Scene #8386: Acrophobia

Owner	Pose
Nephra Tangent	It's a cheery day in the lakeside city of Point Celestine- which is to say, windy, raining, and eerily quiet. Its once-bustling port is memorialized by the rusted hulks of dozens and dozens of bulk cargo cranes, and outskirting warehouses and towering factory smokestacks clue in to the city's industrious past. People filter in and around its streets, in chaotic formations of umbrellas to shield them from the drizzle. Dilapidated billboards advertise recruitment for unheard-of PMCs and their campaigns, or the long-history of some run-down foundry, or just what corporate beer brand tastes 'iciest' this season. The clouds feel low and heavy, and the air far warmer than the pervasive greyness implies. Its skyline is a a lonely handful of towers so tall they feel out of place amongst the sprawling, labarynthine brickwork body of the city. Brightly lit logos for various companies adorn their plate-glass walls, and one, the Chalice Center Municipal Development Site, still hosts a small flock of construction cranes huddling above its highest peak, the endless state of not-quite-finished-ness being the closest it comes to fitting the rest of the city's fading vigor. The top of the tower, where the crane's bases all meet, is a tiered series of concrete rectangles, as HVAC systems and stairwells and transmitting equipment fight with drain grates and overflowing gutter systems to take up floorspace. It offers a wholly unobstructed view from horizon to horizon, with not a single thing around taller than the tower. It's an arena by any other name. Leaning outwards, one arm gripped tight to a steel anchorline of a crane's raised base to steady her, is Nephra, gazing skyward as her omnipresent raincoat gets its use. As she waits, rocking in a hemicircle back and forth around the anchorline, she hums to herself, the drumline of raindrops and woodwinds of one-hundred-fifty-story breeze drowning her voice out. She shouldn't be up here. It's clearly a crime. But no construction worker, no yard warden, no bystander, and no janitor is going to dare and say anything to the girl in the one-ton military exosuit with dried blood up to the elbows if she wants to waltz up the skyscraper's stairs, singing into a lollipop. They just want to go home at the end of the day, safe and intact. In the background, thunder rumbles. It won't be the loudest crash in the sky for much longer. Nephra's directions to Ishirou encompass the city, the address, and the rough time she wants to meet, but notably lack instruction of where to find her, how to get there, what this is meant to be, and, most pertinent, how to get up the still-being-built top half of the skyscraper. He'll have to come to figure that all out by himself. She's hoping he won't. Wouldn't be right if it was oh-so easy-peasy for him. The base of the tower itself is a corporate complex, sponsored by something called 'Chalice', but inhabited by a few dozen other businesses, from quiet fast food businesses to a handful of banks, to signs for dentists and surgeons and law firms. The denizens are everyday-people, in suits and shiny shoes, who would rather stand by quietly as anything unusual happens than comment or interfere. If Ishirou passes by them, he can be sure that at best, their onlooking gazes only mean his presence may make dinner-table gossip later this evening. At worst, they won't even stare. They've all got other things on their minds. Really, who doesn't? Haha.
Ishirou	The rain felt appropriate for how he feels now. Ishirou understands the realization of how badly he destroyed everything in his own life. He couldn't keep himself together for the ambush on Petra. He couldn't deal with her even socially. He pushed her to the point he got what he wanted because he wasn't able to sift through his own emotions to deal with her. When he did, she lead him to a trap, and worse he made an excuse for it. This combined with unconsciously hurtful things he's been thinking and saying about Lilian...someone he'd consider a sister...the hurt he's put her through across the incident. Everything he's realized until this point...it's made him realize just how awful he was. He hates it, he hates that he is like this... he thought he was trying to be like them... His own thoughts aside, he arrives at the address. He waits for a few moments, trying to see if she'd come to him, or...? It'd be dangerous to fight near all of these people...so after some time, he speaks to POD. "POD, scan. If she's here she's not visible," he says and POD makes a small sound in response before scanning. -Target is at the top of the building, in the area still under construction.- "Can we take an elevator up there?" -Negative.- "Best way up there?" -With the available systems at your disposal, flight.- Ishirou sighs. Alright. His screen face becomes more resigned as the Pocket Dimension opens above him. POD seems to come apart, attaching itself to various places on his form, while the areas connect with the black leather-looking outfit. His head is covered by a screen. Out of the pocket, come several pieces of extra equipment. First on his arms, then his legs, and finally his back and head. Ishirou leaps, as the thrusters kick on and soar up towards where he got her signal. He flies, and flies...and then eventually upon reaching the top lands somewhere within her sight. He doesn't say anything, not yet...he's just more reserved about what is going to happen.
