September Catch-All [OTA]

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

Who: Marc, Steven, and open!
What: September catch-all, including a mini-mission
When: All month
Where: See prompts
Content Warnings: Nothing for now


I. Shopping trip - Open Markets and Night Market, OTA

Steven is finding their little apartment very drab and dour, so Marc is out trying to find things to brighten it up. Also, to expand their wardrobe a little, since their original foray had been one of desperation rather than strategy, and hadn't had much in it to Steven's taste.

So Marc wanders around the shops, looking kind of touristy but not really minding, picking up this or that to examine curiously, listening for a perk of interest or disinterest from Steven. If anyone he recognizes spots him, he'll wave. "Lookin' for something in particular?" he asks.

Or he'll try to hastily swap places with Steven, if it's one of Steven's handful of tentative friends, which results in a moment of blankness and then some rapid blinking and a, "What?"


II. Baby's First Sparring - Gym, closed to Harley

The promised afternoon, Steven shows up in clothes he doesn't mind getting sweaty, because he fully expects Harley Quinn will wipe the floor with him. Marc has gotten him a pair of poles like what they had in the suit-- truncheons, Marc called them-- so he'd have something familiar, but Marc is refusing point blank to come out and meet her. Something about not liking psychiatrists.

Well, after Doctor Harrow, Steven can't really blame him. So he's the one waiting for Harley outside the gym, waving cheerily once he spots her distinctive pigtails. "Miss Quinn! Hello, over here!"


III. Practice Makes Perfect - Mage's sector, OTA

Marc things the Mage's Sector is... quaint. Steven thinks it's adorable. Which is good, because he spends a lot of time there. Borrowing books, taking lessons twice a week with two different local tutors, and just sitting around people watching and practicing whatever spell he's working on at any given time.

He doesn't pay for reagents much, both not wanting to spend their limited stipend on something he's not really ready for, being still learning very low-level spells that don't require a lot of prep, but he absolutely gawks at them all. "What even is that?" he wonders, staring at a jar with a floating eyeball in it. "It looks like an eye. Is it an eye? What kind of spell wants for an eye, I wonder?"

Or he'll be sitting in the Hare & Hammer, nursing a beer and casting tiny illusions over his table, just for fun. Maybe it's somebody's face, or miniature fireworks, or a hollow bird skull. Okay, that one's probably a little weird.


IV. Mini-Mission - Sabotaging Sensors, OTA

They can see the top of the sensor tower from behind the boulder they're sheltering by, the best cover they have until it's time to run out and set the charges. Marc is the distraction, the cover fire, and to that end is loaded up in body armor and three layers of wool and leather under it just in case it's crappy body armor, a lot of guns, and some spare C4 in case it's necessary. Plus, Steven's hovering behind his eyes, ready to snatch his hands for spell-casting if necessary. And fretting.

(I'm not sure if the mage armor will hold up to bullets.)

"It'll be fine," Marc mutters, hopefully under his breath enough for his current partner in crime to hear it. Then he unholsters his first gun and, louder, asks, "Ready to run for it?"


V. Wildcard!

Anything else you feel like doing? I'm open, just start something, or hit me up at cacopheny on plurk!

Comments

wild card - hare & hammer

[twelfthsong]

It’s been a while since the Doctor has had anyone interested in really hearing about his travels. He might grumpy and cynical but the eagerness was definitely enough to feed his ego and hey, what was better than sharing some knowledge about an old friend that may or may not at one point have wanted to take him as her king?

When Steven arrives, he’ll find the Doctor mulling over some books about magic alongside a steaming hot pot of tea looking completely bewildered at something and really not paying any mind to his surroundings.

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

Steven might have looked up the guy's profile on the app so he'd have an appearance to go off of, so he peers around from the front door before spotting the short gray hair and long face. He waves first, not that the Doctor will see it, before weaving his way through the tables towards him.

"Hello!" he calls lightly, waving again on approach, once he's within a comfortable distance. "Hello, it's Steven! I hope I'm not interrupting."

