( closed-ish? )

[moneyman]

CHARACTERS: Vaughn and some other dudes
DATE: March?? Just March, all over the place
WARNINGS: Borderlands, Mettaton
SUMMARY: Hermit crabs and looting and some light shanking, nbd

[ prompts in the comments—feel free to leave me a wildcard! ]

Comments

mettaton

[moneyman]

[ Mettaton's been having a rough time. he fried half his face, and... well, shit, does there really need to be another reason? he fried his goddamned face. it's fixed now, but Vaughn still feels bad. bad enough to actually invite him over to hang out. the two of them got off on a weird foot, but they're friends now. friends hang out, right? yeah. they're hanging out.

the apartment he shares with Olivia is a tiny studio. they don't have a lot of things, but it's clean and cutely decorated, thanks to her. a golden retriever (spoilers: it's a cloaked lion) snores unconcernedly on the couch, and in a corner, there's a small tank with a hermit crab in it. ]

Sooo yeah, make yourself at home! Sorry there's... nowhere to sit, really. Uh.

[ they probably should have hung out somewhere else. ]

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[To be perfectly honest, Mettaton originally had no intention of coming here.

It's... not an easy thing for him, to open up. Oh, he's MORE than happy to talk about himself!! His talents, his looks, his fame, his fortune, his fans! ...but anything deeper than that has always been. Uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Stars don't have the time to be vulnerable. They're perfect. Being shallow is just a part of the job; who wants to relate and aspire to be someone complicated?

So... the original offer was met with skepticism. It's just pity. Worse, it's a trap! Or even some sort of pity trap. Maybe it's revenge for Dream Phone. Maybe Vaughn invited that terrible, nosy robot who wants nothing more than to psychoanalyze him and Mettaton will have to throw himself out of a window to escape their nefarious, intrusive scheme.

But. Vaughn has thus far proven to be nothing but sweet. He's a bit nerdy, but cruel doesn't seem to be a part of his DNA. When he's offering to be nice, there isn't a goal aside from just... being nice.

So. Here Mettaton is.

He's going to deny the childish gasp he makes the instant he steps into the room.]

You have a snail! [And it's PINK!! This is the most important thing in the room, sorry. He's already there, marveling at the tank.]

[moneyman]

[ "a bit nerdy," sure. just a bit. he'll take it. to be fair, Mettaton only met him briefly before his grand transformation into... slightly less of a nerd, so maybe that's why. he used to be a lot worse, but he's a little better at keeping it under wraps now. or maybe he's just confident enough these days that it's harder to notice?

whatever. as long as he's not into anime, right? ]

A snail? [ that's... well, it's an easy mistake to make. maybe they don't have crabs where Mettaton comes from. I mean, it kind of looks like a snail... ] Oh, no, he's a hermit crab, actually! He just... randomly showed up one day, habitat and all. A gift from ALASTAIR, I guess.

[ woulda been cool to get something actually useful, but he did want a pet of his own. he wasn't really planning on a crab, but hey. they've been bonding. ]

[ex_mettacrusher33]

...Ah. [Mettaton frowns as, on cue, tiny claws emerge from the shell to help the creature inside scuttle about. That's... Well, not disappointing. Of course it isn't disappointing. What reason would he ever have to get excited about snails? They're shy, slow things that always set on fire the harder you cheer for them and they take too much work to keep happy. Why would he care about a snail?

...Hmph.

Gingerly, he taps at the glass. It has a cute, spiral shell, like some sort of Marstonia. Maybe that's where it got its own shell from. Hermit crabs don't make their own shells, do they?]

Does he have a name?

lilith

[moneyman]

[ the DollarClub: a veritable smorgasbord of reasonably priced items in excessive quantities. or at least, it was, until the whole zombie virus thing happened and people lost their collective shit. there was no one at the door checking membership cards anymore. the cheap pizza was all gone. the massive shelves were close to empty after weeks of frenzied looting.

...still, it was worth a look. anything even remotely approaching 'fresh' was long gone by now, of course, but there had to be a few hidden gems left over, right?

for example, Vaughn's found a six-pack of giant boxes of milkbones. he holds it up, looking a little unsure. ]

Do you think a dog would eat these if he was actually a lion?

