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Who: Mantis (

uglybug) & you
What: Mantis is absolutely determined to clear her friends' names. This is not as easy as it may sound.
When: In the days after the explosion
Where: Market and Red Light District
Warning(s): There is a punch thrown. Does that need a warning?

A: The Market

[The immediate aftermath of the explosion has settled and the longer term effects are rearing their ugly heads: sickness and blame and paranoia. Mantis honestly feels terrible that she's not at the Sanctuary, offering her unique brand of comfort to the sick (and possibly traumatized.) She hopes that she still has a job when all is said and done -- she has, at least, shown up for a shift or two, hoping against hope that she might hear something useful there. After all, many people would gather at the Sanctuary, though likely not anyone with any information on the bombing.

Mantis has a vested interest in finding anything useful. Peter and Rocket absolutely cannot take the blame for this, no matter how or why they had ended up involved. She hasn't known them long; theirs is an odd relationship, forged in even odder circumstances -- and they might not feel as strongly about her as she does them, but that's okay. She's used to that. They've talked about this, having each other's backs.

This is how she's decided to have theirs.

Unfortunately, gathering useful information that could lift the burden of guilt from her friends is far more difficult than it sounds. (And it doesn't really sound easy, either.) The marketplace is picking up its pace again, as investigators and curious onlookers come and go and merchants take stock of their wares. She slips through the crowd fairly easily -- she's experienced in this, being in the background and never being noticed -- so when she does bump into someone, it's usually not an accident.

She'll smile, offer a quick apology, try to start a conversation if the other person is amenable, even help merchants pick through their belongings. She's helpful and kind.

Perhaps she asks your help as she's cleaning up some mess still left behind, or she bumps into you and offers a friendly, abashed apology.]

B: Red Light District

[She stumbles upon him mostly by accident. Mantis catches sight of the tattoo -- the "M" on a wrist -- and, without thinking, catches his sleeve. (She doesn't manage to touch skin, more's the pity, and especially in hindsight.) Perhaps she says stop or perhaps it's just a wordless exclamation as she tries to reel him in. She doesn't remember.

Mantis is no fighter, not unless she can get her hands on someone and use her abilities. In this case, she never has the chance. The fist lands squarely on her jaw; she stumbles into the wall beside her. (There's a small voice in her head that tells her that she should be grateful that the guy runs away after she lets go of him. He could have stayed while she tried to catch her balance and finished the job.)

She does catch her balance, hands splayed against the wall and the taste of blood in her mouth.

That... that did not go as well as she had hoped.]

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Kale signed up to help find the missing people, largely because she wants to be useful and knows nothing about caring for sick people. It's rare for her kind to get sick in the first place, and far more common that they wind up needing medical attention because of battle injuries. She hasn't worked up the courage to sign up for the Guard just yet, and now she's gotten caught up in this. If she helps to catch her fellow refugees, perhaps she'll get to them before someone willing to use lethal force does.

It's the sudden scent of blood that gets her attention in this crowd, and she hastily follows that scent until she finds a girl with antennae braced up against the wall.

"Um...e-excuse me, miss? Are you okay? Do you need me to take you to the Clinic or something?"

Mantis slowly pulls herself upright, one hand probing at her jaw and wincing at what is likely going to be a spectacular bruise. He hadn't hit her hard enough to really injure -- perhaps he hadn't thought that she is a bit more durable than an average Olympian her size -- but it still hurts.

Cradling her jaw, she turns to Kale and shakes her head. But the blood is filling her mouth and it's unpleasant. Her expression twists into one of both apology and disgust as she holds up a hand and turns away to spit onto the ground.

Ew. "Sorry," she says, reaching up to wipe away blood with her hand. "That's awful. I am so sorry."

Edited 2017-10-04 03:43 (UTC)

[ David had heard a little of the Red Light District by now, though it had so far escaped his wanderings — no judgement to the people that worked there, it's simply the practical solution when you are already struggling to contain the constant press of thoughts and feelings in a city - but over the course of his own investigations had found himself lead there.