[twelfthsong]

The voice is jarring and he holds up a hand, a quick, "Shut up I'm in the middle of this sentence -," leaving his lips as his eyes digest the rest of the sentence. When he's done he looks up expectantly at the voice that had disturbed him with a brief look of confusion on his face as he tries to recall who Steven was and why he was speaking to him.

And then he remembers. The confusion dissipates after a beat but instead of a normal, how do you do, yes good to meet you I'm the Doctor he opens with, "You're British."

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

Steven's "hope I'm not interrupting" had mostly been for politeness' sake; after all, he'd been invited. So the abrupt response makes him stop and blink in almost confused hurt.

"Well, yeah. Live in jolly old London, and all." Technically he's from Chicago, but he feels like he's from England, and he certainly sounds like it, so he mostly just rolls with the obvious. "Steven Grant? From the tether app?"

[twelfthsong]

The mild flash of hurt doesn't go unnoticed, and it's reminiscent of Clara whose eyes also easily show a similar feeling when she speaks to him and he sighs inwardly.

"Yes yes I remember." He motions to the seat across from him. "Do you want tea? I can get another cup." It's not exactly an apology but it's close for him.

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

"Tea would be lovely, yeah. They have very interesting teas here," Steven offers, rallying a little as he sinks into the seat. "I come in here a lot. It's not as loud as some of the other places, you know?"

[twelfthsong]

"Interesting as in you haven't seen them before in your universe? Or interesting taste wise?" A waitress is by their table in a moment with another tea cup and he's pouring a cup for Steven before pushing it over to him. This particular tea that he had ordered was something akin to a truffle in the sense that the fungus grew underground and had to be shuffled around by a sniffer pig.

Before tucking into his own cup he at least has the decency to bookmark his spot in the book before closing it and moving it away from him. "Is noise a big problem for you?"

baby's first sparring

[nutbuckets]

It's kinda nice, how many people she's found who're willing to do a little bit of sparring with her, so she can keep on her toes and not go all soft in this place. The guy hadn't seemed super confident about it or nothing but she's willing to go a little easy on him so he can learn whatever it is he needs to know.

When she gets to the gym, she's wearing a white tank top and a pair of pink sweatpants rolled down a couple times at the waist, a pair of white runners, her hair tied up in low pigtails so as not to get in the way. When he waves at her, she's pleasantly surprised - he's a good-looking guy who's not in piss poor shape or nothing.

"Heya! Sorry I'm a little late, had to go number two." she announces, loud enough that most of the gym can hear her, and crosses the gym toward him, grinning, "Harley's just fine, no need for politeness."

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

"I guess you really don't care for it, huh?" Steven says, surprised and admittedly a little embarrassed by her announcement, but he's gonna roll with it. She seemed pretty cool on the app. "I'm just Steven, then."

Honestly, he's in pretty great shape, but he doesn't carry himself like he knows it. He carries himself, really, like a slightly awkward but very earnest nerd who is more used to bending over books than throwing people around. "So how do we start this? I've never sparred with anybody before."

[nutbuckets]

"For what? Politeness? Naaaah, bein' polite is overrated." she says, her voice lilting in a Brooklyn-like accent that didn't entirely come through via text, "Nice t'meetcha, Steven."

She holds a hand out for a shake, then after a moment hastily adds, "Don't worry, washed my hands with soap an' all."

The whole slightly awkward but earnest nerd thing is cute. Reminds her a little of Abner Krill, who had that look down pat and who had also been pretty cute, in a similar way even. It's easy to feel fond of him already when she thinks about it like that.

"I haven't done a lot of it myself. I think it's just like play fighting though, where we're fighting, but not really trying to hurt each other. Make sense?"

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

"I wasn't worried about it," Steven promises, though now that she's brought it up, he wonders if he should have been. He gives her hand a hearty shake, though, pumping it maybe once too many times. His own accent is powerfully British, clearly more lower-class than upper-class, and maybe not quite perfect. "I'm definitely not interested in hurting anybody. I've never tried to fight without hurting anybody, though. So I might mess up a little."

