epidemiology | with so much drama in the industry;

[Pandemonium doesn't even begin to explain the half of it.

The press at the legal clinic is one thing, but this level of frenzy is another thing entirely. He can't quite tell who is infected or who isn't at this rate, and it doesn't help that the team as a whole doesn't know all that much about the virus. This is a breeding ground for infection, and yet here he is, caught up in the mess of it, being thrust against the bodies of complete strangers without warning.

A woman turns around, irritated. It seems as though he's bumped into her, and his hand might have slipped amidst all the dreadful chaos. Panicking, Asher steps back a bit, only knocking his elbow into another angry rioter.]

What? Oh no, I didn't mean to-

[Someone moves faster than he can really anticipate.

She's with a much larger man who doesn't hesitate to strike.

Before he can even really blink, he finds himself toppling straight into the ground.]

Edited 2017-02-16 06:47 (UTC)

[Every expletive imaginable runs through his head as he skulks the darker corridors of city hall, with one hand resting on the hunting knife that hangs off his belt. An impractical choice for a weapon, but there's something about a pistol that frightens him in a way that is almost instinctive. He claims it's because he has shitty aim, but that's a laughable attempt at an excuse.

He knows why.

Sneakers that are not quite worn out yet tread upon one of many pieces of paper littered across the ground. There's a rustle and he suddenly senses that he is not alone, the hair on the back of his neck stands ramrod straight-]

What's going on?

[Asher speaks up, only to hear his own echo.]

Is someone there?

[A rookie mistake.]

[Outside was better than inside, but the cluster of people was still too suffocating. She doesn't tell herself she should have stayed at the university because she'd been there long enough as it was. She was wasting her time there, heard all there was to hear for information. And while she was patient, she was bad at doing absolutely nothing.

Widowmaker makes her way through the rioting crowd with an ease born of years of practice, bobbing and weaving between flailing limbs and shoving bodies. Her teeth grit and frustration mounting the longer she takes to get through the thick of it. She almost misses him, catching just the flicker of movement and the sound of a voice she thinks she recognizes--

But when she sees him go down she shifts directions, unaware of who it is as she pushes her way towards him until she crests the final barrier. It's a death sentence to fall in the middle of a riot, the quickest way to get trampled. She doesn't call out to him as she moves forward, a little too fast for anyone to anticipate, her hand connecting with a shoulder as she shoves the larger man aside and pushes her way to stand in front of Asher.]

Back off, fighting each other like this isn't going to solve anything.

[She ignores the protest, the comment about a slipped hand and stands strong in the face of her potential opposition. She doesn't promise violence, but her stance gives the aura of it even as she turns away to offer a hand to help Asher up.]

You alright?

[ truth be told, Stiles doesn't really expect to find much in the city hall, nothing that the others haven't already discovered. but he can't stop himself from wanting to investigate around nonetheless — it's an itch under his skin, one no amount of scratching will relieve. he spends the days running between the police station, the university, the riots... and the evenings investigating where he can.

this particular night, he'd slipped through the crowds outside the city hall, trusted his luck to get him inside unseen. his mind is buzzing as he tries to hold his focus, the knowledge that his shield could be the only thing left to defend himself with heavy... though the weight of the gun he'd stolen from the precinct is heavier.

as soon as he hears the rustling, hears someone speak out —

well, his strategy was to pretend to be a member of the police force, but given how this particular voice is painfully familiar, painful because of all the network posts he couldn't wipe out of his memory even if he tried... ]

Dude, you never ask if there's someone there, you prepare for an attack and sneakily peek at the hallway, okay? If this was a horror movie, you'd be two seconds from being dead.

[Asher's grip on the sheath of his weapon tightens, that is, before he recognizes the wiry frame of a boy he's seen on and off while scrolling his Magitek. Stiles can't know that he is haunted by the memory of a night that's far away now, long gone but not any less vivid in the way it still haunts him on particularly troublesome occasions. While derisive banter of the sort would usually bother him, in this moment it eases his worries.

A teammate, even if it's one he doesn't hold particularly fond feelings towards, is a wonderful sight to see.]

