multiversallogs | i am just a man not superhuman [OPEN]

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i am just a man not superhuman [OPEN]

Who: Ozymandias and You
What: There's a masked hero out doing what masked heroes do.
Where: the neighborhoods around city center
When: Misdi - Veerdi evenings and into the night
Notes: Please suspend your disbelief and pretend a mask around the eyes is a really great disguise.
Warnings: Possible minor violence against NPC baddies?

Adrian refuses to believe that's no meaning in the fact that his costume came to Baedal with him. Just as he refuses to believe that the only good use for it is to protect him when fighting off the occasional invasion of mysterious creatures. When the world back home is right, he intends to put the mask on again, knows he won't be the only one who does. So in the meantime, there's no excuse not to get back into practice again while he's here.

There may not be any man-eating crows or giant ants roaming the streets tonight, but that doesn't mean there are no monsters to be found. Humans -- and humanoids (he's still rather coming to terms with that) -- are perfectly capable of doing evil all by themselves. And that's where Ozymandias comes in.

Tonight he's out in the streets of the central city, keeping a reasonable distance from his home in Brock Marsh just to be extra careful with his identity. So far he's stopped a mugging in progress and left an unconscious thief locked inside the business he was trying to rob. It's not a busy night, but it feels nice to be protecting a city again.

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Aimery was out enjoying a night off, having spent his first paycheck on a somewhat more casual outfit than his usual suits then worn it out socializing and drinking. He managed to do the latter in moderation, but even his mild inebriation made finding his way back to Brock Marsh difficult; he regretted heading back to a bar he'd found near Mog Hill and knew he should have picked a place closer to 'home'.

Alone, tipsy, and as defenseless-looking as he was, Aimery appeared a perfect target for a trio of muggers when he happened down the wrong street. He heard their shout as they came up behind him, but he dismissed it as a group of drunks right up until he was shoved face-first against a brick wall. He yelped and twisted away, stumbling to the ground with one hand covering his now bloody nose, glaring up at them. Fear hadn't set in yet, he was still warmed from the liquor and knowledge that he could just choose to walk away made him smart off to them. "Thanks."

"No problem," one of them barked back at him before giving him a hard kick in the ribs. A kick that somehow landed despite his attempt to choose otherwise. That was when Aimery got scared- somehow, it wasn't working.

There is no second kick to follow the first. Adrian wasn't close enough to stop things before they started, but he's there in the thick of it now, and sends the active attacker to the pavement, Adrian's foot connecting with the man's knee with an audible crack. The average mugger would abandon the game at this point, but Baedal isn't an average city and it's certain the men have seen stranger things. They move forward to bring the fight to Adrian, ignoring Aimery and their injured fellow for the moment.

They never have the chance to get their hands on Adrian. His fighting style is one designed to keep his foes at a distance, half martial arts and half gymnastics, and every blow that lands is one that breaks bones or leaves deep painful bruises.

He hadn't seen the masked man coming up, so that crack and the sudden scream of his attacker was just as much a surprise to Aimery as it was to the muggers. As they refocused, he scrambled backwards, trying to get away from the fight, until the man on the ground grabbed at his foot. Aimery's kicking was much less graceful than Adrian's fighting, but his flailing was sufficient to kick the guy in the face with enough force to make him reconsider, so he at least managed to get himself free.

It was a very short-lived fight. Two of the men were on the ground —one curled in a ball and moaning softly, the other unconscious— while the third abandoned his companions and made a run for it. Aimery watched him go, then stared at his rescuer for a few good seconds before pulling himself to his feet and tentatively calling out, "Thank you."

Aimery was slightly more concerned with accidentally becoming Adrian's next target than the assholes on the ground or the blood on his face.

It's never a bad PR move to let one thug get away -- gossip spreads fast in that crowd. Adrian watches to make sure the man really is leaving then turns his attention to Aimery, still carefully remaining aware in case the thug was just running to grab reinforcements.

