metalogs | OPEN | Disasters Mean Rethinking Decisions

Entry tags:

OPEN | Disasters Mean Rethinking Decisions

Who: Mark Bryant

atypical_echo, Tommy Shepherd

slowmotionbuscrash, Open
What: A Bank Robbery Gone Bad, Photography Outside of Guild Headquarters, Awkwardness of confused coffee orders
When: Robbery: 10/14, Photography: 10/15, Coffee: Mid October
Where: First Bank of Central City, Outside Alliance Headquarters, Moondoe Coffee Shop
Content Warnings: Bank robbery might involve violence toward civilians, and will involve explosions.

I. Robberies Make For Bad Days | First Bank of Central City | Closed to Tommy Shepherd

From now on he was going to live his life only through drive through and online banking. With those sorts of things you didn't end up like Mark did, sitting curled up on the floor of the bank with a cluster of other civilians, shaking. The others shook from fear, whimpered whenever the masked robbers looked at them and gestured with either guns or what looked like energy pistols, and didn't talk about their hope that some hero would come and save them.

Mark? Mark sat there quaking not because he cared that he was being menaced with a gun, or that there was a robbery going on, or even that a bad twitch would get him shot. No, he was shaking because these robbers were Metas, and Mark was accutely aware of that in a way no other civilian there was. Sure, they hadn't made use of their powers yet, but Mark could feel them, pressing in on his mind. One was clearly a telepath of some sort, and that Mark knew how to keep control of, how to keep his mind to himself, how to hide from other telepaths. But there was also someone who, best Mark could tell, cause metal to melt, and another one whose power Mark couldn't pin down but made his skin itch.

It was too much. It was a hard enough to keep control of his powers around some Metas, but it was worse when there were more than a few around. With no familiar powers to ground them in it was enough to leave him off balance, and with the fear... Mark was growing terrified that people were going to get hurt if this didn't end soon, and it wouldn't be by the thieves.

"Someone help," he whispered under his breath. That was their only hope, and for reasons no one else knew.

II. Is Heroics Really A Shelter? | Outside of Alliance Headquarters | Open

What do you do with an unsigned Meta? It was a question running through Mark's head, to the tune of some old shanty about drunken sailors. The song had been running circles around his head for days now, and the only way Mark knew to work through shit like this was distraction. So he did his best for distraction. Today his distractions were coming in the form of photography. So Mark stood across the street from the Alliance Headquarters and turned his camera upon the structure, his lens always focused up at large structure, never dipping down toward the doors without Mark first turning it away.

It was important not to piss off people with supernatural powers by making them think that you are taking pictures of them. Which Mark totally wasn't going to do. He doesn't need his ass kicked and himself accidentally stealing someone's powers in the process.

Still, he has to sigh before taking another picture of the building, trying to capture the way shadows fell across it at this late time of day, as if to make a picture to call into mind the idea that the Alliance was come upon dark times.

"This was never what comics prepared me to think superheroes would be like," he sighed as he snapped another shot. "Feel more like sports and movie stars than heroes."

Which was probably a rude thing to say because someone overhearing it could assume weird things. Like that Mark himself is a Meta. Which wasn't wrong at all.

III. Coffee Mix-Up Meeting | Moondoe Coffee Shop | Open

Coffee, the magical brew by which many an artist runs. Or so Mark always thought. He stood near the wall of his local Moondoe Coffee, waiting for his name to be called. Or, well, the poor approximation of his name that places like this seemed to manage.

"Brian!" a voice called, and Mark looked around. No one was making clear motion for the drink, so he walked toward it. Okay, one more way to check. He lifts the cup and, instead of sipping, checks the writing on the side indicating what the drink should be. And there was the familiar shorthand for a dark chocolate machiatto.

Alright, resolved that this was most definitely his drink, Mark lifted it to sip. And immediately cringed when it hit his tongue.

"The fuck?" he sputtered as he winced at the taste. "Is that... apple? Holy shit, what?"

"Maybe it's not your drink," the barista behind the counter said with that look that said 'you picked up someone else's order'.

"It's literally labeled with my name and marked as a dark chocolate machiatto. Soooooo, um, I'm sorry but I think the order might be wrong."

Though he was definitely wincing at the attention this was drawing him. Maybe he should just take this and go? Oh man, would that be more or less embarrassing? He wasn't sure.

[OOC: Mark Bryant's main Meta ability is copying the powers of those near him. This is entirely opt-in, and you can go to opt in over here if you'd like to play with Mark echoing powers.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Listen it's not his fault that he doesn't know that is the dude's name.

"Oh," he says, because yeah, corrected, then he looks horrified.

"What? No! Oh god I might be scraping by as a freelancer, but I'd never stoop to tabloid work. Ew, I need a shower."

The very suggestion has him cringing a little. How could the guy believe that of him? Beyond the name. And the camera out across from a guild HQ. And the reaction to him. Okay, yeah, he gets it now. But still ew.

