as written by Kittsy and Verse
Velle's Beginning.
"One.. two... jump!"
Interstellar jet-lag failed to take charge of the tiny female that made quick work of the iron steps she was meant to descend from, opting to rebel the rules that continued to resonate from the open carrier behind her. A few short leaps was all it took for her to greet the comfort of home beneath her, a satisfied heave of air expelling from her chest as she moved past crowds of passerby's, all-too eager to be rid of the traveling life, if only for a little while. Despite the trouble that kept itself cleverly hidden within the details of her last line of duty, Velle felt an invigorating energy envelope her as she made it to the outside world, the exuberant sun casting an all-too welcoming light directly into her field of vision. The silver glasses that framed her doll face were then gone in an instant, folded neatly in one hand as the other moved to comb through the erratic violet bangs licking her forehead.
The young prodigy had a few destinations in mind before heading home; Documents, first and foremost, needed to be signed and returned to the distributor in question. Second, she needed to meet with...
A terrifying growl ripped through her body, starting from her smooth belly and working its roaring way into her unsuspecting eardrums. Velle stopped in her tracks, limbs moving to cradle her abdomen in sudden agony. Everything around her seemed to vanish in that moment- Buildings melted into gray puddles on the ground, the periwinkle sky bled black and harbored no stars. Everything was void and unimportant compared to the feeling that now rocked her to her core.
"I've not had anything to eat since last evening.." The honey-dripped soprano that sang from her lips crackled with a ravenous hunger, meshing a wicked harmony with the growling that continued to make its presence known. She could practically feel steaming soup as it sank to her stomach, revel in the umami of a hot, home-cooked meal. And she knew just the place to indulge in!
Skittery footsteps planned a route long before she could do it herself, taking her through the large city's inner workings to her tiny corner of delight. Velle soon found herself within one of many plazas harbored within Westeria, though this niche by far was favored.
Footfalls stooped short a couple of feet in front of the dainty entrance to the restaurant, with the femme taking a moment to soak in a breath that offered up the scent of the meal she would soon devour. After passing through the ringing door, she immediately sat within a small cornered booth, a seat that was meant for a regular like herself. A waitress of short stature strode towards her, eager to take down Velle's order.
~Approximately 45 minutes later.~
The once clean tabletop was now littered with various folders and individual files pertaining to the work that kept the young Kanahashi busy, each of them strategically situated around her lunch-ware. One hand kept a firm grip on a pink drink set firm at her mouth as she kept her gaze focused on her work. Lost in her work, she was content to give absolutely no attention to her surroundings, even as customers occupying the restaurant began to rise from their seats, cautiously peering into the large windows that dominated the front wall.
"Is that.. oh my god, that's fire!"
Velle had no time to digest the words that sputtered out of someone's lips before a surge of piercing light scraped against the glass, followed by an earth-shattering explosion as the windows were no more. Screams mangled the scene as people began to scatter like fearful ants, pushing one another for the safety of their own lives. In a startle, the amethyst female sprung from her seat, important documents taking the back burner as she fought against civilians to make her way outside.
Two fingers quickly pushed the bridge of her glasses closer to her nose as she took in the situation flaming before her. And flaming it was, the center of the plaza alight in chaos. Velle wasted no time in coming to aid those whom had trouble escaping, quickly helping the fallen to their feet and to safety.
____
Jeremy Reigns had been in Westeria for a few weeks, now, leaving only when he deemed it necessary. This world without Greg was dull and lifeless, far worse than Wing City had been before. Many hadn't noticed the difference in the city, the new atmosphere, the aesthetic changes along the skyline, and the general population at that. Knowing no one, and still remaining in mostly utter disbelief at life around him, he remained locked in his ruddy apartment day after day, night after night, leaving only when he had to for restocking groceries. Not even his habit was much of a habit anymore. Highs weren't worth the fallout after, and burning through his entire stash wasn't worth the little money he had left. The cross-over had cost him his job. Somehow this apartment had been paid forward for the next thirty six years from some crimson haired man who was all about charitable work. So with no bills to pay on his residence, he was capable of living for sometime with the money he had stashed under his mattress. Ten thousand in cash, because he hadn't trusted it to the banks. In this instant, it was a surprisingly ironic stroke of luck that he hadn't.
