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@surging-eyes-seeing-through
"Here comes Justice!"
"My name is Apollo Justice, and I'm an attorney with the infamous Wright Anything Agency. Up until recently, I've been on leave, but I'm ready to get back into action.
Answering questions, though? I'm less sure about that..."
([Headcanons & Notes]) - ([Formatting & Link Info]) - ([Featured Asks & Responses]) - ([Apollo AU ask blog]) - ([General Rules & Info])
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ongoing rp chain with @surging-eyes-seeing-through
(I dunno how to link parts, but this is part 3)
"..Yeah. and.. I can change my height if needed. This size is most efficient and I can maintain it indefinitely, unlike larger sizes. But I don't need to be big to cook."
[Vaz shrugs. It sways a little, back and forth.]
"There's also plenty of stuff i can cook at my size anyway. Minus.. anything that requires toasters. I tend to accidentally break them somehow."
[It leaned back before hopping laggily onto the floor, landing in silence.]
"And I refuse to fry things. Grease makes me feel icky, even if it just goes right through me."
[Vaz shivered. Probably in disgust.]
"...Well, thankfully, I don't have a fryer. I do have a toaster, but... if I really wanted toast, that's easy enough to make myself."
[Apollo hoisted himself back to his feet, giving a half-hearted stretch as he kept an eye on Vaz. After rubbing his eyes, ridding them of some of the last bits of sadness from earlier, he turned towards the doorway.]
"Though... ah. Don't feel like you need to cook for me, really." [An awkward glance was shot to the side.] "You are basically a stranger... I don't want to rope you into anything like this, you know? I just think it's impolite."
"Impolite, sure. Then you'll be cooking?"
"I mean... sure, yeah. I can do it myself." [He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before continuing.] "...And, that's right. signals... I can try to figure out what it'd be that's keeping you here, since I doubt you want to be stuck here forever. I just wouldn't know where to start, really."
[He had watched as Vaz stretched, raising a brow momentarily before his face returned to its usual neutral look. At the note regarding the state of his apartment, his expression shifted again, his eyes diverting as his mouth pulled back into an awkward half-smile.]
"Okay, well... I have at least one set of clean dishes, I know that."
[Speaking nothing of all of the dirty ones.]
"I've, you know. Just started, ah... getting my shit together, I guess you could say. I'm still catching up."
[Even talking about this to the equivalent of a little computer, it made Apollo thoroughly embarrassed. Even as he tried not to show it, his ears had gone red, the man partially trying to distract himself by bending down and plucking the colorful letter off the pile.
He should've opened it the moment he got it. He knew that. But, he just... hadn't felt like it. Better late than never, right? He thought to himself, as the envelope was idly torn open.]
[The letter was a loving mess. Inside was one of those stupid, cheesy, yet heartfelt "get-well-soon" cards. Written in it were a couple of words of encouragement. Even Klavier had written somethingβeven though it was written exactly how he talks, albiet a bit messy.. Trucy'd drawn a little smiley face where she'd written, 'Get better fast, 'polly!' And, written by that was a curt get better soon, signed off by Phoenix. Athena simply had doodled a stickman with a hat of flowers. (..Juniper, maybe?) ]
[For a brief moment, Apollo's eyes were able to scan the letter, a variety of emotions flashing across his face. He knew everyone cared, he really did, but seeing it all written plainly before him... it almost brought a tear to his eye.
Well, it did.
But he wiped it away as quick as he could. Being non-functional was embarrassing enough... He didn't need to be crying in front of the hologram, too.
"..unsure. I don't like it."
The air? The air. He sucked in a breath, eyes glancing beck to the object. He stared blankly to it, much too many seconds passing... what did it say, now?
1:00.
One minute.
What was he doing? Now wasn't the time to panic. Standing here like a deer in headlights was only going to get him hurt.
It wasn't like he could dispose of this casually. He needed it out. And far from this building, preferably. He didn't know what it was going to do, anyways. He didn't want to think about it.
...Ah, that's it. A window. Throw it out. Who cared if it hurt someone on the street, all he could think about was self-preservation at this point.
The little object was grabbed off the floor, little care given to the action. Whichever window was nearest to him was just about ran towards, with the man immediately trying to wrestle it open.
If one had ever attempted to open a window in an old building, they would understand his struggle. A solid grip and strength were needed to do so, two things that Apollo was somewhat lacking in at the moment. The little 'die' (a rather fitting name) was set on the sill as he grappled with the window itself, ignoring the aches in his arms the attempts were causing. At least the chill of the outdoors was seeping through, numbing it all to some degree.
"One minute left!" The little thing chimed.
"...Ugh! you... you motherfucker!"
[He didn't swear often, really, despite having been through enough in his life to justify doing such a thing. But this... The duress of the situation was getting to him. The little chime, that... that was the breaking point.
And the webcam? It just added to it all.]
"Shut up!", he hissed through his teeth, voice filled with a nervous aggression. "Is... is this necessary?! Really?! Was... sending this thing to me not enough?!"
[His voice cracked, hands faltering for a moment. No, he couldn't get distracted. The person's second line, he forced himself to ignore it, focusing back on the window.
A blast of cold air his his hands, spilling down and over his feet. With a desperate pull, the window went up, clicking into place.
For a moment, he felt relief. But then... the screen. He forgot about the screen.
Muttering curses in both English and some other, much less common language, it was grabbed as well, taking much less strength to wrestle open. But it still took time. Time that he wasn't keeping track of.
As long as he was able, he would keep at it, though.
The screen wasn't lifted that much. But there was enough of a space for the stupid object to be thrown out through. So he grabbed it off the sill in a tight fist, and went to throw it as hard as his battered arm could possibly allow.]
"Pfft- ahah!"
[It would've been nice to relax the moment the little bomb went flying out the window. No more danger, right?
But his panic... his panic only continued, the man becoming much more aware of it once his focus fell away from the window. When had his heart started beating this quickly? When had his hands started shaking? Was his vision always this dark and unfocused?
He gripped the windowsill and leaned heavily against it, taking in a few choppy breaths as a pained look came upon his face. All of his injuries seemed to burn in unison, the memory of their creation echoing in his mind. It had been an explosion, not poison. But even then, his mind was locked on the thought. He couldn't help it.
The dead birds, the person, they weren't even acknowledged. His brain refused their presence, for the sake of his own sanity.
The sudden noise and voice from his desk did break Apollo's mental loop, making him stumble to face the source, a tight scowl appearing on his face.
"Shut up!", he exclaimed, with little delay. The voice that carried the words shook with strain, but carried a great upset intensity within it. "Don't... talk about him so... so carelessly!"
Even after nearly dying, his first thought was to defend Clay's memory. It wasn't a very surprising action for him, admittedly.
But, the time would come to face the current situation.
"...What do you want with me. What do you want with me?! You... you sick piece of... ugh!"
He stumbled over himself, verbally, as he swayed slightly on his feet. The fact he was still standing at all was a miracle, really, with how utterly sheet-white he looked.
[The person simply chuckled at Apollo's panic.]
"..p-piece of what, Justice? Eheh. What I want with you.. I dunno. I'm a bit angry. Maybe r-revenge for Mr. Phantom?"
[He tapped on the webcam, adjusting it.]
"..Since Phantom got that loser scientist and your b-buddy Terran, I-I assumed I might as well just finish off the t-trio, yeah? Too bad that little robot bastard freaked out. You'd p-probably be t-twitching on the floor right now."
[The person twirled in their chair.]
"Didn't e-even think you'd have that 'thing', though. Little bastard makes my job harder t-than it already is.. sigh... but, ah, riiight. I h-hear you were bombed recently. How was that? Eheheh."
"...What, is it suddenly my fault that he screwed up?!" Apollo grit his teeth, breath catching in his throat before he continued. "Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so careless!"
Apollo's eyelid twitched before his expression calmed slightly, his gaze losing focus for a moment. On top of everything else, his fury was only straining him more, a wave of dizziness throwing him off for a moment. With nothing better to do, he let himself fall to his knees, giving himself a long moment to recuperate his strength. Thankfully, lowering himself did help, as did the cold air pouring through the window.
It did not remove his anger, however.
Once his mental sharpness had returned, Apollo stared up towards the image, scowling deeply.
"I've... cheated death so many times, did you... really think this would work?"
It almost did. He was keenly aware of that.
"...You failed. How does that feel?"
Strong words for someone kneeling crumpled on the floor, nearly hyperventilating in panic.
At the mention of the bombing, he cringed, giving a silent scowl to the silhouette. His diverted eyes indicated his discomfort with it being brought up well enough.
"I'll admit, failure has a b-bitter bite."
"If... I really was weak-minded, I would've given up on everything a long time ago. I'm... stronger than you, you... failure of a murderer."
