rocks being thrown.

And in the middle of it all, David walks, like the eye of a hurricane, disassociating himself from the event as he keeps his steady pace. His eyes are peeled for any imPorts who might be in trouble, keeping a low profile for as long as he can.

He reaches someone who needs his help. Gently touches their shoulder. The moment he speaks, he knows the spell will break, and he'll have to rely on his charms and manipulation to get out of this chaos.
"Come with me, I can get you out of this mess."

Closed to Chauncy

[setmatch]

So far, his tricks have been holding. Blending in, making the people around him believe he is one of their own. So far, he's been able to skirt the edges, to turn the chaos on itself, to divert it away from him.

So far.

All it will take is one person to see through the act, one person to break the illusion, and it will all come down on his head.
Which is exactly why he's trying to get home as fast as he can.

He sends a message- because if he's worried about anyone in this riot, it's him- to Chauncy.
Where are you? Are you safe? I'm going to be putting up a ward at #5 to keep people from breaking in.

Too bad that he's had all the fortunate luck to run into someone oddly familiar.
"Hey, I know you-"
"No you don't." He smiles, he lies, he makes the lie so convincing. And it still doesn't take.
"Yeah I do. You're that imPort- you made me drop my gun! You can control people-!"
"I don't know what you're-"

It happens too quickly. A bottle thrown at him, shouts lapping over each other, and he's turning to run as best as he can on one bad leg.

in over head

Frederick Chilton | Maurtia Falls || ota + herr starr

[slightlyoffchilt]

01 | Streets of Maurtia Falls, main protest || ota

The chanting started as unison booming, passionate and forthright. Chilton knew how unifying fear and anger could be; it was his lifeblood, to peddle those emotions. He played witness to them. And now all that mortal pain and suffering had a microphone, now agony could be quantified with slogans and bodies -- he was only trying to get to his hospital. He established sanctuary there, they wouldn't come for them there. They couldn't. So he kept in the shadows but moving with the crowd, his eyes downcast and his heart beating. He hoped his celebrity wouldn't enlighten someone to his presence.

But hope was never kind to him.

A tossed Molotov cocktail exploded far too near his feet. Chilton jumped, instinctively, like a cat seized by the sight of a cucumber -- albeit, a flaming cucumber burning over glass shards.

"ImPort! Infiltrator!" Voices swelled with fury.

Chilton threw up his hands, panicking. He was but a doctor in distress.

02 | Maurtia Falls Psychiatric Hospital for Abnormal Conditions || ota

Nice to have a reinforced barrier at your disposal, wasn't it? Walls erected with imPort strength in mind, weeks of stocked provisions, security that targeted the superhuman -- this was a fortress. This was his kingdom. And Frederick Chilton had put the word out that any imPort who could make it to his hospital would find asylum.

He took great pleasure in that wordplay.

03 | Maurtia Falls alleyway, impromptu riot || closed to Herr Starr

Early evening. The retreating sun left cooling temperatures in its wake, and Chilton hoped those softened degrees would cool hearts and minds alike. Once more, his hope proved vain.

"Did you hear that?" He hissed to Herr Starr, his head of security. He wasn't venturing out alone again. "I thought, I swear -- I heard footsteps."

Chilton threw back a glance, already dreading the thought of confrontation.

01

[liontomyself]

Leo had already been on the streets, attempting to quell the chaos, and he had ridden in on a spectral horse, looking every bit like the Dark King that he was... more or less. The way the crowd gathered had tipped him off, having been a target himself since he stepped outside, and he found Chilton, leaping away from an exploding bottle.

This was ridiculous. This was too much. Threats of violence against a group of people with mighty powers was dangerous, to both sides. Leo raised a hand and grit his teeth, a strong pulse of gravity overcoming the crowd in front of Chilton, forcing them all to the ground. Unharmed, but restrained.

He then offered the strange man a hand, covered though it was in a black gauntlet. "Here. I will escort you." Wanna ride a ghost horse with a teenaged king in medieval armor?

Leo | OTA

[liontomyself]

1a.Maurtia Falls

That is quite enough!

[Leo is at the center of the madness, having gone in without a moment of hesitance. This city had it's hardships, and he had his share of qualms with this thing, but he was not going to stand by and allow the citizens to wildly riot, causing damage not only to property and to imPorts, but to each other as well.

He was dressed in his full plate armor, with Brynhildr under an arm and a an anti-gravity field that caught the various things thrown at him and repelled people who meant him harm. He was in danger, certainly. He wasn't able to deflect everything which would be evident by a large cut from a broken bottle that had grazed his cheek.]

