Elite Comic Universe PBP

The scene is solemn with the burnt, skeletal remnants of Taipei House and with pictures out front with flowers and memorials for the twelve people that lost their lives in the attack. There is still police tape up but people wanted to leave their well wishes.

There are plenty of mourners, soft tears, and a somber mood. There are also some investigators on hand looking for anything to help bring the perpetrator to justice.

Against the judgement of her agent and brand manager, Tsehay Moqe is on hand as well, looking on solemnly in her official capacity as an Elite hired by the city as a protector, and while she had success, she also had a failure and it seemed to weigh on her. At least internally.

Externally she as stoic.

Iris hated vigils, funerals, wakes, mournings. Really anything where people clustered together to mourn someone who should be alive.

But she couldn't get the proceedings days images out of her head (not an uncommon happening for the young elite) so she'd gone, and she'd even put on some nice(ish) formal(ish) clothes to do so.

Nobody had needed to die, maybe if she'd seen just a little further...or pushed Frankie into the ocean.

Now there was a pleasant thought.

Looking over at Tsehay she gives the elite a nod before turning her gaze back to the crime scene, zoning out slightly as she watched the investigators rooting through the destruction.

Galatea was there as well although she had not been on the scene at the time of the even. She wore a very simple medium gray long dress and stood a bit apart, not wanting to draw too much attention...even if she might end up with some.

She was here also to learn what happened
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Second form

Arturo watched from a distance. He wasn't hiding. He didn't want to be in the crowd. He could have stopped it. If he'd tried sooner, pushed harder, or used a different word. He'd bought a second. He would have paid anything for more.

Thousand Miles was in attendance, too, looking solemn. He didn't even have his cell phone out. It felt right to pay proper respects to those who had died in the explosion.

Dressed sharply and all in black, both a rarity for Camilo, he made his way to the waterfront for the vigil.

He was feeling particularly guilty this evening, having been chasing a buzz when the attack happened the evening before. If he'd been on the response, maybe he could've healed some of those people, at least one of them, any small bit of a difference would've been better than throwing one back.

All Camilo could do now was clean up and show up.

Bea attended the vigil, wearing a black church dress - modestly cut, the skirt reaching past her knees. No hat.

She brought a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers to place at the vigil, where others had placed flowers and other memories.

She knelt in quiet prayer for those lost and their friends and families.

She listened also for information. Was this another bomb from Steel Mosha? Something else? It was heart-breaking.

Maybe there would be a chance to help the community rebuild?

A man dressed in a fashionable clothing approached and placed down some flowers. He stood a moment over the memorial and then turned to join the crowd.

Tsehay Moqe formed and stepped forward and said in Amharic, “This is no place for you and your hateful rhetoric!”

“If your people were involved in this, Bishop, I will make you pay!”

He replied calmly, “I am just here to give respects to the dead in this senseless act of violence. Baseline and Elite deaths are all the same to me. A loss for the universe.”

The woman started to glow with solar light, becoming a mini sun of sorts as she considered her next actions.

Bishop said, "Is this how you want to honor them, with more senseless violence?"

Before coming into the city, the girl had no idea anything had happened. She didn't know the person, she didn't know anything about anyone that had been effected. However she was encouraged by Janet to go and see that people do care, and despite her feelings on the matter she decided to do so. She hadn't changed how she dressed though, still in her usual outfit and keeping her hood up.

She listened to what people said and how they acted with little emotion of her own under her hood; people die, it happens. Yet many here did care...

and then there was a standoff. She watched that with a little more interest to see what would happen. This would be more telling than anything else.

Galatea did not want to interfere. Not now. Not seeing the way this was going.

But she could help diffuse the situation, thus she needed to try.

She got closer and rested a gentle hand Tsehay's shoulder

"I do not know the nature of your strife...but people here are grieving and you know this. Salt on their wound is no medecine."

Someone in the crowd shouts in the local language, “Yeah, everyone knows it was Pantheon that did this! They are bigots and hate all baselines!”

Another person countered, “Hey that’s not true, that’s lies… stop getting your news from the mainstream, idiot!”

Galatea wrote: ↑

Tue Apr 15, 2025 7:59 am

Galatea did not want to interfere. Not now. Not seeing the way this was going.

But she could help diffuse the situation, thus she needed to try.

She got closer and rested a gentle hand Tsehay's shoulder

"I do not know the nature of your strife...but people here are grieving and you know this. Salt on their wound is no medicine."

“At last a sensible and rational voice,” Bishop agreed. “I came here to pay my respects to the lives lost not play politics or posturing.”

"And that you did, Mister Bishop." She gracefully moved in between the two, now facing the man

"I do not know the strife between you two but it is clear that it risks breaking the peace of the moment. Perhaps, forgive me for saying so, that it would be best if you would leave as courtesy for the grieving and the lost."

She pauses

"Noblesse Oblige, mister Bishop"

OOC: Persuasion check from Galatea, DC 15.

Galatea wrote: ↑

Tue Apr 15, 2025 8:42 am

Noblesse oblige, persuasion roll | 1d20+16 ⇒ 36

Bishop smiled and gave her a respectful nod, “As much as I would like to share a moment of solidarity, I have to agree with your insight. Tsehay Moqe, you have my condolences. Please think of the fallen, baseline or Elite; life is life and taking it should never be done lightly.”

“Good evening, Galatea,” and then he departed.