closed | may/june catch-all

[faithfall]

Who: adrian & ??
Where: various
When: may/june
What: catch-all for june & migrated TDM threads

Warnings: N/A for now?

Comments

fern & sunday - cont. from the TDM

[faithfall]

[ It's a quick trip back to his — well Yom Crook called it a bus — to fetch the tools out of the back. It's a bit awkward to manage the weight of the toolbox with just one hand in good condition, but he manages without losing too much dignity. He sets it down a bit heavily before standing to rub at the small of his back.

He's missed most of the conversation, but he can guess where it was going. ] I suppose with only one person to manage all of that, it's inevitable that the quality isn't always peerless. I do hope they haven't cut themselves short with our deal.

[ Smiling, Adrian adds: ] You'll be glad to know we were very discerning, Lady Fern. It was only a few hundred thousand of their joolies.

[ Does Adrian even remember the exact number? Nope. ]

[longtooth]

[ This much, Fern and Sunday can agree on: they should give both her and Adrian's vehicles a close look after this mishap. She hadn't expected a flat tire to happen so immediately, but it seems she'd been assuming too much when she believed that these wheels would last them for the turn of a moon, at least. ]

The... engine on mine was struggling, at first. I was told it might be a question of mediocre fuel, and to add new fuel when I got to the city.

[ But this is just an example that these cars and motorcycles are plagued with problems. With a sigh, she puts that aside for now to grab the other side of the wheel and give it a tug to dislodge it from its spot in the trunk, but for some reason it gets stuck (Strength: 3), her hands slipping off of it.

It probably has a whole lot to do with what Adrian just said. Her gaze snaps over to him, gold eyes widening. ]

How much?

[ Did he accidentally add a zero? She's going to hope so. (Nevermind, she has no hope.) ]

[catharses]

[ The tire seems to have been in storage for some time. Long enough to be rather settled in the little cutout for it and though Sunday tugs on it, his strength is certainly not of much use. Physical strength was never needed in his life as an administrator, though he frowns at the tire like it's wronged the two of them.

At Fern's question, Sunday looks up to catch her look of surprise. It is surprise, right? Probably. Whatever number it was on their loan documents is also long forgotten by Sunday as well since it'd been rather meaningless to him. ]

I hope you didn't pay more than we did.

[ It must have been surprise of the bad variety, clearly, especially if that's the case. The concern in Sunday's voice is rather sincere since if she's already had engine troubles then that seems far more unfortunate than the flat tire. Speaking of that, he's forgotten about tugging the spare out of where it's wedged as he straightens back up for a moment to pat his pockets. Too many of them in this traveling coat so he'll have to organize them later, but a second later he produces the coupon he'd had in mind. ]

Here, for the fuel. Yom Crook was kind enough to provide these as part of the negotiations. I can't promise it's for much - [ complete with a slight frown at the number of joolies since without a scale, it's another meaningless number to him - ] but please take it. It's the least I can offer for your assistance here.

[faithfall]

[ Adrian, who has been traveling with Fern for well over a month now, has a much clearer understanding of her moods. His expression falters. ]

It is... a very large vehicle. There are numerous benefits. And — yes, the coupons.

[ Thank you, Sunday. It can't possibly be that much more than what she payed, right? Surely Fern is overreacting just a bit?

He comes over to attempt to help pull the tire from the trunk, but with only one usable hand until his magic returns, he's utterly useless to them. (Nat 1) ] Perhaps there's something in the toolbox we can use to leverage it out?

[ Is he trying to change the topic now? Absolutely. ]

sunday - cont. from the TDM

[faithfall]

[ A mediator seems to make perfect sense for someone with Sunday's sense of calm certainty. Adrian had only done it sparingly himself, and even despite the extenuating circumstances, he can't say that he's ever felt suited to it. ]

Not at all. I appreciate learning something of your world, and your part in it. Mediation can be a difficult task, especially when some refuse to compromise for the greater good... What sort of organization was this Family?