Nephra Tangent	Winds buffet and roar around Ishirou, while this close to the tower, breeze spinning off into turbulent eddies against the glass. A handful of people within the office levels glance out the window as he soars up, but after around the 80th floor, the interior space is unfurnished and sterile as it flashes past view like a blank zoetrope. Landing on the roof is easy, puddles rippling as he touches down. Insert dissapointed sigh here. "You actually showed up. You really, truly did. Haha." Nephra stops her childish swinging, one clawed gauntlet reaching up to push her wet hair back, as her eye meets him. She laughs, dry and slow, without even a hint of a smile on her face. "Dumbass. You're not ever going to learn, are you? What do you think you were rushing into, here, Ishirou? Won't you tell me, hm? What makes me more trustworthy than any other Watch operative luring a bright and pure Paladin like yourself out, wherever I so choose?" Up here, it's clear that Nephra is already armored in her suit, its metal frame gently covered over by her rain jacket. For style, maybe more than practicality. From the concrete platform she was standing on, she jumps- not far, just down to the surface of the roof- with an echoing thud. It's a good thing he landed. Haha. The second she hits the ground herself, a high-pitched whine revs up from her, and limbs move like forge-softened lead. Gravity skyrockets, and flight is no longer the easiest option. A captive audience. Haha. "I want to know. I want to know in excrutiating detail, why you thought this could be a good idea. Whether you think this will help you. Or help me. Or make you look like some earnest, honest hero. Did you come to make up? Did you come to make out? Did you come to put me down? What's your story of this going to be, hm?" She takes a deep breath in, seemingly unbothered by the crushing weight, as she slowly steps towards him. "I want to know what I'm in for. I want to know what kind of joke you'll try to take me as, or make yourself into." Now, she smiles, one single metal canine reflecting shiny in the towertop floodlights. "You really oughta know by now how my jokes always end, Ishirou."
Ishirou	Inside the connection between POD and Ishirou, a conversation happens at accelerated speeds. "Gravity manipulation?" -Affirmative.- "Adjust the thrusters to account for that, we won't be able to rely on our full flight and mobility to escape these blows...instead let's use it for quick bursts of speed, and use an electromagnetic field as a defense to try and throw her off." -Attempting to counter, sending telemetry data into systems. Updating.- What happens is that Ishirou's thrusts turn to life, having had just enough time to realize what was happening. He can't get on the wing, but he can be surprisingly responsive, especially as he uses an electromagnetic field aimed to try and repulse himself from the ground slightly. She's dangerous...he's going to have to be careful. But...how does he... "It wasn't recklessness that brought me here today. The other Paladins know where I am, and can be here to recover me should things turn that way.." he says, firmly. "You said you didn't want to hear my fake tears. I don't know how I can actually show any sincerity to you." "...But I...really do want to apologize to you. I have made a mess out of a lot of things, and then turned around and took for granted what I was given as a second chance...I couldn't really handle it...and was trying to compensate for it." "And I hurt a lot of people thoughtlessly. Both in going there, and my behavior after. You, Candy, Rita, Hibiki, Lilian, Kale, Go..." he takes a breath. "Running away from this didn't seem right, and letting you beat me up only makes me think it'll hurt you more. I...wasn't sure if I should come at all...but..." "I think ignoring you wouldn't be right either. I don't know how to fix the harm I've caused...but I'm going to try and if I mess up then I gotta fix myself and try again. Again and again, until I get it right..." He says this, before two shoulder-mounted guns shift down, and a splash of energy bolts are fired in a stream toward her. "...I got complacent...I got arrogant...I tried to be things I was not and I paid for it. The worst part is I took a lot of people with me...including you."