Whatever, bro.

[He glances to one side and then the other, as if to reaffirm that they are alone.

What he doesn't realize is that their surroundings are now suspiciously quiet.]

I'm new to this horror movie mess, you dig? Stop doggin' me, I'll figure it out.

[New he says, when in reality he's gotten used to fishing for information in the dead of night.]

Weren't you that nosy kid who gave me some serious 'tude on network, that one time?

[He cowers on the ground despite being strong enough to confront his aggressor physically, spewing a litany of apologies behind hands that are still relatively soft, even after months of training and hard work.]

It was an accident, I'm so sorry, I wasn't gonna try anything weird or gross or-

[Asher stops mid-sentence, recognizing Widowmaker's voice from their previous transmission.

She is so cool and collected in the way he conducts herself, he can't help but be awed into silence for a few seconds.]

Yeah, I'm okay.

[The words leave him slowly, partly because he's thrown off by how she appears. Her skin is not blue but a natural hue that isn't of a deathly pallor, although the shape of her jaw and the thin line her mouth seems to be constantly set in is still the same. It is not the color of her eyes that strikes him as familiar, it is the fierceness within them.

She looks at him as though she knows him, too, which leads him to take her hand.]

I really am sorry.

[He says this after being brought to his feet and peering over Widowmaker's shoulder, eyes searching for whomever it was he had bothered earlier. A piss-poor attempt at an entirely sincere apology, although it's too late. The crowd has shuffled, continuing in its frenzy, and the couple from before is soon lost within it.

Now, back to his teammate.]

Thanks.

[At another time she might have chastised him for not standing up and defending himself, but the sharp edges have been smoothed slightly. At first the idea had bothered her, the fact that maybe she'd end up caring in some strange way. Then it had happened so naturally she hadn't dwelled on it.

Her own survival at first, then others trickled in.

She offers a quick look at Asher to check him for any possible injuries after he's on his feet, ignoring his reassurance to his state. Widowmaker only appears calm and collected on the surface, but the tension she feels shows in the set of her shoulder and the shift of muscles in her jaw. The couple from earlier is gone now..

Too many bodies, doctors, hospitals--

The thought gets shut down, her eyes lifting from Asher to cast a glance around the ever shifting mass around them; jerking slightly when someone bumps into her. The woman turns, says something Widowmaker doesn't acknowledge and moves on after a moment of pause.]

You're welcome.

[Her focus is on him again and she tilts her head to the side slightly 'we should go' spoken through the gesture. She waits to give him time to gather himself fully before she turns to start her way back through the crowd.

There's nothing to be done here.]

[Yeah, someone's there. But luckily, it isn't someone that's any threat to him. That rustling was the sound of movement from under a table that hasn't been upturned, and it's actually just a teenage girl hiding under there with her face in her hands. She's managed to escape rioters and infected alike -- for the moment -- but the stress has gotten to her and she's pretty paralyzed down there]

[She hears Asher's voice, not really recognizing it as his voice, and holds her breath, going completely still]

[He'll never know she's there now!!!]

[ I'm new to this horror movie mess, Asher says, and Stiles can barely stop a hysterical laugh from bubbling up, because his life has literally turned into a horror movie mess ever since he started high school, and if the memories of the future are anything to go off of, it's not going to change any time soon. he doesn't need a Barbossa to tell him to start believing in horror movies — he's been in one long before this mission even started.

which is why he, perhaps uncharacteristically, ignores the jab and being called a kid and waves his hand, sharp horizontal movements, a wordless cut it.

after a few seconds have passed (unless Asher fills them with chatter, god, how can there be someone who talks even more than he does), he whispers, ]

Okay, if you're new to this and I'm not, here's the plan: we do what we wanted to do here and then get the hell out. While being as silent as ghosts.

[ Only slightly less practical than a crowbar. Which is wildly more difficult to explain if you're caught, but at least it has range. Range he'll put to use after a hearty shush by reaching out and giving Asher a nudge in the side with the curved end. His hiding place consists of a tiny alcove, one of many reserved for pieces of important-looking art along this important-looking hallway, and one that he'd been attempting to time an escape from until this teammate had rounded the corner. Sigma gestures him over hurriedly. How did they end up getting this deep. No time to explain, get in the hole. ]

Yeah dude, lots of someones.