[ It's certainly an unusual name for a business, though he's heard of the occasional criminal enterprise calling itself a family. He can't imagine that Sunday was a part of anything like that, of course. ]

Oh — yes, they're very common in Faerûn. Horses, or other beasts of burden, are the preferred means of travel for most. Granted, my companions and I have been traveling on foot for some weeks now... [ His brows knit, expression turning briefly pained. ] We've been separated at such a crucial time... It makes no sense at all.

[ He'd guessed that this might be some trick of Strahd's at first, but Strahd would never give up his opportunity to gloat in front of them. Adrian rubs the back of his neck, feeling the cold of the vampire's mark even through his cloak. ]

[catharses]

The greater good was what we were supposed to have in mind as it was one of The Family's tenets as followers of Xipe, the Aeon of Harmony who granted unification to those who answered the call from across many worlds. I was a member of a branch known as the Oak Family on Penacony after my sister and I were adopted by the family head after a disaster destroyed our home. Halovians, [ as he lifts a hand to press it lightly to his chest to indicate himself as an example, ] are often thought of as subjects of the Harmony who listen to the prayers of others. I myself have recently returned to walking this path.

[ There is a careful, deliberate level of neutrality to Sunday's explanation which may make his words ring slightly hollow. His feelings on the Harmony are... complicated, and far too much to give in one conversation where someone is not family with the Family and by extension, its path. At the same time, Xipe's call is not to be ignored after the tuning's resonation to restore himself pointed to his true heart. Ideals he still wants to believe in - and ones to search for outside of Penacony's corruption after he'd removed the last traces of it created by his hand. The ache of something lost and something else gained, he tells himself to not let it linger.

Easier then to listen to Adrian's answer, and not without a murmur of empathetic distress on his part when it comes to being separated from those it sounds like he cares about. A sentiment Sunday can relate to after stepping onto his new path to leave all he'd ever known behind. ]

I shall hope that you are reunited with them soon. I get the sense this world may be rather large so it's possible they landed somewhere else than where we did with Yom Crook. Having a vehicle to drive will make any search much faster, and the same for the phones we were encouraged to get at our first opportunity since that will be another way to locate them.

[ Little does he know it absolutely isn't the same technology he's used to, but it certainly sounds promising enough. ]

[faithfall]

[ 'Aeon' must be what they call gods, Adrian thinks. It seems like the most reasonable assumption. There's a lot to take in even aside from that. It must be have been difficult for Sunday to have lost his home at what sounds like quite a young age, much like Fern. His expression softens with sympathy. ] I had wondered if we were alike, but I didn't want to be impolite. I am aasimar, myself. Touched by the Upper Planes — blessed, some might say. It is a strange thing to be favored in such a way, is it not? It can truly... influence the path before you.

[ There's no direct question, but only because he wants to be sensitive to Sunday's privacy when they've only just met. Adrian doesn't try to hide his curiosity at all; it's simply an invitation rather than a demand. He wants to know what Sunday means by recently returned, and if their similarities are more than superficial.

Still... Yom Crook had cautioned them about staying too long, and especially about driving after dark. Barovia had been the same, so he has no reason to think those cautions were anything but true. Adrian looks toward the horizon with a sigh. ]

Yes, I agree. If they're here, I'm certain we'll find each other before long... and in light of that, perhaps we should study these 'driving instructions' and be on our way. If your sister or other Family are here, it's my hope that you'll find them as well. We can search together.

jason - cont. from the TDM

[faithfall]

[ What was that, behind them? Have they really outrun it? Or will one or both of them wake with more marks on their bodies, a claim of ownership from something they don't understand? Adrian does his level best not to shiver. ]

You could have died. I would have died if you were even half as mad. [ Adrian lets him go and gives the back of his jacket a little smack for good measure. The raindrops probably hit harder than he does, and he's not intending to hurt anyone even so. It's just — frustrating. ] At the very least, you'll let me heal it for you, you ridiculous man.

[ It comes out sounding very firm, he thinks, even if there was a tiny waver at the end there. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and every little breeze reminds him of just how cold it is when he isn't pressed against a much larger, warmer body. They're not getting rained on anymore, but he's still unbearably damp.

