(Untitled)

[npcz]

At 3:00 in the afternoon, there's quite a crowd gathered at Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park. Most of them look pretty much like any citizen of Chicago - all races, all ages from early teens up to the smattering of grey-haired but stalwart protestors, people from every apparent profession and walk of life. A few have shown up in their work

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[gotbottle]

Rachel is in the crowd, listening. And scowling, though she's doing her best to make it seem a thoughtful scowl, and not an I-oughtta-punch-somebody-in-the-testicles-for-this scowl. Even though that's really what she wants to do, hearing and seeing all this. It reminds her too much of what was going on at home, before she came through the Rift. She didn't like it there; she sure as hell doesn't like it here.

She sees one of the t-shirted volunteers roaming a bit away from where she's standing. Rachel murmurs a few polite words to get people to move and begins to cut through the crowd on an intercept course, intending to get a pamphlet, and some more information.

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin couldn't very well ignore the fliers put up all around the city, and if there's one thing archangels are drawn to - other than demons, that is - it's trouble. He didn't really expect to see Rachel here. In retrospect, that was kind of dumb.

He weaves through the crowd neatly, doing his best to look innocuous, nothing for anyone to notice... Until he reaches Rachel, and then he falls into step beside her, remarking quietly, "Are you sure you should be here?"

[gotbottle]

Rachel stops. She looks up, and tucks her hair behind her ears, shrugging.

"No," she admits. "But... I wanted to learn more, you know?"

She pauses a moment, considering what she's going to say; then, for the benefit of anyone that might be listening in, she explains, "You know how it is: the more you understand about what seems to be going on, the better you can protect the people who need protecting, right? That's all I'm doing. Trying to understand."

Truth of the matter is, she's angry about this. But it's the first real emotion she's felt, strongly, since the carnival, and she'll be damned if she just ignores it.

[astrongerbeacon]

Martin grimaces a little. Much as he'd rather she not be here, much as the tension in the air is making his hackles rise, making him want to let his wings out before something goes wrong here, and as much as this seems like a terrible place for a wanderer to be right about now...

"I guess that's fair." He grabs a pamphlet from a passing volunteer and glances at the front cover, wrinkling his nose at it scornfully. "It's... not really your job to protect them, though, is it?" She's a wanderer. If anyone's in danger here...

[weaponof_choice]

Peter's leaning against a tree, very confused by what he's seeing. And, somehow, he's just got a bad feeling about all of this. The rhetoric (that's what Nathan would call it, if he was here) sounds like they're looking to make somebody--or some group of people--a scapegoat.

It's always easier to fear what you don't understand, than to make the effort to understand. And the fear here is almost palpable. These people certainly don't like something, and they're being very vocal about that.

Peter's afraid they mean him.

He's not sure what to do, whether to speak up or play along, whether to stay or get the hell out, so he just stands there, eyes watchful.

[callyourselfa]

From just above Peter, a branch or two above his head, there's a hmph followed by an annoyed Cornish accent saying "Well, there's a rabble, if ever I saw one. Troublemkers and rabble-rousers." There's a pause. If Peter looks up, he may realize that the pause is due to the bird who's talking looking down at him as though for input. "Fair number of the locals mixed in too, though, what'd you know. All in all the sort of crowd to steer clear of, Mr. Peter Petrelli Wanderer."

...yeah, One For Sorrow still has not quite worn out the novelty of his Rift power yet.

[weaponof_choice]

Peter does look up, and he's completely flabbergasted to see a bird. Not because he's seeing a bird--they had those back home in New York, you know--but because said bird is apparently talking to him.

Peter thinks this over, and sums up all his confusion and uncertainty thus:

"Uh. ...What?"

Nice going, Peter. To be fair, Nathan got all the smooth-talking genes in this generation of the family, but. Still.

[callyourselfa]

Congratulations, Peter. You now have a bird looking at you like you're an idiot.

"Not long off the boat, are you?" One For Sorrow asks. "Well, welcome to the land of the free, home of the brave... though I for one would bravely walk away from that crowd, there! No good among them. Especially not for our immigrant friends, if you catch my meaning." He blinks sagely.

[soundofarrows]

Eilir is standing just inside the tree-line of the park surrounding the fountain. The can't hear what the man on the podium is shouting, but she knows why the crowd has amassed. She has wandered around the city the past few days to reacquaint herself and she read more than one of the fliers. The situation in the city had intensified since she was last here, and it has her concerned. That's why she's here

[with_coffee]

The narration has no idea why Robin is here. It's possible that he needed a break from the hotel, from everything in his life, and somehow (because it's his luck) ended up here. He certainly has no desire to be anywhere near a mob, because it's situations like these that are so chaotic that threaten to create a situation that ignites his anger in a way he can't escape from. It only takes one drunk person or one passing around of a beer bottle, and he's royally fucked in the worst sort of way.

He's trying to make his way the fuck out of here when he notices who he, at first, thinks is Natasha (who is dead so that's silly and he's already done this once before this week so one would think he'd get that by now), and then he thinks that she is Fred. Robin meant that he didn't want to lose another- Not that- He doesn't want to let wanderers wander around at a place like this, especially Fred she seemed... enough like Natasha. It worries him

[soundofarrows]

Eilir knows she shouldn't still be here. It's stupid, and she could be caught in the middle, but she has to be there in case something does happen. She won't be anyone's scapegoat for the ills of this city, and she won't allow them to take their anger out on some innocent. There is no fucking way

[with_coffee]

Oh, bloody hell. Not Fred. How many of them are there? Did she just speak to me telepathically? Right. Focusing.

Robin has no friends. He has followed her though as much as he'd rather walk away entirely. It would be the perfect opportunity. It seems, however, that people keep putting people that look like Natasha in front of his face. He'll help them once, and then stay as far away as possible.

"I'm not trying to-" She was signing earlier. Great. Right. Don't know how to sign. I've got to try to look like I'm not going to harm her so as not to scare her unnecessarily. This will work out wonderfully.

[duology]

Ace is here. Of course she's here. Something like this, a protest held by people who have already proved themselves to be violent, has absolutely no chance of staying a protest. Ace can smell a riot a mile away. She can practically feel it, thrumming through the crowd, thrumming through her veins.

For now she's hanging back, patient as ever, waiting. She has her guns. And the fertilizer bought last month has been put to good use, if the couple of carefully wrapped pipe bombs in her small duffel are any indication.

It's only a matter of time.