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(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.

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A Viking funeral would help with the smell, yes, [ Rupert agrees with a sympathetic nod. Not that Damian smells (or not that Rupert can tell at least) but the joke amuses him too much to resist. He pats Damian's shoulder once, then pointedly wipes his palm on his thigh. Your suit really is quite dirty, friend. ]

But you seem to have survived in one piece, even if the three piece did not! A mathematical nightmare, that, but something worth celebrating, I say. [ He raises his glass - a red plastic cup - and gestures to the nearby impromptu bar. ] What do you fancy? They aren't letting us imPorts pay for a drop, it's quite sweet of them...

[ In a theatrical stage whisper: ]

Make the most of it while the sentiment lasts...

[ Yeah, okay, thanks, implying he stinks is a little far. Damian rolls his eyes, and they land at the makeshift bar with less enthusiasm than they could. God, he's been drunk for like a week straight. ]

You know, one thing the apocalypse in there had a lot of, was free alcohol. There wasn't much to do but drink. [ Also, like, dodge monsters. But Rupert's power made that one real easy, thanks buddy! He heaves a dramatic sigh. ] I might have to pass.

[ Impervious to that eyeroll and breezing past Damian's faint annoyance Rupert lifts his eyebrows in mystified amazement. Drinking through the end of the multiverse sounds quite doable. ]

Good Lord, the one Apocalypse I might have enjoyed and I manage to miss it entirely. I'm almost upset.

[ He sips from his red solo cup meditatively. He's absolutely not upset. ]

So they kept you well sauced, those Fates? Such kind hosts...

[ It turns out that recounting his week in there isn't the absolute best thing he could do for his mood, when he's supposed to be privately gloating about cheerfully chatting up the man who shot him a few weeks back. So he waves it off, but only to lean in with a suddenly hopeful look. ]

There is something I'd kill for, though — a shower. What would it take to convince you to give me a lift back to my apartment?

[ please help him, he is just a useless man who has never portaled anywhere under his own power, extremely helpless ]

[ Oh dear. The request pings all of Rupert's favourite flaws: his self-centered excessive generosity, his love of showing off, his... horniness... ]

Convince me? [ He beams in delight. ] My dear man, I'm really not that difficult to persuade...

[ He passes off the red cup to a nearby native with a murmured 'would you be so kind?' then turns back to Damian expectantly. ]

Ready?

[ He's not sure passing the cup off is entirely necessary, but hey, whatever Rupert wants. Maybe he's just got to maximize portal-opening flourishes with both hands free. So he nods, looking equally expectant. ]

I'm ready. Impress me.

[ Yeah, it's the flourish thing. Rupert would absolutely roll up his sleeves if he wasn't wearing his ~~FALLED~~ RISEN HEROES t-shirt, so instead he settles for an elaborate flick of both hands as he grandly feels out the edges of his portal with theatrical carefulness. Could he do this normally, with minimal fuss? Absolutely. Would he enjoy it as much? Definitely not.

But the portal he rips isn't a portal to Maurtia Falls but somewhere else entirely; reality peels away to reveal a disgustingly luxurious penthouse suite, empty and immaculate, overlooking a city skyline. Rupert smugly tucks his hands into the small of his back. ]

You'll notice it's not home, of course, but it is the most expensive hotel room in De Chima, [ He explains with absurdly boyish glee, bouncing a little on his toes in restless anticipation. ] I hear that even Bruce Wayne can't afford a night here. [ Lies, probably, but Rupert doesn't care. He grins. ] It's one of my favourites.

[ The cream and gold suite excessively luxe, but Damian had said 'impress me' so it's all his fault really! Rupert inclines his head knowingly and adds: ]

It has a shower to die for. And we'll steal the bathrobes, of course.

[ Through the portal is ... not what Damian had anticipated. He blinks at it, at the lavishness of it, the bedroomness of it, and then he blinks at Rupert. And then quite a lot of things suddenly slot into place in his patterns of thought and memories.

Ah. Ah. He supposes quite a few things he's said to the man could be misconstrued. And Rupert's apology basket is certainly easy to put in this light, in retrospect. For a man who reads people so well, Damian has really been embarrassingly oblivious so far. It's just -- he's supposed to be the one flirting with an attractive man, not the other way around.

He needs a few more seconds to consider his options. To buy time, he goes with a faintly startled: ]

I didn't actually realize this would be a we thing.

[ Ah. Ah. Rupert's mind is racing, practically somersaulting, as he quickly replays all of their previous conversations in the theatre of his mind. Surely he wasn't mistaken? How could Damian have possibly said half the things he had without realising the insinuations? Rupert had thought him... cleverer than that. His smile doesn't falter but he cants his head sharply. ]

Did you not? Really?

[ He hmphs a little, a breathy snort of disbelief. ]

Do keep up.

[ STILL. If Damian truly didn't mean it and this is all some disgustingly farcical misunderstanding, Rupert isn't exactly the type to hold him to his word or anything. This is an annoyance but it's hardly the end of the world. He purses his lips, shrugs nonchalantly, and waves a breezy hand at the hotel suite beyond the portal. ]

Well, look here - I'm going in. Join me if you do fancy making this a 'we' thing. [ And just so there's no misunderstanding, he clarifies: ] For one night only, of course. I don't do extended 'we' things.

[ His mind races, weighing options against options. It's not as if he'd have any complaints about the arrangement, Rupert is an attractive man — issues only start to arise when he considers intimacy without David's power suppressor. (And then of course there's the issue of David himself ... but is that an issue? Maybe not. There are no official ties.)