Nephra Tangent	"It was recklessness that brought you here. You know how I know that? Because nothing was in the way of you staying home. Nothing was on the line to get you to come here. Nothing made you do this but your own want. It doesn't stop being reckless when you have a backup plan. It doesn't stop being reckless when there's corpse retrieval units on-call. It stops being reckless when you stop throwing yourself away." Nephra's steps resound as she approaches, sneering fury- actual fury- seeping into her voice past gritted teeth. While armored, even in her blood-stained armor, she carries no weapon. "How often have you asked what others want you to do, to make this better? To make you better? Running away, or not showing up, or doing anything but exactly what I thought you'd do if given the chance, would have been a start. Haha." One more, she slicks back her bangs, as the rusty tinge of her gauntlets grows streaky in the rainfall. "It's really, truly that simple. I don't want you to make things better. I want you to not make them-" Energy guns pop like firecrackers, spitting bright bolts through the heavy air. He actually fired first. Huh. The gravity ought to make anyone, especially someone clad in the volume of metal Nephra is, into a slow, exhausted lump. But joints and supports still click-snap into explosive action, ducking and weaving on split-second spinal instinct. Gravity flares around her, for a split second, ineffectual against the formless arcing energy. But even when it does strike her suit, it fizzles with little more than a scorch mark and neuroelectric sting. "Goddamn. First shot gonna be yours, huh? Didn't think you had it in you to be that much more of a piece of work. Call that the first time today I'm surprised. I fucking bet it'll be the last." With her last spitting exhale, Nephra catapults herself into action. Three bounding steps- One, two, three,- cover the distance between them, leaving craters in the concrete that start to fill with rainwater. The gravity increases, again, ground lurching up to meet them. Her arm cocks back, throwing a blow to crush into his torso, to latch on tight, and push him up against the concrete base of the rooftop's perimiter railing. "You want to reduce harm? You want to not drag anyone down? It's simple! It's easy! You shut up, sit down, and stop playing pretend that anyone but you wants you to be the hero!"
Ishirou	Each of her words hit with the force of her blows. He wanted to be here..? It was ego..? It was some stupid drive to 'be a hero' more than he wanted to help. The blow aims, and if not for POD he'd have been completely smashed. POD activates the thrusters, trying to draw him backward... But the force was too much and had the desired effect. His chest nearly caves in, and the entire thing flies back into the guard rail. Ishirou slumps, hitting the ground ass first, and sits there for a moment. He's not sure what to do...what to say...if there is anything? '...and stop pretending that anyone but you wants to be the hero!' That one hurts more than anything else she could have said. He wants...he wants to be a hero so badly...but he's realizing that it's not something he's made to be. Every attempt has failed, and everything right now is crumbled into ashes. 'Petra Soroka's insecurity about her own worth is correct. The budget clone made out of polystyrene, cotton stuffing, and betrayal is preferable to her. If she died retroactively and we had only ever met the copy we would all be meaningfully better off and less compromised.' "I'm no better than Petra...am I?" he says, without looking up. The rain falls across the RESCUE unit. "I've...been trying to play a role, trying to be something I'm not...and hurting people who come to care about me.." he says, and his head comes down. He doesn't do anything, he doesn't take any shots. He doesn't try and dodge anymore...he's just been crushed by a reality too obvious and he'd been ignoring that he has nothing left.
Nephra Tangent	"I don't give two rancid, bleeding shits if you're just the same as Petra! It's not about her! Shut up about roles, when you don't even understand them! Everything you do, everyone you are, will just be a fucking mask if you think you can go about with words instead of action, instead of substance, instead of anything!" Nephra punctuates her statement with another slug to Ishirou's torso. Metal cracks. She doesn't care that he's standing down. Again and again. When it becomes clear he isn't resisting, she picks him up by the neck- a grip tight enough to choke, if his neck would have had blood or air flowing through it- and hoists him aloft. "This is fine. This is fucking fantastic. Lets fucking start, ladies and gentlemen, with what recklessness means!" Where she stands, right by the ledge, the wind whips hard and fast around them. Thunder peals. Somewhere in the city below, faint sirens blare, their source indeterminate and unimportant. One foot after another, Nephra climbs up onto the concrete railing, feet balanced perfectly where she stands. "I told you earlier, Ishirou. I'm terrified of heights. Haha. I hate falling! It's the worst feeling there's ever been! I'd prefer being shot! Nobody should be doing this! It feels so utterly wrong!" She lets out a frantic laugh. "So it'd be stupid, so fucking pointlessly stupid, for me to be up here! Haha! Except, you've given me a reason to be, as much as I don't want to even be a tenth this high! A reason big enough for this to matter, for it to be worth it! You've made it up to fucking me, to teach you this! So here I am, where I could trip or fall, to tell you how to really be reckless!" Nephra brings him close to her face, still gripped by the neck, and whispers, through gritted, hateful teeth. "You need to know what's at stake. You need to know the fear of falling. Not just heights. Falling in every single meaning. You need to be scared. You need to know the kinds of hurt a brand new fucking body, freely given, can't shake off the scars of." A resigned sigh, near the side of his face. If his dermal covering can feel touch, he'll feel Nephra's breath against it. A finger of her free hand taps, thrice, against her hip. "This is the part I don't like. So pay close attention." "Ready?"
