Accelerator (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
levelshift) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metalogs2023-05-03 04:04 pm
levelshift) wrote in metalogs2023-05-03 04:04 pm
[Open] You hate your pulse because it thinks you're still alive
Who: Accelerator levelshift
What: Open May prompts for Accelerator.
When: Late April/May
Where: Central City, Lofty Heights
Content Warnings: Accelerator's brain injury might come up, will update as needed.
A. Pet Store - Central City
[When Accelerator had registered with the Society, he had expected to be doing work for them. After all, you don't sign up with a bunch of villains and expect accommodations and a high-end supercomputer to fill in for your brain functions for free, that would be silly. Sure, he wasn't totally sure what he was getting into, but he's been through a lot in his life. He figured he could handle whatever they threw at him.
And what they threw at him was cats.
There were other things, of course, but the cats. He had never given any thought to the term 'cat lady' before, and now it's a part of his daily life. While he doesn't have anything against felines, he can't say he's a cat person. Or an animal person, honestly. When you're raised in an enclosed city as their best guinea pig, you don't really ever have the chance to consider literal guinea pigs. Or rats. Or cats.
So here he is, at a pet store near the Society's headquarters in Central, having memorized and long thrown out the original list Chaos Gate had given him. One thing on it was the need to feed the cats at the office on a daily basis. Sometimes the lions and panther, but that requires a trip to the butcher. Today he only needs a bag of cat food and some tins.
Accelerator has the brands and flavours remembered, but he's still standing outside the entrance to the store like he's allergic to this whole business. He's tapping his fingers on his crutch, and he can't figure out if that's due to irritation or anxiousness or what.
He's never actually been inside a pet store before. This is weird.]
Fucking hell.
B. Lunchtime at Lofty Heights
[School. Highschool.
Alright, so his first few days hadn't been the absolute worst, but when that bar is buried six feet under the ground it isn't hard to clear. Mostly Accelerator has been working at getting over the culture shock that is American high school, having classmates for the first time in five years, and not experiencing any overt experimentation that would be better labelled as war crimes. It's a lot, but he's managing. He kind of has to - part of his deal with the Society wasn't just attending school, but maintaining exemplary grades and scoping out potential members for the guild. Kind of hard to do that if he's skipping all the time or getting a million years of detention for becoming violent.
So it's been fine. He's dealing with it. He is, however, grateful when lunch rolls around. It means a break from the structured socialization that comes with some of his classes. The cafeteria is still noisy, but it's a tolerable noise.
(Also, with thirty minutes of battery power, he can occasionally spare a few to flip his choker to esper mode and reflect all those sound waves if he can't be bothered to tolerate it.)
Thankfully, he's managed to snag the last empty table in the cafeteria. Which, for him, feels like a win. Sitting alone probably gives off pariah vibes or some ridiculous notion in the hellscape that is the high school social hierarchy, but Accelerator is fine with that right now. Ugh, all of this is exhausting.
He sits down, leaning his crutch up against the table, and looks down at his tray of food, consisting of a burger, fries, some grapes, and a cup of coffee. After some examination of the burger he makes a face and decides to stick with the fries.]
C. Society work - Central City
[It's some late night in a sketchy area of Central City, and Accelerator is leaned up against the side of a building on a darkened street corner. He's got his crutch leaning on the wall next to him and one hand jammed into the pocket of his jeans. His other hand is typing away on his phone. He pauses to yawn, then finishes up what he was writing and hits send.
It's the absolute pinnacle of some delinquent teenager loitering around and contributing nothing to society.
One downside to working for the Society are the hours - supervillains really, really love their nighttime shenanigans. He'd been hanging out here for about a half hour to meet up with some low level criminal to give him details on a job that had been requested from the guild. Most of that time had been spent waiting, with the actual handoff only taking a few minutes. It was for some bullshit he doesn't really care about, but Chaos Gate had told him to meet with the guy so he did. He'd rather be back at his apartment sleeping, but what can you do? It had at least gone pretty smoothly, the guy showed up, took the papers, and wooshed off into the night all dramatic.]
I need a coffee....
[He's muttering that to no one in particular as he shoves his phone back into his hoodie pocket. A coffee would definitely be great right now, his brain is zeroing in on the desire for the caffeine and cheap taste, when a large, bulky figure alights down in front of him.
This guy is big. Easily three times as big as Accelerator (though that isn't difficult to pull off, given how scrawny he is), and the leathery, mottled wings jutting out of his back make him look even bigger. He's got a helmet with horns sticking out of it, so... dragon? Gargoyle?