He dismounts after the man does — more smoothly than one might expect — and wraps his arms around himself immediately after. ] ...Though, perhaps we'd best look after it inside. Oh — I'm Adrian, by the way.

[tirejacked]

[One problem at a time, probably.

He's weathered the weight of far worse criticism, so unsurprisingly he tanks that smack and that little tirade like a champ. Wandering over toward the front door of the convenience store and peering through the glass. Odds are anything resembling actual first aid or useful supplies will have been looted already, but maybe they'll get lucky. His tone, unlike the rest of them, tips incredibly dry.]

You're welcome, by the way.

[It's more ironic than angry. He doesn't really care if Adrian is all that grateful, but hey. He went out of his way to cave horrible eldritch sigils into himself. Don't be rude. Still, now that they've got a minute to sort themselves out—]

Jason.

[Distracted. The door isn't precisely locked but it does stick a bit when he tries it. He jimmies it a bit, then puts a shoulder into it, and it finally scrapes open. A bell above the doorframe jingles merrily. He glances back just in time to catch the shivering.]

C'mon, before you blow away.

[It's dry and a lot less windy inside. If nothing else, they could wait out the worst of the rain. He's a bit drier thanks to not having been drunked in the flooding building, and the leather of his jacket has repelled the rain, if not the bleeding. He shrugs out of it once he's inside, the sleeves of his shirt still rolled up to show the damage, blood still dripping down from his fingers to spot the floor.

Well, it sure looks worse than he remembers. Maybe Adrian has a point, actually.]

ambi just lmk if jason runs away before he can do this i can edit

[faithfall]

Before you bleed out on the floor. [ Adrian retorts, but he's grateful to be inside where at least the wind isn't cutting through his sodden clothing. When he speaks again, it's frank, but with an unreserved sincerity none the less. ] Thank you, truly. For not dying, and for saving my life. Now, if you don't mind...

[ He watches Jason shrug out of his jacket, then steps forward, reaching for his arm. The movement is slow and deliberate, one that might easily be brushed off, but if Jason allows him to take his wrist Adrian only holds his arm at an angle that allows him to better see the damage. If not... well, he really only needs to see it well enough. ]

This is deep, so there may be some unusual scarring, but I assure you it will be purely aesthetic. It will be bright for a moment.

[ Adrian's brows knit together, his expression focused. A circle of light blooms just behind his head, then a second wider circle, like an eye surrounded by radial spikes. When the light from his halo touches the wound, the blood that runs from Jason's veins turns molten gold. It eases the pain, knits the wound back together, repairs the damage done.

It might be healed entirely, or it might still require some treatment. It's always difficult to know with someone new. The remaining scars, too, might appear as if they're still filled with gold, though they will be ordinary flesh. (Choose your own adventure do you want kintsugi scars...)

The whole affair takes only six seconds. The halo disappears all at once, and Adrian takes a step back that's only slightly unsteady. After the night he's been having, the pain of using magic feels minimal. ]

That's all I have for now. How does it feel?

fern - blood donations

[faithfall]

[ It's been a few blisteringly hot weeks since their arrival in this new and strange place. They don't have the funds to stay in a motel for more than a day every now and again, so at the moment they're simply trying to tough it out in the back of Adrian's van with the windows cracked open to let the cool night air inside, hopefully without inviting trouble.

If nothing else there is, as Yom Crook promised, plenty of room inside for both of them to sleep fairly comfortably and separately. The seats are certainly a step above a sleeping bag on the hard ground... granted, the ground might be cooler.

Adrian, who is currently nursing his second lukewarm can of something called Mister Energy, is wide awake despite the hour, squinting at his phone. He's determined to figure out exactly how it all functions. 'Calling' is simple enough, like a more efficient version of a sending stone, but the 'forum' is something else. Novel and strange. ]

Have you seen this, Lady Fern? About the blood donations?

[ He leans over the back of the seat to wave his phone at her. He isn't wearing his gloves, but they both know enough to be careful.