Nephra Tangent	There's a sudden, lurching pull, almost graceful for the first quarter-second before accelerometers and altitude sensors can relay to Ishirou what's happening. In that split fraction of a moment, it feels just like plummeting. But it isn't. Not yet. Haha. It's not his heart going thud-thud in his chest, it's Nephra's. The Penrose reactor tucked into her suit is screaming in its heartbeat cry, warping gravity around the two of them through the meticulous and instinctual manipulation of its in-built shielding. Any last-second structural analysis Ishirou could do would reveal the reason it can toy with the world this easily, and to this great an extent: at its core rests a pinprick-sized black hole, with roughly the mass of a moon. The fact that he, let alone Nephra, could be this close to it, as it sits, stabilized and endlessly hungry, is a miracle of science- the fact that it doesn't have more of a mark on their gravity well is yet another one. That plummetting feeling? Simply the instant, tugging pull of it ramping up past 28.02 times Earth-like gravity, dancing a two-step on the surface of a boiling sun. Concrete cracks under Nephra's footing. Even the clouds above lurch. The Chalice Center Municipal Development Site Tower creaks and groans. Metal in the cranes above slowly, ever so slowly begins to buckle. Below, glass spiderwebs. All in the span of a second. "One hundred and fifty stories, at fourteen feet a story. Nearly half a mile into the sky. You'll hit terminal velocity. Haha." Even her breaths are ragged from the pressure, supported by her suit's steel. A large inhale comes with the tell-tale cracking of one of her own ribs. She barely winces. "Too bad that what that velocity is, is for me to decide." Now, she leans off. Or, more accurately, shifts her posture just a few inches before they are both pulled off the edge. Together. With her claws around his neck. It's not a long fall- 30 G's, we'll break the speed of sound less than halfway into its two-seconds. Haha. Isn't that something? -but the air burns from the friction. The sky itself shifts red, visible in the parts of the lightning-quick descent that Ishirou can manage to face upwards still. It's too late for anything but damage control. Haha.
Ishirou	Ishirou takes every shot, every punch...he is lifted up and would be choking if not for the mechanical nature of his body. His body cracks under the strain, even with the RESCUE the stuff underneath isn't anywhere near his usual level. Which is funny, given how fragile he is normally. He's dragged to the edge, when she mentions being terrified of heights again his eyes lock on to hers. Her words, through her teeth, hateful as they were to him make him pay attention. She can see the edge of fear in his eyes. He was afraid, but it was some nameless fear and not specific. Fear of pain maybe..? But then they go over the edge. She's got him fully in her gravity, and there isn't anything he can really do... His scans tell him everything he needs to know, about the reactor in her...about just how crushing she can do this. How much mass that's aligned against him? He could try and fight her, he could possibly break free. He could kick her off and change direction in the fall and lower his own velocity. He even has the calculations... No. His hands reach up and try and grab her arms. He reaches to try and counter the forces aligned against him with everything he has. Every thruster, every bit of electromagnetic power...it's not enough. He won't be able to stop him, she's completely in control. He /knows/ it's not enough... "Please...stop hurting yourself...over me...please..." he says before they hit. The forces are enormous, everything centered on his torso smashes him into the pavement. If not for the forces he managed to align, he'd be completely dead...but he's definitely trashed beyond fighting capacity, the RESCUE devastated and immediately vanishing. POD rises, is forced out of their transformation, and hovers. "I'm...sorry.." Ishirou chokes out. "...If I had done anything differently...if I hadn't acted...like that.." he says, "if I hadn't come...you wouldn't have had to do this to yourself.." "I just...I just wanted to..." he says, unable to do anything. He can't cry or sniffle...his screen is broken, so his vision is already going. POD is there, so he has some vision through it. "I wanted to be like them...the people who saved me...I wanted to be strong like them and..." "I just...hurt...everyone..."