[While he spat out the insult, Apollo's bandaged fingers pressed onto the floor, palms flat against it as he kept himself steady. He was certainly tenacious. Or perhaps, did not know when to stop. Most likely, a combination of both.
His uneven fury was interrupted by the flickering of light, eyes darting over as his expression relaxed. The hologram... right, he had almost forgotten. His mind was too frazzled to keep the day's events in order, really.]
"I'm... fine.", he managed to mutter out, a rather obvious lie. He was, however, at least clearly alive.
Once Vaz' attention went to the screen, Apollo's did as well, expression pulling into a tense frown.
What a situation he had found himself in. Holograms, poison, and his own potential murderer. It... It was exhausting, to even simply think about.
"..wow, wow!"
[He slow-clapped. His voice was laced with sarcasm.]
"Failure of a murderer, hm? You sound like my f-father. Failure this, failure that. It's a-annoying, really."
[While he spoke Vaz quietly walked over to Apollo. It kept it's gaze on the screen.]
"I'd chat w-with you longer, but.. the p-police are on their way to your h-house. Byebye, Justice. <3"
[The screen turned off and then set itself aflame. It was harmless, though, only leaving a pile of black ash and burning a small hole into the desk it sat on. The flame died almost as soon as it had started.
.. He'd burned the evidence of himself. And probably was the one who called the police. Distantly there were sirens.]
"..Apollo.. we.. should go.. hide, or.. something."
[Vaz concernedly stared at Apollo.]
"...Hide?"
Apollo continued to stare at the spot where the screen had been, a vacant, exhausted look in his eyes. He just wanted to crawl into a corner and pass out, dealing with more was... it was wearing him rather thin, mentally.
"There's... this apartment is tiny. There's nowhere to hide."
His bed had space underneath, sure. But that was painfully obvious. The singular closet was also likely a poor option.
There was one idea, though. He just didn't know how well he could commit to it... this adrenaline rush could only last so long, couldn't it?
"...The sirens, they're... close, but not here. I... I bet I could still run."
Hoped he could still run, more so.
"..Alright."
"...Ugh."
Apollo watched Vaz grow in size, an exhausted look in his eyes. It was unbelievable, still, but everything really was. Everything always was.
Why couldn't his life be normal for once?
He reached up, taking the offered hand with a huff before he hoisted himself to his feet.
"Um... an event, right. Blending in... I... god, I look distinctive, don't I? I'll..."
He, after a moment of thought, reached up and just, messed the hell out of his hair. It was a mess, didn't look good at all. But... it certainly made him look less like himself. The jacket, as well, was thrown off, a red buttoned coat grabbed from the back of a chair. He did wear it around, but... less often than his usual outfit, and it was less unique than the GYAXA jacket.
He felt bad leaving it behind. But, it would do little more than cause him more issues, at the moment.
"I have some pockets, just... I don't know. You seem like you have a better handle on this situation than I do!"
He hoped the hologram did. Because... he sure didn't, himself.
"Yeah.. a better handle."
\\Appearance rn... I hope my 5 pixel tall attempt at remembering Vaz is sufficient lmao
"...Great. I'll just... I think I know where that is. The street, anyways."
[It said nothing as they traveled, eventually arriving at a stairway, with a few signs nearby advertising a.. bar, THE bar, as well as other places to go.]
"It's just down here."
[Down the stairs was 2 doors, one of them the bar, the other apparently a staff room. The bar door was unlocked, and it opened without even a creak. Inside was a dimly lit bar-room, occupied by two.. three people, including the bartender. The bartender gave Apollo a once-over, eyebrow raised quizzically, but went back to wiping down the bar.]
"We.. you can lie low here."
[The bartender's head turned at the sound of Vaz's little robotic voice.]
"..Good to see you again."
[He said nothing else regarding Vaz. Vaz hadn't even been really visible, considering he was haphazardly tucked into Apollo's pocket.]
"..Over here, sit on the cushioned long-chair.."
[It guided Apollo to a table with a plush sofa, against the back wall. The entire bar was suprisingly.. fancy, for a place that didn't seem to have many customers. The black wallpaper had an odd texture, flecks of the print reflecting the dim lighting of the modern-style chandelier surrounded by abstract, triangular wood sculptures hanging from the ceiling. There was a few framed photos of unrecognized musicians, and some colorful bottles with lights placed inside, purely decorative.]
[The two that were in the bar with Apollo and Vaz were silent, and had appeared to ignore them. One was a man and the other a woman. They looked related.]
"Well then. you okay?"
[Vaz questioned Apollo quietly once he'd settled on the sofa, getting out of his pocket and managing to hop onto the table, sitting so it's legs dangled off the edge. The bartender kept his eye on them. It was usual behaviour, since generally you'd expect visitors to buy a drink.]
To say the least, Apollo was way, way out of his league, here.
To be frank, he barely even went to bars in the first place. But this? This was... way more... more everything. Fancier, high-end, whatever. Everything exuded a sense of expensive exclusivity. He certainly didn't belong. Had the mall been that bad of an idea, really?
After getting over that crisis, he glanced around, taking in as much of his surroundings that he deemed important. Which wasn't much, aside from the people present. The comment towards him (or Vaz, really) had been unnerving, but considering no one seemed to heavily mind the hologram's presence, he decided to not care for now.
Relaxing back into the chair with a resigned sigh, Apollo took a glance down at Vaz, scrunching his face up a little.
"Well...", he muttered quietly, "...I... guess I'm okay. Physically. But, I'm just... what is this, exactly?"
A vague gesture was given to the room.
"And... how long do you think I have to hide?"
"What is.. ah. I don't really know, to be honest. Dr. Crescent took me here a few times, and that's all I know about it really."
"...Doesn't really seem like the kind of place a scientist would hang out in. But... I guess I didn't know the guy, so I can't say much."
He fiddled with his bandages, staring down at the table in front of him, just past Vaz. At the idea of hiding out, the fidgeting intensified, his lip idly bit.
"A week... Alright. I... I have my phone with me, so I could maybe contact some friends, see if they're willing to keep me, uh. out of sight. I'm sure they'd understand..."
They might. They probably would. Enough weird things had happened, why would getting framed for this be any different?
At the idea of getting a drink, Apollo paused, before shaking his head. "I'd rather not spend anything right now. I mean, I don't know how long I'll be stuck like this, so, you know."
He was also, admittedly, too nervous to stomach much at the moment.
"Do you... know the people here, or something?"
"Know the people? Yeah."
[Vaz gestured to the pair at a nearby table.]
Apollo watched as Vaz pointed out each person, doing his best to mentally note each detail. He didn't know if it'd be important at all, and was a bit too frazzled to trust his memory, but it was the effort that counts, right?
"Got it.", he muttered, staring for a moment before slouching a little more, eyes returning to Vaz. "Even if they were bad... I'm friends with some rough people, so it'd be whatever. Gives me a little comfort, though..."
And in this situation, that meant a lot.
"Friends that will house me... maybe. It's, uh, my boss, actually... He's been in a lot of weird situations, even been arrested at least once, so I think he'd be able to understand it all." Pausing for a moment, he gave an awkward smile. "I'll just, ah... need to figure out how to ask him. And explain everything. Because... even as someone who just lived through it, it's pretty unbelievable."
It still made him jittery, admittedly. The fact he came so close to dying. The fact that someone did die. How would this even work in court? Even he wasn't sure.
What is your preferred method of caffeine ingestion? Again sorry is not a bug fact,,,
~π’
"Tea, I'd have to say. Coffee works in a pinch, but it's way too bitter for me, normally."
ongoing rp chain with @surging-eyes-seeing-through
(I dunno how to link parts, but this is part 3)
"..Yeah. and.. I can change my height if needed. This size is most efficient and I can maintain it indefinitely, unlike larger sizes. But I don't need to be big to cook."
[Vaz shrugs. It sways a little, back and forth.]
"There's also plenty of stuff i can cook at my size anyway. Minus.. anything that requires toasters. I tend to accidentally break them somehow."
[It leaned back before hopping laggily onto the floor, landing in silence.]
"And I refuse to fry things. Grease makes me feel icky, even if it just goes right through me."
[Vaz shivered. Probably in disgust.]
"...Well, thankfully, I don't have a fryer. I do have a toaster, but... if I really wanted toast, that's easy enough to make myself."
[Apollo hoisted himself back to his feet, giving a half-hearted stretch as he kept an eye on Vaz. After rubbing his eyes, ridding them of some of the last bits of sadness from earlier, he turned towards the doorway.]
"Though... ah. Don't feel like you need to cook for me, really." [An awkward glance was shot to the side.] "You are basically a stranger... I don't want to rope you into anything like this, you know? I just think it's impolite."
