(no subject)

[hatestrashcans]

WHO: Marco and YOU (also some closed prompts)
WHERE: Little bit of everywhere.
WHEN: September catch-all log
WHAT: Sometimes Marco's a dog, sometimes he's a hoodlum, and sometimes he's at physics lectures. He is a multi-layered human.
WARNINGS:Swearing, possible body horror/grossness, and underage drinking for a start.

The Laugh Factory - September 14 - Closed to the Joker

Despite how he acted, Marco wasn't an idiot. He knows who the Joker is. What the Joker is. He's not headed to the club because he's under any delusion the man won't be insane or try to screw him over. It was a variable that Marco fully accounted for before accepting the invitation because... well, he needed more money.

Yeah, he pulled in a decent amount with his party gigs, and he was setting up the racehorse scam, but that wasn't enough to build an actual company, and unlike Bruce Wayne, nobody was just going to hand Marco a giant wad of resources and tell him to have fun.

He knows what he's doing.

Besides, he likes daquiris! And sure, he can buy them in morph, but there's something about drinking as yourself and not having to actually make the drinks that really hits the spot.

So, to get into the club, he morphs the governor from his timeline. She's old enough. Nobody IDs women with grey hair. Then he sneaks into a closet and demorphs, opening the door as himself, heading to the bar, and plopping himself in a seat.

"Pink umbrella please." He says with a grin.

"Ew" - Animal repellant power shenanigans - Closed to Darkov

Flying is an amazing way to get around. Way better than the bus. Marco could probably buy a car, but he's saving up for some other things first, so most of the time if he wants to get somewhere and it's too far or annoying to walk, he flies. He's even got a sling he's managed to figure out so e can carry things like money and his wallet.

Most of his flights are unremarkable, honestly. He sees a bit too much (more people should wash their hair better), but otherwise, nothing weird happens.

Not today.

Today, Marco is flying over a street that he's flown over 50 times before, but his osprey brain has an almost irrepressible urge to dive bomb the hell out of some guy that's walking down it. Like, the osprey is pissed. It wants to shit on him, dive bomb him, peck at him... it's insane.

And, with his osprey eyes, he can see the tattoo. An imPort.

< Geez, somebody lost the power lottery. What is your deal anyway? >

At the supermarket - Closed to Jamie Reyes

The main problem with this plan, Marco reflects while standing in the narrow aisle of the supermarket and squinting at the spice bags, is that he doesn't speak Spanish. And he definitely doesn't read Spanish.

Sure, he can count to ten, complain about chickens, and crack a couple of jokes, plus catch words here and there, but...

Nope, he doesn't know Spanish.

Which, it turns out, makes it hard to shop at a Mexican supermarket.

He'd checked the regular stores, but they didn't have what he needed! Not here! They would have in California, where people actually knew how to make Mexican food. So far, Marco's only 'Mexican' food here had been, in his opinion, terrible. It was like when he'd been in Mexico as a really little kid and he would've shanked someone for a hamburger and macaroni and cheese, but in reverse.

Need. Food. Badly.

So he picks up one of the little bags and holds it up. Yup. No idea what 'cumino' was.

Marco sighs.

Dogs are happy! Play with them!

Sometimes, Marco just likes to run around as a dog. Dogs are HAPPY, and they have really uncomplicated emotions. Plus, everybody loves dogs. Other dogs like dogs. Humans like dogs (especially well-behaved, clean, friendly dogs). It's just fun to lose himself in the dog's mind, and, although Marco would never admit this, the pets that he gets are his way of filling his need for affection.

So he's running around the Heropa dog park as an Irish Setter, having the time of his life. There's a phone stashed in a hole with a timer on it that he uses to make sure he doesn't go over his time limit, but Marco has over an hour left.

And something very important has just happened!

A dog and their person left, but they forgot their ball! They are very nice, so he tries to return the ball, but they don't pay any attention to him, which makes him sad. Or it would, but now he has a BALL! He doesn't know what color it is, but it's nice and squishy.

Oh oh!

There's a person! Maybe they'll play! Marco bounds up to the person and drops the ball expectantly and then sits, wagging his tail back and forth. Play?

This Lecture is Stupid.

