Participants:
| Scene Title | Paranoia in the Park |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A nice cool Autumn day brings out all sorts to enjoy a few hours in Central Park. But one man isn't there to have fun. Will he spoil the day for everyone else? Yep. |
| Date | October 12, 2010 |
After a lack of spring, followed by the heat of summer, a late afternoon with cool weather is something of a godsend, and people are taking full advantage of it, trying to get in outdoor fun before it gets too cold. Again. There are parents watching their children play, people throwing frisbees to dogs, and of course the normal bikers and joggers.
The park is full with all those people of course, but it is a big area, so it's not really crowded. There is music playing here and there, though most people who are enjoying such things generally have headphones to go with it. There's a lot of talking though, along with barking and laughing, making it far from a quiet place to be. But on days like this, who needs quiet, and no one here seems to mind, most of them content with the day.
However, there is always one bad apple in the bunch, someone who is destined to bring down the entire mood. Today it's a man sitting on a bench alone, his hair dark, a goatee accompanied by a five o'clock shadow, and wearing jeans and a wife-beater. He watches people pass by or sit and have fun, and scowls at them all. It's enough that more than one mother pushing a stroller or holding the hand of a child gives him a wide berth, not wanting to stray anywhere close to him.
But surely he can be avoided easily. Right?
Marjorie is one such parent, who slips her arm around her boy's shoulders as they pass the man. She eyes him like she eyes any stranger, any potential danger to her 10 year old son. That 10 year old son, with his mother's (aunt's) freckles and two big old front teeth walks along contently beside his mother, mawing on a very good apple - a caramel apple. His mother has one too, dressed in her slacks and red shoes, wrapped up in a warm purple knitted wrap sweater. Her wavy chocolate hair is down, and her lipstick is bright red, even as she enjoys the apple. The son continues to talk, as kids do.
"So then Jimmy at school, he's twice my size, struck out! I struck him out! I never thought I could be good at baseball, it was never really my sport. But I struck him out, mom!" Marjorie smiles proudly and appropriately, dimples striking up in her cheeks. But as her green eyes lift to watch the man, a darkness comes over her face, just barely, the darkness of a mother protecting her young from a big and dangerous world.
Meantime, the next bench up from the solitary, scowling man is also occupied by a solitary man; this one young, lean and clad in a leather jacket topped off with a black stetson on his head. Milton's eyes are concealed by sunglasses, and oblivious (or so it seems) of his surroundings, he's staring away to the south, in the direction of the wrecked and ruined area that was transformed by the bomb.
Someone else has been watching Owain. From afar, blue eyes latched onto the kid who gnaws on the candy apple and oblivious to the others in her entourage. Without regard for them, the brown haired girl runs over, looking this way and that to make sure she doesn't get run over by anything she can't hear coming and parks up from where Marjorie and Owain are walking, them coming towards her and waiting. Waiting. Waiting. When he's close, there's a smile from the young girl, one year less than Owain and a wave. "Hi" The sounds just off enough, cheeks red. Marlena has a crush.
Brennan's watching from afar with the twins latched onto either leg, goose stepping as much as he can while they squeal and scream for him to go faster, dressed for the cooler weather. It's time out, away from home, the Nanny has the day off and Michelle is resting at home and getting a much needed break.
Nadia's come out to Central Park today to enjoy the last of the pleasant weather before the cold sets in again. The face of Registration offers a practiced smile to those who double take, offering a cheerful wave to each person, regardless of whether the looks are glares or just stares. She wears a pair of skinny jeans, with a pair of knee-high high heeled boots (with the fur!), a long-sleeved white shirt, and a fuzzy looking black vest, complete with a grey-tone scarf. Nadia has been enjoying her designer fashion these days.
She is seated on the hill near the bench that contains the bad apple of the bunch; she doesn't exactly notice the fellow, however. She's busy quietly drawing. Her eyes are on Brennan, keeping her distance. She's drawing him, it seems. She can't help but think the man absolutely gorgeous, and seeing him out here on her inspiration day simply presenting too much of a temptation.
