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About endwaar

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  1. "Ate? Oh, just... probably a few hours ago?" In all honesty, he wasn't sure when he'd last eaten, though he wasn't feeling especially hungry now, which meant it had probably been recently. He was reasonably sure. The chaotic yet harmonious decor didn't even raise an eyebrow from Tempest, who chuckled softly. She reminds me of my aunts. Scary thing is, I don't think I'm much younger than they were, or she is. He glanced in the direction of Amir's playpen, measuring his age against how old Zack would have been at the time. Yeah, she's probably about the age my aunts were when I was little. Strange, I thought that it was so old at the time, but now... nope. "A change of clothes? Um, I have my full costume, but nothing else, no. ... Why do you ask?" He was reasonably sure that he wasn't wearing anything that had gotten wet... and she'd have been able to remove the wetness even if he had fallen in the river.
  2. "I see..." Tempest nodded, unsure whether to be impressed or amused. "That's some devotion to the cause, definitely. To resurrect something so long gone. Well, maybe not so long, compared to some." He mused, rubbing his chin through his mask absently. Man they live in a nice part of town. Benefits of being a public superhero, I guess? He rolled his shoulders as he slipped out of the car. "You're from Socotra, then? A fascinating place, to be true, but... I fear I know little of what goes on there in an immediate way." He paused, before chuckling dryly. "I guess you are used to assassins, huh. I don't think that they want me dead. They want me alive, which is worse. I won't go back to being an experiment... but I don't know who wanted the experiments done, so I can't really say who's coming after me yet."
  3. The man's thoughts were jagged, cutting things, terrified and wary. However, Echohead's words seemed to get through to him, and he calmed slightly - enough for Echohead's question to penetrate the fog of terror that soured the man's thoughts. The horned man paused, breathing heavily, and stared at Echohead. "Y-you're not from the labs? I thought... they said it was a drink, but it was more... so much more." Echohead received images of the location of the club he had been seeking, of dancing flashy bodies, and of a barman serving drinks in the back. The phantom sensation of one of the drinks sizzled in his throat, and the images resumed in a dark lab, with needles and sharpness and- the thoughts cut off, the bone-barbed man shaking his head vigorously. "W-who are you then? Why are you here?"
  4. How relaxed is she about this? I guess that's the amazing thing about people whose identities are public. Tempest mused as he clambered into the car. "I, ah, don't mind at all. Music is something that I used to enjoy very much. I'm not as musical these days, but I still can appreciate the beauty of others' music." That was the truth. Ever since his... escape, he supposed, he'd had trouble playing the music that he'd once been able to easily do. At her explanation of the Liberty League's origins, Tempest's eyes tightened slightly. "Lucas? Is there any relation?" Even though inherited suffering was a distant thing to him now, he still felt the twinge of anger and grief of his people being obliterated. He thought for a few moments. "Was it decommissioned after the war ended? The League, I mean. So this would be the second Liberty League?" Her question gave him pause. "I have such a name, yes... but I generally don't hand it out to strangers. I'm a little concerned that some old... foes of mine might come hunting for those who are associated with my other name."
  5. Could I get a Diplomacy roll from you, Supercape? Also, I'll make sure to write in his thoughts soon - 'cause I totally missed that post.
  6. Tempest frowned, tilting his head. Can't have what? Me doing my best? He wondered wryly, floating towards her as she approached. "Charity or no, I appreciate your help." He paused, frowning slightly behind his mask. "Um, should I change into my full... eh, call it an outfit? A uniform? Whatever." He hadn't had time earlier, thinking there was a danger, but now that he was being presented to a... Liberty League, he wondered whether he should be more formal. Settling onto the ground, he followed Monsoon by foot, reminding himself that walking was important in keeping himself from deteriorating entirely. "The Liberty League, though... I feel like I should know more about them than I do. Or at least... remember things." His voice dropped glumly, and he shook his head slightly. No kidding. But that's life, at least. He pushed the thoughts away, smiling faintly.