"...good," Otto says, after a moment of staring down his nose at the guy, gauging him. He seems honest. Honestly disgusted by tabloid media, at least, so they agree on something.

It takes a second of split focus to get the actuators to stop bristling quite so openly, but the claws close slightly and drop a little lower. "Taking photos for the papers, then?" See, this is how you know he's not originally from this particular decade!

"Not even that," Mark said, shaking his head. Though that wasn't bad pay, if you could get it. "Freelancer, trying to build up the artistic side of my portfolio."

He loved landscape and architecture work, and this building had a story he wanted to tell. It was something about the higher floors and the way the design warred between old and new, and the sky above, and well, he was just loving it.

"Right." It's a nice enough building, he supposes. Mostly, Otto ends up coming here for vaguely irritating paperwork reasons. "Well, I'd keep an eye out. Not everyone's going to like seeing cameras pointed in their direction - or, worse, Fantastic might come out here."

Mark wants to roll his eyes.

"Fantastic really wouldn't look good in the public eye with harassing a young artist."

Still, he lifts the camera, turns the display to Otto, and then flips through the last twenty pictures at a reasonable speed. All of the same part of the higher levels. All windows closed. All clearly with some artistic merit at least in Mark's eyes (and perhaps in those of critics) but not yet perfect in his eyes.

"I'm not taking pictures of people. I didn't bring any waivers for people to sign for permission to use their likeness in my art, so I literally have to stop if there's even a HINT of people directly in front of me. At least I'm trying to respect privacy. I just want this picture done right. I don't know if it's going to be portfolio quality, but at the last I want it up in my apartment."

Otto squints at the display, and one of his claws bobs up to point its claw at the screen as well. They make everything so goddamn bright around here.

"You would be surprised what Fantastic can get away with. He's rich and famous." It really wouldn't be a big problem for him to harass some nobody. Otto is quite sure of that! Nonetheless, the guy does seem to be acting in good faith. That's not going to be quite enough to protect him from any and all backlash...but it's a bit charming that he thinks it will.

He takes a step back, claws withdrawing. "Well, go on. I'll just hang out here until you're done. Their PR department won't bother you if I'm here." Otto and the PR department do not get on!

Woah, that claw was SUPER in his business. Why would Otto make it do that? Because Mark has no clue the guy doesn't control them fully. So, yeah, just nervous energy here.

"Yeah, well, he's a dick," Mark said with no hesitation. And honestly, with the potency of that Meta's power, Mark knew when he was coming. The winds kicked up around Mark with enough warning, winds under his own control, that he knew to just go away then.

"Wait, they have a PR department?" Mark asks, eyes wide. That's interesting. "Think you could get me a contact card? Like, I wouldn't mind if they put my name out there for lower level Metas who might want head and shoulder shots for their own purposes. Like, business is not the greatest in the fall and winter. Less weddings and concerts."

"He is," Otto agrees easily. Fantastic! Nobody likes him!

At the question, he lets out a short laugh. "I'll get you a card, but you don't want to name-drop me there. I'm not exactly popular over there." So it's not really an in. But hey! Better than nothing?

Well, that would leave Mark tempted to disrupt the guy's windstreams, but he'll pass.

He's also not going to note that he's been here most of the day and he wants to get himself through to about sunset. Otto will get bored or Mark will feel awkward and they will go their own ways he supposes.

"Why aren't you popular?"

Mark doesn't keep THAT up with things.

"Oh, I wouldn't get any social media accounts, and it went from there." Otto's unpopular with the people in the PR department, specifically! He doesn't really have a clear read on how popular he may or may not be with the public - on one hand, he's got a knock-off action figure or two! On the other, Excelsior sure doesn't make him feel very popular.

But that isn't important. It never was about awards or glory, and it sure as hell isn't now.

"They wanted to market as many of us off-world metas as they could. I don't see how I was that marketable to begin with." He's just an old guy? With some arms?

Oh, wow, that's just sad. Like, them not liking him for wanting privacy. Mark winces for Otto, even if he can't imagine not having social media himself.

"Dude, Rue Moore isn't wrong. Like, I read some of the comments on Reddit about it. There are some people that really want a piece of you. You're marketable for a few reasons. I even saw one thread that was all about 'I wish he would come to my summer bbqs and grill and tell me that he's proud of me'. Like, you could make money being hired out as a supportive dad for a day."

To be completely fair: he got kinda crabby himself after the second or third ask. It goes both ways!

"Oh..." Otto looks slightly alarmed. He knew what a dilf was, even if he didn't...quite understand how he got caught up in it, but that. That is an entire different thing. "That's...a little tragic, actually." Are people okay? Like generally?

Oh Otto, of course they aren't.

"Not saying I would hire you for it, but I get where they are coming from a little. I mean, I hate to play to the stereotype, but my parents sorely disapproved of me going into the arts rather than even a 'soft' science like Joanie did with psych. And more than once I have been asked if some... rather traumatic experiences 'fixed' the parts of me they didn't like or approve of."