He catches the flare of pain, the flicker of surprise and then he's picking up the pace, arriving just as the guy departs. ] Hey! [ He calls after him, loud and angry; he considers giving chase but his attention cuts immediately to Mantis and he hesitates. Shit. ]

Are you okay? [ asked as he draws closer, though careful to keep at a distance in case she startles. ]

Kale has seen much worse. One doesn't come from a warrior planet and spend years training without seeing some nasty bruises and breaks.

"You don't need to apologize for that, miss," she says, attempting to be soothing. It's ironic, considering how often she apologizes for the slightest thing herself, but it's easier to be objective when it comes to other people's well being.

"Whoever did that should be the one saying sorry. Maybe a glass of water would be good to rinse out your mouth? And then some ice if we can find it."

She at least knows how to deal with the basic treatment of injuries.

"I'll walk with you. Um...only if you want, though! I don't want to be a bother!"

[She does startle, but it's mostly contained to a small jump and the tightening of one hand on the brick; her other hand comes up between them, stilled in an odd gesture between warding him off and reaching for him. Had she not been somewhat more... durable, perhaps, is the best word, than the average Olympian citizen, she might have been reeling still, but her vision is clear.

Still, it hurts and it's likely to be an impressive bruise. There's blood coating the inside of her mouth, where her cheek caught her teeth. She nods even as she leans forward to spit the welling blood out. (It disgusts her that she has to do this in front of him. Ego taught her to be far more ladylike than that.) She keeps her hand between them and her gaze on him.]

Yes. [Her voice is a little small, shaky.] Sorry.

Mantis shakes her head; she does feel the need to apologize. She had the option to swallow the blood rather than be so crass. Even so, it's nothing to dwell on. "Water would be enough," she says. "There are plenty of places for that nearby." The Red Light Districts is teeming with such small businesses and bars.

She tries for a smile, but it looks awkward as she tries to avoid stretching the newly forming bruise and cut inside her mouth. "I don't mind. Thank you."

[ His hands go up immediately, reflexive, to show her that he's unarmed. That he means no harm. ]

You sure? [ Concern leeches into the question, because whatever she says she doesn't look okay.

Perplexed: ] You don't have to apologize, looks like he got you good. [ Frankly he's amazed she's still standing, as slight as she is. ]

Can I— Is there somewhere I can take you? Somewhere safe?

[She straightens, one hand still resting on the wall beside her; the other cradles her jaw. There's still some uncertainty in even her stance, in every gesture. She glances in the direction the man had escaped, eyes narrowing. She could have done something useful if she'd only been just a little bit faster.

Instead, she's leaning against a wall with a bruised jaw and bleeding mouth.] He did. [She'll admit it. He got her good. Her words are carefully enunciated and a bit slow.] I should have been more careful about confronting him.

[ It's a perfectly understandable reaction, something he's not inclined to take personally. He is a stranger, after all, and she's just been attacked. ]

Maybe, but there's really no good way to confront someone like that. [ He doesn't go so far as to mention how it could have been so much worse, since she probably figured that out already. ]

[Anemone's been doing her fair share of cleanup and assisting other businesses at stalls. She's finally free from a textiles place, taking a minute to herself to have that damn mask off her face to just breathe normally, but it isn't the worst contraption she's had to deal with.

She hears Mantis asking for help with cleaning, and quickly secures her mask again, paranoid of being bedridden as Junpei is.]

Oh, hi! [She remembers talking with her on the Network that one time.] Mantis, right? As long as I'm not behind a stall again, I'm fine with cleaning. Gotta keep busy I guess.

It's good to have a plan, however small and short term it may be. Kale glances around, looking for the nearest place that looks like a bar rather than a brothel. One looks promising. The waitstaff are wearing the revealing clothing one might expect in this district, but there doesn't appear to be any emphasis on any other services than food and drink, if the sign is anything to go by.

She's torn between what to inquire about first. The more relevant issue is who hit this girl and why, but there are so many people here from Earth that the very clear signs that this girl is not human have piqued Kale's curiousity. She's got to ask carefully, though. The Natha are clear in their rules.

"Um...are you from Olympia or from one of the far away colonies?"

[Amaterasu is a bad god—being this involved isn't any good. Children, even if they can be despicable, and even if she's been tested by them, had to hold herself back when they tried her patience, and hurt each other, should be free to develop and learn from themselves, whether they make the right or wrong choices. Usually, she can only watch and guide them, and put her energy into the truly evil, the influences that tempt people into awfulness.