  7. The barbed man's barbs twitched, extending into full-on horns, and he lifted the spike on his hand to his throat. "You can't make me go back! You with your needles and your sharp eyes and words! Nothing will make me go back!" He went quiet, his expression harsh. "Don't move! I'll die before going back there!" He flared with distress and terror at Kamala's words, and he flung out his other hand, a bone barb bursting from it and leveling at her. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
  8. "You could say that..." Tempest said wryly, recalling his own alarm at their fall. He bowed his head gravely at the child, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes. "Well, at least no one was harmed in this case. Other than my heart." He paused, eyeing her more closely. He'd spent the last month helping to clear out the wreckage from various places, though he hadn't fought to protect anyone, and it was still difficult to read people of Freedom, for whom it was a home. "I am new, more or less. I've been working on some things..." He shook his head, clearing the thoughts. "But now I'm here, and active. I don't know many people of our sort here, so I'm... just doing what I can, when I can." The fact that that never seemed like it was quite enough gave an edge to the words he hadn't intended.
  9. The horned man glanced up at Echohead, his eyes widening. "Y-you! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!" He flung out a hand, another spur erupting from his palm. "Stay where you are! I won't go back! I won't! I'll die before I go back!"
  10. Tempest tilted his head at this. Monsoon, huh... He didn't recognize the name, but that was unsurprising - he'd not spent much time studying heroes in his life. Well, he might've known it, but he wasn't remembering it. Regardless, he relaxed slightly as she put her sword down, releasing his mental tension for the moment. "No worries. I guess these things happen..." Though that was entirely new to him. "I'm called Tempest. Well, I would be called Tempest, if anyone knew of me, and if I were in my full costume, but... Tempest will do for now." He shrugged, floating slightly closer. A hydrokinetic, then. He realized as she removed some of the moisture from her son's carrier with more precision than he would likely be able to. "I take it you were not actually in danger, then. My apologies for interrupting your... bath? Outing?"
  11. "Sent me?" Tempest frowned behind his mask. "Whoa now." He floated a bit further from the dock on which they had landed. Clearly this city is insane. I've heard of villains and stuff, but waving a sword at one's savior seems a little bit crazy. He eyed her sword, wondering if she could even hurt him with that blade. It was possible, he decided, and kept carefully out of her sword's reach - by more than a few yards. "Is this a traditional Freedom City thank you, or something? 'cause I would be willing to swear that I just helped you, madam. So why don't we hold off with the swording of people and things and take a few minutes to talk?" Even as he asked, though, he focused his mind, preparing to gently take the child from her if she seemed even more unstable than she already was acting. It would not do to let her harm a child, even if the child was hers.
  12. Zack grimaced, glancing down at his civilian garb. He'd been out on a walk when he witnessed them go overboard, for lack of a better term, and now he needed to save them... ideally without causing too much of a fuss. No time for that now, he thought, and flung out his mind as best he could, fishing for them desperately with his telekinetic senses. If he found them, he would grasp them as gently as possible and pull them from the water. Otherwise, he glanced briefly around to ensure no one was looking at him, and slipped down off of the bridge, flying low and close to the water as he grabbed his bandanna-mask to obscure his features.
  13. "Superpower clubs?" The man's frown deepened. "We don't get those sorts of folks down here in the Fens. No big explosions, nothin'. Just us." He pursed his lips. Meanwhile his thoughts went to several different (and rather filthy) locations - one was a "bar" of sorts where the waiters and waitresses dressed in spandex and wore masks, but food wasn't all that they offered. Another was a place that offered highly erotic superhero costumes for reasonably cheap prices, and the third was the rumors surrounding a small dive on the river's edge. "Mind, if you're lookin' for something like that, you'd be best lookin' a few blocks from here." He waved his hand vaguely north. "Might be some over there." Echohead felt the man's thoughts, which were filled with sardonic irritation, and he knew the man intended to send him on a wild goose chase, so to speak, with his spoken words. His thoughts, however, might prove more useful.
  14. I'll definitely let you both know if I do that, or, failing that, when the next step in this little saga continues.
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