[october event - closed-ish]

[etiquette]

Who: harry hart (etiquette) & various
What: catch-all for the event!
When: first couple days after the explosion & announcement
Where: also various - institute and around town chasing questionable leads basically
Warning(s): mild violence in like one or two threads maybe



[NOTE: these are closed starters but if anyone is interested in doing something please feel free to hit me up over at obscurial or by pm and i'd be happy to toss something up! harry is under option #1 for the event and will be trying to pick up various leads and track down shady associates.]

Comments

[revlon]

[ As a woman who employs all manner of her surroundings as a weapon whenever possible, she does admire how he handles that umbrella. Simple, yet effective. She's not one for causing too much agony to a suspect, she doesn't much have a taste for the more aggressive interrogation techniques, but sometimes just a little bit of pressure applied just the right way is enough. (Although she did stick a man with a syringe full of what she described as an intense cold to make him a bit more forthcoming; easy, once he thought he was dying of something far more virulent.) ]

A dislocated shoulder is quite unpleasant, [ she tells the man beneath her. ] Is your organisation really worth all this trouble?

[ Two things happen in quick succession, neither of which she anticipates. First of all, the associate goes quite, quite still. Abruptly and limply enough that Peggy thinks he's fainted which is why she makes the mistake of lessening her weight on him, her hand loosening on his wrist. And the second thing is — well, that's a little bit harder to describe. The hairs on the back of her neck stand, like a prickle of static electricity. Suddenly, the man's hand twists under hers and grabs a hold of her wrist and sends a shock through her, like lightning.

It hurts, like an electric shock would, and she knows they're in trouble now because no one warned her that these associates would have abilities. The man takes that opportunity to throw her (and that umbrella) off him and scramble to his feet to scamper free. The second the contact breaks, the electricity is gone, and Peggy rolls to a stop against the stone wall of the alley. She's wincing as she pushes herself back up. ]

God damn it, [ she groans on hands and knees. They need to chase him down. Follow him, at least. ] Bloody hell.

[etiquette]

[something is off--harry can feel something prickling at the back of his neck too, as if the tension in the air has been altered. like something is coming, and he steps forward to put himself between peggy and the man just a shade too late. by then he's already done something that pushes her away--not a movement or a maneuver that he can see, but harry catches his umbrella and takes a moment to offer a hand to help peggy up.

shit. he doesn't want to lose the lead, even if it might be a dead end. if he were on his own, he could use the better functions of his umbrella to send out electric wiring to wrap around the man's legs and knock him to the floor, winded and shaking off the aftershocks in only a moment. but there's no way for him to pass that off. being roughed up in an alley is one thing, a tricked out umbrella another entirely. he's got at least thirty seconds on both of them from his little stunt and harry glances at peggy for a moment before making up his mind.]

I'm going after him--I'll get a head start.

[he doesn't want to insult peggy by dwelling on whether or not she's too injured to proceed, something tells harry she'd rather catch up and push onward. he'll just use his long legs to his advantage in the meantime, dashing off down the alley and following the sound of rushed footsteps. it's not hard to close the gap, and he spares a glance over his shoulder to see if peggy is following yet.]

[revlon]

[ She's already waving him off. Go. He's right, she'd rather he get on with it instead of lingering at her side, she can manage. Peggy hauls herself up and her knees still feel a little shaky but she's determined to walk — no, run — that off; and so she does, bolting down the alley and out onto the street. It isn't particularly well lit but she can place where the two men have gone and she takes off after them, shedding the cloak she'd donned to blend in with the crowd in favour of a bit more speed.

She catches up easily, although the associate they're chasing is some steps ahead. The disadvantage they have here is that they're still newcomers to this city. This man most likely has grown up here his entire life or came to Olympia and had time to map out the lay of the land. But she takes note of the route they're taking, the neighbourhood, the twisting maze of streets and alleys. If they get too close, the man they're chasing fires off bolts of electricity, scorching the ground by their feet. They make it to the entertainment district — she recognises the theatres — when suddenly the man rounds some blind curve and is gone when they come to the other side. ]

Christ, [ she snaps. She'd drawn her Walther to try and shoot the man in the leg, but things had happened so quickly, there was no chance of it. What a disgrace. Not her best work by far. ] Search the area. There's got to be something we missed.