[ bet you've never heard that before, Lilith. ]

olivia

[moneyman]

[ this had become something of a routine. ever since he'd (quite literally) caught Olivia collapsing from exhaustion in the riots, sapped almost completely dry from the overuse of her powers of healing and empathy, they'd made a compromise: she could help to her heart's content (read: until she could literally do no more), but once she started to falter, she had to hold on to him. it made it easier to carry her home that way when she inevitably passed out. he hated it, truthfully—watching her grow weaker and weaker was painful, but it made her happy to help, and he didn't have the heart or the right to deny her that. thus, it wasn't a lack of trust that kept him from letting her out of his sight as time went on, but an agreement that if and when she fell, he would catch her.

the fighting has been especially bad today. more and more people were becoming personally affected by the virus and the chaos of the quarantine, and so emotions were running higher and higher—anger, more often than not. it leaves him on edge even more than he usually is during these riot shifts. maybe that's why he's keeping an eye on her more closely, letting less time elapse before he starts following her; these people are hurting, he knows, but they aren't in their right minds, and some of them were undoubtedly infected themselves.

whether the guy staggering toward her is one of them or not doesn't matter. he's not great at hand-to-hand and he has no weapon to make up for it, but that doesn't matter, either. an intense rush of dread and adrenaline sends him tearing through the crowd, aiming for somewhere vaguely between them, not quite sure what he'll do once he gets there but not quite caring, either. his self-preservation instincts have gone flying out the proverbial window. he'll figure it out once he gets there.

he still doesn't know whether the man in question is infected, even once he's right in front of his face, but the sudden, searing pain in his side answers that question for him: it still doesn't matter. he must have seemed like a threat himself, running at the other man like that—maybe that's why he just got a little bit stabbed. it's hard to tell, what with the pain and the shock and the disbelief that the dude's already shuffling off in another direction like nothing just happened. must have been in self-defense, he tells himself, as he hunches over, clinging to a parked car with one hand and holding his now decidedly bloody side with the other.

weakly, he laughs a little—maybe out of shock, or maybe because he's weird—and, after glancing over to make sure Olivia's still okay, he slides to the ground in a heap, not unconscious but not all there, either.

he tried. ]

[winces]

[ she had been five feet away from the other man by the time vaughn intervenes. it's unclear now whether or not the knife had been meant for her, or for anyone at all; with how quickly the man shuffles away, it could well be that he had not meant anyone any harm until he felt himself threatened, and that perhaps, had vaughn stalled a moment longer, this all could have been avoided...

or olivia herself could be the one curled up on the ground, bleeding out of her side.

by the time she turns around, she catches only the last second of the interaction. a flash of the man's back, a glint of his knife, and then vaughn sliding down to the ground as bright crimson starts to pool beside him. her breath catches in her throat, and instnatly she feels a flash of her own pain, a sharp piercing in her chest that she knows is not due to any physical knife, or magical empathy. ]

—Vaughn!!

[ her shout is easily swallowed up by the raging crowd around them, and even though she were only a handful of feet away, the movement of bodies quickly cuts her off from him, till she is left frantically shoving others away just so she can get to his side. her hands are a fluttery, uncertain mess, drifting from his face to his side, till eventually she can only hold him close to her, struggling to keep her own rising panic at bay. it is a lot of blood, but her rational mind informs her that it is not enough, not yet. there is time.

but she has already used so much of her energy today, healing injuries ranging from minor to major with little discern. ]

It's okay, you'll be okay, [ she is quick to tell him, even as she her magic stutters and struggles to heal him as quickly as she would like to.

all around them the chaos continues, messing with her concentration, already unraveling from the fear that persists. ]

[moneyman]

[ even in his weakened, confused state, he can make the assumption that he brought this upon himself. the chances that guy would have gone for Olivia were low, probably; it was his own sudden, fiercely protective panic that got him into this situation, and now she was going to have to take care of it, and it would weaken her, too.

what an idiot.

he lets himself slump against her as she holds onto him. so much for being heroic. ]

...Sorry. [ he's murmuring, trying to keep his mind off the pain and the weird sense of defeat that almost feels worse. ] I thought... [ he inhales sharply. her healing is starting to work a little, but it stings. a lot. he holds on to her a bit tighter, though not enough to hurt her. he doesn't have the strength to begin with. ] I dunno what I thought. I'm sorry.

[winces]

[ she barely hears him, really, given how the shouting and rioting seems to grow louder still all around them. she holds him close, pressing one hand to his wound, the other to the side of his head in what might have been a comforting gesture, had the rest of her body not begun to tremor in her mounting panic and frustration. ]

You were wonderful, [ she takes care to reassure him, managing a smile even as more magic and energy leaks out of her. ] Thank you for being so brave.

