Limited 3 SIMPLE TRICKS FOR POSTPONING THE APOCALYPSE!

[Katpride]

The Firelight Cafe is a supposedly quaint little coffee shop well within walking distance of Spork’s apartment. It has outdoor seating, free WiFi, and a wide selection of drinks and baked goods. They learn all of this during the walk over; most of it against their will, as they’re just slightly too slow to shut off the screenreader before it starts reading out each and every menu item listed on the cafe’s google maps page.

With Miku in their other ear to keep them from wandering off course, they can feel their hackles starting to rise. The conflicting audio aggravates their already present headache, and although they’re quick to pull the offending earbud from their ear and manually force-quit the program, their temper, already difficult to control at the best of times, is stirred into a fine, foam-like froth by the time they actually reach the place.

So, in a way, it’s actually kind of good that they get there before Freyja. It means they have time to make a detour, popping into the shop next door and cheerfully harrying the clerk into finding them a whiskey that will pair well with their coffee. The light bullying lifts their spirits, and, decidedly against the idea of reflecting on any of their actions, they tuck the little bottle into the tote bag that Mari had shoved into their hands when they left, then wander over to the coffee shop.

It doesn’t take them long to order and claim a table. The weather is relatively mild today, almost bordering on temperate if they stay out of the wind, and so they pick their way out onto the deck, doing their best to lounge without making it too obvious how they’re huddling within the strange, heavy material of the jacket that Mari gave them every time the wind shifts.

At least the breeze is keeping the other, weaker-willed patrons from trying to join them on the deck. If losing feeling in the tips of their ears means that Spork is free to stretch out and modulate the ratio of their drink on their own time, then they’ll take it.

Keeping a quarter of their awareness on Miku’s sporadic updates, they turn most of their attention towards their phone, sipping at their drink and scrolling idly through Tumblr while they wait for their erstwhile coffee companion to crawl out of whatever hole she must’ve fallen in. (They can’t wait to hear that story; it has to be a pretty deep one, for her to be anything other than right on time. Maybe if it’s good enough, they won’t razz her for it.)

Heh. They huff a laugh under their breath, scrolling to the next post with a casual swipe. As if.

Spoiler: OOC

Hi everyone! This is a Limited event, so please ask to join before you post to it!
Also, please wait for Volt to post before hopping in if you do plan to join.
It's gonna be a doozy, but she's gonna be setting up most of the action; this is just to establish the scene :3

 

[HighVoltage]

Freyja hadn’t slept well the night before.

There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Sometimes she just tossed and turned, mind racing a kilometer a second over nothing in particular, replaying the events of the past week or two. Most of the thoughts that lingered in her head were about a certain scruffy bastard, but that was just because they’d been the only interesting thing that had happened to her in that time. That was all.

And so what if Friday morning she rose before the sun and set out for the gym, starting her day far earlier than she had before? That’s just what you did when you couldn’t sleep. Which, again, was happening for no particular reason. Sure, there was the idle thought that wondered if she’d have more luck sleeping if she was sharing a bed with a certain blond, but she was just reflecting on the last time they’d seen each other, that’s all!

That day when they’d made plans, coffee at an as-of-that-moment-undecided location that Spork had texted her about the night before, telling her to pick a spot and send them the address. Any further attempts at conversation had been met with silence, and Freyja had spent the rest of the evening acting completely normally, completing her third workout of the day even as the clock slipped from one day to the other without even a hint of fanfare. Not that she’d noticed.

Freyja was a terrible liar, especially to herself.

Freyja had been running late, something that she was kicking herself for with every step. She could already hear Spork’s chiding tones, their mock disapproval. She’d never hear the end of it. It wasn’t her fault. She’d had to stop by the store and the bank, to get clove cigarettes and quarters, respectively, knowing that if she didn’t they would naturally bring it up and have something else to rib her about. One of the few things she’d learned about Spork was that the less ammunition you gave them, the better.