It seems that Dr. Harve Brennan may end up getting his face immortalized in stone.
There's really only ever one reason Barbara Zimmerman comes to Central Park anymore, and the small easel that sits in front of her at the bench she sits at gives it a good indication of just what that is. A bag sits beside her, open and with various pictures and drawing materials spilled out across its entire length, a green pastel stick held in hand as she tries to paint the landscape in front of her, regardless of the numerous people passing in front of her.
The last time she had the opportunity to go out to the park and draw, she was met with a very pleasant surprise. A aprt of her was hoping today wouldn't be any different, but only time would tell.
Cheery people. Cheery people are against the rules today. When Nadia's noticed by the grumpy butt, he gives her a dark look then glances away. Humbug. He even folds his arms over his chest in a surly, sullen pose. Someone must have stolen his caramel apple.
Unfortunately, while Barbara may be hoping for a pleasant surprise, what she gets is entirely unpleasant. A wave of fear washes over her, strong enough to send a chill up her spine, and intense enough that it cannot be ignored, not entirely. It's a nameless sort of fear, nothing concrete to cause it. At least nothing obvious.
Marjorie pauses as Owain comes to a haulting stop as a pretty girl is suddenly all up in his bitness or whatever the kids say these days. Marjorie recognizes the potential, and immediatly removes her arm from her son. She's standing nearby, but making him seem like his own man or something. She doesn't want to raise a mama's boy! Well, secretly she does. But she has to make it seem innocuous. All part of her grand plan!
"Hi," Owain says, perfectly friendly, even as his freckles start to glow. "Who are you? Oh wait, no I remember. I've seen you in the girls gym class. I don't really know a whole lot of girls yet though, cause I just meet some guys from my basketball team." He puffs up a little. Yes, he plays basketball! He's tough!
Marjorie, in the meantime, takes this moment to take a half step back. Alwasy keeping the boy in her line of sight. But she looks around and spies the man's father, a man she's recognized from a few previous run-ins. She walks over to Brennan, turning to be able to watch her son as it is. "I guess New York isn't that big of a city after all," she says politely, conversationally.
Milton, the thin man in the stetson and shades, remains on his seat, gazing rapt through his shades into the past. He has no idea, of course, of exactly how far back he's seeing. But to his eyes at least, the pre-bomb vision he's granted is full of happy and content people, people without a care, people to whom the Evolved and today's world was completely unknown. Small wonder that he gives a little sigh as he watches the scene, and remains oblivious to what's around him in today's world.
"Marlena" Like speaking with a mouthful of marbles. She's trying to keep up with his speaking, eyes on his lips rather than right on his eyes but Marlena is doing okay. "I saw you score a basket the other day" A nasaly mouth full of marbles. The girls still cling to Brennan's legs, unaware of Nadia sketching from afar, prying one girl off his legs to toss her up and ease her back down as Marjorie makes her way over. "You'd be amazed how small a city this can be. No hard feelings I hope, for having a difference of opinions?" He offers a hand out to her. "Doctor Harve Brennan" But she never gets the chance to shake it as the other of the twins is jumping up, hands coming around it and yanking him down. "daaaaaaaaaady" and the girls attack, ticking their father.
The glower received from Grumpy Butt is either ignored, or not seen at all; Nadia's too busy with happily sketching Brennan's features into the sketch pad. As Marjorie joins him just when she's finishing the sketch of Brennan, she grins, and just beneath Brennan, she doodles Marjorie. Subject material for her sculpting, likely. Either way, Nadia is in a cheerful mood. One group of people stops to peer at the political starlet, which prompts another smile and a cheerful wave. Then, she's back to scribbling in the sketchpad, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she does so.
Barbara shivers noticeably as the sense of fear and paranoia begins to wash over her, hand trembling - and in the process leaving a long, green streak across the middle of her drawing. She has no idea why she suddenly feels this way, looking around worriedly to and fro, as if she's having some premonition that she wouldn't normally have. Like FRONTLINE and the Institute are about to descend on her any moment.