As he sat huddled in his bed he realized, though, that he needed to restock on some food necessities today. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to welcome that twisted amalgamation of fiction, inconsistency, and absolute madness into his sights again, it meant admitting, once again, that it was all very, very, real. As he rose from his bed, he stumbled some, in a weakened state. No light, hardly any food, and little drink over the past three weeks had left him frail. It wasn't much better that his time in Wing City had thinned him, either. His initial arrival there had been met with much hilarity, his persona rather intact, despite the crazed amount of disbelief he held.
He crossed the floor, digging into his dirty clothes to find an outfit that manged to stink the least, laundry having gone undone since he'd crossed, and found himself an outfit. A few sprays of Axe and a spritz of cologne had him smelling mostly decent. A cigarette pack with a collection of spliffs was promptly shoved into his pocket before he snagged his wallet and a a handful of twenties from the roll of bills he had stashed before he left his apartment.
His wandering around the city had brought him to an unfrequented plaza, one he only ever truly ventured through one previous time in his bid to understand this new city. Glancing around it, he ushered forth a sigh before adapting a visage that was hard to determine as sincere or merely a facade. His eyes caught sight of a nearby diner and he sauntered his way in before taking a seat a few booths in, tucked in a corner where the lighting was dim and he was much to himself. Though he held a smile, eyes bloodshot from the few he'd already smoked, one could see the deep seeded troubles he had. "Uh, yeah. So like, hey dude. This. This here. I'll take that. Can't pronounce the stuff, though. Looks hella bangin', though." He commented, offering a cheesey grin of sorts. Despite his displeasure with his current life, he still could appreciate food when stoned. It was a luxury he'd never get tired of. His situation, grim, though came to mind and he fell into a fit of giggles before suddenly burying his face into his hands in lament.
He'd missed the girl that had taken her place at the window what had to have been fifteen minutes, or so, prior to him, but when he caught sight of her, his brow rose in acute interest. She was pretty attractive, but unbelievably young in appearance. It was a shame, too. He'd have rocked that body if it were about five years older, or so. Shame. He took the coming time to twiddle his fingers, play paper football with the table condiments and napkins, and whatever else it was he could think of to occupy his time until his food was ready, but it was as he began to doodle on his napkins with a pen that the chaos sprung up. As people began to yammer, and a sudden cry of fire echoed out, Jeremy's eyes widened and he leaned out from his booth to see the commotion. There were fires, alright. Sliding out of his seat, he swiftly crossed the floor, in all his stoned glory, with intents to press himself to the glass. As he came within feet, though, the explosive reaction that shattered the windows swiftly knocked him flat, spraying him with glass and embedding some of it in his outfit and a few pieces in his cheek.
"Ughhhn..." He groaned, rolling onto his side and staggering to his feet. His ears were ringing and he was in a seriously intense stupor, a few waves of vertigo hitting him like a brick upside the head. Staggering around, he realized he'd been the only one left int he establishment. How long had he been out? A few seconds? Minutes? Stumbling his way out, he cleared the glass from his outfit and picked out the pieces that had lodged into his cheek before wandering around outside to take in the view. The plaza wasn't just in flames, the entire city was. A winged nightmare could be spotted in the distance, as could jets and other minuscule projectiles. Smoke billowed into towering plumes and he found his mind a whir once again as panic gripped him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I can't handle this shit. I should be in Arizona right now! Toking up and sippin' a Forty with Greg while blasting Flood faggots in Halo. Jesus fucking Christ!" He spat out, digging his fingertips into his hair and holding his head tight. He'd had enough of this shit. It was too much for a guy like him to handle. Too much for someone who couldn't acclimate to the bizarre and outlandish reality that was The Omniverse.