If you'd told Marco a few months ago that he would voluntarily be going to a public physics lecture, he would have called you insane. And to be fair, it was pretty boring. The only reason he's there is because the talk is about what they've discovered due to the presence of imPorts, and that's sort of relevant.

At first, he thinks the amused looks from a few of the attendees are because he's young, but he's definitely not the only kid there. After a while, Marco realizes it's because he's the only one there who's jotting his notes in a good, old fashioned *notebook.* Look, he knows how to use all the future crazy tech, but he doesn't know enough to trust it with anything secure, and typing on the phones is awkward.

He sits there for an hour and a half.

And then. And then.

Then the guy up on the stage goes on at the end about how this is all still a theory and they don't know anything for sure.

What a giant waste of time!

Marco scowls and stomps out with the rest of the crowd and, catching a flash of an imPort tattoo, grumps to them, "Well, that was useless, wasn't it?"

Look, I have standards when it comes to street art.

There's a gang running around. Hooligans. Punks. Which Marco would find hilarious if their graffiti weren't so bad. So, so, so bad. And so, Marco has done what any self-respecting trolling shapeshifter would do: He's bought his own can of spray paint.

It's late, about 10 PM.

Marco, in stereotypical hoodlum style, is dressed in a black hoodie (with the hood drawn up over his head), sneakers and jeans. The only thing that ruins the image is that Marco still can't get used to skinny jeans, so the jeans are... a bit out of date.

He looks at the terrible graffiti and sighs, then uncaps the spray paint and starts painting.

When he's finished, there's a giant red 'F' next to it, along with a teacherly comment to 'see me'.

And then he hears something, and he whips around, spray paint in hand.

"This isn't what it looks like." He objects.

Comments

Lecture

[mysterioisthetruth]

Beck had come to see the lecture in hopes of finding somebody - an imPort with powers - with an interest in physics and science to join his new team. It already seemed like a waste of time but he continued scanning the crowd more than listening to the actual lecture. He didn't need to learn about theoretical physics, even relevant to imPorts. At first he doesn't notice Marco and apparently Marco was too focused on his note-taking to see Beck but they happen to end up side by side and Beck glances to who was speaking, the key word 'useless' stinging an old memory, making him wince. He'd been working on his tech over his week of bedrest, experimenting on himself and it hadn't been great for his mental well being at all. But now he was basically recovered from Peter throwing a door at him, and out and about.

He wasn't pleased to run into Marco and at first, he attempts to hurry on ahead before he's spotted.

Re: Lecture

[hatestrashcans]

"Oh. It's you." Marco sounds less than impressed, "So you're not dead."

He doesn't sound disappointed. But he doesn't sound not disappointed either. Marco isn't privy to all of the details about what happened between Peter and Beck, but he knows it wasn't good and that's all he needs to know. Marco stuffs his notebook into his backpack, not wanting it out around Beck.

Street Art

[mem0ry]

Lain does not make good decisions all of the time.

Sometimes she does; she knows how to rewire pretty much anything, she's figured out the complex public transport of Shibuya, and she can do decent budgeting for her age, given what responsibilities have fallen on her since her father left. What she's not good at is safety. No one's ever really instilled the idea of a curfew in her, and according to the internet, the local grocery store chain doesn't close until 11PM. So if she wants to get Oreos there's no one to stop her or remind her to at least carry a taser or something. At least she printed out a map to carry with her and changed into an outfit more appropriate to the fall nights than her normal shorts-and-shirt.

At first, when she sees Marco, she doesn't process what's happening. Then, when it hits, she frowns. She's been heckled in art class. It sucks. Lain wouldn't wish that on her worst enemy, and it just smacks too much of bullying for her to find it funny. Besides, street gangs aren't really so bad. They just drink a lot and draw on things, and then they go home. Right? That's basically what most Shibuya gangs do.

"...that's mean," is what she settles on saying, maybe a bit quietly, but they're alone at this hour and the alley carries the sound well enough. "Art is hard. I mean - I'm sure they did their best..."

