multiversallogs | fall in line or release the glitch

Entry tags:

fall in line or release the glitch

Who: Wolfgang and Will, Shrieky, Olivia Dunham (prime), Stephanie Brown, open
What: Everyone's going to pick daisies and go on a picnic in the woods!
Where: Wherever is convenient! He's mostly in the southeast part of the city, but can be anywhere.
When: Various days over the second week of the siege.
Notes: If you want a thread starter ping me and I will make you one :3 or... idk just tag in somewhere random.
Warnings: Violence, mild horrors (like, relatively, yes), also some vague discussion of mental illness stuff in the OP.

After his Awakening, he sleeps.

When he wakes up, he's disoriented -- the room is unfamiliar, he's lying on a cot in a safehouse in Mog Hill, which someone explains to him when he asks. He has mercifully been left alone most of the time, except for someone who would come to check to make sure he hadn't actually died. That makes him pause and ask how long he was out.

Three days. He slept for three days. That's three days of being utterly useless and vulnerable, with no one knowing where he is, he doesn't know where he is -- three days of Baedal going to Hell.

Three days of dreamless sleep.

He wept. He's too embarrassed to ever admit it, and he thankfully held it together until he was alone, but he did. Whether it was out of frustration, or anger, or fear, or relief, he's still not sure. Too much emotion all at once when he's spent the last three years buried under the fog his medication produces in him -- blunted affect is a side effect of much of them. He doesn't typically feel much of anything, and he'll continue to not feel much of anything as soon as he can get back on them.

One of the women later finds him hunched over a table, making small, hysterical noises. There's a glass of wine and a jug of water on the table; she can't tell if he's laughing or crying. When she asks what happened, he glances at the glass and says in a voice like a dull razor, "Well, it's been done."

After that, they gently suggest he stay away from sharp objects.

Still, he refuses to have a mental breakdown in the middle of a citywide crisis -- if he's going to indulge (which he very well might) it will have to be at a more convenient time. Compartmentalization it is.

Wolfgang puts himself to work immediately. He can be useful. He has combat experience, specialized training. He has magic, apparently, although he hasn't really felt out the limits of what he can do (he is very afraid that the answer may be everything), there are a few things that come in immediately useful. It is very strange to think of himself as telepathic, but that's the word they use. He can listen for danger and hear people in need of help all without even stepping outside. He can imprint simple but strong impulses in the walls of the building itself, calm the hysterical, reduce the pain of the injured. Boil water, grow food, keep the light and heat on when the power occasionally goes out. So many useful little things. They don't always work the way he intends -- he finds, with great chagrin, that magic never quite wants to do what he wants it to do -- but it's serviceable.

Mostly, he looks after the children. They like him, especially the very young ones who aren't quite grown enough to understand what's going on -- he keeps them calm and entertained and out of their parents' hair for a while. He runs into a family he used to sit for in Bonetown and the little girl runs up, punches him in the leg, shouts "That's for missing my recital!" and stomps off to a corner to pout. He spends the next half hour sitting through an extremely dramatic reenactment of her big solo, interjecting with the appropriate amount of reverent awe for her skill and wit, while her mother finally gets a few private moments in the bathroom. Her eyes are red when she comes out; he doesn't mention it.

As the infestation goes on, though, it becomes clear to him that he can't stay here the entire time.

Or rather, that he won't.

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She doesn't hesitate here, either, although it takes her a couple of seconds to jump down so she can get a good shot, but then she's fired twice at the whistling spider, taking it out.

This puts her in close range of the final one, and it takes a lunge at her that she dives out of the way of, rolling as she lands to come up on one knee and facing the spider. She fires once, then twice, because two shots seem to be the most effective.

Guns are really starting to grow on Steph. Why didn't she start using them sooner? It makes life so much easier to not have to constantly dive into close quarters combat.

