Travel Weary (Open)

"Do you know how fast you were going, miss?"

"Not really. There was a speed sign back there that might help. But I didn't have time to read it."

Daylight was ailing on the lone desert road where a black convertible had buried itself into the scrub of an off-road gully. Kiara had survived the crash relatively unharmed. Really it wasn't as bad as it looked and had even been fun at the time. It meant she'd have to walk the rest of her journey, but cresting that last verge, Jump City had been in sight.

"Don't get cute with me. License and registration. Now!"

The police officer looked cross. She assumed he had come to help like those other people who had stopped. The ones who had offered her blankets and something to sip while she got her nerves back.

"License for what?"

"Driver's license! Do you understand a punk like you could have killed someone?"

"Erm. Oh! Sorry, no. I wasn't driving. I can't drive. Sam was. I just asked him for a lift an hour or so ago. I don't know where he's gone, but when he gets back you can ask him then."

Having walked and flown most of the way across California, Kiara had chosen to hitchhike for a while. Most of the motorists had wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe because she was decked out in her shaman outfit. A tribal mask and staff, alongside adornments of jewellery and feathers. But one car had pulled over. The driver, Sam, was about her age. He'd been glad to offer her a ride. Again - probably because she was in her shaman outfit. Crop-top and short shorts.

"So 'Sam' was driving was he?" A subtle rise in tone indicated the officer did not believe her tale.

"Yes. I'm happy he wasn't hurt, but he ran off quick when he drove the car into that ditch. He didn't mention why. Maybe he went to tell his dad. He said it was his dad's car. They'll probably want it back."

"They probably will. Miss, do you have any identification on you?"

Kiara sighed, people the world over always wanted her to prove who she was. She just wasn't interested in doing so, "No. But my name is Kiara Tzul. I am a shaman from Belize. I am not sure how far that is from here. But it is back beyond the great long fence."

"Long fence?"

"Yes. That long fence that runs all the way from shore to mountain in the south. The one with men patrolling with guns."

The officer's eyes widened, "Oh. That fence."

She felt like she was finally getting somewhere, "You know it?"

"I know it. And how did you get passed that fence without identification?"

"I flew."

She couldn't read his expression then. It was something dark and foreboding. Illegal immigration was a federal crime. The officer was pondering who now had to get involved, "Wait here. I have to call some people."

"Okay. But could you hurry? I wanted to make the city today."

"Don't worry. I think I can arrange to have someone pick you up..." At least he was finally being helpful.

Weird things seemed to be the norm at the Jump City police department. A strange girl had been picked up by a highway officer outside the city, and some state troopers were bringing her in. But that was by no means the most important, or by that means odd thing happening at the little building of justice that day. Today was the day a recently captured metahuman criminal known as "Mr. Pollen." was set to be transferred to Iron Heights Penitentiary.

A man with the ability to create and control plants. Boy, did that sound familiar.

But either way, he wasn't going anywhere. The cuffs he was wearing would dampen his abilities. As the officers brought him through the main precinct, they passed a girl being escorted in by some state troopers. Boy was her outfit odd. But to him, the most important element in the room was the geranium on one of the office workers desks. Sure his powers were dampened, meaning he couldn't generate any of his beloved plants, but he could probably make that geranium move about if he concentrated.

The officers put him into a simple interrogation room. When the main prison transport with the armed guards arrived, everything would be under control. Unfortunately, they were running a little late. Something about rush hour traffic. As such, the officers needed to be on their guard in these last few minutes before the transport arrived. Make sure nobody got close to the interrogation room. They were so busy looking around at eye level that they didn't notice the tiny plant wriggling along the floor and under the door.

The men in the surveillance room only had time to see the cuffs come off for a second or two before a giant green... something... walloped the security camera. They had barely had time to push the alarm button before loud crashes could be heard from outside, like a door being torn off it's hinges.

Mr. Pollen was breaking out.

