Sara Smith

Sara Smith third year medical student at arcadia university ...might also be a superhero?

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

arcadibuzz:

“The bedsheet rope trick is always a solid backup plan,” Carlos says, nodding sagaciously. Even if smoke signals and the like, he’s sure they could figure something out. After all, they’re superheroes, apparently. A superhero who can’t even save himself is a pretty lame one. Okay, maybe that’s a personal thing, but he’s nevertheless optimistic.

He lets Sara flip through folders, and while doing so examines the room. Not much to see here, really. The Paragons and their associates would hold meetings here, probably. He can imagine Mayor McCain in this chair here, overseeing things. The chalkboard is pretty old-school, but given that everything’s busted all to hell, something newer might not work now. If he ever needs a big, public place to write things, it’s as good as any.

“Hmm?” Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, stairs it is.” He circles the table and then hesitates, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. Sara would be behind him, where he can’t see her. No, don’t be stupid, he tells himself, she’s not going to do anything. She seems too sensible to knife someone an hour into this ordeal. Besides, if she were to, he’d just … …

“This way,” he says uselessly, stepping into the hallway and holding the door for her. The hallway’s cramped and dark, and he doesn’t like it. A place to avoid. At least there are four easy outs- no, stop thinking like that, things will be fine.

“I wonder what happened to this place,” he muses, kicking dust and dirt off the floor. “You’d think Paragon Tower’d be the safest place in the city.” More importantly, where are the Paragons? Why does the guy on the recording now have control over the Paragons’ home base?

He feels like learning the answers to those questions might not actually help him. Might make things worse. Scarier. He can’t help wonder, though. Maybe he’s been a reporter too long. Curiosity is just in his nature.

Oh. She hopes he wasn’t actually taking the bedsheet thing seriously. She has to resist the urge to explain that it had been a joke and the exact science behind why it was actually impossible, in detail. But she has a rule for these kinds of things, and the rule is that if you ever want to explain a joke unprompted: don’t. Even if she really wants to. It’s just not worth it.

Carlos seems decent enough, though. Nice enough. Doesn’t really give off murder vibes, as far as she can tell.

But she’d only spoken to him for the first time five minutes ago, after they’d both heard that recording. Assuming the hero thing was true (and after seeing a certain profile she was far too familiar with on this table, she was willing to consider it) the people here lead double lives. Heroes or not, they were probably all good at acting, lying, pretending. So whether she thought Carlos seemed like a good guy or not really didn’t matter right now, did it? It’s why she wants him to lead the way. And he even holds the door for her. What a gentleman. 

“I know I thought so.” Specifically, she remembered thinking that any supervillain would have to be crazy to step foot anywhere near the place, especially on a night like last night. “And the gala probably had to have been the highest concentration of heroes the city can offer, right? It’s hard to believe anything could’ve happened at all.”

She ends up speeding up a bit to walk alongside him down the hall. Tactical advantage or not, having a conversation from behind just felt weird. And being sideways relative to someone else would made her a smaller target, anyway.

“And if we’re still here, then what happened to everyone else? And then there’s the clothes situation. I still have plenty of questions. Not sure if I want to know the answer to most of them.”

Especially not after how the last time any of her questions had been answered went – namely, why she was in Paragon Tower with a bunch of supposedly random strangers. ‘Oh, you’re all superheroes, and by the way there’s a forcefield and also you’re supposed to kill each other.’ If the recorded voice thing decides to tell them more about what happened, it’d probably come along with the dog-delivered news of a zombie apocalypse outbreak. Or something even worse that she can’t think of, because she’s too preoccupied by the vague feeling of impending doom to be creative right now.

“…Have you ever seen that dog before, though?” For one weird, long moment when the dog had first appeared, her mind had jumped to Doctor Fido. Which made no sense at all. The guy seemed mostly harmless, not to mention that he was neither a shapeshifter nor an actual dog. “I don’t know if old dog messengers are the trademark of some supervillain I haven’t heard of, or…” She trails off. It’s kind of a long shot, anyway.

[waiterwithasideproject-blog]

Doctor Doctor|Chapter 1|Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

medicalsmith:

waiterwithasideproject:

Lord. This girl was boring. She was a good student in that almost laughably unrealistic way that really really should not even exist. Writing about medicine when she was in second grade. Reading about it just because she thought it was fun. Who thought that?? All he’d ever seen of medicine was either disgusting or boring. Why would you even…?? He’d always just assumed every medicine student was in it for the money. Tragically, he didn’t even think she was lying. He didn’t think she was able to. Or she was just extremely good at it, which was doubtful. At least he was absolutely certain she was telling the truth about not being able to work as a waiter. Which was just twice as sad. Talking to people really was not her strength, that much was painfully clear.

“I work at Le Rossignol.”

He laughed and started awkwardly twirling a streak of his hair around his finger. At least that still looked perfect and soft. On top of everything else, he really did not need his style to slip now.

“You… probably never went there, it’s pretty over the top with how high class it is. Not that I’m saying you’re poor! But, uh, you know. Students, and such. I probably shouldn’t assume…. I mean, you probably don’t even have time to eat somewhere like that anyway.”

Not to mention she’d probably be eating alone. Couldn’t really see her having any friends that wanted more than to copy her homework. He was familiar with the concept.

It was at that point that he was reminded that, oh right, he was “not feeling well”. And that he realized she was clearly trying to cut their conversation short. If he really had been “just trying to be nice”, he wouldn’t have seen a problem at all with leaving. But…. Well, his most natural options were just ending the conversation and letting his questions rest until they met again- he’d have an automatic reason for approaching her, updating on his health, thanking her for her help and such- oooor say something along the lines of his health being perfectly fine and just an excuse to talk to her. He did not want to wait to get to the topic he really wanted to, but the longer he kept this going the shadier he would look. Plus, he’d then have to come up with an unsuspicious reason for why he had wanted to talk to her, and “because you’re cute” may not be the most natural thing for him to say given the situation they were all in. It would take a really focused individual to still be going out of their way for a flirt. And she didn’t even look like she’d believe him. Not to mention he’d be stuck trying to flirt with someone who had the expressive range of a recently purchased rulebook. New, pristine, without any amount of character past what its pages let people see. And for all the info in the world, he still had to seriously ask himself: Was that worth it?

The longer he waited, the more suspicious she would get, so he had to make a decision fast.

“…….Alright.”

He said, slowly. Still unsure what he should do. Could he really afford to wait too long with his research? He was taking a huge risk in letting her off the hook. Heroes or not, his trust in how long it would take for one of them to take the chance to get out of here was limited.

“It’s been nice talking to you, Sara!”

Just a blast.

“If there’s ever anything I can help with, don’t hesitate to ask! I’d hate to not be able to repay you!”

Thanks, she tries. She’s always felt like being a painfully boring person was decent first line of defense against suspicion – doesn’t even have to go that out of her way to accomplish it, either. If it works, it works.