The spider she shoots rattles and flails its legs, then abruptly stops moving at the second shot, as if someone flipped its off switch. Wolfgang waits until there's no more sound of fighting before cautiously emerging, waiting, but nothing more comes out. The pattern spiders are unmoving, but he's not going to leave anything to chance in a city that's so much spirit as it is material -- standing equidistant between the two on the ground, he reaches into the air and starts tugging at something invisible. As he does so, one by one, all three start to rapidly decay, like watching one of those time-sped nature films of animals rotting. He won't leave bodies for anyone to reanimate.

He gives the webs a very wide berth, and stands there looking at them and wondering how to get rid of them. Fire? But he doesn't want it to spread to the buildings nearby and his control isn't fine-tuned enough to be sure it won't. He doesn't have the knowledge to unmake them and he doesn't want to touch them directly. Not actually sure if he can.

He glances east, upward, a hand over his eyes to block out the sun, in the direction the shots came from. He can see her from here, although he's more than a little weirded out by the costume. Is she a giant bat?

But that's Baedal for you.

The gesture he makes acknowledges her, but he's not going to shout in case anything is around to hear it.

She watches him destroy the spiders with curiousity and a tiny bit of annoyance that she knows is unnecessary, but it's sparked by the fact that apparently everyone in Baedal is secretly magic. Steph feels so fucking outclassed right now that she wants to punch something just to prove she's not useless.

She doesn't let it affect her outwardly though, because it's not really directed at Wolfgang so much as the situation in general. She takes his gesture of acknowledgement as a sign to approach and does so, her eyes visible - there's no point having her lenses down during the day - and obviously she's trying to take in the entire scene, including him.

"Any idea what those things were?" it doesn't feel appropriate to smile, but she tries to look as friendly as possible regardless of that.

If it helps at all, Wolfgang was equally annoyed to find out he is secretly magic. This shit sucks.

"The spiders? They're Umbrood." He worries his bottom lip, glancing at their desiccated remains. "Spirit beings. They spin webs of, um..." He gestures vaguely with his hands, not sure how to word it, "Sort of anti-magic. It traps you, then sort of... drains your power, then they kill you. They shouldn't be able to exist in the material realm, but... Then again, they shouldn't be targeting Sleepers, either."

He shakes his head, knowing there's no sense in worrying about what should be impossible in Baedal, and gestures at the webs. "I need to get rid of these, but I can't touch them. I don't know if it's safe for Sleepers -- I mean, not-mages -- to touch, either."

"Oh, sounds fun," said in a complete dead pan and with a glare at the spiders. Why couldn't they stay in their non-material ream and not try to kill people she likes. Including herself.

She regards the webs curiously, "Do they have to contact skin to work?" She accompanies the question with a gesture at herself, because if the answer is no she can probably clear out the webs without any trouble.

To be honest, if the answer is maybe she'll probably give it a try anywah. Steph makes bad life decisions sometimes.

"I don't know. I've only ever seen them before in the Umbra, where, um... it's... all sort of mystical woo-woo stuff." That's a technical term. Thank God this jerk is one of the most promising mages of his generation.

Wolfgang chooses not to add that they sometimes also shoot lightning.

He pauses, considering whether letting her try touching them is a good idea. (It's not.) "You don't use magic, right?"

That is actualy ressuring, in an odd way, because it makes her feel less overwhelmed by the whole situation if Wolfgang is using nonsense words to describe the situation.

"Nope," not even a little bit, although she's starting to wish she could, in a vague way, just so she'd have better ways of dealing with monsters, "Should I try to touch them?"

"Ah..." He thinks about it, gnawing at the inside of his cheek, but he's pretty sure it should be okay. They're webs of static reality, and they might be material but they still feel strongly to him as if they're intended to ensnare people who manipulate reality, whether that's through magic or something else. A Sleeper shouldn't be affected because they already exist within the parameters of that reality. And it would be nice to know if Sleepers can touch them, in case there are more. "Yes, try."

Anyway he figures if something happens he can just try ... something. Anything. He still hasn't even begun testing the limits of what he can do.