That, after all, was the last time she felt truly scared. It doesn't take more than moment for Barbara to decide it's time to leave, and in an instant she's hurriedly and in a growing state of panic grabbing her things and shoving them into her bag.
Once Barbara stands after grabbing her things, the intense fear fades, as if it never was. Maybe it was a premonition of some sort? For a moment all is well in the park once again. But just for a moment. Then it seems that Marjorie's son gets hit with the same near-crippling fear that Barbara did. Except with it being a child, it's unlikely that it will go as unnoticed as Barbara's did.
"How come you talk so strange? It sounds like you're talking under water." Owain points out to Marlena. Though as she watches, she'll see that his blushing freckles have now come to white, with those spots sticking out like a dalmations. He starts to step back from Marlena, looking left and right. "Mom," he says at first, trying to remain calm. But it only lasts a few seconds, and then his apple is dropped. It hits the ground, soaking up dirt faster than any 5 second rule could ever accomadate for.
"Mom. Mom. Mommommommommom…" He seems terrified for a moment that he can't find her, and although Marjorie is only a foot away, by the time she reaches him, he has tears stinging his eyes and cheeks. "Mom!Mom!Mom!" He's shrieking, a child's voice that hasn't dropped. Hardly teh manly front he wanted to put on for Marlena.
"No hard feelings whatsoever. I'm Marjorie," She's in the process of that 'boring grown-up talk' when Owain starts to lose it. Being a paranoid parent, Marjorie almost pounces on her son, sweeping him up into her arms even if he is a bit heavy and pushing his head agianst her shoulder. "Mommy's here, wha'ts wrong? Owain, what's wrong? Did you see something?" She manages to keep her own voice calm, although her grene eyes are terrified. HEr own apple is abandoned and she spins, turning this way and that to see what could be driving her son so mad. She sees the creepy man sitting at the bench - her eyes never left him really, being a super paranoid and finding a creeper to watch, but she just continues to look around in case something else is coming.
The noise coming from Owain is sufficient to pierce Milton's reverie. Filled with a renewed hatred for little kids in all their many forms, he abandons his happy vision of the pre-bomb world, turns round on his seat, and pulls off his shades to deliver a glare to the howling youngster. This of course also gives him a view of Marjorie, Marlena, Barbara — and the man on the bench next to his. He scans them all, trying to figure out what on earth has set Owain off into such a world of hurt.
Marlena's looking upset because of Owains comment about how she talks, but because in the next moment, he's running away from her, candied apple dropped and she's bewildered and hurt never mind that he isn't the first to purposefully or accidentally make fun of her when she tries to speak. Digging her hands into her pocket, she's returning to her father and her sisters who have paused in their play to stare at owain and his fear.
Brennan is striding forward, reaching out, dropping a hand to Marlena's back to comfort, his other hand spelling out the letters, inquiring what is wrong while looking back to where the two had been standing. "everything okay?"
Nadia is a quick artist, and once Marjorie's face is sketched into the pad, she's sketching Grumpy Butt, her tongue sticking out even still. She's halfway done with the details on his face, when the little boy begins to scream. Her eyes promptly raise upward, frowning toward the child with a concerned expression. She frowns quietly, her pencil pausing on the paper as she peers at the frightened child. However, she remains seated, simply watching quietly. Not that she can do much of anything.
As the fear suddenly subsides, Barbara is left staring down at her scattered pencils and sketch books, one clattering to the ground as it slips through a crack between wood panels. She doesn't even begin to know what caused the feeling tos weep over her, now why it's gone so fast, and that worries her more than anything else. She spent years working in a commune of Evolved individuals. This happening, to her, does not bode well.
Hearing Owain snaps her a bit out of her thought, looking up and around for something, anything, that could be the source of what she just experience. If she doesn't find out soon… it's time to go regardless, and she's continuing packing up her materials just in case.