[ it didn't matter much what might have happened — just what did. regardless if she were in any real danger or not, he still acted to try and prevent it. it still means quite a lot.

but the more the crowds grow restless, the more she can feel what little concentration she had left start to slip from her. she knows she cannot continue to heal him with all these distractions, not an injury of this extent. she tries her meditations, her calming breaths at first — in and out, out and in — but seconds tick by and they do nothing.

finally, when she feels herself quite ready to burst — she does. ]

Will you stop?!

[ like a ripple of non-energy, the crowd around them suddenly quiets. expressions slacken, a thick blanket of calm draping over most within the immediate area. an eerier silence around them follows, and though shouts and rioting still occur past that, there is a strange sensation of being in a bubble, at least for the moment.

olivia lets out a ragged breath, the pulse of empathy taking a large chunk out of her energy, but at last, finally, she is able to think. clinging to this renewed focus, she works on healing the rest of his injury without any further word. ]

wildcard for the wildcard

[figureitout]

[ ordinarily, when your doorbell rings and you open the door to find someone dressed in the uniform of a police cadet, it's usually not a particularly reassuring sight. this time, however, Vaughn is in luck, as the cadet (or, you know, "cadet" as he's not... actually one, he just didn't have time to take off the disguise that has served him well for the past few days) in question greets him with a grin. ]

Hey, man! Is Olivia in?

[ because he's got a book to deliver to her!!

... granted, maybe he should have just checked ahead with the magitek, but who thinks ahead?? (the guy who always plans ahead, that's who, let's just count this as a by-product of his general exhaustion as of late.) ]

[moneyman]

[ even the vaguely familiar grin catches him off-guard for a moment—it's hard not to notice the uniform first. he almost blanches, but he catches himself, and smiles back instead, opening the door wider in invitation. ]

Oh, hi! Stiles, right? Long time no see. She's not, unfortunately... I'm assuming she's not in trouble? [ he waves that off before there's even a chance to respond. of course she's not in trouble, what the hell. ] Is it something I can help you with, by any chance?

[figureitout]

[ he may be exhausted, but he isn't exhausted enough to miss that slight pause before Vaughn's brain catches up with him — Stiles glances down at himself, seeming to realize how he's dressed and winces. ]

Shit, sorry, I totally forgot about this — [ he tries to smooth the front of the uniform, realizes it has absolutely nothing to do with anything and isn't helping and promptly stops. excuse his awkward everything... ]

But... right, yeah. Stiles, that's me. [ G OD ] Uh, good to see you, man. I just dropped by to give her a book, but... I guess I can just leave it with you.

[moneyman]

No, no, don't worry about it! I mean, I know you, so there was really no reason for me to assume one of us was in trouble. If it was a cop I didn't recognize, then we might have had a problem. [ he motions for Stiles to come in if he's so inclined. ] Feel free to stop in and take a break, by the way. You seem a little stressed out.

maya

[moneyman]

[ he was expecting chaos when he came to the hospital. it'd be stupid not to—the only places that might be worse are the city streets around the hospital, where riots were still erupting at an increasingly frenetic pace. there's slightly more order inside the hospital, but it's kind of offset by the threat of a larger number of infected people. kind of a lose-lose situation, really, but there are people to visit and people to help. this cure business is a lot of work, and today he has blood to give. it's the best he can do.

it's not a huge surprise when he passes by the cafeteria and hears a girl yelling. people are sick, people are stressed, and the food probably sucks. he almost ignores it, but it sounds... familiar, somehow. so he stops to glance inside, and his suspicions are confirmed: it's Maya, snowball assassin and homework slacker.

she's making a huge scene. it's a little worrisome, so he shuffles quickly to her side, dropping a hand on her shoulder, voice low and seriously concerned. ]

Hey, hey, what's going on? Are you sick? Do you need a hug?

[ at least he knows his place in this crisis. ]

[feytality]

[Well, Maya, aka: homework slacker and snowball assassin, is strictly business today. She's here to aid with the hospital investigation, and what better way to do that than putting her finest skills to use?]

[That is, being loud and annoying]

I am sick! [She yells passionately, slamming her hands on the table and igniting the will of the people] of this food! It's awful and I won't stand for it anymore!

Who's with me????