Catching sight of the smokin' young girl he'd seen earlier, he caught sight of yet another flaming sphere of slag descending from the heaven's as the creature made another round. He wasn't a hero, but he could tell already that it was bound to strike the vicinity and if they didn't clear out now they wouldn't live. Taking a deep breath he took off at a dead sprint, whistling with a few fingers betwixt his lips as loud as he could. She seemed to be helping someone, but it looked as if they'd taken serious damage to their leg. A few different outcomes crossed his mind, but none where all three of them lived. "Hey, hey hey! Run, run! Fucking run!" He spat out, hollering at the top of his lungs. Reaching out for her, he did the best he could to grab at her arm and drag her along, forcefully if he had to. "It's us two, or all three of us die! Say a prayer when it's done..." He spit out, doing as best he could to drag her from harms way and over what appeared to be a concrete ornament foundation that housed potting soil for the plants that grew in it. Roughly about the time he clambered over it, her in tow hopefully, was the time the flaming sphere of brimstone struck the ground, the cries of the helpless individual who didn't make it snuffed out with the resulting cacophonous impact. Again his ears rang for a brief moment, but soon came to as he lingered there.
"You gonna be aight?" He questioned, his voice a trembling mess as he fumbled into his pack for a spliff. He could hardly grab it, though, as his hand continued to quake with the force of a thousand terrified critters. Having stuck it in his mouth, he lit it before taking a huge rip of it, courteously blowing the smoke off to the side. He just wasn't cut out for this...
____
Day after day, millions of people -willing and unwilling- lose their lives to the Gods above as millions more are joyously brought into the world. It was the simple, common cycle of life and death, something Velle was aware of at a young age. People are born, they live out their life- whether it's full of vigor and wonder or perhaps, a boring whelp of an existence, and when they're old and petrified.. They die. The soul gently caresses its body into a final slumber before slipping away to join countless others in their one last "goodnight."
But not like this. Innocent people should not be taken from this world in such a manner as to be... incinerated. Just the thought of it sent her nerves into a frenzy. She could have done more to help save those lives. Sightstones of a mauve hue still reflected within them the hateful orange shimmer of destruction, replaying over and over the nail-grazing sound of just plain old murder. And that is what it was. This was no natural disaster, no- Velle had seen her unfortunate share of earthquakes and twisters at her young age. This atrocity of a situation could have only been initiated by a harbinger of annihilation. But what exactly? She hadn't even bothered to scope out the initiator.. This girl, she has been so reckless! It's a wonder that she herself even made it out alive.
It was then that Velle finally noticed the other being that shared occupation within the small, currently safe vicinity. A male, older than herself, it seemed as if he was rattled as well with the events that were taking place. Her confident gaze searched his own for some sign of inconsistency in her character, but the sudden stinging of fresh tears mottled her vision. For a split moment, her mind worked itself to conjure up a foggy memory. A small girl, likened to Velle in appearance, clutching a leg each of two powerful, standing figures that seemed to be protecting the little whelp; A sturdy, dark and tall male garbed in smoky hues confidently situated beside a stunning female companion of ebony and onyx. Both presences sent a feeling of comfort and longing into Velle's chest, but also allowed the welling tears and more to roll down and stain her ashen cheeks. A deep breath forced her voice into action underneath an attempt to also prevent a cough from sputtering out; She must have inhaled smoke. Ignoring the inquiry directed at her, she chose to bite back.
"You could have saved more. There.. There were children there! You could have lifted three of them instead of me! They had no one to protect them, and they just.." No more words followed a crackling of her voice, and she chose to stop speaking. As much as she craved to challenge his choice of good justice, the force within her that drove her to put others before herself cried out in failure. She chose to remain silent for moments longer to compose herself, albeit it was a mission that proved more difficult that presumed.
Sleeves were used to wipe her eyes, freeing her thick lashes from the dampness that weighed them down. Once she was sure her eyes would remain dry, Velle moved to carefully clean the glasses that adorned her face, inspecting them for any potential crack or dent- To her relief, none. She repositioned them upon herself before giving the male another glance, her gaze honing in on the rolled...
Expert fingers quickly moved to remove it from his person, with hopes to smush it under her heel. What a nasty, gaudy habit he occupied himself with!
"What do we do from here? What... what was the source of those fireballs?" She hoped her inquiries could be answered by the man, for she had absolutely no clue as to how to approach what was going on. How was the rest of the city coping, if her small circle of peace had been rocked so quickly?
"And, before I let it slip by.. Thank you. Uhm, my name is Velle. Velle Kanahashi."