Le Rossignol? She knew about that, vaguely. It was some fancy French place – or, at least she assumed it was French? There was always the chance they’d just slapped on a fancy-sounding foreign word to draw in more people with money to burn. And she saw no reason to be offended, either - Suga was absolutely right, she didn’t remember ever stepping foot in the place. Food was food, after all, and she wasn’t about to spend an extra hundred dollars on atmosphere. She waved it off.

“It’s fine, I’ve never been there. I bet you get good tips, though.” Waiting jobs in expensive restaurants had to be more competitive, right? Which meant that he was probably a really good waiter. Whatever that entailed. People skills, maybe.  

She wasn’t exactly trying to get rid of him – or, technically, she was trying to get rid of him, but only because she wanted to be alone right now. Just so she could just get a minute to herself to sit down and process everything that had happened so far today before it started to really pile up. Including this whole… weird conversation thing, that was just wrapping up. Something about it was bothering her, but she couldn’t place it just yet. Or maybe it was just that – it was too normal. Too… pleasant. Could’ve happened anywhere, and it just seemed out of place when the morning’s events were fresh in her mind and she could still see the broken balcony in the background-

But she was probably just being paranoid. Again. It was fine to pretend things were normal, for now. Probably better to do it while they still could, before something shifted. Once people started looking at the others here with them, the ones who were probably superheroes, and dropped the ‘probably.’

Like right now, with Suga. She’d seen those profiles. Which one was he?

She managed to dredge up one last smile – she’s not really sure when she’d dropped the last one, but she’d never been great at maintaining that kind of thing – and nodded.

“Nice talking to you too. And seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” She debated for a second whether to make some sort of excuse about wanting to take a nap or something, but decided against it. “I’ll see you around.”

There’s a note of finality to it. She shuts the door.

[waiterwithasideproject-blog]

Doctor Doctor|Chapter 1|Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

waiterwithasideproject:

Alright, this was a start. He could hear her tapping her fingers against the door, maybe in annoyance, maybe in nervousness, but it was a start. And for all the work it took to get here (it was a bit like trudging through thigh high mud, which was an experience he had hoped he would not even have to have again in a metaphorical sense) he had at least gotten one interesting point. Independent studies? Could be nothing, of course. But he didn’t even know what that was supposed to BE, so it was hard to tell whether it was the key to figuring things out or not.

“Oh, I’m just a waiter. I used to study but, you know…”

He shrugged noncommittally. He couldn’t not bring it up, could he? Even when the goal wasn’t for her to ask about his life, he couldn’t just let her be the one to get to brag about her smarts just by being in university. Even when “college dropout” sounded nowhere near impressive.

“But wooow, three years? I bet you have to study a lot, huh? Or maybe you already did, what are ‘independent studies’ like? Did you like. Just read up on medicine or something?”

He was aware of how uncomfortable she was, but if she wanted to make this situation less awkward she could always stop looming in the doorway. He, for his part, would gleefully ignore the fact that she did not seem to have any interest in anything resembling social behavior at all. Hell, maybe she was just awkward instead of a total ice queen. If luck was on his side she may even be grateful to have someone talk to her. Probably not though. Luck hadn’t been his strong suit so far.

Okay, she hadn’t anticipated that this encounter would last this long. She’d opened the door expecting… she’s not sure what she’d been expecting, really, but the quick headache diagnosis Suga had requested was already over and done with, and she thought it would’ve ended at that. If he wanted to make the situation less awkward, he could just leave. But for some reason, they were both still standing here. Talking.

“’Just’ a waiter?” She shook her head. “I’d never make it as a waiter. God, just - dealing with people all day. Don’t know how you manage it. Where do you work?”

As for that last part, it didn’t make much of a difference to her – her mom hadn’t even gone to college. Plenty of people didn’t. She’s sure he had his reasons, and she wasn’t about to press him on the details.

“Um… yeah, I’d say it’s pretty time-consuming. There are a lot of things I should’ve been doing, if we weren’t trapped here…” It made for a good excuse, too. Who’d expect a medical student to be a superhero? They don’t have that kind of time on their hands. “But – oh, the studying I did, it was mostly just reading. Nothing fancy. Fixated on medicine as a kid, I guess.” She looked off to the side for a second with a short, muted laugh. “I was the second grader that tried to write a paper about how CAT scans work. The teacher thought my dad was a doctor, or something.” Her dad still likes to bring up that particular parent-teacher conference to embarrass her, sometimes.

She still watched Suga closely. It was starting to bother her, how his balance had been upset by the dizziness, just once, right as he’d mentioned it for the first time. Reminded her of when she used to fake being sick back in high school – but like her high school teachers, she didn’t really have any good reason to call him out on it. …Or maybe she was just being paranoid, again - in which case, she’s a little bit concerned that he’s still standing around chatting with her when he should be resting.

“So, uh – we don’t have to keep talking if you’re not feeling well, Suga. I get that you’re just trying to be nice, but really, it’s not a big deal.”

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

arcadibuzz:

“Hey, Sara, it’s fine,” he says, “We’re all a little wound, you know? No offense taken.” Easy as that. His point still stands, though. He’d rather keep his secret identity to himself, not because he’s worried for his own safety - he’s been through some shit, he can handle it - but for the safety of other people around him. If someone had it out for his hero persona, that’d be dangerous for everyone around Carlos.

Not a pretty thought. He shakes it out of his head. He’s not going to spill that secret anytime soon. And he knows enough to respect others’ privacy too. Which rules out one method of escape. “Full-fledged doctor or not,” he says, “Some medical know-how is welcome. I’m sure you’re great at it.” No sarcasm, either.

“We passed by an elevator, right?” he continues, “And I remember stairs. Those are my next guesses. If we could get to a higher floor or something there might be a way out. Hell, maybe we could get onto the roof and put up a smoke signal or something.” It’s a long shot, but he’s just musing right now, no idea if it’ll pan out. There’s got to be something, though; he’s sure of this.

He unfolds his arms and puts the recording back in his pocket, and forces himself to let go of it. His fingers ache just a little bit from it. “If what the creepy, disembodied voice said is true,” he shrugs, looking over the folders again, “We’re going to be here for a while. Which means I’m not in a huge rush to get moving. So, if you want to keep looking at folders, go ahead.”

He takes the next-closest one. Roulette, apparently. He doesn’t actually know much about her; he knows he didn’t write on her. One of the others did, maybe. He has no idea who she might be, who any of them might be, but he’s not thinking too hard on it. This guessing game thing is a last-ditch resort.

It was a relief to hear that she hadn’t accidentally crossed some kind of line with Carlos, but it still got her worrying about her dad – less about what might happen to him if someone figured out her secret identity than how worried he must be right now, if something big happened last night and she hasn’t answered her phone. She knows he follows the news in Arcadia; he’s called to check up on her after hearing about things that she’d had nothing to do with.

“…Well, hopefully we won’t end up needing any medical help.” Hopefully no one was bothered enough by the recording to jump to something drastic...