"If it kills me, tell Babs I'm really fucking sorry," she manages to make that sound like both a joke and something that's really important to her. Babs is gonna be so pissed off if Steph gets killed by spider webs.

She takes a deep breath and reaches out to just touch her fingers to the webs, only a light touch, in case she has to pull back.

Wolfgang watches this with great apprehension because he really doesn't want her to get hurt, and he feels (irrationally) responsible for the spiders being in Baedal, even knowing that he has nothing to do with it. It's something he recognises from home, it might be something from his home. So he's half-ready to do something should they affect her negatively, even if he's not sure what, exactly, he intends to do.

Long pause. Nothing continues to happen.

"Well. Now I feel very silly."

After a moment of nothing, Steph laughs, partly at their unecessary worry and partly in relief, "If it helps, so do I."

She pulls down the webs she can reach with her hands, and then extends her bo staff to twirl up the rest. By the time she's done, there's a pile of webs gathered at her feet, all of them brushed off her staff, which she puts away.

"Should I burn them?" She looks up to Wolfgang for confirmation; he seems to know a lot about these things.

Wolfgang goes to retrieve his weapon while she does that, hefting that metal bat the way one would expect of someone carrying around a weapon too heavy for them. There's blood all over the tip of it, the barbarism of which is great in contrast with his Barbie face. "Yes, that's best, I think -- I'd try, but um. I'm not sure how they'd react." And he would rather not find that trying to use magic on them makes it go haywire and, say, produces a towering inferno or something.

Plus using magic to do things like make fire or lightning makes him nervous. His spells will pretty often affect a wider range than he intended, or go off at random -- not great when they're specifically meant to do something destructive.

"Thank you, by the way, ah -- I don't think I could have taken three of them." One, maybe, but not three at once.

"I'd rather them not explode or something," she crouches down and pulls a lighter and a small bottle of lighter fluid from her belt. A small amount of the fluid gets poured onto the webs, then she sets it alight and steps back. Everything gets slipped back into the pockets of her utility belt.

"It's no problem, this is kind of my job," if only she got paid for it, "Anyway, you helped." There's a bit of unspoken question there, but she won't actually ask abotu the magic because it isn't any of her business.

Wolfgang's sense of relief when they burn is visibly palpable -- the strange tugging sensation he felt looking at them, like water circling down a drain, stops abruptly. He feels a lot better knowing they won't just be lying around for someone to stumble into.

"Do you get paid for this?" he asks, apparently on the same track with that line of thought; if she doesn't, she ought to. He's eyeing her gun. "I don't suppose someone's out there handing those out." He can dream, okay.

(...Actually, maybe he'll skip the dreaming. He'd rather not wake up and discover he is also secretly an alien or something.)

Steph laughs, "God no, my life would be a lot easier if I did." Although she'd probably feel guilty about it, not that guilt makes sense. People in the army get paid to protect people, so do cops, but somehow accepting a wage for being a vigilante seems odd.

"I had to break into someone's lab and pay then 45 marks for this," Sorry about that, Rex. She gives Wolfgang an appraising look, "It doesn't really seem like you need a weapon."

"Well, someone ought to start up a fund." They can call it the Buy Superheroes Sandwiches fund, or something.

He looks down at himself, surprised, because in his opinion he's doing pretty shit at this... but then again, he is still alive. "Hitting things in the head is usually more reliable." That's really something he would rather know in theory and not practice, thanks Baedal. "And the, um..." He wiggles his fingers, apparently indicating magic, because he is a super dignified wizard, "thingy is new."

"Some of 'em have... sponsors," That's sort of a word for it, right? Bruce Wayne publically supports the Justice League, and she remember Tim talking about how the Outsiders used to have employers, "But there's not a huge demand for a kid running around dressed like a bat." She might be selling herself a little short, but the self-deprecation isn't really serious; it's just an automatic thing these days.

"Do you think this whole world-falling-apart stuff had anything to do with it?" Steph would make silly hand gestures too, if she randomly discovered she was magic one day.

