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 Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2011 8:50 am
There was nothing personal about this, which was hard to explain to the poor young man slowly slumping down to settle at Ilmenite's feet. Yes, he had a tendency to use energy harvesting as revenge against the dimwitted or unpardonably rude. Sometimes he used it on rich bitches full up on Daddy's money -- less because he wanted their money, and more because he wanted to show them how easy it was for someone to take that away.
Tonight, though, was a hundred percent pragmatism. It boiled down to one key trigger:
Ilmenite needed to get his hands on spray paint.
Not just a little bit of spray paint; he wanted more than one color, he wanted a rainbow of cans. He wanted a range of finishes. He wanted variety and, in all honesty, he had no idea where else to get it.
His wisest option seemed to be lurking around the industrial districted, where old factories had been long since boarded up and were now colored in splashes of deliberately applied color. Here, graffiti artists hauled in duffle bags full of supplies, setting up fresh canvas space and leaving their spectacular marks on a less-than-spectacular section of society. Many merely scrawled their tags in unintelligible script, but between the black rush jobs were pieces given more care, vibrant and beautiful and all the more amazing for their transience.
Ilmenite had interrupted one such masterpiece, and he didn't even seem to notice. He focused, instead, on catching the young man's head before it hit the asphalt, and stooping to poke through the bag to see what bounty he'd won.
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Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 2:00 pm
Kess, of course, was there for the art, not the energy harvest. The freckled delinquent had been running late to meet an old friend, Lem, though it was more the fault of a needy client than it was her own. The two were setting up to complete a project they'd been busy with for weeks. While the 'art' had been impeded by hooligans spraying the occasional, random obscenity over their prior work, most of the others that tagged for art, not gangs, had left it alone, willing to let it shape. It was looking fantastic.
Of course, her excitement faded at the sight of Lem's energy being pulled from his body, his grip on a golden yellow can relaxing until it hit the ground. Pulling up short, the blonde powered up, not quite willing to let a stranger see her true identity.
"Not cool, bro." Lieutenant Howlite's brows knit slightly as she interrupted the scene, eyes going from her passed out buddy to the Negaverse agent. He was digging through Lem's bag, examining his plethora of paints, and it was, perhaps, a good thing that she was both laid back, and on the same side as him.
"Those cans run four seventy-nine, plus tax, a pop." She pointed a finger at Lem. "He's a cool dude, and works hard on his tags." A slight pause, "Why're you stealing his paint?"
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2011 12:40 pm
The energy signal announced her before the words, enough to make Ilmenite's neck prickle, a warning of approach. For a split second he took it as a teleport, another officer appearing out of nowhere -- but no. Too low level for that. Too fresh. He tossed a can from one hand to the other, still crouched beside the bag, as he turned his head to take her in.
He could play at intimidating. Briefly. At first introduction, he could affect a calm, neutral expression, appraising the newer officer through narrowed eyes. Slowly, he stood, perhaps just to see their comparative sizes, get the full measure.
It was only brief, though. Then he smiled, sudden and too wide, thumbing the nozzle on the can of spray paint. "...because I need spray paint, it's like five bucks a pop, and I'm broke as s**t? It's okay. He'll live."
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Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2011 12:47 pm
"Yeah, so you're broke," Howlite didn't seem to particularly care, expression somewhat friendly as she shifted closer to eye Lem's bag. "So's he, and if you don't have your own paint, then I guarantee you're not anywhere as good as he is."
She didn't appear very intimidated. Whether that was stupidity, or a flaw in her personality was unclear. "What's your project?" Poor Lem would wake up exhausted and robbed, and s**t, it might even spark a larger fight with the other paint crews, if he thought they did it.
Still, Howlite didn't tell Ilmenite he couldn't take the cans.
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2011 8:41 am
What was his project? Ilmenite mulled that over, finally dropping the can back into the bag and reaching to pluck the one remaining from the poor kid's hands, as well. He zipped the bag up brusquely, neatly, and tossed it onto his shoulder. It was light enough, so long as he was in uniform...
"Anti-senshi propaganda." She didn't tell him that he could take the cans, and he was challenging her too, now: his eyebrows raised in a questioning way, posture too relaxed, fingers shifting around the strap. Lem was going to be in trouble either way when he woke up. And probably pissed off. If that was a problem for her...
"Why, you good with this stuff?"
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2011 11:29 am
"Yeah, I am." It was a casual statement of fact, followed by another, "I can afford the paint, too." In fact, she had a ton of it in her garage, in addition to the colors in her discarded bag, only a few yards away.
"Where are you hitting?" It was curiosity, mainly, her neutrality almost eerie. It was clear tor her that this Captain must not have had a well-thought out plan.
The two of them both appeared too lazy, their lanky frames relaxed and lazy eyes watchful. Howlite seemed almost amused.
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2011 1:43 pm
"Everything visible we can in a certain young lady's territory." Mostly, the problem was a lack of artistic skill; Ilmenite's plan involved scrawled words on the sides of buildings, vans. Simple and not fancy in the least. A stencil, though -- he'd seen some of those, and they'd not only make it easier, but also more recognizable. Not a bad idea. She might be able to see the gears turning behind his eyes, considering.