Re: Street Art

[hatestrashcans]

Hey, Marco was running around at night at Lain's age, so he doesn't think too much of it. Instead, he shrugs and turns to look at her, "Yeah, it is hard. So they should practice it at home and not on other people's stuff. If you want to run around stealing stuff and putting up graffiti, at least be good at it." He tells her, "If you're going to make everybody look at your edgy rebel bull-" He pauses, "-crap, then at least make it fun."

"I'm absolutely being mean. They're being idiots." And that meant it was fine.

doggos!

[threeisapattern]

That particular person is, unfortunately, apparently not willing to play ball right now, but that's okay because Stiles and Derek just got taken off his leash, and he's bounding over to Marco, tail wagging like crazy, to greet his friend, while occasionally glancing back to Stiles as if to say DO YOU SEE HIM DO YOU SEE??

"Yeah, I know," Stiles says, following at a considerably more leisurely pace. "Hey, Marco."

Re: doggos!

[hatestrashcans]

What? No play? But ball! Marco drops the ball and puts his paws on his head. No playing was the worst.

Wait, wait, wait.

DOG FRIEND DOG FRIEND! Commence the tail wagging and a lot of sniffing as the two dogs run around each other in completely ridiculous dog fashion. Made more ridiculous by how much larger Derek is than Marco as an Irish Setter. DOG FRIENDS! God, Marco loved the dog brain sometimes.

Talk talk words words... oh, right, Stiles.

< Hi. > The dog says into Stiles's mind. He sits as an attempt to regain some of his human dignity, but the attempt is ruined by the fact that he's still holding the ball and his tail is going absolutely insane.

Street Art

[thetrueeve]

[they have to meet for real IT IS REQUIRED]

Eve doesn't have what one would call a normal measure of time. Not in years or days or hours. Lucifer was a late night type of person, and she lived on his schedule before, but her high energy meant she didn't need to sleep that much in general. She always felt like she was wasting time sleeping. But she had early mornings these days and she was already ready to quit the grocery store and find something more her speed. She and Chloe are working on that part.

It doesn't ever occur to her to be concerned walking around by herself. She's petite and pretty and impossible to miss in her nice sundresses and high heels. Her dark hair is a mess of perfectly styled curls and she is lost in thought before she hears a sound she doesn't know. It's new. Eve follows the sound rather than going on about her business; if she was in a horror movie, she'd be dead a thousand times at this point. She's even less concerned at 3 am.

She rounds the corner to see a boy with a spray can, so that explains that, and she curiously looks past him to see what he's doing. Huh. Eve gives him a long serious look like she may any moment start to school marm him, but then she smiles. "I think you're being harsh. D+ at least! There's promise."

Re: Street Art

[hatestrashcans]

Marco starts. Not because he didn't hear her, but because... under the street lighting, she could almost pass for his mom before all the Yeerk stuff started. And because her response, whoever she is, even fits with something that his mom would say back before (or even now, to be honest). He feels a lump in his throat. She's fine. She won't even know he's gone. It's okay.

Except the problem, of course, is that he misses her. And he can't fix that. Marco shakes his head slightly to clear it.

"It's a motivating F," He explains, "See, if you give people like this passing grades, they'll just think they can skate all the way to the Met."

Lecture

[made_up_names]

It's been a long week. Peter's mostly spent that week cooped up on the farm, taking the occasional visitor or just hanging out. But eventually he just needs to do something. So here he is, enjoying the lecture. Even the theoretical part? At some point, he realizes that Marco's in the crowd too and weaves his way over to find him.

"Hey," he says. "You look bored out of your mind."

Re: Lecture

[hatestrashcans]

"I am." Marco agrees with a sigh, looking out towards the man who's droning on, "And I only understand about 10 percent of it, but...." He shrugs, "Hey, now you're here, and I bet you get all of it. What? Didn't want to spend any more time watching Kylo and Ronan almost make out?" He teases.

Lecture

[governorkang]

"Some parts of it were rather sound," Kang says dryly. "Just a few, though. The rest was very shaky."

Marco wasn't the only one manually writing notes, evident from the notebook he's tucking into a bag at his side. Keyboards and phone screens aren't really designed for draconian claws.

Re: Lecture

[hatestrashcans]

"Yeah, but on the whole pretty useless. I guess I'm not surprised. If anybody does know what's going on with our situation," Since this guy was pretty obviously also an imPort, "They're probably keeping it to themselves or it's classified or something."