From the highway a cruiser arrived to take Kiara away. The two troopers had her reiterate her claims for their own benefit before doing so. She was beginning to understand that she was in some trouble. The uniformed men were talking to her like a minor, using words that (while heard) she had not dwelt upon the meaning of. Immigration? She hadn't immigrated. At least she didn't think so. She had just walked north. She didn't need permission to do that - surely?

"Is there anyone we can contact? Your family?"

"My dad, I guess."

"Do you have a number for him?"

"Not one that I remember. We agreed he'd phone me."

"Where is your phone?"

"I lost it somewhere."

"Where?"

"Somewhere lost."

Gazing out the window, the shaman looked up. She'd known big cities before. Yet the breadth and scale of what she witnessed now would catch in her memory. So terrestrial and yet so aweing. They had driven for a good forty minutes before arriving at their destination. A million things were happening at once. And so little had to do with her. Just this one pressing situation.

Before being brought to a cell, Kiara had been told many things. Her 'rights', her 'responsibilities', her 'penalties'. Apparently illegal thingying carried a hefty fine. But she had to be 'convicted' first, whatever that meant. They wanted to know if she had legal counsel. They wanted to be absolutely sure she didn't own a visa.

"I don't. Is that the problem? Maybe I can borrow yours?" They wouldn't let her.

She protested with them when she understood. She claimed to have visited many countries without recourse before. That another visit caused no harm. All the condescending, uniformed men replied was that if she had done what she claimed, then those visits too were illegal.

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse."

Kiara blinked, "Of course it is. There are many transgressions we commit every day that we do not know. Imagine I made a law that punished anyone with death if they read it. Would ignorance be an excuse then?"

She was about ready to walk out the door. The people here were rude and highly unreasonable. She wasn't even kept entertained. Once the conversation had proven fruitless the troopers had just left. She was sat in a small cell, wondering where they had taken her possessions, and how much longer she should be patient before leaving was no longer impolite.

The station wasn't unentertaining for long.

The crash of a thick, wooden door tearing off its hinges brought most of the precinct to a pause. The nearest officers went for their weapons, two had already been hurled aside. The expectant fire-fight did not emerge as the prowling plant creature sunk back into the shadows of the doorway.

Suddenly there was a slight vacuum in the room. Followed by an almighty exhale. The mutated geranium had discharge what Mr. Pollen was infamous for. It had spluttered forth a thick cloud of pollen-heavy air. The adjoining rooms were quickly clogged with weightless yellow specs, which reduced visibility, stuck onto clothing, and choked people's airways.

For the majority, it was little more than irritating. Yet for the hay-fever sufferers, for the carriers of minor medical quibbles, it began to induce full blown asthma attacks. Suddenly the police had far more casualties than they cared to leave around a potential fire-fight.

"Take them! Pull back! We have him surrounded anyway. There's nowhere he can go. We'll have him yet."

The buzzing sensation Harmon felt as every police dispatch line in the area lit up was impossible to ignore. Harmon was on his way to pick up some groceries when he he picked up the feed. Fortunately, the department in question was only a block away. Ducking behind a fenced off little backlot, Harmon's backpack sprang to life, wrapping itself around him in a flurry of metal. Now was the time for Hotwire to kick into gear.

As he ran towards the danger zone, he pulled up everything he could. Camera feeds, criminal records, ect.  From preliminary reports, this "Mr. Pollen" was rooting down in the police department. That would be odd if her were attempting a breakout. Maybe his goal was to get himself some hostages so he could gain safe passage?

Either way, the file would seem to suggest that his plant mutations often generated high levels of highly toxic pollen spores. The data he was getting suggested that they were only lethal if inhaled. "Great. So all I need is make a makeshift gasmask." He said running past a few buildings. A couple AC units fell apart as he ran past an apartment complex, the parts whirling around his hands. A couple traffic cams also would fly to him. Visibility would be low, so putting in a video interface would be incredibly useful. As he got to the precinct, the mask was complete. He simply lifted it over his head before looking on at a few choking officers leaving the building.

