Matt Murdock

          It took her a moment to laugh seeing as she wasn’t expecting a blind joke…but, hey, if anyone was allowed to poke fun at it, it was him right?  “Pretty sure I won’t put down it in those words,” she replied with a grin, reaching out to shake his hand.

           At his next comment, Kitty made a face and, of course, it took a moment of no response before she remembered that - duh, Pryde - he couldn’t see.  This was totally going to take some getting used to.  “Me neither.  I mean, media stuff?  Sure, piece of cake.  But politics?  I got enough of that for one lifetime.”  Put it this way—she was so super done with politics until Senator Kelly got booted out of office.  And even then her whole opinion on the thing had soured some, to say the least.

             He chuckled lightly after she spoke, sensing that even his radar sense had failed to inform him of some facial expression that had occurred during the lull. “Kind of the opposite problem with me. I enjoy politics just fine. We’re either going to make a great team or bore the hell out of each other.”

> CALCULATING location   >> location: 40°45′45″N, 73°59′36″W (40.7625, -73.993333) > LOCATION DETERMINED > QUERY hell’s kitchen;    > hell’s kitchen: also known as clinton and midtown west,      is a neighborhood of manhattan in new york city located      between 34th street in the south, 59th street in the      north, eighth avenue in the east, and the hudson river      to the west; the area provides transport, medical, and      warehouse infrastructure support to the midtown manhattan      business district. . .   >> ERROR query interrupted

Jaime gave a sigh as he forced a shut down on Khaji Da’s automated interjection of what place they were in, but at least he had confirmation of his location now. A stream of concerned statements were shot at him from the scarab, but he chose to brush them off as he hovered above an apartment building. “Just find Matt, would'ja?”

> host speaking to unknown "matt"; evidence indicates "matt" is SUBJECT 79301 > create new entry? Y/N   >> Y > CREATE NEW OBJECT subject 79301; accepted alternative input "matt"

Jaime waited as his bioscanners skimmed the area as he slowly turned his head across the cityscape. His stomach grumbled at him and made his concentration get interrupted . The name ‘Hell’s Kitchen’ always made him think of pizza for some strange reason. It must’ve been called Hell’s Kitchen for a reason, right? He’d get Matt to show him where they could get food soon enough. The temptation to just walk down the street and find one was strong, but he really needed to find his friend first. He zoomed off down the street as he ran another scan though it came back negative for signs of Matt in this area. He dropped down onto the street itself and looked around. “You're sure this area’s got his readings?” He questioned his AI and took a glance around. “I don’t see him–a blind guy’s not supposed to be very good at hiding.” The teen went to go rub the back of his neck though it was covered in armor.

He considered searching the nearest apartment buildings, but readings showed that while Matt might’ve been here–there wasn’t enough to prove that he was here at the moment. Wings being redeployed, he pushed off the ground and made his way down to the other side of the neighborhood. Khaji Da’s sensors began to pick up something close by in the way of Matt’s readings. He saw a flash of  something out of the corner of his eyes and descended a tad lower to get a better look before realizing it was gone. “Did you see that?” His eyes scanned over the people walking the streets to find none of them were the one he was looking for at the moment.

{ Tнιѕ ѕcαrαв lαcĸѕ тнe αвιlιтy oғ ѕιɢнт. Bιoѕcαɴɴerѕ ѕeɴѕe тнe preѕeɴce oғ “Mαтт” ιɴ тнιѕ αreα. }

“This scarab needs to stop sassing me.” Jaime murmured with backlash from Khaji only a moment later. His wings brought him down into an alleyway where he could dearmor and emerge onto the sidewalk without bringing too much attention onto himself. He dodged past a couple and tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked toward an apartment building. It was already weird that Matt wasn’t back at that place he’d originally met him in. He’d checked all around that area, chatted with a few people, but got no definite answers out of any of them. Well, at least he could investigate the area where Matt had supposedly never really explored outside of. If there was one thing he’d already learned about this place—-it wasn’t as impressive as Matt let on to be.  Then again, how much did it take to impress the guy who couldn’t see anything? … Well, probably more than one would expect, all things considered.

He listened as Khaji Da told him to go into the apartment he was approaching with piqued curiosity. “This place looks almost run down…” He mumbled as some punk shouldered him in passing. He turned slightly and glared for a moment as if burning a  giant hole in the back of the dude’s head before returning his attention to the strange building. He’d seen something running over here earlier, but it wasn’t Matt. Jaime sighed, willing to indulge his scarab’s obviously faulty bioscan by investigating. He glanced from side to side before pushing his way in the front door, trying to appear as  casual as possible. “Are you sure you even know which Matt I’m talking about? There’s probably about a million of them in New York alone—- no don’t you run a scan to fact check me.”

He couldn't sense the ground; his internal radar didn't extend that far. He could hear the people below, talking about the things they disliked, about the people they surrounded themselves with, about food and money. Their heartbeats had personalities of their own; strong, slow, fast, light, the murmurs, the wheezes, the healthy, the even, and the anxious and lying.

Matt rolled across concrete and stopped upright and crouched. He listened, to the collective heartbeat of the city-- his city. The scent of its breathing... and the punching stench of piss in the alleyway mingled with the diluted warm odor of the bakery one block farther. Matt tilted his head, breathing everything in slowly.

He rested like a lone gargoyle, tilting his head curiously, gradually letting in the sounds. Most of them he had blocked out, a necessity for sanity. 

One in particular caused him to start and jerk his head in its direction, inhaling sharply. It was a familiar series of hums and whirs and yes... the voice... that he had come to recognize as the boy only identified as ‘Blue Beetle’. Matt listened for a while, toning out the rest of the city to listen to armour retract and the sudden rushing sound of blood vessels and the occasional uneven tick they experienced as a foreign electronic current cut too close and made them twitch.

Matt cocked his head and listened to the heartbeat, before he suddenly realized Blue was asking about him. He stood immediately and ran across the roof ledge, flipping off into open air, catching a fire escape rail as he plummeted past it, swinging around and onto it with a clang, then vaulting off again through a broken gap and slid the rest of the way down a girder and into a pile of trash bags.

He telescoped out his traveling cane and picked his way out of the uneven footing. It surprised him that Blue had chosen to randomly look for him in Hell’s Kitchen. He was only here on spring break himself, and the Kitchen wasn’t exactly three buildings.

Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap. He worked his way through the streets at a brisk pace, mercilessly whacking anybody that didn’t get out of his way fast enough. Blind man on a mission here.

When he located the sound of the heartbeat he was following he grinned and made a show of sniffing the air. “Hey, loser.”

                      “Now I’d like to know if what I walked into was anything from a                     recording session to a radiological hazard."

Battle intro:

Victory:

Defeat:

Assist:

Taunt:

Reacting to Taunt:

Flee:

Reaction to Flee: 

Tie:

Perfect Victory:

Utterly defeated:

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No OOC drama.

This is set at a nondescript bar.

Also set in an AU verse from the last few episodes of AOS.

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