"Impolite, sure. Then you'll be cooking?"
"I mean... sure, yeah. I can do it myself." [He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before continuing.] "...And, that's right. signals... I can try to figure out what it'd be that's keeping you here, since I doubt you want to be stuck here forever. I just wouldn't know where to start, really."
[He had watched as Vaz stretched, raising a brow momentarily before his face returned to its usual neutral look. At the note regarding the state of his apartment, his expression shifted again, his eyes diverting as his mouth pulled back into an awkward half-smile.]
"Okay, well... I have at least one set of clean dishes, I know that."
[Speaking nothing of all of the dirty ones.]
"I've, you know. Just started, ah... getting my shit together, I guess you could say. I'm still catching up."
[Even talking about this to the equivalent of a little computer, it made Apollo thoroughly embarrassed. Even as he tried not to show it, his ears had gone red, the man partially trying to distract himself by bending down and plucking the colorful letter off the pile.
He should've opened it the moment he got it. He knew that. But, he just... hadn't felt like it. Better late than never, right? He thought to himself, as the envelope was idly torn open.]
[The letter was a loving mess. Inside was one of those stupid, cheesy, yet heartfelt "get-well-soon" cards. Written in it were a couple of words of encouragement. Even Klavier had written somethingβeven though it was written exactly how he talks, albiet a bit messy.. Trucy'd drawn a little smiley face where she'd written, 'Get better fast, 'polly!' And, written by that was a curt get better soon, signed off by Phoenix. Athena simply had doodled a stickman with a hat of flowers. (..Juniper, maybe?) ]
[For a brief moment, Apollo's eyes were able to scan the letter, a variety of emotions flashing across his face. He knew everyone cared, he really did, but seeing it all written plainly before him... it almost brought a tear to his eye.
Well, it did.
But he wiped it away as quick as he could. Being non-functional was embarrassing enough... He didn't need to be crying in front of the hologram, too.
"..unsure. I don't like it."
The air? The air. He sucked in a breath, eyes glancing beck to the object. He stared blankly to it, much too many seconds passing... what did it say, now?
1:00.
One minute.
What was he doing? Now wasn't the time to panic. Standing here like a deer in headlights was only going to get him hurt.
It wasn't like he could dispose of this casually. He needed it out. And far from this building, preferably. He didn't know what it was going to do, anyways. He didn't want to think about it.
...Ah, that's it. A window. Throw it out. Who cared if it hurt someone on the street, all he could think about was self-preservation at this point.
The little object was grabbed off the floor, little care given to the action. Whichever window was nearest to him was just about ran towards, with the man immediately trying to wrestle it open.
If one had ever attempted to open a window in an old building, they would understand his struggle. A solid grip and strength were needed to do so, two things that Apollo was somewhat lacking in at the moment. The little 'die' (a rather fitting name) was set on the sill as he grappled with the window itself, ignoring the aches in his arms the attempts were causing. At least the chill of the outdoors was seeping through, numbing it all to some degree.
"One minute left!" The little thing chimed.
"...Ugh! you... you motherfucker!"
[He didn't swear often, really, despite having been through enough in his life to justify doing such a thing. But this... The duress of the situation was getting to him. The little chime, that... that was the breaking point.
And the webcam? It just added to it all.]
"Shut up!", he hissed through his teeth, voice filled with a nervous aggression. "Is... is this necessary?! Really?! Was... sending this thing to me not enough?!"
[His voice cracked, hands faltering for a moment. No, he couldn't get distracted. The person's second line, he forced himself to ignore it, focusing back on the window.
A blast of cold air his his hands, spilling down and over his feet. With a desperate pull, the window went up, clicking into place.
For a moment, he felt relief. But then... the screen. He forgot about the screen.
Muttering curses in both English and some other, much less common language, it was grabbed as well, taking much less strength to wrestle open. But it still took time. Time that he wasn't keeping track of.
As long as he was able, he would keep at it, though.
The screen wasn't lifted that much. But there was enough of a space for the stupid object to be thrown out through. So he grabbed it off the sill in a tight fist, and went to throw it as hard as his battered arm could possibly allow.]
"Pfft- ahah!"
[It would've been nice to relax the moment the little bomb went flying out the window. No more danger, right?
But his panic... his panic only continued, the man becoming much more aware of it once his focus fell away from the window. When had his heart started beating this quickly? When had his hands started shaking? Was his vision always this dark and unfocused?
He gripped the windowsill and leaned heavily against it, taking in a few choppy breaths as a pained look came upon his face. All of his injuries seemed to burn in unison, the memory of their creation echoing in his mind. It had been an explosion, not poison. But even then, his mind was locked on the thought. He couldn't help it.
The dead birds, the person, they weren't even acknowledged. His brain refused their presence, for the sake of his own sanity.
The sudden noise and voice from his desk did break Apollo's mental loop, making him stumble to face the source, a tight scowl appearing on his face.
"Shut up!", he exclaimed, with little delay. The voice that carried the words shook with strain, but carried a great upset intensity within it. "Don't... talk about him so... so carelessly!"
Even after nearly dying, his first thought was to defend Clay's memory. It wasn't a very surprising action for him, admittedly.
But, the time would come to face the current situation.
"...What do you want with me. What do you want with me?! You... you sick piece of... ugh!"
He stumbled over himself, verbally, as he swayed slightly on his feet. The fact he was still standing at all was a miracle, really, with how utterly sheet-white he looked.
[The person simply chuckled at Apollo's panic.]
"..p-piece of what, Justice? Eheh. What I want with you.. I dunno. I'm a bit angry. Maybe r-revenge for Mr. Phantom?"
[He tapped on the webcam, adjusting it.]
"..Since Phantom got that loser scientist and your b-buddy Terran, I-I assumed I might as well just finish off the t-trio, yeah? Too bad that little robot bastard freaked out. You'd p-probably be t-twitching on the floor right now."
[The person twirled in their chair.]
"Didn't e-even think you'd have that 'thing', though. Little bastard makes my job harder t-than it already is.. sigh... but, ah, riiight. I h-hear you were bombed recently. How was that? Eheheh."
"...What, is it suddenly my fault that he screwed up?!" Apollo grit his teeth, breath catching in his throat before he continued. "Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so careless!"
Apollo's eyelid twitched before his expression calmed slightly, his gaze losing focus for a moment. On top of everything else, his fury was only straining him more, a wave of dizziness throwing him off for a moment. With nothing better to do, he let himself fall to his knees, giving himself a long moment to recuperate his strength. Thankfully, lowering himself did help, as did the cold air pouring through the window.
It did not remove his anger, however.
Once his mental sharpness had returned, Apollo stared up towards the image, scowling deeply.
"I've... cheated death so many times, did you... really think this would work?"
It almost did. He was keenly aware of that.
"...You failed. How does that feel?"
Strong words for someone kneeling crumpled on the floor, nearly hyperventilating in panic.
At the mention of the bombing, he cringed, giving a silent scowl to the silhouette. His diverted eyes indicated his discomfort with it being brought up well enough.
"I'll admit, failure has a b-bitter bite."
"If... I really was weak-minded, I would've given up on everything a long time ago. I'm... stronger than you, you... failure of a murderer."
[While he spat out the insult, Apollo's bandaged fingers pressed onto the floor, palms flat against it as he kept himself steady. He was certainly tenacious. Or perhaps, did not know when to stop. Most likely, a combination of both.
His uneven fury was interrupted by the flickering of light, eyes darting over as his expression relaxed. The hologram... right, he had almost forgotten. His mind was too frazzled to keep the day's events in order, really.]
"I'm... fine.", he managed to mutter out, a rather obvious lie. He was, however, at least clearly alive.
Once Vaz' attention went to the screen, Apollo's did as well, expression pulling into a tense frown.
What a situation he had found himself in. Holograms, poison, and his own potential murderer. It... It was exhausting, to even simply think about.
"..wow, wow!"
[He slow-clapped. His voice was laced with sarcasm.]
"Failure of a murderer, hm? You sound like my f-father. Failure this, failure that. It's a-annoying, really."
[While he spoke Vaz quietly walked over to Apollo. It kept it's gaze on the screen.]
"I'd chat w-with you longer, but.. the p-police are on their way to your h-house. Byebye, Justice. <3"
[The screen turned off and then set itself aflame. It was harmless, though, only leaving a pile of black ash and burning a small hole into the desk it sat on. The flame died almost as soon as it had started.
.. He'd burned the evidence of himself. And probably was the one who called the police. Distantly there were sirens.]
"..Apollo.. we.. should go.. hide, or.. something."
[Vaz concernedly stared at Apollo.]
"...Hide?"