Unfortunately, Owain's fear doesn't abate quickly like Barbara's did. Rather it spreads. Marjorie is the first to get hit. Then Brennan and Marlene. Then soon, anyone who is within a few feet of them starts to feel the overwhelming fear of nothing and everything all at once. And sitting over on his bench, ignored by most, avoided by most, the scowly man smiles, just a touch, trying to hide it.
Marjorie is turning, faster now, away from Brennan and his children. She doesn't even see them anymore. Owain is sobbing into her shoulder, soaking her purple sweater. But it doesn't matter - whatever it is that is endangering her and her son will die. It's a mother's powerful instinct, a paranoid, terrified mother's powerful instinct. And this mother, at least, has the power to go with it. As she turns, her eyes fall to the creepy man once more. He's creepy, and he's just leering there. Him first. And if it's not him? Why she'll blow them all away if she has to, just because she knows something's here to hurt her son.
Apologies in advance to anyone else who is sitting on that bench, and the bench itself. Marjorie's hands, from the wrist down, suddenly have a yellowish white glow about them, down to each fingertip. And then - is there a glare of light in front of her, like what happens when the sun catches a window? It doesn't matter, it's over in a second, as Marjorie holds her son with one arm and launches the palm of her opposite hand with a slight grunt toward the creeper and the bench.
It will be like a brick wall hit them both - the man and the bench. The wall is sweeping them away from Marjorie and Owain. Away from her and her son. Away, away, away!
The fear reaches Milton and takes hold of him like a giant fist with very cold fingers, squeezing. For a couple of seconds he's taken aback, confused. Then the thought strikes him so hard he almost falls over. He has felt this sudden, chilling, inescapable fear before. In the diner. The day that he first manifested his power of seeing the past. The day that he was stabbed by a man that the police have never been able to find. With the quick, confused thought spurred by fear, Milton forms an immediate conclusion. The man who stabbed him is here, again, now. Well, this time Milton is ready for him. This time, if there's to be any stabbing done, Milton is going to be the stabber and not the stabbee. He leaps to his feet, a snarl contorting his face as his fists double, and he takes a lurching step towards Owain — the most obvious candidate, in Milton's mind, for his assailant.
Fear sinks it's hold around Brennan's spine, tendrils sneaking it's way into between each vertebrae and making his heart quicken and the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. His hands stilling in response to Marlena's flurry of sign language, grabbing her jacket and yanking her close. It stills too when he does it and screams from whatever the evolved fear is doing to her and instilling in her mind, the two little girls doing the same as they run for their father, eye's starting to water and saline running down their cheeks. The unexplained fear makes him grab for them as well, hold them close even as he's looking around in panic.
Chest tight with the fear, negation switches on, sweeping where he goes and any abilities in play choked off as he starts looking and looking for danger that raises his hackles. Marjorie, even as she's lifting her hand, Owain a few seconds later and then towards the man on the bench that Marjorie seems to point to. He's felt this before, something niggles in the back of his head, the fear that has no viable reason other than fear itself. An empath had been responsible then, but here? The other man - Milton - is looked at trying to keep a hand on each of his girls and hold them close frozen in place as if that might protect them.
But Nadia isn't ignoring the scowly fellow. She was just about to resume sketching him when she noticed him smiling, her hands portraying the smile on his features as accurately as she can. Then, the fear begins to creep its way up her spine. The woman quickly throws her pencil and sketchpad into her purse, her eyes slowly growing in size. Then, she's scrambling away from the man, until her back bumps up against a tree. This prompts a sharp spike in Nadia's fear, her eyes wide as she stares at that smiling man.
And she's starting to lose that fine control she has over her ability that keeps her from hurting people.
Nadia is violently raising on her feet, eyes wide, as the earth suddenly begins to groan beneath the feet of those gathered, faults in the earth voicing their protests as the terrakinetic's ability awakens them. It starts off slowly, at first; just a slight vibration. But it quickly escalates; in a 200 yard radius around Nadia, an earthquake has begun to grow on the richter scale, quickly climbing its way toward a good 6 or so.