[She doesn't need hugs, Vaughn, she needs a menu, stat]

[moneyman]

[ he's able to put two and two together soon enough, fortunately. he knows people are infiltrating the hospital for information, and who better to cause a massive, distracting scene than Maya? she's doing a fantastic job.

he's going to try to help. he clears his throat. ]

—Oh, uh. Me! [ he points dramatically towards the kitchens, apologizing profusely in his head to the poor staff who are having to deal with this. ] I mean, what is going on in there, right!? Sick and injured people still have working tastebuds! If anything, they—uh, we deserve even better-tasting food than the healthy! You know, for... having to put up with... being sick and/or injured. [ he coughs. ] Frankly, it's an outrage.

[ he clearly didn't sign up for this. ]

i thought i tagged this wtf

[feytality]

[Vaughn's quick on the uptake, and even if his acting skills aren't up to par, Maya appreciates him trying. They can't all be Oscar-nominated Mayas like her]

[Besides, her fervour's whipped up a crowd to support her crazy ideals, so no one can really notice Vaughn's shot at acting]

Exactly! [She then takes Vaughn's hand and... slams it on the table, too!! Not hard, but it's for effect] Don't you think patients suffer enough?! Now you have to poison them with awful food, too?! Think of the patients! They deserve to eat good food!

[a chant starts up in the background]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/ba/66/23/ba6623de3084c7752abe0d2323ddca28.gif

[dishearten]

( woodhurst is not an easy city to exist in these days. worse still, if one happens to work for the police department. between the town going mad and the riots still persisting, it's rather difficult to scrape by unscathed. Graham has done fairly well on that account, though — though the man he'd escorted to the emergency room couldn't quite boast the same. the fellow had dove through window in attempts to find something to eat, hinting at infection, though there wasn't much Graham could do but bring him to the hospital.

though they seemed to have more than enough people crowded into the emergency room. he delivers the man to the nurses and sees him attended to, and though he could leave he lingers. he hopes to spot Olivia somewhere, he knows that she works in the hospital somewhere. he's fussing with his watch, perhaps to send a message, when he notices someone staring. ah, that is likely because using a watch to communicate in the 90s is rather bizarre.

not recognizing the man, Graham flubs, ) Just setting it back. It's always slow. ( it's a decent lie, actually; being heartless makes it a little too easy. he couldn't guess he's talking to a fellow member of Audentes just by looking at him. )

welcome!!

[moneyman]

[ he may not be an expert at reading people, but between the suspicion that this guy is messing with a piece of magitek and the odd, unsolicited excuse he gets for his staring, he's pretty confident he's sharing space with a teammate. he nods, feigning acceptance of the lie, and then glances around. it's noisy and crowded enough in there for him to justify approaching the other man, so he does, casually sidling up to him. ]

It's fine, don't worry. I know you're one of us. [ ...he's like 90% sure. if he's wrong, he'll just play it off. somehow. ] Are you waiting for someone?

please forgive my fashionable lateness

[dishearten]

( his shoulders seem to tilt downward, not quite relaxed (he'd have needed to be tense for that), though a decent enough sign that the words bear some comfort. Graham has been a member of ALASTAIR far too long at this point, but he's still not perfect at recognizing every face he sees. especially newer members. still, they're in this battle together, even a hint that he's talking to a teammate makes conversation a little easier. )

I'm hoping to spot Olivia. I believe she works here. ( Graham doesn't keep up on most interpersonal interactions amongst the teams, to say the least. still, who doesn't know who Olivia is? ) Graham. By the way.

never!!!

[moneyman]

Oh! [ he smiles, though he didn't really mean to. he can't help it these days. ] Same, actually. Don't worry, you're in the right place. She tends to be busy, what with... [ he makes a subtle hand gesture towards the moderate chaos around them. ] —you know, things being like this, but we can probably catch her at some point. I usually do.

[ he offers the same hand in greeting. ] Vaughn. Nice to meet you. Do you need her for something, or are you just saying hi?

giovanni (finally, jesus)

[moneyman]

[ getting stuck in traffic sure sucks, doesn't it? maybe foot traffic isn't as bad as car traffic, but when the people involved are rioting, it makes it a little more complicated. getting to the hospital involves some delicate weaving, dodging, and side-stepping through raucous crowds—to be honest, he's gotten pretty adept at it at this point, but it's still annoying and sad. mostly sad.

he checks in on what's happening at the hospital (and the people he cares about who work there) most days. his job at the electronics store was relatively brief—turns out people don't give a shit about printers during the zombie apocalypse—so he spends most of his time trying to help people out who have more skills than he does. it's rough not having any cool powers.