With a small smile that masks the cold anger inside (Adrian Veidt does not take well to people interfering with his business, no matter how unintentional it might be), he offers a hand to assist Aimery if he needs it.

"You're welcome," he answers softly. There's nothing worse for revealing a secret identity than too much chatter, so he tends to keep the speech to a minimum when in costume. The nice thing about the costume, though, is that it tends to draw attention from the tell-tale details that might otherwise give him away.

There was a moment's hesitation before he took the offered hand, then as soon as he was on his feet he let go and leaned one shoulder against the wall for support instead. Adrian probably didn't even need the mask to keep his identity secret from Aimery; he still wasn't all that familiar with his voice and he was definitely not looking at his face. Instead, he stared at the oddly detailed costume while he swiped at his face with the back of his hand in an attempt to disguise his still fairly obvious boggling. His talent was working again—it must've been something the man who ran away had or did that stopped it— and in a split second Aimery's clothes and face were perfectly blood-free. The ground at his feet, not so much.

"That was... very impressive. I suppose I should've brought my sword out with me tonight," he said with a nervous laugh. Between shock, alcohol, and the popular concept of theatrical vigilantes being several hundred years younger than he (costumed bandits, on the other hand...), Aimery had no idea what to say or even what to do. Was he supposed to pay him? Call for the watch? Offer to clean his armor for him?

Adrian's brows are hidden under the mask, so the way one of them quirks up at the sudden disappearance of any sign of an attack on Aimery's person is hidden. He'll be keeping a closer eye on the man in future, until he can find the right opportunity to ask him about it.

"It isn't a bad idea," he agrees, to the remark about the sword. It's obvious Aimery has never encountered a masked hero before -- if he had, he wouldn't be eying Adrian like he's half expecting another attack. It's a blow to the ego, but Adrian's getting used to the damage Baedal can do to one's pride. "Are you far from home?"

Blood still seeped from Aimery's nose, but rather than flowing down his face it seemed to drip right through to the ground, as if the rest of him wasn't there. He wasn't concerned about letting the masked man see him do it- who was he going to tell? What would he say? 'Yes, I was out in my anatomically correct hero costume and brutalized several men with my bare fists, but the strange thing was some guy didn't bleed properly'?

"No it's... not too far," answered Aimery, knitting his brows and frowning slightly as he felt at his side, then winced hard. He'd have a bruise for a week or two, but it didn't feel as if anything was broken. He'd been lucky. "And thanks to your help, I'll be able to make it there fine."

He offered him a little smile to show he was appreciative, then pursed his lips and double checked, "Brock Marsh is that way, isn't it?"

Adrian makes note of that wince as well, adding it to the list of things to make sure Lex knows to insist on getting checked out (at least, lacking the presence of his fellow Watchmen, he has the advantage of someone in Baedal who is already aware of his status as a mask). He doesn't hide the fact that he's aware of Aimery's injuries either, but doesn't make any move toward assisting the man in any way. Ozymandias has done his part, Aimery is lucid and mobile, and there's no advantage to taking the Good Samaritan thing too far.

"Yes, it is. I'll watch you into the neighborhood, to be sure you get there safely."

"Oh I, thank you, but I don't think that's necessary," he assured him, holding up one hand in protest. It didn't seem like he was working with the muggers —unless he was terrible to his partners— but the last thing he needed to do was accidentally show a violent man in a costume where he lived. He doubted his bosses would appreciate that.

"I'm fine, really. I'm not likely to be attacked again tonight, statistically anyway, and all this was..." he glanced at the men on the ground, then pursed his lips a bit and looked back at Adrian, "rather sobering."

As a general rule, Aimery's bosses would be highly annoyed if he brought home a costumed ruffian, even by accident, yes. Avoiding doing so is an excellent policy.