And now Barbara is just confused more than anything else as the fear begins to spread across the crowd. She looking around, frantically - not because the fear has gripped her again, but rather to see if she can spot the source. But with the growing size of panicking people, and the sudden vibration of the ground beneath her, she knows better than to go rushing in. She just had to hope that whoever or whatever is causing this doesn't ahve it hit her again.
As the man flies back, the fear instantly ceases. He lands heavily on his back in a small pile of debris from the bench. Looks like he was the culprit. That or the act just distracted the one who was actually responsible. He groans and sits up slowly, fighting to recover enough so he can run away.
The earthquake temporarily halts all thoughts of fleeing though. First things first, he has to not die in the earthquake. But then he glances towards Majorie, before scrambling up to his feet. He falls almost immediately, but gets to his feet again, starting to run, away from Majorie. It's slow going, though, and far from the quick escape he hoped for.
Marjorie's mouth gapes a little as she watches her ability do it's work, taking out the bench and the man upon it. She seems struck in that position, palm toward the was-recently-there bench, just staring a little. She doesn't even notice her ability negated currently - she's not using it any more and she's just staring. But the earthquake brings new problems. On the tail-end of that fear, now with the ground shaking, Owain starts screaming again, high-pitched little boy screams.
Marjorie falls to the ground, cushioning herself with her arms and holding her body over her small son's, pressing him close into her chest. She manages to look up again, through her wavy locks of hair now messed up and tousled every which way, to see the running man. Her mouth is still agape.
For a split second, the fear blinks off, and Milton finds himself with fists clenched looming menacingly over…a small boy. What the /hell/ —? But before he can pursue that line of self-questioning at all, the ground starts to shake. An earthquake in New York? Has the world gone /totally/ mad? Perhaps. But the earthquake is real enough that the temblor knocks him off his feet for real this time, leaving him sitting in an undignified position on his ass in the middle of the path.
Earthquake. Brennan's gaze snaps to Nadia, having met her enough to know that the fear he's feeling is likely affecting her as well. THe girls scream, brennan widening his stance and spreading his center of gravity so he can stay upright, negation active and his gaze on the middle eastern woman. "NADIA! Turn it off!" He yells, panic in his voice. Forget that he's negating her, so the moment he does, the young womans ability should turn off.
As the fear halts, Nadia clenches her teeth, at the same time clenching down on her control over her ability, the earthquake slowly stemming and coming toward a halt. Her eyes are on the feeling man who was smiling, however. He did this, she's certain of it. With the ground still rumbling, the woman steps forward, her steps seemingly uneffected by the rumbling of the ground as she reaches toward the fleeing man.
She's raising her hand toward the man when Brennan shouts to her, and the ground suddenly becomes still, as Nadia's ability is negated. Her eyes widen for a moment, before she turns to Brennan, pointing frantically toward the man. "He's getting away! He did whatever just happened! I can stop him!!!" She's not waiting for an answer from Brennan, turning and taking off after the man with a frown on her face.
Barbara would like to do something dramatic to spring into motion, the possible culprit of this madness has seemingly been made evident, but the fear induced earthquake - and the subsequent toppling of her easel - has her rooted firmly in place, at least until it suddenly subsides. The postcognative grits her teeth as she sets the easel right up, looking up as Nadia yells about someone getting away. She grimaces, and then sighs. She's let her take care of the man. She's going to make sure people in the area are okay.
With the earthquake over, and people yelling to stop him, Tim picks up speed. He's no athlete, but he does have long legs, and soon is leaving behind the bench that used to be. He glances over his shoulder, to see who's in pursuit, and while a girl chasing him doesn't worry, there's always the possibility that she'll be joined. and no one likes a mob! At least not the one the mob goes after.
Marjorie is looks about to swing her hand around to try what she did again with someone else - clearly this man wasn't the only problem - but the shaking stops. She remains pressed over her son, who is clinging to his mother. Sniffling, but not crying. Marjorie looks around a little, and then sits up off her son - just a bit.
