What happened

There was a ball of feathers sitting on the sidewalk, much in the manner a bored person might be sitting on the sidewalk. Unlike a person, the ball of feathers had to feet to rest in the street, and no head to cradle in its non-existent hands, but the feathers were definitely drooping. They weren't drooping enough to trail in the dirt of the sidewalk and get all dirty, but they weren't primed for flight either.

The ball of feathers rocked a little closer to the edge of the curb when people walked by particularly close, and more than once seemed like it was going to fall off and bounce away down the street. A little curl of smoke rose from the street-side ball of feathers, followed by a brief flare of orange light, as if it were striking a match.

Two eyes opened - on the opposite side of the smoke - and blinked up at passersby. One eye was marble-like, bright and golden with a slit pupil. The other was humanoid, with a hazel iris. Both were looking in different directions.

A pigeon waddled over. "Cooo," it said inquisitively, and pecked at a feather.

There was another burst of flame, this one far more visible and directed with more concentration. The ball of feathers lifted half an inch off the sidewalk and floated a few inches away from the pigeon corpse.

Coo, said Progo.

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Crowley was learning how to get around the City. Certain places didn't move, much if at all, and others seemed to spring up when they were needed. A bit of willpower, and it would take you anywhere you wanted to be.

And Anthony J. Crowley had plenty of willpower.

He was going for a stroll. A rarity for him, a creature who had preferred four wheels before the wheel had even been invented. But it was an amusing way to test this newfound theory. Deliberately not using his own powers, but merely will and desire, he managed to find, in order, a pub, a car dealership, a moviehouse, a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker (to his own amusement, they'd even shown up in a row), and finally, a wine shop.

It wasn't that he couldn't simply manifest whatever vintage he preferred. Crowley knew Aziraphale's unerringly proper morals would insist that a gift be genuine. Crowly lingered outside for a moment, fingers rapping themselves on his chin, as he considered what year and vintage the angel would prefer.

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During Easter Break Max finally got an answer to one of her emails to Jesse that she liked. One that said it was alright to come over. She was in the drug store when she got it buying hair stuff, as it was time for the bi-monthly dying. Her roots had been bothering her again and so instead of sitting in the manor and staring into a mirror Max deiced it would probably be better to actually do something about it.

She put her computer back into her bag, smiling, and with two boxes of dye and peroxide in her hands, she went over to pay for things and then left the store.

Because the necessity of it had been drilled into her mind and because it was faster, Max hailed a cab and took it over to Jesse's apartment. She grinned at the doorman when she walked inside, headed straight over to the elevator and went up. She fumbled around in her bag for the keys during the ride.

It didn't phase her much when she found that Jesse wasn't home. Not after she thought about it at least. He must've thought that she was still in school this week. It was 2:15 now and Max didn't usually get out of school until 3:15. He'd be home by then, she figured. She dropped her purse on the couch, that way he'd know she was there when he got back.

Didn't take her long to decide what to do. Max took her plastic shopping bag and made her way into the bathroom. She'd been dying her hair for a few years now and knew how to do it without making a mess, even in a bathroom like this. She found some older towels and laid them out on the ground before she started mixing up the dye, pulled of her shirt and wet her hair with the shower hose. Pulling on the plastic gloves that came with the kit, Max took the tub of dye and put it up on one of the elevated counters where she could reach it and then after picking up the brush and dipping it in, she started dying.

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Proginoskes never had any doubts about how odd he looked in terms of life on Earth: there was no species that quite resembled a giant ball of wings with more eyes than any creature ever needed. Birds came close, but no birds ever breathed fire. He'd taken to wandering around invisibly, just to save himself the trouble of dealing with people staring at him. It was a very uncomfortable and off-putting thing to put up with, even if he did have a habit of staring, himself.

There was a certain element of chaos in the City that hadn't been there before. He didn't quite understand it - surely, without all of the metallic distractions humans had made for themselves, they could actually try and think about what they were, and what they should be doing.

Progo was a bit ruffled. It was the only explanation for why he suddenly materialized inside what appeared to be a bar. It was certainly crowded. Alcohol seemed to be popular when things went badly. One moment, he was hovering around next to the bartender, staring at the variety of bottles lining the wall and taking in all of the colors.

Then someone was pointing at him, and then he realized he wasn't invisible.

The pointing and staring was followed by a moment of shocked silence, and then, probably, the realization that he was actually a real creature. Then the screaming started, and the panic. The bartender tried to smack Proginoskes with a baseball bat, but a wild, instinct-driven burst of flame took care of that. People ran out into the street. A few dropped to their knees and started praying, drunkenly. Most simply fled, babbling things about angels and demons and dragons.