For the seventh – eighth? – time today, she took out her phone and tried to turn it on. And then, for the third time today, she considered flinging it into a wall when it refused to work. But if it ever did start working again, she needed it in one piece, so she settles for squeezing it tightly in frustration before slipping the stupid thing back into her pocket.

But stairs? She did vaguely remember passing by a set of stairs, on the way here. “If we can get on the roof, maybe someone can just fly down. Or Tronik could jump, with her fancy kinetic shoes. Or we could just make a rope out of bedsheets.”

There were problems with each of those plans. She hadn’t seen flight listed in any of the profiles she’d looked at so far, for one. Tronik’s profile, which was right in front of her, did say something about shock absorption – but it only refers to a height of several meters, not something as absurd as jumping off of the tower. The bedsheet thing… was just a joke. She’s pretty sure she saw a TV show once that proved the bedsheet-rope thing wasn’t a viable option past a certain height. Maybe smoke signals were the way to go, after all. Regardless, she nods. “But that sounds like a good idea. Let me just…”

She loops around the table, flipping open each unopened folder, not bothering to do much but look at the picture and the name inside each. Just to get an idea - she can always come back later, if she needs to. When she’s finished, she looks back up at Carlos and nods again. “Okay, so... stairs, right? After you.”

[waiterwithasideproject-blog]

Doctor Doctor|Chapter 1|Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

waiterwithasideproject:

He couldn’t blame her for the jumpiness given the situation. So far everyone he had met had the sort of physical calm around sudden movements one may expect from a person used to being unlikely to be hurt by civilians (except, of course, that stuttering mess he’d talked to briefly, how she survived fighting supervillains he would never know). But he could blame her for the curtness. What was this, an actual appointment? He was here to make nice. Most medicine students he’d met were always glad to talk about themselves. Maybe this was a bad time?

Seeing as he had only just met her, he found himself sort of stuck now. He couldn’t just ask questions out of the blue like that, it’d be shady and obvious what he was trying to do. But leaving now would just feel like defeat. She was a stone wall, really. Or a robot. Something like that.

“Y-yeah!”

He said, quickly, before she shut the door on him.

“I mean, thanks! You sure are impressive, have you been studying medicine long?”

At this point he would doubt she even had an ego to stroke, but if he could get just one thing on her that was actually useful to him all of this wouldn’t be a total loss anymore.

She looked at him strangely for a second, a little confused – if she’d been feeling dizzy, she’s not sure she would’ve wanted to hang around and chat for any longer than necessary. But he was probably just trying to be polite.

“Um. Yeah, no problem!” There was a quiet taptaptaptap as she drummed her fingers on the backside of the door. “I’ve been studying it independently for a while, but I haven’t actually been in medical school for all that long, just…” She thought for a second. “About three years, now, at AU. Still have a while to go, though, and then it’d be another few years after I’m done with that to for the residency…”

She hesitated, not sure whether to prolong the conversation any further with anything else or cut it off so he could go and take a nap or something. But. Well. He was still here, and she didn’t know anything about him other than that he’d been having headaches, so she might as well ask if they’re already talking about it.

“So what about you, what do you do?”

[waiterwithasideproject-blog]

Doctor Doctor|Chapter 1|Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

medicalsmith:

waiterwithasideproject:

Back when he’d actually went to college and his life was on a nicely planned track and he’d never have ended up in a place like this for a reason like this, he’d never liked medicine student. They were all, in his eyes, either arrogant brats depending on daddy’s money to make it through, or permanently sleep deprived know-it-alls annoyed at every word anyone ever said. In either case, good only when you needed them. So maybe he was biased. And maybe it was that bias at work. But when She just stared him down, he couldn’t help but feel like she was testing him. Doubting. Which, yes, was fair. In this situation. But at the same time? How dare she not believe his obvious flimsy excuse to talk to her 100% right away?? Eugh. Medicine kids.

He thought back to his excuses to not go to class back in the day. Most of the time he’d just gone for feeling sick, the whole “maybe I ate something bad” deal. But headaches were an easy one as well. Harder to disprove, too.

“Uhm…..”

He thought about it, and in this case genuinely so for once. What set of symptoms seems fair enough here?

“Well it’s sort of thumping? Dull, I’d say, and uuh, more around here.”

He pointed vaguely to the back of his head, with no actual idea if he was actually describing something someone who’d hit his head might feel, but the confidence to just go with his bluff.

“I get a little, uh…”

He made a convincing grab for the doorframe to support himself.

“Dizzy, sometimes.”

This was like some sort of minigame now. Come on. He’d only come here to have her look at a set of symptoms he didn’t have while he asked her about herself. Who’d have thought she’d actually ask questions about those?? He needed to get back on track here.

“I was always a little frail I guess. It’s probably nothing serious, I’d be surprised if others didn’t have similar problems!”

He smiled at her, trying to hint at her talking about HER problems. Come on. Just be social.

It’s slight, but still hard to miss the way she flinches backwards when he grabs at the doorframe in his bout of conveniently-timed dizziness. Nothing specifically against Suga, but she was practically already standing in the doorway – the sudden movement in such close quarters just made her nervous. It was okay to be nervous right now, right? She shifted more towards the door and moved on with the diagnosis, hoping he didn’t take it personally.

“Okay, so a throbbing headache and dizziness… it could be a minor concussion if you hit your head at some point, but if you haven’t had any unusual fatigue or changes in your ability to concentrate, then it shouldn’t be serious. Or maybe a hangover, if you drank a lot of alcohol at the gala?” 

It had been a party, after all, and it’s not like she knew anyone’s drinking habits.

“Either way, the best thing to do right now would just be to make sure you’re hydrated and then get some rest. And let me know if it gets any worse, too, okay? I did talk with a few people right after everyone woke up but I don’t think anyone said anything about dizziness like that, so it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

Sara? Social? Good luck. This hadn’t exactly registered as a social call – he’d shown up asking about a headache because he knew she was a medical student, he’d said that much at the beginning. She figured that was all he’d wanted to know. Still, might as well ask so she doesn’t accidentally slam the door in his face, or something.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

[waiterwithasideproject-blog]

Doctor Doctor|Chapter 1|Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

waiterwithasideproject:

Yup, there she was. Just look at her glancing around. Trying to tell if he was alone, probably. Already skittish, huh? No trust in her skills as a survivalist? Or paranoid. Or bluffing. Pf. Yeah. Probably not that.

Suga put on a polite smile to match her own when he spoke up.

“Hi, uh, Sara right? I’m Suga, nice to meet you!”

He didn’t actually wait for a reply but reached for his head and lightly touched it.

“So sorry to bother you so soon but I heard you were a medical student so I thought you may be able to help me?”

It became apparent to him that this was not a conversation to have in the hallway. He’d sort of just assumed he’d be let in but… given the situation, yeah, it was obvious he wouldn’t be. Not everyone was a pushover. Maybe this one would be, but not everyone was.

“It’s just… I’ve been having these headaches…. Maybe it’s from whatever rendered us unconscious earlier? Maybe I hit my head or something. I just want to make sure it’s not serious, you know?”