____
All he'd heard in return was how futile his action had been, how it had instead cost the lives of those apparently worth more than her. How he'd been a failure at doing whatever he could to save an innocent. How he was insufficient. Her silence was met with his eyes welling some. In all this madness, in all that he'd endured, the last thing he needed to hear was that he'd not done enough. That he'd failed at the one thing he could do in this moment, when the world and everything in it, was against him. He was a normal individual. A human. From Arizona. No powers. All he could do was help others, and try to stem the chaos in the area with whatever mortal means he could. Instead he was met with a chiding remark.
He remained silent as she ruined his only chance at calming his anxiety. Watching as she drove it into the concrete with her heel, his nerves again began to overwhelm him. He couldn't function like this. Every nerve was alive and stricken with fear to the point of vicious shaking. He couldn't grasp his thoughts, he couldn't grasp the situation around him. Without that haze, he had no clarity...as strange as it was to say.
"...I...I dunno. This place is different than it was a week or so ago. If it even was that long ago." He began. "Ain't the Wing City I knew...then again, this fuckin' world is a clusterfuck anyway. Ain't nothin' ever the way it should be. Like a goddamn nightmare I can't wake up from." He continued. "I'm from Arizona. It's been like. Three years, now. And it still don't make a damn bit of sense." He rattled off and rose to his feet, having caught her name. "Jeremy Reigns. I'm sorry about them kids. I acted as swiftly as I could and I saw you first. That's life. Especially in this god forsaken place."
Reaching into his pack again, he couldn't help but pull out another and light it. "And if you want me...at my best, you're just gonna have to deal with this. I can't get my shit around this fuckin' place. Flyin' creatures. Zombies. Fuckin' men who can lift buildings with their minds. I'm...I'm not." He stammered, falling into a mild panic attack at the thought of it all. "I just can't handle this shit unless I'm stoned, okay?" He spat out, taking a drag and holding it in. The burn of his throat nearly brought him to choke, but the sensation of it hitting his lungs was like lifting a weight off of his shoulders. The reaction was nearly instantaneous as his pleasure center unleashed the feel good sensation. Exhaling it through his nostrils, he looked around.
"I s'pose we look for people who may be hurt. I ain't got no medical know-how, but I think if I need to I can make a tourniquet."
Velle's Beginning.
"One.. two... jump!"
Interstellar jet-lag failed to take charge of the tiny female that made quick work of the iron steps she was meant to descend from, opting to rebel the rules that continued to resonate from the open carrier behind her. A few short leaps was all it took for her to greet the comfort of home beneath her, a satisfied heave of air expelling from her chest as she moved past crowds of passerby's, all-too eager to be rid of the traveling life, if only for a little while. Despite the trouble that kept itself cleverly hidden within the details of her last line of duty, Velle felt an invigorating energy envelope her as she made it to the outside world, the exuberant sun casting an all-too welcoming light directly into her field of vision. The silver glasses that framed her doll face were then gone in an instant, folded neatly in one hand as the other moved to comb through the erratic violet bangs licking her forehead.
The young prodigy had a few destinations in mind before heading home; Documents, first and foremost, needed to be signed and returned to the distributor in question. Second, she needed to meet with...
A terrifying growl ripped through her body, starting from her smooth belly and working its roaring way into her unsuspecting eardrums. Velle stopped in her tracks, limbs moving to cradle her abdomen in sudden agony. Everything around her seemed to vanish in that moment- Buildings melted into gray puddles on the ground, the periwinkle sky bled black and harbored no stars. Everything was void and unimportant compared to the feeling that now rocked her to her core.
"I've not had anything to eat since last evening.." The honey-dripped soprano that sang from her lips crackled with a ravenous hunger, meshing a wicked harmony with the growling that continued to make its presence known. She could practically feel steaming soup as it sank to her stomach, revel in the umami of a hot, home-cooked meal. And she knew just the place to indulge in!
Skittery footsteps planned a route long before she could do it herself, taking her through the large city's inner workings to her tiny corner of delight. Velle soon found herself within one of many plazas harbored within Westeria, though this niche by far was favored.
Footfalls stooped short a couple of feet in front of the dainty entrance to the restaurant, with the femme taking a moment to soak in a breath that offered up the scent of the meal she would soon devour. After passing through the ringing door, she immediately sat within a small cornered booth, a seat that was meant for a regular like herself. A waitress of short stature strode towards her, eager to take down Velle's order.
