heyfreemagic | Entries tagged with *open

[With a last pulse of bright pink magic, a Nox in the form of a cat dissipates into mist and then into nothing.]

[The only good thing about the expanse of cracked pavement and litter that is the empty lot is the sheer isolation, which makes it great for practicing using his healing magic and turning it to more offense-oriented uses.]

[Every now and then, a Nox will skulk, crawl, or fly out of the subway entrance and into the lot, like the slowest bee in the worst hive investigating a particularly obnoxious child that keeps throwing pebbles. Aaron blasts them all to wispy bits.]

Take that!

fearmylaserface

[Well, Epsilon was trying to get out. He'd been doing as much every now and then. Today, he was chilling in the park, trying to see how well he could manage at controlling levitation of random objects he finds. He's armed as usual, but he's far from ready for a fight at the moment. Anyone really observant would notice the guns and knife. He isn't hiding them... And while he's not skilled, it makes him feel secure.]

[[OOC note: Meant for Epsilon and Bruce to run into each other. If you want to start your own thread, I'm cool with it though.]]

batdweeb

[During his nightly escapades Bruce has found a few fliers pinned to telephone poles and the like, asking for help with an upcoming event called "Spooky Night." The details have been sparse, but the gist seems to be "show up at the cathedral, put up decorations, get paid X amount at the end of the day."]

[Bruce doesn't have any money in Freesia, which has been nagging at him for a while, even though food and shelter have been readily available. But while the job doesn't pay that much, he figures it won't hurt to have some spare cash stashed away, and he has the time and energy for a day's labor.]

[Besides, running after shadow rats can only keep the stir craziness down for so long.]

[So, morning of September 9th, Bruce shows up bright and early and dosed with coffee. The lady overseeing the Spooky Night setup doesn't seem pleased to see him- especially after he makes a comment about Halloween, something that earns him an irritated/confused look- but she doesn't turn him away either.]

[Bruce is immediately set to work unfolding tables, moving boxes, moving benches, and stringing up lanterns in various corners in and out of the cathedral.]

[The actual work isn't difficult, although after the third time he's asked to take down that lantern you just put up and put it in another corner or actually, they'll need the masks by the door and wait, we might not have enough space for the benches in here... There's a distinct edge of exasperation to Bruce's expression as the morning goes on.]

jonesiseverywhere

[Today is a pretty busy day for Casey, in that he's made some important purchases. Putting up with an annoying paper route every day he wasn't too injured for it, along with some other odd jobs, has finally paid off: He has a bicycle.

Granted, the bike is a complete piece of shit. It's a single-speed behemoth, too big for him and just beginning to rust out, but it was cheap and it's his. It's not unlike the bike he has back home, with two major exceptions, one that he's going to take care of today. Firstly, it's red and not blue, and second?

It's not combat ready.

Casey can be found all around town today. He could digging through the various dumpsters and trashcans in Freesia. He doesn't have much money left and he needs assorted metal and wiring and people throw out some good stuff if you know where to look. He could also be soldering his assorted finds to the bike, in an arrangement that makes apparent sense to no one but Casey. There are holders for things and tubes involved, a long metal pole, and what looks to be a purloined trashcan raggedly cut in half.

He could also be on break, eating lunch and playing with his OTHER new toy: a combat knife, which he bought because...he wanted it. Casey has always been really good at knifey-finger, one of his favorite idle pastimes. He doesn't pay much mind to the stares of Freesia's inhabitants as he does this on an outdoor picnic table, jumping his fingers with the knife with the skill of someone who spends a LOT of time doing this.

Finally at the end of the day, he could be taking the bike out on a test run. It's butt-ugly, with enough jagged metal on it to make a tetanus shot dealer clap his hands in glee, and it's very clearly flammable as it IS made by someone who fights with literal fire. The half-a-trashcan is on the front as a shield, there's a pike, the end of which is covered in what looks to be pine-tar, and there are holders for fireworks. With only one firework loaded in. He's not made of money.

What he REALLY wants is a real Nox portal to test this out on. The alarmed responses of the people on the street tell him he's made an intimidating machine, but it doesn't matter if he can't cut through the enemy with it.]

unrecovered

[The best way to improve in a skill was training. Wash knew that. What he hadn't realized was that training went a lot more smoothly with someone who knew what they were doing in charge.]

