The City is at war, a place among the young and rich

[thepull_mods]

Who: OPEN to anyone! Tag yourself in.
When: 11:27am and onward
Where: Sector 5, Turnabout Square near Cinnegrad Cemetery and branching out through out as listed below.
Summary: Former Governor Redgrave’s funeral procession goes badly very, very quickly. Agitated spectators eventually devolve into protesters against the former Governor, this

Comments

11:27, Sector 5, at the funeral procession; open

[mentis_reae]

Edgeworth had suffered no love whatsoever for Redgrave. He'd thought him a fool and a coward, a man nearly worse than those will ill intentions for the way that he failed to act. Yet even so, no matter what the man had been in life, he still deserved a funeral with mourners; for all that he'd been a poor one, he was still once the governor of this island, the head of the executive branch. And, as such, he was due respects.

So he couldn't help but feel a wave of sheer anger when one of the rioters closest to the procession somehow got footing in the chaos to reach into his pants and attempt to urinate on the casket.

The lewd gesture fell short and was aborted altogether when one of the mourners struck the rioter across the face. Still, it was not the only such obscenity. The violence was spreading and spreading fast, bringing with it cruelty and crudeness; Edgeworth, with that anger still curling within him, looked around for a way in which to help, but could find none. He couldn't simply leap in with his fists swinging, as that would simply contribute to the violence; nor could he arrest these people with the use of his powers, since if the situation continued to deteriorate immobilization could easily cause someone to be trampled. No; arrests could not commence until the situation was more managed.

No. The first step had to be to get out of the knot of violence. He could do nothing to manage it if he himself had to focus on defending himself - particularly since someone like him would attract attention. Possibly. He wasn't altogether certain, since the majority of his knowledge about the operation of angry mobs did come from history books and Julius Caesar.

So without pausing to strike a blow, but with great intent and determination, he began forging through the crowd - and then someone grabbed his arm.

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She hadn't know Redgrave and had never met the man, but the distinct likeness to her grandfather was something she couldn't ignore. The persistent disregard to his fellow citizens and his people had left her feeling anger for months on end. He stopped talking, stopped writing out of the office. It had been like Romdeau all over again. Re-l had been called in when they found the body. She had examined it, had stood over it and had seen the asphyxia with her own eyes. The similarities had almost been too much.

She never had the chance to mourn her grandfather properly, nor had she been able to give him a proper funeral. In respect for both him and for Redgrave, she had gone to the procession in the hopes to keep out of sight and leave when she could.

The fighting that broke out had not been a genuine surprise to her. She was immediately calling Fratley on her earpiece to try and find him and then she ducked into the fray, hoping to push people back and to stop them from fighting. A familiar coat caught her eye and she moved through the crowd to get to the other man. She grabbed his arm.

"Don't. You should get out of here."

[mentis_reae]

Though he was ashamed of the fact, as soon as he felt that touch, he was ready to strike a blow to defend himself. As soon as he heard that voice, however, quiet and steady even in this chaos, he calmed down.

"Ms. Mayer." He himself had to strain to be heard as he turned to her. "I'm trying to get out of this crowd; I have to - "

Someone jostled him from behind, and he took a step forward to keep his balance. Unfortunately, he took a step right into her as a result; he grabbed her arms to keep her from falling, and for just a split second he was aware of the incredible intimacy of their position...Then he regained his feet and stepped back.

"Sorry - We need to get out of the crowd. We can help better from a safe place. Are you with me?"

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It was hard to hear him above the din even with how close they were standing together. She kept her hand on his arm to be sure no one else could pull him away while they were standing there.

"You're going to have a tough time that way. There's..."

He pushed into her and she grabbed his arms to steady him, keeping him close for the moment. She glanced over his shoulder to the instigator and when she was satisfied that they wouldn't cause anymore trouble, she turned her gaze back to Edgeworth's face. She gave him a brief and almost wry smile, nodding.

"Of course. There's a side street nearby, we'll go that way." She pointed to the street she was talking about. She glanced back for a moment and then took a breath, turning back to him. "You go first. I have your back."

[mentis_reae]

He nodded and, after a hesitation, took her arm. He wished it felt more like he was a gentleman leading a lady on a walk; instead, it was a grim attempt to keep from being separated from her in the violence. It wasn't romantic and warm; rather, it was terrifying, every jolt making him fear that she was being detained in some way.

But with difficulty he struggled through. He made it through the crowd to that side street without mishap -

Until there was a tug. Someone, someone large, was grabbing at Re-l.

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She couldn't feel his tension but she could see it in his shoulders, the way he carried himself. While she wasn't afraid for herself, she worried for him and for the people around them. There was shouting and screaming from men, women, and even children behind them where the mob was thickest and though she should have turned around to go help them, it was more important that she got him to safety first.

