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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Nell Omix

Well that response was cryptic. Sonnet frowns. The girl's name? What about her name could make her so unpopular with half of the population? She shoots a curious look in the girl's direction, but restrains herself from asking for the truth of the matter. It's habit, mostly. Sonnet is in the kind of life where you don't ask too many questions, for fear that you might never ask any questions ever again. Her ability might leave her with little to fear these days, but that old habit is particularly hard to break.


The question catches her by surprise, and she hesitates for a moment. Quickly she begins to plate up in an attempt to cover her discomfort, poorly. It's a difficult question for her to answer. There is her mother, but she was always closer to her father. There is Evelyn, but she is both confused about her feelings for the scarred woman, and still unwilling to share that with anyone.

After a too long pause, "The priest. Mathias. I've known him since I was a little girl, see him occasionally still. He's a good man. Too good to be a priest... Probably. Someone I can trust though. Which is hard to find in my line of work."

Crossing the room with two bowls piled high with noodles and vegetables, she sets one down on the table for the girl before dropping into the couch and kicking her feet up. Immediately she begins to devour the meal, packing away the food that belies her diminutive stature and petite figure. "Eat. You look like you need a good meal."

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Nell Omix

Sonnet doesn't really do diplomacy, she should, her father had always stressed it was one of the most important parts of his job, but she'd never gotten the hang of it. She was like her mother in that regard, though both would deny it. As such, when Nell makes a vague allusion to her parent's perhaps not wanting her back over the holidays, Sonnet bulldozes right through it.

"You don't get on with them then? Is it cause you're a meta?"

Sonnet's own father had died a long time before the Event, so she has no real idea what his reaction would have been to her abilities. Kenshin, the man who had replaced her father as Oyabun valued her, though she was sure that was as a tool rather than an ally. Her mother disapproved, but more in the way she had always disapproved of everything involved with the Yakuza than because of any specific dislike of metahumans.

"That must make your holiday's less fun. You can't just stay at school? It's a boarding school right?"

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Nell Omix

Sonnet is surprised by how well the girl is taking the injury and subsequent treatment. She's seen even grown men squirm at this sort of treatment, and in the Yakuza, with their traditional tattoos, you found a lot of men with a high tolerance for pain. Her hand moves swiftly, showing a perhaps unsurprising deftness considering how swiftly she had put down the two thugs in the alleyway. In, out, in out, it doesn't take long before she is more than halfway through closing the nasty gash. It's not the neatest job she's ever seen, but it should heal up with a minimum of scarring, at least judging by her somewhat limited experience of such things.

She pauses, glancing towards the heavy bag that is visible from her position beside the door. It is identical to the bag now discarded on the bathroom tiles. The kid wouldn't have been in the situation in the first place if it hadn't been for Sonnet. She might not have intended what had happened, but ultimately she was responsible. She chooses not to lie, but she refrains from telling the whole truth.

"I couldn't just let those two guys beat up on you. If I'd stood and watched it would have been my fault."

She finishes her stitching, tying off the thread and then snipping it with the scissors included in the first aid kit for just such a purpose. She follows that up with a dressing, just a simple sticky pad that sticks straight over the wound. It proclaims in large blue letters that it is a waterproof dressing suitable for up to 48 hours.

"You're brave kid... I doubt there are many... What... 18 year olds? That would have gotten through that without bawling."

Though her dialect is undeniably American, there is a somewhat mechanical quality to her accent, in the way that often comes with those who learn something as a second language. That quality is only accentuated by the slight rasp of her voice, as the knotted scar contorts over her vocal chords.

Hungry, Sonnet heads into the apartment. Her power takes a lot of energy, even more so when she takes passengers. "You want something to eat?"

In truth, she's not really sure what to do. She doesn't often have guests, and this is new territory for her.

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Nell Omix

"This is going to make you feel awful."

Sonnet gives no further explanation as Nell's fingers close around hers and she pushes them through space. Teleportation is a strange experience, one that should be impossible, the kind of power that would be required to quite literally rip a hole in the universe is unfathomable. It feels somewhat like being turned inside out and then the right way round at the destination. Or maybe it's the universe that turns inside out, the whole thing is so muddled that it's almost impossible to put into words.

They arrive in a white marble bathroom, and the reason for this location choice is obvious as Sonnet releases the girl's hand and takes a smart step backwards. Experiencing teleportation for the first time is a challenge for even the strongest constitution, and vomit wipes easily off marble if the girl misses the toilet.

Meanwhile, Sonnet opens the door and walks into the apartment, revealing that the rest of it looks just as expensive as the bathroom. "Come in kid, let me get a first aid kit for that."

She nods back over her shoulder at the still bleeding arm. All in all she seems remarkably calm about what has just happened, and the girl's injury. She drops the heavy duffel bag on the kitchen island, before rooting around in a cupboard and emerging with a red plastic box with a white first aid cross stencilled onto it.

"You OK with me doing this to you?"

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My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Nell Omix

"Hey f**kers, why don't you pick on someone your own size."

The statement might be cliché, but it's also ironic. The masked figure standing in the alleyway entrance is smaller even than the girl lying on the ground, probably only a couple of inches above five feet. She, for it clearly is a she despite the flat chest, is wearing an expensive looking pant suit and a stylised samurai mask.

