maskormenacelogs | When he leaps amidst us, With combustive dance

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† jacob taylor | the protector

When he leaps amidst us, With combustive dance

WHO: Revan and you!
WHERE: Out and about Maurtia Falls, home sweet home
WHEN:Through out the later half of the month
WHAT: Revan Returns! And the Jedi is exploring the old haunts. Maybe fight some crime.
WARNINGS: None yet!

A) In Transit:

It is regularly far too tempting to take Maurtia Falls at face value, to only see as the sum of it's reputation. To slide a gloved finger against the grain and grimace at the self created splotch. But Revan knows, as he looks out over the city from the tram, that film, that edge wasn't an imperfection. Rather it is a sign. A result of the residence's resiliency to chaos and misfortune. That splotch wasn't grime, it was ashes. The ashes of battles fought, lives lost, and homes burnt. Ash that fell heavy.

The natives (and imports) of Maurtia Falls might be crass, might be hard, untamed. Some may even be criminals. But they were strong. Dedicated. The troubles around them, even those which they cause for themselves, might leave them scarred and jagged. But they survived. They weathered terrorism, monsters, corruption, apathy from the government, and occupation from a hostile force. And they still stood. And often enough, fought back.

Perhaps that is why he kept coming back. Respect for those he often serves, and serves beside. That charming will. The gloss beneath the ash.

A pneumatic hiss blooms into a chorus of harsh laughter, drawing Revan's hooded gaze toward the head of his car. It wasn't the jarring, mismatched cloths sporting innumerable spikes and chains, nor the ill mannered way the gang of miscreants hoot and crow as they stalk their way into Revan's car that held his wary gaze. It was the predatory look in their eyes as they sized up the other few passengers that shared the car with him. Hungry eyes.

What were they after, he wonders? An easy score? Or just looking to cause a little pain?

Strong as they might be here in Maurtia Falls, sometimes they needed a little help here and there... Maybe that's really why he keeps coming back. Here, he felt needed.

He doesn't make any overt move, save a slow reaching into one of the loose sleeves of his tunic as he watches them swagger closer. Perhaps his own gaze a little too hard. Just what was he willing to draw from his sleeve? Perhaps it's not the rowdy bunch that worries you, but the sense of danger you feel from the man next to you? Or maybe he's got the right idea.

B) Helix Station

Honestly Revan is surprised just to see the fortified structure still stands. About a year after the battle against the Soviet Occupation and nobody has succeeded in burning the place down. Or worse, decommissioning it. Though to his sharp eye, it was clear many of his security measures had been stripped down. A shame really, but it was understandable. It was dangerous tech after all, and what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands?

But if anything gladdened his heart, it was the news that RISE still maintained it as their headquarters. Of all people he could trust to know a tactical advantage when they saw it, it was Olivier.

Revan can be found all about the facility, walking it's perimeter, examining the modifications made to the facility. Or you might find him by the statue honoring those who fought against the Soviet Occupation, contemplatively stroking his chin. Or if you were visiting, or better yet, stationed here, he might seem like he's looking for something, see you and approach with a smile and a cordial, "A pleasure to see you."Perhaps with an "-again." attached at the end.

C) Wild Card - Out and about town

After his curiosity is sated, and his business concluded, Revan will spend the rest of the day wandering about town. Mostly appraising the repairs and changes made to the city in his absence. Or perhaps he checking to see what remains the same. He may walk by your business, meet you in your favorite cafe, or even bump into you in a seedy bar as he looks for information about the more... discrete goings on in town. And it wouldn't be too surprising for him to stumble across your crime-fighting shenanigans, if that's more your cut.

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"Revan!" Jacob's face breaks into a smile when he sees his old ally standing by the statue in front of the base. He heads right over to him, hand outstretched for a particularly strong greeting handshake.

"Son of a bitch. I didn't think I'd see you again. When did you get back?"

Revan's eyes go wide as soon as he hears the familiar voice.

"Jacob Taylor." he turns with a smile, and eagerly accepts the handshake, wondering why he felt a slight quiver in his precognitive danger sense, yet ignoring it all the same.

"Uufh." Oh. The sheer power behind the handshake is enough to momentarily stagger even him, but he grips it back and maintains it. In terms of muscle mass Jacob outranked the lithe jedi handily. To his credit he only lets Jacob tip him a few degrees to the side before he puts up enough resistance to at least hold Jacob's progress...

"It's... good to see you again, my friend." he says through the effort. Seriously, Jacob, you could shame a Mandolorian with that grip. "Just recently. I trust all is well?"