He should have realized that before coming out here. Well, that's what hope gets you.

Dogs are happy! Play with them!

[by_candlelight]

Dogs were happy, and that was the thing Ruby loved most about them. They were happy and they gave her a glimpse of what that emotion was supposed to look like, and she enjoyed what she saw. Most of all, dogs were happy at all the small things ever, and that meant it was easy to get some vicarious enjoyment from the creatures, all while benefiting them personally.

So that, in more words than strictly necessary, was why Ruby - owner of zero dogs, groomer and trainer of like six that were later turned into the pound - was here in the park where the giddy little creatures made merry to their heart's content.

Ruby turned one dog back towards their owner just in time to see Marco come up to her. She instinctively reached her mind out, the sensation of a greeting following a millisecond after contact. Then she sensed something that was Not Dog, something she couldn't really identify properly, and she pulled back mentally, but not before accidentally transmitting the sensation of surprise and confusion.

And also not before freezing up and just staring straight ahead at the dog that had some very Not Dog characteristics.

Re: Dogs are happy! Play with them!

[hatestrashcans]

Ball. Was something wrong with the ball? Confused.

Marco sighs internally and reasserts his consciousness over the dog's, which he was allowing to mostly be in the driver's seat, because something was going on. So now he trots around like a dog on a mission, still holding the ball. Because, well... ball. He likes the ball.

Where did it come from? Luckily, Marco has some experience with determining that, since in morph he uses Thoughtspeak.

So eventually he circles around towards Ruby (though he doesn't know her name), and sits in front of her, tilts his head, and drops the ball, nudging it towards her. Play? Is the unspoken question.

graffiti

[plentystrong]

As it happens, Catra has been engaging in street art on the regular as well. She has no qualms going out in the dark either, night vision and all; so tonight, she packs her bag with supplies and sets out to do some painting.

Well. Looks like someone's been quicker than her. She walks up to the figure... and is quite surprised to see her nagging new roommate. She raises her eyebrow at him and points her index finger. "I dunno, I think it's exactly what it looks like."

Re: graffiti

[hatestrashcans]

Marco has no problem with street art. He has problems with bad street art. There's a difference. Once he sees who it is, he rolls his eyes and then grins, "Okay, since it's you, yeah, it's exactly what it looks like. These guys suck and they need art lessons. I mean, what even is that? At least the person who's marking up a couple blocks down knows what they're doing."

Which is, of course, Catra's graffiti.

September 16 - Mansion hunting outside of De Chima - Closed to Peter

[hatestrashcans]

Marco's strangely... muted when he meets Peter outside the farm to head over to the mansion. He's wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans, perching himself on a fence post at the edge of the property and just sort of staring into the distance without looking at anything. He hears Peter coming, but he doesn't even turn to look at him, much less tease him or offer him a smile.

"Hi," is what he says instead, "You ready to go?"

[made_up_names]

Peter, meanwhile, swings up with his usual enthusiasm - and stops when he realizes Marco doesn't seem to be having as good of a time? They're about to explore a space Russian abandoned mansion, possibly to live in it afterwards. There's not much cooler than that.

"I - uh, yeah," he says, caught off guard. "Course I am. Are you?"

History of Street Art and Graffiti AH231

[krookedcop]

Nanu is just going for his regular late night walk. He couldn't help but patrol a little, even if it didn't really concern him.

He wasn't scared of Maurtia Falls; he hadn't even really been pressed into a situation that made him have to defend himself. He watches this stranger, clearly not one of Team Skull grunts, actually grade the graffiti. That is hilarious.

So he has to laugh when this stranger actually seems embarrassed that he's been caught in the act. Nanu steps properly out of the shadows with a grin more befitting of someone up to no good.

"Oh, it's not? Looks like you're taking those kids down a notch. I don't disapprove, but don't let Guzma catch you out here."

Re: History of Street Art and Graffiti AH231

[hatestrashcans]

Marco exhales in relief, and his defensiveness turns into a wave and a grin, followed by a bow. "Hey, man, I have standards for my street art. And this?" He waves a hand at the Team Skull graffiti, "Does not pass the test. And they suck at stealing. Really, they're giving us shiftless teenage dropouts a bad name."