Apollo continued to stare at the spot where the screen had been, a vacant, exhausted look in his eyes. He just wanted to crawl into a corner and pass out, dealing with more was... it was wearing him rather thin, mentally.
"There's... this apartment is tiny. There's nowhere to hide."
His bed had space underneath, sure. But that was painfully obvious. The singular closet was also likely a poor option.
There was one idea, though. He just didn't know how well he could commit to it... this adrenaline rush could only last so long, couldn't it?
"...The sirens, they're... close, but not here. I... I bet I could still run."
Hoped he could still run, more so.
"..Alright."
"...Ugh."
Apollo watched Vaz grow in size, an exhausted look in his eyes. It was unbelievable, still, but everything really was. Everything always was.
Why couldn't his life be normal for once?
He reached up, taking the offered hand with a huff before he hoisted himself to his feet.
"Um... an event, right. Blending in... I... god, I look distinctive, don't I? I'll..."
He, after a moment of thought, reached up and just, messed the hell out of his hair. It was a mess, didn't look good at all. But... it certainly made him look less like himself. The jacket, as well, was thrown off, a red buttoned coat grabbed from the back of a chair. He did wear it around, but... less often than his usual outfit, and it was less unique than the GYAXA jacket.
He felt bad leaving it behind. But, it would do little more than cause him more issues, at the moment.
"I have some pockets, just... I don't know. You seem like you have a better handle on this situation than I do!"
He hoped the hologram did. Because... he sure didn't, himself.
"Yeah.. a better handle."
\\Appearance rn... I hope my 5 pixel tall attempt at remembering Vaz is sufficient lmao
"...Great. I'll just... I think I know where that is. The street, anyways."
[It said nothing as they traveled, eventually arriving at a stairway, with a few signs nearby advertising a.. bar, THE bar, as well as other places to go.]
"It's just down here."
[Down the stairs was 2 doors, one of them the bar, the other apparently a staff room. The bar door was unlocked, and it opened without even a creak. Inside was a dimly lit bar-room, occupied by two.. three people, including the bartender. The bartender gave Apollo a once-over, eyebrow raised quizzically, but went back to wiping down the bar.]
"We.. you can lie low here."
[The bartender's head turned at the sound of Vaz's little robotic voice.]
"..Good to see you again."
[He said nothing else regarding Vaz. Vaz hadn't even been really visible, considering he was haphazardly tucked into Apollo's pocket.]
"..Over here, sit on the cushioned long-chair.."
[It guided Apollo to a table with a plush sofa, against the back wall. The entire bar was suprisingly.. fancy, for a place that didn't seem to have many customers. The black wallpaper had an odd texture, flecks of the print reflecting the dim lighting of the modern-style chandelier surrounded by abstract, triangular wood sculptures hanging from the ceiling. There was a few framed photos of unrecognized musicians, and some colorful bottles with lights placed inside, purely decorative.]
[The two that were in the bar with Apollo and Vaz were silent, and had appeared to ignore them. One was a man and the other a woman. They looked related.]
"Well then. you okay?"
[Vaz questioned Apollo quietly once he'd settled on the sofa, getting out of his pocket and managing to hop onto the table, sitting so it's legs dangled off the edge. The bartender kept his eye on them. It was usual behaviour, since generally you'd expect visitors to buy a drink.]
To say the least, Apollo was way, way out of his league, here.
To be frank, he barely even went to bars in the first place. But this? This was... way more... more everything. Fancier, high-end, whatever. Everything exuded a sense of expensive exclusivity. He certainly didn't belong. Had the mall been that bad of an idea, really?
After getting over that crisis, he glanced around, taking in as much of his surroundings that he deemed important. Which wasn't much, aside from the people present. The comment towards him (or Vaz, really) had been unnerving, but considering no one seemed to heavily mind the hologram's presence, he decided to not care for now.
Relaxing back into the chair with a resigned sigh, Apollo took a glance down at Vaz, scrunching his face up a little.
"Well...", he muttered quietly, "...I... guess I'm okay. Physically. But, I'm just... what is this, exactly?"
A vague gesture was given to the room.
"And... how long do you think I have to hide?"
"What is.. ah. I don't really know, to be honest. Dr. Crescent took me here a few times, and that's all I know about it really."
"...Doesn't really seem like the kind of place a scientist would hang out in. But... I guess I didn't know the guy, so I can't say much."
He fiddled with his bandages, staring down at the table in front of him, just past Vaz. At the idea of hiding out, the fidgeting intensified, his lip idly bit.
"A week... Alright. I... I have my phone with me, so I could maybe contact some friends, see if they're willing to keep me, uh. out of sight. I'm sure they'd understand..."
They might. They probably would. Enough weird things had happened, why would getting framed for this be any different?
At the idea of getting a drink, Apollo paused, before shaking his head. "I'd rather not spend anything right now. I mean, I don't know how long I'll be stuck like this, so, you know."
He was also, admittedly, too nervous to stomach much at the moment.
"Do you... know the people here, or something?"
ongoing rp chain with @surging-eyes-seeing-through
(I dunno how to link parts, but this is part 3)
"..Yeah. and.. I can change my height if needed. This size is most efficient and I can maintain it indefinitely, unlike larger sizes. But I don't need to be big to cook."
[Vaz shrugs. It sways a little, back and forth.]
"There's also plenty of stuff i can cook at my size anyway. Minus.. anything that requires toasters. I tend to accidentally break them somehow."
[It leaned back before hopping laggily onto the floor, landing in silence.]
"And I refuse to fry things. Grease makes me feel icky, even if it just goes right through me."
[Vaz shivered. Probably in disgust.]
"...Well, thankfully, I don't have a fryer. I do have a toaster, but... if I really wanted toast, that's easy enough to make myself."
[Apollo hoisted himself back to his feet, giving a half-hearted stretch as he kept an eye on Vaz. After rubbing his eyes, ridding them of some of the last bits of sadness from earlier, he turned towards the doorway.]
"Though... ah. Don't feel like you need to cook for me, really." [An awkward glance was shot to the side.] "You are basically a stranger... I don't want to rope you into anything like this, you know? I just think it's impolite."
"Impolite, sure. Then you'll be cooking?"
"I mean... sure, yeah. I can do it myself." [He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before continuing.] "...And, that's right. signals... I can try to figure out what it'd be that's keeping you here, since I doubt you want to be stuck here forever. I just wouldn't know where to start, really."
[He had watched as Vaz stretched, raising a brow momentarily before his face returned to its usual neutral look. At the note regarding the state of his apartment, his expression shifted again, his eyes diverting as his mouth pulled back into an awkward half-smile.]
"Okay, well... I have at least one set of clean dishes, I know that."
[Speaking nothing of all of the dirty ones.]
"I've, you know. Just started, ah... getting my shit together, I guess you could say. I'm still catching up."
[Even talking about this to the equivalent of a little computer, it made Apollo thoroughly embarrassed. Even as he tried not to show it, his ears had gone red, the man partially trying to distract himself by bending down and plucking the colorful letter off the pile.
He should've opened it the moment he got it. He knew that. But, he just... hadn't felt like it. Better late than never, right? He thought to himself, as the envelope was idly torn open.]
[The letter was a loving mess. Inside was one of those stupid, cheesy, yet heartfelt "get-well-soon" cards. Written in it were a couple of words of encouragement. Even Klavier had written somethingβeven though it was written exactly how he talks, albiet a bit messy.. Trucy'd drawn a little smiley face where she'd written, 'Get better fast, 'polly!' And, written by that was a curt get better soon, signed off by Phoenix. Athena simply had doodled a stickman with a hat of flowers. (..Juniper, maybe?) ]
[For a brief moment, Apollo's eyes were able to scan the letter, a variety of emotions flashing across his face. He knew everyone cared, he really did, but seeing it all written plainly before him... it almost brought a tear to his eye.
Well, it did.
But he wiped it away as quick as he could. Being non-functional was embarrassing enough... He didn't need to be crying in front of the hologram, too.
"..unsure. I don't like it."
The air? The air. He sucked in a breath, eyes glancing beck to the object. He stared blankly to it, much too many seconds passing... what did it say, now?
1:00.
One minute.
What was he doing? Now wasn't the time to panic. Standing here like a deer in headlights was only going to get him hurt.
It wasn't like he could dispose of this casually. He needed it out. And far from this building, preferably. He didn't know what it was going to do, anyways. He didn't want to think about it.
...Ah, that's it. A window. Throw it out. Who cared if it hurt someone on the street, all he could think about was self-preservation at this point.
The little object was grabbed off the floor, little care given to the action. Whichever window was nearest to him was just about ran towards, with the man immediately trying to wrestle it open.