Hopefully implying he may have hit his head or whatever was enough to worry her some. Maybe enough to be let in. He couldn’t have this conversation be too short or he wouldn’t get to snoop around at all. Plus, a medical student wasn’t a bad person to have on your side. Not that he thought she’d just refuse to treat anyone because she didn’t like them enough. Who would do that? Human beings. He reminded himself. Human beings would do that.

She opens her mouth to say something in response – nothing important, probably a ‘nice to meet you too’ – but he just plows right on. She leans forward slightly as soon as he mentions headaches, resting her shoulder against the doorframe. She seems interested, but apparently doesn’t see any problem with continuing this conversation right where they are. 

“Oh, a headache? Hm.” She’s quiet for a moment, working through the possibilities. “I haven’t heard anything about anyone else having headaches like that, so it probably wouldn’t be because of whatever knocked us out – unless you specifically had some kind of adverse reaction to it, which probably isn’t likely…”

And if he was, she’s not sure she’d be able to do anything about it without actually knowing what had happened. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn out to be anything serious, since this place wasn’t exactly a hospital. In fact… she doesn’t remember seeing anything more useful than cough drops when she took a look around, earlier.

She shakes her head. Her ponytail does a little flop with the motion. “Anyway, headaches can be a sign of a lot of different things, so it’d help if you could describe it in a little more detail. Like - if there’s a certain spot that feels tender when you touch it or if it feels more internal, whether it’s a sharp or dull pain, if it’s gotten any better or worse since you first noticed it, any other symptoms you’ve been having…?”

Headaches were an incredibly generic symptom - it could really be anything from dehydration to a brain tumor. Probably not a brain tumor, though. There’d been tons of alcohol at the gala, right? Maybe it was just a hangover.

[waiterwithasideproject-blog]

Doctor Doctor|Chapter 1|Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

waiterwithasideproject:

There were more and less interesting people around here.

Interesting? The shady ones. The scientist. The popstar (who he loved). The stargazer with the mysterious family.

Less interesting? His Japanese dancer buddy. The stuttering pathetic mess who couldn’t even clean a single plate right. The skateboarder… waveboarder? Whatever that waste of time was called.

True, he’d have to get to all of them if he wanted to stand a chance at guessing right and getting out of here. And true, the less interesting ones may be harder to figure out than his shady favourites. And yes, he was very committed to not dying. But that didn’t make it any less boring. Well, looking at the list he’d found in his room (he WAS on it…..) he had at least found one thing of interest though. Probably too obvious, but had he heard about a medical student earlier on? The mousey brown haired one running around fixing people up earlier. He’d avoided her. He had no injuries, and also no love for being bored to death. Now that would be a murder. It took some asking around to figure out her name, but at least someone had some interest in remembering someone apparently so uninteresting and plain, and so he ended up in front of her door at last.

Simple enough, he had “a headache” maybe from falling earlier or from the shock. He’d heard someone mention a medical student so here he was, looking for help, trusting her immediately of course because why wouldn’t he?

He knocked on the door softly. Wondering if she was even there. If she wasn’t then oh well. She’d still be around later. Unless she had gotten herself killed this quickly. That’d be amazing. Finally something that’d be actually impressive instead of making people roll their eyes for being an obvious brag. Medicine students. Thought they were so great. Well, let’s see how this one compared to his expectations.

She could really only take so much in one day before she needed a break, so it was a relief to find that they’d been provided a decent place to sleep – and that she’d get the room to herself, too. Room thirteen. A room with a lock, thank god. …Not that locks would mean much to some of the people here, judging by what she’d seen in those profiles earlier. But still, it was -

Oh, come on. She’d been here for five minutes, and there was already someone at the door?

The handle turns a few seconds later, the door opening only a foot or so – enough that Sara could look out at her visitor with surprise and a polite smile while still blocking most of the doorway with her body. One hand rested on the back of the door, the other on its side. 

“Um. Hello.”

She glances at the door itself, to double-check that she hadn’t somehow wandered into the wrong room by mistake – god, that would be embarrassing – but no, that was definitely her name on the nameplate. So why was he here?

“…Can I help you with something?”

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

stargazelongintoanabyss:

Cassie has never spent a single moment of her misanthropic, lonely life not being passive-aggressive. Her own instinct to deny anything and everything had started dissolving quite thoroughly once she’d started suspecting the potential links between sixteen people with no immediately obvious connection other than attendance at the gala. Having her suspicions confirmed, she wasn’t about to question the evidence that had confirmed it. 

She smirks a little at Sara’s relenting, still not quite meeting her eyes. “Congratulations. You’re not in denial. People who are able to step out of that mindset and accept the reality of the situation… have a baseline amount of self-control and intelligence. Good for you.” It’s actually hard to tell if that ‘good for you’ is meant to be sarcastic or not. 

It seems like she’s completely incapable of staying still, as her hands go from fiddling with her fingers to adjusting her coat buttons and cape. “It’s also smart to try and verify things, though. Being sceptical is… a useful quality. Especially in a situation where you can’t really trust anybody.” Of course, for Cassie, every situation is a situation where she can’t really trust anybody. 

“I also wanted to look at the profiles, to… find out what I’m up against, I guess. Know your enemy, even if I don’t really want anyone to be my enemy. I’m not sure if. They’ll extend the same kindness to me.” She steps closer, taking a look at the folders over Sara’s shoulder. “Cassandra Penelope Blackwood. But feel free to just call me Cassie whenever you feel the need to talk about me behind my back.”   

If it’s sarcasm, it doesn’t really register with Sara. Even so, it could hardly be considered a compliment in the first place – but she’s happy enough to hear that this total probably-a-superhero stranger didn’t think she was a complete idiot right off the bat.

She nods, though she’s focusing on the table rather than actually looking at Cassie. She trusted that recording about as far as she could throw it – no, bad example. With how small the actual device had been, she was pretty sure she could probably chuck it pretty far if she wanted to. The point was that anyone could say whatever they wanted to and get a dog to be their proxy, but these folders could be evidence that the voice on the recording wasn’t messing around.

“Right. Better not to rely on people you don’t know well.” Even if the people in question were literal superheroes. If anything, that almost made things worse. “Heroes… they’re probably good people, but they also have to be good liars. I don’t know how they think.”

With all sixteen profiles now opened and arranged in a neat grid, she shifts a bit to the side to give Cassie more room to see better. Sara recognized pretty much all of these heroes – and she was even a pretty big fan of a least a few. But the thought of being trapped here with such powerful people, with the threat of a free-for-all hanging over everything… She had to squash down a fresh wave of panic. Especially since one of those profiles was hers, after all. Definitely not ideal. Definitely made her want to leave the room behind and go right back to the familiar comfort of denying that she was a hero at all, but it was already too late for that. For now, she just had to stand her ground, try to think clearly through the volatile cocktail of emotion - something between grave concern and nausea, right now.