The last time has been bad enough that Mark had abandoned his work and fled back to his sister. Had made him seek a way to be 'fixed'. Which, by sheer luck, had meant he accidentally helped save a lot of lives including his sisters, but damn, he had also almost fallen back into the bottle.

"Sometimes all people want is an approving parent, and 'dad bod' works in more than one way. Add in that apparently some of them are wowed because you're a scientist and a hero? Extra credit."

Otto scoffs, several claws snapping in irritation. "Ridiculous. You close yourself off to so much of the human experience by denigrating the arts. They're vital." The love of his life was a poet - and it's possible that before meeting her, Otto could be a little bit of a science snob himself. The most irritating things in the world are the cringe things you did when you were a snot-nosed kid!

Anyway. It's almost a little flattering when laid out like that. Flattering and sad, maybe? But Otto's still not entirely comfortable with that much attention. It is, at least partially, for personal reasons; he can own that.

"I'm hardly a hero," he demurs. "Just an old man with more arms than is good for him."

Okay, Mark may have just known the guy from online gossip before, but congrats Otto, you've been elevated to actual hero now. Because that passion and insistence is exactly what the world, and artists, need more of. He grins.

"You may have more arms than is good for you, but your arms are sure good for others," Mark pints out. And shouldn't that matter too?

"Thank you, by the way. For sticking up for the arts. Hard science people don't always do that."

Otto shrugs. "On occasion." He's pitched in a lot lately, what with all the large-scale disasters, but he's not one of those who spends his nights fighting crime on the streets. Maybe he should...it's what Peter or Doreen would do, any of those kids he's going grey over. But he's old and tired, and far from invincible. One thing gets past those arms, one day, and he's toast.

It's what he tells himself. Maybe it's wrong. Wouldn't be the worst thing he's ever done.

At the thanks, he gives Mark a tight smile. "My wife was a poet. She was smarter than I've ever been."

Yeah, but sometimes heroes aren't he ones that patrol the streets. They're the ones that act when they have to and protect others. Or sometimes they just give hugs. Which those arms are probably good at, if they're nice.

"That you think that way of her just shows you have a lot of heart, sir. Makes me sad you get more known because of that gossip instead of as who you are."

Which, you know, is what PR is for.

That is what PR is for, isn't it?

"Well, that's kind of you to say." Maybe slightly overblown, but Otto's no fan of the gossip rags either. "Maybe I'll have to make a Tiktok video about it sometime."

He's joking about doing that. He's not joking at all about thinking they're called "Tiktok videos".

That's literally what PR is for, yes. Though when Ottos says 'a Tiktok video' Mark has to fight not to wince. Man, don't do that. Please.

"Don't TikTok, man, they will eat you alive."

Otto laughs. "Don't worry, I'm not going to. I've seen a few, I'm not interested." Peter's shown him a couple. They can be funny, but he's not going to get online to do some kind of...stupid one-minute dance, or whatever it is people get up to.

Well, there's that, and Mark smiles. At last he fishes out the lens cap of his camera. Now that he's talked so much to Otto, he doesn't want to cause problems for the guy, so he's going to abandon trying to get the picture. There are other buildings, other edifices, other places he could hope to find something new.

"I don't know. You're a scientist, so you could always use it for science outreach, to inspire kids into the STEM field. A whole 'stay in school' thing."

"Ah, did you get it?" For all he knows, one of those last shots was the one! Otto's never been much of a photographer. Not artistically, anyway; imagine how many random shots of Rosie he'd have on his phone, if he'd had a smartphone back then.

The suggestion makes him chuckle. "Is that where people do those things, these days? I thought it was for funny dances, or something like that."

"Nope," Mark says with a shrug. He didn't think he had. But hey, he's not going to make trouble. And he's not going to make the man sit here for hours. "But it's okay. Better that I go through PR and not get arrested by one of the stiff necks here just because I want to capture a good image."

Still, he smiles because he made the guy chuckle, and he's not going to shake a stick at that.

"So Tiktok became a thing while I was in a coma for a while, so I'm not fully up on it, but I've looked into it, curiously. And yeah, there are things like that. And pets. Make-up tutorials. All sorts of things. But there are also scientists and science teachers and other educators doing cool things or showing off cool places. Maybe there are only little bursts of knowledge, but it can encourage people to look for more. Though, well, I hope none of those history buffs who make insanely detailed scale models of battles get into it."

He had enough of that from his father and it was so dull.

"...I guess so."

Geez, now he feels a little bad for messing up the guy's shoot! It probably is for the best, though. Otto wouldn't have interfered that much at all if he didn't think it might turn into a problem.

"That is interesting. I hadn't realized it was so varied." He can show off some neat science things, if nothing else. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if it were on his own terms?

Don't feel bad. Probably saved him an arrest under suspicion because he's an unaffiliated.

"That's the wonder of the internet. So many different things out there. I even found a website that specializes in people's custom lego builds. Pretty cool stuff."

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