Logs:Start a Riot

Start a Riot
CN: homophobic slurs
Dramatis Personae Daiki, Shane	2020-10-19 "{Don't look at them. Just me, okay? I'm way prettier anyway.}"
Location <NYC> Lower Manhattan
There's been a crowd outside Central Booking for days, sometimes swelling and sometimes shrinking as the mass arrests from the weekend are gradually processed. Right now it's at a high point. A steady flow of arraignments has drawn a crowd, supporters and jeering hecklers alike ready to welcome the newly released protesters back into the world. Still in the same clothes that he'd worn in the small hours of Saturday morning, Shane draws a more fervent response than many others; perhaps its the blue skin and demonic appearance; perhaps a wide familiarity in the community; perhaps it's the Mutant Mongrels cut he still wears over his button down. Neither the thanks nor the jeers seem to change his blank exhausted expression much. Though he's been scarce at the actual protests so far, Daiki has been out here with the jail support contingent for a couple of hours now. He's dressed in a slim black two-button suit over a white dress shirt with a blue skinny tie, and has a brown paper takeout container cradled under one arm and a slender silver thermos in the other hand. At the clapping and booing that greets Shane he steps forward to meet him. His face is calm, but his breathing speeds with relief. "Hey," he says softly, the ripple of his power almost palpable if faint. He switches to Vietnamese, "{Do you need to sit a moment, or do you want to get out of here?}" Shane beelines for Daiki, one arm curling around the other man in a quick squeeze before he sniffs at the bag. "{I --}" he starts to answer this but at first just sways slightly against Daiki's side. His smile is small, self-conscious. "{I think I need to fucking eat. You're a lifesaver.}" His brows wrinkle as he pulls back. "{Ba been out yet? Doubt they're feeding him right at all.}" Daiki's arm squeezes Shane, his face pressed tight against his head, nevermind the prickly spines that pass for his hair. The box smells richly of nem nuong, and Daiki presses it into Shane's hands. "{Got coffee, too,}" he adds, waggling the thermos gently. "{He got out earlier and immediatley went on a supply run. Matt's with him.}" He hasn't yet entirely brought himself to let go of Shane, though he is finally ushering/supporting the smaller man toward the rest of their comrades. "{Blink's been portaling people around as they get out, so once you've eaten we can get you back to my place or Evolve easily -- wherever you want, but you should rest.}" The slow slip of Daiki's control is perhaps hard to notice for Shane, to whom it is only an intensifying focus and desire, understandable under the circumstances and easily manageable. But to the gathered crowd it seems to be a different story. The timbre of the counter-protesters changes, both in volume and pitch. "Fucking perverts!" someone shouts, to a chorus of murmured agreements. "That ain't natural!" someone answers. The hecklers are pressing closer to them, their movements growing more restless and aggressive. Shane lets his eyes close, his cheek resting up against Daiki's side and his arm squeezing just a little tighter. He straightens again as Daiki starts to usher him along, gills fluttering at the shift in yelling. A quiet huff precedes his words. "{Man, we really got some all-inclusive assholes out here today. Why stop at hating mutants if you can just hate goddamn everyone.}" Despite the flippancy of his tone, he's sticking very close to Daiki, a keener alertness in his previously sleepy eyes. "{There weren't so many when I first got here,}" Daiki mutters darkly. "{Mostly just generic right-wing assholes, but I worry some are out for blood, after the 7th precinct.}" The counter-protesters surge forward. Daiki hisses out a breath. His "oh no" is quiet enough that it's doubtful anyone other than Shane can hear it. "I think I'm..." His breathing comes faster despite the desperate effort to keep control. "You wanna bet these fags are cop-killers?" asks the same voice that declared them perverts. From their vicinity in the crowd, a half-full water bottle sails through the air and explodes against the ground beside them. "{I think a lot of people were just looking for an excuse.}" Shane's jaw tightens at the voice in the crowd. Now he's starting to usher Daiki along -- or tries, though the press of people in around them makes this a difficulty. The flutter of his gills stops when Daiki starts to breathe faster. His hand curls into Daiki's, squeezing gently; at the first water bottle he shifts himself more squarely in front of his friend. He's a little more determined in his determined attempts to cut through the crowd; despite his size the raised arm he uses to hold his space seems equal to the task of pressing back people a good deal larger than him. "{Hey.}" His voice is quiet, now, but firm. "{Don't look at them. Just me, okay? I'm way prettier anyway.}" "Fucking speak English!" someone, somewhere in the crowd, demands. Daiki flinches when the water bottle hits; flinches again at the answering surge of agitation from their own camp. His flimsy efforts to reel his power back in do not seem to meet with much success. "Leave them alone!" one of the jail support stalwarts calls out. As if rallied by this, some of the recently released are pressing forward to meet the counter-protesters, which does not serve to calm either side. Daiki huddles closer to Shane as they abruptly find themselves in the press of increasingly hostile bodies. Daiki chuckles nervously, dark eyes flicking back to Shane from behind his glasses and staying on him, more or less. "{You are so pretty,}" he agrees shakily as the shouting from both sides reach a fever pitch. Shane's gills flap once again, then lie still. His eyes have gotten much larger, his hand a little tighter around Daiki's. Faced with rising agitation in both directions, he comes to a very brief halt, eying the formerly-friendly crowd where he'd initially been towing them. One quick recalculation later and he is just bulling them straight through in an attempt to just get to the other side of the street. "{This is getting a little worrying, man,} 'Who in here unintentionally gonna start a riot' doesn't scan right at all." Hands grasp and push at Daiki while they're stopped, but he shortly pulls away as Shane re-navigates them. He breathes more steadily and deliberately now, but his eyes are still quite wide. At Shane's words he laughs, brief and bright despite the continued clamoring from both sides. The sheer pressure of his power starts to lift incrementally. "I have faith in your musical ability." His hand squeezes Shane's back. "I'm not being a hero today. Here I thought I was coming to whisk you away." It isn't until they've finally broken free of the press of the crowd and are halfway across the street that Shane exhales a long and tremulous breath, his grip on Daiki's hand slacking but but releasing. "Ohh --" His voice is considerably less steady now than it had been in the tumult, his smile small and quick. "Maybe not how you planned it, but, you definitely got my heart fluttering."