but then I'll admit I'm just the same as I was

[retconman]

WHO: MAX LORD and YOU
WHERE: Around the City, pick a situation.
WHEN: 7/31 (Wednesday) - 8/4 (Sunday)
WARNINGS: Will edit as needed.
SUMMARY: Max's triumphant(?) return to the City.
FORMAT: Tagger's choice.


I. blood
[ It's instinct, by now; react to the unfamiliar by trying to control it. It doesn't take Max Lord long to remember the City, but once he realizes where he is his first reaction is to hide himself. Hide himself in plain sight, as is his M.O.

His powers were still spotty, of course, just slightly; he could put up a sort of mental barrier around himself, a mental suggestion in people's that he was someone to be ignored and walked past, but the range and effectiveness of his powers were not to their usual standard -- if someone happened not to be affected they would certainly notice that his face was bleeding, however much he tried to obscure the fact with a handkerchief clamped against his lips and nose. Oh well; as long as no one blew a whistle on him before he could put a nice innocuous bow on his reappearance, that was good enough. He would otherwise just walk along as if nothing was wrong. ]

II. park/sightseeing
[ It's lucky that Max Lord Enterprises is still in business -- not that he was worried, he'd structured it to be self-running in the event of his untimely departure -- and luckier still that Max's abilities allow him to check in and resume his usual spot smoothly.

Once that's sorted, he takes the afternoon off. Summer makes for nice weather (even in New York), nice for finding a place to sit down, grab a paper and people-watch. Discreetly, of course. ]

III. shopping
[ Max doesn't have "the look" of an imPort, which usually works to his advantage. When he was here before, sure, he put his business-face on, but blending in is a skill of his. He looks like just a normal guy.

A normal guy with a teal suit jacket and a checkered tie, trying on a slick pair of sunglasses with magenta frames. His fashion taste is as always impeccable, and thankfully the City gives him the chance to express it. All black can be a little stifling sometimes. ]

Comments

i.

[topslug]

[ She's not much to look at herself -- certainly nothing about her is an obvious indicator of her ImPort status -- but she flits through the streets of the City with a firm purpose in mind.

Namely, trying to get to her favorite deli across town before the lunch rush starts in earnest.

In her rush, though, she isn't paying as much attention to where she's going as she should. When a spot in the crowded street clears, she doesn't think twice before darting for it, hoping to find a way to work around the press of people. But it's not as clear as she thought, and her eyes widen, pulling herself up short to avoid nearly hurtling into the man who's -- bleeding? The automatic apology dies in her throat, and her eyes widen. ]

Are you all right, sir?

[retconman]

[ Max isn't paying much attention, either; he's confident, overly so, that he's persuading people to give him a wide enough berth that it won't be a problem. Obviously it's an overestimation.

Looking briefly perturbed he stops short as well, pressing his handkerchief a little more fully against his face and, after a moment, nodding his head. ]

It looks worse than it is, don't worry. [ His eyes crinkle a little, making it evident he's smiling despite his mouth being mostly obscured. ] Vertigo, that's all; I've got a sensitive constitution. Sorry to have disturbed you any, Miss.

[topslug]

[ The shift in his demeanor doesn't escape her attention, and she pauses before nodding, hand on hip. It seems odd, to her, that everyone else continues to pass by them; while she recognizes that not everyone cares to speak to every stranger with a bleeding face that they pass by on the road, there's something almost odd about the situation, though she can't place it quite yet.

The man, though, does inspire some recognition. In fact, she's almost certain she's seen it before... if she could see his whole face, maybe she could tell. But for now, she shakes her head. ]

You should get out of the sun when you can. [ Inspiration strikes, though, and she raises a hand, aiming to brush it against his other wrist as she steps to the side to move around him. She hasn't had much practice with her powers, but since coming back from New Vesuvius, she's used them here and there, giving NOHoPE workers a gentle boost after the end of a tiring day.

The man looks like he could use it. ]

[retconman]

[ He's already shaking his head as she continues speaking, trying to brush the concern off. It's nothing -- really nothing -- he's interested in dealing with, but it would be just his luck he'd run into some kind of determined good samaritan. ]

It's f--

[ When her hand touches him, blood bursts more strongly from his face, his eyes and ears joining the flood as his powers suddenly enhance almost explosively. His mind, on autopilot, shoves out the command forget at anyone near that he can reach, persuading that his presence or identity be forgotten. He has to jolt a step backwards, coughing blood into her handkerchief too. ]

Ggguh. Mother of God. What's going on now?

