maskormenacelogs | OPEN LOG

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OPEN LOG

WHO: REX and YOU!
WHERE: Various locations of Maurtia Falls!
WHEN: Throughout July!
WHAT: In order: an armed chase scene, run-ins with disrespectful reporters, a confusing visit to the shopping mall, and various domestic activities!
WARNINGS: Swearing, superhero genre-appropriate violence!

REX OPEN LOG

[ i. a chase scene. ]

[ Unbeknownst to Rex, here’s the scene:

There are five masked robbers. After a successful haul, two decided to take the whole haul and book it on foot, because they’re about as smart as they are law-abiding. The other three chase after them with, it seems, every intention of killing their former allies.

Here’s what Rex sees: two idiots in animal masks shooting wildly behind them at three idiots in matching animal masks who are shooting wildly back, none of them particularly good at shooting, but all of them extremely capable of causing a great deal of property damage and hurting just about everyone but the people they actually intend to hit. It’s of no surprise, then, that even off-duty and in plainclothes he winds up sprinting after them, reaching for his own blasters. ]

Stop! [ He bellows. ] MFPD!

[ Well. Now they’ve got someone else to shoot at. ]

[ ii. rex vs reporters. ]

[ The life of an imPort is the life of a celebrity, and one that’s more or less passed Rex by. But the longer he’s here, the more he finds himself as the focus of unwanted attention, and no attention is more unwanted than the one he’s receiving right now, as he’s exiting one of his usual haunts and simply trying to go about his daily routine. Some questions are better than others. You may bear witness to:

A: ] CT-7567! CT-7567! We’ve received reports that you’ve recently undergone brain surgery? Is that true? Is it contagious to the native population? Do you feel this impacts your ability to serve --

Number one, the name’s Rex. Number two - who in the hell told you that?

We take the protection of our sources very serio--

To hell with your sources, they have no business spreading around someone else’s personal business --

[ B: ] Rex! We’ve received reports that you were on the scene of Cassandra Igarashi’s death. Do you have any comments?

Fuck off.

Is that on the record?

[ Rex, temperamental as ever, snatches the reporter’s microphone. ] On the record, fuck off.

[ C: You may think that Rex just has extremely poor luck with reporters, but then… ]

Ah, Rex! There’s our imPort of the hour! Your fans want to know: what’s your favourite food?

[ Dourly: ] I don’t see how that’s any of your business.

[ …or maybe he just doesn’t like talking to reporters. ]

[ iii. rex vs a shopping mall ]

[ Here, Rex is wandering around the Maurtia Falls shopping mall. More specifically, he’s looking around the teen boys section, dubiously eyeing the seemingly endless amount of clothing hanging from the racks or sitting tidily on the shelves. At the moment, he’s standing by a rack of bright yellow cardigans with stitched initials on the lapel with a helpful worker informing him that they’re very in right now!

He doesn’t look convinced. He tugs one out a little, muttering to himself, ] I’ve never understood who decides that sort of thing.

[ iv. various domesticities. ]

[ Otherwise? Rex can be found in his home in Maurtia Falls 4, at the shooting range sharpening up his skills, doing various household chores in supermarkets and the like, training at the gym where there may be a few people giving him dirty looks and murmuring about some water bottle incident, or jogging around the city. Or hit me with your own!

If you’d like a personal prompt, feel free to PM me or pp me @ Wisdombitch! ]

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[Guess who's been outgrowing his clothes, but is also still pretty small? This kid! He's reluctantly buying some new clothes after a training session with Kanan. Look, he's the kind of person who likes to use something until it rips... and several things have ripped, actually. Luckily nothing he's wearing right now.]

Me neither. Orange is better anyways.

[Obi-Wan wasn’t particularly fond of Maurtia Falls, but he did come every now and then as a kyber crystal cave was located nearby. It was one of the few places in this world that felt somewhat familiar and comforting to him.

After a particularly heavy conversation with Jadus on the network, the Jedi had sought solace there in meditation.

Done with that, he was now walking the streets of the city, just in time to see Rex get accosted by reporters. The Jedi deciding to step in.]

That’s quite enough. All of you know full well that medical history is protected privacy.

