i believe it's better to inflict than to attempt relief; [open]

[blondtactician]

WHO: Armin Arlert and YOU (open)
WHERE: various locations in Heropa
WHEN: 2/24 - 2/26
WHAT: Armin's infected. He's likely to try to lure you somewhere and attack you, with either blades or a home made chlorine gas bomb. Fun, right? See OOC notes at the bottom of the page.
WARNINGS: Violence of the stabbing or poison gas kind! Yelling! Teenagers!

YOUR HORNET MIND-CLONE IS: Allen Hill, who has visceral reactions to imPorts, even the very mention of them. Has a thirst for vengeance, a bit on the bloodthirsty side, but does not think his actions through carefully.

A. TUESDAY MORNING, EARLY [open to the first reply]

[Armin might say later that it was the writing on the wall or something as cryptic as that. As he's booking it toward the Porter in full gear, hood up, he sees a flashing billboard: something innocuous, offering discounts for registered imPorts or something like that. He comes to a dead halt. He's angry, suddenly.

Angrier than he can ever remember being in his entire short life.

Usually, when things anger him, he thinks around it. Tries to understand the situation from every angle, assess, and plan action if appropriate. Now, he's too angry to even think clearly, and it's just from seeing the word imPorts. He has to turn around to make sure he won't have to see it for a moment.

He sees another imPort walking by and thinks, No. I have to do something about that.]


B. TUESDAY AFTERNOON, A HARDWARE OR GENERAL GOODS STORE - OPEN TO ALL!

[Armin's since ditched his gear and uniform. It's really not such an odd thing for a young man in Florida to be buying chlorine tablets to clean the pool. And why not a lot, because they're cheaper to buy in a big bucket? For the time being, he seems perfectly normal. The tub is heavy, so he has to carry it with both arms. Upper body strength has never much been his thing. He's fidgeting a little in line, humming along with the bland music on the radio.

ALTERNATIVELY, he's simply buying a basket almost comically full of rubbing alcohol at a different store.

But this mild moment could change, of course, depending on his company.]


C. TUESDAY AND WEDNESDAY EVENING - open to all!

[Armin sits perched on the roof of a building in one of Heropa's more bustling neighborhoods, the domain of a fine cocktail or a nice cup of coffee. For now he's just watching the crowd, but every now and then he spots someone he recognizes as an imPort and calls down:]

Hey! You're a Hero, right? Can you help me? I think there's a cat up here in the vents, I can here it crying but I can't reach it, I think it's hurt...!

[He's waiting. Those who might approach him on the roof without his knowledge might notice he's outfitted with his 3d gear and blades, and waiting to shove a chlorine tablet into a soda bottle full of rubbing alcohol and lob it at his unsuspecting victim.

If you're lured into his trap... you'll be lobbed with the 'bomb', which produces a small explosion and more alarmingly, a cloud of chlorine gas that may blind you, burn your lungs, or cause a myriad of other problems.]


D. WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON - open to residents of #016.

[Maybe it's just your imagination, but does it seem like Armin's in a Mood lately? He doesn't call out a friendly hello when he gets home, nor hang out in the common area. Apparently he's completely run out of his usually-plentiful smiles and small talk. He takes his meals in his room and is clearly avoiding speaking to anyone. Right now, he's making peanut butter sandwiches in a tidy row. By his expression, one would think he's sending off these dozen sandwiches to be executed.

It's kind of a lot of food. But, he is a growing boy.]


E. THURSDAY MORNING - closed to Jaime (khajidont)

[Armin texts Jaime the night before to ask him to go on a jog with him in the wee hours, stating he doesn't feel safe to go on his own lately but he "needs his routine". Jaime is a good person, Armin's sure he can handle getting up early for a friend's sake just this once.

He asked Jaime to meet him at a nearby park. Currently he's stretching, dressed in soft running clothes. He's a little more covered up than one might want to be in Florida, but he's always been on the slightly modest side.]


[OOC: Jaime will be the one to take down / stop Armin in the end. If your character attacks Armin in self-defense, be appraised that he may use his power of persuasive voice to distract yours or do whatever he needs to in order to escape! Please PM me or contact me on plurk (alienchrist) for questions or details!]