But she is still more active than most gods, passive idling and observation isn't for her. Not to mention, with the lack of demons, and the lack of the Celestial Plains, leaving her to sit in the company of people for too long, learn too much, let them affect her more deeply than she should, what else can she do but get involved?

She tries to put most of her focus into the ailing, and in contrast to Mantis, she's at the Sanctuary frequently. A place she's volunteered at, come and gone as she pleased, for sometime now. It's possible they've seen one another before, maybe in passing, maybe the wolf sat with her, while she sat with a sickly child. That's often what she's doing there: curling up in the bed of someone ill, young or old, who feels ragged or lost, unsettled, and needs some being to hold onto. And of course, with all that warm, flower-scented healing.

As it is, she's overworking that ability. Using it too much, draining it, having to wait for it to return. Her quiet work and effort to comfort those who've been affected is distracted. She cannot remove from her head that Rocket is wanted, and seeing, in imagined repetition, Rocket unstitch his past to her, him planting his face against her. The horror of it, the knowledge of knowing that one day life will pick a path of belittling life, and break it, and try to make it into something else, as if its very own natural development hasn't been enough.

His concern for being of interest buzzes in her ears, and she tastes the paper of the journal she ripped up for him, although this was over a month ago. Mothers are not exceptions to fear, even if she's good at keeping brave faces, it worries her to think what will happen again if the wrong person takes interest in him, if he ends up in the wrong place—and enough is enough.

And so when she's emptied of her divinity, and must wait to heal at the Sanctuary as it is, she uses this time to wander and try to listen, too. Find some way to protect him better, or a clue for clearing his name, but things like fugitives and trials are human and human-like concepts that she doesn't really understand well. Her single goal is to keep him from potential danger, and she's gotten to know him well enough by now, that his innocence is of no doubt to her. It's not until after Mantis has been struck, and has her hands to steady herself on the wall, that Amaterasu realizes she's looking at her. She must have drifted in her thoughts while following familiar scent, not putting two and two together yet.

That coppery, sharp scent comes next, but right now, awareness aside, she's utterly ordinary. She lets a sigh through her nose, first, and then approaches, ears lowering to her neck, chorus of deep whimpers following, sympathetic sounds.]

[ she is not yet sick enough to confine herself at the Stark household, forcing herself to go outside the first time after being caught in the explosion that seems to have contained whatever ails them, now.

but on the marketplace there is a surprise: a parchment, containing the picture of a raccoon. she snatches it up, eyes wide, moving fast as she scans through the information that reads beneath the picture. ]

No... no. This can't be right! [ she knows it can't be. Rocket... no, she knows him capable of many things, things most people would consider horrible, but this? conspiring, providing weapons for a side with an illness as their thought of a declaration of war? putting himself in a position that might garner the interest of the Institute? no. never. ]

[ Mantis isn't the only one that is desperately trying to hunt for answers to save their friends from this. Reinhardt too is on that same hunt. He had asked for help over the network with a message. He had tried to talk to the woman in charge of the guard. He had been trying to contact his friends. Anything, anything to help them. He had promised once to be their shield and by god, he wasn't going to fail them this time.

But he's a rather large and intimidating man. No one seems to want to talk to him. Especially not about the so-called traitors. Which leave Reinhardt struggling to pitch in to help those in need here while still trying to save his friends. That intense feeling of wanting to save them, to save everyone, it's at the very forefront of the knight's being as he continues through the marketplace.

He stops when he notices a young woman trying to clean up a little and for the moment. He wonders if she might have information and if not, then he at least helped her. ] Please, let me help.

Mantis keeps her head down as she ducks into the bar; it's like any other place here, bustling and busy, but in light of recent events, a little quieter than perhaps it might have otherwise been. That's good enough, though. In fact, it's better than she expected.

She offers a lopsided little smile at the question. "I am a refugee."

"Me too."

That's about what Kale suspected, and so when they enter the bar, she finds a table off in the corner and asks in a hushed voice, "So...what planet do you come from? You remind me a little bit of a Namekian, only they have green skin."