~Approximately 45 minutes later.~
The once clean tabletop was now littered with various folders and individual files pertaining to the work that kept the young Kanahashi busy, each of them strategically situated around her lunch-ware. One hand kept a firm grip on a pink drink set firm at her mouth as she kept her gaze focused on her work. Lost in her work, she was content to give absolutely no attention to her surroundings, even as customers occupying the restaurant began to rise from their seats, cautiously peering into the large windows that dominated the front wall.
"Is that.. oh my god, that's fire!"
Velle had no time to digest the words that sputtered out of someone's lips before a surge of piercing light scraped against the glass, followed by an earth-shattering explosion as the windows were no more. Screams mangled the scene as people began to scatter like fearful ants, pushing one another for the safety of their own lives. In a startle, the amethyst female sprung from her seat, important documents taking the back burner as she fought against civilians to make her way outside.
Two fingers quickly pushed the bridge of her glasses closer to her nose as she took in the situation flaming before her. And flaming it was, the center of the plaza alight in chaos. Velle wasted no time in coming to aid those whom had trouble escaping, quickly helping the fallen to their feet and to safety.
____
Jeremy Reigns had been in Westeria for a few weeks, now, leaving only when he deemed it necessary. This world without Greg was dull and lifeless, far worse than Wing City had been before. Many hadn't noticed the difference in the city, the new atmosphere, the aesthetic changes along the skyline, and the general population at that. Knowing no one, and still remaining in mostly utter disbelief at life around him, he remained locked in his ruddy apartment day after day, night after night, leaving only when he had to for restocking groceries. Not even his habit was much of a habit anymore. Highs weren't worth the fallout after, and burning through his entire stash wasn't worth the little money he had left. The cross-over had cost him his job. Somehow this apartment had been paid forward for the next thirty six years from some crimson haired man who was all about charitable work. So with no bills to pay on his residence, he was capable of living for sometime with the money he had stashed under his mattress. Ten thousand in cash, because he hadn't trusted it to the banks. In this instant, it was a surprisingly ironic stroke of luck that he hadn't.
As he sat huddled in his bed he realized, though, that he needed to restock on some food necessities today. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to welcome that twisted amalgamation of fiction, inconsistency, and absolute madness into his sights again, it meant admitting, once again, that it was all very, very, real. As he rose from his bed, he stumbled some, in a weakened state. No light, hardly any food, and little drink over the past three weeks had left him frail. It wasn't much better that his time in Wing City had thinned him, either. His initial arrival there had been met with much hilarity, his persona rather intact, despite the crazed amount of disbelief he held.
He crossed the floor, digging into his dirty clothes to find an outfit that manged to stink the least, laundry having gone undone since he'd crossed, and found himself an outfit. A few sprays of Axe and a spritz of cologne had him smelling mostly decent. A cigarette pack with a collection of spliffs was promptly shoved into his pocket before he snagged his wallet and a a handful of twenties from the roll of bills he had stashed before he left his apartment.
His wandering around the city had brought him to an unfrequented plaza, one he only ever truly ventured through one previous time in his bid to understand this new city. Glancing around it, he ushered forth a sigh before adapting a visage that was hard to determine as sincere or merely a facade. His eyes caught sight of a nearby diner and he sauntered his way in before taking a seat a few booths in, tucked in a corner where the lighting was dim and he was much to himself. Though he held a smile, eyes bloodshot from the few he'd already smoked, one could see the deep seeded troubles he had. "Uh, yeah. So like, hey dude. This. This here. I'll take that. Can't pronounce the stuff, though. Looks hella bangin', though." He commented, offering a cheesey grin of sorts. Despite his displeasure with his current life, he still could appreciate food when stoned. It was a luxury he'd never get tired of. His situation, grim, though came to mind and he fell into a fit of giggles before suddenly burying his face into his hands in lament.