[Unfortunately for Obi-Wan, this caused the reporters to focus their attention on him instead.]

Obi-Wan Kenobi! Are you going to comment on your murder last year? How do you feel now that Count Dooku is gone?

[This caused the Jedi to frown and sigh before he waved his hand in front of the gaggle of reporters.]

You don’t need to know the boring details of our lives.

[The reporters stiffened, their eyes going blank and their voices flat.]

We don’t need to know the boring details of your lives.

You have better things to do. Be on your way.

We have better things to do. We’ll be on our way.

[And with that they filed off, leaving the two Imports in peace.]

[ Truth be told, Marturia Falls isn't Crow's usual stomping grounds. He lives in Heropa for now and it's... pretty nice. Warmer than he'd like, but he'd rather be warm than cold any day of the week. But staying in one place too long makes him itch, makes his mind wander until he can't take it anymore and his feet start wandering, too. He's never been good at sitting in one place for too long.

The bad news is that airships aren't nearly as common in this world as they are in his own. Pretty much nonexistent, for all that the tech is otherwise either keeping pace with or surpassing that of his own. Sure they have "airplanes," but those are cramped boxes in comparison to the luxury of even a freight airship. Trains are an option for travel, but Crow prefers to keep those as a last resort.

That's where the good news comes in though-- Porters. Sure, they can only teleport you to imPort hotspots, but it's still a pretty damned convenient way of traveling around the eastern coast of the country (once you get past the paperwork, anyway). So he'd been hopping around from town to town, checking out the lay of the land. It never hurts to know your surroundings and may even come in handy one day.

There's places here and there than Crow's found he likes best in each city-- a coffee shop in De Chima, a casino in Marturia Falls, a thrift store in Nonah. And so it goes. He's actually in Marutria Falls today, but it's not the gambling circuit he's hitting up this time (it's only illegal if you get caught,) but another favourite standby-- the shooting range. It's been a while since he'd had a chance to hit up the shooting range but he's there now, getting ready to sharpen his skills.

He's not the only person though, there's a guy-- some guy he doesn't recognize, a man with a too-serious air about him. But Crow's a curious kind of guy so instead of starting immediately on his own practice, he stands a respectable distance away and watches the other man shoot. ]

...Rex? Sir?

[he's finally able to make himself pipe up, after many many minutes of beginning to stew over what he and Andy discussed weeks before. he wasn't going to, but as the two of them were sitting, with whatever program Rex had on was on commercial, some image of a father playing around with his kids dredged it all back up and left Martin feeling somewhat on-the-spot.

he'd tried to just fall back into the trance of knitting, but with all that building up on his mind, he found he was making more mistakes than progress. so he gives up trying to detangle yarn in favor of detangling these thoughts and just...do as Andy suggested. try. learn. ask.]

Could I ask what you think about...something?

[ Ah, Ezra. It's been some time since he's seen the kid - not since Cassandra had grown seriously ill, and certainly not since he got his skull split open. He assumes he's been doing... whatever it is kids Ezra's age do. School? Soccer practice? Running facefirst into altercations to attack large men with guns? ]

I've always been partial to blue myself. [ He sets the cardigan back down. ] You must be around Martin's age now. What do kids your age wear? [ He pauses. ] Do you socialize with kids your age?

[ There's a good chance Ezra doesn't. The blind leading the blind. That's how it always seems. ]

Hm?

[ Rex is scarcely watching, really. He's been letting it play as some background noise as he flips idly through the paper, wrinkling his nose at some of the news and putting other sections of the paper aside as being mainly useless frippery. He'd assumed that Martin had been absorbed in this programming the whole time, letting his hands work on automatic the way they seem to sometimes.

He sets the paper down. ]

Of course. What is it?

[he exhales heavily, trying to breathe out the nerves building up to little avail. his eyes fix on his hands and needles, even as his face preemptively begins to redden.]

Would...um. Being called a, a father.

Would that make you happy?

[ In all honesty, Rex is the sort of guy who should expect to get on-lookers. He has a tendency to shoot with flair and the mere fact that he's shooting with a firearm in each hand is unusual enough to spark notice. He can't help it; he's always liked to show off, as much as he'll deny it, and he's got to keep his skills sharp somehow. They're certainly not kept sharp through his policework.