"Owain? Are you okay? Look at mommy." Owain has no choice but to look up at his mother while she pushes to her knees and seems to check her son for injuries. "I'm fine, mom," He says, sniffling. "I'm fine."
Marjorie looks around, seeing who aroudn her is hurt. She sweeps up to her feet, moving toward the good Doctor and his children. "Doctor! Are you alright?" She asks, looking to each of his children.
Except Marlena. No, someone's beat her to do that. Tears stain his now dirty face, but he's reaching for Marlena. "Are you okay?" He asks, in his buck-toothed childish way.
Milton has barely even noticed the man who had been on the other bench fleeing. He picks himself up off the ground, staring at Brennan and Marjorie. He's trying to make sense in his head of everything that just happened, and although a lot of the figures in the equations don't seem to quite add up, one thing at least is clear to Milton; there's someone else in this vicinity, apart from himself, who is Evolved. And he needs to know who. Needs desperately.
Milton has barely even noticed the man who had been on the other bench fleeing. He picks himself up off the ground, staring at Brennan and Marjorie. He's trying to make sense in his head of everything that just happened, and although a lot of the figures in the equations don't seem to quite add up, one thing at least is clear to Milton; there's someone else in this vicinity, apart from himself, who is Evolved. And he needs to know who. Needs desperately.
"Stop doing what you're doing, Dr. Brennan!" Nadia shouts this over her shoulder, still running as quickly as her legs will carry her, eyes trained on Tim. "I can stop him! I'm fine now, I was just panicked!!!" She's got an irritated look on her face. She's not going to let this one get away. She can't let him keep doing things like this, especially when he's doing it to children.
Of all the people not stopping, Tim is at the head of the list. Crazy people who do crazy things with earth are chasing after him, and he got hit by an invisible brick wall. This was not happy fun time for Tim, and he's running his sadistic little heart out trying to escape. he bowls right into a group of people, knocking one down, stumbling a bit, but he doesn't go down. He does, however, lose a few feet on his lead.
Marjorie nods blindly to Dr. Brennan. He doesn't have to tell her twice - she gets it. "Come on, kids," she says, sinking to her knees and grabbing each child in turn to pull them close. One of the twins calls for Daddy. "He'll be right back. Daddy wanted us to wait here for a second. He'll be back in just a minute. Here, who wants a sucker?" Yes, she calls them suckers.
From her pocket come suckers, and she hands them out. "Everyone sit down, criss-cross-applesauce." Otherwise known as indian-style. "Here, Owain." Owain is handed two lollypops. Shyly, still shaking, he gives one to Marlena. "Here. Oh, you've got dirt on you." Gently, he plucks a twig away from her shoulder that must have been shaken off one of the nearby trees.
Milton comes to a conclusion — whether or not it's a right one he has no way of knowing — and his long thin legs break into a sprint, sending him off after Nadia and Brennan. "Stop! Wait!" he yells after them despairingly.
negations switches to the runner. Folks don't run unless they're guilty. Brennan's in pretty good shape and in runners, and is gaining on Nadia at least. 'Don't kill him" He hopes that the negation on Tim might make him stumble a bit more at the sudden cessation of ones ability. He hears Milton, but doesn't stop, just kicks up his own speed.
As she feels her ability come back to her, Nadia slows slightly, easily weaving her way through the crowd as she raises her hands into the air, eyes narrowed. It's a rather quick effect; the moment he's clear from the people of the crowd, the ground offers another low moan of protest as it awakens beneath Nadia's control. Aiming slightly ahead, she manipulates the earth into parting beneath the sidewalk; the minute Tim's foot hits that portion of sidewalk, the pavement should quite literally buckle beneath his weight, opening into a pit of about ten to fifteen feet deep. She'll have to fix that later.
Brennan's plan is a good one. And it even might have worked, except Tim's ability shut off when Marjorie slammed him with her ability. Nadia's plan works much better though, and there's a scream as Tim falls and splats in the bottom of the pit. Oops, he had that broken leg before he fell, right?
