maskormenacelogs | (no subject)

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: Jeopardy -> Heropa
WHEN: Nov. 19
WHAT: A resolution and a swear-in
WARNINGS: Please label threads

Somewhere, in a place that is and is not Jeopardy, time has passed. To some, it may have felt like mere hours; to others, days. For time doesn't truly touch this place. Only fate exists here, for imPorts to change or allow to proceed as it will.

Somewhere, the sisters look into the hearts of those with the power to decide the fate of this entire world and know their choice. A blinding light grows, forcing even the strongest to close their eyes, and as they do so, a vision of what could have happened appears in their minds. A world wreathed in flames, fire and screams echoing ceaselessly as they depart; a peaceful world, healed and whole and well—and a certainty that another world has paid a heavy price.

And then there's the sensation of three powerful forces leaving, two taking an unwilling third with them to wherever they are going. This world will be left as it is now, and its future will be whatever the people here make of it.

MEANWHILE, IN HEROPA

One week into the mysterious storm that has enveloped much of Jeopardy, citizens across the nation are losing hope. The government continues to monitor the situation at a safe distance, but cannot enter the affected part of the city, though one SEAL team did make an attempt, only to become lost in the wind for hours before emerging without ever making it through. While the storm hasn't grown, neither has it shown any sign of changing.

The heroes who bravely charged into the storm have not officially been given up for lost, but with no news coming from Jeopardy, few believe they will emerge unscathed. To honor their sacrifice (?) and offer sorrowful natives a means of coping, a candlelight vigil kicks off outside Heropa City Hall at 4:30 PM EST.

Speeches are given. Commemorative t-shirts are sold. It is at this point that a large portal of light opens up in front of the building and deposits all imPorts who entered the storm, as well as a confused but unharmed Layla and Sally Clapp. A stunned silence falls over the crowd — followed shortly by an eruption of cheers.

Organized chaos quickly reigns over the occasion. Medical personnel are quickly called in to aid any imPorts who might need it, and government officials quickly descend, one thing on their mind: what the heck happened, heroes?! ImPorts are asked to state, for the record, exactly what they experienced — which leaves a lot of room open for the more creative among them. Just what each imPorts is willing to confess to or lie about is up to them, but there are other imPorts at hand to refute or support all statements.

While imPorts are technically free to go, all are encouraged to enter the building for a debriefing with government officials. Those who care to share their story begin to paint a picture of what happened, and a flurry of transportation begins to move between City Hall and the local porter outpost, as Jeopardy will certainly require some aid now that it is fully accessible. Reports begin to filter back that while there have been some casualties and collateral damage to the city, it is far less of a disaster than the government anticipated during the storm, no doubt due to imPorts' efforts. Additionally, news from other porter cities begins to arrive; with the dissipation of the Jeopardy storm, all dimensional anomalies elsewhere have ceased.

Following the briefings, ImPorts may go home and get some rest, although they may have trouble shaking off the crowds — which are largely ecstatic that the people who apparently saved the world are in front of them.

While imPorts were occupied with the post-disaster debriefings, locals have used the time to launch an impromptu celebration of their defense of this world. Local restaurants, breweries and nanas have hustled their finest wares over, and free food and drink are flowing for the homecoming heroes. A local party & events organizing company has strung up some lights and tents in the park across the street from City Hall, lending a festive atmosphere to the area. T-shirts being sold to honor the assumed-fallen heroes have been 'edited' with permanent marker, going from 'FALLED HEROES' (there was an error in the print run, given the notice of less than a week) to 'RISEN HEROES' and are, regretfully, being given away for free.

For those who stay, an impromptu party breaks out, and the occasion quickly becomes the latest swear-in, albeit with a more casual emphasis on the actual swearing-in than usual; a card table is set up with the usual seals and documents, but it's a bit haphazard.

Along with tasty libations, local musicians start jamming on acoustic guitars in the park's gazebo, setting up some cheerful background music—or maybe you're not too tired to dance? A local physical therapy school has rolled in multiple portable massage tables, with free sessions for sore heroes!