He'd missed the girl that had taken her place at the window what had to have been fifteen minutes, or so, prior to him, but when he caught sight of her, his brow rose in acute interest. She was pretty attractive, but unbelievably young in appearance. It was a shame, too. He'd have rocked that body if it were about five years older, or so. Shame. He took the coming time to twiddle his fingers, play paper football with the table condiments and napkins, and whatever else it was he could think of to occupy his time until his food was ready, but it was as he began to doodle on his napkins with a pen that the chaos sprung up. As people began to yammer, and a sudden cry of fire echoed out, Jeremy's eyes widened and he leaned out from his booth to see the commotion. There were fires, alright. Sliding out of his seat, he swiftly crossed the floor, in all his stoned glory, with intents to press himself to the glass. As he came within feet, though, the explosive reaction that shattered the windows swiftly knocked him flat, spraying him with glass and embedding some of it in his outfit and a few pieces in his cheek.
"Ughhhn..." He groaned, rolling onto his side and staggering to his feet. His ears were ringing and he was in a seriously intense stupor, a few waves of vertigo hitting him like a brick upside the head. Staggering around, he realized he'd been the only one left int he establishment. How long had he been out? A few seconds? Minutes? Stumbling his way out, he cleared the glass from his outfit and picked out the pieces that had lodged into his cheek before wandering around outside to take in the view. The plaza wasn't just in flames, the entire city was. A winged nightmare could be spotted in the distance, as could jets and other minuscule projectiles. Smoke billowed into towering plumes and he found his mind a whir once again as panic gripped him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I can't handle this shit. I should be in Arizona right now! Toking up and sippin' a Forty with Greg while blasting Flood faggots in Halo. Jesus fucking Christ!" He spat out, digging his fingertips into his hair and holding his head tight. He'd had enough of this shit. It was too much for a guy like him to handle. Too much for someone who couldn't acclimate to the bizarre and outlandish reality that was The Omniverse.
Catching sight of the smokin' young girl he'd seen earlier, he caught sight of yet another flaming sphere of slag descending from the heaven's as the creature made another round. He wasn't a hero, but he could tell already that it was bound to strike the vicinity and if they didn't clear out now they wouldn't live. Taking a deep breath he took off at a dead sprint, whistling with a few fingers betwixt his lips as loud as he could. She seemed to be helping someone, but it looked as if they'd taken serious damage to their leg. A few different outcomes crossed his mind, but none where all three of them lived. "Hey, hey hey! Run, run! Fucking run!" He spat out, hollering at the top of his lungs. Reaching out for her, he did the best he could to grab at her arm and drag her along, forcefully if he had to. "It's us two, or all three of us die! Say a prayer when it's done..." He spit out, doing as best he could to drag her from harms way and over what appeared to be a concrete ornament foundation that housed potting soil for the plants that grew in it. Roughly about the time he clambered over it, her in tow hopefully, was the time the flaming sphere of brimstone struck the ground, the cries of the helpless individual who didn't make it snuffed out with the resulting cacophonous impact. Again his ears rang for a brief moment, but soon came to as he lingered there.
"You gonna be aight?" He questioned, his voice a trembling mess as he fumbled into his pack for a spliff. He could hardly grab it, though, as his hand continued to quake with the force of a thousand terrified critters. Having stuck it in his mouth, he lit it before taking a huge rip of it, courteously blowing the smoke off to the side. He just wasn't cut out for this...
____
Day after day, millions of people -willing and unwilling- lose their lives to the Gods above as millions more are joyously brought into the world. It was the simple, common cycle of life and death, something Velle was aware of at a young age. People are born, they live out their life- whether it's full of vigor and wonder or perhaps, a boring whelp of an existence, and when they're old and petrified.. They die. The soul gently caresses its body into a final slumber before slipping away to join countless others in their one last "goodnight."
But not like this. Innocent people should not be taken from this world in such a manner as to be... incinerated. Just the thought of it sent her nerves into a frenzy. She could have done more to help save those lives. Sightstones of a mauve hue still reflected within them the hateful orange shimmer of destruction, replaying over and over the nail-grazing sound of just plain old murder. And that is what it was. This was no natural disaster, no- Velle had seen her unfortunate share of earthquakes and twisters at her young age. This atrocity of a situation could have only been initiated by a harbinger of annihilation. But what exactly? She hadn't even bothered to scope out the initiator.. This girl, she has been so reckless! It's a wonder that she herself even made it out alive.