She grips the edge of the table and sighs, hard, trying to get it out of her system. “…Okay. So it looks like they probably weren’t bluffing?” She looks to Cassie for confirmation. “Still, I don’t intend to fight anyone here.” A pause. “But I guess that’s what anyone would say. Hm.”

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

arcadibuzz:

“Nice to meet you, Sara,” he says. It’s in his disposition to make friends with everyone but he’s half-thinking that really trying at it might be good. Given the circumstances and all. “Med school, huh? I’ve heard that’s tough stuff, but hey, if you’re that dedicated to it, power to you ‘n all. Gonna be saving lives one day, yeah?” One day, because, you know, he’d rather not have anyone die.

His eyes flick away from her, just momentarily, barely noticeable. “You know your way around medicine, yeah? That’s good. That’ll help, I think.” He isn’t sure if there’s much in the way of medicine around here, but it’s a nice thought. Maybe she could at least keep anyone from bleeding out.

Any advantage was welcome, really.

He’s about to say something, not realising that she is too. He frowns, and folds his arms - the recording still in his hand. He’s turning it over and over in his fingers. He’s not sure why. “That’d be nice, yeah?” He doesn’t sound like he means it. “But that’d mean, y’know, matching everyone up. Let’s say I am one of these heroes. I’m not sure I want anyone knowing which. All of these heroes have pissed off some very bad people, and I sure as hell don’t want them coming after me - or my coworkers, or my mamá, you know?”

He shakes his head, quickly, like he’s clearing it out. He is. Alright, sue him, he’s worried. He’s trying to be as confident as he can but, like, forgive him if that’s a little strained right now.

“I hate to be that guy,” Carlos says, “The one who’s scared of everyone else. Those are the ones that make mistakes. But you learn to keep your secrets real close.” He stops turning the recording over, instead drumming his fingers against it. “Besides, I don’t trust it. That’s playing right into this sicko’s hands. There’s gotta be another way out, and I’m gonna find it.” The smile is back, the confidence is back.

“Nice to meet you too.” Her voice jumps up at the end, like it’s a question – could she really consider it to be nice to meet anyone right now? Did it matter? It occurred to her that Carlos was probably an actual superhero. Then it occurred to her that everyone she’d already met, before the dog-delivered recording had appeared, and everyone she was going to meet in this building were all also literal, actual superheroes. She waited a second for the fresh wave of panic to hit, but the response was lackluster. A tiny pang of anxiety, nothing more. Maybe she’d already hit her saturation point for the day.

Ah, medical school. Some of the people she’d met there considered it hell in no uncertain terms, but she’d be glad to get back to it now. There were plenty of different reasons everyone had to be there, but there was always that one right answer – the one that sounded better than going after the prestige or paycheck that came from the profession. How many of them actually meant it when they said they wanted to help people? Saving lives. “…Yeah. One day.” It comes out flatter than she’d meant it to.

After a second, she nods with more certainty, pushing back whatever was bothering her. “Right. I’m in my third year, so I’m not a full-fledged doctor or anything - but I’ve been studying this sort of stuff for a long time. I know what I’m doing.”

Her confidence falters, though, as her thoughts wander back to the profiles, the ones she still hadn’t opened. If someone turned out to have healing powers, something much faster, more efficient, it might not be as useful as she thought.

“I didn’t mean – sorry. I don’t want anyone to know, either, and there’s my dad to think about, and I just… the thing in the recording, about the forcefield, I’m worried about that. I tried to get those doors open earlier, they wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t figure out why.” A pause. “I don’t… have anything else I could try now, either. Not for a door. I don’t know what to do.”

She looks back at the table. The guessing game seemed like the better option – better than literal murder which, granted, wasn’t hard to beat. But even if pursuing this option seemed better now, even if it could mean that no one would die, maybe he was right. Maybe there really was another option. Or maybe he was planning to kill her right now and it was all an elaborate trap and-

“Okay,” she says, a bit too loudly, interrupting her own train of thought. “I mean – yeah. Let’s look for another way out, first.” Another pause. “Did you mean right now, or did you want to look through the rest of these, first?”

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

stargazelongintoanabyss:

If she was asked about it, Cassie would confidently declare that her first instinct after the message had been delivered was to go and find the information that had been promised them. And it was, she reasoned as she began to look around, the first thing she’d done. After the panicking and freaking out and hiding, of course, but that didn’t count.  

Whether she decided to go along with this whole thing or not, it would be a good idea to know who she’d be up against, after all. So it was with that reasoning that, after checking the kitchen and gift shop to no avail, she finds herself entering the meeting room. And oh, look it’s got one of her least favourite things in it: another human being. 

Maybe, she hopes, if she just doesn’t say anything, she can just walk up to the table and take a look at some folders without the other person noticing her, and she won’t be drawn into, god forbid, a conversation. The plan is going perfectly well until Sara turns to look at her and she steps back, almost flinching with shock. Unable to make eye contact, she stares intensely at the table, nodding softly and grimacing. 

“Sure you’re not… you’re just a perfectly normal person. I mean, people go to extraordinary lengths to kidnap… ordinary people all the time, right? That’s thing, isn’t it.” She shakes her head. “You’re not… going to fool anyone.” Although her words are bitter, her tone is soft, and she seems to stumble over her words a little, as if speaking at all is daunting to her. “I mean, I don’t want to… make any judgements, but… in a situation like this, the first people who are going to suffer the consequences are. The people who are too busy being in denial to deal with things. Right?” 

She clasps and unclasps her hands, tapping her fingers against each other in a nervous habit. “So… I mean, if you want to survive… all of this, which I’m going to take the liberty of assuming you do. Might as well accept the situation. That’s why. You’re here. Right? It’s why I’m here. To get a better grasp on… the situation. Because I’m smart. Don’t know about you. Guess we’ll see.”   

That was… this was… the most weirdly direct passive-aggressive prod she’d ever been on the receiving end of. It caught her off guard, honestly. Enough to pierce through the haze of automatic defense and denial she propped up whenever superheroes came up and remind her that it was really only meant to work in a bigger crowd, where the chances of meeting a superhero were one in a hundred thousand rather than one in… one. Which was the situation, here. Apparently.

She could also keep up with the act of blatant denial out of spite. The stress and excess nervous energy really makes it sound like a good option. But… like she said. She wasn’t going to fool anyone. No point in trying, huh?

“…Fine.” Her shoulders relax a degree, and she seems relieved, almost, to let it drop. Always more time to panic later, right? She could keep putting it off until there’s a nice, quiet moment where she can be alone and absolutely flip out in a private corner. She’s not sure she’s capable of simultaneously dealing with it and not being in denial, though. She’s just going to do neither. Move forward, for now. “Thanks. I needed that, I think.”

Watching her fiddle with her fingers like that really makes Sara want to start biting her own nails, or something. Instead, she peeks inside the folder she’d picked up - though she’s too distracted to actually process anything written on the profile with that brief of a glance. Whoops.