But he has getting better at not shifting form against his will, and he supposes he could come up with some excuse about working around the contact power he's copied from David ... and there's no question that it would be an unbearably amusing next level of the game between him and Rupert. The one Rupert doesn't realize they're playing.

That's really what seals it. With just a few seconds of quick thought, Damian shrugs, steps past Rupert, and ducks into the portal. ]

I'm not usually one for stealing — [ ha. ] But something tells me a place like this can spare the expense.

[ Rupert's expression settles into one of smug approval as Damian disappears through the portal. ]

That's the spirit. We'll make a criminal of you yet.

[ The hotel suite looks like it's been carefully curated to Instagram influencer standards: thick cream carpets, golden mirrors on every wall, a lofty ceiling punctuated with an interestingly intricate light installation, an expansive stretch of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking De Chima. Rupert knows it well. He nods along a corridor, towards a lavish marble bathroom. ]

There - shower is in that direction. Although I wouldn't blame you if you went for a bath instead, you can do the backstroke in that thing...

[ And with that he pads away to flick the internal lock across the door, just in case any overzealous night managers happens to patrol the top floor corridor. You never know. ]

[ This strikes him as a stupid chance Rupert is taking. He'd never use the portals this way, it would be too easy to get caught somewhere you can't afford to be. Doing things above board is almost always worth the hassle of paying. (Then again, he has to grant that Rupert doesn't seem like a man to mind having the police called on him over some trespassing, so maybe the risk is a moot point to him.)

But either way, he pretends not to see that business with the lock, and steps through the room with an admiring, appreciative eye. Everything else aside, really, what a place to be. What magnificent light fixtures. ]

This is a hell of a suite. Do you take advantage of it often?

Often enough, [ Rupert replies with a satisfied grin, sliding into a luxurious couch with the same colour and richness as double cream. ] It's practically a second home.

[ Perhaps maybe a third, fourth, or fifth home, considering how many places Rupert bounces between nowadays. He picks a speck of non-existent dust from his trouser knee, flicking it aside with airy nonchalance. ]

That's the curious thing about this portal business, I suppose. I'm no longer so attached to the idea of one fixed place being 'home'...

[ He smiles blithely. ]

And why should I? The whole world has been opened up to me and I'm determined to make the very most of it. All kinds of interesting places are home to me now.

[ Whether the owners like it or not. ]

[ He makes a thoughtful noise, trailing after Rupert. He really should do something about the state of himself, but without a change of clothes, he doesn't feel like resigning himself to the bathrobed lifestyle just yet. He leans against the back of the couch above him, watching Rupert thoughtfully. ]

That makes sense ... I could never, though. I like the comfort of a home, too many homes is too many places to misplace things. [ All lies, he's been living for squirreling various things away in various places with Rupert's power; his room in Maurtia Falls is as barebones and impersonal as a room can be. ] But I'm glad you make use of it. It's a pretty fitting power for you.

[ See, Rupert rather likes being one of the misplaced things. Difficult to find unless he wants to be. An emotional vagrant, living lightly but not meanly, flitting from place to place. Enjoying an hour here, a day there, rolling out of bed in the morning and stepping out into a different timezone. He grins boyishly up at Damian leaning over the couch above him. Yes, it is a pretty fitting power. ]

I do wear it rather well, [ He agrees. The idea that his power is no longer strictly just his is an ugly little canker festering in the back of Rupert's mind, but that's an issue to be dealt with another day. There are prettier things to focus on right now. He regards Damian thoughtfully for a moment, scrutinising the planes and curves of his features. The colour of his hair under this ridiculously opulent lighting fixture above them. Redheads are mostly awful, in Rupert's experience. He pats the couch beside him. ]

Come on, if you're going to smear your suit all over the back of the upholstery then you may as well do it properly.

[ Damian is happy to take that moment to regard Rupert in turn, and does it with a small, faint smile. He is a good looking man, that's certainly true, but Damian can't help but appreciate the other aspects of him. The current cluelessness, the temper he knows resides somewhere in there, and the way it would undoubtedly flare if he knew the full context of this meeting. His small smile curls up just slightly, and he wonders how that stab at his side has fared. It must have been healed by someone, surely. It would only have been lethal if left absolutely untreated, but he'd definitely be favoring his side without some kind of powers-based intervention.

Rupert's invitation pulls him out of thought, and the smile fades into a well-practiced faintly embarrassed look. ]

Before anything else, I should mention there's a caveat here. And frankly I'll understand if it's something you don't want to work around.

Oh? A caveat, you say.

[ Rupert isn't sure that there's anything back in his time that could shock him or put him off his game entirely. But here, in this very modern world with these very modern people, there's still an edge of the unknown. Kinks have only gotten kinkier, dirty minds have only gotten dirtier. A caveat could be anything.

He sits a little straighter and folds an arm over the back of the couch, giving Damian his full and undivided attention. ]

This is either going to be terribly exciting or terribly annoying, isn't it?

[ He sighs, a long suffering look coming over him, as he lifts a hand to inspect his own open palm. ]

It took a while, but I developed another power here. It's a sort of telepathy — with skin-to-skin contact, I can sort of faintly sense another person's power. [ Just enough truth for the improbable seeming event that Rupert asks him to prove it by touching any imPorts. ] It's not the most useful thing I've ever heard of, and it comes with a migraine penalty for too many distinct touches within a short span of time. Sustained is fine, but ...

[ He offers a shrug. It's doable (he would know), but a sometimes ridiculous-feeling obstacle to work around. ]

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