Inside the bar, Proginoskes drifted over the barstools, feeling rather smugly proud of himself, despite the trouble he caused.

Silly humans.

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The first thought Kyle had when he felt the earth shake was, 'Damn. There aren't any signs up about how to handle earthquakes. We never had earthquake drills'. Then he looked at his light board which had fallen off of his desk smashed to the floor, and thought, 'Fuck.'

Then he saw the smoke.

That was when he finally thought to stand up and look away from his desk. How were his coworkers handling the impromptu earthquake. Or whatever it was. They weren't handling it very well at all, actually. For all he could see, they were running through the resulting smoke like chickens with their heads cut off. Kyle couldn't really blame them; they probably weren't used to stuff like this. Hell, he wasn't even completely used to stuff like this.

The art department for The City's newspaper was on one of the lower floors, so when Kyle finally got his wits together and started yelling and ushering people out of the doors, he could at least have some comfort in knowing they all had a good chance of getting out safely. No one seemed to notice when he backed away from the stairwell and ran back into the main area of the floor where all the artists had their desks set up.

He moved slowly through the smoke, making sure no one else was trapped in the room and once he was relatively sure, he raised his hand. A green gas mask covered his face, and Kyle took a deep breath, hoping that he hadn't already inhaled too much smoke. Next he created a lantern, which shined brightly through the smoke, allowing him to move quickly to the large windows.

Where was the smoke coming from? Kyle wasn't immediately sure, but he was definitely leaning more towards an explosion now. He just didn't know from where. Looking out of the windows, he could see smoke pouring from some of the lowers floors as well, and a slightly grey tinge in the air above make him think that something had to going on on the higher floors as well. Across the street people were pouring out of another office building and onto the street, pointing up at both buildings. Grey smoke was pouring from their windows as well.

The building shook again, and this time Kyle could hear an explosion coming from upstairs. It was time to get out.

Kyle backed away from the window, back into the smoke where he was sure no one would be able to see him as a green glow engulfed his body. When it died down, he was suited up completely, mask included. He had to help somehow.

Though, as he started breaking through the window so that he could fly out, Kyle couldn't help but hope that some of the other heroes in this place had heard the explosions. Because he was pretty damn sure that alone he wasn't going to be much good.

OOC: Just a note, as stated before, everyone can participate in this, whether your character wants to be a bystander or wants to try to rescue people or even wants to try and make the situation worse. Any of those options is cool! NPCs may even come and interact with your characters.

Don't worry. Something will come of this. So yes. Post!

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Jesse waited until he was beyond the gates of Wayne Manor before stopping and pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, and happily lighting one up. The smoke filled his lungs and he decided to take a moment to look at the day and the way it was shaping up.

Max might be a little upset that he hadn't come back upstairs to say goodbye, but there was too much to be done with her, and she needed to rest up for it. She'd understand. Just to be sure, he pulled out his little computer.

To: MGibbons@Thecity.net
From: JCuster@Thecity.net

Sorry I didn't say goodbye, baby girl, but you need rest. Send me a message later when everything's done and over with to let me know you're okay.

Love you,
Jesse

He tucked it back in his pocket and took a breath.

There'd been no intention to confront Bruce and say the things that'd been on his mind, but he'd done it. And it had gained Max an apology. Jesse didn't feel any better toward the man on a whole, and in some areas found himself even more doubtful, but it seemed like it would make Max's situation better. If she could remain here and happy, then it would be one less thing to have to worry about.

Jesse walked slowly back in the direction of the hotel, with no intention of calling a cab.

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No savioring for Max today. No waiting for her outside of the school. That gave him the entire day to wander the city by himself. When a man isn't paying attention to the outside world, and is considering his own thoughts, he can end up just about anywhere.

It occured to Jesse that he had no idea where he was, or how far he'd walked. It certainly wasn't a part of The City that he'd ever seen before. He laughed to himself and turned around, but the way behind him didn't look any more familiar than what was in front of him.

Oh well.

He shrugged and continued, might as well explore some while he was here. Who knew, maybe he'd find something really interesting, or unusual.

Jesse paused at the mouth of an alley to pack his cigarettes and light one up.
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Proginoskes.

A great cry. A tempest of wind. A lightning flash of fire across the cold, breaking, burning the cold and pain.

Proginoskes Xing.

Wings. All the wings. Stretched to their fullest span. Eyes. All the eyes opening and closing, opening, dimming –

Oh, no –

Going out –

No –

Flame. Smoke. Feathers flying. Proginoskes flinging his great cherubic self into the void of the Echthroi who were Xing Mr. Jenkins and Calvin and Meg – *
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