He shifted the conversation, carefully stepping over the young man's body and away, still hanging onto the bag. She could always bring more, if she wanted to. Or, if she had that much paint, she could replenish what Lem had lost... "Who the hell are you?"
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Posted: Wed Oct 12, 2011 4:05 pm
"Lieutenant Howlite," She reached out a hand in greeting, apparently unbothered by his tone, her thoughts instead on what must've flashed through his equally dark eyes. "I work directly under General Uranophane, and occasionally with my friend, General Fluorite."
She felt establishing her connection in the complicated hierarchy of the Negaverse was necessary, to place her. After all, different generals had entirely different ways of doing things.
He had said 'we', not 'I'.
"Who is we? Do you need help?" Apparently, her concerns for Lem were not based in morality, since despite any personal feelings she may have had, she didn't attempt to convince the captain to return the spraypaint. That was definitely not her thing.
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 3:25 pm
Hand in hers immediately with his well-practiced handshake, surprisingly strong considering how informas he was about most things, Ilmenite opened his mouth to answer and --
hesitated. Came up short. His eyebrows pulling together, pale, in the middle of his forehead.
"...General Fluorite?" Ilmenite couldn't help it. There was a genuine flicker of annoyance in his tone when he asked it. This was Zink and Fluorite, one right on top of each other, and him left holding his d**k -- metaphorically speaking, of course. He'd never really worried about the promotions before, the rank, but...that rankled. Just a little bit.
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 3:36 pm
Howlite's expression, to her credit, didn't flicker as a sort of bitter surprise took Ilmenite over. It didn't seem as if he was particularly angry, and one might assume that he'd gotten passed over for a promotion in favor of Fluorite, if this was the real military, and not the Negaverse.
As it was, Howlite didn't really think it worked that way, as she'd yet to see anyone 'competing' for positions. Either way, it really was none of her business.
"Yeah," she confirmed, "I ran a mission with her last week, and she was rocking a new power vibe and outfit."
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 4:09 pm
"Well. ********." At least he was honest about it, and at least he bounced back quickly, blinking into focus on Howlite's face and dragging that twitch of a smile to his mouth. It wasn't a terribly convincing smile, but to be fair, it hadn't been to begin with.
"Captain Ilmenite. And I probably don't need help, Alunite and I should be able to manage on our own, though I wouldn't mind a bit of input for, you know." He took his hand back, gesturing vaguely and hiking the bag properly onto his shoulder. "Style. I'm not great with style. Just attitude."
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 6:44 pm
"You're doing this with Alunite?" She laughed, a genuine sort of sound, and when she shook herself free of a humor, a reckless grin lingered on her freckled face. "I reckon you might need a little help, indeed."
Matthew - Alunite, now, was a great guy, but he was definitely not the most artistic. Ask him about your computer problems, a hard gaming level, or a great cup a tea, and he was solid.
"If you want the right message, it's got to look good, man."
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 9:10 pm
"I don't know about that. I can usually get my message across, and I generally look like s**t." It wasn't digging, or concerned; it came across friendly and frank and...well, to be fair, it was true. In his patched clothing, his battered boots, nothing that fit right, Ever usually came across looking more like a charity case than anything else, and at a glance, people probably wondered if he was okay. Until he opened his mouth.
Ilmenite looked better, of course, and now even his bruising had faded to about nothing. He shrugged at her, gesturing vaguely for her to come with him, just in case his downed painter came to again. "...but it can help, I guess. Mostly I want it to be insulting, so ugly's not a problem. If it looks like a four year old did it, that could be even worse, couldn't it?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 10:30 am
"Getting it across, and doing it effectively aren't the same thing," It was an observation, not a judgement, and she grinned, stooping slightly to pick up her own, previously discarded bag. There was no telling how long it'd be before Lem awoke, or someone happened upon them, so it was best that they both get a move on.
"It's gotta be provocative, unique. Easy to swallow, or else folks will forget about or dismiss it." She shrugged, again. "Y'want it to stick with them." A vulgar message was fine for shock value, but easily ignored by most. What they needed was something the average person would be unable to disagree with, that would make them think, and would influence their minds.
It sounded complex, but it really wasn't. It was simply a design choice. There was a place for insults, and a place for persuasion, as Ilmenite was probably very aware.
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Posted: Sun Oct 16, 2011 1:56 pm
"I guess, if you're going for the masses." He shrugged, a shoulder twitching upward quickly, long legs stretched out -- and damnit, the lieutenant was probably going to be able to keep up with him. Ilmenite was used to being able to stretch out like that and leaving people trotting in his wake. A small exercise in power he'd never even realized he did...
A quick, sideways look to her, and his mouth twitched again, wry. Not sure if he should be embarrassed or annoyed. "I'm not trying to convince the people of anything. I'm trying to show the Blood Moon Court that Birhan's incompetent. Wouldn't a sloppy, lazy job be more of a slap in the face, in that case? Just enough to show we were there..."
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