It's the antennae, mainly. Namekians are the only race she's heard of from her universe that have antennae, so she's wondering if they have a sister race from another universe. So many people here seem to come from some variant of Earth that it's refreshing to meet someone who's very blatantly not from there.

No good way. [She turns to him then, not coming any closer but her guard relaxing a bit in his presence.] But perhaps better ways.

[Ugh, she's going to have to spit blood again; she turns away to do just that.] Sorry, [she says while still facing away.]

[Mantis offers a grateful smile as her request for help is met.] Mantis, yes. Anemone? [It's still odd to her, to meet the people she's spoken with over the device face-to-face.] Thank you for helping.

[The sounds she hears instantly put her on edge. This is not the first time that Mantis has been struck, though it has not been a thing that has happened often. She could likely count on one hand (and perhaps have fingers leftover) the number of times she's been struck. For all of Ego's faults, he very rarely even threatened her with physical violence.

This is beyond Mantis' experience and that is likely not a bad thing. She has, though, lived her life on alert and that seeps through into her being without much provocation. She's tense as she turns -- there's a bit of blood at the corner of her mouth and the redness that comes before a bruise is setting into her jaw -- but her vision is clear. For however she may be mentally reeling over the strike, she's physically well.

It apparently pays to be hardier than your average Olympian.

Recognition dawns on her in an instant. She's seen Amaterasu in the Sanctuary. Mantis suspects there's more to this seeming animal than she's found, if only because there is an intelligence and empathy in the things she's seen Amaterasu do there.] It's all right. [She says it softly, a bit haltingly, because it's not. Not really.

She wants to sit down there in the street and cry. Peter and Rocket might need better people to have their backs. She's apparently bad at this.]

[Mantis has, when she can do so without being overt about it, been taking down any parchment that has Peter's or Rocket's names or faces on them. The less people who see the papers, the better. It's one small way that she can help.

So it's not surprising that she notices Sansa take the flyer and stare at it with wide eyes. She's close enough to hear what's said and hope that perhaps she's found an ally swells.

Still, she's careful in asking.] You have met Rocket?

[Mantis is elbow deep in picking up bits of trash and debris that has been piled up against the side of a building; the wind, she assumes, swept it this way. It makes it easier, at least, to gather it all up and put it in the bins provided.

She glances up at the man joining her, shifting to make room for him.] Of course. I would be grateful.

Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty. [ Murmured more as an afterthought than an assurance.

Then she's turning aside to spit more blood and he realizes that they're really going to get nowhere if someone (him, in this case) does something, her having to do this in his presence an obvious cause for upset, which is what prompts him to offer: ]

Look, I understand if you don't want to go anywhere with someone you don't know but let me at least — I dunno, get you some water or something?

[Those ears don't lift out of their docile placement, though she pauses all the same when this young lady attempts to reassure her. They're given with such a lack of belief in them, however, and this is what urges her forward. If she could, she'd reach for one of her hands to take. She supposes she could go up on hind legs to catch one with gentle teeth, but this can be a bit alarming, and so she won't push her.

Instead, once she's near enough to give Mantis the clear idea that she's going to stay with her for awhile, she sinks back to sit down, a deep, groaning-whine emitting from her. It's all right if it isn't, would be the verbalization, if she had the means, but she still vocalizes it with this sound, regardless of the chances of it coming across being poor or good. She can't say it, no, but she can still mean it, and express it in her own way.]

[ He smiles so gratefully at her. He has been so useless. This small task makes him feel that at least he's doing something. Even if it's just helping a young woman pick up trash. ] Thank you. I think with the two of us, we'll get this place cleaned up in no time. And if you need help lifting anything.

[ He'll just be taking huge armloads of garbage (which for him is pretty epic) to put in the ben. ] Have you been working long on this? I'm so happy to see so many helping.

[ she turns at the woman that speaks to her, wary at first — but would anyone ask her about Rocket like that, if they weren't someone who wanted him to be safe, too?

just as carefully, she answers, ] Yes. [ then, after a pause, ] He's... he's been kind to me. [ there — enough to say she doesn't consider him a criminal, not like this anyway, and yet this doesn't quite condemn her either, should this alien-lookoing woman be after a fugitive and nothing else. ]

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