[topslug]

[ The moment she touches him and her power kicks in, Yako's friendly and concerned gaze goes entirely blank, all memory of speaking with someone suddenly wiped from her mind. Her hand drops away from his when he steps back, and her expression wrinkles, momentarily lost. Glancing from one side to another, her sudden disorientation is obvious enough. She's not the only one affected, she realizes, as other pedestrians share the same look, though they're quick to move on.

What is she doing here? Why did she stop walking? At a loss for an answer, she glances down, trying to retrace her steps, before catching sight of the blood that's dropped onto her arm.

Memory comes back in a rush, and her head lifts sharply. ]

Oh no -- I'm so sorry, I didn't think that would -- [ She's getting odd looks from the people passing by, she realizes. To them, she's talking to air. Realization dawns. ]

You're an imPort, aren't you?

[retconman]

[ By the time Yako snaps out of it -- Max hadn't even fully noticed the affects, honestly, too busy dealing with his overload -- he's done his best to clean up his face, mopping around under his nose and mouth and ears so that reddish smears rather than thick, coppery drips decorate his face. His handkerchief has about exhausted its usefulness.

With irritation -- at the question, since the circumstances are more a confusion -- he looks back at her. ]

Not your fault. I seem to have had a bit of a malfunction. [ He shakes his head. ] I take it you are?

[topslug]

[ It is her fault, but Yako doesn't care to dwell on that for the moment, fishing not a handkerchief but a pack of tissues out of her bag and offering the entire thing to Max. ]

I am. My name is Yako Katsuragi.

3.

[viced]

[ Shops are certainly not his usual haunts, and he doesn't necessarily head to them all the time, but as a politician, staying up to date on the latest trends, at least the nicest and newest suits is something he has to do. Which means he just happens to be in the same shop that a rather delightful, teal-clad individual happens to be in.

He stops, head tipping because he hadn't seen him in a while, and there's a smile for him. The kind of wry, 'well how the fuck about that' smile. He hadn't seen Max in a while, and thought he'd been ported out.

Either he was back, or the guy had laid low for a while. Not that Mitch would be surprised by either. He gave him a wave, eyebrows quirking in something of a curious, wry smile. ]

Well, fuck me sideways, Max?

[retconman]

[ Tensing slightly at first, Max doesn't move, simply examining his reflection -- and the reflection of the person speaking to him -- in a mirror for a moment. Mitch Hundred. All right; he decides he can acknowledge this one, so he turns, smiling and peering over the glasses frames. ]

In the flesh. Mitch? Great to see you. It feels like just yesterday.

[viced]

[ If he tipped his head slightly, at the entire ensemble (and not just the sunglasses, but those were a crime against something) well, who could blame him? He still smiled, friendly enough. He wasn't exactly going to call a guy out on shitty fashion sense.

That was a good way to get yourself in hot water, who knew when the media was around, and Mitchell -- who could normally tell -- couldn't right now. His eyes scanned the store just a bit too erratically, still reeling from the changes to his powers.

A month really wasn't that long, for him. ]

Yeah, it does. How've you been?

[ He held out a hand, giving him that usual, politician's grin. ]

[retconman]

[ Tilting his head back slightly, Max contemplated the question before he slid the sunglasses further down his nose, eyebrows raised, and shrugged one of his shoulders. Where to start, really; Max's prime directive at the moment was to keep things as simple as possible. Nothing to report. Especially nothing of interest. ]

About the same. Sort of how it goes, though, isn't it? All fair on the Eastern front, you know me. What about you, Mitch?

[ He met Mitch's hand in a shake, raising his eyebrow higher. ]

[viced]

[ His head tipped, only slightly, even while he shook his hand for the usual, perfect amount of time, before returning it to his side. Still, he offered Max the smile, not letting it drop. ]

Well, shit's always crazy where I'm at, so I guess same old for me too. Although I don't know if I'd always call it fair.

[ With some people, it may have sounded like complaining, but with Mitchell,it was a statement of fact, and if anything, it sounded like he enjoyed it. So few people could enjoy stressing themselves out every day, but apparently the Mayor did. ]

You, ah, doing some shopping?

[retconman]

Sure, that's the nature of politics. Business. So on. Not really callings that lend themselves to any respite, but that's part of the entire point.

[ He took the glasses off, shrugging his shoulders. ]

Well, I needed new clothes. Everybody does at some point, right?

II / sunday

[boobwindow]

[ Peej's head has been swimming with so many questions the past few days she feels she may actually drown at any given moment. She's been on edge more than she wants to. She knows and hates it -- she hates feeling this much. If she's not about to slip under the weight of her current situation, she's going to explode from the inside out.

