June Catch-All + Open To All prompts

[pyrogue]

WHO: Mick Rory & YOU
WHERE: All over the place
WHEN: Throughout June
WHAT: various, get your reformed, struggling fire-themed Flash Rogue here
WARNINGS: drinking, discussion of pyromania, shirtlessness



(OPEN) Any Porter City:
[ He knows he's lying to himself when he insists he's just exploring. That would make sense. He is, after all, in a completely new universe where the cars could hover, the Cold War had turned hot, and the only people with powers came from other worlds. It's natural to explore the cities they were assigned to - Heropa, De Chima, Maurtia Falls, Nonah, see what's up.

Or what's up in flames.

Because if he wasn't half-hoping to find a fire somewhere, he wouldn't be in full costume -- white onesie and gun and all. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be so disappointed by not finding any. Still, he tries to keep himself busy.

You might bump into him leaving a local Fire Station, or Shopping in the Candle Section of a department store, still in costume (it's for Yoga atmosphere! Promise!), or maybe you'll find him at a bar at day's end, his cowl and goggles pulled down, asking for lemonade and a shot of tequila. ]

(OPEN) Heropa, early June, The Yoga Prompt

[ Mick's assigned job was Hot Yoga Instructor for a workout show called BODY HEAT!, because of course it was, and for the first few days he was under rigorous training, since he'd never done yoga at all before.

But the gears of workout programmes work fast, and soon his bosses were intent on doing some Promotion, use their new imPort to get the word out for his upcoming appearances in the show. The solution, of course, was a public display for an hour a day for a week at a mall in heropa.

It isn't hot yoga precisely, they can't heat up the entire mall just for that, but they put candles around (Mick's finding them very distracting) and a stage and putting on a performance. His uniform is a pair of black yoga pants with red stripes up the side. There is no shirt. Mick is missing his turtlenecks very dearly right now.

Afterward, Mick gets up to the mic, gives a little spiel, and asks - ] Any questions from the audience?

[ You can always catch him afterward for a quick word, of course. ]

( For individual starters, will make one in the comments )

Comments

For Chilton

[pyrogue]

[ Mick's not sure what to think about Dr. Chilton, to be honest. He was warned off getting this sort of help from fellow imPorts, but he's willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. He'll see, at least.

Plus... Mick knows he's sick. He is. He needs all the help he can get. He'll sign up for every non-Scarecrow professional help he can get until he can make sure he can keep himself under control.

He's punctual, at least. Thursday, June 9th, 12:00, he arrives for his appointment with Dr. Chilton. Actually, he arrives ten minutes early.

He also has the good sense not to come in costume, though the black turtleneck sweater might seem a little hot for early June in Florida. He takes an unlit match-stick out of the corner of his mouth and pockets it quickly before entering the office, but his fingers itch to take it back. Normal people who keep small wooden things in their mouths use toothpicks. He knows that. He does.


He's a bit twitchy today. ]

[slightlyoffchilt]

You're right on time.

[An observation worth denoting, especially verbally; not all patients excelled at keeping schedule. It indicated that Mr. Rory did not suffer from poor executive function, at least. That alone could set the tonal affair in proper therapeutic motion.

Chilton's office favored a black, gold, and light blue color scheme. Antiqued maps lined the walls in gilded frames, and a Roman poet stood in bust on top a five foot column in the corner. His heavy desk, with its gold pens scattered over it, sat before an enormous bookshelf filled with psychiatric texts. In the middle of that bookshelf sat a conspicuous decanter nearly emptied of its brown liquor.]

Mick, hello.

[Chilton stood as his patient entered the office. There were two seating options available, both angled towards Chilton's desk: a hard, wooden, and rather uncomfortable chair and a soft, light blue sedan. Chilton gestured to the area.]

Please, take a seat.

[pyrogue]

Hello, Dr. Chilton.

[ He takes a moment to figure out where he should sit, before sitting down on the sedan. No need to make this more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

He glances around the room, feeling it was a little bit ostentatious to his more blue-collar sensibilities. He also wonders, in that part of his brain that used to knock over jewelry stores, if it was really such a good idea to have patients in a place where half the stuff looked worth nicking. He's not personally tempted, however. That part of the job was never the main draw for falling off the wagon. ]

Nice office. Looks like you've been doing really well for yourself here.