Of course it doesn't really matter in this instance, and even if Aimery weren't headed right back to his own home, Adrian will still keep an eye on his progress. The man doesn't need to be aware of that, however. "Keep to the main streets, where there's good lighting," he replies, with a nod that suggests he intends to go along with Aimery's refusal of further help.

"Of course, I'll be careful." Aimery pretended not to notice that the street they were on was not, in fact, a main one with good lighting, because that might ruin the whole 'I'll be careful' thing and imply he'd wander back into danger again. "Thank you again, I-"

"Fucking assholes..." One of the men on the ground had realized they were standing about chatting, and had found his voice. Aimery looked over at him, frowned (though not in sympathy), then raised an eyebrow at Adrian. "Should... should I call the Militia for them or...? I assume you wouldn't want to..."

Because of the mask. But maybe his hero wasn't hiding his identity and instead had some kind of eye socket condition that required covering.

A well-placed kick to the solar plexus should take care of any name-calling for the moment. Adrian shakes his head at the offer, although he does appreciate it. Having the Militia take an official report would be useful in getting word of Ozymandias out into the city, but he'd rather see Aimery get home and take care of his injuries. The thugs will probably paint a more a exaggerated picture anyway.

"You go on, I'll make an anonymous tip." Hopefully that will be enough to reassure Aimery that he isn't about to be followed home. (Technically.)

That time he did wince a little in sympathy for the poor fellow, but his ribs hurt so he wasn't too sympathetic. Hopefully he wasn't about to leave him to get eaten or further abused but, hey, he was a violent thug. That was entirely different from Aimery's painless picpocketry. They probably deserved what they got.

He nodded at Adrian's words, paused, opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it again and just waved to him before turning around and walking away. Aimery made it a few steps before he turned around and called, "That's a very nice suit, by the way. Goodnight."

Last ditch compliment in case he was considering jumping him or something. It took a good bit of effort for Aimery to keep his speed to a casual powerwalk instead of an ungraceful/ungrateful fleeing.

Lex has his own outings, though none involve such heroics. He returns home quite late and arrives after Adrian. It's been a long week and letting off a bit of steam with some co-workers was a welcome stress reliever.

He's been drinking, but not enough to render him tipsy or sloppy. What effect is does have is that Lex is now more curious than ever. He is about to retire for the night and on his way up the stairs he sees Adrian pass - in full costume.

"Looks like you had quite the evening as well."

Adrian really is going to have to see about better arrangements regarding middle-of-the-night access to the building, if he's going to avoid being caught out like this. Maybe storing the costume in the basement, changing down there where he's less likely to run across the other residents.

Thankfully it's Lex, who already knows about the costume, and Adrian gestures toward his half of the top floor suites, expecting to be followed. "I did, although it's not quite the same with no masked villains or organized gangs to fight. It's possible I simply haven't looked in the right places yet, though." He peels off his gloves and lays them aside, the mask and circlet following.

Lex catches the gesture and follows, raising an eyebrow at being beckoned like that. He's more than willing to talk to Adrian, and would have continued anyway.

He watches the pieces of the costume be removed. They're still new enough to be a curiosity, but familiar enough for him to have no temptation to stare. "Any city has its unsavory parts. This one probably has people smart enough to not travel in noticeable packs." He steps closer to the discarded gloves. "I did notice you stopped certain muggers earlier in the week."

Sooner or later, either Lex will get used to Adrian absently acting like everyone around him is just waiting for his direction, or Adrian will recognize that Lex is not one of those people and become a little bit more self-aware.

The gauntlets follow next, all of the easiest pieces now removed, and as he raises his hands to unfasten the collar that sits over his shoulders and holds the cape in place, Adrian turns his head to look at Lex. "It seems that way, but then again I'm also just learning the city myself. Given more time, I'm sure I'll find where the truly despicable residents congregate." A small smile turns up the corners of his mouth. "Oh? And how did you happen across that information?"

Lex gives Adrian a wry look with something that threatens to be a smile. "Something about a butler with a broken nose and purple bandage speaks volumes."