As time has worn on, Adrian has found himself more and more certain that Strahd can't possibly be behind the situation they've found themselves in. The vampire simply doesn't have the patience to send them off on an adventure that seems entirely unrelated to him. Aside from Fern's more direct encounters, this is the first sign he's seen of anything related to vampires at all. It doesn't bode well. ]

[longtooth]

[ Adrian's car has been a godsend in this one way, even if Fern has to actively try not to think about how much he paid for it. It is saving them money now, at least. Her bike can usually be parked nearby, and this has often become their routine.

The heat, though, means that the "bus" often feels like an oven, and sleeping in it even after the sun goes down is difficult. She's trying nonetheless, but the leather seats stick to her skin every time she turns over. She's slept in less ideal situations before, of course, so she isn't about to complain, but it's hardly pleasant.

She's just starting to drift off when she's jolted back to full consciousness by Adrian's voice and the light from his phone being flashed in her direction. With a grunt she blinks her eyes open, taking a moment to orient herself before pushing herself into a sit to take a closer look.

She frowns, squinting at the screen. She's looked at the forum before, but she still isn't in the habit of checking it regularly. ]

... Only after sundown? [ She scoffs. ] As if they couldn't be more obvious.

[ It's been long enough that she's in agreement that Strahd must not have any role in this. He wouldn't wait so long to reveal himself to them, to lord what he's done over them. But that doesn't mean there couldn't be other, unrelated vampires causing problems. ]

[faithfall]

[ Adrian nods. He had a feeling they'd be of the same mind about this. While Strahd has been ruled out, that doesn't mean that there aren't other vampires with similar agendas in a place like this. For all they know, they might be responsible for bringing people here to begin with. ]

My thoughts exactly. We should look into it.

[ Yes, he means right now. ]

martin - cont. from the TDM

[faithfall]

And I will try to help. [ Adrian offers, a touch more serious. As much as he might be making light of the situation at the moment, he has no idea how any of them came to be here, and there's nothing to say that other people or things from their worlds will be unable to follow. Though, for all of their sakes, he hopes that nothing from Martin and John's world in particular sees fit to join them.

He wonders what Raphael would make of all of this. Though his magic responds as it always has, there's still something else intruding on their connection, and he's not been able to speak to his patron directly at all. He hesitates in answering Martin, then shakes his head slowly. ]

I can only speak for myself, but it depends on the individual patron, and the terms of one's... agreement, which can be seemingly accidental, obscure, or even coercive to the point of unwillingness, as yours have been. [ A slight incline of his head. ] For myself, I asked for what was given to me. Raphael is a deva, or an angel, if you're familiar with either of those terms. He ultimately wishes for me to do good, but we have had our disagreements on what form that should take; he sees evil as a blight, only fit to be scorched from existence, and I... Forgive me, this must sound terribly petulant to you, after all you've been through, but I don't like killing if there is some other mercy to be granted.

[ He touches just under his neck absently, feeling the chill of his pact mark even through his clothing. Perhaps it's best if he keeps things simple, without mentioning Lanneth. ] But to answer your question — rarely. It's far more common for the warlock to petition their patron for more power by acting in accordance with their expectations. Patrons often select those with whom they already have some affinity.

[ Thus, his assumption that Martin and John are like him, even if their circumstances and deities are quite different. Their gods sound more like demon lords, with nothing at all to keep them in check.

He smiles at the comment about Martin's 'villain arc', and then his assertion about John. Adrian is perhaps not as surprised as he ought to be; he's curious, fascinated. ]

That's kind of you. Yes, please. I'd be very curious to meet him. I know that your telling has been somewhat abridged, but I can't say that I would have made a different choice in his position. [ Adrian grimaces the second after the words leave his mouth. ] Please don't tell Lady Fern I've said that. She worries quite enough as it is.

I am so sorry for ...all of this.