If one had ever attempted to open a window in an old building, they would understand his struggle. A solid grip and strength were needed to do so, two things that Apollo was somewhat lacking in at the moment. The little 'die' (a rather fitting name) was set on the sill as he grappled with the window itself, ignoring the aches in his arms the attempts were causing. At least the chill of the outdoors was seeping through, numbing it all to some degree.
"One minute left!" The little thing chimed.
"...Ugh! you... you motherfucker!"
[He didn't swear often, really, despite having been through enough in his life to justify doing such a thing. But this... The duress of the situation was getting to him. The little chime, that... that was the breaking point.
And the webcam? It just added to it all.]
"Shut up!", he hissed through his teeth, voice filled with a nervous aggression. "Is... is this necessary?! Really?! Was... sending this thing to me not enough?!"
[His voice cracked, hands faltering for a moment. No, he couldn't get distracted. The person's second line, he forced himself to ignore it, focusing back on the window.
A blast of cold air his his hands, spilling down and over his feet. With a desperate pull, the window went up, clicking into place.
For a moment, he felt relief. But then... the screen. He forgot about the screen.
Muttering curses in both English and some other, much less common language, it was grabbed as well, taking much less strength to wrestle open. But it still took time. Time that he wasn't keeping track of.
As long as he was able, he would keep at it, though.
The screen wasn't lifted that much. But there was enough of a space for the stupid object to be thrown out through. So he grabbed it off the sill in a tight fist, and went to throw it as hard as his battered arm could possibly allow.]
"Pfft- ahah!"
[It would've been nice to relax the moment the little bomb went flying out the window. No more danger, right?
But his panic... his panic only continued, the man becoming much more aware of it once his focus fell away from the window. When had his heart started beating this quickly? When had his hands started shaking? Was his vision always this dark and unfocused?
He gripped the windowsill and leaned heavily against it, taking in a few choppy breaths as a pained look came upon his face. All of his injuries seemed to burn in unison, the memory of their creation echoing in his mind. It had been an explosion, not poison. But even then, his mind was locked on the thought. He couldn't help it.
The dead birds, the person, they weren't even acknowledged. His brain refused their presence, for the sake of his own sanity.
The sudden noise and voice from his desk did break Apollo's mental loop, making him stumble to face the source, a tight scowl appearing on his face.
"Shut up!", he exclaimed, with little delay. The voice that carried the words shook with strain, but carried a great upset intensity within it. "Don't... talk about him so... so carelessly!"
Even after nearly dying, his first thought was to defend Clay's memory. It wasn't a very surprising action for him, admittedly.
But, the time would come to face the current situation.
"...What do you want with me. What do you want with me?! You... you sick piece of... ugh!"
He stumbled over himself, verbally, as he swayed slightly on his feet. The fact he was still standing at all was a miracle, really, with how utterly sheet-white he looked.
[The person simply chuckled at Apollo's panic.]
"..p-piece of what, Justice? Eheh. What I want with you.. I dunno. I'm a bit angry. Maybe r-revenge for Mr. Phantom?"
[He tapped on the webcam, adjusting it.]
"..Since Phantom got that loser scientist and your b-buddy Terran, I-I assumed I might as well just finish off the t-trio, yeah? Too bad that little robot bastard freaked out. You'd p-probably be t-twitching on the floor right now."
[The person twirled in their chair.]
"Didn't e-even think you'd have that 'thing', though. Little bastard makes my job harder t-than it already is.. sigh... but, ah, riiight. I h-hear you were bombed recently. How was that? Eheheh."
"...What, is it suddenly my fault that he screwed up?!" Apollo grit his teeth, breath catching in his throat before he continued. "Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so careless!"
Apollo's eyelid twitched before his expression calmed slightly, his gaze losing focus for a moment. On top of everything else, his fury was only straining him more, a wave of dizziness throwing him off for a moment. With nothing better to do, he let himself fall to his knees, giving himself a long moment to recuperate his strength. Thankfully, lowering himself did help, as did the cold air pouring through the window.
It did not remove his anger, however.
Once his mental sharpness had returned, Apollo stared up towards the image, scowling deeply.
"I've... cheated death so many times, did you... really think this would work?"
It almost did. He was keenly aware of that.
"...You failed. How does that feel?"
Strong words for someone kneeling crumpled on the floor, nearly hyperventilating in panic.
At the mention of the bombing, he cringed, giving a silent scowl to the silhouette. His diverted eyes indicated his discomfort with it being brought up well enough.
"I'll admit, failure has a b-bitter bite."
"If... I really was weak-minded, I would've given up on everything a long time ago. I'm... stronger than you, you... failure of a murderer."
[While he spat out the insult, Apollo's bandaged fingers pressed onto the floor, palms flat against it as he kept himself steady. He was certainly tenacious. Or perhaps, did not know when to stop. Most likely, a combination of both.
His uneven fury was interrupted by the flickering of light, eyes darting over as his expression relaxed. The hologram... right, he had almost forgotten. His mind was too frazzled to keep the day's events in order, really.]
"I'm... fine.", he managed to mutter out, a rather obvious lie. He was, however, at least clearly alive.
Once Vaz' attention went to the screen, Apollo's did as well, expression pulling into a tense frown.
What a situation he had found himself in. Holograms, poison, and his own potential murderer. It... It was exhausting, to even simply think about.
"..wow, wow!"
[He slow-clapped. His voice was laced with sarcasm.]
"Failure of a murderer, hm? You sound like my f-father. Failure this, failure that. It's a-annoying, really."
[While he spoke Vaz quietly walked over to Apollo. It kept it's gaze on the screen.]
"I'd chat w-with you longer, but.. the p-police are on their way to your h-house. Byebye, Justice. <3"
[The screen turned off and then set itself aflame. It was harmless, though, only leaving a pile of black ash and burning a small hole into the desk it sat on. The flame died almost as soon as it had started.
.. He'd burned the evidence of himself. And probably was the one who called the police. Distantly there were sirens.]
"..Apollo.. we.. should go.. hide, or.. something."
[Vaz concernedly stared at Apollo.]
"...Hide?"
Apollo continued to stare at the spot where the screen had been, a vacant, exhausted look in his eyes. He just wanted to crawl into a corner and pass out, dealing with more was... it was wearing him rather thin, mentally.
"There's... this apartment is tiny. There's nowhere to hide."
His bed had space underneath, sure. But that was painfully obvious. The singular closet was also likely a poor option.
There was one idea, though. He just didn't know how well he could commit to it... this adrenaline rush could only last so long, couldn't it?
"...The sirens, they're... close, but not here. I... I bet I could still run."
Hoped he could still run, more so.
"..Alright."
"...Ugh."
Apollo watched Vaz grow in size, an exhausted look in his eyes. It was unbelievable, still, but everything really was. Everything always was.
Why couldn't his life be normal for once?
He reached up, taking the offered hand with a huff before he hoisted himself to his feet.
"Um... an event, right. Blending in... I... god, I look distinctive, don't I? I'll..."
He, after a moment of thought, reached up and just, messed the hell out of his hair. It was a mess, didn't look good at all. But... it certainly made him look less like himself. The jacket, as well, was thrown off, a red buttoned coat grabbed from the back of a chair. He did wear it around, but... less often than his usual outfit, and it was less unique than the GYAXA jacket.
He felt bad leaving it behind. But, it would do little more than cause him more issues, at the moment.
"I have some pockets, just... I don't know. You seem like you have a better handle on this situation than I do!"
He hoped the hologram did. Because... he sure didn't, himself.
"Yeah.. a better handle."
\\Appearance rn... I hope my 5 pixel tall attempt at remembering Vaz is sufficient lmao
"...Great. I'll just... I think I know where that is. The street, anyways."
[It said nothing as they traveled, eventually arriving at a stairway, with a few signs nearby advertising a.. bar, THE bar, as well as other places to go.]
"It's just down here."
[Down the stairs was 2 doors, one of them the bar, the other apparently a staff room. The bar door was unlocked, and it opened without even a creak. Inside was a dimly lit bar-room, occupied by two.. three people, including the bartender. The bartender gave Apollo a once-over, eyebrow raised quizzically, but went back to wiping down the bar.]
"We.. you can lie low here."
[The bartender's head turned at the sound of Vaz's little robotic voice.]
"..Good to see you again."
[He said nothing else regarding Vaz. Vaz hadn't even been really visible, considering he was haphazardly tucked into Apollo's pocket.]
"..Over here, sit on the cushioned long-chair.."
[It guided Apollo to a table with a plush sofa, against the back wall. The entire bar was suprisingly.. fancy, for a place that didn't seem to have many customers. The black wallpaper had an odd texture, flecks of the print reflecting the dim lighting of the modern-style chandelier surrounded by abstract, triangular wood sculptures hanging from the ceiling. There was a few framed photos of unrecognized musicians, and some colorful bottles with lights placed inside, purely decorative.]
