1964-10-09 - Astra IV: Ghosts of Utopia
Summary: Maximus has a thing or two to learn about the vox populi.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
maximus rogue dante kaleb 

Miserable, that's what most would call Attilan. The doors don't work. Windows don't open. Extraneous power surges make for a dark night and the inconveniences during the day add up as new protocols are instituted and require long lines of Inhumans to gather just to reach work. The unease of the Kree spilling at random across screens, and rumors of /what/ the largely unknown language is causes no end of bother. This is the city in lock down, preparing for the worst, full of whispers.

They say the mines aren't even accessible, the population /there/ barred from going up or down. Guards pull double shifts patrolling the streets, and everywhere, there are rumors and whispers. They look for the odd ones, those who don't belong, the strangers.

The general populace is uneasy, which makes slipping through almost impossible. If you aren't a known face, congratulations, expect questioning. It's nearly enough for Scarlett, bound in a demure black outfit with a lightning bolt tagged on the collar, to consider giving up and finding the nearest person glove less. Bad move for a diplomat and historian, but still….

Kaleb could actually pass as Maximus from the wrong angle and that could be a dangerous thing. Same height, same build, dark hair, and a posture that suggested he might be the undisputed lord and master of every square inch of dirty he presently occupied, and of course had to borrow a change of clothes from Max as he was staying there having been hyjacked with no time to pack his own things.

Kaleb stood not really leaving the direct property he was told to presently occupy for his own safety and as miracles would have it, he was one of those people that actually listened when these words were used together. Imagine that. There was a small notebook in hand and a mechanical pencil the southpaw was scratching in it with. He looked up and though he didn't mouth the words, he also didn't need to curiously noting someone familiar in what he knew as an unlikely place. "Scarlett?" Now what was she doing here??

Another face that is likely not a common enough sight to forego any questioning is making his way down the street of the city in lockdown. Dante Pertuz is walking along, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, his jacket pulled tightly about his upper body to ward off any chill that may be in the air. His eyes fret to and fro restlessly, cautiously, as if expecting any sudden surge in power or the next big change to result in an attack on him personally. Probably a needless concern, but who can ever tell?

Good news, world! Since Max started, with his A-Team last night, kicking the ass of a few of those haywire systems, he has been on FIRE, filled with that manic energy that possesses him in times of triumph and stress. He, pretty obviously, is known by EVERYONE, and no one stops him doing anything, because for once, he's being pretty helpful and only slightly offending the genetic council by using their computers for some of it. He comes down the hall, wearing his full regalia, waving a map, loudly stating, "I have twelve more systems plotted out and a few others nearly there!" He can see Kaleb, since that man is also in the palace, and he approaches him with an overbroad smile. "Attilan clothes /suit you/. Look at this city, Kaleb!" He gestures with his hand across the quiet, locked-down place, "Soon it will be /thriving/ again…" He takes a deep breath and rests his hand on the balcony railing. He knits his brows. "Who are those people ignoring the curfew?"

The redhead's presence is not a complete unknown. One wears the marks she does for given identity and protection, though even a vaunted stranger remains a stranger, an outsider. Nonetheless, Scarlett for the most part keeps to herself, holding a book in one definitely gloved hand. No one is going to mistake her for the House of Agon, but she can pass for nearly any Inhuman that hasn't undergone terrigenesis. Which, then, makes anyone saluting her by her name in a tone of surprise noteworthy; a given reason for pause. Her gaze sharply flickers, the greener-than-green hue almost flashing radiant in the sunshine. Turning her head a degree to find the source, it's not entirely a shock to see Kaleb. Or she wears masks so very well.

"Fair day," she replies, nodding somewhat. Twelve more… And that dark gaze treks up, up, up, past another man and a pile of guards, to a source she knows well. She should. They're practically kin in a sense.