Marjorie watches over her shoulder, concern over her face. There are tracks of tears through her own dirt-makeup now, but she wipes a hand over those, looking back to the children. However, Owain isn't automatically on 'good behavior'. After all, she's his mom. "Mom, what was that?" Marjorie shakes her head, telling him to hush.
"Here, kids, let me help you with those." Marjorie leans forward to help each child with their lolly wrappers. Owain, it seems, is left to entertain Marlena.
"I'm sorry your outfit got dirty," He says, shy as he can. It's like he's dropped an age or two. "It was really pretty though. What…what did you say your name was?"
The sight of the earth opening up to swallow the hapless fugitive at least shows Milton that he's chasing after the right people. Brennan and Nadia. One guy, one dame. One of those two has to be mixed up in this. If not both. He slows down in good time so as not to join Tim down the pit, but not so much that he loses track of the two people he's on the trail of.
Barbara has been too busy going from person to person,s eeing who's okay to keep a close on eye on the chase for the individual responsible for this whole eescapade. She does look in time to see the ground //swallow the apparent culprit up, and she just can't help but shake her head. Sighing, she returns to her efforts. At least he's been caught, and that alleviates most of her worries at the moment.
"Marlena" Mouth full of marbles still, her fingers moving to spell out the name while she takes the sucker from owain, brushing off dirt off her own self while the twins cling close to Marjorie, the crying brought down to sniffles and seeking comfort in the woman whom their father left them in the care of. And candy of course. Candy does pretty good at erasing tears too.
The guy goes down the hole, the sound of him hitting, leaving Brennan wincing as he works to catch up with the hole that just opened up in the ground. 'Nadia" He snaps off. "Bring him up. Now." he's not pleased that she did that. It was unnecessary. He could think of a dozen other things that he would have done with regards to her ability and catching him. He settles his gaze on the probable empath below, keeping him negated.
As she sees her plan work, Nadia Ba'albaki's step slows to a confident stride, the woman making her way up to her freshly created hole in the ground and pulling out her cell phone. At the very least, she got to redeem herself, she hopes. Being a celebrity and being out in public, there's no way people won't point out her involvement in the scene. From there, it's simply guesswork as to who caused the earthquake. At least she might be a hero, now. Or she may have made things worse for herself.
Either way, it's best to face the music and finally let the government know that she can create earthquakes.
Still she can't help but feel a pang of giddiness as she steps up to the edge of the pit, peering down at the wounded Tim. Even though they're probably on the way, she's still going to call the cops in regards to this man. A brief glance is cast toward Brennan, and the ground of the pit slowly raises up, so as not to crush the man in the moving of earth and pavement. He won't be going anywhere with that leg. "It was either this, or risk crushing him. You told me not to kill him. He's not dead. I'm not that good at controlling my ability while I'm on the move." She frowns.
Tim may not be dead, but he is in a lot of pain, clutching his leg and howling. It does look like a bad break, the calf bent obscenely, though the pants hide the worst of it. "My leg! What the fuck! You broke my leg! I'll kill you for this!" he rants, though with that tone of voice, most hearing him will think it's just the ravings of a pain in pain. Only he knows if the threat is a serious one.
Around Marjorie, people are starting to lift their heads, to look around and to wonder. As for Marjorie herself? She's content just to sit with the children - she's gotten the twins to play patty-cake, lips already smeared with sugary spit. Owain seems to be talking to Marlena, as much as he can, while trying to figure out what she says in response.
Marjorie isn't the type of woman to go about leaving the children, but confusion and concern are the entirety of her looks as she gazes off where everyone went a 'runnin' to.
Milton watches Tim rise up from the hole in the ground as though on an ascending elevator. When he comes back into view, Milton's face falls with disappointment. It's not the man who stabbed him, after all; nothing like him. But still, maybe something can yet be salvaged from this. Taking a deep breath, he strides up to Nadia. "You did this. Didn't you?" he says, a little nervous, straightening his hat to give his fingers something to do.
