Chaos Precip

The air is still and quiet. Business as usual is going on as usual, and then... there's a flash, and a soft pop, and a pink portal opens up in midair and a man comes falling through.

Bill is unceremoniously dumped on his ass, hitting the ground with a hard 'oof'.

He sits up and has a look around.

"... Clarice?"

Someone sneezed while she was teleporting them, and now Bill finds himself in a strange place without his ride to get back to where he was, or to get to where they were going.

Great.

Shibuya isn't a big town, and it's not a powerful town. It's not a centre of commerce, because it only has one really saleable item: cloth. The people there make enough to eat, and buy what they can't make. Enough stay that it's a thriving town, enough leave that word of their cloth has spread around.

And right now it's completely under siege. There are about two hundred people boarded up in the mayor's house-slash-offices, with all the food they could grab and all the weapons they could find. The post-office is in the same building, so that's where they've got cleared out for people who are coming in to help.

There is nothing so sad as a highly fashionable person in disarray, and Kitanji Megumi is one of those poor souls. Four days ago he was perfectly coiffed from the smooth long hair to the points of his shirts down to spit-shined shoes. Now? The coat has been passed off to a little girl who ran to safety wearing nothing but a nightshirt, his shirt to someone else, his trousers are stained with blood and spilled food, and his hair is in the sloppiest ponytail it's ever been in, and crackling with electricity. His voice, however, is still even and calming as he talks to his people.

Outside the infected people stagger around feeding and attempting to get in, stymied by the lightning rods surrounding the mayoral house, and static hops between them, arcing white and violent whenever something gets too close. That's what has kept Kitangji's people safe, and that's what has him worn to a gaunt shadow. He's a Master, not an Adept, and four days of continual working has drained him.

"Thank you for coming." he said to each person, "I am not a fighter, I have to trust you each to know how you can best help."

Lots of things come across Bill's desk at the station (when he's at the station, anyways) but the letter he receives from some town he's never heard of is a shocker, and the picture that comes with it makes his spine freeze and jaw drop.

He's quick to jot out a reply and send it out, then rushes off to find Clarice.

Kitanji Megumi-

We have had that problem here in Wheelsy and I shall work quick to get you all some help.

They're a kind of parasite, and you'll want to be on the lookout for the main guy controlling them. They're all connected, so what one knows they all know, but it also means if you can find the head you can take out the whole network.

I suggest staying put if you can, help is on the way.

-Sheriff Pardy

And if you haven't figured it out already, don't let them in your mouth.

Sheriff Pardy,

I am given to understand, based on the notification recently sent out by the Organization, that you have some experience with matters of the Critter kind, specifically involving mind controlling slugs.

Enclosed please find a drawing of one of the Critters which has been bothering my town, and please get back to me as soon as possible with whatever information or assistance you might be able to gather.

My town is primarily made up of Aligned with only one Master (myself, Lightning) and so we are currently barricaded in a few buildings.

Thank you very much.

~ Kitanji Megumi

( I wasn't hummin'. )

They'd been in Wheelsy a lot longer than Batou liked, but they'd needed to give the nice shop lady time to make up Remy's new wardrobe. The last of the clothing had been finished this morning and tucked into a long trunk that now lived under Remy's cot in the truck. In general he thought he'd done a pretty good job adjusting his truck and tachikohma for another person. It was cozy now!

Totally cozy.

If anyone called it cramped he was going to fry them.

"Alright, supplies, clothes, tire's fixed....am I forgetting anything? Damn it, probably..."

Things have been pretty busy lately. A lot of strangers in town and things going on; getting Wheelsy set up for the Org and trying to figure out what was going on with the one's who'd been frozen, plus all the regular day things that Bill deals with, it adds up to a lot.

And so, he's taking a bit of a break. Leaving Bors in charge, Bill heads up to the lake for a bit of time away from all the chaos and such.

Stretched out on the bank with his back against a tree, Bill has bottle resting against his hip and a line in the water.

Nothing's biting, but that's alright. The quiet is nice and he might just have himself a nap out here.

It's been one heck of a long day and Bill comes into his kitchen looking for something to drink and a quick bite to eat before he settles in for the evening.

Things have been going okay in town, but sometimes the job just gets tiring.

It's hot, it's muggy, and Bill Pardy is pissed as hell as he and Bors stand along the roadside on horseback.

The two dismount, and Bill hands his reins off to Bors, who leads the lightening manes to a tree to tie them up.

Looking up and down the deserted stretch of road, Bill sighs.

"Why the hell am I out here?"

"'Cause you popped off to the mayor while he was already reamin' you," Bors answers matter-of-factly.

"That asshole's tryin' t'tell me how t'do my job? Screw him."

Brushing his hands off, Bors walks back over to Bill.

"M'not sayin' you was wrong, I'm just sayin' that's why we're out 'ere."

Throwing Bors a dirty look, Bill crosses the road.

"Lemme know if we get any traffic," Bill says, finding a spot to sit in the shade, with his back up against a tree.

Bors sits down on a tree stump, watching Bill, and continues to muse.

"'Course, 'e is tellin' you what t'do, sendin' you out here t'pull a checkpoint shift an' all... "

Bill scowls and tugs down the bill of his cap to cover his eyes.

"Shut the hell up, Bors."

Barking a laugh, Bors leans down to pluck a stalk of grass up, sets it in his mouth, and settles in to watch.