The paramedics would have to handle them. Hotwire was the best first line of defense against Mr. Pollen. "Going in..." He said rushing forward. The automatic door was pretty busted up, but his powers let him force them for a couple seconds to let him inside.

It had gotten cloudy all of a sudden. Kiara had never seen so much pollen in one area, let alone inside. In their rush to evacuate, the police had neglected the prisoners in the cells. These weren't a collection of juvie-hardened career criminals, but an unfortunate rabble of drunk drivers and domestic abuse cases. One or two began to call out in alarm, demanding to be let out. No one heard them.

She started to wonder if this was usual.

The cell itself was a ten by ten closet with a flat bench in the far corner you could sit or lie down on. The door was solid except for a small three-barred window at about head height. When she tried it, Kiara was surprised to find it locked. Maybe those troopers had actually been serious about arresting her!

Benighted puffed futilely at the encroaching pollen. She then bent to inspect the lock. Lock and keys had a truly unique relationship. They were literally made for each other. One completed the other. She theorised that such items must share a bond. Not that she had seen one before, but hey. Her astral sight didn't know everything. Kiara fused a portion of her soul to the lock. Her plan was to tap into whatever link it shared with the key, thus pulling the key towards her.

Nothing happened. Not every ridiculous idea Kiara had was reality.

The shouting of her neighbours had gone quiet. Without warning the door she was crouched before was ripped off its hinges. Kiara fell backwards. At the exit was an eight foot plant monstrosity. Or at least she assumed it was a plant. She'd never seen one quite like it. She supposed this is where the pollen had come from. They grew big here in America.

The plant moved back on spongey tendrils, allowing a man to step forward. The hooded look of his eyes made him appear at once haunted and shady. He had tattoos carved into his cheeks of a druidic nature, yet his clothes were clearly contemporary (shirt sleeves and cargo pants).

"You. Are those ferns you're wearing?"

Kiara was dumbstruck for a moment before answering, "Err. Yes. Tiger fern I think."

"That's Nephrolepis exaltata." Mr Pollen corrected, before gesturing at the monster beside him, "Geranium viscosissimum."

"Um..."

"Do you have more?"

"Yes. Well. I did. They took them off me."

Mr Pollen brightened. He might have stumbled upon a like-minded soul, "Then you will accompany me to the evidence locker."

Benighted didn't feel like she had a say in that. But at least with this man's assistance she could leave. She coughed once to clear her airways of pollen before nodding.

Hotwire was able to breathe the air somewhat well. Air filtering in through a gasmask isn't going to be the most refreshing spring breeze, but it would suffice to keep him going.He pressed himself against a wall. Now that he was inside, he could formulate a plan. Mr. Pollen's abilities stemmed from being able to mutate plant life into fearsome beasts. It's highly unlikely he could have escaped without one.

Either way, he would need weapons. But what to use in a situation like this...

"Hmmmm..."


Ceiling Fans


Sliding Door


Security Camera


Power Junction Box


"Got it..."


All the objects he had brought up in his mind came apart in a flurry of metal and wires. Within moments, they had formed themselves around his forearms... two rapidly spinning metal fanblades. They would do for makeshift saws.


According to the path of destroyed cameras and tripped alarms, Pollen was heading towards the evidence lockers. While he was being transported to Iron Heights today, his outfit wouldn't be transferred to state police lockup until the end of the month. That must have been why he was heading that way. I mean, what other reason could there be?

Although one other thing struck Hotwire as odd as he slunk his way towards the evidence lockers. There was another cell whose door wasn't responding. That probably meant that Pollen had wrecked that one too. Maybe he had taken a hostage...

As he neared the corner to the hallway in which the lockers lined the walls, Hotwire pulled into a corner. There he was... Mr. Pollen. So far it looked like he hadn't spotted Hotwire. Good. That was good because he did indeed have a Hostage. A girl about Hotwire's age... and yeah, that appears to be what was in the file for the girl who occupied that cell. One mystery solved at least. The other mystery to be solved was "What on earth is that monstrosity looming over them?"