[nutbuckets]

"Aw, good." she says, because most people would be worried about that kind of thing with her, though she has perfect hygiene if she does say so herself. Showers every day and everything. Well, except when she's depressed, but who doesn't neglect their showers when they're depressed?

"I love your accent, by the way." she says, eyes a little wide, but then she's powering on to talk about sparring, "Yeah me neither. I like to stick to hurting people on the field, ya know? Missions and stuff. I guess we could just start by pullin' our punches and see how that works out?"

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

"Thank you," Steven says, a bit uncertainly, mostly because: "Pull our punches. How do you... do that." He's never even heard the term, okay.

He's pretty sure he hears a groan from the nearest reflective surface, which he pointedly ignores. If Marc wants to help, he'll have to actually come out and help. So there.

III.

[noisecomplaint]

"An eye may be powerful in and of itself." Says the scantily-clad man who gouged his own eye out to keep it from falling into enemy hands-- or ending up for sale on discount. The former is a far more dangerous fate, but the latter is insulting.

Marc/Steven don't know who Rokuro is, and have no real reason to heed his words, however the bandages concealing his right eye-socket do speak to some experience on the matter.

Rokuro picks up the jar, holding it up to his still-functional left eye to observe more closely. "That said, I do not feel any 'magic' emanating from this eye. If you are looking for power I would search elsewhere." The reagent seller doesn't appear too pleased with this statement, and grabs the floating eyeball back at the soonest opportunity.

If Marc/Steven come back later they might find the same eye still available for an additional 25% off. You're (They're?) welcome.

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

"Wow, um, I'd think if anybody would know it'd be... the guy who's missing one." Steven pauses, plays that back through his head, and winces, that was probably rude, wasn't it? He's not good at judging that sort of thing.

He's distracted from that quickly, though, with a question: "Wait, you can feel magic? I thought you needed a spell for that. Or are you Heba, with a power for feeling magic?" Okay, it's a couple of questions.

[noisecomplaint]

"You are not wrong." The slightest of smiles. Rokuro isn't offended. It is what it is. He made peace with the sacrifice of his water-crest eye what feels like a lifetime ago. Now, it isn't the loss that hurts, so much as the memory of personal betrayal and failure that comes with it.

He trails his fingertips over the items on the table, noting the energies that travel up through his fingers-- or lack thereof. The seller isn't a charlatan, but it's likely he peddles his lesser wares to the rebel's newer recruits who don't have enough experience with magic to know better.

"I was born with a sensitivity to such things, although I did not know it as 'magic' until arriving here. To me, it is simply energy, whether elemental or divine. Every person has an energy, as does every object. Some are simply more powerful than others."

Rokuro doesn't say outright that he senses something strange from Stephen, as it would be rude to do so, and because... he can't quite place what it is. Unusual, given Rokuro can name most of what he feels immediately, but not unheard of.

Finally, his fingers stop over a simple rock. "If power is what you seek, this is a better choice. It holds much energy within it. As do you."

[Checked your permissions for telepathy/mindreading, hope it's okay for Rokuro to feel something! If not just LMK, and if you'd like to clarify what it is he feels I'd be happy to work with it :)]

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

((yep that's fine! I'll try to include that stuff in the narration for you :3 ))

Marc is currently nowhere near the front of their shared mindspace, and Jake is as buried as always, but the splits are still there, and Steven is always aware that he's not alone in his own head. He's not thinking about it, right now, but the awareness is still there.

He brightens with obvious curiosity, though, as Rokuro continues. "Oh! You got your chip stripped? I kept mine, I mean, I don't have any powers outside of the Tian magic stuff, so I thought being able to be a little sneaky might be useful. That might be what you're sensing, too, the whole. Tian magic thing. We're supposed to harness that, but if we don't want to completely drain ourselves for big spells, or if we need something to focus with, we use ingredients."

[noisecomplaint]

"I was not comfortable with the prospect of being bound by the 'chip'." Of which Rokuro still assumes was a chip of cursed stone, bone, or something other material. He knows a lot about the spirit world and the divine, and... basically nothing about computers.