[The two that were in the bar with Apollo and Vaz were silent, and had appeared to ignore them. One was a man and the other a woman. They looked related.]
"Well then. you okay?"
[Vaz questioned Apollo quietly once he'd settled on the sofa, getting out of his pocket and managing to hop onto the table, sitting so it's legs dangled off the edge. The bartender kept his eye on them. It was usual behaviour, since generally you'd expect visitors to buy a drink.]
To say the least, Apollo was way, way out of his league, here.
To be frank, he barely even went to bars in the first place. But this? This was... way more... more everything. Fancier, high-end, whatever. Everything exuded a sense of expensive exclusivity. He certainly didn't belong. Had the mall been that bad of an idea, really?
After getting over that crisis, he glanced around, taking in as much of his surroundings that he deemed important. Which wasn't much, aside from the people present. The comment towards him (or Vaz, really) had been unnerving, but considering no one seemed to heavily mind the hologram's presence, he decided to not care for now.
Relaxing back into the chair with a resigned sigh, Apollo took a glance down at Vaz, scrunching his face up a little.
"Well...", he muttered quietly, "...I... guess I'm okay. Physically. But, I'm just... what is this, exactly?"
A vague gesture was given to the room.
"And... how long do you think I have to hide?"
ongoing rp chain with @surging-eyes-seeing-through
(I dunno how to link parts, but this is part 3)
"..Yeah. and.. I can change my height if needed. This size is most efficient and I can maintain it indefinitely, unlike larger sizes. But I don't need to be big to cook."
[Vaz shrugs. It sways a little, back and forth.]
"There's also plenty of stuff i can cook at my size anyway. Minus.. anything that requires toasters. I tend to accidentally break them somehow."
[It leaned back before hopping laggily onto the floor, landing in silence.]
"And I refuse to fry things. Grease makes me feel icky, even if it just goes right through me."
[Vaz shivered. Probably in disgust.]
"...Well, thankfully, I don't have a fryer. I do have a toaster, but... if I really wanted toast, that's easy enough to make myself."
[Apollo hoisted himself back to his feet, giving a half-hearted stretch as he kept an eye on Vaz. After rubbing his eyes, ridding them of some of the last bits of sadness from earlier, he turned towards the doorway.]
"Though... ah. Don't feel like you need to cook for me, really." [An awkward glance was shot to the side.] "You are basically a stranger... I don't want to rope you into anything like this, you know? I just think it's impolite."
"Impolite, sure. Then you'll be cooking?"
"I mean... sure, yeah. I can do it myself." [He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before continuing.] "...And, that's right. signals... I can try to figure out what it'd be that's keeping you here, since I doubt you want to be stuck here forever. I just wouldn't know where to start, really."
[He had watched as Vaz stretched, raising a brow momentarily before his face returned to its usual neutral look. At the note regarding the state of his apartment, his expression shifted again, his eyes diverting as his mouth pulled back into an awkward half-smile.]
"Okay, well... I have at least one set of clean dishes, I know that."
[Speaking nothing of all of the dirty ones.]
"I've, you know. Just started, ah... getting my shit together, I guess you could say. I'm still catching up."
[Even talking about this to the equivalent of a little computer, it made Apollo thoroughly embarrassed. Even as he tried not to show it, his ears had gone red, the man partially trying to distract himself by bending down and plucking the colorful letter off the pile.
He should've opened it the moment he got it. He knew that. But, he just... hadn't felt like it. Better late than never, right? He thought to himself, as the envelope was idly torn open.]
[The letter was a loving mess. Inside was one of those stupid, cheesy, yet heartfelt "get-well-soon" cards. Written in it were a couple of words of encouragement. Even Klavier had written somethingβeven though it was written exactly how he talks, albiet a bit messy.. Trucy'd drawn a little smiley face where she'd written, 'Get better fast, 'polly!' And, written by that was a curt get better soon, signed off by Phoenix. Athena simply had doodled a stickman with a hat of flowers. (..Juniper, maybe?) ]
[For a brief moment, Apollo's eyes were able to scan the letter, a variety of emotions flashing across his face. He knew everyone cared, he really did, but seeing it all written plainly before him... it almost brought a tear to his eye.
Well, it did.
But he wiped it away as quick as he could. Being non-functional was embarrassing enough... He didn't need to be crying in front of the hologram, too.
"..unsure. I don't like it."
The air? The air. He sucked in a breath, eyes glancing beck to the object. He stared blankly to it, much too many seconds passing... what did it say, now?
1:00.
One minute.
What was he doing? Now wasn't the time to panic. Standing here like a deer in headlights was only going to get him hurt.
It wasn't like he could dispose of this casually. He needed it out. And far from this building, preferably. He didn't know what it was going to do, anyways. He didn't want to think about it.
...Ah, that's it. A window. Throw it out. Who cared if it hurt someone on the street, all he could think about was self-preservation at this point.
The little object was grabbed off the floor, little care given to the action. Whichever window was nearest to him was just about ran towards, with the man immediately trying to wrestle it open.
If one had ever attempted to open a window in an old building, they would understand his struggle. A solid grip and strength were needed to do so, two things that Apollo was somewhat lacking in at the moment. The little 'die' (a rather fitting name) was set on the sill as he grappled with the window itself, ignoring the aches in his arms the attempts were causing. At least the chill of the outdoors was seeping through, numbing it all to some degree.
"One minute left!" The little thing chimed.
"...Ugh! you... you motherfucker!"
[He didn't swear often, really, despite having been through enough in his life to justify doing such a thing. But this... The duress of the situation was getting to him. The little chime, that... that was the breaking point.
And the webcam? It just added to it all.]
"Shut up!", he hissed through his teeth, voice filled with a nervous aggression. "Is... is this necessary?! Really?! Was... sending this thing to me not enough?!"
[His voice cracked, hands faltering for a moment. No, he couldn't get distracted. The person's second line, he forced himself to ignore it, focusing back on the window.
A blast of cold air his his hands, spilling down and over his feet. With a desperate pull, the window went up, clicking into place.
For a moment, he felt relief. But then... the screen. He forgot about the screen.
Muttering curses in both English and some other, much less common language, it was grabbed as well, taking much less strength to wrestle open. But it still took time. Time that he wasn't keeping track of.
As long as he was able, he would keep at it, though.
The screen wasn't lifted that much. But there was enough of a space for the stupid object to be thrown out through. So he grabbed it off the sill in a tight fist, and went to throw it as hard as his battered arm could possibly allow.]
"Pfft- ahah!"
[It would've been nice to relax the moment the little bomb went flying out the window. No more danger, right?
But his panic... his panic only continued, the man becoming much more aware of it once his focus fell away from the window. When had his heart started beating this quickly? When had his hands started shaking? Was his vision always this dark and unfocused?
He gripped the windowsill and leaned heavily against it, taking in a few choppy breaths as a pained look came upon his face. All of his injuries seemed to burn in unison, the memory of their creation echoing in his mind. It had been an explosion, not poison. But even then, his mind was locked on the thought. He couldn't help it.
The dead birds, the person, they weren't even acknowledged. His brain refused their presence, for the sake of his own sanity.
The sudden noise and voice from his desk did break Apollo's mental loop, making him stumble to face the source, a tight scowl appearing on his face.
"Shut up!", he exclaimed, with little delay. The voice that carried the words shook with strain, but carried a great upset intensity within it. "Don't... talk about him so... so carelessly!"
Even after nearly dying, his first thought was to defend Clay's memory. It wasn't a very surprising action for him, admittedly.
But, the time would come to face the current situation.
"...What do you want with me. What do you want with me?! You... you sick piece of... ugh!"
He stumbled over himself, verbally, as he swayed slightly on his feet. The fact he was still standing at all was a miracle, really, with how utterly sheet-white he looked.
[The person simply chuckled at Apollo's panic.]
"..p-piece of what, Justice? Eheh. What I want with you.. I dunno. I'm a bit angry. Maybe r-revenge for Mr. Phantom?"
[He tapped on the webcam, adjusting it.]
"..Since Phantom got that loser scientist and your b-buddy Terran, I-I assumed I might as well just finish off the t-trio, yeah? Too bad that little robot bastard freaked out. You'd p-probably be t-twitching on the floor right now."
[The person twirled in their chair.]
"Didn't e-even think you'd have that 'thing', though. Little bastard makes my job harder t-than it already is.. sigh... but, ah, riiight. I h-hear you were bombed recently. How was that? Eheheh."
"...What, is it suddenly my fault that he screwed up?!" Apollo grit his teeth, breath catching in his throat before he continued. "Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so careless!"