He can feel a presence at his back but finishes the round first - he's generally a great shot; his shooting's not perfect, but it's close - before turning around, removing his ear protection and letting it hang loosely around his neck. He arches his brow at the guy watching him, taking him in. ]

Can I help you?

[ Crow pulls out his own ear protection when he sees the guy turning around, which is convenient because it means he can rely on his ears to hear what the guy's saying instead of relying on lip reading (an imprecise way of doing things at best). He grins easily, nodding his head slightly towards the target Rex had been aiming at. ]

Just admiring your handiwork. You're a damned good shot.

I don't know how old Martin is, but I'm 18 now.

[Which is important when you're 18, or so he's learned in his time here. Also Rex just asked if he had friends, which is... thanks, Rex.]

Anyways, mostly stuff like jeans and t-shirts? And yeah, I do. I help Kanan out with his stuff sometimes and the younger imPorts also have meet-ups and junk. [He doesn't actually have that many friends his age. He didn't have that many back home either, or the ones he did were also rebels.] But if this is for him, shouldn't he be the one picking it out?

Edited (wait i forgot a thing) 2019-07-05 07:10 (UTC)

[He'd normally run into Rex on the regular for training, but since the chips came to light, he's been around more often.

And that means he's on the scene when the press ambush Rex. More than a year on Earth and he's still not truly used to this, but it's not much different than a pushy civvie getting up in his face back home.]

Please direct your questions to an MFPD spokesperson, not an officer. Be on your way.

[Almost, but not quite like back at home. He can't legally arrest these people, and they know enough about Rex that he's really fighting the urge to try it anyway. So when the reporter turns to him instead, his blank expression hardens into something more dangerous, eyes going a bit wide rather than narrowing.]

TK-622, we've also received reports that--

Please direct your questions to an Aegis Force's spokesperson. Be on your way.

[He squares up next to Rex, staring down the reporter.]

[ This wasn't Nightfall's turf, and therefore was in plain clothes when she first hear the shooting. It then took a while for her to find a place with no people or cameras so she could use her power to change into her costume. And, well, by that point in time the shots were getting closer.

She peeked out of an alleyway, just in time to see the people in animal masks coming closer.

Well. At least they were themed robbers instead of themed villains.

At just the right time she sped out of her hiding spot and attempted to slam into the legs of the two in front to knock them to the ground. Regardless of if it worked or not, she'd be back on her feet in no-time, seeking shelter if the targets weren't on the ground, and seeking to disarm them (with a set of heels, if that's what it took) if they were.

Either way, she had yet to see Rex, or rather, recognise him as an officer of the law. ]

[ Rex watches them go, exhaling as he shakes his head a little. Sometimes he can't believe these reporters' nerve. A part of him longs for the days when he'd been seen as nothing more than a particularly interesting bit of wallpaper. At least they hadn't been accosting him in the streets then. ]

Thanks for the save, sir, [ he says once they're out of sight, crossing his arms as he turns to face Obi-Wan. ] I wouldn't mind being able to do that trick myself. Mainly on them. They're relentless.

[ And have been to Obi-Wan as well, he's sure. If Rex is interesting them to them, well. Someone like a Jedi must be twice as appealing. ]

I'd better be. If I wasn't, I'd be dead by now.

[ It's a blunt way of putting it, but the most accurate way as well. When your training leads you to battlefield after battlefield, it doesn't behoove you to let any of your skills lag behind. It only takes one misstep to find yourself at one with the stars again.

Most here don't seem to have that perspective. It's strange, seeing how people interact with firearms during relatively peaceful times. He doesn't smile back - his is a face not meant for smiling, it seems, largely chiseled in stone - but he seems to have no inclination to chase the man away either. ]

And yourself? Is this a matter of career, or a hobby?