Either way, the guy is pissed off, and starts laying into Accelerator. There's something about bad intel and his entire crew getting arrested, and a whole lot of angry venting. Accelerator, though, just looks tired and a bit exasperated as he waits for the guy to finish.]
levelshiftWhat: Open May prompts for Accelerator.
When: Late April/May
Where: Central City, Lofty Heights
Content Warnings: Accelerator's brain injury might come up, will update as needed.
A. Pet Store - Central City
[When Accelerator had registered with the Society, he had expected to be doing work for them. After all, you don't sign up with a bunch of villains and expect accommodations and a high-end supercomputer to fill in for your brain functions for free, that would be silly. Sure, he wasn't totally sure what he was getting into, but he's been through a lot in his life. He figured he could handle whatever they threw at him.
And what they threw at him was cats.
There were other things, of course, but the cats. He had never given any thought to the term 'cat lady' before, and now it's a part of his daily life. While he doesn't have anything against felines, he can't say he's a cat person. Or an animal person, honestly. When you're raised in an enclosed city as their best guinea pig, you don't really ever have the chance to consider literal guinea pigs. Or rats. Or cats.
So here he is, at a pet store near the Society's headquarters in Central, having memorized and long thrown out the original list Chaos Gate had given him. One thing on it was the need to feed the cats at the office on a daily basis. Sometimes the lions and panther, but that requires a trip to the butcher. Today he only needs a bag of cat food and some tins.
Accelerator has the brands and flavours remembered, but he's still standing outside the entrance to the store like he's allergic to this whole business. He's tapping his fingers on his crutch, and he can't figure out if that's due to irritation or anxiousness or what.
He's never actually been inside a pet store before. This is weird.]
Fucking hell.
B. Lunchtime at Lofty Heights
[School. Highschool.
Alright, so his first few days hadn't been the absolute worst, but when that bar is buried six feet under the ground it isn't hard to clear. Mostly Accelerator has been working at getting over the culture shock that is American high school, having classmates for the first time in five years, and not experiencing any overt experimentation that would be better labelled as war crimes. It's a lot, but he's managing. He kind of has to - part of his deal with the Society wasn't just attending school, but maintaining exemplary grades and scoping out potential members for the guild. Kind of hard to do that if he's skipping all the time or getting a million years of detention for becoming violent.
So it's been fine. He's dealing with it. He is, however, grateful when lunch rolls around. It means a break from the structured socialization that comes with some of his classes. The cafeteria is still noisy, but it's a tolerable noise.
(Also, with thirty minutes of battery power, he can occasionally spare a few to flip his choker to esper mode and reflect all those sound waves if he can't be bothered to tolerate it.)
Thankfully, he's managed to snag the last empty table in the cafeteria. Which, for him, feels like a win. Sitting alone probably gives off pariah vibes or some ridiculous notion in the hellscape that is the high school social hierarchy, but Accelerator is fine with that right now. Ugh, all of this is exhausting.
He sits down, leaning his crutch up against the table, and looks down at his tray of food, consisting of a burger, fries, some grapes, and a cup of coffee. After some examination of the burger he makes a face and decides to stick with the fries.]
C. Society work - Central City
[It's some late night in a sketchy area of Central City, and Accelerator is leaned up against the side of a building on a darkened street corner. He's got his crutch leaning on the wall next to him and one hand jammed into the pocket of his jeans. His other hand is typing away on his phone. He pauses to yawn, then finishes up what he was writing and hits send.
It's the absolute pinnacle of some delinquent teenager loitering around and contributing nothing to society.
One downside to working for the Society are the hours - supervillains really, really love their nighttime shenanigans. He'd been hanging out here for about a half hour to meet up with some low level criminal to give him details on a job that had been requested from the guild. Most of that time had been spent waiting, with the actual handoff only taking a few minutes. It was for some bullshit he doesn't really care about, but Chaos Gate had told him to meet with the guy so he did. He'd rather be back at his apartment sleeping, but what can you do? It had at least gone pretty smoothly, the guy showed up, took the papers, and wooshed off into the night all dramatic.]
I need a coffee....
[He's muttering that to no one in particular as he shoves his phone back into his hoodie pocket. A coffee would definitely be great right now, his brain is zeroing in on the desire for the caffeine and cheap taste, when a large, bulky figure alights down in front of him.
This guy is big. Easily three times as big as Accelerator (though that isn't difficult to pull off, given how scrawny he is), and the leathery, mottled wings jutting out of his back make him look even bigger. He's got a helmet with horns sticking out of it, so... dragon? Gargoyle?
Either way, the guy is pissed off, and starts laying into Accelerator. There's something about bad intel and his entire crew getting arrested, and a whole lot of angry venting. Accelerator, though, just looks tired and a bit exasperated as he waits for the guy to finish.]