[positivelyroomy]

[ Adrian’s Patrons make the Fears look like a feral pack of hyenas. They were primal in that way, wantonly reaching out to feed their own existence. Only the Web and Terminus showed signs of awareness of their own mortalities in a world cyphoned dry. Humanity, however, tended to be problematic and morph intentions to mirror their own desire for power. Jonah certainly hadn't been the first, but it was his own desire for immortality rather than the Eye's will to orchestrate a power grab to raise it up.

Martin can’t imagine the Lonely ever having a voice. It is a pressure at the back of his mind, however, urging him to cater to those parts of himself that benefit it best. What he is doing here doesn't mesh, but he's stubborn. Right now, finding common ground with someone like Adrian feeds the other clingy Patron who's so fond of him. ]

You said their name was Raphael? [ Martin sounds a bit confused – it’s just weird hearing about religious figures actually being tangible. And willing to bestow powers to those who ask. ] The archangel of healing Raphael? [ the wtfery is evident now and he frowns in thought ] I'm not religious, but we broke the world and the only omniscient force that stepped in was John. [ Martin’s grin is teasing. ] So if all of those religious figures were real, they just couldn’t be bothered to care. To be fair, the extent to which the Fears cared was pretty self-serving.

[ Martin rolls his shoulders and decides to finally settle back off of his knees, legs crossed and elbows pressed into the meat of his thigh. ] Why would I call you petulant? Patrons are detached from our mess. It’s all black and white, and– and that’s not how life works. [ He seems intent on staring down a hangnail on his thumb as he continues. ] You do the best you can.

[ His attention is drawn back just in time to see that grimace. He wonders, for a confusing and rather troubling moment, if he just collects the same type of individual? In this sense, it’s platonic because he thinks he’d rather enjoy being Adrian’s friend – and potentially another set of eyes for Lady Fern (RIP your blood pressure, queen), but the irony is not lost on him. ]

Maybe she already knows that you would do something like that, and that’s why she worries. I-I mean, maybe not to the extent of cooking a planet… I hope not at least. [ The look he shoots Adrian just screams “particularly this one,” but it isn’t threatening. ] I knew John would be too stubborn to concede anything short of self-destruction. Still can't decide if that's a red flag or not.

… so how long have you been with Lady Fern? [ LISTEN HE MISUNDERSTOOD THE LEVEL OF COMPANIONSHIP. ]

[faithfall]

You've heard of him? [ Adrian is just as baffled by this revelation. Angels in general, certainly, but very few people would know them by name in Faerûn. Even Adrian himself has never been entirely certain of what exactly Raphael is. Deva has always been his best guess, with the wings and their lifelong affinity. ] There's a religion dedicated to Raphael..? Surely it must have been another... If he was able to reach your plane of existence, he would have no choice but to intervene against your Fears. Many of the gods would have long since demanded it. It's truly strange that the only gods in your world are these Fears... I wonder if they've consumed all others, or if your world was sealed to contain them perhaps.

[ It's all idle speculation. Adrian is both horrified and fascinated. To think that an ordinary human had reached such heights as to contend with the nearest thing to gods in his plane of existence. He's heard of heroes like that, but even to Adrian they had seemed fanciful and distant. Entirely unlike ordinary people by the time the stories of them became known. Perhaps it's Martin's telling that makes John's humanity seem so apparent.

Adrian exhales slowly. ] Indeed, we do the best that we can.

[ As for cooking a planet... Adrian rubs the back of his neck. He thinks of Strahd's blood red eyes meeting his across the dining table. ] No... No, but even so, I try not to worry her more than I must. I suppose that past a certain point, the color of the flag is immaterial, and John and I must be sure not to take your respective loyalty for granted.

[ He smiles, a bit tired. He's done that already, hasn't he? Adrian looks down at his hands, not parsing the implication at first. ] We've been traveling together for over... oh, oh goodness no we aren't. [ He wrinkles his nose just a bit. There isn't anything wrong with the idea objectively. He even understands why it might come across that way... but it does feel strange to think about, and a bit off-putting. ] My apologies for misleading you. Lady Fern is like a sister to me in all but blood. I don't think either of us are interested in a courtship.