It was then that Velle finally noticed the other being that shared occupation within the small, currently safe vicinity. A male, older than herself, it seemed as if he was rattled as well with the events that were taking place. Her confident gaze searched his own for some sign of inconsistency in her character, but the sudden stinging of fresh tears mottled her vision. For a split moment, her mind worked itself to conjure up a foggy memory. A small girl, likened to Velle in appearance, clutching a leg each of two powerful, standing figures that seemed to be protecting the little whelp; A sturdy, dark and tall male garbed in smoky hues confidently situated beside a stunning female companion of ebony and onyx. Both presences sent a feeling of comfort and longing into Velle's chest, but also allowed the welling tears and more to roll down and stain her ashen cheeks. A deep breath forced her voice into action underneath an attempt to also prevent a cough from sputtering out; She must have inhaled smoke. Ignoring the inquiry directed at her, she chose to bite back.
"You could have saved more. There.. There were children there! You could have lifted three of them instead of me! They had no one to protect them, and they just.." No more words followed a crackling of her voice, and she chose to stop speaking. As much as she craved to challenge his choice of good justice, the force within her that drove her to put others before herself cried out in failure. She chose to remain silent for moments longer to compose herself, albeit it was a mission that proved more difficult that presumed.
Sleeves were used to wipe her eyes, freeing her thick lashes from the dampness that weighed them down. Once she was sure her eyes would remain dry, Velle moved to carefully clean the glasses that adorned her face, inspecting them for any potential crack or dent- To her relief, none. She repositioned them upon herself before giving the male another glance, her gaze honing in on the rolled...
Expert fingers quickly moved to remove it from his person, with hopes to smush it under her heel. What a nasty, gaudy habit he occupied himself with!
"What do we do from here? What... what was the source of those fireballs?" She hoped her inquiries could be answered by the man, for she had absolutely no clue as to how to approach what was going on. How was the rest of the city coping, if her small circle of peace had been rocked so quickly?
"And, before I let it slip by.. Thank you. Uhm, my name is Velle. Velle Kanahashi."
____
All he'd heard in return was how futile his action had been, how it had instead cost the lives of those apparently worth more than her. How he'd been a failure at doing whatever he could to save an innocent. How he was insufficient. Her silence was met with his eyes welling some. In all this madness, in all that he'd endured, the last thing he needed to hear was that he'd not done enough. That he'd failed at the one thing he could do in this moment, when the world and everything in it, was against him. He was a normal individual. A human. From Arizona. No powers. All he could do was help others, and try to stem the chaos in the area with whatever mortal means he could. Instead he was met with a chiding remark.
He remained silent as she ruined his only chance at calming his anxiety. Watching as she drove it into the concrete with her heel, his nerves again began to overwhelm him. He couldn't function like this. Every nerve was alive and stricken with fear to the point of vicious shaking. He couldn't grasp his thoughts, he couldn't grasp the situation around him. Without that haze, he had no clarity...as strange as it was to say.
"...I...I dunno. This place is different than it was a week or so ago. If it even was that long ago." He began. "Ain't the Wing City I knew...then again, this fuckin' world is a clusterfuck anyway. Ain't nothin' ever the way it should be. Like a goddamn nightmare I can't wake up from." He continued. "I'm from Arizona. It's been like. Three years, now. And it still don't make a damn bit of sense." He rattled off and rose to his feet, having caught her name. "Jeremy Reigns. I'm sorry about them kids. I acted as swiftly as I could and I saw you first. That's life. Especially in this god forsaken place."
Reaching into his pack again, he couldn't help but pull out another and light it. "And if you want me...at my best, you're just gonna have to deal with this. I can't get my shit around this fuckin' place. Flyin' creatures. Zombies. Fuckin' men who can lift buildings with their minds. I'm...I'm not." He stammered, falling into a mild panic attack at the thought of it all. "I just can't handle this shit unless I'm stoned, okay?" He spat out, taking a drag and holding it in. The burn of his throat nearly brought him to choke, but the sensation of it hitting his lungs was like lifting a weight off of his shoulders. The reaction was nearly instantaneous as his pleasure center unleashed the feel good sensation. Exhaling it through his nostrils, he looked around.
"I s'pose we look for people who may be hurt. I ain't got no medical know-how, but I think if I need to I can make a tourniquet."
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