Reaching down, Lex picks up a single glove, not presuming to wear it, but turning it over in his hands and running his fingers across the details. The dark color of the gloves next to Lex's skin make the scarring on his hand more visible than ever. "Is this going to be a regular thing?"

Adrian turns away as the smile threatens to deepen and lifts the collar off, draping the cape carefully over a chair until he can inspect it for damage. It's seriously inconvenient to have to clean the damn thing himself, but he's not ready to let anyone else in on the secret just yet.

"I had nothing to do with his choice of bandage colors." He glances over to Lex again, serious for a moment. "His ribs were bruised at the very least as well. I doubt he'll say anything so I thought you should know." So Lex can keep an eye out, possibly find a reason to point Aimery in the direction of a doctor if he needs one.

The glove inspection makes Adrian stop and really take in Lex's curiosity, makes him realize the man is genuinely interested and would probably make a good ally in this side of Adrian's 'business' as well. "Not as regular as it once was. Back home I'm actually retired, have been for years. I'm not sure why the suit accompanied me here, but since it did, I thought I'd put it to good use." And to be honest, he misses that life, a fact that probably shows in the nostalgic tone of his voice.

Edited 2011-08-30 20:49 (UTC)

"I'll make certain that he's cared for," Lex replies, either medically, or has enough assistance at home to mend properly.

He sets down the glove and picks up the mask, holding it in both hands and imagining what it would be like to constantly hide his face. "I can't imagine a better use than what you are doing now. The suit was brought here because it's who you are, Mr. Veidt. It seems as though items which accompany a person here are fundamental to who they are. It sounds so simplistic to say in so many words, but you're a hero. That isn't a quality that vanishes due to retirement."

Lex's words strike something deep in Adrian, and he's still for a very long moment, watching as the other man inspects the pieces of his costume. He is a hero -- not was -- and would still be if society's failure to understand its own needs had not intervened.

"Don't you think it's time you started calling me Adrian?"

He moves away then, not precisely lost in thought but much more thoughtful, as he slowly removes the rest of the body armor, piece by piece. "Retirement from the masked hero business has suited me well enough. I saw it coming early on, was able to focus my plans in other directions. The work I was capable of as Ozymandias was never going to be enough anyway, not for the vision I have, but it was a very necessary beginning. Everything I have built to this point, every step I've taken toward creating something that will truly benefit the world, had its origins in violence, and it seems that if I'm to build something of any value here then I'll have to revisit those origins. 'How great are the dangers I face to win a good name in Baedal.'"

Instinct tells Lex to drop the mask, but instead his grip grows more secure. This is not something to discard carelessly, whatever the intent. Instead he sets down the mask gently as if putting it on display and lifts his chin, standing straight and placing himself on the same internal platform as the declared hero.

"It seems as if your origins are my constant present. Everything that's mine, everything I've had to maintain I've had to fight for. While I'm the heir to my father's empire, I'm also a threat. He's only one obstacle, but definitely the largest, and no corporate titan takes kindly to a newcomer. My life is a constant game of staking my claim in the larger world or breaking under its weight along with the rest of the rubble. I'm going to change the world, Adrian, either here or back home because I'm certainly not ever going to break."

He breaks eye contact long enough to look down and pick up the circlet, once again finding Adrian's face under a determined gaze. "'There is nothing impossible to him who will try.'"

Edited 2011-08-30 22:15 (UTC)

It feels as though something shifts, notches into place, and Adrian finds himself watching Lex intently as he speaks. Since setting out into the world to make his own fortune, Adrian has seen himself as walking his path -- Alexander the Great's path -- alone. The Watchmen shared a common interest in a small scale, but no living person ever came close to comprehending the grand vision Adrian was always reaching toward. He never imagined any of them could.

Nodding slowly, he steps toward Lex and takes the circlet in his hands, although he doesn't remove it from the other man's grip.