Born several hundred years before electricity was invented, Rokuro's understanding of technology is a work in progress. At least he's past thinking the camera in his tablet is attempting to steal his soul?

"It is best to start small. I have been training my power since childhood, and still find myself exhausted in the midst of learning these spells. They are not my preference in terms of combat or practical use, but one should be of passable skill with every weapon in their arsenal." A raised brow at Marc, "You appear to have a great many more than the average recruit I have encountered."

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

"Oh, not that many, surely," Steven laughs, a little embarrassed. "I can do three of the cantrips reliably, and two of the ones they call first level? I don't know, it's a pretty arbitrary spell system, I think it has something to do with how much energy it takes to cast something. But that's hard to measure, right? So I'm not sure how they decided to split it up at each level, really. Probably trial and error, or maybe some kind of metric I don't know about yet."

Yes, that was a bit of a ramble. Sorry, Rokuro. At least he wraps it up with, "So are you Tian, too? Since you're poking around at the magic stuff. Though if you have your own powers, I guess you might not need it."

IV

[scarabwings]

Layla's eyeing the tower, calculating distance and angle for perhaps the dozenth time. She's working on memory for the terrain, not about to stick her neck out before it's time, but that's fine, that's familiar. It's more exposed than she likes, but it's not the first time she's had to deal with physical infiltration under less than ideal circumstances.

At least it isn't raining, and there are no dogs.

She glances towards Marc when he addresses her, and smiles, a quick flash of assurance. "Ready," she says. "See you on the other side."

If there is, perhaps, something just a little bit strained in her smile, in her voice, surely it's just the fact that they're dealing with still-unfamiliar enemies with unpredictable powers. Surely.

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

This is more exposed than they're used to working, the two of them, but just the fact that it's Layla handling the other half of this job makes it feel more comfortable. Marc knows exactly what to expect out of Layla, with the exception of just how far she can stretch her new object-moving ability, but even then-- that can only be a benefit, right? Like the new spell Steven worked out to protect them both. Not to be relied on, but still possibly an edge the Sylphids don't have.

So his answering smile is encouraging, and warm. He gives her shoulder a little squeeze, then unholsters his guns. "I'll be watching you the whole way, baby." He does peek out, then says urgently, "Go!" The timing is best right now, and as soon as she runs, he'll be right behind her, angling out from her and firing to draw the guards' attention.

[scarabwings]

She's off like a shot, keeping fast and low, as difficult a target as she can be with no cover. She counts off the distance in her head, braced for the sound of gunfire so that she doesn't falter when she hears it behind her.

Doesn't falter when she hears it ahead of her, either, though her heart squeezes in her chest, and it's an effort of will not to look back to make sure that Marc isn't hit, isn't-

Get to the tower. Pen them in. Set the charges. Minimize the risks by completing the mission, as quick and efficient as she can.

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

That's what the body armor and magic spells are for. He'll be fine. Probably.

And if he's not, Steven's been studying healing spells, too.

He takes out two of the Sylphid guards in the nearest bunch before they even realize something's happening. The gunfire she hears is aimed at him, but he's already ducked behind one of the supply trucks, which was why he went at this angle to begin with.

Before anyone can look for an alternate source of trouble, he leans out to fire again, catching one in the side but not killing him.

[scarabwings]

Logically, she knows that. Emotionally...it's going to take some time.

Ahead, she sees the door of one of the latrines set up for the Sylphid tasked with assembling and guarding the sensor tower crack open. Not wanting to open fire and alert the rest of the guards to her presence so early, she summons her will and slams it shut, to the muffled cry of surprise of the Sylphid inside. Her steps falter a moment at the split in her attention, but this task, at least, is simple enough that she's able to recover.

[fightingevilbymoonknight]

Since a sliver of his attention is on her, he notes the falter, and hastily aims that way-- but she seems okay. No trouble. Not yet, anyway.

He has to duck down at a hail of bullets at him, but one bounces off the mage armor spell-- which cracks, but doesn't shatter-- and the rest hit the truck. "You guys really can't aim for shit!" he calls, before firing blindly in their direction without actually looking.

He doesn't hit any of them. Obviously.