Comments

Option B!

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty dislikes hardware stores. She always feels like she's talked down to in them - which is ridiculous, because back in school, she learned how to rewire a house, just like all her classmates; she learned the basics of the plumber's trade, how to paint a house. She'd been clever and wordy more than strong and good with her hands, so she'd been pushed into the classes to make her a secretary when she was nearing graduation, but like everyone else she'd learned the basics of those trades.

So Kitty's in a rather irritable mood as she stands and browses the lightbulbs. Fortunately, she sees someone who'll brighten her day just a little, she thinks. She looks over and sees - ]

Oh - Armin.

[blondtactician]

[Armin flashes a brief, awkward smile, stepping out of line to go speak to Kitty. It's not really fun to lug around the tub, but he can always use the extra workout.]

Hi Kitty! How are you?

[rathercommon]

I'm doing all right.

[ Kitty looks down at that tub, then up again. And she smiles back at Armin. ]

Do you need a hand?

[blondtactician]

No. I don't need help. [Armin speaks sharply. Anger floods him like a wave of heat, culminating as a flush in his cheeks. Not from the likes of you. He can barely restrain himself from saying. If he attacks her here, there are cameras. The issue of cameras is why he's been shopping around in the first place.] Are you busy, though? I was thinking of getting some... [VENGEANCE. Wait no] food. Want to come?

[rathercommon]

[ He sounds...stressed? Suddenly? Her brows draw together, and she frowns very slightly. Why...? A little awkwardly, she fiddles with a lock of her hair, trying to figure out the source of the sharpness in his voice. ]

Um - [ She hesitates a moment longer, then says: ] Sure. My cafe's just around the corner from here. Want to go there?

a

[quinque]

[ The other imPort is Suzuya, surprise! He often strolls aimlessly around the city on his days off, and today is not an exception. There's nothing fun to do when you're sitting in your room all day, how boring.

The sign catches his attention too at the same word--imPort, but not for the same reasons. ]

I bet there's a catch they're not telling you about...

[ He's learned his lesson from last time. ]

[blondtactician]

[Even when Armin finds someone's presence troublesome he's able to be kind and polite to them. He's even able to laugh and cooperate with his worst enemies when it comes down to it. But today is different, somehow, and he can't restrain a glare he has for Suzuya.

Selfish, heedless Suzuya! He's exactly kind of imPort the world needs to be rid of most.]

It's still a pretty good deal, handing stuff out for free just because they're imPorts. Typical.

[quinque]

[ It probably goes without saying that Suzuya doesn't notice. Or no, it isn't that he doesn't notice; he's a perceptive little thing, and he can sense Armin's hostility for him right away, but he chooses not to react. He can't think of anything Armin would have against him, other than the annoyance of having to bail him out the one time.

So, he tilts his head, shoving his hands idly into his pockets. ]

Mm, sounds like a good deal to me. How are we supposed to protect anyone on an empty stomach?

[blondtactician]

We?! I'm not like you!

[Armin feels his voice raising, and just like that, he's pulled out his blades.

There is no logic in the place his mind currently exists, no stopper. Nothing in the years of training and discipline or his own personal moral complexities seems to quell it.

He wants Suzuya to suffer, to bleed, and if that means doing something as stupid as trying to cut him into tiny pieces on a public sidewalk, well, so be it?

He lunges, intending to part Suzuya's head from his shoulders with his blades.]

[khajidont]

[When Jaime gets a text from Armin, he's suspicious, but not of Armin. It's a little odd that he would reach out to him for something like this, is all, and he can't help but wonder if there's something Armin wants to tell him or show him while they're out. He's right that it's been a heck of a month, at least, and Jaime's honestly a little burned out -- but not so burned out that he won't come when called.

He pads his way over to the park, dressed in the same work-out gear he wears when he trains with Kaidan. Despite his worries that something's wrong, it's hard for him to look too concerned when he's still busy rubbing sleep out of his eyes and trying to hold back his massive, jaw-creaking yawn. Oh, boy.]

Hey, Armin.