Nephra Tangent	The two of them crumple into the plaza below. Concrete slabs shatter like glass. The impact comes far too quick, felt before its heard, before the gut-sinking feeling of freefall- or the memory of how it feels -can leave minds. The air smells like ozone. There is no dust cloud- even fine particulates aren't spared from the crushing pull. Before it can register that its over, before it can register that Nephra's control over the area's gravity is letting up, from the own shock she took, onlookers to the landing split their reactions into panicked shouts, desperate fleeing, or camera flashes. Maybe this /will/ make the dinner table gossip. Nephra lands on her feet. The abject force of impact, despite the stability of her suit, and despite all its in-built dampening, was enough to pop capillaries in her legs and fingers, growing bruises where nothing hit, or chip joint capts from the resounding shock. A human, on their own, would be dead. A human would be paste. Nephra is just happy to be on solid ground once more. Sometime, either in the crash or before, Ishirou's neck became no longer clamped within the vicegrip of her claws. Haha. Maybe he'll get some marks from 'em. It takes a solid while of blinking, breathing- Ow. -and waiting for her ears to stop ringing, before she can notice Ishirou is already talking. Blood dribbles down from her ears, even. "...Shove it. Shove it, Ishirou." She coughs- pained. "This isn't over you. Don't take that from me!" A heavy boot kicks the side of his torso. "I don't need you to say sorry! It's not fair! I don't need anythingfrom you! I'm no-one! It's not an achievement, it's not an honorable thing, it's not a necessary thing, to try and prove to me that you 'only wanted to be like them', that you 'could have done differently'!" She's shouting. It's hard to tell if it's from just her anger, or if her hearing is messed up enough that she isn't aware how loud she is. "You did what you did! You'll always do exactly what you do! Coulda's and woulda's matter less than throwing gauss-accelerated horshoes and pin-pulled hand-grenades at my god-damned teeth! You know who's being hurt the most, from this? Right now?" Another heavy kick. "You know who's going to be hurt more?" Coughing out, she leans down over Ishirou's shattered frame. "You. Always you. And it'll be just your fault." Lightning-quick, Nephra grabs out at POD, clawed fingers piercing in to hold on tight. With one hand, she forces it to face Ishirou. "Haha. Lucky you've got backup on-call." Standing straight up, again, with creak-clacking strained motions, she raises a heavy metal boot, flaring gravity once more to bring it down with a crush. Right over Ishirou's hip. She grinds down, trying to crush metal with metal, trying to hurt, trying to scar, trying to separate his robot frame's leg from his chassis. She tries again and again, pressing her heel into joint after noint after joint. She'll shatter and maim what she can, amputate what he gives, and grin a teeth-gritted grimace all the while. "Remember this. Remember that I'm no-one. Remember that the world can hurt in real ways. No-fucking-matter how you get fixed."
Ishirou	Ishirou is quickly kicked, again and again. She shouts and he's forced to hear every word. Then that foot presses down on his leg joints. On the servos. Worse, POD is grabbed, being squeezed and it sparks from the pressure. But it's nothing compared to what comes next. The leg comes down, smashing the joint. Crushing it clean through. It's not pleasant. It's not kind. It's not /fast/. Stressing the metal out to its limits and beyond...isn't a quick or pleasant process. It is the opposite of that. He screams, wildly holding at the space his leg used to be before writhing back as the feedback shocks his system. Soon enough he goes into some sort of power saver mode or safety mode to prevent greater damage should the exposed electronics and underlying robotics are damaged anymore.
Nephra Tangent	He's not dead, is he? Staring down at Ishirou's unmoving body, Nephra drops POD, to wipe her brow. The rain still pours down, uncaring and unquestioning. By now, after she's through with him, there's new sirens, clearly heading this way. She has a whole host of reasons to prefer not sticking around, because these sirens certainly /are/ for their commotion. But there's time for a few final touches. Fishing them out from her tool belt, Nephra pulls out a slightly-beaten pair of spray-paint cans. Won't even need to shake them today. Haha. If she's going to be sending a gift to the Paladins, she'll make sure she tags it with its giver's signature. Plus, she's pretty sure Ishirou would hate it. It doesn't take long to make her mark. Where his shattered viewscreen once was now rests a diagonally-tilted smiley face, complete with a lolling tongue in crimson. Where his torso lay dented and bruised, an alternating-color target is marked, dripping crude rivulets of paint in the summer drizzle. "Didn't I tell you at the beginning?" She mutters, to his unhearing, unconscious body. "This is what always happens with my jokes. Haha." Her suit disengages, leaving her bruised, beaten body unsupported. Adrenaline starts its inevitable crash, and the muggy air starts to feel cold to her. She's thankful for her jacket, at least. Red splotches don't show up under its cover, after all. Awkwardly, desperately, she shoves her hands into its transparent pockets, sliding her oversized gloves on once more, and finally turns away from Ishirou. "Good luck surviving the aftermath."