Jacob holds the grip just a few moments longer before relenting and letting Revan's hand go, his enthusiasm sufficiently expressed. "I'm good," he says, shaking his hand out at his side a bit. "You missed some bullshit, but it's all under control right now. Helix has gone through some changes, as you can see..."

He tilts his head toward the base they're standing in front of, with its conspicuous lack of turret emplacements in the walls and the new memorial statue in front of it.

Oh thank goodness. As a Jedi he was trained to not visibly display his feelings when he wanted to, though he did discretely flex his fingers inside his sleeve.

"So I've noticed." nodding, he lets his gaze follow Jacob's gesture. "A shame. But their emplacement was for a purpose and they served it." He turns back to face Jacob with a tip of his head to the side, a half shrug. "Lets hope such a need does not arise again."

That gets a shrug from Jacob, along with a cynical grimace. "Yeah. Let's hope. But honestly, I'll be surprised if we don't need that kind of firepower again. The government made a mistake disarming this place."

A soldier's perspective, as always. Jacob doesn't care much for the politics surrounding Helix's status as a controversial armed imPort fortress in the middle of a city. He just wants to have a strong base to fight from the next time conflict breaks out.

"Anyway." He waves a hand. "How were things back home for you? You look pretty much the same as I remember."

If it's one thing he'll never get tired of, it's Jacob's refreshingly direct practicality. Few other people were willing to take the risks today needed to ensure a safer tomorrow. It was an altogether military outlook. And it earns him a smile from Revan, if nothing else. It may not seem like it because of his soft, somewhat genteel nature, but Revan had spent nearly his entire adult life serving (or leading) one militant group or another.

"I'm afraid the same as before." His expression sobering. "I'm not sure if I mentioned it or not, but I was ported into this world on the cusp of a major battle in my universe."

Jacob's own expression becomes sombre in turn. "I know how that feels," he offers, crossing his arms across his chest. "The Porter took me here not long before the start of a war. The war."

He half-sighs, softly out through his nose. "The thing is, most of the other people from my Galaxy have been from later- after the invasion hits. It isn't great, getting a secondhand preview of what you're going to be living through."

At least there's hope, judging by what he's heard from Kaidan and others. The Reaper invasion can be beaten... but the cost to the Galaxy in lives lost and homes destroyed is going to be astronomical.

"That must be... infuriating." Revan shakes his head with a sympathetic frown. "Hearing what is coming and knowing you can do nothing about it while here."

He returns to looking up at the armed statue, smoothing his tunic before crossing his arms.

"You'll have to tell me about this invasion someday. It may not serve a purpose but someday we could discuss your enemy. Pose ways to destroy them." He offers Jacob a wink. "Could prove cathartic, if nothing else."

Jacob smiles a bit, and crosses his own arms in response. "Sure, I'm down for that," he says. "Let's get a drink sometime now that you're back. Compare notes on what we're up against back home. I'm sure we've both got lots of war stories."

And Jacob's sure that if anyone has ideas on how to even the odds against an enemy as devastating as the Reapers, it would be Revan.

"I would like that. Very much." He takes in a lets out a breath in one smooth rush, and he lets it rest in an almost strained silence for a few moments.

"...I think I'm dead." he doesn't look at Jacob, half because he didn't want him to be concerned about his reaction, but also it was taking much of his concentration to keep the pain within him reasonably contained. "In my home universe. My last memories are of laying at the feet of my enemies. Broken."

There's a long pause before Jacob responds. He doesn't know the words to be eloquent and supportive right now, so as always he settles for direct and heartfelt instead.

"Shit," he says. "That's... I'm sorry, Revan. That drink's going to be on me."

A minor gesture, but it's about all he has to offer against the enormity of what he's heard. The thought that Revan will return to certain death if he's ever Ported out is heavy as it settles into his mind.

And that's exactly what Revan respects the most about Jacob: his depthless purity. Small as it may seem, the transparency of his sympathy is a rare treasure. Revan could count on one hand the number of people he felt comfortable dropping his guard around.

He didn't have to question Jacob's agenda, if he was being sincere, or if he wanted something from him.

While it doesn't quite reach his eyes, Revan returns the favor with an appreciative smile and nod in his direction.

"I'll take it. But don't worry too much, when I first arrived it was from that same moment. Just a soldier doing his duty. I've had time to mourn my failures and try to make the best of my time here. It was just... a traumatic reminder."

He shakes his head in a pair of determined motions. "I have a lot more sympathy for imports, if this sort of thing happens often."