[blondtactician]

Hi Jaime. [Unlike his text, which was a near perfect facsimile of his normal behavior (minus the usual amount of emoticons), Armin definitely doesn't seem like his warm, friendly self. When attempting to be friendly, he sounds hollow, almost sarcastic.] Are you all warmed up?

[khajidont]

What? Oh, yeah, of course. [He's not warmed up at all, which is probably kind of obvious, because he's clearly just rolled out of bed. He's still got bedhead. He made the rudimentary effort of dragging his hands through his hair, but there's this patch at the back of his head he managed to miss entirely, which means it's sticking straight up. Whoops!

Somehow, Armin doesn't sound too concerned about that, though.]

You okay? You sound a little... [He wiggles a hand in mid-air, trying to find a good word for it.] Distracted.

[blondtactician]

I haven't had my morning coffee.

[Armin could be said to have a sort of 'resting worry face', his anxieties and constant interest / concern for the world often showing rather than a neutral expression, even in his calmest moments. Maybe that's why his dead calmness is sort of strange now, seems like so much more than just a quiet lack of any particular emotion.

He's covering something, and not all that well. He finishes his stretches, and apparently unconcerned with Jaime's obvious lack of preparation says,] Let's get going? [He sets off at a steady but unrushed clip, expecting Jaime to follow.]

c.

[herrin]

( while outwardly irene smiled at the child (was that right? she was questioning everyone's age, now) inwardly she sighed. yes, they said she was a hero. no, she didn't do saving cats from vents (or trees, or bushes, or any other cat-like mishap, for that matter). still, she'd been encouraged to do the bare minimum that she was asked, and saving a poor cat in a vent most probably qualified. )

Of course. How long do you think they've been in there? Is it your cat? ( and please, let's all hope the animal is not aggressive. spotting an outer staircase to the roof, she glanced down at clothes and repressed another sigh. another outfit ruined, when she didn't really have that many to spare. still, she had to earn her keep. about to climb up the fire escape, she was overwhelmed by a sense of--

of what? loneliness? no, that was imprecise, this feeling was.. the feeling of being different, of being something set apart. isolated? it certainly wasn't hers, either way. it didn't belong in her head, and the strangeness of it made her shiver. blinking, her mind harkened back to the paper she'd been given, and a word -- empathy.

nonsense. these things didn't exist. )

I'll be up in a moment. Try and see if you can get him out in the meantime.

[blondtactician]

[Some call Armin a boy. He doesn't consider himself to be - sixteen, a soldier in an elite squad, and already having done so much. The idea of adolescence is a purely fabricate done, created in world with longer lives with more stringent laws about labor and military recruitment.

She's new. Armin thinks, and as he steps out of sight he feels his lip curl upward into a snarl of disgust that's quite unlike him. He hasn't seen her around. More and more imPorts every month. Something has to be done. Something bigger than this, much much bigger.

But for now he can take care of her, at least. Armin has a pure and careful voice, not quite having dipped down into a more masculine register.]

No, it's not my cat? I heard it while I was patrolling up here, but this isn't a residential building. It really does sound hurt, poor thing. Kitty kitty! Come here, kitty...

[Armin walks over to the mentioned vent. He listens for the sound of the woman ascending the stairs. She's not moving as if she's very happy to do it.

As she clears the low wall on the top of the building, he pops a chlorine tab into a bottle of rubbing alcohol, screws the cap shut and shakes it, hurling directly at her.

Though he wants to see her shock and struggle, he uses the rappels on his gear to shoot to another roof quickly. Safe vantage point.

It's no god if he breathes the gas itself.

The impact might not be enough to relief the pressure, make the bomb explode. Or it might be.]

[herrin]

( great. not his cat, and it sounds hurt -- whatever that sounds like on a cat. still, her mask of worry doesn't shift one iota; she was considering this her one good deed for the week and the way she was earning her keep and it wasn't much in the long run. she'd done worse than saving some poor trapped animal.

she realized her mistake, however, far too late for it to be of any help -- approximately right when the bottle left his hand and was hurtling at her. she would have needed super human reflexes to avoid being hit, and she didn't have it. it was strange, as though time slowed down and she watched the bottle float through the air towards her, unable to do a thing.