[This probably explained why his attempts to practice magic in the park had been frustrating and fruitless for the past half hour. He had no experience in magic and no idea what to do - what he had was determination to master a weapon he'd need in order to fight, and a supply of patience that was beginning to run low.]

[His magic was different than most people's, he reasoned. He didn't have to start his own, like Casey, or use what was on hand, like Greg - no, his element was all around him all the time, and all he had to do was make it do what he wanted. Somehow.]

[Anyone who had been watching him for a bit may have seen sweeping and increasingly ridiculous arm motions - movements that might actually look cool if the wind was playing its part, but just came off as badly choreographed interpretive dance without it. Anyone who had been watching for quite a while may have witnessed him yelling at the sky about how one sweater-vested asshole could have at least provided a tutorial.]

jonesiseverywhere

[Casey just wanted everything to be...no big deal again.

He'd been cooped up in the apartment too long, with himself and an overflow of energy and a lot of bad thoughts. Greg had come back from the dead and everything was good. Wash had come back from his home (or...wherever) and everything was cool, right? They were basically playing on God Mode now. Yeah, it freaked his friends out at first, but it ought to make them all feel invincible now.

Why didn't it?

Why couldn't he even figure out if it made himself feel invincible?

The question had left him completely restless. He hadn't slept well the night Greg came back, and there was only one cure for it: patrol.

Well, OK, more like looking for a fight. It's just how he unwinds when he's stressed.

He'd mastered the art of climbing out the window in the middle of the night, though he hasn't absolutely nailed down yet if the people he's living with hear him every single time he does. Maybe after he does it five nights in a row...

The thick air, the sounds heightened by silence, the heavy black of the night promising action and danger and the excitement he lived for. He could spend it skating from roof to roof, hunting Nox, seeking out his fellow night owls for whatever adventure they find after all decent people have gone to bed.

He's got his padding and his mask and a head full of steam. Let's see what's goin' down...]

goddamngrenades

[ So this is new. He may or may not have had a mini hysterical breakdown in the room where he woke up but- he suits up and tries to get it together. The first time he stretches his mind out for D and finds him gone, even though he knew it wasn't gonna work, he twitches hard against a spike of panic and-

is-

Somewhere else?

This is also new. this is terrifying in it's newness. He goes from a stark, clinical room to the top of a building-
There's a fountain. It's very pretty. He's VERY FREAKED OUT. Another stumbling step and he's

Not there-

anymore he's somewhere else. A library? WHAT THE FUCK? WHERE THE HELL IS HE? Someone's there.
He sees someone there and he reaches out for an answer, for a solution for any fucking thing at all and-

isn't there anymore. He's in a bedroom.

Then a school.

Then an abandoned lot.

Then he's there, RIGHT THERE, all tan armor and crackling voice over the radio, scared and startled and unable to fucking understand what the HELL IS GOING ON and he catches a hold of someone. Anyone. Whoever's closest. Clings and shakes them and says- ]

You're gonna give me some sane answers right the fuck now-

[ But he's gone.

He's gone and he's taken whoever he's grabbed with him and this time? This time he's wiped. This time he STOPS.
Mostly because he's stuck with his arm half in and half out of a wall, forced to stand while his HUD and the healing
unit blare angry noises at him about pressure and potential crush injury if he moves the wrong way. Caught like a
fish he lets go of whoever and scrabbles, trying to dig his arm out. ]

Oh god oh god oh shit oh god someone get me OUT OF HERE!

[ ooc: York is porting himself all around Freesia due to not knowing how his magic works! YAY! If you want him to port into your character's room, bedroom, bathroom, place of employ, whichever just toss them up and assume he's popped up there. If you want your character to have been grabbed by him and stuck in the middle of nowhere with his arm stuck in a wall, go for it! ]

unrecovered

[Wash sat on his bed, legs crossed at the ankle, arms folded, staring at the wall. There was exactly one book in the room, and he'd finished it yesterday. No point in rereading it - not when he could remember the whole thing down to the goddamn word if he wanted to. The network was fairly quiet. There was no TV or radio in here. He was bored out of his goddamn mind and had been for - he checked the clock - the past two hours, at least.]