Your right to protest ends when it endangers the lives of others. Disperse now, or I will bring every one of you in to the authorities!

1b. Maurtia Falls

[Of course, he is not successful in convincing the natives to stop their rampage. Honestly, he cannot blame them. Their anger is justified in many ways, but their reaction to it was unlawful and unfair to the many imPorts who try to do good, and to their fellow natives who experience violence and vandalism due to their disorganized show of wrath.

That said, Leo can be taken on his word, and he has... quite a few people in tow when he finds someone, anyone who didn't look like they were a contributing part of the chaos. Vines wrap around a group of about fifteen natives hissing and spitting and slinging insults as they try to break free, Leo holding to the end of the vines as if he were leading a line of horses.]

Hello. [He's tired, and it's obvious. The cut on his cheek has bled down to his neck and beyond, and that side of his face is now sporting a large bruise. He refused to attack the protesters but to restrain them though. He could take it. This was nothing.]

Who are the proper authorities to bring these people to? They were committing vandalism, arson, and assault, and they need some time to cool off, I think.

2. De Chima

[Leo had to come to this protest, but only after he had done his best to take care of Maurtia Falls. There was only so much he could do, even with the ability to control gravity.

By the time he gets to the peaceful protest in De Chima, Leo looks fairly awful. He's run down, bleeding, bruised, and in armor that has a few more scrapes and dents than he'd really like. It'd be easy enough to buff out with his magic at least, but his cape was in tatters. Maurtia Falls was a warzone.

That said, he's not here to yell or argue against the natives, even as they leer at him. He just wants to hear what is said. He has to understand it all, after all. If he wants to help, if he wants to avoid any further insanity like what had been in Maurtia Falls.

But he can't really handle it as well as he thought he could and ends up with his head in his hands, tears streaking his dirtied face.]

I just want to go home...

1b

[cigarbribery]

[They aren't far from the police station where Foggy's been holing up for the past couple of hours or so, waiting for the storm to pass, so Foggy—a little bruised himself, with a couple of bandaged cuts—just looks at the station, then at Leo. Then he jerks his thumb over at the station.]

Authority's thataway. [At least it's supposed to be. He takes a sip of his non-station coffee, having taken advantage of a lull in the violence to slip out for a couple of minutes to get a cup of good coffee.] Don't forget to say they were disturbing the peace, in general.

[A beat.]

Whatever peace there is around here right now, anyway.

Peter Maximoff | OTA

[quickfingers]

heropa: painting by numbers

[With Maurtia Falls having turned into something of a shitshow, Peter can be found later on into the afternoon in Heropa instead. Holed up in a diner, he sits at a booth with a platter of fries and a grilled cheese in between him and Rootbeer who sits on his backpack like it's a booster seat. Tail wagging, she yips at passers-by with an uncrushable spirit.

Peter on the other hand is a little more tired looking. His jacket's splattered with something, the remnants of wiped away paint that's marred the leather jacket he's wearing and has also freckled over Rootbeer's fur. It's paint. He got paint thrown at him today. That was fun? Not really. Hence the Heropa. And the eating of his feelings.

He tosses a fry into the air, and with a sharp little bark, Rooty catches it.] That's my girl.

maurtia falls: priorities

[Whether or not you saw him toting around Rootbeer earlier in Heropa, treating her like the precious cargo she is, he's back in Maurtia Falls later on into the evening. Worry not, Rooty is stashed away elsewhere to live unharmed for the remaining duration of these protests. And he'll be returning to her side shortly, once... well. He checks on his apartment and grabs a few things.

It's not a pleasant feeling to feel like an outcast on the streets, keeping to himself but hard not to notice; silver hair sticks out, especially on a guy who's wearing all black. He had to ditch his paint smeared jacket but a few splatters of blue (why is it always blue?) stick to the back of his neck and under his nails. Trying to get that shit off of Rootbeer's been a chore. He's more offended about that, honestly.

But he's trying his best to stay under the radar, though that becomes harder to do when glass is crunching under your sneakers. He knows he can bolt if he has to but instead he just... walks, pulling the hood of his sweater up and feeling a sickening twist in his gut as he looks over the trail of trashing that reminds him of just a few months ago. When Wanda's store and his work were vandalized.