Apollo's eyelid twitched before his expression calmed slightly, his gaze losing focus for a moment. On top of everything else, his fury was only straining him more, a wave of dizziness throwing him off for a moment. With nothing better to do, he let himself fall to his knees, giving himself a long moment to recuperate his strength. Thankfully, lowering himself did help, as did the cold air pouring through the window.
It did not remove his anger, however.
Once his mental sharpness had returned, Apollo stared up towards the image, scowling deeply.
"I've... cheated death so many times, did you... really think this would work?"
It almost did. He was keenly aware of that.
"...You failed. How does that feel?"
Strong words for someone kneeling crumpled on the floor, nearly hyperventilating in panic.
At the mention of the bombing, he cringed, giving a silent scowl to the silhouette. His diverted eyes indicated his discomfort with it being brought up well enough.
"I'll admit, failure has a b-bitter bite."
"If... I really was weak-minded, I would've given up on everything a long time ago. I'm... stronger than you, you... failure of a murderer."
[While he spat out the insult, Apollo's bandaged fingers pressed onto the floor, palms flat against it as he kept himself steady. He was certainly tenacious. Or perhaps, did not know when to stop. Most likely, a combination of both.
His uneven fury was interrupted by the flickering of light, eyes darting over as his expression relaxed. The hologram... right, he had almost forgotten. His mind was too frazzled to keep the day's events in order, really.]
"I'm... fine.", he managed to mutter out, a rather obvious lie. He was, however, at least clearly alive.
Once Vaz' attention went to the screen, Apollo's did as well, expression pulling into a tense frown.
What a situation he had found himself in. Holograms, poison, and his own potential murderer. It... It was exhausting, to even simply think about.
"..wow, wow!"
[He slow-clapped. His voice was laced with sarcasm.]
"Failure of a murderer, hm? You sound like my f-father. Failure this, failure that. It's a-annoying, really."
[While he spoke Vaz quietly walked over to Apollo. It kept it's gaze on the screen.]
"I'd chat w-with you longer, but.. the p-police are on their way to your h-house. Byebye, Justice. <3"
[The screen turned off and then set itself aflame. It was harmless, though, only leaving a pile of black ash and burning a small hole into the desk it sat on. The flame died almost as soon as it had started.
.. He'd burned the evidence of himself. And probably was the one who called the police. Distantly there were sirens.]
"..Apollo.. we.. should go.. hide, or.. something."
[Vaz concernedly stared at Apollo.]
"...Hide?"
Apollo continued to stare at the spot where the screen had been, a vacant, exhausted look in his eyes. He just wanted to crawl into a corner and pass out, dealing with more was... it was wearing him rather thin, mentally.
"There's... this apartment is tiny. There's nowhere to hide."
His bed had space underneath, sure. But that was painfully obvious. The singular closet was also likely a poor option.
There was one idea, though. He just didn't know how well he could commit to it... this adrenaline rush could only last so long, couldn't it?
"...The sirens, they're... close, but not here. I... I bet I could still run."
Hoped he could still run, more so.
"..Alright."
"...Ugh."
Apollo watched Vaz grow in size, an exhausted look in his eyes. It was unbelievable, still, but everything really was. Everything always was.
Why couldn't his life be normal for once?
He reached up, taking the offered hand with a huff before he hoisted himself to his feet.
"Um... an event, right. Blending in... I... god, I look distinctive, don't I? I'll..."
He, after a moment of thought, reached up and just, messed the hell out of his hair. It was a mess, didn't look good at all. But... it certainly made him look less like himself. The jacket, as well, was thrown off, a red buttoned coat grabbed from the back of a chair. He did wear it around, but... less often than his usual outfit, and it was less unique than the GYAXA jacket.
He felt bad leaving it behind. But, it would do little more than cause him more issues, at the moment.
"I have some pockets, just... I don't know. You seem like you have a better handle on this situation than I do!"
He hoped the hologram did. Because... he sure didn't, himself.
"Yeah.. a better handle."
\\Appearance rn... I hope my 5 pixel tall attempt at remembering Vaz is sufficient lmao
"...Great. I'll just... I think I know where that is. The street, anyways."
ongoing rp chain with @surging-eyes-seeing-through
(I dunno how to link parts, but this is part 3)
"..Yeah. and.. I can change my height if needed. This size is most efficient and I can maintain it indefinitely, unlike larger sizes. But I don't need to be big to cook."
[Vaz shrugs. It sways a little, back and forth.]
"There's also plenty of stuff i can cook at my size anyway. Minus.. anything that requires toasters. I tend to accidentally break them somehow."
[It leaned back before hopping laggily onto the floor, landing in silence.]
"And I refuse to fry things. Grease makes me feel icky, even if it just goes right through me."
[Vaz shivered. Probably in disgust.]
"...Well, thankfully, I don't have a fryer. I do have a toaster, but... if I really wanted toast, that's easy enough to make myself."
[Apollo hoisted himself back to his feet, giving a half-hearted stretch as he kept an eye on Vaz. After rubbing his eyes, ridding them of some of the last bits of sadness from earlier, he turned towards the doorway.]
"Though... ah. Don't feel like you need to cook for me, really." [An awkward glance was shot to the side.] "You are basically a stranger... I don't want to rope you into anything like this, you know? I just think it's impolite."
"Impolite, sure. Then you'll be cooking?"
"I mean... sure, yeah. I can do it myself." [He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before continuing.] "...And, that's right. signals... I can try to figure out what it'd be that's keeping you here, since I doubt you want to be stuck here forever. I just wouldn't know where to start, really."
[He had watched as Vaz stretched, raising a brow momentarily before his face returned to its usual neutral look. At the note regarding the state of his apartment, his expression shifted again, his eyes diverting as his mouth pulled back into an awkward half-smile.]
"Okay, well... I have at least one set of clean dishes, I know that."
[Speaking nothing of all of the dirty ones.]
"I've, you know. Just started, ah... getting my shit together, I guess you could say. I'm still catching up."
[Even talking about this to the equivalent of a little computer, it made Apollo thoroughly embarrassed. Even as he tried not to show it, his ears had gone red, the man partially trying to distract himself by bending down and plucking the colorful letter off the pile.
He should've opened it the moment he got it. He knew that. But, he just... hadn't felt like it. Better late than never, right? He thought to himself, as the envelope was idly torn open.]
[The letter was a loving mess. Inside was one of those stupid, cheesy, yet heartfelt "get-well-soon" cards. Written in it were a couple of words of encouragement. Even Klavier had written somethingβeven though it was written exactly how he talks, albiet a bit messy.. Trucy'd drawn a little smiley face where she'd written, 'Get better fast, 'polly!' And, written by that was a curt get better soon, signed off by Phoenix. Athena simply had doodled a stickman with a hat of flowers. (..Juniper, maybe?) ]
[For a brief moment, Apollo's eyes were able to scan the letter, a variety of emotions flashing across his face. He knew everyone cared, he really did, but seeing it all written plainly before him... it almost brought a tear to his eye.
Well, it did.
But he wiped it away as quick as he could. Being non-functional was embarrassing enough... He didn't need to be crying in front of the hologram, too.
"..unsure. I don't like it."
The air? The air. He sucked in a breath, eyes glancing beck to the object. He stared blankly to it, much too many seconds passing... what did it say, now?
1:00.
One minute.
What was he doing? Now wasn't the time to panic. Standing here like a deer in headlights was only going to get him hurt.
It wasn't like he could dispose of this casually. He needed it out. And far from this building, preferably. He didn't know what it was going to do, anyways. He didn't want to think about it.
...Ah, that's it. A window. Throw it out. Who cared if it hurt someone on the street, all he could think about was self-preservation at this point.
The little object was grabbed off the floor, little care given to the action. Whichever window was nearest to him was just about ran towards, with the man immediately trying to wrestle it open.
If one had ever attempted to open a window in an old building, they would understand his struggle. A solid grip and strength were needed to do so, two things that Apollo was somewhat lacking in at the moment. The little 'die' (a rather fitting name) was set on the sill as he grappled with the window itself, ignoring the aches in his arms the attempts were causing. At least the chill of the outdoors was seeping through, numbing it all to some degree.
"One minute left!" The little thing chimed.
"...Ugh! you... you motherfucker!"
[He didn't swear often, really, despite having been through enough in his life to justify doing such a thing. But this... The duress of the situation was getting to him. The little chime, that... that was the breaking point.
And the webcam? It just added to it all.]
"Shut up!", he hissed through his teeth, voice filled with a nervous aggression. "Is... is this necessary?! Really?! Was... sending this thing to me not enough?!"
[His voice cracked, hands faltering for a moment. No, he couldn't get distracted. The person's second line, he forced himself to ignore it, focusing back on the window.