"Are you a sheep, Alexander Luthor? Or are you a lion?"

Lex runs his thumb against the smooth upper edge of the circlet. This moment can't be coincidence. Adrian has never addressed Lex by his first name, much less the full name rather than the nickname everyone else adopts. It's fitting that this should be the initial use and Lex takes a step forward as if to claim his birthright with circlet still in both hands.

He looks to Adrian with a focused but calm expression, an intensity unmistakable through blue eyes. "I'm a leader, Adrian Veidt. Sheep's clothing doesn't become a lion."

There's a slight tilt of the head that leaves no room for argument. This is a completely new world, but Lex knows that his place in it is at the top.

Edited 2011-08-31 09:55 (UTC)

Adrian has plenty of use for sheep in his plans, but not as partners in them, and he's come to realize that if he's to deal with Lex at all it has to be on equal footing. More than that, though, he can see where a partnership with a man like this can carry benefits he's going to need if he wants to achieve the same goals here that he put in place for himself at home. So Lex's response is answered with a slow nod, and the slightest hint of a smile.

"Join your vision with mine. Why should we compete when we can achieve even greater things side by side?"

He finally releases the circlet, slowly letting his hands drift away. The left, both dominant and physically scarred reaches for Adrian's hand and clasps the outside. "This belongs to you, Ozymandias."

When he looks at Adrian, something else falls into place with Lex as well. What they have is a partnership strong enough to endure the largest of complications. Lex keeps their eye contact as he speaks. His determination is there, and Lex also regards Adrian with a significance he felt certain was misplaced until now. "There's none I'd rather share a vision with. There will be no choice but to look upon our works."

Adrian feels a strong sensation of satisfaction, at being right about his assessment of Lex, even from their very first meeting, and at his decision to make a rare move in allowing someone else to walk shoulder to shoulder with him on his path to greatness. There's never been a single doubt in his mind that he would achieve everything he's ever planned for, but now there's an unexpected rush of renewed excitement about those plans.

He takes the full weight of the circlet in his grasp but doesn't pull it away, instead accepting the grip of Lex's hand over his, something more intimate and more significant than a mere handshake. "I look as much forward the day when you stand triumphant before the world, Alexander, as I do to the moment when I can finally reveal my great gift for mankind."

Lex pulls his hands away and with it gives a slight push of the circlet in Adrian's direction. It's his own crown to wear, the king of kings. He gives a smile and serene nod in acknowledgement. There's nothing more to say of that matter, and he doesn't want to mar it with unnecessary words.

"I'll leave you to finish up for the night." He's not sorry he interrupted. "Goodnight Adrian." Saying the man's first name aloud still feels rare and unused, but not at all uncomfortable. Lex turns away and heads to his own penthouse. There's much to think about before drifting off to sleep.

Perched on a store stoop, there's a young boy (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v149/hilohello/Wyatt%20Smith%20in%20The%20Pledge/20.png) whittling a stick and just watching the world go by. He seems somewhat interested in what Ozymandias is doing, but he's not about to approach some sort of masked whatever and ask him anything. Perhaps he saw the stranger stop a mugging? Perhaps he saw him lock up a thief?

Normally Adrian doesn't spend much (any) time around children, but he's aware of the impact the image of a masked hero can have on them. He has, after all, built an empire off the sales of those images.

So he doesn't approach, not wanting to appear threatening, but he does give the child a slight nod and a very small smile.

He waves with the wooden spoon and then, pausing, picks up his CiD and waves that. A picture? Please?

A picture? Yes. Yes absolutely Adrian will pose for a picture. The smile deepens a little and he nods, standing straight and regal, arms crossed and chin raised high, cape billowing slightly as it settles behind him.

Oh, wonderful! He smiles brightly and snaps a couple of photos before waving again and running off.

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i am just a man not superhuman [OPEN]

yes i set this up so i could use this icon, what of it

:D

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late veerdi night

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