This sucks. This feels like home and this sucks.]

maurtia falls

[mortalweapon]

[ Danger has been patrolling Maurtia Falls, her scanners calibrated to pick up any sign of familiar ImPorts. Not that she's ever been particularly beneficient or heroic, but she does look out for the people that matter to her. And it isn't as if the natives post any significant threat to her in her heavy metal body — not like this, armed with only glass bottles and the occassional blunt object. She's already dispatched a few small groups, even being so courteous as to drag the unconscious bodies into alleys and stoops, more or less out of harms way.

Somewhere in all the chaos, she spots someone vaguely familiar — mostly inconspicuous actually, with his hood up, but the hint of silver hair is hard to miss. She's approaching from behind, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder slowly and doing her best not to alarm him. ]

Are you alright, Peter?

Darth Jadus | OTA

[jadus]

De Chima- In the Crowd

He stands and listens. Unlike some imPorts, he has not been truly accosted today. When a native gives him a worried glance, one of the others standing near him engages them in cheerful conversation. When someone tries to confront him, they drive them off.

Every so often, he leans down to speak quietly with one of them. Maybe this is a power of his. Maybe not. But those who know his aura will note that it is being suppressed at the moment.


De Chima- The Speech

His supporters are now scattered throughout the crowd: natives instructed in a less potent form of his philosophy. They were not gifted, not completely under his sway. But their vocal support was just enough to nudge at the rest of the crowd when he seizes the moment to ascend to the stage, taking the microphone.

"I am Darth Jadus. A participant in Project Alke. I volunteered to construct the ship's life support." One of the natives on the stage stepped forward to try and take the microphone, until they came within range of his aura and their will failed them.

"In the year the Porter took me, I witnessed the fall of an immortal tyrant, who used his powers to create a millennium of destruction and degradation. On Earth, I have re-declared my commitment to the more equitable philosophy I sought for my own galaxy: The gifts of our powers must not be hoarded, all should know them as their own."

An uncontroversial statement, but those applauding in the crowd lacked the commitment for its true implications. Nevertheless, the words were a useful tool. His voice held no identifiable emotion, but it was fervent and steady as he spoke.

"This world holds potential for all, for wont of a means to achieve equality. I saw Project Alke as a step towards this goal. A way to explore this new world, and to understand the force that brought me here. Just as the Porter is a mystery to all of you, so it is to us."

"The Porter rips us from our homes, from our works, from the meaning of our lives, for a purpose we do not know. The Porter answers no questions, suffers no meddling, and cares not for the inequality it engenders between imPort and native."

"None of us walk without fear of its power. Three months ago, we imPorts experienced a violent temporal distortion. The Porter responded to an attack originating on Phobos. The only known casualties are imPorts." He had studied the messages that followed the event. They were likely port-outs that had occurred by chance, but the death and destruction of those missing days made it impossible to tell.

"For this reason, there have been calls to arms. That the Alke should be granted leave to defend itself." There were boos from the crowd, but he held up a hand to forestall them.

"But others among us have advocated for restraint. And in recent weeks, we have debated the necessity of a manned mission at all. Despite my commitment to sustaining our volunteers in this journey, I was swayed by my fellow imPorts. I have since privately advocated for an unmanned, unarmed probe. Its collected data would be shared, to fulfill both our scientific curiosity and to know the face of our fears."

"And these fears must be understood, or equality cannot be achieved. Earth is isolated, divided, and subject to the whims of a force it does not understand. But it need not remain so. Those of Earth feel hope for a brighter future, and we imPorts know this can be achieved. I know this can be achieved. I have seen history at work, and I see it here on Earth."

"This can be the beginning of a new and brighter era for the people of Earth. You must rise to meet it."

And with that, he relinquished the microphone and descended from the stage, re-entering the crowd.


Afterwards

His commitments on the stage are lofty, but relatively attainable in the abstract. On the streets today, however, they cannot be reached, nor does he have any particular desire to do so. Most of his supporters have left. But as the day draws to a close, those remaining have shrank into his shadow as the rest of the crowd becomes more combative and violent. With his size and obviously foreign appearance, he is an obvious target.

It was inevitable that someone would throw a stone. His followers flinch and cry out, but the stone has halted in its flight. It hangs motionless.

"This will solve nothing."

But the crowd does not desire solutions, only for their anger to be sated.

De Chima- The Speech

[vanto]

He watches the speech with rapt attention; Eli has knows the lure of power thanks to Thrawn, knows it enough to recognise it in others. Their magnetic personalities, the way they held words back until the right moment. It makes Eli ache: he misses Thrawn, though he tells himself he has come to terms with that.

Thrawn was his past and the Ascendancy his future, and now this place was a future of sorts.

He approaches Jadus, recognising his title as one used in their galaxy. "You're good with words."