Barbara wrinkles her nose as she watches the events with the injured perpetrator unfold for a moment more, before she returns over to the bench she had bee drawing at. Her landscape, which had been probably another four or five minutes from being done, is now prettty much ruined, and the air of the area has her uneasy and tense, and largely unwilling to stick around. Quickly her things are gathered up, her easel folded, and Barbara's making her way away, not willing to be around when the cops - or worse – arrives.
Brennan is not amused. "And you can be charged with assault with a deadly weapon" It's sharply but quietly spoken to the young woman. "You need to work on your ability and refine it, so that if you pull a stunt like that again or someone uses an ability like that, you are not creating whatever richter earthquake that was" That's the last he'll speak on the matter because up comes the empath and the moment it's safe enough for him to move forward, he's doing such. Leaving Nadia to Milton's mercy
"I'd lay back and wait for the cops if I were you, and be happy that a broken leg is all that you might have gotten for what you just did" If it can be prooved that it was him that did it. Negation never drops, even though the guy is down. His pain might get sent to others, who knows what his ability might do. He trusts that the anti-government woman isn't about to run off with his kids. Or they'd be screaming bloody murder. "Lay back down, let me look at the leg"
Nadia quickly barks the details of the incident into the phone, and the fact that they have a potentially dangerous Evolved immobilized on the ground. Once that's through, she frowns at Tim. "What the good Doctor just said, be thankful this was the worst of it." She doesn't go into gory details about how alternate uses of her ability could have prompted a fair deal more pain than he's in right now, instead turning toward Milton and peering at him thoughtfully. Then, she offers a slow nod, frowning. "Y— yes." She frowns. "The earthquake was me."
She sighs, lifting a hand to rub at her face. Really should have just stayed home today.
"I don't know what you're talking about! I didn't do nothin'! Then that crazy bitch hit me, and there was an earthquake. Any smart person would've run!" Tim yells at Brennan. He's already laying down, unable to stand. Then he looks accusingly at Nadia. "You did this. You're gonna pay for this, bitch. You're insane!" he yells at the terrakinetic.
Milton pulls a frustrated face at the ravings of Tim, which threaten to drown out his own words to Nadia. On which subject, what the hell is he meant to say? For a couple of seconds he considers possibilities, while smiling at her nervously. In the end he goes straight to the point. "It means you're Evolved. So am I. You're the first other one I've met." Which is true, so far as he knows. "Uh… hi," he concludes, shifting from one foot to the other.
"Let the cops determine that buddy, I"m just a doctor" Who's negating you. Milton and Nadia are talking, marjorie has the kids, Brennan's just waiting, for the ambulance now and the cops. "NAdia, you and your friend help keep folks back, make sure the cops knows where to come and the ambulance too okay?"
The Face of Registration frowns at Tim, opening her mouth as if to say something, before thinking better of it. Nadia instead shakes her head, rolling her eyes at Tim. She won't give him any ammo. She turns to Milton, frowning. Her voice is low when she speaks. "I'm also the woman who was on the Registration commercials, in magazines, on television…work for the Department of Evolved Affairs as their pretty face?" Her words come off a bit snappier than she intends, and she sighs, rubbing her face. "Sorry, sorry…stressed. Yes. I'm an Evolved." She takes a few steps away from Tim, not too worried about the man with the broken leg now.
Milton's pale face flushes pink. /Of course/. How could he not have recognised her…? "I… hell yes! Of course you are! I-I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bother you…" He grinds to a halt, running completely out of words, as the sound of police sirens starts to echo around the park.
"Cops? She nearly fucking killed me!" Tim shouts at Brennan. "I'll tell the cops that too! I've got witnesses!" Someone's more than a little ticked off. And defensive. Since he did start the whole thing. Luckily, it doesn't take too long for the cops to arrive and take control of the situation. Tim, of course, will be taken first to a hospital to deal with his injuries. Nadia…is a more complicated situation altogether.