I... don't think of courtship much in general, to be frank. [ Still rubbing the back of his neck, where Strahd's mark remains, an unwanted claim. ] I suppose I can't say that I've been too busy... you've certainly managed it while saving your world.

samus - cont. from the TDM

[faithfall]

[ Adrian tilts his head. ] The healing? Or magic in general?

[ He hopes that she isn't from one of those worlds where magic is frowned upon, but she doesn't seem hostile — just curious. It's fair enough to be weary, even so far as to keep her name to herself. ]

Where I'm from, one may manipulate the weave of ambient magical energies given the training or innate ability, or if they're granted power by other entities. I'm the latter — a warlock. So... In a manner of speaking, I asked nicely. [ He rubs the back of his neck, shrugs. It's really a terrible answer but he isn't a wizard. He understands magic in an innate way that makes it difficult to explain. ] It won't harm you, if that's your concern. Does that mean your world has a lot of... technology, is it?

[exoterminator]

...Yes. [ She listens, interested. Skeptical but interested, and finds it interesting he seemed to correlate her question of magic to some inverse; technology. ] Yes.

What you've done I've seen performed through the use of cybernetic implants, and light technology.

Which seems more... limited here.

[faithfall]

This is limited? [ Adrian's eyes widen, his interest suddenly intense. ] You must tell me more about your world. How are these cybernetic implants used to heal? Can you replicate this light technology?

[ He's ready to quit this job on the spot and grill her with about thirty thousand questions. Run while you can, Samus. ]

viktor & jayce - cont. from the TDM

[faithfall]

I can help to clean up Mr. Jayce. May I..? [ Adrian steps forward, extending a hand over the place that Jayce was wiping down. His fingers contort in a way that's only slightly uncanny, but no less precise than Viktor's claw. ] I pray for your cleansing grace. [ He makes a sweeping motion with the side of his hand. The old grease vanishes. It isn't a polished kind of clean, but it is clear of gunk and debris. The whole affair takes about six seconds. He looks to Jayce, hopeful that he's done it correctly. He mostly just wants to be a bit useful while they're so kindly fixing his vehicle and indulging his many questions.

He turns to Viktor after he's done. ] Biomechanical... [ The word is new to him, but he understands the gist of what it might mean, with the context of Viktor's skeletal frame. He's dreadfully curious about what the inside of his body must look like, to have something like this entwined with his flesh. ] So this technology can interact with the weave — that is, the ambient energy you referred to — so long as you act as a conduit? ...Or is it the other way around..? You attune with it, and it confers its abilities to you..?

[hexcurse]

[ Jayce watches Viktor - they really do need to reach a consensus on what they should and shouldn't be telling people about themselves. A little late for that now, though. ]

Just Jayce is fine - [ he tries to insist, and he's about to politely tell Adrian that he's got it.

The wash of magic through the air sends the hairs at the back of his neck standing up as he takes a half step back, his breath held, eyes wide - maybe first with surprise and tension, but swiftly he relaxes.

His expression softens, a wistful kind of curiosity as he steps toward the engine again to inspect the effects of the spell, allowing Adrian and Viktor to continue chatting. ]

[mechatheism]

[Jayce's reluctance to elaborate does not go unnoticed--Viktor suddenly wonders if he's said too much. Still, he thinks it's better to offer some barebones explanation, especially if he's using the Hexclaw to repair the engine. Adrian seems merely curious, so Viktor nods.]

Something like that.

[That's all he'll say with regards to that, sensing that Jayce more-or-less wants him to be more discrete. Viktor solders a stray wire back to its partner and steps away, watching the grease vanish with a spell of Adrian's own.]

Is that what you do?

eliot - bowling ball murder

[faithfall]

[ One would think that after his time in Barovia, Adrian would know when to leave well enough alone. One would be wrong. To know that a person has died in such a brutal way, with no one to care how or why it happened... It's tiresome. Callous. As if even here, life is worth nothing.

While he doesn't suspect that there's some supernatural cause, he does at least want to understand and ensure that these incidents don't look as if they'll spread. He's being careful, at least for now, until he knows whether it makes any sense to trouble Fern to join him.