The side street was easy enough to get to, all things considered. She didn't need to stop and push someone out of the way and no one attacked him.

She felt someone grab her just before she exited the crowd, one hand on her shoulder and another scrabbling at her back and tugging on her hair. She immediately let go of Edgeworth and whipped around, staring upwards at the man behind her. "Get off!" she yelled, and struck out with her hand, all power and little restraint.

She wasn't expecting him to be able to grab her hand before she hit him. For her troubles, she earned the back of a closed fist to her cheek and she stumbled back, nearly right back into Edgeworth.

[mentis_reae]

Edgeworth turned to see that blow, and he grabbed her as she fell back. It was simply instinctive - and later he'd be embarrassed of the instinct which led him to wrap his arm protectively around her from behind, like an embrace, but only later - and likewise it was his unfortunate instinct to call upon his power. He pointed, and the ground under the man's feet re-ordered itself; it jerked forward hard, making the attacker lose his footing.

That didn't mean, however, that the attacker was no longer a threat. He was disoriented by that, certainly, but he was already getting to his feet - and Edgeworth was rather at a loss. He didn't have his briefcase, so he couldn't knock the man unconscious with that; beyond that, he had no idea what he was to do.

But he was ready. He released Re-l from his arms and stood forward, fists clenched, standing in a poor imitation of a fighting stance.

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She should have been better prepared for a strike back at her, especially when it wasn't so easy for her beneath the sun. Normally, she could have hit him hard enough to push him back several feet. She was supposed to be protecting Edgeworth, not the other way around. Re-l pressed her hand to her cheek, frowning angrily when Edgeworth moved the pavement and jostled the man.

Standing better on her own, she glanced back at him and gave him a brief nod. She was fine; the swelling was immediately dying down. Her hand went down and brushed her shotgun for just a moment, grounding herself as she straightened without his arm around her. No, she wouldn't use it. She wouldn't shoot anyone today.

He stepped forward to fight in her stead. Her eyes widened and she went to stop him just as the other man stepped forward, fists flying - one after another - at the prosecutor.

[mentis_reae]

Edgeworth watched those fists coming towards him - and he thought about what Shikamaru had said while training him. He had commented that Edgeworth would never be quick, nor fleet, as Nara himself was; rather, he had endurance, the ability to withstand an attack. And so he didn't flinch away -

But the blows hit impossibly hard. For a moment, as he stumbled backwards, struggling to keep his feet, he was confused by that - genuinely confused - until he realized that this must be a power...

He tripped over a trashcan and fell. For a moment he lay there, stunned, looking up at Ms. Mayer and frantically probing his teeth with his tongue to feel if any had been knocked loose. That was truly a nightmare scenario - to loose teeth. His cheek felt deadened with pain, and his stomach where the second blow had hit ached...It was merely fortunate that he'd been hit significantly below his diaphragm, or he'd not have the ability to get up again.

But get up he did, dragging with him the lid of the garbage can. An exercise of his power, and it grew larger and stronger, turning into a shield rather a lot like a medieval knight's. He was still a bit woozy from those punches, but he wasn't going to sit down when Ms. Mayer - who had saved him so many times, who served the people so truly and faithfully - was fighting.

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The last thing she ever wanted him to do was to fight for her against an enemy who could knock her off her feet. When she saw him standing there, ready to take on the man who had struck her, she felt a swell in her chest of pride. Edgeworth had so often put himself down and spoken ill of his own fighting, yet Grimmjow had told her that he had fought him. He had stood up against an Espada and had fallen, but he had tried.

And he was trying now.

She called for him when he was struck back and into a trashcan. She nearly bolted to his side to help, but at least he was out of the street and on the sidewalk. He was out of the crowd.

Anger flickered in her eyes when she turned back to the man who had interrupted them and she reached out, snatching him by the front of the shirt. In her rage, she didn't think to check herself. Instead, she gripped him with enough force to rip through his shirt with her budding claws; she threw him out of the street and onto the sidewalk, past Edgeworth. He cursed at her when she went over to the prosecutor. Unfortunately, she was giving him enough time to get back on his feet.

"Are you okay?"

[mentis_reae]

"I'm all right," Edgeworth answered, feeling a bit dizzy and disoriented but steady enough to speak. He settled his feet, took a tight grip on his makeshift shield, and then grabbed her by the shoulder to steer her behind him. If he was solid enough to take blows, as Nara had said, then that rather made him qualified to be a shield himself. As indecisive as he was, however, and as slow and clumsy as he was, he could never be any sort of sword; Ms. Mayer, quick and sure and fierce, was much more qualified for that task. But the sword had to be protected.