[Bed rest was bullshit.]

[Bones had insisted, and when Wash had insisted he was well enough to at least walk around the damn apartment, Bones had lifted him straight off the floor with his magic and hauled him back down the hall. There was no arguing with that.]

[Well, no, there was plenty of arguing with that. There was just no winning.]

[So he was stuck in his room, rapidly running out of distractions and reduced to staring at the wall. Great. Just great.]

diediediediediedie

[Staying in hiding seemed fairly prudent with that awful Rose Quartz about, but there were necessities, things to be done. She had eyed the warehouses as a fair location for a hideout, but there was still too much foot traffic there...which is to say, any at all.

But a base needs protection, and protections comes from technology. For now, motion sensors would do. She could certainly booby trap any place she found later, but hiding and running would do. It would need to be portable. And quiet. And she would need to do it with inferior human (is that what this was?) tech.

That was a snag. Another one is that the shops seemed to not want to let her have what she needed. Apparently, she needed green pieces of paper and very specific small metal discs to exchange for the components she required. This made absolutely no sense to her because the paper and the disks had no apparent use whatsoever. The first few attempts had gone poorly, with lots of screaming and accusations of an activity called "shoplifting" which was apparently criminal. Attracting that kind of attention with so many enemies around seemed...unwise. Very unwise.

However, she had determined that there was another way to obtain the objects she needed. During the night, the owners left their shops, leaving them protected by only a relatively thin layer of glass, one that couldn't stand up to even a fraction of the punishment that Gem barriers could. One that was down, it was simply a matter of taking what she needed (or thought she needed, it was so hard to tell with such primitive technology.)

She has been doing this multiple nights. Human tech apparently needed a lot of little bits, and she was learning as she went. Replacements...different sizes...different models...she simply had to adjust as she goes.

So that's where she can be found often enough: about to break a window into a store, rooting through that store, or about to fly away from same. They've started to increase security, but nobody escapes like Peridot...]

starvelingsoulless

[Alexis hasn't interacted with anyone since they got here, really, nothing much; they've kept to themselves in abandoned buildings, warehouses and slums. Places most people don't look too hard at. They sleep during the day and come out at night to not risk anything, shoplift and steal, hunt the wildlife - but -- this time their curiosity's started running red-hot, today.

Magic. Could they really have magic? The water they drink has given itself up kindly, occasionally, as if commanded - but - that's not enough. They need more proof to make it clear.

So it's come to this: Alexis, slightly after twilight, kneeling on the grass at the park and focusing intensely as they guide water around their fingers, shaping it, sharpening it -- at a loss to the outside world, entirely concentrated on the task at hand. The grass around them is damp, but if one looks closely...the water between their hands almost looks like a blade.

But, after all, they're too entrenched in their task -- it's not like they're going to notice anyone creeping up.]

Current Mood: determined

oldfashionedfutureboy

[ All he wanted to do was duck out to grab something for dinner. Cook a proper meal for some people and try to settle himself into some shade of normalcy- he doesn't remember what went wrong. Just that something did. That one moment he was on the sidewalk and the other he'd ducked down the stairs to avoid rain or something and then-

Time's lost. It'd been dark. There'd been voices. There'd been- things. Nox. He's covered in something viscous and he's not all that certain as to what it might actually be- part of him thinks he should grab a sample. The rest just wants a bath. A drink, a bath, and a long time spent in bed. He's not visibly roughed up other than looking mighty sorry and ragged as he makes his way, finally, back into the light.

Semiopaque- something, coats him head to toe. Sticks his scrubs to him, mats his hair to his skull, squelches with each step.

There's not a scent- not a taste. Not even all that much of a color but it's like grease and despair and he just- he wants it off. ]

diediediediediedie

[The big question hanging over everything for Peridot was "now what?"

She was stuck in a big human city, ordered to destroy shadow monsters who may or may not pop out at any time with hypothetical powers she has no idea how to use. Most of her own Gem abilities are gone, she has no need of most of the services in the city, and she can't go anywhere.

So what was she meant to do now?

