1015/Exalted Legwork

Exalted Legwork
Date of Scene:	23 November 2014
Location:	Brockton Bay
Synopsis:	Bitter Medicine seeks out the enigmatic Scion, searching for answers.
Cast of Characters:	554, 569

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Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Bitter Medicine is here on business. Not his /usual/ business, which is likely a relief for criminals and Brockton Bay's structural integrity alike. He arrives at the PRT headquarters in a Union-issued police cruiser, a Crown Vic that blends in with the cityscape rather nicely. It has the added benefit of transmitting a Union IFF signature, which is no doubt picked up by the Tinker-made protection of the PRT's headquarters before Bitter even mangles his parking job. These things take some getting used to.

     The Exalt, still dressed in his Regulator uniform--i.e., looking like he's a Russian officer on the Western Front--enters the PRT and heads to the front desk. Hands clasped behind his back, he announces his presence and makes his demand simultaneously. "I need information."

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     The Protectorate is still recovering. Brockton Bay is still recovering. The effects of Leviathan's attack can still be seen from the Protectorate headquarters.

     Perhaps with the warning from the IFF, Miss Militia - the Protectorate's new commander in the wake of the Armsmaster incident - is waiting at the front desk. "On what?" She's in full costume - green fatigues, American flag scarf around her face, pair of pistols at her hip.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Ready to assist--excellent. "Scion," Bitter Medicine says simply. "I have... suspicions about his loyalties." If Armsmaster has told Miss Militia anything about Bitter Medicine, that statement might be concerning. "I need his location. For questioning."

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     Given that one can only see Miss Militia's eyes above the scarf, her expression is hard to read. "You work with Armsmaster, so, I'm not going to ask if you're serious." She leans over and taps a finger against a computer terminal. "Dragon, I need an update on Scion's present location."

     "One moment," comes back Dragon's Canadian accent. "Scotland, presently. It looks like he's helping out with some flooding. Exact co-ordinates are as follows..."

     Dragon rattles off a series of numbers.

     "I hope you have a way of getting over there," Miss Militia states.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     "Not presently. But I have a need to be there." He rolls his neck. Pop-pop-pop. "I can see to my own transportation, if you're obligated to deny resources to me." He arches a brow. "Is that the case?"

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     "Protectorate standing orders are not to interfere with Scion or his movements," Miss Militia replies. "I'm sorry. Even if we could, we don't have any teleporters presently on hand."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     "No need to apologize. His location is more than enough."

     With that, Bitter Medicine leaves. Now, about that transportation--it's time to do some legwork. Luckily, he has just the charms and just the skills to get that done. Bitter Medicine consults the nearest payphone for its phone directory. Amidst much graffiti and rude drawings, he discovers the location of the nearest airfield.

     His best bet, according to the tropes of the media known as 'movies,' is to find a small business owner in possession of an aircraft, usually one of dubious build quality, who will agree to help him for a sufficient amount of currency. Currency he has. A plane, he does not.

     The Crown Vic pulls into the airfield, and the Exalt immediately begins looking for the most suspect aircraft. He slips on his mask--a simple thing, but one which, through its iconic simplicity, changes his appearance from 'jackbooted goon' to 'dark superhero.' He waits near the plane for the pilot. Upon meeting this sufficiently dodgy individual, Bitter Medicine presents him with three things: his demand, his money and his status as a 'member of the PRT.'

     We're going to Scotland, boys.

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     It's easy enough to find Scion in Scotland.

     The tall, golden man is hovering above the Tay. The weather is cold, below five degrees celcius, and the sky is dark and pouring with rain. Lightning flashes, but Scion's soft, golden glow is almost reassuring. He hovers above the flooding river, which has broken its banks and turned the river into a dangerous torrent, with his hands raised - from his palms come bright beams of golden light and where those beams touch the water, the raging floodwaters become still and tranquil. Suddenly, he's freezing the water where it might damage houses or risk loss of life and then he's back to 'calming' the waves.

     And all of it seems effortless.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     No cabbie in his right mind would head towards a flood. So, Bitter Medicine has to walk, but physical exertion is hardly any trouble for even the frailest Exalt. Rain. It was present during his first encounter with Scion, and it's present again. Where Scion is radiant and tranquil, Bitter Medicine is gloomy and brooding--he is not evil, but rather, a natural fact of reality. Light creates shadows.

     "Scion," he calls over the din of the rainwater. "I'm here to assist. And for other reasons." First and foremost, the Exalt activates his First Perception Augmentation, boosting his senses beyond the pale of mortal capacity. Are there any lives in imminent danger? Anyone struggling to swim?

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     If Scion hears Bitter Medicine - which is almost certain, going by what the Protectorate says about him - he makes no response. The wind barely moves his long, flowing, golden hair.

     Still, no one seems to be in danger. No one's in danger, no one is struggling in the midst of the flood, but still...

     It doesn't seem right, but...

