Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Yep!" Writ was genuinely excited of the whole prospect. He took out the baked potato that was in his fridge and opened it a quick sniff. The smell wasn't that bad, but it was definitely a week or two it's expiration date. He took a soft scoop with his hands and popped it in his mouth. Want not waste not. He washed his hands and went over to his bed.

He gave Vale a look, "What? I'll have you know I've eaten much worse."

Writ took his duffel bag of fireworks from under his bed and threw it to Vale, "It looks like a good chunk of the zone is there."

He pulled a white t-shirt off of his headboard and changed from his poncho to something a little more civilian. He opened the ketchup packets and ripped them open, then he gingerly put them between his waist and jeans before putting the whole setup underneath his shirt.

"Yell really loud and sound really angry. With that accent, you'll pull it off fine." Writ closed the door behind him and locked the door, "Just follow my lead."

As they walked up the stairs, Writ gave Vale the cherry bomb, when we get to the third rooftop, light up the paper and toss it in the alleyway behind us. Hopefully it'll catch the fuse." Writ burst out the door and ran ahead, "See you there!"

Writ turned around for a second, "I know! But when you're dealing with things like this, it helps."

So Writ dashed down. He hoped Vale wouldn't light the bomb too soon, he wanted enough time to get these guys riled up. He took out the bottle rocket out of his pocket and looked down on the crowd. Well, he never exactly used his power on so many people before. If the Great Spirit did make him any more powerful, well, he was going to take that promise to the test.

He laid the bottle rocket on the ledge and lit it up. With a spark the rocket whistled high in the air, exploding with a nice loud pop to grab everyone's attention.

"Hey!" Writ yelled down to the crowd, "HEY!" It didn't seem like one bottle rocket in the air was doing the trick. Writ took another one out of his pocket. (He said he'd only use one for show, but even foolish tricksters like Writ always had a backup plan.) So he held this one in his hand, and aimed a slight forty-five degree angle downward. Of course he wasn't aiming at the crowd, at least he made sure he wasn't aiming for anyone in particular.

Another bottle rocket exploded in the streets, and Writ was rewarded with a few surprised yells and screams. From the center people turned their heads up and like a ripple in a puddle, they all began to see what was trying to get their attention. He swore he could hear their necks snapping upward. He definately heard the click of guns as the Blacksuits aimed them at him. Writ smiled. Now he got their attention. His hands curled up into a fist as he tried focusing his black aura on the crowd- to provoke them. Unfortunately, from what he knew right now, he could only bring attention to himself, and the focus of that anger would be all on him.

"Glad I got your attention ladies and gentlemen!" Writ yelled to his audience, "I bet you're all thinking, 'who is this crazy kid and what is he doing on this rooftop?'"

"No, we're wondering why the ******** did you launch a bottle rocket at Steve!" Someone shouted back.

"Hey! I wasn't aiming for anyone!"

Another person yelled out, "Say sorry you jerk!" There was a general agreement among the crowd.

Writ threw his hands up, "Fine! Fine! Sorry! Geez!" After that, everyone began to lose interest.

"Heyheyhey! WAIT!" Writ's grip on his aura grew tighter, it was starting to work "Who here's pissed off right now?!"

"I am!" Steve yelled, "That rocket nearly shot my eye out! Son of a b***h!"

"Anyone other than Steve!" Writ rolled his eyes. Crowds were harder to manipulate than he thought.

The crowd murmured, then some scene-girl piped up, "I am!"

"You there, in the red shirt" Writ pointed down at her, "Why are you pissed?"

"Because I can't get home and watch Gossip Girl with my girlfriends!" She whined, apparently not one of the many Steve sympathizers in the crowd, "These stupid suit guys won't take my ID!"

"They wouldn't let you through?" Writ heard Vale approaching him, "Hell, my friend Mike has a little girl just a block away from here, and she's probably wondering when her daddy will get home to tell her a bedtime story!"

He pulled Vale over and displayed him to the crowd, "Here he is! Tell all these people here why you can't tell your little girl bedtime stories tonight!"

Writ gave Vale a look. Follow. My. Lead.

Whether or not Writ put Vale on the spot intentionally for the good of the trick, he didn't show. He took back the spotlight after his friend's little speech, playing the angle,

"And I hear all the babies down this street, crying for their mothers and fathers who can't get home because this... this... 'Mutant Investigation Bureau' says it's too dangerous walk these streets! Who the ******** are these guys and what's their business, keeping us away from our loved ones? They-"

BANG

The Cherry Bomb exploded, and Writ took the cue. He press downed on his stomach, a shocked look on his face. He staggered back and knelt down, looked down on his hands. The dim streetlights made it seem like Writ was bleeding from his stomach. In reality, there was a particularly nasty looking ketchup stain on his shirt.

"They shot me..." Writ said, just loud enough for the crowd to hear, then louder, pointing a "bloodied" finger over to the Blacksuits, "THEY SHOT ME!" With a final breath, Writ fell over, face first- and died. "Died" being a relative term, of course.

Then the crowd went haywire. A wave of people collapsed on the barricade as the mob of angry, rightous Downer dwellers rained down upon the Blacksuits. The suits shoot, Writ knew. People could be killed in the struggle. But if the Blacksuits were true to their part, they wouldn't. It was bad enough they had to show their face to the public, it would be even worse to tarnish their image.

"Vale" Writ muttered, his face still on asphalt, "Drag me back to my apartment, will ya?"

Writ played the part, even when Vale kicked him. If he was mad at him, it was best that he got out of the way now. He laid at the door, and giggled. A giggle that evolved into a full blown laugh. He got up and unlocked the door, racing over to see his handiwork. An angry mob was currently breaking down the blockades and beating on the Blacksuits. And all Writ had to do was light a few fireworks and say a few words.

"Well Vale, here's how I see it." Writ said, jumping onto his bed, lying there with a satisfied look on his face, "I just saw the cafe I lived in all my life filled with monsters, I just saw the parents that I was raised by be questioned by them" Writ pointed at Vale, his tone turned serious, "and believe me, I'll do anything to keep them away from my family. Even if it means drawing attention to myself. Doesn't that work for you? They know who we are, and they know where we are. They won't get anywhere near our families if they're after us."

He wasn't that much of an idiot.

"Still, that was a good trick." Writ smiled, back to his lighthearted, magnificent b*****d self.

"Well, I suppose they'll come to you either way. Guess you'll have fun with that." Writ shrugged, it wasn't like he was a mind reader. Besides, Vale was a grown-up, he could take care of himself.

"Since when were gods subtle? Who gave you those ears, that tail? Your eyes?" Writ's ears flicked up, "If the gods aren't subtle, why should we?"

"I dunno. You feel like it?" Writ wouldn't mind a repeat performance, but first, a look back on a job well done. He went up to the window and watched the mob unfold, people running back home, and others keeping the fire of rebellion burning.

"Well, those blockades aren't going to break themselves." Writ smiled, he stood up and walked to the kitchen. He pulled a tomahawk from his kitchen cabinet and looked down at the fleeing Blacksuits from his window. He smiled, bring it on blackies! You'll know soon enough what happens when you mess with gods!

"Time to take back this city."