'Sponsors' makes it sound a bit more like a sugar daddy relationship, but maybe that's just his weird mind. Pause. He eyes her costume. "Can I ask about that, by the way, or is it too weird?" Boldly going where even Martel won't, evidently.

As far as his magic... he frowns and shrugs. "Maybe." It was almost certainly the final push for his Awakening, but he doesn't even want to think how long this has been building.

Please don't say that outloud, Wolfgang, Steph would have to bleach her brain. But she just shrugs, "Sure, what exactly do you wanna know? Although I might have to be vague on some details. The mask is for a reason." It's been weird to get used to people having no idea what a superhero is, but she's working on it.

"It came at a good time. I mean, as good as any time can be to wake up one day and have powers," At least now he's got a way to fight against the monsters that keep falling into Baedal.

"Why a bat?" Really, that's what you're going to focus on? Honey. As far as weird things go, superheroes are way down at the bottom of his list right now -- they only exist where he's from in movies and comic books, but the idea makes more sense than, say, the presence of enormous flesh-eating, magic-casting dragons. Or whatever else is here right now.

"They'd be more convenient if they came with an instruction manual." Well, now he just sounds grumpy. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, stops and makes a face when his hand comes away sticky. Welcome to impractical hair problems.

"They're scary," Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot, or so she's heard, "I'm the third Batgirl, so I didn't come up with the name or the emblem. Or the ears." She points to the ears, her expression amused because seriously. Those ears.

"You should talk to someone when this all blows over, there are plenty of people around who might know a little about what you can do," the first person she thinks of is Martel; he always seems to know what he's doing. She looks sympathetic in response to his hair situation, "You should braid it, if you're gonna be running around fighting monsters."

Says the girl with her hair sticking out the back of her cowl -- although at least it's away from her face. And she does braid it when things get really serious.

"Fair enough," he says, giving the costume a considering look. The ears, after all, are pretty silly, but without them she'd look less like a bat and more like a chick with a cape. "It probably helps, um, when it's not the middle of the day."

It's a nice day. Or it would be, if it weren't for all the horrible death.

"Mm." He fully plans on ignoring all this and pretending it doesn't exist as soon as this invasion crap blows over. Denial is fun! "I keep losing hair ties, I swear," he says as he wipes his hands off on his pants. Pretty much everything he wears is ruined by the end of the day anyway; Baedal's dry cleaning businesses are going to be having a very good month if they all survive this.

"Yeah, it's designed for night time and creeping in the shadows and stuff. I always feel a bit silly running around in this get up during the day," And in a place where people apparently think it's a sex thing. At least no one's said that out loud to her, although she's gotten a lot of odd looks. Thank god she doesn't have a costume like Black Canary's, or Starfire's.

"Here," Steph fishes in one of the pouches on her belt and pulls out a little ball of hair elastics. She takes one off and offers it to Wolfgang, "I'm seriously considering just shaving all mine off so I don't have to worry aout it." This is so untrue, and probably a bit of a terrible joke, but that's how Steph rolls.

In fairness, the bondage fetish gear aspect is probably also not Steph's fault, Bruce. You weirdo. He shrugs. "If it works, it works."

He can think of a couple reasons why someone might not want their face associated with this line of work.

Wolfgang smiles genuinely -- all teeth -- as he takes it. "Oh, thank you!" His hair takes a bit of wrangling to get pulled all the way out of his face -- it's thin, it just. Has a mind of its own. "I can't say I haven't had the same thought. But now that would just be quitting." You heard it here first, people, the real reason he refuses to cut it anymore is spite.

"It worked back home. My luck varies here," like don't fuck with me. Steph really misses that aspect, although she misses the hope she inspired even more. Batman is about being scary, and Steph can work that line too, but she'll always smile for civilians and stick around to chat with kids, if she has the time.

That gets another laugh, because of course he keeps it long out of spite; Steph definitely approves, "When I started out, I tried to keep all my hair under my mask, but it was terrible. Eventually I had to cut a hole in the back to let my ponytail out."

fall in line or release the glitch

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