"Oh." Now Jacob feels bad for knowing Revan this long without realizing he's doomed in his own world. Then again, Revan's a fairly private person, and one's own death is nothing if not a personal matter.

"Yeah... it goes around," he says, rubbing the back of his head. "I think Will Graham actually set up some kind of club for it last year. For people who've died."

"Ah, very good." There's a slight... clamminess to his tone. A polite acknowledgement, he seems grateful such a group exists. But it's pretty obvious it isn't something for which Revan would ever sign on himself.

Jacob may have slipped into the lee of his eternal distrust, but he wasn't about to start handing out memberships. And that was pretty compromising knowledge.

"But what of life here? Other than this peculiar statue, what else has changed in my abscence?" If he was gone for as long as it seemed, any number of things could be different now. An enemy occupation in the heartland of their host state had only taken a couple months to come and go completely. Nations could have fallen and risen by now and he wouldn't be surprised.

Jacob touches his chin for a moment, thinking. It's a big question. Revan may have only been Ported out last summer, but that is an eternity in imPort time.

"Hard to know where to start," he admits. "I guess the biggest change is that there are natives with superpowers now- a couple hundred in each Porter city. Tony Stark got hijacked by his evil twin or something and decided he was going to 'improve' humanity with nanites. Some people chose to keep the upgrade after he was taken down. Most of them use it for good- most of them."

The ones that don't, though, are a good deal more dangerous than the standard criminals. Jacob hopes they never become organized.

For a few moments Revan can do little more than blink in response.

Finally: "Oh."

Well... that was quite the development.

"I was under the impression that the process that gives imports their powers couldn't be replicated? What changed?"

Jacob shrugs. It's all he can do.

"I can't explain the tech, but from what I know? Stark didn't replicate it. He came up with something of his own called 'Extremist.' It rewrites people's DNA at the most basic level... Makes them better."

Better by the standards of a megalomaniac carrying out large-scale human experiments without consent or oversight, that is.

"So now we've got people who can fly and who can breathe fire, along with a few other tricks up their sleeves. It's a whole new ball game," he says. For better, or for worse. Jacob doesn't doubt the courage and good intentions of some of the new superheroes, and he thinks they could be great allies with proper training and guidance.

"So there is another process of which people can gain powers?" This complicated life here dramatically...

Revan sags a bit, sitting down at the base of the statue as he mulls this over.

Natives have never proved a real threat before. Not really. Jedi were trained from infancy to be the anathema of practical combat methods. Revan alone could handle at least a dozen moderately armed gunmen in an open field. And depending on the level of preparation or the addition of favorable terrain that number could climb exponentially. And he knew that he was far from a special case when it came to imports as a whole.

"Imports have always been the biggest threats to public security, because each ImPort requires a tailored strategy to apprehend or defeat." He was mostly just musing aloud, but wanting to include Jacob in his line of thinking. "The natives of this world might have logistics on their side, but the danger they posed was manageable. Now... Is this 'Extremist' still around? Or has it been shut down?"

Revan was sure he already knew the answer. How could it not? With the amount of effort the Government put into keeping their thumb on imports, there was no chance they would let the number of super powered native increase indefinitely. Not to mention the conscientious imports.

Jacob shakes his head. "It's not going around giving people powers anymore. Maybe Stark still has a sample, or at least the formula. But for now, I think it's under control."

'Under control' being a relative term. There had been no large-scale disasters caused by the new metas yet- in that respect, at least, they were considerably more responsible and less reckless than their imPort forerunners. Which might have been why the government hasn't acted to Register or restrict them in the same ways as imPorts...

"There's more besides that," Jacob continues. "RISE got investigated. That's how Helix ended up disarmed. And we got attacked again in January- all four cities were blacked out for a week. It looks like the Russians were involved, along with something called the 'OTO.'"

Edited 2017-03-23 12:45 (UTC)

In his universe, there were always tales of people gaining super-human abilities, even outside the Force, through science. But usually that involved cybernetics or dangerous drugs. And those effects were little more than physical enhancements.

They didn't give people super powers, relative to this world's imports.

Anyone or any process that could do so was something Revan might need to look in on...

"Indeed? I'm not surprised Helix Station was disarmed, despite my personal feelings. Or that an autonomous ImPort combat agency would be investigated from time to time. But you seem to be implying there was more to it than that?"

He'll get to the Russian attack in a bit --one headache at at time please.

"Yeah... I can't deny some questions had to be asked."

Jacob rubs the back of his head for a moment, feeling a sudden twinge of awkward tension. His soldier's instinct to show loyalty to his unit in tension with his stronger instinct toward honesty.