The men glance over their shoulders at her. One turns fully. "F**k off nerd, this has nothing to do with you. Now leave us be and we won't have to beat the shit out of two people."

At least that's what he would have said if he hadn't been interrupted halfway through by an extremely expensive designer boot that broke his nose. Somehow the diminutive figure has crossed the space between them in less than a second. The second guy turns in alarm attempting to pull a gun from his pants. The masked woman is gone again, and he looks around wildly before a kick in the small of his back sends him careening into the wall. He just manages to avoid smashing his face into the brick and turns to send a flurry of bullets at the woman who... Is simply not there. Instead she is beside him and forcing his gun hand upwards while smashing an elbow into his temple. Once, twice, three times.

On the third he crumples. Going down into an unceremonious heap against the wall. His gun, now abandoned on the floor, is kicked away, spinning off into the shadows of the alleyway. There is another gunshot, it's sound echoing off the walls of the alleyway. There are screams, and several members of the public with less than stellar survival instincts peer into the alleyway as a spinning kick knocks the gun from his hand and then the following foot snaps his head back into unconsciousness.

The masked figure glances wordlessly at the crowd now gathering at the end of the alleyway, then at the kid that had been caught up in all of this. Sonnet might have left there and then, but something catches her eye, the girls jacket sleeves are tenting periodically. It looks, well, unnatural, meta.

"Sh*t"

She takes a few steps to retrieve the bag she had dropped at the start of the fight. "Please tell me you're not a meta, kid."

Shortcut

My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Nell Omix

It is late in the day, the cold grey light of a winter sun slowly fading behind the tall buildings of New York. Sonnet is stood overlooking the Central station platforms, in one of the few positions one can be stood in for such a purpose. Of course chain link fences and heavy padlocks don't make much of an obstacle when you can step through space itself.

She checks her watch, it is small, stylish, and staggeringly expensive. Most of the things she wears are, including the black designer pant suit she is currently wearing. She brushes her short hair back out of her face, then finally stops tapping her heel as she hears the click-click-clacking of a train coming into view around the corner.

It's the one she's waiting for. Sonnet crouches down to get a better angle, able to see in through one of the now slowing train's windows. She's not actually sure who she will be looking for on the train. They aren't her suppliers, but the suppliers for the gang that has recently been attempting to muscle in on her territory. Rather than simply killing them as she has been wont to do in the past, Sonnet has elected to simply deprive them of their supply. While supplementing her own for free of course. That the Yakuza have a metahuman in New York City is common knowledge. Almost no one knows that it is her.

Making sure she has the mask securely in her pocket, she steps forward off her perch... And reappears with a sudden rush of displaced air in the centre of the carriage. Several people look up with a start, but Sonnet ignores them. She's already seen what looks like the men she is after in the next cabin. They look uncomfortable, and there is a large duffel on the table between them. One is resting his hand on the bag, and he lifts it as the train begins to come to a stop, picking it up and moving into the aisle without a care for the young woman that is already there taking her bag down from the rack above the seats. A bag that just so happens to be an identical black duffel.

Shortcut

My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

+ Evelyn Winters

The unintentional joke by Evelyn makes Sonnet smile, a little. As well as her offer to defend her honour with what would have undoubtedly been lethal force. She feels a sudden heat in her face, looking around to see if the sun has suddenly somehow intensified. It takes her a moment to realise that the heat is a blush. The realisation only makes the blush intensify and she looks away, feeling embarrassed. In looking away she catches Cat's eye. The animal doesn't seem to like her much, but he also doesn't seem to actively dislike her. At least not anymore, she'd had to replace the sofa after he'd shredded it the first night he'd spent in her apartment.

"No, that's OK."

Her smile grows a little, "Maye next time though."

She is behaving like a school girl. She shouldn't be blushing like she was in high school looking at a crush. What's worse is there are people around, all of them witness to her embarrassment. For a moment she feels the urge to just leave, and for her it would be so easy. There would be no awkward run through the park, no need to attempt to evade the woman she'd come here to meet. She could be on the other side of the city in the blink of an eye.

Sonnet blinks.

She's still in the park. People are still brushing past her and Evelyn. Evelyn's still there. Sonnet is almost surprised to find that she herself is still there, after all, escape for her is almost as easy as breathing. Perhaps that's why she hadn't eaten much before coming out. It would have made no difference to her figure, but it did mean that using her ability would require far more consideration than normal.

Sonnet gestures away from the crowds, down a side path that, while still busy, will lead them somewhere a little further off the beaten track.

"This way?"

Being in such a crowded place doesn't do anything for her nerves, and Sonnet can't help but feel that there is someone there making a judgement about the two women. It probably means she is less likely to run into someone she knows, but somehow the thought doesn't make her feel that much better.

She wants to be closer to Evelyn, the hug had felt good. The sensation of Evelyn's body against her own had felt good. Yet the thought of being closer here makes her chest hurt. It's confusing, and trying to untangle the web of contradictory feelings just makes her hesitate. Instead she pushes them aside and starts moving, pausing a few steps away.

"Come on. This way."

She's surprised how much she enjoys looking back at Evelyn, and how hard it is to pull her gaze away and start walking down the path, fully expecting Evelyn to follow. The shadow of the trees brings some relief from the gaze of the sun, and equally, the gaze of others.

Maybe being more out of sight would let her pluck up the courage to be a little more intimate in 'public'.