I mean, clearly it was one of Mr. Pollen's plant mutates, but what kind of plant did he manipulate to create it? If Hotwire could figure that out, maybe he'd have some kind of shot. Well whatever he did, he'd have to do it fast, and presumably before he lost the element of surprise...

As Mr. Pollen and Kiara made their way to the evidence locker, a rather large figure made its way out from around the corner. Followed by another. And another. And another. Their fur was dark, albeit red in some places. They filed in, hissing and spitting at the plant creature until 20 total filled the hallway, and they were followed by a red haired woman in a long coat. She had a lit cigarette in one hand, twirling it between her fingers gingerly.

Seriously, pollen? Who uses pollen as their grand plan?!

Summer sighed and took a drag of her cigarette before returning it to its twirling, she looked around the hallway. This was the only way to the evidence locker, and of course the other officers were either choking on the floors above or panicking on the ones below. Idiots. "Officer Summer Avalon." The Irish woman said plainly. "Return to your cell immediately. I regret to inform you that I am authorized to use lethal force." She spoke calmly and opened her jacket slightly, revealing a small, standard issue police handgun at her side.

"And that'd be the least of your concerns." She noticed Kiara after the threat and blinked, this was who she'd heard about over the radio, right? Average height female, dark skin, wearing plants. That sounded about right. The one who the police hadn't believed simply because she flew here.

Really, you'd think they'd spent only a moment in Jump City to not believe that story. Like, come on. Welcome to the 21st century my guy. "Kid, you may want to back out of this. This one isn't exactly the generous sort."

((OOC: They did believe her. That's the problem. She's broken immigration law.))

There was plenty Kiara hadn't understood about this situation. She wondered what authority this man of plants had to nay-say the uniform wearing people who'd brought her here. He was disparaging of their influence. And Kiara had no nature to inquire further. Where he led she followed. If she needed to know more, it would reveal itself. No need to ask about lives which might not concern you.

Yet as they neared their destination they were finally confronted. Kiara by now had a hand to her face to block out the worst of the pollen. Mr. Pollen himself appeared immune to its effects. A woman ahead of them challenged their progress. She was accompanied by a pack of house cats much larger than Kiara had ever seen.

What confused her most was the warning, "He isn't... generous? But he's taking me to my stuff. I worked very hard on my spirit mask." It would be a burden to leave her meagre possessions behind. And the man had been thoughtful in releasing her.

Pollen himself stood stoic, "I'm sorry to inform you that I am also authorised to use lethal force. Do not despair. Your body will be converted into mulch, which in turn will feed the generation of tomorrow." And with that Mr. Pollen extended his influence to the fronds adorning Kiara's costume.

"Hey!" The greenery detached itself from their fastenings and began to morph. They took on the countenance of tigers. Each jagged edge of frond sharpened into a slashing blade. They were easily as big as the familiar duplicates. Just by impacting a target awkwardly they could potentially skewer and shred it to pieces.

"Onwards." The mass of plants advanced, their master in step behind them.

So Hotwire wasn't the only one moving in. That officer he had met a couple days prior was here as well, and she appeared to be packing metahuman powers. Hotwire couldn't totally recall the precedent for enhanced police officers, and wasn't sure they were totally on the level. But at this point he wasn't complaining.

Those things flanking the officer could probably take on the smaller frond beasts. But that larger monster would be a problem. That's where Hotwire's weed-whacking service came into play.

"And downwards." Hotwire said launching himself at the geranium monster. With a well aimed swipe, he cut a gash in one it's arms. As he passed behind it, he spun around and brought his two blades down. One finished cutting it's arm off, the other made a nifty cut in it's back. Well there went the element of surprise. Hopefully he could improv a way through the rest of this.

A girl wearing a leather jacket, a dark red tank top, black faded boot cut jeans and black and red plad knee which converse chucks on, and wore the red tinted sunglasses that she lowered a bit with two fingers as she looked over them with her black and red eyes with slits for pupils as she looked at the police station from across the street. "......." She then pushed them back up and started to walk off and away from it. "**** that ****...."

[Exit]

((OOC: Moooving on.))