"There was a scandal. We hired a 'reformed'-" finger quotes. "killer vigilante as a field agent. Big surprise, he ends up trying to burn someone to death. After that, a lot of other complaints came forward about how RISE had been handling itself. Ambassador Baelish led the charge to do something about it- he's your replacement for Maurtia Falls. Have you met him yet?"

Knowing Revan, Jacob guesses he's alread fully familiarized himself with Petyr Baelish and taken the other politician's measure.

That was disappointing. There was nothing worse than someone ruining a good thing by taking it too far.

"Not personally. He sent me a letter when I first arrived soliciting for a donation." he manages to keep judgement out of his tone, for the most part. It wasn't how he'd go about it, but not everybody had his unique talents or desire to be a lone wolf. Besides the cause seemed just enough. But his gut told him to be wary of the new Ambassador. And Jacob would be correct, Revan had done his research and scruitinized the actions of him since he took office. There was a whole lot of nice sounding platitudes. "Quite the politician."

"But RISE has been nothing but exemplary in their service to others, at least while I've been here. If one person acted outside the law they should solely be held responsible for their actions."

"You got a letter too?" Jacob raises an eyebrow. "Same here. I think he sent them to just about everyone he knew how to contact. I told him I'd help out with construction. Maurtia Falls could use more libraries." He considers telling Revan that according to the media, Baelish's policies had made the Falls a safer and more prosperous place since his election, but decides against it. That isn't the topic right now.

"Anyway, it went further than that one person. There were issues with how we treated prisoners, with the undead... Even me getting hired, after everything that happened with Archangel." Jacob shrugs. Leave it to Dorian Gray to keep poking at that particular wound. "People didn't trust us. The government's ruling could have been a lot harsher, honestly."

Edited 2017-03-26 16:51 (UTC)

"As did I. Or more accurately, if the Government would be willing to give me my droids back, then they could assist." To be fair, he hasn't actually made the request yet. Because he technically no longer owned the property necessary to house them all. His workshop had been a part of Helix Station, which Olivier now held the deed. And along with the workshop went his business. And without a business he had no liquidatable resources to get property, as his "wealth" such as it was, was almost entirely invested in the Station.

A vicious circle to say the least. Though he wasn't particularly upset by any of this, it did create logistical problems. He couldn't very well parade around the porter towns with a hodge-podge group of droids.

"I'm afraid I agree only to an extent. Libraries, absolutely. Libraries dedicated to the threat that imports pose... well now I'm not so sure."

He shakes his head, not convinced. "You were reformed, acting with consent of the government, different levels of threats required equitable levels of response, and one person acting outside the clearly established guidelines of a government function makes them responsible, not the function. If this 'reformed' vigilante should legally have their rights to work in law enforcement revoked, and it was a punishable act to hire them in the first place, it would seem prudent to make that a rule first, then punish someone for breaking it afterwards."

There was a heat to his words. Not anger per se just... disapproval. It was possible his ignorance of the matter, as well as his outside perspective was not giving him the full picture. But through everything he heard all he could ask himself over and over again was 'To what end?' And you'd be hard pressed to justify anything that resulted in less safety for imports and natives.

"Punishment, light as it may be, serves no purpose if the method to correct the mistake is not made clear."

Jacob listens to the passion in Revan's words with his head slightly tilted. He hadn't defended RISE that strongly during the inquiry, largely because he'd recognized the crisis in confidence the team had created with its missteps. He makes a note to show Revan the official report of the inquiry later, so that he can fully judge for himself.

"They didn't punish me for anything," he says. "It was just one of the things that came up from the witnesses." He pauses a moment, looking over Revan's face.

"I never knew you supported RISE that strongly," he remarks.

"It... isn't just about RISE." though he does have a great deal of respect for it, what it is trying to accomplish.

"The import way of life is fluid. It may seem calm and peaceful at times, but a single action can cause massive ripples. Other people choose what we need and what we deserve based on an ephemeral approval level. And any impact on the status quo is usually explosive, one way or the other.

Build a statue," he gestures up at the one shadowing them, "become divine. Someone you're acquainted to breaks the law? You and your associates are made an example of in the political arena."

"I know what you mean," Jacob says, following Revan's gesture with his eyes, regarding the statue as though with a fresh perspective. "We don't have a lot of stability to hold on to."

He looks sidelong at Revan, considering. "Sounds like you're feeling frustrated."

