metalogs | OPEN | Disasters Mean Rethinking Decisions

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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

"That's, uh..." The grin wavers a little bit. Meeting someone with similar powers is really exciting, sure, but Doreen is still a bit nervous about discussing this stuff in public. She doesn't have the tail out, but she does have a secret identity to keep under wraps, so right now her caution is fighting a losing battle against her enthusiasm and total lack of subtlety.

"I mean, 'boss' implies some kind of top-down hierarchy, and that is definitely not the case! I wouldn't want to be anybody's boss." This is said with a sidelong glance at Franky the Squirrel, she asked him to stop calling her that, this is a conversation they've had before!

"... Incidentally, he's got a point about the photography," she says, leaning in to speak in a hushed voice. "Those animal calendars do numbers, dude."

So yes, definitely from her. Would it be weird to just walk away and pretend he can't hear squirrels? Or would the squirrels follow him? Mysteries abound.

He can't not address her point though.

"Didn't think squirrels had social structures at all. Or, you know, talked. And maybe they do, but they require serious additional work I can't do so that they can get done for a mass market production."

"Oh, they're really interesting, actually! Eastern Greys are a little more solitary, and American Reds are a little more communal, but can get pretty aggro about territorial disputes, and..." Wait. He didn't know they spoke? Like, at all?! Doreen's eyes widen in surprise. He's a newbie!

"You, um, you must be new at this, huh? Don't worry, it's a little weird at first, but they're cool li'l guys, I promise!"

Eastern Greys? American Reds? Wait, squirrels come in different personality groups? Oh man, this is just a lot. WIth a sigh he produces his lens cap from a pocket, puts it on the camera, and proceeds to offer his full attention to the strange young woman.

"Very new. New as of whenever I got within thirty feet of you. And yeah, it's really weird. The last time I heard a talking animal it was an alien. Okay, second to last time. There was also a dude earlier who was a shapeshifter."

And cute, but that isn't the point.

More like different breeds and colorations! Doreen is full of Squirrel Facts, it comes with the territory.

"Oh. Oh, jeez, it's a proximity thing! Sorry, I thought..." She goes a bit red. This isn't the first time she's assumed someone had talking-to-animals powers, although she's only half wrong in this case!

"... Wait, could the dude shapeshift into animals? Because that would be even cooler than talking to animals. Heck, you could do that too, your vocal cords and jaw would be the right shape."

"It's okay," Mark said, raising a hand in hopes of calming her. "I'm..."

Shit, he hadn't wanted this getting out, but there was no avoiding that he was a Meta right now.

"I'm not sure what you'd call me actually. Back home we just say I copy powers. And you're not the only one that has ever reacted to me mirroring them and been happy. It's okay to want someone who knows what you've gone through. I don't mind sticking around to talk about it."

He's one of the few people that will ever manage to 'get' this sort of stuff, even if it's more limited.

"Yeah, he said it was a kind of magic he had gotten here. It was weird, though, having a red panda start talking to me and touching my camera."

It's ok buddy, they're both in it now! The only way out of this potentially awkward conversation is straight through, hopefully without mentioning the words 'unaligned meta' in front of the Alliance building at any point!

"I know a couple people back home who can do it," Doreen says with a fond grin. "One talks to chipmunks, and the other to fish." Buuut if she thinks about them for too long she'll get homesick, so! Subject change! "That must be pretty wild, though! Does this kind of stuff happen to you often? Is it automatic, or...? If this is too personal, you don't have to answer!"

... And then the bit about the red panda sinks in.

"What! Ohmygosh! Seriously?! A Red Panda! Dude, I'm surprised you didn't get overwhelmed from the cuteness and just give him the camera!"

Straight through and on til morning and all of that. Wait, no, that’s third star on the left? Still, talking about powers so close to the building, especially when he’s pretty sure they know he exists seeing as he came in through guild channels, he just… He wants to move away if they’re going to talk.