The tiger ferns acted like a phalanx of Roman soldiers, piercing into the packed mass ahead of them with bladed furry. While not immediate, this savagery could not be endured and pushed the blockading foe further back along the hallway, a manic sound of cat hisses leading in its wake. But Mr. Pollen could not afford to relax yet.

He turned on his heel in surprise as the first limb of his gargantuan geranium was severed. Under attack from two sides. So be it. He ignored the questions of the girl and dashed forward to the evidence locker. She would soon succumb to the poison's lethal qualities anyway, if she didn't prove herself. It may have been slow acting, but the poison was there. Hotwire had been right to bring an air filter.

Meanwhile the geranium swung wildly at Hotwire, missed, and put a hefty dent in the concrete wall. It next appeared to corkscrew, relying on its mildly elastic properties, and then released a flail of strikes at its attacker using the one good limb and severed ends of the destroyed one. This attack narrowly missed Kiara, forcing her back onto her keister. Now she really didn't know what was going on.

"Hey! HEY!" She shouted down the hallway to where Hotwire fought the burly shrub, "I don't mean to butt in. But I'm starting to think that plant isn't natural! Would you like me to ask that nature guy to turn it back?" If it was causing trouble then clearly it was druid man's responsibility. Of course Kiara realised she might have misread the entire situation. The orange-haired chainsaw-wielder might have been a gardener. Stranger things had happened.

Hotwire narrowly sidestepped the Geranium's attempt at lashing out. He was about to thrust his spinning blade back into it when the girl he had gone in to save yelled for him. He turned his head for a moment, just enough time for the geraniums to jump on top of him. Pinning him to the ground. With a crunch as one of the blades broke his fall... and the blade itself. Now he was down to just one weapon. Great. And if that wasn't bad enough, this girl decided she would use her... absolutely marvelous timing... to state the absolute obvious.

"You don't say..." He said before the creatures petal-jaws unhinged to roar at him. Unfortunately, with his arm pinned down, hotwire couldn't swing that blade safely without the risk of lopping off his own appendages. If he wanted to walk out of here with his ability to have children still intact, he'd have to come up with something else. With a glow in his eyes, Hotwire did just that.

Lighting Fixture

The fixture came crashing down on the beast, the wiring still leading into the ceiling. Good. That meant power was still flowing through it.

"Zap Zap."


And from there, Hotwire gained a newfound appreciation for fried vegetables. He'd have to remember to thank his mom next time she made those Spinach Ravioli. From there, Hotwire just sort of rolled the seared creature off of him. After scrambling to his feet, the girl politiley added that maybe they should just "ask the nature guy to turn them back." 

Brilliant. Why hadn't he thought of that? Oh that's right... because it was a stupid idea. Who even was this girl?

"Trust me, that's not going work. Mr. Pollen's not going to just turn his army back into weeds poking through the cracks in the wall." He said. "And if he gets to his suit, then we're really in trouble. And by we, I mean me. Because you are getting out of here right now." Hotwire said, before realizing the stern look crossing his face wouldn't show through the gasmask.

The light(ning) show had startled Kiara. It was not a sight she was used to seeing. The closest she could approximate was watching lightning strike in reverse as a Thunder Bird drew out the electricity of a nearby city block. Such raw voltage had scarred black the walls it had travelled through. This overgrown plant however had shrivelled up and turned a winter brown. It was also still twitching in what was probably death throes. Should have stayed rooted.

"I can't leave yet. Mr, um, Pollen said he would take me to my stuff. It's been a long day and I'm anxious to depart before those tie-wearing people return. They ask too many questions." Not knowing a thing about Jump City (besides its cell size), Kiara was not keen to wander far from her belongings. She could easily get lost and not find her way back. While her possessions were easily replaceable all, it would be hard going sleeping rough. She at least needed her money.

