Unexpected Fireworks - Open

[Cyril Kirabo]

The currently deserted grounds were a good place to practice his unique set of skills. For once, he wasn't talking about the sleigh-of-hand five fingered discount that Chiaroscuro used when he was stealing from an art gallery or bank - not, Cyril had come to the empty fair grounds to practice his much more unique skills. Dressed in a casual outfit, he stood a few feet away from a strand of trees - Jump City's puny attempt to negate all the pollution the fairs caused. But it did look pretty, a mix of evergreens and some other kind of tree that Cyril didn't recognize; it's limbs were bare of leaves, a few birds' nests standing out prominently on the empty branches.

Said branches lit up with an unearthly glow as Cyril raised his left hand and flicked it, little blobs of white light bouncing through the air to bob a few feet away from him. A wiggle of his fingers and the lights stilled, hovering roughly eye level to Cyril. Breathing in sharply through his nose, his other hand shot out, and black blobs of shadow floated to settle next to the light; not too close, however. Much like magnets, Cyril had found, his light and shadow constructions could only get so close to each other before they started to weaken and eventually dissipate.

Concentrating, he made the light blobs thin and stretchy, while he made the shadow blobs flatten out thin, flat, spread out. Considering what he'd made, Cyril gestured dramatically - no audience this time, or so he thought, but it lent an air of purpose to his proceedings. The white constructs shot up, stretching and twirling as Cyril abandoned his shadows blobs for a moment, concentrating on the light. Pulling his hands apart abruptly, the part-time villain looked on in satisfaction as his light constructs 'exploded' into a spray - fireworks! Only white ones, but it still made him laugh in delight.

CYRIL
KIRABO

open

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[Deleted]

The park was always quiet after dark, with the exception of certain members of society's underbelly, who could reliably be found peddling pharmaceuticals or other illegal contraband. He didn't really care for such petty annoyances. In his old life, those people were always useful because they had access to sources of intel that no one else would consider, and perhaps that gave him something of a soft spot for them, but the reality was that such people were often the first to hurt the innocent when things went in a way that they didn't expect. As much as he'd relied on them in the past, he knew his father would never have abided by letting such people walk, if there was something he could do about it.

Tonight was one of those nights when he donned his armor and mask and searched for the answers he needed. Those very lowlifes could possibly have the intel that he needed, once again, and it didn't hurt that his reputation as a ruthless vigilante would make them talk more readily than most squeaky clean heroes. He's seen plenty of bloodshed in his life. A little more would not bother him.

His booted footsteps were silent as he moved under the trees, trying to catch someone off guard who might know something about a hero or villain who used time and dimensional magic or technology. Criminals all knew somebody, after all. There was bound to be someone in this city that knew something, and he would find it if it took him ten years.

He stopped as a brilliant flash of light caught his attention, and he headed toward the source. Stepping out from under the shadows, he caught sight of the one responsible. It was a surprise when he realized that it was just some kid making the ruckus, and one with powers at that. Such powers could have no effect on someone with his power set, but at least this kid was more likely to know something than your average drug dealer, right?

"That is quite a show you are putting on here," he said, his voice modulator altering his voice and masking his Russian accent.

[Deleted]

Talk about a detour... Nikita wasn't sure how long she'd been
wandering the grounds for now. Her phone battery (Stupid thing) had died
earlier in the day and with it her ability to assess how much time
passed. Once again she wished her prescience powers actually extended
more then a few seconds into the future, then she could have known not
to take the "scenic route". What a mistake that was. Not only did it
prove longer -or at least so she assumed, hard to know for sure without a
clock and a biological clock that had grown totally reliant on
technology for anything long-term-, but there really wasn't much to see
at all. Just a bunch of...

Her train of thoughts was suddenly
interrupted by a flash. She saw it without seeing it, a dim light in the
corner of her eye. But it hadn't happened yet. It was about to. It was
still odd to her, to experience something before it actually happened.
Feedback from her future self, her mother had said when she'd tried to
explain to her daughter what had happened to her. Of course even she
wasn't certain for sure. It was just her best guess, but her mom's
best guess was good enough for Nikita. She was one of the smartest
people she knew after all.

She stopped her walk and turned her
attention to where that light was about to come from. Just in time to
make out the impromptu firework lighting up in the distance. Was it a
firework? It was an odd time to be doing that. Maybe just some would-be
pyrotechnician practicing? Whatever it was, she might as well go and
take a look. At least then her little trip wouldn't have been for
nothing.

Approaching the last little corner she needed to turn to
reach the spot Cyril had chosen for his little practice, the young
woman was about to speak out a greeting to not startle whoever was
there. But she sight she would see turning that corner gave her pause.
There where two men, not one, both turning to face the newcomer. She
barely noticed the first, but the second was odd. Armor? Who was this
man? She needed a little time to assess the situation. And so the future
that could have been was changed as Nikita stopped in her tracks
instead of announcing herself, just peeking around the corner, a little
fly on the wall.