     Scion is radiating sadness.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Bitter Medicine appears a thug. Many an Autochthonian, many an /Elite,/ has mistaken his bluntness for stupidity. His directness is not indicative of a lack of intelligence.

     He leaps to higher ground, that he might get a better look at the hero. His body language suggests sadness, but he has to be sure--yes. Yes. But why? "Leviathan," he says. "You're grieving for him."

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     Scion turns away from his work, golden eyes turning onto Bitter. His expression is hard to read - now Bitter can see why Protectorate files call his face a facade. It's expressionless now and, while Bitter might not be able to tell /why/ he feels this way, there's a strange sense of /disgust/ from Scion.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Scion is good at hiding his emotions. As one of a /very/ small number of beings who can tackle Endbringers on his own, he very well should be a worthy opponent for a Scourge of Autochthon. Scion isn't some sniveling cult member hiding in a hovel, hastily spitting lies from his teeth. He isn't even speaking, for the Great Maker's sake.

     Guess work is the Exalt's only option here. Is that shame? The rain continues to pour, flattening his jet black hair to his head. The lightning flashes, making his dour features into a momentary death's head. No... not shame. Disgust. Why disgust? Two possible reasons--disgust for himself, disgust for the Exalt.

     "Why?" he asks. "Why did you try and stop us when you /knew/ he'd only be back later? Why save lives here only to damn them later?"

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     Scion just stares at Bitter Medicine, utterly blank and expressionless, like he has no idea what Bitter is saying to him. The feeling of disgust is momentary, and it fades back into sadness - melancholy. All this power, but what's behind it?

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     It's like arguing with a wall--but his Caste is known for its conviction. Some would say its stubbornness. Sadness again... not unlike the weather here. Dark, all-encompassing, and cold. Another guess--Scion is sad and upset with himself over the... 'loss' of Leviathan. Why? Is he that compassionate, or is there something else? "What is he to you?"

     "The after-action report said he doesn't follow the proper order of this world."

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     Scion stares for a few moments more, then turns away. He aims a golden laser into the midst of the floor waters, freezing the water across the width of the flooding. The water that hits it only causes the ice to climb higher and further, as if constructed out of a golden nimbus.

     He raises his other hand and points it in Bitter's direction. Golden light flares!

     And the rain stops above Bitter's head. Well, good, bad, unrelated? Who can tell?

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     For a moment, Bitter Medicine thinks Scion's going to challenge him. Suffice it to say, now is a /really/ bad time to do that, given that he's essentially geared for interrogations. In his defense, he expected more speaking. But--the longer this goes on, the more he thinks he understands Scion's unique way of communicating.

     Light. Cessation of inclement weather. It's raining everywhere... except for on him. "Yes," he says. "Neither do I." The significance of the ice eludes him, however. "But unlike you, I can't look at someone and see that. So that begs the question. Who put Leviathan here, and why? Was he your responsibility?"

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     Scion moves past Bitter, touching down near a small farmhouse. It's out of the danger of the flooding, but a tree has fallen through the roof. Scion stares at it for few moments, utterly ignoring the awe and trepidation that comes from the family huddled together and staring at him with wide eyes.

     He turns away and takes to the sky once again. With his perceptive powers, Bitter can tell they're not in any danger. Perhaps Scion only responds to people who are actually at risk of being killed or harmed? The flood could have been a catastrophe.

     The feeling of melancholy persists. Scion hovers in the night sky.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     The flood is stopped. The family in the farmhouse is in no danger. Scion is in the air, which, if his present behavior is any indication, means that he's looking for something else to do. That, in turn, means that he could take off for some other place at any minute, and Bitter Medicine has not the speed to chase after him. He estimates, based on his circumstances, that he has time for one more question.

     What does the name Scion mean? Is he a smaller part of a significant entity? /Why/ is he sad about the loss of Leviathan? There are too many potential questions. Think, Bitter. Scion goes out of his way to save lives, the Endbringers go out of their way to murder. Why would he be grieving over the loss of one of them? Shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't he have /helped?/ Why would he try and actively prevent it?

     "There's something about the Endbringers we don't know. Something which you can't... or won't, tell your people. You go around saving lives to atone for the millions your silence costs you."

Armsmaster (554) has posed:
     Scion waits in the air and answers Bitter only with silence. Perhaps some powerful revelation was too much to hope for. The golden man goes soaring upwards, disturbing nothing in his wake, and then turns towards the east with a movement that would be so sudden as to pulp a normal person at those speeds.

     Off somewhere else. Some other crisis. The golden man who never stops saving the world. The man who says nothing.

     But he leaves Bitter with something. As Scion's golden energy fades in his wake and the rain begins to fall upon him once again, there is something of a revelation there.

     It wasn't sadness that Scion was feeling to such a powerful extent at the mention of Leviathan and his ilk. The sadness is always there, perhaps something more existential, confounding /everything/ about the man.

     No, when it came to the Endbringers...

    It was disgust.