“Surviving is good. I came here to…” She hesitates for a second. “I wanted to make sure one of these profiles was really mine. If mine’s not here, that would cast doubt on everything else said on that recording. If I am,” she continues, laying the mystery folder back on the table, “it probably means everyone else’s is accurate, too. Won’t know who’s who, but we’ll know who’s here.”

She looks back over the table, counts the folders. Sixteen, just like the recording had said. She grabs the few closest, flips them open, arranges them neatly in a row. Carefully doesn’t look at any one of them in particular for too long.

“…My name’s Sara, by the way,” she adds, as she continues to organize the profiles. Tacking on a ‘nice to meet you’ at this point seems inappropriate, somehow, so she leaves it out.

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

arcadibuzz:

Carlos makes sure to walk around the table, to stay within in sight of Sara. Sneaking up on her, intentionally or not, wouldn’t do anyone any good. He’d be lying if he said he isn’t feeling a bit spooked by all of this. Murder? Secret identities? There’s a hell of a lot at stake here.

But he’s Carlos Capello, intrepid reporter. He had been at Vortex as soon as he’d heard the news about the Burden, with Animalice still out there. He hadn’t run away the last time FENRIR appeared. He’d walked into Black Smoke territory, head held high. Stupid? Probably. But there are no stories in safe places. Carlos has learned to be brave, because bravery is rewarded.

And so, now, he holds his head high. He’s not going to shy away from this, or retreat to safety. What is there to gain from that? Besides, he can handle himself. He’s a goddamn superhero.

“It’s fuckin’ insane,” he agrees. He looks weirdly casual; weight leaned on one foot, hands in his pockets, easy half-smile on his face. It’s a front, obviously. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs. But he has to try. “But, you know, if what the weird computer voice said is true, we’re all more than capable of handling ourselves. Even you, I’d wager. Even if you’re not a superhero, like you say.”

He still has the recording, in his pocket. He’s turning it over and over in his hand. It scares him, but that’s why he has it. He glances over the folders, taking in the names. He’s reported on most of these people. And they’re all here, were all the people standing around the hall moments again. He sees himself there on the table, and it makes his heart beat even harder for a moment.

He clenches his fingers around the recording, holding in the urge to grab his folder. That’d be pretty fucking obvious. Instead, he flips open the one closest to him. Lady Moon. Quite a character, that one.

“Maybe I am,” he shrugs, “Or not. If I’m not, and you’re not, then what are these here for?” He glances back up at Sara. “Look, I’m not going to pry. I don’t think any of us want that. And I’m not going to do anything, to you or to anyone else. But… we gotta be careful, yeah? Whether this is real or not, we’re in some hot water.”

He flips the folder shut. “Name’s Carlos Capello, with Arcadibuzz. I’m going to do my best to get to the bottom of this shit. I figure I’m made for it, yeah?”

“I’m not,” she automatically insists, but it sounds pathetic even to her. It’s not like she has any evidence to back it up – that recording was the only information they’d been given, and if it was to be believed, her very presence here was enough to – maybe not prove it, but if everyone else here was actually a superhero then oh god that had to mean that someone knew she was too, and that was bad bad bad.

She’s just on edge. About everything. Including Mr. Calm Guy over here.

She watches him closely, but seems to relax a little once the table’s put between them. Enough to take her eyes off of him long enough to check the contents of the folder she’d snatched. Feline Fiasco? She almost smiles at the memory of how a friend of hers had never let her forget the one time she’d misspoken and called him Cat Disaster – but something in the profile catches her eye. She brings the entire folder up, holding it inches from her face, because there was just – no way. Unless there was. Which there wasn’t. After several seconds of intense squinting, she drops the folder back on the table like it’s on fire and takes a step back, returning her attention to Carlos.

“I don’t know, okay? We don’t know if that dog was lying - that recording, I mean.” Relieved that he was just politely implying that she was lying rather than outright accusing her, she takes a few seconds to get her thoughts in order before she’s ready to say anything else. Deep breaths. She nods. “Whatever happens, I’m just going to try to make sure no one gets hurt. It doesn’t matter whether I’m a hero or not.”

And this guy was… a reporter? Any thoughts of blabbing her secrets went straight out of the window. Not that she’d really been considering it in the first place – but, god, maybe telling someone would make things easier to deal with. One less thing to stress about. Just... not a reporter.

“My name’s Sara Smith. I’m a medical student over at AU. And… if there’s anything I can do to help with that, let me know. -Anything reasonable,” she added.

Superheroes were cool. They were pretty awesome. She was honestly even a pretty big fan of some of them, but the idea of facing off against a superhero was just… not something she liked to imagine. Ever.

“If…” She paused, thinking. “If we figure out who’s who, someone could leave. And get help. That’s what that recording said, right? No one would have to die.”

With that, she drifts over to another folder, opens it up – Tronik, this time – and starts scanning through it.

[medicalsmith-blog]

Delay | Chapter 1 | Open

…A dog? That was a dog. There was a dog on the balcony, and then it was on the ground floor, and now it’s gone again.

Of all the possibilities she’d imagined new information would come from, this hadn’t been on the list. Frankly, she was still having trouble processing all of it, even after she’d calmly walked into the meeting room. Except that was a lie, because she wasn’t calm, and while she hadn’t exactly been running, she was going just about as fast as her feet could take her while still keeping at least one foot on the ground at a time.

Because she had to know. Dubious information delivered via dog aside, the idea that everyone here – including the people she’d talked to not five minutes ago, including her - everyone here was supposedly a superhero aside, that whole… thing about murder and forcefields and rules aside, she was kind of freaking out the most about the guessing game.

She was definitely freaking out about everything else, too, don’t get her wrong. But if the dog knew which sixteen out of the whole of the gala were the right heroes to provide the profiles of – wait, no, not the dog, the dog’s owner, whoever had recorded that voice message, dogs couldn’t talk – then that would imply they knew everything. Enough. Too much.

She froze with her hand on an unopened manila folder, though. On second thought, she… really didn’t want to know. Not at all. Nope. Was she panicking? Probably. Yes. It was mostly internal, though. On the outside, she was busy staring a hole through the table, trying to decide whether or not to open it-

Right up until someone gets within a three foot radius of her, at which point she nearly jumps out of her skin. She recovers quickly – though she almost wishes she would pass out or have a heart attack or something, just to get a break from all of this – and plants a hand hard on the table, right on top of the folder, as she turns to face them. She has no clue whose profile it actually contains, but still. Don’t touch it.

“This is crazy,” she says, agitated. And then, because she can’t think of anything else to say- “This is crazy.” Then lower, almost as an afterthought, “…I’m not a superhero, okay? I’m not. None of us – you’re not, are you?”

Her eyes flick to the folder again, and she picks it up and hugs it to her chest. She still hasn’t actually opened it yet.

“…This isn’t good. I feel like bad things are going to happen. There’s no way anyone would...”

She mumbles that last part more to the floor - which probably doesn’t care, one way or the other.