You're only a few years apart, [ Rex reasons, looking at Ezra. From the outside, nobody would be surprised to learn if Ezra and Martin were ten years apart; for all of Ezra's petulance when it comes to some things, the difference in maturity and independence between Ezra and Martin is vast. But their experiences have been vastly different as well. Rex had always assumed that naturalborns always progressed at a more or less static rate, the same as clones, but this whole thing has been something of a learning experience. Years don't seem to mean very much at all, at the end of the day. ]

I'm scouting ahead. The kid's been growing like a weed, and it seems like it's about time to stop shopping in the children's section. [ He's still small enough for it... but clothes are important to other people. He'd rather Martin fit in the best he can. ] He hates coming here enough without me dragging him around just to find the right shops.

[ He considers this. ]

Not that he ever wants to pick out his own clothing anyway. He's got as much taste for it as I do.

[ That doesn't come as a surprise with Rex's habitually bland wardrobe, all in shades of grey and brown with the exception of some blue every now and then, everything focused on movement and utility, with big stompy boots and hardy trousers. Unlike what he has in mind for Martin, Rex has no inclination to fit in - though he certainly does with plenty of military vets. ]

[Folding his arms, Obi-Wan watches them go as well.]

That they are. Though there are other tricks to avoiding the press that don’t involve mind manipulation. Surely you could put some of your stealth training to use here.

[Not that they should have to but being hounded by the press was an unfortunate effect of being an Import.]

[She is darkness. She is the night. She is--nah, just kidding, she's wearing a bright yellow hoodie as part of her costume Gabby's not even kind of darkness. But she is patrolling with Jonathan. It's part boredom, part getting to know the neighborhood, part habit. She is a superhero, after all.

When she hears gunshots, she stops and turns, then glances down at Jonathan.]

All right, it's go time. Ready, Jonathan the Unstoppable?

[He grunts, and she disconnects his leash. They run towards the scene. She can't get a good look at anyone's face from her angle, but it looks like five on one, and those don't seem like very fair odds.

She charges in, putting herself between the first guy and the robbers. She's got kevlar on under her sweatshirt, and she doesn't feel pain and can heal immediately. This isn't very dangerous for her, no matter how many bullets there are. But the robbers see an adorable little girl suddenly running in the path of their bullets. It's enough to at least throw them off, and that's enough for Jonathan to come from behind and bite one of them in the ankle. Beautiful, beautiful chaos. She can work with this.

Gabby grins and with two twin snikts, pops her claws out.] All right. [She grins, glancing over her shoulder.] Don't worry, sir, we'll--Oh, it's you.

[ Something about the man's demeanor reminds Crow of career military-- it's not just the face, unlined with a single sign of a smile as though one had never contemplated gracing it. It's the way his shoulders are squared, the way he holds himself upright. It's even in the way he holds his guns, to an extent-- as though they're familiar, an extension of himself more than just a tool. His words would seem to confirm that notion, a man who has perhaps seen something of war and come through the other side of it to end up here. ]

It's definitely more career than hobby.

[ The words come out easily and it's the truth-- there's really no need to lie about it, certainly not now.... Though perhaps the less said about his career choices, the better. ]

They're not my first choice of weapon but they come in pretty damned handy in a pinch.

[ His own pair of pistols aren't clearly visible (there's no need to pull them out of his inventory until he's actually practicing), but they're close at hand when he really needs them-- and with cryptids roaming the countryside, he just might need them at some point.

(Though he suspects a shooting range will be safe enough.) ]

[Fuu is in Maurtia Falls for a real reason now that she has three entire friends living in that city. She's also taken pains to keep to areas that seem less volatile. She's looking around for inspiration and for nice things to get her friends when she spots a familiar figure, looking rather at sea.

She draws closer to observe until she's sure she's got an idea of what he's up to.]

Excuse me... it's Officer Rex, isn't it?

If you don't mind me saying so, it looks like you're in need of assistance.

[Roland sees the interaction from across the street, and quickly crosses to get between them.]

I think Rex raises a valid point in asking you for your source. Because even if they happen to be correct, they just blatantly violated multiple HIPAA laws, and that would bring him well within his rights to bring about a lawsuit.

[The reporter stammers a bit about freedom of the press, which Roland quickly cuts off.]

And individuals have their medical information not being disclosed to reporters without his express authorization.

[A brief pause, starting up again before the reporter can get a word in.]

And as I mentioned before, that's all just assuming your source is correct. If he isn't... well then that's slander--libel, if you publish it--and once again, he's well within his rights to bring about a lawsuit, wouldn't you say?