[slightlyoffchilt]

It certainly suits my tastes, Mick.

[No more Mr. Rory. Now was the time to establish a personal touch, especially since Mick had chosen the sedan. Chilton gave every one of his patients this initial test to best gauge how he ought to approach the subject. While everyone was unique in their own psychological kingdom, Chilton liked to label with two specific crowns.

He smiled at Mick, his shoulders easing back to communicate openness. Therapy, after all, was a two-way street.]

Why don't we begin with how you've been adjusting? Needless to say, you seem adept. Socially.

[pyrogue]

Being social was never my problem. [ Mick shrugs, hands on his knees. He seems to be relaxing more, though he's tapping a finger quietly. ]

Not difficult when they give you a fancy phone and people to talk to on it. Adjusting would probably be harder if we weren't all in this together.

[ There isn't a trace of irony in that statement; he doesn't even know what he'd do if he were alone. But he's not, so he'll take the support where he can. ]

For Harley

[pyrogue]

[ (following up this.)

Mick shows up at the bar around eight-ish, in his civvies, as promised. Dark slacks, black turtleneck sweater, alright-jacket, hat. It's passable, especially compared to Some Other Rogue they both know. The leather gloves might be a bit odd, but he likes being warm.

He's questioning his judgement a little, but she seems nice enough for a Gothamite. He walks in, keeping an eye out for her. ]

[itistolaugh]

[ She's placed herself at the bar, somewhere highly visible so he couldn't miss her. Not that anyone could miss a leggy blonde in cutoff shorts and a cutoff top. It is entirely possible she doesn't own a single intact article of clothing, but she's of the opinion that showing off her abs is a public service.

When he walks in, she has to bite the corner of her mouth to keep from laughing. ]

You look like you came straight from a police lineup.

[pyrogue]

[ Oh he notices her alright. He has eyes.

He smiles wryly at her as he takes the stool next to her. ]

Yeah, I met some other guys there and I think one might be Keyser Söze. [ He clears his throat. ] You look... good.

[ Nailed it. ]

[itistolaugh]

[ She just smiles and nods, like "yes of course I do," and waves down the bartender. She orders a scofflaw and somehow manages to do it with a straight face. ]

They're going for that old timey thing, so prohibition cocktails are their big thing.

Soooo, how are you settling in?

[catchacold]

[With the choice between being disturbed and amused, he falls somewhere in between. Definitely not able to tear his gaze away from Mick. Not Mick, but still Mick. Shirtless, doing yoga.

No, he hasn't decided what to think. He texts Piper almost just to have something to focus on, because otherwise he might have to burst out laughing. Not that he even looks that ridiculous, which just makes it all the weirder.

Any questions?]

Why so hot?

[pyrogue]

[ Mick does a double-take before he sees that it's Strangely-Good-Looking Leonard Snart.

God, Meshta, whoever was in charge -- what did he do to deserve this? The look gives Len is pure "what the hell are you doing here", but he tries to keep somewhat professional. And take the question literally on purpose. ]

The heat and the yoga help cleanse the body, increase flexibility, and become more in-tune with yourself.

[catchacold]

[What do you think he's doing here? Sharing with friends, of course.]

Good. I've always felt I should be more flexible.

[He graciously says nothing else and lets the very interested woman in the front row ask instead. Mostly he's surprised she doesn't just outright ask for Mick's number. He has time, he can talk to him after the Q&A session.]

[pyrogue]

Right. [ Mick gladly moves onto the next question, and after another short demonstration, he comes off stage to talk. Which is probably the decent, polite thing to do.

He's put a towel around his shoulders, to be a little less shirtless. Sort of. ]

You just happen to be in the neighbourhood?

[ Likelihood he thinks that's the case: maybe 20%, his life is weird. ]

YOGA PARTY

[socialactivillain]

[ Len had texted Piper the address to the mall where Mick was giving his demonstration, and Piper doesn't even try that hard to talk himself out of going. He's not sure what exactly he was expecting, but he makes his way into the crowd, and as soon as he spots Mick, shirtless and in some ridiculous pose, he busts out laughing despite himself. ]

[pyrogue]

[ And now Piper's here too. Just what he needed.