“Come on, let’s get coffee,” he suggests. Better to do this somewhere else. “As for what I do it… varies. Here it seems more complicated than back home. I don’t get everything, and I don’t get it as strong. Which I tend to like better. Though sometimes it goes wrong.”

He remembers that day he almost blew up part of a bank thanks to some speedster that also did that.

“Guy was plenty cute without the panda form, and he wasn’t really familiar with modern cameras, and it’s my livelihood, so I couldn’t just let it go.”

"Oh, good call, I know a place not far from here. C'mon!" Doreen gives the Alliance headquarters one last cautious look over her shoulder, and then starts heading for the nearest crosswalk. She's been in Central City long enough to have a few favourite coffee shops by now, and the one she has in mind has excellent cookies, plus the baristas there draw acorns in her lattes. "That must be pretty..." don't say 'nuts', don't say 'nuts'! "... Pretty hard to adjust to, if they're constantly switching up like a grab bag."

Once they cross the street, she starts leading them to a hole-in-the-wall coffee joint a couple blocks away.

"Oho, even without the panda form, huh?" This is said with a grin, and some truly over the top eyebrow-waggling. Doreen doesn't even know this panda guy, and she's already started shipping the two of them. "That's some pretty high praise!"

Mark only knew the one coffee house, so he should probably learn more, especially if the place has cookies, so he follows he easily.

"I've got experience with it. It's just a problem when it's something I can't control. I try to avoid other Metas when I can. I don't... You saw how people get about us, and I don't want to be hated like that."

Yes, eyebrow waggle away. He's used to light teasing from his sister, so he can get through this one.

"Somehow I don't think he got that he was amazing. But hey, you gotta accept that a person would think themselves better as a red panda or a fennec fox."

"... Yeah. I get that." The grin fades, and Doreen glances away for a second. She's hiding much bigger secrets than just Squirrelese most of the time, and while she's gotten used to the glares that her tail gets her when she's out crimefighting, the vitriol hasn't gotten any easier to handle. "Listen, I know your circumstances are pretty unique, but I think a lot of people here would understand what it feels like to be thrown into the deep end with this stuff, and not know how to control things. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

She'll give him her number after this conversation if he ever wants to talk, but there have to be support groups for this stuff too, right? If there aren't, there should be!

"Oh no, it's a self-esteem thing?" Doreen claps a hand over her mouth in horror. "I mean, red pandas are great, but so's he! I'm assuming, based on context clues!"

"It's... There's some baggage from home I guess, it makes me not trust people well. That's a problem I guess. It makes it harder to meet people."

Oh having someone to talk to would be so damn good. Not that he knows how to ask. There was so much that there wasn't going to be available to him seeing as he was hiding away from the guilds the best he could. And more than that, from people.

"I think he just wasn't ready to consider his physicality as opposed to his clearly sharp mind."

"... Hang on." Doreen flips through the contacts on her phone, jots down a number in a small notebook that she's definitely been carrying with her the whole time, shh, and tears the page out to hand it over to Mark.

"You ever speak to Frances Starling? She's... she definitely knows what this is like, and she's helped a lot of people who aren't super keen on signing up with anyone. Plus, you can talk to me anytime, since we're officially friends now, and... and I probably should've just airdropped you her contact info or something, that would've been easier than the analog approach, huh."

Yeah, he's got that one.

"She helped me a little, with advice. And apartment searching. It's not easy for those of us who aren't meant to wear capes," he said with a sigh. He's so scared of all of this after all. That something bad will happen to him.

That said, he's a bit shocked that she was declaring them friends.

"You don't know me. What if I'm some villain trying to make use of you through some diabolical ruse?"

"Pfft, I could take you," Doreen says, with the easy confidence of someone whose past experiences have taught her that she can take just about anyone.