Kaleb was not one to be overly emotive, but the compliment had the sonic sitting a bit more like a peacock. Yes, compliments could be currency in the right denomination. His head tilted just a bit; paused in part way to look past his shoulder to Maximus walking up to join him, but still hanging on both the subject and the answer to Maximus' question. He blinked. That was not a very good answer. It confused him and another part of him wasn't surprised by the ethereal spirit of wind that was Scarlett at all. "That is Scarlett… I know her from the university?" It wasn't a guess where he knew her from but he didn't expect to see her here. eyes snapped to Dante and an eyebrow arched. "He I do not know." Back to Scarlett giving her a nod of approach though it was Maximus he answered nudging a chair out for him to sit with the toe of his Oxford boot. "Thriving. Defiant. Fortified. I think I'd like to revisit the old city though before this is all over if that's possible. The place was personal to him. It was deserted, but it meant something to him still.

Dante catches the looks sent his way by both Maximus and Kaleb, his dark eyes lifting to meet the direction of their look before his own brows furrow slightly. Perhaps there is some defiance there in the young man's countenance, but he does not mean mug the two. Rather, he drops his gaze back toward his own feet as he walks along, unknowingly following a line that brings him along the same path as Scarlet.

Maximus gets a sly look on his face, "Ohhh, you are right, Kaleb, it IS Scarlet. How could I forget? But…she seems to have /lost/ something." He speaks in a sing-song tone, the map flapping about as he gestures. Then his smile disappears and his face becomes grim. "Where is my brother?" Dante catches his steel eyes then and he narrows them further, trying to figure out where he knows that face. It was a long time ago that the kid went into exile.

Blithe movement defines Scarlett in action, a sonnet of self-control that comes with an intense awareness of her physical self. Years of yoga practice will do that for a girl, and so too the breathless knowledge when things go wrong. Like when harsh looks hit her between the shoulder blades or cajoling words try to get a rise from her. The skald's smile is full of sunlight, a benediction resistant to any cruelty, salve for harshness. "Good day, sir," she murmurs to Dante, stepping aside to allow him past. In a community small as Attilan, undoubtedly she and Kaleb are immediately not recognized. Or not much. Her presence has been noted now and then. Subtle things, of course. The phosphorescent sheen of her irises shines, and she replies, "O brother, where art thou?" It's better than verse she might murmur, Walt Whitman or Wordsworth.

Kaleb watched curiously. His previous stay he wasn't permitted out of the palace so seeing citizens of a city built to celebrate their differences with great aplomb struck him very interesting; his face neutral. Maximus, however, could be just a shark when he was manic and while Kaleb hid no bias he was not unaware of what such affectations of personality could incur. Instead of feeding the mood he offered an extension of his hand to Maximus to at least divide the focus from the viper stare with some scope of reason. "For your knowledge, she was with me at the school when this all went down and Karnak came to speak with us. She may, actually, not know… but we can find out. We will find out." Quiet words spoken with certainty. Dante though was still the outlier. he had know real knowledge of the regional populace on a pedestrian level.

Close enough to be within hailing, or shouting distance, Dante glances back up to find Maximus' eyes still upon him, and their narrowed intensity causes the young man to scowl even further before he opens his mouth and calls across the distance separating them, "What are you staring at? I'm not bothering you down here." His eyes shift then toward Scarlet as she steps aside and he dips his head into a nod of greeting, "Hello. Sorry to yell in your ear…" He gestures distractedly toward Maximus over there, eyes following that gesture to bounce between Maximus and Kaleb.

|ROLL| Maximus +rolls 1d20 for: 4

Black eyebrows spike upwards as the teenager responds to him. "Do you…have…oh no. HAH HAh HAH, No no. " He gestures a little. "Iiiiiii am Maximus the Magnificent…at best the ruler of allll of this, and at worst, /Royalty/. For generations, the genetic council has guided the creation of the purest code to re-" In the middle of what is SURE to be an impressively arrogant monologue, he catches sight of Kaleb, looking all reasonableish and attractive in his Attilan attire and he pauses and pinches his lips. And rogue's here. There's that too. He works his jaw. Then he looks at Rogue, expectant.