Gone a bit silly, Miles. The metaphors are a bit overelaborate, do you not think?

"We have no desire to fight you," he said to the man. "We're simply trying to get away from this."

The fellow - large, heavily muscled, with a strangely youthful face - had gotten to his feet again. He was glaring now with undisguised hostility.

"Police officer and a rich guy. Bet you two are faithful Redgrave scum," the man spat in return. "Just looking to get to your cronies so you can send in the troops, have us all shot down." There was barely any shift in his weight before he was punching again, his blow leaving a dent in the center of Edgeworth's shield.

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She moved behind him as directed, hand on the small of his back to assure him that she was right there and ready with him. The bit of shadow cast by the overhang of a shop sign was enough for her. It cast her in the darkness and she allowed herself to feel the deep thrumming pulse in her chest. If she had another minute to let her Amrita Cells regenerate, she could end this with one solid strike.

"No one's going to shoot anyone. Just back off and go home. Don't you have someone to be with?" she retorted. She had once talked a man down from a robbery some months prior with the same sort of line but she wasn't as calm now, nor was she gentle in her delivery. She wasn't trying to coax him.

(She wanted a fight now. She wanted to make him regret touching either of them.)

The moment he slammed his fist into Edgeworth's makeshift shield, she moved forward and to the side, striking out with her foot. She caught him at the back of the knee, forcing him to falter in his step. And then she threw a well aimed punch, one that missed its target. Instead of getting him in the jaw, her fist glanced off his cheek. He kicked her back and she stumbled to the side and further into the shade. With his attention on her, Edgeworth could land a blow...and then she could finish this.

[mentis_reae]

And, indeed, that question was far from soothing for this man. His eyes widened, and his young face twisted; he snarled, "No - no one, thanks to you bastards - " And as Ms. Mayer stumbled, he used the opportunity to act at once, pulling a switchblade from his pocket.

Edgeworth acted at once, adrenaline fueling something perhaps akin to idiocy. He turned that shield to his shoulder and hurled himself into the man, using the weapon and his weight to pin him against the wall. He was less solidly-built than this tank of a man, but he was taller and he had the advantage; he pressed it, digging his feet into the ground and angling downwards, trying to hold him down.

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Shit. This was going to get very ugly if they didn't stop him. Edgeworth had him better, striking him back into the wall and holding him. She rushed forward and slid almost between them, grabbing the hand with the knife. She twisted carefully until he shouted and dropped the weapon; she kicked it behind the trash cans. The last thing they needed was for him to get it again.

Re-l moved her other hand to the man's throat, claws out, pinning him angrily. Her eyes were nearly glowing and she made an annoyed sound in her throat to get his attention. "Stop squirming or you'll cut yourself. I'm not joking." She squeezed just enough to make him stop, and then she moved to her belt to grab her handcuffs.

[mentis_reae]

"Bitch," the man snarled, but he stayed docile enough. It was a good thing he did; as he'd gotten angrier, it had seemed that his strength had increased, and it had been all that Edgeworth was able to do to keep his feet.

"We need to keep him away from the crowds," Edgeworth said as Ms. Mayer pulled out her handcuffs. "We can't take him with us, obviously - but we can't keep him here, not when it looks like the violence is spreading..."

"Fuck you," spat the man, evidently for good measure; Edgeworth leaned on him irritably.

"Intelligently said." He looked upwards. "Is there any way in which you could possibly...fly him up to the second story? If we left him on a balcony..."

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"Yeah, you're so original," she drawled, pushing her knee against him and holding him still for the moment. She nudged Edgeworth back for just a moment; she grabbed the man dragged his hands behind his back, cuffing them. She moved only so they could both keep him still.

Re-l looked up at the rooftop, slowly nodding. "Yeah, I can try." She huffed softly, stepping back. "And I liked this shirt, too," she muttered. Between one breath and the next, she focused on her Amrita Cells and pushed the wings out of her back, softly crying out in pain. She swallowed back the noise and then stepped forward, grabbing the man by the hair. "Listen. If you squirm, I drop you. If you don't want to be a pancake, you'll do what I say."

And he could curse all he wanted, but she was mostly serious. She nodded to Edgeworth and then grabbed the man, pushing herself upwards. Shifting her grip beneath his armpits, she flew him upwards with relative ease, just up to the third floor. She deposited him on the fire escape, letting him sit there. "Stay," she said, alighting on the railing. The sun immediately began to burn at the edges of her wings and she jumped off, landing back down on the ground. She pulled them flat against her back and stepped back into the shadows for a moment, shoulders tense.