[The reporter stammers a bit before backing off, though not leaving the area completely.]

[ The two in the front are on the ground, but the same can't be said for the three pursuing them, who look between Nightfall and their downed ex-comrades with an expression of faint panic, reaching for their firearms. At least, that's what they were doing until Rex makes the executive decision to simply hurl himself in their direction, sending the three of them toppling with a painful sounding thump; all three of them are definitely skinned and absolutely a little bloodied by it, but it's a small price to pay.

One's firearm skitters across the pavement, making its way to one of the previously-disarmed criminals who seizes it and points it at Nightfall, hands shaking, but not too badly to pull the trigger.

His aim's a little high. Good for a headshot. Not so good at getting a good shot. It's a rookie move. From the ground, Rex can only bellow: ] Duck!

[ What had Rex been expecting?

Well, that's a complicated question. He hadn't been expecting much of anything, really. Martin comes to him for advice on a great many things. Maybe he'd heard something at the Endeavor Centre and wanted clarification on the matter, or he wanted to speak on Cassandra's return, or maybe he'd simply seen something on television. Whatever had been floating around in that head of his, he hadn't been expecting this. He chokes on air.

They - and their relationship - has gone so undefined for so long now. Every time someone asked Rex about him, he's been clear; Martin's his kid, but Rex isn't his dad. That's not his choice to make. It had never been his choice to make, no matter the fact that he'd thought of Martin as his own for longer than he'd admit. He'd started thinking it that day he'd hiked after him, because maybe he was safe there, but Martin belonged with him. ][ He clears his throat. ] It's not a title that someone can give themselves. Where is this coming from?

[ That's not an answer. ]

Usually intimidation will suffice. It's rarely failed me in the past, [ Rex says, sighing. True to his word, there are entire compilations on BlueTube of Rex's unfortunate run-ins with the press, typically named things like Clone Glares At Cameras For Five Minutes And Thirty-Two Seconds or LOL HE PISSEDDDDDDD. Rex has seen those - thanks to Archie and his introducing those blasted videos of him staring at nothing to him - and has, with great insistence, erased them from his memory. ]

This time, I wouldn't have minded knowing where they got that information from. If I did my job right, there are precious few who knew what they did, outside the imPort community.

[ And as sprawling as the imPort community is, Rex frankly cares that anyone cares enough about him either which way to go spreading rumours. He keeps a low profile. ]

I see. I never much understood hobbyists anyway.

[ There's a minute, curious tilt of Rex's head at that. Crow's right about his assessment; he's a soldier through and through, in a way he couldn't stop carrying with him if he tried. Even in moments of apparent leisure - this may be training, but the shooting range is still almost meditative to him, and as much of a leisurely activity as he's got - he can't quite seem to shake it off. Not his first choice of weapon, eh? Rex has known a few like that. No beating a trusty blaster in his opinion, but he's been known to make do.

And he's seen others do more than make do, although he can't get a read on this man himself. ]

So? What's your first choice, then?

[ His question carries with it the general air of impatience. He's not, really. That's just the way his voice is. ]

[ Having Rex stare them down is one thing, and a thing that tends to work for all but the most insistent of reporters. Having two of them stare them down is another thing entirely. Up close like this, it's easier to see them as clones instead of the twins they tell everyone they are. There's a steadiness in their story, a uniformity in the way they hold themselves, from the tilt of their chins to the slope of their shoulders that's identical. It veers into the uncanny in a way that will likely be published as its own story at some point, in some horrible rag of a paper.

Rex hand meant to get more information out of them, but that's a losing battle. Probably for the best that they scare the whelps away. ] You heard the man.

[ They back off, scarpering with their cameras held tightly to their chests. Rex watches them go until they're no longer in sight, then takes a step back, shaking his head. They've always been a thorn in his side, but this is something else entirely. ]

I almost miss the days when they didn't think we had enough brains to have a comment, [ he comments dryly, turning to face 622. ] Thanks for the back-up.

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OPEN LOG

iii

iiA

iv. shooting range

time 4 the daddening

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IM READY

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IIa, gotta help the broooo

[ i. a chase scene. ]

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