...especially on a day like today. the riots are bad—worse than usual, anyway. he can only imagine it'll continue to escalate, and so it's in his best interest to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. fortunately, that's when he spots someone he's relatively sure he's seen in Audentes uniform before. the guy is much taller and much more intimidating-looking than him; maybe it's in the interest of self-preservation that he sidles with moderate difficulty over to him, looking a little panicked. ]

Hey, uh... do you mind if I stick next to you until we get out of this? [ it feels so stupid to ask such a thing of a complete stranger, but he's alone, and he'd kind of like to not be alone right now. ] Where are you headed?

<3!!

[ofobedience]

[For his part, Giovanni cuts through the riots like a finely-honed blade, the roiling overspill of violence only acting to fill him with a dark kind of music, bones buzzing from the hard ugly energy of it all. It's a beautiful thing, all of this-- it would be so easy to give himself over to it, to hurl himself into the deep red centre, guns blazing and laughter ringing out and the pleasure he'd feel, it would be transcendent.

But he doesn't do that. Instead he keeps it all inside of himself, tightly reined, fiercely controlled, for all that outwardly he maintains the appearance of perfect calm, even when he's breaking up the worst of the fights or disabling the madding infected. He's come late to it, perhaps, but there are people here who have expectations of him, and he's trying his level best to adhere to those expectations. Maybe he doesn't fully comprehend their reasoning, still thinks his own cold brand of mercy would be better suited here, but he can follow the path of their thoughts at least, can agree to hold himself back until they know for sure whether these people can still be helped. Whether there'll be a cure.

And in truth, small and quiet though the thought is, he wants the cure to come to fruition as much as the rest of them. He has his own reasons for this.

This is how Vaughn finds him. Cool and calm and slipperysmooth in the middle of all this violence, and when he sidles up beside warhound and poses his meek questions, Giovanni turns with an expression of mild surprise, looks down at him with a canine cant of the head. It takes him a moment, but he thinks he's seen this guy around, believes him to be one of theirs. As such, he flashes him a razor-edged smile. Full of too-sharp teeth.]

What's the matter, too much excitement for you?

[He shakes his head as though brushing the comment away.]

But you can stick with me, if you like. Just don't expect me to hold your hand. Hahah. I'm not going anywhere in particular-- just out for a stroll. There's somewhere you need to be?

[Because yes he's chosen to place himself in the path of the riots, quite deliberately.]

[moneyman]

[ haha, wow, those sure are some teeth, aren't they? he knows Giovanni's not smiling at him in a friendly kind of way, but he finds himself smiling back awkwardly anyway.

this guy could probably rip him in half. ]

Uhh, yeah, a little bit. [ he shrugs sheepishly. he's all about excitement, honestly, but trying to power through a bunch of people yelling and trying to beat the shit out of each other isn't his idea of a good time. ] I really appreciate it. No hand-holding required.

[ he looks a little alarmed when he hears Giovanni's "just out for a stroll." while that is an impressive level of badassery, it's also... incredibly dangerous. this dude does not mess around, clearly. ]

—Oh, I'm trying to get to the hospital. You're just out here taking a walk in this? Is that, uh... something you do often?

[ofobedience]

[The awkward smile, the sheepish shrug-- what a meek little man this is, and almost Giovanni finds him funny. The people dragged into this mess, into ALASTAIR's dubious employment, they're a ragtag bunch with little cohesion and even now as he feels something is beginning to gel in him, it seems a strange thing. That this idiosyncratic bunch could ever really be called a 'team'.

No matter. He's learning, step by step, day by day, that it takes all sorts. That the kind of cold bright order he's accustomed to isn't the only way to get things done.

So he keeps smiling, feels magnanimous, makes a small forward motion with his hand that's intended to encourage the man to follow him.]

I know the way. Come along, then. We'll have a good time.

[Or you know...he will.]

And yes, more or less. I'm with the police force whilst we're here, you see, and so my presence is often requested. But even when it isn't...well. It's more fun out here than it is languishing around inside, don't you think? Even if I've been forbidden from killing them.

[Another bright glance at his new companion, the sharp edges of his smile still in place.]

I'm Giovanni, by the way.