He starts at the bowling alley, and people are... surprisingly forthcoming, in that they see the murder as little more than idle gossip, and are happy to divulge. A very tall woman with a high ponytail and a leather jacket even tells him that she dated Billy once — and that he isn't worth the time.

Adrian is just turning to head out toward the barbershop when a man walks into him, knocking him back into another, larger man, who releases his bowling ball into the gutter with a string of curses. His friend cackles. So much for your perfect game, Al. That'll be 100 joolies.

Before Adrian can orient himself again, 'Al' has lifted him up by the collar of his shirt with one meaty hand while the other — a mechanical arm — begins to rearrange itself into what Adrian can only assume is some kind of weapon.

Maybe I can sell this fancy little twerp for parts.

Adrian would object to the designation of fancy little twerp, but he can't breathe around that grip choking him out. He claws ineffectively at an arm that has a truly impractical volume of muscle. ]

[retrievalist]

[ Of course, it's not usually murders he and his team deal with—well, not an out and out murder; no one on the team would say that jacking up the price of life-saving meds or dumping toxic waste near a town's watersupply isn't also murder—but he's alone and he's in a new place; it'd be stupid not to get a lay of the land. And maybe there's someone who needs help. Old habits die hard, after all.

He starts at the bowling alley, figuring there must be a reason why the killer landed on a bowling ball as their weapon of choice, and finds he doesn't even need to turn on the charm to get people spilling what they know. Which is, generally, that the victim had it coming, even if no one can really agree on why. Eliot's just finishing up with the waitress over by the food counter selling tater tots and very questionable meat—she insists that Billy'd been skimming a little off the top, everyone knew it, but he can't get a straight answer on what he was skimming off the top of—when a bunch of yelling and swearing starts up by the lanes.

Somehow, he's not all too surprised to see the cabbage kid at the centre of it when he turns around. He's even less surprised to see that the kid has already pissed someone off enough that he's dangling from some guy's fist like something out of some low budget action movie. Eliot will admit that he is petty enough to lean back against the counter and wait it out, petty enough to think good, maybe getting knocked around for a bit will calm you down. Not so petty to stay there when the big guy's prosthetic hand seems to transform (?) into some kind of gun (??). Eliot sighs and straightens up.

Excuse me, sweetheart, he says to the waitress. He has to vault over one table and cross one lane to get there, but he gets there in time to knock the gun....arm....thing off course so that whatever it shoots discharges up towards the ceiling. ]

Is all this really necessary? Me and Carla are trying to have a conversation here.

[faithfall]

[ Oh, Raphael, could you have sent anyone but him? Adrian would almost prefer if he had been 'scrapped for parts.'

Cabbage man is surprisingly fast, agile and precise in a way that Adrian has only ever seen in Fern.

The arm canon thing (not nearly as interesting as Samus') fires into the ceiling, and wood dust rains down on them, as if it was filled with old shrapnel. Non-lethal, then, but it hardly fills Adrian with any comfort while he's being dangled like a stray cat.

Hey! Fuck off buddy, this ain't any of your business.

Of course cabbage man is only fussed about his conversation being interrupted, with no produce here for him to molest. Still, the distraction has loosened that grip just enough for Adrian to suck air into his lungs.

His halo appears at once, like an eye opening behind his head, and Adrian moves fast too. He makes a gesture with one hand, three fingers, a sharp flick of his wrist. The halo inverts to black, casting a greenish light at his attacker. ] Plague.

[ Wha—

There's no visible indicator of what happens, except that the man drops Adrian to clutch at his stomach with both hands and groan. Adrian manages to land on his feet and stagger back out of reach just as his attacker's eyes bulge and his cheeks fill with what must be vomit. The spell isn't strong enough to kill, but it will certainly put the man at a disadvantage for a moment.

Adrian reaches behind his head, hand poised near one of the radial spikes of his halo, as if he's planning to draw it like a weapon despite the fact that his chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath again. He's resolutely not looking at cabbage man. ]

I apologize... for my rudeness. Perhaps we can all return to our business now.