[shslpopper]

Smooth like liquid | Hayate | Prologue | ATTN: Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

shslpopper:

A name for the mysterious event that has led them to this situation? Well, who would Hayate be if he didn’t at least attempt to help out in any way he could? Furrowing his eyebrows slightly, the young male pondered what they could use to describe this entire ordeal. The Dark Hour? No, why even hour? That sounded like the title of an edgy superhero comicbook. Hm… maybe Shady Event? No, that sounded even worse!

“Um… what about Cloud Zero? I mean, cloud ‘cause everything is hazy to us and zero… well, we don’t know how much time has passed and that sounds like kinda the most neutral number? A-Ahaha, feel free to ignore those suggestions, though! Don’t think I’m the best name giver for any kind of events…!”

Well, you tried, Hayate. That’s something going for you.

As Sara began to talk about the theories he’d offered, he nodded along the way. She was bringing up many good points! Maybe He’d really jumped the gun here, but with superheroes being a normal thing, it was kinda something he’d considered right off the bat. Nothing seemed to be impossible anymore, after all.

“That’s true… it’s either one thing or the other and both don’t really sound much promising. I’d actually be much more okay if this was an alternate dimension, ‘cause… I really don’t like to think that this is the present Paragon Tower. I mean, if it already looks like this here, I don’t wanna imagine how it must look outside.”

The thought alone that something might’ve have happened to everyone he cherished send a cold chill down his spine. Quick, distract yourself!

“Uh, well, I mean, some villains aren’t exactly known for being the most logical folks, right? So maybe they just did it for the hell of it? As for where… uh, I could only think of some kind of deserted island. Maybe, but. Yeah, I guess that idea isn’t so likely, huh?”

He scratched his head and chuckled nervously. Then, Sara asked what time it was, looking at her wrist, but there was no watch to be found. As she’d took out her phone, Hayate did the same, but just as before, it didn’t turn out.

“Yeah, our schedules are definitely messed up by now, but personally, I’m not worried about that. If anything, I just wanna know if my buddies are alright - hell, I’m sure they must be already worried about me not being found anywhere.”

“Uh, but you’re a student? At Arcadia University, right? What do you study?”

Hayate manages one thing, at least - Sara actually cracks a smile at his suggestions. History in the making, here.

“Cloud Zero, huh? It’s got a nice ring to it.” She thinks about it for a second. “But, something about it … I don’t know. Doesn’t really sound like an event to me? It’d make a cool name for a superhero, though.”

Cloud Zero, with the superpowers of… probably something weather-based, right? Or probability, maybe. The name kind of reminded her of electron clouds, which weren’t really clouds at all but a representation of the likelihood that an electron can be found there – and zero was . Maybe some sort of psychic that could see probability densities. That’d be cool.

…What were they talking about, again? Right, what happened. Alternate dimensions, pre-trashed replica island towers. Hayate was right that the alternate dimension idea seemed like the nicest possibility – one that would hopefully come with a convenient exit portal. She drummed her fingers against the counter of the bar as she listened.

“If you don’t mind, can you do me a favor? I’d really like to postpone the mental breakdown I’m going to have about potentially being trapped in an alternate dimension for as long as possible. Just – I can only worry about so many things at once, and I already feel bad about how much my dad’s going to absolutely freak out if I go missing, so adding this to the pile right now is - if I could choose between knowing exactly what happened and going home right now and never finding out, I honestly think I’d just go home. I don’t know if I want to know what happened. All of this speculating, is just – it’s just…”

She waves a hand in the air in a vague gesture when she can’t figure out how to put the feeling into words, then shakes her head.

“Sorry, I’m just – pretty stressed right now. Venting. It’s not your fault. Anyway.” She smiles again. It’s not the most natural looking smile, but she’s mostly trying to hide the embarrassment from freaking out on someone she met, what – five minutes ago? “Yeah, I’m a medical student there. Do you go there, too?”

[medicalsmith-blog]

Triage | Prologue Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

dynamodynamite:

Well geez, he hoped there would be something funnier out of this girl. Like, he understood she’d probably be a bit of a hardass. He doesn’t like to immediately presume how people are, but he was also real to himself. The manner in which people carried themselves around reflected a lot about them as a person. And to him, Sara looked like a plain hardass.

“Well geez louise there, I already said I was just picking on you a bit. Like, you don’t need to be so wordy and. Well, serious. I just wanted to make a point- you’re not bleeding, but no one here is close to fine until we find out what’s going on. In the meantime, save your breath for screaming if something happens. Just say you’re worried about one of these guys here being hurt.”

Nonary quickly puts his hands on his hips. Okay. She could be wordy. She could be indirectly rude by calling out his face. Fine and fine! But there was one thing that stepped over the line. Never criticize his comedic genius. Now he wished that his eye could shoot lasers for such a disgrace on his standing! Just go and pchoo all his problems away!

“The bear needs to explanation! He’s the set up for the joke? What, would grrr-ave be any better? Okay, probably, but I’m not going to stand for a lack of comedy! Lighten up! Start laughing! Like, really, what’s with you?” Nonary scoffs for a moment. “Well maybe you’re plain scary! Why do you need an explanation for everything?”

Now that it was ensured his super cool selfie was lost to the world, Nonary was a bit listless about what course of action to talk. He considered himself a very sociable person. A very busy, sociable person, who doesn’t get out much. But he was sociable nonetheless! It was her fault if things started getting awkward.

“Then why worry about who it encompasses! There’s nothing wrong with it.” The scientist taps his foot. “Fine then, Sara.” Geez, he had really struck out with this group of strangers. No wonder she’s dead inside though- medical school sounds horrible. “Okay, just agree not to hate me until we get out of here, m’kay?”

Nonary was… something, all right. A very frustrating person to be around - was he always like this, or was it just his reaction to everything that was happening? He was probably just always like this. She had a feeling.

“You – wait, you did? Oh.” She’d completely missed that, apparently. Great. She sighs. “Look, I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay. And sure, fine, I’m worried about the people here getting hurt. Why do you have to make fun of me for it?”

Besides, how was she supposed to know that it was rude to ask about people’s glowy face parts? There wasn’t any kind of handbook on face etiquette she could reference for that kind of thing. And that joke was actually… kind of funny, now that she understands it, but she stifles the laugh because he’s getting mad at her for no good reason and this conversation is the exact opposite of what she needs right now.

“Because the things you say don’t make sense to me!” It’s not any louder than anything else she’d said up to now, but the words are sharp. “I’m not good at that kind of thing. I’m sorry if I was rude, I really am, but that’s no reason to just stand there and insult me at every opportunity. All I’m trying to do is help, okay?”

She takes off her glasses, cleans them with the hem of her shirt, jams them back on once she’s finished. They’d barely had anything on them besides a few flecks of dust, but the familiarity of the motion helps her to downgrade her extreme frustration to something more closely resembling… still frustration, actually. But milder.

“One, I never said there was anything wrong with being weird, so I really don’t know why you keep trying to convince me. And two, I’m not going to promise not to hate you. I can tell you that I don’t want to hate you, if that helps, and that I don’t hate you right now.  So whether or not that happens is really going to depend whether you give me a reason to, m’kay?”