Not that he had to steal or that he engaged in graffiti. It was the principle of the thing.

"If Guzma doesn't want me grading his graffiti, he should send his babies to art class."

lecture

[a_good]

Marco is certainly not the only kid here - he is, in fact, a good five years from being the youngest. Norman doesn't get as many curious looks as might be expected. He's turned up for this kind of thing before, and, well, a level of oddness is expected from imPorts.

"Oh, I don't think so." Norman smiles up at the older boy. "It's important to stay current, even if the theory is still being tested."

Re: lecture

[hatestrashcans]

"Yeah, but there's 'being tested' and then there's 'waiting until the end to tell us all that it's only a theory so your attendance numbers stay up'." He points out, having zero problem engaging with someone younger than he is about the lecture. Marco hates when people dismiss him due to his age, so he tries not to do it himself.

"Besides, you notice how they didn't mention any actual planned research?"

Dogs ARE Happy

[helpdesk_hero]

There was something that David had intended to test, and dog parks seemed like the best bet for this part. Talking to Damian had really driven home the point that he hadn't finished testing his powers out, and he really owed it to himself to figure out what the files didn't say.

So a dog park. One where a solitary dog comes right up to him and drops a ball. David smiles as he crouches down to pick the ball up in a gloved hand and he gives it a gentle toss beyond the dog as a starting hello. And with that done, he takes his gloves off. Time to see if he can read animals.

Re: Dogs ARE Happy

[hatestrashcans]

Ball ball ball throw play! Of course Marco knows that it's David, but his desire to play as a dog is perfectly genuine and, as far as Marco knows, so is David's desire to play with a dog. There's no reason to announce himself. It would just make things weird.

So he takes off after the ball, tail wagging and legs akimbo, running like only dogs run with heady abandon and in a state of pure, single-minded bliss. Ball! He grabs it and runs back, already anticipating getting to play again!

But then David tries to pet him. With his glove off. Normally, dog Marco is all in for pets. Pets are nice. Pets are good. But David has powers, and he might learn it's Marco. So instead of approaching for pets, he nudges the ball at David, tail wagging.

The Laugh Factory

[criminallysane]

There's still a good twenty minutes left before the first act of the night goes on, but the comedy club's already crowded and loud, just the way Joker likes it. They've got a great line-up scheduled for tonight, they're beating projections on food and drink sales by a mile, and most importantly, everything just feels lucky tonight. There's a palpable buzz in the air, and Joker's riding high on it, making drinks and chatting with guests and beaming like the Clown Prince he is.

He's not really supposed to be tending bar--he is, after all, a talent scout, not a barkeep--but the bartenders need the help tonight, and besides, he enjoys the work. Not everyone in De Chima wants a drink made by the Joker, but a surprising number of folks don't mind it a bit, and he's always liked mixing up special concoctions for an appreciative audience. So when a certain underage someone plops down in a seat in front of him tonight, it all feels perfectly natural and right to him, another bit of good luck on a night already full of it.

He grins at Marco and slides closer. "Well! If it isn't my favorite mothersquisher." Joker starts prepping the promised daiquiri even as he speaks, his hands moving with all the precision and speed of electric eels. "You know, I gotta tell you--when I invite folks down here, half the time they chicken out before they make it through the door." His pour of rum is considerably more generous than it needs to be. "But you, you're the type who'll take it all the way to the punchline, aren't you?"

Re: The Laugh Factory

[hatestrashcans]

Luckily, the Laugh Factory is the type of bar where nobody blinks at someone who's 17 but looks even younger sitting at the bar, which Marco appreciates. The clientele has other things on their mind, be it the comedy, their dates, or their... business dealings. Marco's not an idiot. He does, however, accept the drink and salute the Joker with it in an over-the-top fashion before taking a drink, "Aw, you remembered the umbrella! You do care!"

"Hey, you dangled the magic 'm' word in front of me." That being 'money', "I'm not our favorite stuck up billionaire, if I want some cash I have to earn it the old fashioned way."