"Besides, if Mr Pollen can do again what he did to my tribal dress, then he'll want the plants I own. And I suspect now that he might not... appreciate what I've done with them." Kiara was beginning to understand that the plant guy was not an amicable sort. He had an affinity for plants and could bestow upon them great boons. Accelerated growth, dexterity, versatility, and intelligence. Anybody who could do that no doubt had a passion for them. Which made things a little awkward for her.

All the plants in Kiara's kit bag had been crushed, grinded, and emulsified for their chemical extracts. To someone like him, she'd probably 'desecrated' them. Whoops.

"Maybe I..." Kiara suddenly wobbled. She fell forward onto her knees and began to notice a blurring in her vision. The toxins in the pollen were starting to take affect. The shaman looked up confusedly, "I'm sorry, my legs are shaking." This was not her most favourite of days.

Hotwire was absolutely ready to chew her out for her insistence on staying here. With the pollen in the air, she was going to start feeling the effects soon. He put his gloved hand to his face and rubbed his temples. "Now look, we don't have time for-" 


Boy had he spoken too soon. She was already under the influence of the pollen. Of course! She had spent the past 15 minutes standing right next to the guy. No wonder the effects were setting in quicker.


"Oh geez. This is bad. We need to get you some clean breathing air." He said. Unfortunately, the necessary equipment would probably be in the riot armory on the other side of the department. And he didn't have the time to get her there. That left him with the option of giving her his makeshift breathing mask... but then he'd be infected, probably past the point of being able to fight Pollen... This was becoming quite the dilemma. What to do...

Civilians came first. Duh.


"Ok. Remain calm. You've been breathing in highly toxic pollen spores. They could be fatal if we don't get you medical attention." 

Ok. Probably not the best thing to say to a girl you want to "remain calm" but whatever. Hotwire then snapped his fingers. All of a sudden, the clasps on his breathing mask disengaged. With one quick motion, he brought the mask to her face, and reengaged the mask. The air in the mask quickly got scrubbed of any spores, and she would find her breathing becoming... slightly easier. From here on out, she'd be able to easily make out the face of the red head trying to help her.


"Just take deep breaths." He said helping her to her feet, and leaning her against him. "And we'll get you out of here." He said, starting to walk her towards the exit.

Elsewhere the fearsome foliator had reached his goal unimpeded. Not much could stand in the way of the determined man and he came into a room of sterile grey lockers. The doors rolled back on wheels while he stepped inside, giving only a brief backwards glance before starting to search. He didn't open each container - there was no need, Mr. Pollen could feel when he was close to nature. He paused at a sensation and concentrated his power. The encoded locker door became dented from the inside. At a second impact it flew off its hinges and collided with the far wall.

A thick sturdy vine stretched out from inside. Mr. Pollen pulled it clear and took out his suit. It was a thick mat of moss, lichen, and netted leaves with spiked sections over the arms, legs, and shoulders made of a tough wood. Vines curled around the suit yet as he went to put it on, Mr. Pollen coughed and stumbled.

"Blast. I thought I'd have longer." The pollen was effecting him too. He hurried putting on his suit and the small vines at the base of the neck extended over his face to match his druid mark. A dome of what appeared to be water formed over his head. At this Mr. Pollen started breathing easier. It was a ventilating liquid brimming with helpful nutrients. He was now fully immune to his own pollen.

The villain then moved to search for the girl's possessions.

---

Hotwire and Kiara would make it outside. She was breathing much easier now thanks to the mask. It was embarrassing to be so helpless, but the shaman was beginning to feel like herself again. If Hotwire hadn't come along she could have passed out. The spores must have done this to her. She knew of many plants that could adversely effect humans. This must have suffocated her airways. When Hotwire got her to the front steps she would indicated that she needed to rest, coming to sit on the stairs.

Coming the other way were a number of policemen kitted out in riot gear. They didn't all have gas masks, some had wet cloths tied behind their necks. They paused at the late evacuees and asked a question Kiara ignored.

After a few moments Kiara would remove her gas mask and pass it back to Hotwire, "Thank you. I'm sorry if I was being stupid or slow. He must be a dangerous man, yes?" Her legs were still useless but her breathing was no longer laboured.