He's a less embarrassed with Piper than he is with Len, though. Mostly because, you know, Piper isn't a Leonard Snart who is simultaneously Captain Cold but also a nigh-stranger. He's also pretty sure Piper won't tease him (as much).

But that doesn't mean he isn't questioning his life choices right now. Pausing between poses, he shoots Piper a "where did you come from, why are you here?" look. ]

[socialactivillain]

[ Piper gestures over towards where Len is standing on the other side of the crowd while he has Mick's eye, still laughing. ]

[pyrogue]

[ Mick looks to the heavens and continues his demonstration, and afterward -- and having a bit of a talk with Cold -- he comes over to Piper, wearing a somewhat humble smile.

He's stopped by a couple of soccer moms on his way to say hi, and he manages to get himself away fairly gracefully. ]

It wasn't that funny.

[burnseternal]

[Saint Walker had come to the department store for a few odd items, but finds himself diverted to the candle aisle. He makes his own, and can't help but be curious about what store-bought candles smell like. He leans forward, taking a particularly strongly scented one, brings it up to his face, and breathes in...

...and almost immediately recoils in a way very, very few people see him do, waving one hand in front of his face and shoving it hastily back onto the shelf.]

Oh, my. No. No, I don't think so.

[Eyes still squinting against the chemical stench, he turns his head, only to see someone in a very bright costume.]

I mean no offense by that if it is to your tastes, of course.

[pyrogue]

[ Oh hey -- it's that alien. Mick recognizes him right away, not least because it's an alien in a department store, which isn't really something you see every day even in his line of work. ]

Prefer the plain ones myself. There's some over here, if you want -- [ He points out on the shelf where there are some fancy, but unscented, candles. ]

It's Saint Walker, right?

[burnseternal]

[He shakes his head.] Not to worry; I can make my own. I was simply looking for some, ah... inspiration.

[And he hasn't found any of it yet, to be sure. Still, he looks at Mick with a smile as he says his name, trying to remember where he knows him from. His garb is odd, and his face, covered, but that voice is familiar, and it soon comes to him.]

Indeed it is! And you are Mick Rory, if I am not mistaken. It is good to meet you in person! Have you been well?

[pyrogue]

[ He shrugs. He can't help but smile, though. Walker's contagious. ] Surviving.

You?

[tactile_telekinesis]

[He'd arranged to meet with Mick for a catch-up session. Sometimes it hit him that he either hung with adults, or people 'his age', but this was different, this wasn't a first meet-up deal. He'd worked with him back home and bonus points went to Mick for not being years into his future.

Kon's in casual clothes and honestly, he has no idea what to expect when Mick shows up. He's not even sure he'll recognise him out of costume.]

[pyrogue]

[ Mick wasn't really one to hang around with teenagers either, but he was looking forward to catching up with Kon. Kid always did have a good head on his shoulders.

Mick's wearing a cream turtleneck sweater (in June) with otherwise normal civilian clothing, a hat on his bald head. Luckily, Kon never really did wear a mask so even in normal clothes Mick recognizes him first. ]

Kon, it's good to see you!

[tactile_telekinesis]

[If this had been a game of 'Spot Mick in the Crowd', he would have lost big time. It was also so strange to meet people he worked with out of costume, but that was just because there wasn't much down time to be able to just, hang out, go for food or a walk or whatever.

Kon is questioning Mick's choice in clothes though.]

Hey, s'good to see you too! You settlin' in okay? No one's given you any hassle?

[He knew Mick as one of the good guys, someone he could trust and when it came to his life, he felt comfortable that he would have his back. He knew that there were a lot of Flash people around and he didn't want them to be giving Mick a hard time if it wasn't deserved. It wasn't because he didn't think he couldn't handle himself, he just didn't one of the good guys who was trying to feel like there wasn't a point.]

[pyrogue]

[ This is a bit strange for Mick too. Honestly, even back home he tended to wear his suit during off-hours too. But he quickly realized that being so openly imPort would get him strange attention, so he quickly got some civvies. ]

Honestly, people've been better here than they were at home. [ Except that one Bart Allen person, but he doesn't really know what the deal is there. He doesn't want to burden a teenager with his problems either.

He gives a wry smile. ] Almost makes me miss Guardian. You?