[darkov]

The boy in question is just on his way out from a pet shop, a small bag of fish food in tow. He's dressed more for some kind of tennis event -- all knee-high socks and visor and comically over-sized aviators -- than for simple errands, but this is what a boy designed for nocturnal monster hunting now designated a soccer player must do.

He's got this path memorized almost perfectly; if people would stop changing their storefront displays or landscaping, it'd be even easier, but the more he learns to read, the less he relies on the other things. Well aware of his affect on animals, he knows how and where to cross to avoid dog-walkers and the occasional squirrel.

That said, the last thing he expects is the voice in his head that is very much not his. It's so startling that he jumps mid-step, his little bag getting swung behind him and clattered under a mailbox.

"Wuh-?! Uh?"

What was that?!

[hatestrashcans]

Wow, this kid has no fashion sense. Marco notices these things. Maybe his other power is being a perpetual fashion victim? And this is from somebody whose morphing outfit was bike shorts and a spandex T-shirt.

And he... what?

Oh. Right. Thoughtspeak.

< Up here. Up. It's the bird. The one on the lamppost. >

He lands on said lamppost and holds a wing out in a wave.

< And man this bird's brain does not like you. >

[khajidont]

Jaime, on the other hand, is an old face at this grocery store. It had been one of things he'd sought out when he got here, painfully homesick for his mother's cooking and getting started at his own paltry imitations, imitations that never really tasted right until his mother herself arrived and left him with a cookbook. It's still not the same - nothing ever will be - but it's close. Before that, he'd gone to the hot food section and gorged, something that has forever cemented his relationship to some of the more maternal women who work here, always stopping him for a little chat, fussing over him even though he's not the scrawny, lost looking fifteen year old kid who had first stumbled in here.

What comes around goes around, because right now? It looks like someone else is lost. Jaime peers over at Marco, his own shopping basket looped in the crook of his elbow. "Hey, man. You, um, need a hand?"

[hatestrashcans]

Honestly, he did. He did need a hand. But it was embarrassing to admit. Marco flushes. He'd never spent a lot of time with other Latino or Mexican people. It really hadn't been that big a deal to him, even when everybody else made it a big deal after they saved the world and Marco suddenly was expected to act Mexican but not too Mexican, whatever that meant. Half the time, they wanted to make him look whiter, and half the time they'd give him shit for now knowing Spanish or what a chancla was.

"I just was-" He looks at the bag in his hand and sighs, "Yeah, actually. I don't speak Spanish, and I wanted to make some of my mom's stuff. That's all. In California you can find this stuff in all the stores, not just Mexican ones."

DOGS!

[moonlitpath]

Uh- Sure?

[Mizuki takes the ball and gives it a throw. A very, very practiced throw. It's no pokeball, so she tosses it a little further than she might otherwise do, also using this chance to look around for the dog's owner. She's pretty sure dogs in this park aren't strays.

Also, she doesn't want the owners to be fearful Keo might hurt their pet. Which the Alolan ninetales would never do, but still. Keo is a rather big kitsune who looks even bigger considering Muziki herself isn't even five foot tall.]

Re: DOGS!

[hatestrashcans]

[ It's definitely not a stray dog; it's far too well-groomed and healthy looking for that. But there doesn't seem to be an owner around either, because there isn't one. There's Marco, so he just runs off after the ball with abandon, butt and ears flying up into the air with a complete absence of dignity. It's only once he's back that he pays any attention to Keo.

He sniffs around the ninetails, then tilts his head and puts the ball down in front of Keo, wagging his tail.

Play? ]

Lecture

[bifroster]

"Until he got to the point where he didn't know anything," Jane grumbled.

She was disappointed in the lecture as well. It posed a lot of promise and some of what he said did make sense, but when he didn't back it up with any observations? With any math, even if it was theoretical?

"I'm not going to be citing his work any time soon."

Re: Lecture

[hatestrashcans]

"The point where he didn't know anything?" Marco teases Jane with a bright grin, "Did he ever know anything?" Because of course he recognizes her from the network, so Marco knows she's going to be absolutely fine with him teasing her.

"Somebody else mentioned that maybe this whole thing is actually just a bid for funding. In which case we basically sat through a science infomercial. I feel betrayed." He says, hand over his heart, "At least he didn't start talking about timeshares?"