The locals who haven't dispersed yet are also around, likely to seek autographs from the world savers, while podcasters, BlueTubers and regular nosy nellies might lean in with a recording device, asking for the real story of what happened. For imPorts who become too intoxicated or exhausted to porter home, many locals are offering couches to crash on — although the pillows they use may later show up on ePay.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mizuki's reaction to his statement leaves it more unclear whether she'd been in the storm and experienced the same kind of memory recall as he had, but he doesn't press her to clarify.

"You can't even reach..." he starts, gesturing to her tiny frame as if to say just look at you. Where did she even get these ideas? Those scrawny little arms couldn't encircle anything larger than--

Knock Out flexes his hand consideringly, then with a sigh, lowers it so that his wrist faces her and his claws rest loose, pointed down and safely away. She should be able to get her grasp around his radial joint there. Possibly the oddest hug ever, but perhaps it would satisfy her.

Nope. Just a preteen with ptsd, thank pokemon canon.

"It's not about reach..." she starts, a little dejected, because it's not. It's about the intent behind it, the emotion and feelings.

But then - but he offers his wrist, and she practically lights up and very carefully (look, she doesn't exactly know where he's hurt even though it's probably all over) commences with the hugs. Is the hugging awkward? Yes, but it's no different than hugging a weirdly shaped pokemon, but the one is a person.

A person she honestly thinks of as a friend, and it's that thought that gives her the courage to at least try her healing now she's touching him. Even if it doesn't do anything -she hopes it does though, just a bit- she wants to make the hug feel warm, like her mum's hugs. Warm and safe, like they could go on forever.

Eventually, after almost a full minute, she pulls away, just as carefully, just in case.

Well it's a little about reach, isn't it? Knock Out snarks silently, but then Mizuki has latched onto him and he wisely just holds still. It's not that he can't feel it. Indeed, his medic-tuned sensor net will give him everything from the pressure density of her grip to the temperature of her skin where it contacts him. It's just that it feels...

Slag it all. He's getting practically maudlin.

And then something peculiar happens.

Knock Out's been running an ongoing assessment of his injuries in the back cache of his processor since the OTO base. It evaluated all of his systems and gives him an aggregated readout in percent of his damages, and alerts him whenever there's a change.

Blip goes the percentage alert, ticking downward. Blip. Blip blip.

Moreover is the sensation of individual metal fragments being expelled from where they were lodged by the explosion. It's painful in a way - that is shrapnel grinding against living metal as it moves, after all - but there's an almost immediate relief that follows it.

Mizuki finally lets go and Knock Out regards her in equal parts suspicion and dry humour. "Something you want to enlighten me about, little racer?"

"Huh? It worked?"

Wait, what? But the proof is there in the cartoonishly bed-shaped keyring in her hand and for a second, she's utterly flummoxed. If he's asking, it had to have, right?

Unless hugs suddenly have power in this post-apocalypse world and she's pretty sure she's not missing a day. That happens with power changes, after all. "I- They gave me a healing power, but I didn't know if it would work on you, and it's cruel to get hopes up because if it doesn't, then you be upset, right? And it's just mean to get a person's hopes up anyway. So I didn't say. But it did... Um. D-Do you feel a little better at least?"

She'd bable more, but she's trying really, really hard not to. To the point it's hands over mouth. People need time to answer questions after all.

A healing power. There are a handful of imPorts that possess such a thing courtesy of the Porter, but this is the first time one's been used on him, and he has to tamp down the uneasy feeling that wants to crawl down his struts. He doesn't like magic, well-intentioned or not, and Porter abilities were of similarly ambiguous function and rule.

But he also can't deny the effectiveness. His self-repair was already optimizing on what her healing had done, even as Mizuki appeared to have to physically restrain her own chatter.

"I wouldn't have been upset," he settles on. "I am a medic, I understand risk versus reward when it comes to repairing others. For future reference, should it ever become relevant again, I'd prefer to know in advance."

Knock Out lets that linger, then ex-vents slowly. "But yes, it did help. Thank you."