"Thank you for the apology, though it's quite unnecessary," says the bohemienne. The lilt of her voice isn't at all the same as the accents found here, English blended to upper crust New York and heavily in favour of the former over the latter. Fire-brushed braids run down her back, not a hint of winter's frost to be found. "Do you know him? Should you seek a private discussion, I can continue upon my way," she tells Dante. The young man receives a faint smile. Opacity is the path of masks, the everchanging definition of adopting a new role or stance as need be. Steepling her fingers, she turns her gaze up to Maximus and Kaleb again. All air and light, nothing seems to trouble her overmuch. Mind, this is a girl who punched a space shark in a fit of pique after it broke its teeth biting her, so there's that. "Your brother is elsewhere. It is, no doubt, a matter of critical importance for him not to be here. What assistance is required to keep the peace?"

Kaleb stood up and turned to Maximus daring, yes daring, to put a hand on his shoulder. The mutant at some point became a voice of reason somewhere down the road and he seemed to at least grasp the reality of that responsibility. There was a half grin that warmed as Max just went on a tear pontificating. "Hey, it's a different day. Let your work speak for you. We're getting close and we are all exhausted. He might need our help." The words were ridiculously quiet, but the sonic was often stingy with words. He looked back out to the two travelers and gave Dante a nod and said, "It's been a very long day securing the city." Was he any sort of appointed spokesperson? No, but he could do as a translator.

Kaleb apced and perhaps too far? The words of Maximus were not subtle so when Kaleb stepped out onto the path and gave them all a confused look. His head tipped down with two fingers pressed to either side of his head looking…confused? Then…his eyes went wide.

God the coat looked pretty. Maximus had really great taste in coats, more so than he did in plans to take over the world most days, but fantastic dress sense. It was important to note that he was not the one that put a hole in the back of the coat, and the sonic wasn't the one that exploded the water glass on the table behind him. The sonic just stood there and fell back with a stagger and then slow motion looking very confused. Three more sounds, now audible could be heard crack into the stone tiles of the ground and dirt besides.

This was not a fashion critique. Was this was a failed assassination attempt? Those work better when you don't mistake your target.

|ROLL| Maximus +rolls 1d20 for: 2

Dante seems on the verge of spitting out some angry reply to Maximus… is on the verge of doing just that… when the gunshots begin to ring out. He jerks his head left to right, watching as the others in the street begin to run in fear and soon enough he is swept away with them, his head low and arms up.

Maximus looks at Kaleb, oddly, when the man makes such a strange expression on his face. When he staggers back, though, and there are cracking sounds on the tiles, Max's face turns to horrified! He's caught between knowing that its highly dangerous to stay put, and also…he has to get Kaleb out of there. "Kaleb?!" Then he yells at Rogue, "FIND THEM!!! Can you not fly?!" He launches forwards to grab Kaleb's hand and pretty unceremoniously drags him behind cover from the attacks. "Kaleb!" He pats the mutant's cheek. "HELP ME!!" He yells, and his power washes out, giving that command to any minds near enough in a basic, primal, sense.

The cracking reverb of gunshots is reason to get out of dodge. Run, every instinct howls. But intuition slips her whispers in before Scarlett hears the surging squall. Slim fingers shove the book into the pocket of her jacket, an insufficient space for more than holding it. Freed hands are essential if she's to be able to act, the sound of a subtle crack warranting a move. Broken bits fly into the air, a broken tile from the ground driving her back. A swat of her arm doesn't do much to knock it out of the way. One of those tiny fragments slices along her cheek, leaving barely a pink mark. Her expression fades into concentration as she looks for the source in the madness, hands clapped over her ears. People are assuredly going to scream. A mad would-be monarch in distress. Why is this so familiar?

Steps are meaningless to her when she passes through the charging crowd, a ghost, finding the spaces as they open. "Hit the ground." Warnings they probably won't heed.

Kaleb laid on the ground looking stunned and confused. He wasn't hard to drag. His cheek got slapped, Echo's eyes locked on Maximus. He was conscious. Conscious was good. He was shivering and looked to Maximus for an answer. Thankfully he could bend sound rather than hurt trying to speak, "Max? They're trying… to hurt you… giddown." The shots could have been worse and might have been if he didn't have that audible heads up.

The problem was the shooter couldn't be seen and there was no one standing in that direction. Two more pegged the side of the building that Max ducked behind and in the pandemonium there were some that could be seized and respond to the demands. Whoever this was seemed exceptional at avoiding being seen.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License