[ Meaning some office up there is probably where they keep the deets (if there even are any deets, this is pure video game logic), but with an expression like this it probably doesn't need to be said that he's finally accepting the fact that Mission: Impossible was way harder than it looked. Especially considering that he's also about as sneaky as a brick sneaking through a window. ]

[He follows the other quickly, blindly, as his trust is easy to win. Thankfully, Sigma isn't the kind of person who'd abuse it. Asher feels as though his voice is soft enough to say the following words, although as a result, they may be his last.]

What if we never get out of here?

[Said all too fast, as sweat pools on his doughy brow.]

What if we never get to get it up again?

["""we"""

don't rope sigma in2 this]

Edited 2017-02-23 05:54 (UTC)

[ Good because he really hates it when people choose moments like these to be sketchy in the trust department. He doesn't want to be caught any more than anyone else!! Which is at least half the reason Asher's next words are so alarming. ]

Shh— Ash, that's quitter talk! [ Hissed even quieter, but with just as much gusto, putting a finger to his own lips for emphasis because Asher looks about ready to lose it. ] We're gonna get what we came for and get out of here, we'll live to bone another day—and trust me you go throw this almost-got-arrested almost-died shit into it and it's like a whole new level of—

[ Unfortunately, the sound of a door unlatching from somewhere down the hall cuts that thought short and Sigma shuts up again, slapping a hand on Asher's shoulder and forcing him down alongside him into a crouch as distant footsteps approach. ]

[Before he has time to think, he is pushed to the ground. Stealth is not his forte no matter how much he loves playing spy, but Sigma has a point. They are here for information, which at this time, is all they can really get.

With an ear to the ground he tries to listen for any clues. Are these people infected, is there anything about their walk that suggests an off-kilter sense of direction, a crazed desire to feast on human flesh?

No, it seems.]

I dunno how I feel about this, Siggy Sig.

[can we like take this situation seriously for a second]

[Before following, he has to make damn sure that he's not just going through an intense kind of déjà vu.

In a whisper, although it's pointless to lower his voice during this level of pandemonium:]

ALASTAIR, right?

[ Sorry for being rough, but it was a weird reflex. Sigma really doesn't have a self-preserving bone in his body, but at least it kicks in when there are others in danger with him. Look at him, still as the grave, the picture of a protective hero with his hand still clamped down on Asher's shoulder to keep him still, at least until— ]

I— Not with each other!

[ no. no we can't. ]

[ Because that's definitely an important enough distinction to almost die for. The footsteps pause for a moment, very distinctly, the source undoubtedly piqued in the direction of Sigma's frantic hissing and recoiling for definitely a second too long before slowly moving on along the hall. ]

[ After a pointedly long pause, he'll eventually raise his head, ]

Which way'd they come from, anyway...

[The worst is what he's come to expect as of late.

This time he will not be caught off guard, or so he thinks. Asher draws the blade from its sheath, clutching it with what he thinks is quiet determination. Oddly enough, he has no problem seeing in the dark, thanks to two little gifts from ALASTAIR that happen to be hidden under his green hoodie.

His foot hits one of the legs of the table by accident and he lets out a loud grunt, doubling over in pain.

It is then when he sees Maya.]

Ugh-

[Inhale, exhale.]

Oh, thank god.

It's just you.

[He shoots a glare in Stiles' direction, with a sense of irritation that's misguided at best. Asher hates being belittled even though he's done just the same to the younger boy a few seconds ago. He wants so badly to be a real part of the team, to be someone useful or important, that it blinds him momentarily.

Nostrils flare, although he gives way in due time.]

It's not good to be in here alone, man.

[Although he doesn't follow the order entirely, his voice does get quieter.]

Maybe the fact that we found each other... It's for the best.

I don't know.