Freyja stood at the crosswalk, foot tapping impatiently as she waited for the light to change. Just as she was about ready to ignore the robotic voice that kept telling her to wait every three seconds and risk playing in traffic, orange flipped to white and she joined the rush of people seeking to cross the busy street. It wasn’t too far from Firelight Cafe, and Freyja’s gaze instinctively turned to scan for the building’s entrance. She spotted a lone figure on the deck, casually sprawled out and scrolling through their phone. A smile danced across her lips and something in her chest loosened, an unspoken fear of their absence slipping away.

A cold pit formed in her stomach as she felt the sharp pinpricks of talons digging into the back of her neck.

“So, this is the one who’s been taking up your time.”

Crackling sparks and sharpened steel echoed in her mind. Despite the heat behind those talons, Freyja felt her body grow cold. Her legs grew numb, no longer hers to command. She’d stopped in the middle of the crosswalk, the orange sign now blinking out a lazy warning, a countdown that left Freyja feeling sick.

“Such distractions will only keep you from our great work.”

The tattoos along her body burned with a fire she’d never felt before, white-hot agony down her spine, across her shoulders, along her arms. The voice was whispering in her ear, crashing in her mind, growling behind her. Daggers formed under her flesh, pressing against the skin on her shoulder blades, threatening to rip her apart.

“Do not worry. Distractions are natural. You’re only human, after all.”

Freyja felt her hand grow heavy, pale eyes drawn to what had just formed. A sword of twisted black iron rested in her grip, its edge glowing red-hot from the flames that danced along the blade’s length. With ease, her hand spun the blade around until it was parallel with her body, its point facing the ground. Freyja sickeningly noticed the blackened talons that had replaced her fingernails; the same talons that were still dangerously pressed against the nape of her neck.

A chorus of horns emerged from the traffic that was now behind her as Freyja’s body turned to face the meeting spot she’d arranged, where she’d told Spork to be. Even over the clamor of man and metal beast shouting, the voice was still crystal clear.

“I, however, am not.”

A wordless scream ripped from Freyja’s throat and tore through her lips as the blade was smoothly brought up over her head, the flames burning brighter even as they began to crawl under her skin. With the roar of an inferno, she slammed the blade into the asphalt. It sunk in to the hilt, fire erupting around her. The ground cracked, gouts of flame ripping through the earth, cars, and man, whatever stood in its way as it raced towards its target. The fiery pillars collided with the building, shattering its flimsy walls and tearing a gash through it.

Curtains of flame parted as Veljara opened her eyes, the fire dancing harmlessly over her gray skin before settling along her back. She rose, smoothly drawing the blade from its earthen sheath, and her newfound cloak of sparks and ash shifted into a solid mass as Veljara stretched her wings for the first time. Each was nearly as long as she was tall, and she took a moment to appreciate their weight, their delicate motions, how they shifted her balance, before she let them fall back into a resting position.

She surveyed the initial carnage, a tinge of approval on her lips, before stalking forward. Her fiery gaze lingered on the blackened slash that her flames had cut through the shop itself. Interesting.

It appeared as though Freyja had managed to wrest some control back in her final moments. She’d been aiming for the exterior, where the lone figure had been sitting, but it appeared her attack had been shifted just enough to spare them the full force of her wrath.

No matter. Veljara let the sword fall, its blackened blade twisting into flame as soon as it hit the ground. In its wake she pulled forth a spear, its head crooked and glowing with a fiery light. She shifted in her path, now heading towards the ruins of the deck.

She had a dog to put down.

 

[Katpride]

Just as they’re wondering if maybe they should double-check that they’re actually in the right place, the ambient sounds of traffic tick up a couple notches, tipping from ignorable to highly annoying as several people decide that now would be a great time to start an all-horns band.