then things sped up again and the bottle hit her square in the arm, the added pressure enough to pop the top off causing some sort of explosion an filling the air around her with gas. irene choked on the first breath she took, doubling over as her eyes and skin began burning. what the hell was that?

stumbling, she tried to move out of the area of the gas, one hand pressed over her mouth as she struggled to take in air. this was bad. she had no weapons, her eyes were burning far too much for her to keep them open and she couldn't see. fumbling for the fire escape's ladder, she struggled down it before collapsing against the railing, coughing hard. )

[blondtactician]

[Too bad for her, really. Armin only caught a glance of her before throwing the bomb, but he liked her clothes. She had a sort of librarian look to her, though maybe more "librarian" than librarian, and before his eyes opened to just how terrible all imPorts were, that might've been enough to talk to her.

While Armin would like to go back and hack her into little pieces, his victim's convenient escape means he'd have to run through a cloud of chlorine gas, and that's a no go. Can't keep terrorizing the locals while his lungs burn up or he can't stop vomiting.

There's the hissing sound of his gear deploying. He hooks onto another building and rappels away. The gas bombs have been a fun experiment, but he's thinking he needs to go bigger, next time.]

D

[hackitude]

[Armin's bad mood hasn't escaped Skye's notice. At first she brushes it off, but it becomes clear after a while that it isn't going away. So she gives it ten minutes after she sees him disappear back into his room with food, and then appears in the doorway to Armin's room, giving a small smile and a wave.]

Hey.

[blondtactician]

Do you want something?

[Skye's gentle smile and greeting is met with quiet, seething hostility.]

[hackitude]

[Skye's eyebrows shoot up so high they're in danger of taking off.]

... Wow. Okay. I just came to see how you were, but clearly that answers that question.

Did something happen?

[blondtactician]

[Armin usually keeps his room tidy. Not quite military sparse, with posters of scenery from all over the world tacked up, his bookshelves crammed full. Today it seems in slightly more disarray, the sandwiches shoved into a backpack, a bedroll nearby.

He has his blades and gear on his desk, cleaning them. That's not terribly abnormal, but, he is slouched over large, deadly blades.

There are tubs stacked under the desk. His small wastebin is full, mostly plastic bottles.

Did something happen?]

Not just one thing. [Armin says after a moment.

Skye is well-known threat to him. He's lived her memories, he knows what she's capable of, and there's a high likelihood she'll make anything he does to her public should she survive it. His tactical mind says it's best not to engage.

But she's really such a typical imPort. HE wants her to die. In fact he's nearly trembling from the effort not to just flat out attack her. Who cares what happens, if it's one less imPort?]

c

[totalpacifist]

Oh, absolutely! Just a second. [X had come down to Heropa to investigate; there had been some strange things happening lately; people acting more violently than usual, and that's just the kind of thing X investigates back home. Old habits die hard, apparently.

But this poor boy- all he wants to do is rescue a cat. It's nice to see people being kind when everything is tense and two steps away from hell.

X has to hoist himself up carefully. Many of the houses around here weren't meant to hold someone of his weight, so he has to make sure not to haul himself up on anything too breakable, but once he's up he approaches the boy as he reaches into his cloak.] Which vent did you hear the noises from?

[blondtactician]

[Armin's already crossed to the other side of the building, where there's a fan vent. Heavy steps - a robot? Is chlorine gas even going to work against him? Only one way to find out.

Armin shoves a chlorine tablet into a bottle of rubbing alcohol, quickly screwing on the top, shaking it and throwing it at the stranger. Enjoy your chlorine gas bomb, complete with a small explosion and very harmful gas!]

[totalpacifist]

[X might not have to breathe, but the explosion and gas throw his optic sensors out of whack and he cries out, dropping the bottle and covering his face. He can vaguely hear the sound of retreating footsteps and he waits for the damage assessment before jumping back down off the roof, hands over his eyes.]

Why did you- [No, no good, vision blurry, but- there. X gives chase.] Get back here!

[blondtactician]

[Armin runs, deploying his gear to rappel over to the next building and avoid the gas. The correct thing to do would be to simply rn and hope the robot didn't get a good look at him. But Armin's not thinking clearly. He has a good chance to destroy an imPort. So once he's a good space ahead, he stops, blades ready, to fight his pursuer.]