Her training tells her that if she has no idea AT ALL what to do, then she should gather information...but what would that look like? Tracking someone in the hopes that THEY'LL have a clue?

...Yes, apparently. Well, shards.

Perhaps she could tail a likely looking suspect and watch what they do. See if she can catch them working out their powers. It's just a matter of waiting for someone to come by and follow them for a distance.

Of course, that all depends on someone magic walking by...]

raisethemoon

[Ever just had one of those days where everything is really irritating?]

[It isn't that Luna is unaccustomed to this kind of treatment. The last time she was drawn into another world to fight a war that wasn't hers, the culprit hadn't even had the decency to show their face. On the other hoof, her indignance had faded much faster when she couldn't aim it at anyone specific. Couldn't that Lux have allowed her to retain her magic - or at least her Dream Eaters - if she's meant to be fighting monsters here? What, would he prefer she kick them to death?]

[And these humans! Rude!]

[This pony can be found walking with head held deliberately high and wings tense at her side, meeting the eyes of passerby with unspoken challenge. She doesn't expect them to fling themselves at her feet, but a little common courtesy to a newcomer is not that great a thing to ask. All she wanted was to find a place of residence, honestly.]

[No matter. There must be others like her here, if patterns hold true - she'll find them.]

batdweeb

{Backdated: Can take place anywhere from July 1 to July 25, since he's going out on multiple nights.}

[ As dangerous as the Nox Carnival had been, it had at least given the Batman something simple to fight against. However, the satisfaction of helping clear the carnival of darkness had only gone a small way to alleviating the frustration of having been trapped in Freesia for months. ]

[ To that end, he'd stopped concentrating on his lost equipment and studying the city. Instead, the Batman would go out every other night and patrol Freesia, hunting down any Nox and Rifts lurking in the shadows. ]

[ They'd gone back to being roughly the size of rats and cats ever since the Nox Carnival, and both Nox and the Rifts they came out of could be dealt with in a literal flash. And since they were relatively easy to deal with so far, the Batman had felt justified in avoiding any citizens or other abductees that came out at night. Working alone was... simpler, right now. ]

[ Of course, complicating his attempts to fly under the radar was his magic. ]

[ As effective as it was against the Nox, bright flashes of light were very noticeable after dark, even from a distance. He had experimented with the visibility, changing the colors, trying to make it less glaring, but when a rat-shaped Nox was launching itself at his face, it was hard to be concerned with the obviousness of his attacks. ]

[ Eventually, anybody wandering around at night is going to notice those flashes of light in the distance. ]

mechanacet

<small>[Anyone close to the old observatory this evening can easily tell that something is happening over there, as there is plenty of bashing, crashing and general workshop noise coming from the makeshift workshop right outside it's entrance. The cause of the commotion, Daniel is working on a robot.

And not just any robot. Anyone who had met the man and his assistant/compatriot Cam can easily recognize the structure being built upon as the skeleton of a much scaled up version of the inventor's small friend. However, things do not seem to be going well with the construction right now, Daniel doesn't seem to have enough hands to do all the things he's trying to do at once, and Cam is nowhere near big enough to help in more than a fine detail capacity, which isn't what is needed right now.

As people watch, Daniel loses his grip on a rather large piece of metal shaped somewhat like a forearm. The piece of metal falls almost gracefully, right on top of Daniel's left foot. With a cry of pain, the young inventor sinks down onto one knee, clutching his injured foot. Cam detaches themself from the innards of the robotic centaur, a section in the chest which looks like something could fit in there once the thing is complete, and scampers on over to an already open medical kit. This appears to have not been the first injury Daniel has dealt to himself today.

Someone could probably do a better job of patching Daniel up than Cam, purely because the poor robot just isn't very big and doesn't have the right size hands to help Daniel take off his boot and help set the young inventor's broken foot. That piece of metal was apparently rather heavy indeed, or just fell in exactly the wrong way. Now might be the time to step in, before the idiot manages to hurt himself further.]</small>

unriddling

{backdated: early July.}

[There's something different in the back of Riddler's mind, now. Where his sense of technology had been (the feeling of static, of wires, of code that was almost like noise), there's a shifting chill. It reminds him of sand, of clay, of ashes.]

