#echodolia

eyes immediately widened, bright blue saucers staring at echo before she stood up from her desk to glance outside to the hallway and close her door -- she didn't need anyone getting IDEAS... invisigal could be anywhere and mandy REALLY didn't need that rumor spreading through the cubicles.

"no -- jesus christ!" said on an exasperated exhale followed by a baffled laugh. blonde blazer turned, back resting against the door frame before she pushed herself off to travel back to her desk. "we aren't a CULT. we are a company -- and not even, like, an MLM so..." bridge of her nose pinched between forefinger and thumb, legs taking her to lean back against her desk. sitting behind it felt somehow... claustrophobic right now.

"and we're not one of those 'here's a pizza party while we pay you like crap!' kinda company too. seriously -- are people saying we're a cult? is it sonar? because he has a little bit of nerve coming from silicon valley..." a bit nervous, murmurs almost under her breath. the last thing she needed was yet another morale drop. shit.

"That... was a lot of goo."

She's too gobsmacked to even keep the affect up, clothes drenched but lungs thankfully clear of whatever- whoever?- the hell that just was. Xue, nez Sickle, nez Maniac, rolls a shoulder and grimaces to herself as she flicks some kind of indistinct glop off her hands. It could've been a lot worse. This stuff could be acid, or make her trip out like the other kind of acid, or...

Her expression brightened so fiercely it could have rivalled the sun itself, all warmth and radiant enthusiasm. And who could blame her? Someone was actually asking about her powers—of course she was thrilled.

“Call me Solar! Actually, ‘babe’ is fine! Oh! Oh—what about Solarbabe… Solarbae? Wait, no, someone would definitely not approve of that one…”

She caught herself spiralling and gave her head a quick shake, refocusing before she launched in properly.

“Right! Okay! So my powers come from me. Totally generational, by the way. My whole family’s been #sunblessed for, like, ever. But I’ve also got this handy little thing called a solar crystal. It stores extra sunlight for me—charges up whenever the sun’s out—and it’s super helpful when I’m in a pinch.”

She tapped the emblem on her suit. Nestled at the centre of the sun-shaped design, the crystal pulsed with a soft, otherworldly glow.

“So far,” she continued, “I haven’t hit a hard limit on how much energy I can generate, but the more solar stuff I throw around, the more tired I get. It’s literally draining sometimes. But I’m basically a big rechargeable battery—give me some sunlight and I’ll be good to go again!”

Secondary abilities, though—that was uncharted territory. Not because she couldn’t, but because she’d never tried. When you’re born into a family who specialises in one type of power, it’s easy to focus on perfecting that instead of experimenting.

“Hm… I will say the hotter the weather is, the more energised I feel. When the sun’s shining I swear I could do anything!” Did that count as strength enhancement? Hard to say.

“You know… I bet I could do something illusiony with mirrors and stuff. I can already make shapes with light, and I can glow like a human torch if I want! Comes in real handy when it’s dark and you can’t see shit.” she clasped a hand over her mouth, looking sheepish. “Sorry for swearing! I don’t know where that came from.”

@echodolia has an assignment !

She didn't mean to make a 'short' joke, and it does take her a few seconds to realize she did... but when she does? ❝ Heh. Fuck, I'm good. Sorry! But - Y'know, kinda dogged you there. ❞

Logan's been around the block once or twice. Maybe more than that. (Definitely more.) He's seen generations of heroes rise, fall, and crash through all manner of things that probably weren't meant to be crashed through. He's had a hand in training a good many of them, too. For all his talks of being a loner - however often he tries to make it true - it always works out that way.

That's why he's not really surprised when SDN reached out to him.

He wasn't going to ask how they knew his number; someone in their ranks was probably an old pal or an old student and passed it along. He didn't give a shit. Didn't matter in the long run. Not when the prospect they presented him was so interesting.

Might just be your toughest assignment yet, they'd said, and only doubled down when he'd snorted in disbelief. It might be more than they can handle, they'd warned, and he told them to fuck off. He's the Wolverine, he can handle anything. Fucking anything.

This wasn't what he was expecting. A trainer. A trainer, for washed-up villains looking to turn their lives around.

What the fuck?

Sure, he believed in second chances - that's the only reason he was who he was - but still. And his dumb ass had already signed the contract. The barbs come over the headset and he rolls his eyes, glancing around to see how quick he'd get caught if he broke the no-smoking rule. Probably not worth it.

if there's one thing mani despises, it's leaving things to chance. they're a thinker. A TECHNICIAN. they see a machine and can name off the top of their head all the parts it's made up of. they tip their weight further back in their chair, arms folded tight across their chest, an expression of utter constipation scrunching their face.

the best of ron swanson prompts

"And you bring that up... why, exactly?" The statement garners little heat, appealing to the wrong crowd. No interest was kindled in what name she'd land on to refer to him by, precedent long since set, though he was reasonably certain that wasn't the purpose of her words. After all, the entire floor of the office building that Miguel currently occupied had, up until this moment, been deathly quiet, all trace of daily activity disturbed... by a man looking to acquire a lot of cash, in a short amount of time.

With his activities interrupted, he slammed shut a drawer that he'd been picking through to step back and face the newcomer, regarding her presence with a disdainful look. Were he a betting man, especially given the timing, he'd wager she had arrived to curtail his spree, representing SDN, or perhaps anybody that still paid respect to the laws of the land. Funny how that worked out, huh.

Battle Theme: Dance with the Dead - Psycho Disco

Battle intro: “This is it for you. Emilia, Sin Eater, whoever the hell you are. You were my friend. I trusted you, I liked you, I let you into my life like I’ve never done with anyone else. But you came after my city. My people. My friends. And now I’m going to make sure you never hurt anyone else like you hurt me. Ever. Again.”

Victory: “It takes a real idiot to come after me on my own turf… and now you’re a dead idiot.”

Defeat: “Em- Emilia, wait, please, I-“

Taunt: “You can’t do ANYTHING to me! Just DIE ALREADY!”

Reacting to taunt: “I should’ve believed you when you told me who you were the first time!”

Perfect Victory: “You’re pathetic. You want people to think you’re a monster, but really? You’re not anything at all. See you never.”

Final Finisher: “Is this what you wanted? Well, here it is! ULTIMATE! PSYCHOOO- MAELSTROOOM! Get the hell up, you lying snake!”

"Haaa- yeah, whatever. Actually- I did have a pretty good year... better than last year, anyway. Last year was rooough."