A blast of cold air his his hands, spilling down and over his feet. With a desperate pull, the window went up, clicking into place.
For a moment, he felt relief. But then... the screen. He forgot about the screen.
Muttering curses in both English and some other, much less common language, it was grabbed as well, taking much less strength to wrestle open. But it still took time. Time that he wasn't keeping track of.
As long as he was able, he would keep at it, though.
The screen wasn't lifted that much. But there was enough of a space for the stupid object to be thrown out through. So he grabbed it off the sill in a tight fist, and went to throw it as hard as his battered arm could possibly allow.]
"Pfft- ahah!"
[It would've been nice to relax the moment the little bomb went flying out the window. No more danger, right?
But his panic... his panic only continued, the man becoming much more aware of it once his focus fell away from the window. When had his heart started beating this quickly? When had his hands started shaking? Was his vision always this dark and unfocused?
He gripped the windowsill and leaned heavily against it, taking in a few choppy breaths as a pained look came upon his face. All of his injuries seemed to burn in unison, the memory of their creation echoing in his mind. It had been an explosion, not poison. But even then, his mind was locked on the thought. He couldn't help it.
The dead birds, the person, they weren't even acknowledged. His brain refused their presence, for the sake of his own sanity.
The sudden noise and voice from his desk did break Apollo's mental loop, making him stumble to face the source, a tight scowl appearing on his face.
"Shut up!", he exclaimed, with little delay. The voice that carried the words shook with strain, but carried a great upset intensity within it. "Don't... talk about him so... so carelessly!"
Even after nearly dying, his first thought was to defend Clay's memory. It wasn't a very surprising action for him, admittedly.
But, the time would come to face the current situation.
"...What do you want with me. What do you want with me?! You... you sick piece of... ugh!"
He stumbled over himself, verbally, as he swayed slightly on his feet. The fact he was still standing at all was a miracle, really, with how utterly sheet-white he looked.
[The person simply chuckled at Apollo's panic.]
"..p-piece of what, Justice? Eheh. What I want with you.. I dunno. I'm a bit angry. Maybe r-revenge for Mr. Phantom?"
[He tapped on the webcam, adjusting it.]
"..Since Phantom got that loser scientist and your b-buddy Terran, I-I assumed I might as well just finish off the t-trio, yeah? Too bad that little robot bastard freaked out. You'd p-probably be t-twitching on the floor right now."
[The person twirled in their chair.]
"Didn't e-even think you'd have that 'thing', though. Little bastard makes my job harder t-than it already is.. sigh... but, ah, riiight. I h-hear you were bombed recently. How was that? Eheheh."
"...What, is it suddenly my fault that he screwed up?!" Apollo grit his teeth, breath catching in his throat before he continued. "Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so careless!"
Apollo's eyelid twitched before his expression calmed slightly, his gaze losing focus for a moment. On top of everything else, his fury was only straining him more, a wave of dizziness throwing him off for a moment. With nothing better to do, he let himself fall to his knees, giving himself a long moment to recuperate his strength. Thankfully, lowering himself did help, as did the cold air pouring through the window.
It did not remove his anger, however.
Once his mental sharpness had returned, Apollo stared up towards the image, scowling deeply.
"I've... cheated death so many times, did you... really think this would work?"
It almost did. He was keenly aware of that.
"...You failed. How does that feel?"
Strong words for someone kneeling crumpled on the floor, nearly hyperventilating in panic.
At the mention of the bombing, he cringed, giving a silent scowl to the silhouette. His diverted eyes indicated his discomfort with it being brought up well enough.
"I'll admit, failure has a b-bitter bite."
"If... I really was weak-minded, I would've given up on everything a long time ago. I'm... stronger than you, you... failure of a murderer."
[While he spat out the insult, Apollo's bandaged fingers pressed onto the floor, palms flat against it as he kept himself steady. He was certainly tenacious. Or perhaps, did not know when to stop. Most likely, a combination of both.
His uneven fury was interrupted by the flickering of light, eyes darting over as his expression relaxed. The hologram... right, he had almost forgotten. His mind was too frazzled to keep the day's events in order, really.]
"I'm... fine.", he managed to mutter out, a rather obvious lie. He was, however, at least clearly alive.
Once Vaz' attention went to the screen, Apollo's did as well, expression pulling into a tense frown.
What a situation he had found himself in. Holograms, poison, and his own potential murderer. It... It was exhausting, to even simply think about.
"..wow, wow!"
[He slow-clapped. His voice was laced with sarcasm.]
"Failure of a murderer, hm? You sound like my f-father. Failure this, failure that. It's a-annoying, really."
[While he spoke Vaz quietly walked over to Apollo. It kept it's gaze on the screen.]
"I'd chat w-with you longer, but.. the p-police are on their way to your h-house. Byebye, Justice. <3"
[The screen turned off and then set itself aflame. It was harmless, though, only leaving a pile of black ash and burning a small hole into the desk it sat on. The flame died almost as soon as it had started.
.. He'd burned the evidence of himself. And probably was the one who called the police. Distantly there were sirens.]
"..Apollo.. we.. should go.. hide, or.. something."
[Vaz concernedly stared at Apollo.]
"...Hide?"
Apollo continued to stare at the spot where the screen had been, a vacant, exhausted look in his eyes. He just wanted to crawl into a corner and pass out, dealing with more was... it was wearing him rather thin, mentally.
"There's... this apartment is tiny. There's nowhere to hide."
His bed had space underneath, sure. But that was painfully obvious. The singular closet was also likely a poor option.
There was one idea, though. He just didn't know how well he could commit to it... this adrenaline rush could only last so long, couldn't it?
"...The sirens, they're... close, but not here. I... I bet I could still run."
Hoped he could still run, more so.
"..Alright."
"...Ugh."
Apollo watched Vaz grow in size, an exhausted look in his eyes. It was unbelievable, still, but everything really was. Everything always was.
Why couldn't his life be normal for once?
He reached up, taking the offered hand with a huff before he hoisted himself to his feet.
"Um... an event, right. Blending in... I... god, I look distinctive, don't I? I'll..."
He, after a moment of thought, reached up and just, messed the hell out of his hair. It was a mess, didn't look good at all. But... it certainly made him look less like himself. The jacket, as well, was thrown off, a red buttoned coat grabbed from the back of a chair. He did wear it around, but... less often than his usual outfit, and it was less unique than the GYAXA jacket.
He felt bad leaving it behind. But, it would do little more than cause him more issues, at the moment.
"I have some pockets, just... I don't know. You seem like you have a better handle on this situation than I do!"
He hoped the hologram did. Because... he sure didn't, himself.
okay brody so I wasn't considering the meaning but I googled the meaning and I... could say that in this case they mean respect and honour(??? I guess you learn something new
\\i did laugh when i saw that flowers were sent because i was like ok i swear to god if they're spider lilies or something... then i was like ok no! normal flowers. Are tulips normal? I think they are,
yeah, Basil and Bertie. 14 and 6 years old. almost looks like Mr Gavin has a soft side, eh?
"...Sure." (...What I want to know is, who's going around letting convicted killers adopt kids? Is... there a shortage of parents or something? Not like I'd know...)
no but really therapy anon is right, you need to go to therapy at least once! also, it's not like they'll tell everyone about your secrets, that's breaking the professionalism!
"...I know they won't share it, it's not that. Just talking about it in the first place, with a stranger, that's what gets me."
"If it'll make you people happy, I... nailed down a date and time to meet Prosecutor Gavin at a cafe. I don't know if I'll talk about anything deep, but... at least I'll be talking to someone other than my coworkers, for once."
get flowered
"Um... alright." (Do I even have a vase to put these in?)
"...Don't tell me these mean something bad. Flowers mean things, right?"
have ya heard about those kids Mr Gavin adopted?
"It's, uh... the first time I'm hearing anything of the sort." (...Are they letting death-row inmates adopt kids, now..?)
Apollo! What's your stance on love?
"I mean... neutral, I guess? I don't have any particular... love for it, hah... But it's fine, whatever."
Apolololololololololololo, bud, you need, like, sooooooooooo much therapy
"...You think?"
"...Still not really sure how to go about it, though. It's hard to trust strangers with the things I'd be talking about, you know?"
APPLE JUICE. you are a huge nerd. that is all, byyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeee
"I... you know what, at least you're not trying to eat my hair. Good on you for that, have a gold star."
[...a hypothetical good star, apparently. He doesn't actually have one for you.]
I wanna both chew on you like lasagna AND eat your hair, apololo
"...You people are menaces, you know that, right?" (Can't a guy get some rest around here?!)
Are you French? Because Eiffel for you
"I'd rather be listening to Mr. Wright's dad jokes than this... whatever this is." (And they aren't even good dad jokes...)