"... I mean, that's not a dunk on you! It's just, you seem like a nice guy, plus I've just taken lots of self-defense lessons, and I, uh..." don't say 'I have super strength', don't say 'I have super strength'! "... I do crossfit!"

To her credit, she is surprisingly buff, the crossfit excuse is plausible!

"Yeah, I don't doubt you could," he answered. Even if she had other powers, and he suspected she did because of how her voice had caught there, she'd know how to use them better.

"You get that I'm a mimic, right? If there's something else going on, I'd have it too?"

Doreen raises a slightly skeptical eyebrow. If this guy has suddenly sprouted a tail, then he's being remarkably calm about it. Mark has the best poker face she's ever seen!

"Does that go for physical stuff too, hypothetically speaking? Like, if you ran into somebody with four arms, would you be like 'oh dang, guess I can work two different cameras at the same time!', or what? More to the point, are you a villain who's gonna try something diabolical? Because it'd be nice if someone were straightforward about that stuff for once."

No, there was something that had protected him from that particular little aspect. Unless he was also around a shapeshifter to allow his body more fluidity, it would take a hell of a lot more continuous time around Doreen to even risk a tail.

"I don't think I would have that happen. Though there are Atypicals in my world who can alter their appearance, and I could do it when I was around them too. And fuck no. Hard to be a villain when your powers are limited to what is around you."

"Villainy is more about attitude and intent than powers, I think," Doreen shrugs. "Lots of people don't have any powers at all, and they still manage to be pretty nasty."

They finally reach the coffee shop, and Doreen heads inside to stake their place in line. From the smell of it, they've arrived just in time for some fresh baked goods!

"As long as you don't intend to be a huge jerk, I'd say we're probably good."

Attitude and intent. Well, that definitely described Wadsworth. And, quite possibly, Damien. Of course thinking of him left a little twist of pain in his chest, and a grimace on his face. It's... It's hard to think about him. Easier to enter the coffee shop and take a deep breath of the caffeine he is about to put into his body.

"I am really not good at the whole 'being a huge jerk' thing. Any time I consider it, I remember that my sister would lecture me for hours if I tried."

"There you go, then! More wannabe bad guys should have disapproving siblings. It'd lower the crime rate."

Probably not, but it's a nice idea! Doreen nods at the menu written on the chalkboard above the counter; she's a regular here so she already knows what she wants, but...

"What do you feel like ordering? My treat, I just got paid."

Mark laughed and nodded at the very idea. Not that he thought that it would help he thought. Wadsworth had a sister, and yet Adam had still gotten pulled into all her bullshit.

"Oh you're a hero. I think a caramel macchiato would be good."

Doreen's smile turns into a panicked rictus grin for a second, but once she realizes he called her a hero because she's paying for his drink, she calms down and brushes it off with a nervous laugh. Secret identity intact!

"Oh! Hah, noooo, I just got lucky and had a client who actually understands the concept of invoices. You'd think paying people on time would be easy to grasp, but the more freelance I do, the less people seem to understand it."

Yeah, he'd never expect that someone who spoke to squirrels was a super hero. She was pretty safe until the first time he hears about Squirrel girl. That won't be the hardest put together for him.

"Oh fuck invoices. I hate them so much because people get SO confused when I send them invoices for my fees. And they argue about how they hadn't agreed to those prices. I actually record verbal price discussions now, for coverage."

"Hey, that's a great idea! I'm so doing that now. Recording zoom sessions and everything, so if they try to backtrack I can be like 'OH SNAP, guess what, actual proof that you agreed to these reasonable prices!'"

Once the drinks have been ordered, she steps aside to the waiting-for-drinks area and grins.

"How bad is it for you, as a photographer? Like, scale of 1-10? I do webdesign and programming stuff, but you must get a lot of people who are all 'hurr hurr I have a cell phone, how hard could photography be, I don't value the arts."

OPEN | Disasters Mean Rethinking Decisions

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sorry for the delay!

It’s totally okay