"Mostly that we don't seem to have made any process to fix the issue. I designed the Helix Station to be a statement of our will. Our fortitude. Our status as a community. Something that would inspire those that cared for us, and draw the ire of those that would stand against us, to it specifically."

Revan stands, striding forward so that he was shoulder to shoulder with Jacob, and places one hand on that shoulder. Pointedly.

"I'm not pleased with whom seems to be the most upset by this station."

Jacob looks to Revan a moment, then reciprocates the gesture, putting a hand on his shoulder while gesturing towards Helix with his free hand.

"No matter what they say, building this place has saved lives. More than once. They can't take that away from you. You and me- we know the truth."

Magicman doesn't usually take public transport, but sometimes he feels the need to for - whatever reason. The experience, mostly. Some vague impulse that he doesn't mind indulging.

He sighs a little when the car gets loud - he's not really bothered by their jeering, but he'd rather have quiet - but he doesn't move, otherwise. At first.

In fact, he just puts one leg over the other, resting his elbow on that raised knee and his chin on his now-open palm. It's a gesture that might be designed to provoke in how calm it is, an announcement of i don't care.

His eyes flick over to Revan, and then back to the group of people hollering. Whatever Revan is about to do, he certainly doesn't seem to be reacting to it, but that's deliberate, too.

It was probably Magicman's apathy that decided who among the two of them the group zoned in on first. The edge being broadcast by Revan was almost palpable.

A warning.

Or as they saw it, a challenge.

He closed his eyes for a moment as they crowd around him uncomfortably, sinister smirks and sneers abound. However when he opens them again he's all smiles.

"I wasn't aware this ride came with a show." When they group exchanges confused looks Revan clarifies. "What? You aren't a traveling circus?"

Magicman just watches with vague interest.

"I thought they were a flash mob, myself," he says, lazily. "They're doing a very good job of being entertaining, whatever they are."

The group turns their attention from Revan to Magicman, discussing among themselves what to do (the usual posturing doesn't seem to be working). The few other people in the tram car shift uncomfortably, not sure what's going to happen but knowing there's two people deliberately provoking a lot of other people who look rather nasty.

"Man, you wanna pick a fight with us? We outnumber you!" One of them finally speaks up, getting into Revan's face a bit. The others sort of...shuffle, trying to look intimidating.

Closing his eyes to avoid any spittle flecks in them from their proximity, Revan takes the vocal abuse stoically.

"You betray your ignorance in believing numbers alone hold the key to victory." He slowly opens his eyes now, matching the pompous look he's receiving with an even look of his own. "Perhaps you should reflect upon my words before I give you a practical demonstration."

The tension in the air is palpable; the few other passengers are inching nervously away or sitting stoically in the hopes they won't be bothered.

Unfortunately, this calm seems to just provoke the speaker even more, and he goes as far as to shove Revan and growl, trying to be physically intimidating (or maybe he just can't think of anything to say). To be fair, he has the height and weight to back up a physical threat...but it's Revan he's shoving, so it's bound to go badly for him.

Magicman tenses, almost invisibly. Things are going to swing one way or another very shortly.

The shove rocks Revan roughly. With such a difference in body mass it wasn't like he was going to be unaffected, and the sound of flesh smacking against metal with little more than sheet of fabric between them rang out in the car.

But he takes it stoically, sighing through the groan. But the look Revan levels upon the thug is cutting enough to repay any injury.

"I see we've elected the path of lunacy..." the voice that comes out of Revan is deep. Not lower, it seems to come from a place that was simultaneously within his chest and the heads of everyone around. "Your arrogance is on the level of masochism."

It was enough to make some of the miscreants back off out of sheers shock. But the leader was made of different stuff. When the fear kicks in instead of falling back he lashes out with a sudden, instinct driven right hook. But instead of crushing Revan's face, the fist strikes the back of the seat he was occupying a blink earlier.

To Magicman, probably the only one who could easily track his motions, Revan explodes in a sideways roll, leaping out of his seat and landing with inhuman grace in the middle of the walkway. There he slowly draws up to his full height and turns on the group with a deliberate, almost foreboding, slowness.

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When he leaps amidst us, With combustive dance

B

I'VE HAD GUILES THEME STUCK IN MY HEAD ALL DAY THANKS TO THIS

I am not sorry

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adjective: depthless 1.unfathomably deep. 2 Shallow or superficial HOW IS THIS LANGUAGE

IDEK I just speak the language I didn't make it up

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ugh auto-correct typo'd 'Extremis' as 'Extremist'

I thought you meant me for a second. I was like 'BUT THAT'S WHAT YOU- oh'

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This turned into a monologue =_=;

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A

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