Spork, already preemptively rolling their eyes, clicks their phone off and rolls their head around to face in the general direction of the disturbance, tuning back in to Miku’s ongoing report: -elve feet, 7 o’clock. / F-03, 35 feet, 9 o’clock. Well, that’s- Armed. Hm.

“Shrimpteresting.” Shuffling around so they’re no longer slumped halfway out of their chair, they swirl their coffee, and, after a moment’s deliberation, chug the remainder of it. Their phone is slipped back into their pocket, their earbuds carelessly tossed into the tote bag currently sitting on the chair beside them. All of the hard plastic components seem intent on clattering against every single other thing in the bag on the way down, clanking loudly against a mostly-empty bottle and whatever Mari had… Hang on.

Way too late, they finally realize exactly what they’ve been carrying around all day. Unfortunately, they have exactly zero time to dwell on this revelation, as a scream both familiar and not splits the air and the ground rumbles ominously underfoot. Miku wails a moment later, blasting its proximity alarm louder than they think they’ve ever heard it, but they’re already moving, scooping up the tote and diving under a neighboring table even as the ground caves in a few feet away.

“C’mon, I know you packed it, you paranoid bastard,” they mutter, ignoring the cacophony of shifting rubble and screaming from the building behind them in favor of digging through their bag, tossing aside a scarf, a hat, a granola bar, and their earbuds before their fingers finally close around cold metal and reinforced plastic.

With a muted noise of triumph, they pull their mask and gauntlets from the depths of the bag, then work to equip the gear as quickly as possible. Luckily, the alcohol in their system is doing its work, smoothing over the worst of the pain when the mask settles over the bridge of their recently broken nose. They send a silent thanks to whiskey and another to their over-protective best friend as they stuff their pockets with the various goodies she’d left them, leaving what they can’t carry to whatever fate awaits it under this random metal table.

It’s all really very simple, they think, taking a moment to flex their fingers in the gauntlets before scrambling out from their impromptu hiding spot, the baton in their hand unfolding to its full length with a flick of their wrist. Something happened to Freyja. Whatever it was, they’re about to go punch that something in the face.

 

[UmbraSight]

Courier wasn’t necessarily part of Eliana’s job description, but it also wasn’t like her job really had an actual description beyond a muddled sort of vagaries that came together to look like a job if you didn’t inspect them too closely. Still, Eli was being paid largely under the table, didn't really have a clear of what her legal rights were when it came to employment, and was being paid under the table, so she didn’t ask too many questions when it was time to do something that wasn’t quite in her melange of responsibilities. Still, courier was better not really her job job than the time she had to spend an afternoon trying to fix the wiring in the break room fridge because she had accidentally let it slip that she knew some basics. She at least hadn’t mentioned that she only knew those basics because Wren had explained them to her when she was thirteen and in the middle of sewing a knife wound in his side, but that wasn’t much of a victory really.

So, she could handle being a courier. The weather was mild, as long as the wind was still, so Eli was happy to stretch her legs. This also got her out of the shop that had seen maybe two customers today and her nose out of her chemistry textbook. All of this to say that Eli was on her way to the post office to drop off a parcel, which was really rather mundane. Eli had not been paying the greatest amount of attention when the honking started up, because it was a city and that was just a general sort of background noise, she did however realize something was amiss when she walked face first into the back of a man who had been walking ahead of her. She had managed to splutter out the first syllable of an apology when the street went and exploded. This was, and excuse her for the understatement, very surprising.

The heat prickled her skin, or it made a determined effort to be hot by the time it whipped around her and all the strangeness was squeezed out of it. This likely is what kept the guy she had walked into from getting cooked. The man yelled something that Eli didn’t quite catch and then he was gone, off and running away from the wreckage. Smart, him.

Eliana too was in motion as soon as the shock passed. Her parcel slipped from beneath her arm, hitting the ground with a thump she’d find concerning if she weren’t already pulling open her satchel as she sprinted straight for the fresh hole put into the side of the cafe.