[shslpopper]

Smooth like liquid | Hayate | Prologue | ATTN: Sara

[medicalsmith-blog]

shslpopper:

As there wasn’t much else to search through, Hayate followed Sara’s example and stood up as well. At least neither of them would have to look up or down onto someone anymore, because getting a stiff neck now was not something they should be aiming for!

Sticking his hands into his pants pockets, he remained in a rather casual stance as he listened to Sara. Well, she had a point, saying that they had nothing was really not accurate! They did know a bit… not much, but it was still something!

“Oh yeah, I’ve checked the doors as well! Didn’t really seem to budge, but if we can’t figure out anything else… well, as a last resort, we could try and kick them down, right? Even if something is blocking them from outside, we won’t know it until we try, right? But… until then, let’s just search and hope for the best!”

Then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers and if it would really come down to this… well, better a door than them without any water, right?

“Oh, a lockdown? Hm… Y’know, that could certainly be a possibility, but would it really explain all the dust and rust? I mean, unless someone had these kind of powers… but then why aren’t we covered in dust? ‘Course, could mean we were thrown here after whatever did this went somewhere else, but… uh, yeah.”

What an eloquent way to end your sentence, Hayate. We’re all proud of you.

Well, better to answer Sara’s inquiry about his latest memories. He couldn’t really tell her that he’d been one of the guests of the party, so he needed to be a bit vague about it.

“Uh, I remember that there was this big party going on at Paragon Tower. It was covered everywhere from what I remember? I mean, so many famous heroes were assembled, but… I can’t really remember it ever ending?“

"And if you’re willing to listen to some of the theories I’ve come up with… Well, we could be in the future or in a different dimension altogether. Wouldn’t be that strange, given what kind of superpowers people have nowadays, right? Or maybe whoever kidnapped us just wants us to think that we’re in another time or space, when in actuality, we’re still very much in the present, but like, in an exact copy of the Paragon Tower? I mean, I dunno why anyone would do that, but hey, it’s a possibility, right? It’s just… why are we here?”

Something about trying to break down the door to Paragon Tower sounded like a bad idea. Just a little bit. Maybe slightly more than a little bit. …Have the Paragons ever sued anyone before? Sure, they were defenders of justice and righteousness and all that, but if their door gets broken down, someone’s got to pay for it.

“If we’re cleaner than everything else then yeah, it probably just means we were dumped in here after the… whatever happened. The big event. No, that sounds stupid. It’d be nice to have something to call it in less syllables than ‘the mysterious something that broke everything and then dumped us all here.’ Which is… eighteen, I think. That’s too many syllables.”

She really needs a name for it now, before she thinks of something stupid and gets that stuck in her head. It’d be Cat Disaster all over again.

She nodded towards the banner by the stage - sliced in two or not, it still proclaimed the name of the event in big, bold letters. “The gala, right. A friend of mine invited me to this get-together to eat junk food and watch the broadcast.” It wasn’t exactly a lie – she had been invited, she just hadn’t gone. It had conflicted with a prior engagement. “I think it was the same with me, actually. I remember the beginning, but not the end.”

And those theories were just… real whoppers of theories to open with. Time travel and dimension hopping? Sure, he was certainly right that neither of those were impossible, but it just felt extreme to be even considering it when they’d been here for such a short period of time. Not that she had any better explanation. She was still waiting on more information before she really gave serious thought to it.

“So… but…” She was trying to think through everything at once, and had to take a second to get her thoughts in order. “Okay, if it’s time travel, then it would be strange that no one ever came in here to clean the building up after the gala – for however far in the future we’d theoretically be. Unless the world ended, or something? In that case, being in an alternate dimension would be nicer since that’d probably mean our dimension is still fine, but then we’d also be stuck in an alternate dimension. Building an entire new tower to trick us seems like a lot of effort just to confuse us – and where would you put another Paragon Tower, anyway?”

She doesn’t like any of these theories. They’re not terrible theories; she just really doesn’t want any of them to be true.

“And as for why we’re here, I just – I have no idea. I’m just a student, I didn’t ask to be here – honestly, I’m not even sure I have time to be here. What time is it, anyway?” Out of habit, she tried to check the time on her phone, whose screen was just as blank and unforgiving as it had been for the past few useless attempts to get it working again. “There are so many other things I should be doing right now… this is going to mess up my entire schedule.”

[medicalsmith-blog]

Triage | Prologue Open

[medicalsmith-blog]

saltandpepperway:

“Oh! A doctor for cars….. I never thought of it that way….. I-I guess I am kind of a doctor!” For once Pepper finally cracks a smile. It returns into a confused frown as Sara starts going off track. Pepper nods, “Yeah… traffic’s terrible in this city…. Too bad we don’t have a hero specifically for jams, huh?” That’s one sad attempt to lighten the mood. “Bus is good though.”

Pepper usually took the bus too depending on how far her destination was but really she rarely traveled outside her apartment and shop. Well, groceries were an exception. One of these days someone will invent a flying car.

Aw… That’s dedication. “Really? That’s amazing… You’re basically on the way on making your dreams come true!” She gives an awkward little clap of appreciation. “T-that’s good though… Handling stress…. I don’t get much excitement or stress in my line of work besides um…. engines exploding or something…” 

Yikes, this door was not budging. “T-they’d have to know we’re in here! T-there’s a lot of important people here so…. I think chances are…. people are going to be here soon….” Pepper nervously glanced around their surroundings again. Well… This is a pretty creepy place to stand around and wait but…. “I… I guess it’s okay…. But if you don’t mind I’d rather be in your company than….. wait alone………….. by myself….” Anything could happen and Pepper would rather avoid everything. 

“Hmm… I think I read a fake wiki page about that, actually. I think it was fake, anyway. It went something like…” She waves a hand. “’Traffic Man,’ - the name wasn’t that stupid, but I don’t remember what it was, exactly – then it talked about rush hour, then… something something relativistic time manipulation. I think I only remember it because whoever wrote it doodled a funny costume to go with it. Red, yellow, and green, like a traffic light.”

Not exactly relevant, but more fun to think about things like that than the present situation.

“It’s a goal, not a dream,” she says, and looks off to the side. “And it’ll be a few more years before I can really do anything like that.” She’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought, before she shakes her head and returns her attention to Pepper. “What would cause a car engine to explode, anyway?”

Sara gives up on getting the doors open and starts aimlessly walking around the border of the room. If Pepper’s right, then all they would really have to do is wait. For how long, though? Could be minutes, could be hours. Or maybe no help would come at all – she really needed to stop thinking so pessimistically about all of this. So she woke up in a trashed version of a famous building with no idea what had happened. Why should that be grounds for thinking more bad things were on their way? …She’s not great at this positive thinking thing.

“Well… there were a lot of important people here last night, at least.” The gala had been just last night, right?  It definitely felt like it had, but with the state of the building… it was difficult to know what to think. “If you want to stick together, I don’t have a problem with that. Glad to hear I’m better company than an empty room.”