The universe is screwing with her again. She's happy to be reunited with her dead best friend, but it doesn't bode well for her either. The last time she came this close to attaining happiness -- something from her past -- the universe nearly went to hell.

Initially, her romp through the park was to get some fresh air and clear her head. It doesn't help much. She buys a couple of hot dogs from a vendor and floats away, scarfing them down in the hopes maybe she can just eat these feelings away.

As she hovers above everyone else, she scours the crowd -- for no particular reason -- she's observing how they go about their stress free day.

And that's when she spots him. Sitting there like the others, like he's a part of this innocent scenery and anger boils within her. Innocent is not a word she associates with Maxwell Lord these days.

In less than a second she zips over to where he is and her hands latch onto the back of his shirt, hauling him up and away from the bench and above the trees along with her. ]

I'm not going to catch a break here, am I?

[retconman]

[ It's sudden, which certainly doesn't work in Max's favor. He isn't, after all, a telepath, he has to rely on regular human senses to notice people before he can consider using his abilities.

He has time to register two things: He's in the air.

And it's Power Girl that's holding him. Really, Power Girl?

It's the last thing he needs (or second to last, or maybe third if he's counting Booster Gold), but there's no time to even think about that; he's got a split second to both decide how to react and actually react. He kicks his legs, shrieking in his surprise before he narrows his eyes and puts on his best, loud Max voice: ]

Karen -- Karen, have you lost your mind?!

[boobwindow]

[ She can hardly believe he's here in the flesh, but Helena did say the Porter worked as resurrection technology, too. Not to mention Max was apparently one of those Black Lantern zombies Wonder Woman had trouble with.

Boy, does she wish the Amazon warrior was here. Her hands are full enough.

His reaction startles her and leaves her perplexed, but she quickly recovers and keeps her hold on him. ]

I'm still wondering. [ Her answer is cold and hardly amused, but with a hint of confusion. ] Let's make this easy: what are you doing here?

[retconman]

That's-- well, that's a loaded question.

[ Max has his hands up, pacifying, looking down at the ground over his shoulder before he looks back at her with appropriately wide eyes. ]

Here being this world, this park, or up in the air? Because you'll know the answer to the last one better than me. So how about you put me down?

[boobwindow]

[ She has to wonder why he isn't putting up a fight, but that's better for her. ]

Let's go somewhere quiet, then.

[ Away from all these people, some of whom are staring up at the scene unfolding above them. She zips away from the park, headed in the harbor's direction. It only takes a few seconds (she could go faster, but she doesn't want Max barfing on her), but she eventually lowers them both to an isolated dock.

She's still holding onto his collar. ]

How long have you been here?

[retconman]

[ If Max learned anything during his time in the City last time, it's that playing innocent goes the furthest, even to the people who have seen him at his worst. As long as he commits. ]

Sure. Whatever you want.

[ He smiles nervously, then yelps and grips her shoulders for anchorage when they suddenly zip away toward the harbor. He takes a moment to catch his breath, face legitimately a little pale (but due to motion sickness, not fear). ]

I just got here. Er-- [ He holds out his hands, frowning down at hers on his collar. ] A couple of days ago. Listen, put a pause on the interrogation for a moment, would you? You're wrinkling my shirt.

1?

[not_really_charlie]

[Charlie's mind is occupied. Her computer might be stashed away in her bag, but that doesn't stop Charlie from interfacing with it. She's busy typing commands - an maybe it's the fact that her brain's literally half computer right now that saves her from being affected by his powers.

Because when she glances up from her internal tech-world, the first thing she notices is his blood. If she had actually been holding her computer, she might have dropped it from shock.]

Holy frack!

[retconman]

Huh?

[ Max is so preoccupied with his own thoughts her voice cuts right through, jolting him back to reality. His powers for the most part kept anyone out of his way, but obviously not 100%. He presses the cloth to his face a little harder, trying to mop it clean. ]

Oh -- sorry, m'am. Didn't bump you, did I?

[not_really_charlie]

I'm a little more worried about the blood-face thing. [She's staring at it, now that it's got her attention. No distracting her from it now.

[retconman]

Don't worry about it.

[ He finished cleaning the blood off himself, putting his handkerchief away with an exhale. ]

See? Better. I have a migraine problem.

[not_really_charlie]

Migraines don't make your head bleed. Usually.

I've had them.

[retconman]

Mine do. Nosebleeds. Not the end of the world, it all amounts to, uh... sinus, blood pressure, that boring stuff that varies person to person. Nothing that can't be managed.