[People have been fleeing this place by the dozens; it's not as though Asher hasn't read the reports or seen the frenzy from earlier today. Why would there be employees who were still here, with all that is at stake? Nobody loves their jobs that much, not unless there's a hefty price to pay for abandoning ship.]

Quick, check your 'tek thingy.

[His voice is a little less quiet now.]

If whoever was in here... If they were ALSTAIR, they'll show up. You can track 'em.

You see anybody?

[Now he is flipping through his device, too.]

Anyone you know, any signals...

Are any other dudes or dudettes nearby, like in the hallway, you think?

[Asher Millstone: Master of Stealth. Truly, he's faced his greatest threat yet: a shrimpy teenaged girl hiding under a table]

[Despite Maya's expect hiding, Asher bangs his foot and somehow (but how!!) manages to spot her anyway. Her body seizes up, but about a second later, she recognizes his voice as Vanilla Ash's, and peeks through her fingers at him. Her eyes are a little red.]

Oh.... y-you're... the rapping guy?

[Cue pathetic sniffle. Technically, it was Jin rapping, not Asher... yet...]

[In her defense, his vision is quite clear, which makes his little accident all the more embarrassing.

He is horrified to find her here, crouched behind a desk with nobody else to keep an eye on her. Not only is she young, she doesn't strike him as someone who is combat ready, so this entire situation seems preposterous. Maybe she too came searching for clues in a desperate attempt to prove herself.

Or maybe she just needed a place to cry, all on her own.]

Yeah, that's me.

[No denial or irritation, he is exhausted and it shows in his voice, which is soft at the moment.]

You're not all by yourself, are ya?

[She almost doesn't hear his question with the yelling going on nearby -- another argument she assumes -- her eyes catching the trajectory of what she hopes was someone's shoe.

Wasn't the strangest thing she'd seen thrown in a riot before.]

Oui. [Yes. Her gaze swivels back to him.] Now let's get out of here before we get in more trouble.

I didn't say it was!

[ comes his response, a sharp whisper which maybe takes away from the way he wanted to deliver the remark... though at least he does quiet down again, breathing out through his nose as he runs a hand through his hair.

for the best. yeah. ]

... yeah. It's what the mission debrief says, right? Don't go out alone. [ which... okay, so maybe deciding to do some more investigating on his own after the sewer fiasco wasn't one of his brightest ideas. ]

So — did you find anything yet, or are you heading to see what they've got in the archives? [ looks like their plan of "not talking" has to be scrapped until they've got a clear plan... but at least whispering is better than speaking out loud. ]

[It's not as weird as some of the other things being thrown in the air. Shit, is that a bra?]

Wait, wait, wait, I...!

[He's thwapped in the back of the head by what appears to be a passerby's stray elbow, an unintentional mishap. Growling, Asher rubs the back of his neck with one slightly scuffed up hand.]

Mothereff-

[His head does a turn in an arbitrary direction, as if he's about to run as well.

No. Giving up is not an option, not this early on in the game.

Mid-motion, he shuts his eyes tightly, air traveling in and out of his lungs. Soon, he meets her gaze again, this time with timid sort of determination.]

I need to get to city hall.

[So long as she doesn't get hit by anything thrown -- or has anything thrown at her -- she's not in the business of really caring what gets tossed around.

The half step she's about to take is halted when he begins to speak again, worry flickering across her features a moment. But he recovers and she leans to the side to evade another flailing limb, scowling.

City hall?

She gives the crowd a once over, sighing out through her nose.]

I can help you get there, then.

[Well, she can't judge, she'd make the exact same kind of stumble... and probably has]

[Can't be both? She came in here because she wanted to help, she wanted to do something -- but seeing zombies and riots on TV is far, far different from dealing with them in real life. And it's scary. The honeymoon phase of ALISTAIR is over -- reality's sinking in. And it ain't pretty.]

[She quickly wipes at her eyes -- not that it's going to make a difference, then swallows and nods slowly]

Are you... investigating?

[Why else would he be here]

with so much drama in the industry;

RIOT; OTA*

CITY HALL, OPEN;

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sorry for the shortass tag rip

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VANILLA ASH

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ice ice baby