TAG: Cyril Kirabo @drew

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[Cyril Kirabo]

The strange man in armor stepping out of the small strip of trees was enough to startle Cyril into 'dropping' his shadows and light - if he didn't concentrate on them, the constructs would disapate, something that became obvious when the little light there was in the clearing disappeared. Another flick of his hand and Cyril had a larger, fist-sized light blob floating next to him. Instead of sending ir directly at Drew - he didn't want it to seem like her was attacking the weirdo in a suit of armor, who knew what he'd do? - Cyril sent it floating high above their heads, shedding light on both of them.

"Not that I'm not glad to have a fan, but..." Cyril gestured with his free hand at...really, all of Drew's costume. "Really? Armor? I know Jump isn't the most fashion forward town, but come on, I expected better than actual armor. Something sleeker." He commented, tapping a finger to his chin as he eyed the other man. His own costume - which he wasn't wearing at the moment - was much more aesthetically pleasing, Chiaroscuro mused. He'd have to give the beknighted, fashion-blind person who'd crashed his little show a couple of fashion tips, that was obvious.

Or maybe he was a robot? Cyril squinted; even with his light glowing steadily above them, it was hard to make out whether there was a person beneath all that plate armor. And he'd definitely seen stranger since he'd moved to Jump City - though he had to admit, a robot with a sword was a strange first.

CYRIL
KIRABO
@drew , @nikitayazov

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[Deleted]

"Fashion?" he asked, a suppressed laugh in his tone as he took another couple of steps closer. "Armor is only beautiful if it is functional. Otherwise, you might as well be wearing a garbage can over yourself."

Vanity. It was one of the more irritating sins, considering how ultimately useless looks really were. His armor was designed for three things: protecting him in combat, making a memorable and intimidating impression, and, when necessary, stealth. Fashion didn't really come into his equation at any point. In his childhood, vanity was worse than foolish, because it wasted supplies that the resistance needed for survival. Even though he didn't live such a strict life anymore, he still found it hard to break away from that way of thinking. That was probably for the best, considering his meager salary.

Resting his hand on his sword, he sniffed the air unobtrusively. There was someone else here, staying just out of sight, but he kept his focus on the boy in front of him. There was no point in borrowing trouble before it arrived. Besides, the female smelled too young to be law enforcement, so it didn't ultimately matter.

"Tell me," he said, getting straight to the point, "have you heard anything about a man with control over time?"

There was no knowing if the person who had thrown him into this timeline had followed him here, but odds were that some version of him would turn up eventually. It was his only chance of going home, or finding his daughter, and he would tear the city apart to find him, if he had to.


tag;;
Cyril Kirabo
@nikitayazov

[Cyril Kirabo]

As Nikita lurked in the shadows, concealed from Cyril and disregarded by Drew, the wind picked up and blew around the trio, a bite of winter bitterness in it. Cyril briefly reconsidered his stance on armor as his exposed skin stung mildly; the armor-clad guy in front of him didn’t look even mildly put out. If he was a robot, though, he certainly wouldn’t feel the cold - and it would explain his incredibly bizarre distaste towards fashion. Who didn’t like fashion? It was almost as important as eating! Clearly this robot needed to be taught a few things about modern culture. ...but not in the middle of a park in the middle of the night, and perhaps when he looked a hair less threatening than he did now, the crackle of his voice taking on a pressing edge as he directed questions toward Cyril.

Said man held up his hands in a placating, nothing-up-my-sleeve gesture. It didn’t mean much when you could form anything with a flick of your hands like he could, but it was the thought behind the gesture that counted. “Hold on, we have to talk about your atrocious outlook on fashion, my friend. I mean, armor in Jump City? You’re going to be ripped to shreds - by the media, if the other crazies around here don’t get to you first. Trust me - robot parts sell for a bundle around here. You wouldn’t believe how expensive laser beams are!” He’d know from experience; mostly the experience of asking what a simple laser beam sold for, giving them his price range, and subsequently getting laughed out of the black market. Not his best day on the job.

The intensity in Drew’s voice when he got to the point of his appearance in the park derailed whatever else Chairoscuro had been going to say - an easy thing to do, since he tended to ramble with whatever topic that was presented, and could gleefully talk shop for hours if given half a chance. “Time control? Um...no, nobody around here can do that. I think there’s a kid in the ghetto’s who can see the future or something, but he’s like five or something, so. You know. Not gonna work for your evil scheme or whatever.” Cyril shrugged his shoulders, jacket scrunching around them as he moved, one hand gesturing widely in the general direction of the ghettos, the light blob above the two men floating a beat or two behind his hand motion.

CYRIL
KIRABO
@drew, @nikitayazov

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