[etiquette]

[it's certainly no car chase through the streets of london or bursting through hyde park in the middle of the night, but there's an adrenaline rush anyway as he keeps his focus trained on the tells in the man's body. which way he'll turn, if he's looking anywhere in particular. following a moving target has never been a difficult thing to do, but he is at a disadvantage by not knowing the streets like the back of his hand just yet--he hasn't had the time to, not really.

he can hear peggy catching up to them both, privately impressed and admiring of her determination and dedication to the cause. he's starting to get the idea that if she wasn't put to use during her time for something other than nursing or paperwork, she was sorely disserviced and it was very much their loss.

but there's little time to think about pleasant thoughts like that when harry finds himself jolted--quite literally--in his oxfords and nearly sprawls onto the pavement in a wipe out himself. he just barely manages to skid along the cement, long limbs waving for a few moments before he steadies himself and gets back on track. the peculiar bit is--there doesn't seem to be any actual device or mechanism he's generating the electricity from. harry's still trying to wrap his head around the colossal scale of organization this place has, let alone supposed magic users.

as he rounds the corner though, right as harry takes note of the theater building to it's a dead end. not literally, but he's just gone into thin air. harry jogs to a stop in the middle of the street, huffing out an incredulous noise.]

Oh for god's sake. They can teleport as well, then--you don't see that every day.

[he looks over at peggy, fearing the worst, which is that they've lost their lead.]

Well, shall we split up?

[none of them look particularly promising--but it's not the worst idea.]

Or is it time to commiserate over a pint?

[revlon]

[ She has one hand on her hip, the other hanging down with her pistol, and she's scowling at the alley. ]

I could do with a pint, but let's not give up just yet.

[ Peggy moves through the alley, light-footed in her boots, and runs a hand along the grimy walls, searching for the seam of a hidden door or — anything, really. But the fact of the matter is this city is magical, there are people who are capable of things she never dreamed, and even if she's experienced the unnatural in her own world, this is on another level altogether. Science has always explained these things to her. Science that's advanced in leaps and bounds that it may seem like magic, but...

She huffs out a breath. ]

If I were back in New York, I'd say the man disappeared into the sewers. [ She's spent some time in New York's sewage system. She's quite familiar with the twisting caverns, the storm drains. No joy here. ] I never thought I'd miss something so simple.

[ She glances over to see if Henry has found anything on his end, although she's not terribly optimistic. She's already tucking her gun away and it disappears neatly in the loose folds of her Olympian clothing. ]

Anything?

[etiquette]

[harry's umbrella is still clutched in his hand as he takes on another one of the alleys within reach. just an awful lot of garbage, and when he lifts the lid of a dumpster, it's empty too. he huffs out a frustrated noise, wishing more than anything for the convenience of london's exceptional cctv and merlin in his ear with instructions on where to go next. not that harry's incapable of of doing the work on his own when push comes to shove, but it certainly highlights to him how thankless merlin and all the other tech staff's jobs were considering the attitudes towards them back in the day.

after a few more minutes he calls it quits himself, heading back to where peggy is standing with a shrug of his shoulders, smoothing out his jacket.]

No luck on my end either, I'm afraid.

[he lets out a small snort.]

Controlled electricity--maybe it's not so unlikely he teleported out of here.

[it's half sarcasm and half...well, consideration, actually, because "magic" (even if ros would scold him for calling it as such) appears to be a viable thing that happens here from both refugees and now apparent locals.

but harry turns back to peggy again, noting the disappearance of her gun. one would never suspect that in the folds of her nicely tailored outfit, but he supposes neither would anyone think the same of his bulletproof bespoke either. he does note her hand is bleeding a bit from where she'd fallen, and he gestures to it.]

I feel responsible for that somewhat. Why don't we sit down and get that cleaned up, and I'll buy you a pint for all your troubles?

[glossing over why he was even out here in the first place getting "mugged", but he's hoping that's not the focus anymore.]

[revlon]

[ His being 'mugged' by a member of the group responsible for the marketplace bombing may not be the focus at the moment. But Peggy hasn't forgotten it and she might ask about it over that pint, if only because she can't imagine why Mr DeVere would be out at this time of night. (For all she knows, he's only a tailor. With a military background. She remembers.)

She frowns briefly when he indicates to her left hand and she holds it up to look; only then does the stinging register, the heel of her palm and wrist scraped raw by the cobblestones. Her knee is in similar shape, but she at least had a mind to leave her stockings off tonight. It's her one good nylon pair from home, she won't abide tearing them. ]

I won't say no to that. [ She's already shrugging off the rest of her disguise, folding the draped fabric over her arm. ] I know a place nearby — [ Peggy's lips twist in a wry smile, and she changes her mind. ] Actually, I'd prefer a bit more privacy than the local pubs can afford. This "M" group might be able to come and go as they please, but so can we.

[ She means the Station. They can teleport up there in an instant, and the food and drink selection at the mess hall is certainly far more varied. ]

Fancy a little trip upstairs?