[With it, can create anything he likes, but the first thing he shapes is his familiar cane. Familiar enough, anyway--it's jet black rather than gold with green accents, but it's good enough. It's weighted perfectly in his hands no matter if he uses it as a scepter, as a blunt weapon, or merely only to show off how well he can spin. Being able to twirl it is surprisingly calming after going a few months without.]

[Or maybe that's everything else. He's noticed there's no hollowness to suppress and ignore; the Nox seem to have told him the truth.]

[It's dusk, and he's stalking the back streets of the slums alone, cane in hand. There aren't as many Freesia citizens here, but the ones there to watch him pass look and act a tad rougher than most. He offers the ones who stare too long smart remarks, punctuated by unpleasantly toothy grins.]

[Before long, he practically has an entourage of irate men surrounding him.]

[And not long after that, those irate men are screaming as he lets the darkness pool around him, spill over the sidewalk, and sink into the ground. He hopes they enjoy the sewers--or, more likely, the subways.]

[Riddler pauses. He can tell there's someone else in the darkness.]

Ah. One of our dear Lux's.

[This truly was a good night to test his newfound abilities.]

Tell me--what is a follower in light, but invisible at night?

panspermia

[When shadows are living forces and your city is under attack, it's no surprise that some people are driven to drink. Those newly brought into the city have been dragged into an unfamiliar place away from their homes, pushed into a fight they know nothing about, and saddled with abilities they likely never asked for. It's a lot to take in.

The go-to method for Greg is to avoid making waves and just try to get along with other, normal people, while someone else can handle the issue. Unfortunately, none of the normal people seem to be willing to get along. For all his efforts, he can barely get one-word responses out of the best of them, and general disdainful looks from all. Not to say it's an unfamiliar circumstance, but with everything else it's all too much to deal with right now.

Greg hasn't drunk a whole lot since the birth of his kid, but his kid's not here, which is a conflicting matter all its own. He's nursing a beer alone at a table, tuning his guitar softly. The rest of the barflies don't seem happy to have him there, since, well, they're presumably here to drink and forget about all these foreigners. Still, they accepted the few crumpled bills from his wallet without too much complaint.

They may have to get used to sharing the space, should anyone else feel like coming for some pressure release.]

unriddling

[Riddler has a gun.]

[He sits in his apartment, carefully turning it over in his hands. He doesn't really use guns in the first place--a bit too messy for his taste to work into heists, and he's bright enough to use less lethal things even before he had his powers--but he wasn't about to leave a trophy and weapon in the hands of someone that at least wanted to be a threat. And it is a gun, as much as it looks like harpoon. He can feel that it's more powerful, though it's not quite the same as the faint static of wires and the television and the lights. It doesn't fire bullets, but he isn't sure of anything beyond that. Lasers wouldn't surprise him.]

[He wants to test it, regardless of if he's going to use it again.]

[Instead of going out and hunting for a firing range, or some other clear area, he uses what he can. He simply moves the curtains opens his window and stares up at the other buildings. He's not quite at the top floor, and there's a building across the street with a rooftop garden, where a few sunflowers wave in the breeze near the edge. ]

[Why not. He aims it carefully and fires.]

[And then everything explodes.]

[There's no sunflowers anymore. Or a window to his apartment, nor a wall, and he's flat on his back across the room with the back of his head throbbing. Half the city probably saw that beam.]

[As soon as he realizes what happened, he shoves himself to his feet, grabs his few important possessions--the gun itself, the eyeglass, sharp questions, a simple shirt-and-jeans outfit he left on the bed--and runs.]

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Entries tagged with *open

[Open] Practice Makes Perfect

An overdue open post

Bat-labored

[Open] Moveable Fire Hazards

Magic Is Hard

[OPEN] Some house apes don't domesticate well

All in all you're just another brick in the wall [ Open ]

Cabin Fever [Open to Wash's friends]

[Open] Like a Grouchy Green Thief in the Night

[open]

[ OPEN ]

[Open] She's never tailed anyone before but is pretty sure it can't be that hard

The Moon Also Rises

Strike with Light

Testing - Robot Centaurs are hard, and broken bones are ignored by those who want to keep working.

¿? a new riddle

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¿? for a genius, riddler does a lot of stupid things

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