need some blood in the cut.

[thecacophony]

WHO: Sal the Cacophony & You!
WHERE: All over
WHEN: Toward the end of January (for those who remain) and through into February (for those who return)
WHAT: Catch-all. That Oliver Queen guy said to watch over things, right? What a bad choice for a babysitter.
WARNINGS: Language, alcohol, mentions of past trauma, possible violence. Normal Sal stuff.

01. Maurtia Falls What do they say here? The other shoe has finally dropped? Well whatever it's called, the timing isn't great for this city. Not with crime reportedly already on the uptick. Who's going to watch over things when so many imPorts—so many genuinely good people are caught up in the consequence of something they all feared was going to happen eventually? Like those few others who went to ask questions, the answers neither helped nor comforted. Sal knows isolation, as a vagrant. She's used to looking after herself, so even if the wounds hurt at least she's capable of just pressing forward. Getting something done, instead of sitting quietly at home with too much she doesn't want to think about. And that includes taking advice of that Oliver Queen guy. Well, kind of. She can only stomach so much heroic diatribe but unfortunately he's right. Someone has to look after things; though maybe fate should pick better next time. In any case, there's a woman flying over the city more frequently these days. Watching and trying to find anyone who needs help (whatever the fuck that means). A gloomy-looking woman with a flashy red scarf flying down from the sky is sure to gain attention. 02. Jeopardy She's been here quite a bit these past few months, for business or a stray apocalypse or, well, whatever. That abandoned building she started using a training ground has really come in handy—and Lilith's magical wards are strong, even if she's disappeared. Another distraction. Another city missing imPorts. She catches herself lingering here, for reasons she's avoiding giving any serious thought about. Maybe she stops by a coffee shop, or walks along the sidewalk, looking over a sea of unfamiliar faces. And just maybe, on a particularly rough day, she sits on the steps of that creepy spider church and manages to look even gloomier than normal. Everyone is coping. 03. Porter Cities Fly-by She's neglected these other cities in comparison, but this is as good (or bad) time as any to get more acquainted with the other porter cities. Sal only wishes she had her bird, Congeniality, to keep her company. Back home, she always knew her (even grouchier) friend would catch up with her eventually. It made the loneliness just a bit more manageable at least. She stops and flies down to check on various landmarks, looking around for other imPorts who seem out of sorts. A nice person could offer a comforting smile or some kind of solace, but Sal's just another angry person who doesn't know what to do either. Maybe, if she's lucky, there will at least be a chance for a fight or some other kind of distraction. 04. Wildcard [Everything else. Want something not listed above, jump in here! SURPRISE ME...or message me for a starter if that works better.]

Comments

[constantdick]

"Yeah, I'm not getting the impression you're a card-carrying member of the cape and blue ballerina tights club," he says, talking while he stuffs a cigarette into his mouth. Which will get her an approving look from John, who's not much of a superhero fan.

He does indeed notice the runes as she moves to adjust the scarf, having an eye for that sort of thing, although he doesn't quiz her on it just yet, focusing on the question instead.

"Better to drink alone than not drink at all," he quips, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. "But I won't say no to company, if yeh feel like a snort." He holds the bottle out in invitation.

[thecacophony]

Sal's capable of a great many terrible deeds. But refusing a drink? Not fucking happening; and honestly, with the way everything seems to want to go to shit these days, she'll gladly consider this a boon.

Taking a seat on the bench beside him, she decides that a small break from all of this flying around and searching for a fight is well-deserved. She accepts the bottle, taking a long pull before handing it back over. "Gin, huh? Could've been whiskey, but I'll allow it." She gives him a small grin and a wave of mock-permission. At ease, good citizen.

"No, it seems like enough of those dramatic do-gooder types have better things to do somewhere else. Don't know where the fuck that leaves the rest of us, really."

As if on cosmic cue, the faint klaxon of car alarm starts to ring out distantly behind them.

[constantdick]

John in turn looks mock-affronted by the criticism of his choice of booze for the evening. "Well, pardon me. Gracious of yeh, I'm sure." The smirk that follows is a more telling indication of his amusement at the notion of having her permission (facetious though it may be), to drink whatever he wants.

Leaning back against the bench and crossing his ankles, he takes another swallow himself before setting the bottle down between them in something of a 'help yourself' manner, concentrating on smoking his cigarette for the moment.

"Taking matters into our own 'ands it would seem," he replies, apparently referring to whatever it is she's doing, swooping around out here. 'Our' being entirely a generalization and not specifically referring to himself, as he's clearly doing nothing.

[thecacophony]

"What a fucking mistake that was," Sal says tiredly, and she's not going to be shy with that bottle. Taking another drink, she slouches down in a similar manner.

Whoever lets themselves be guilt-tripped by some stranger in a green cloak anyway? Just because the ranks of imPorts were so thinned out, just because Superboy had to go and say something annoyingly heroic about having hope in their return. There wasn't any good excuse for what she was doing, and it sure as hell didn't feel very rewarding either.

Apparently it's more exciting when you're the cause of the disasters.

"That's the last time I take advice from that Oliver Queen bastard," Sal admits. She reaches up to scratch at the scar on her cheek, remembering the few people that gathered together in Jeopardy. "Who dresses like that anyway, huh?" She glances over to her drinking mate. "Too much fucking green."

[constantdick]

"Something tells me you're not 'aving a great time," he remarks dryly, master of observation as he is. "Oh, you know Oliver, do yeh? Well, that would explain it," he adds, taking a pull from the bottle before going on.

"We're from the same world, Oliver and me." Mostly. "I can't say I know 'im all that well, but 'e's an old acquaintance of mine." John shrugs. "An alright bloke, but 'e can be a bit much at times, that's for certain."