#starcrises

Kara wasn’t the only one intent on keeping an eye from above. She found a rooftop corner tucked away from view, but for her it was easy to see past the obstacles to the crowd beyond. So far it was still calm, in the sense that no one had been violent, but she had a bad feeling that things were about to change.

There were too many things on her mind for her to be fully focused on her surroundings. This wasn’t her first return as Supergirl, but it might be the first return of any significance, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted. Eva and Lucy were safe. That was the most important thing. Everything else she needed to push aside. There would be time for it later.

The protest didn’t look chaotic enough to warrant so many police cruisers. MJ was a little confused to see it so packed, as if they were expecting violence, but she dropped off the bag of muffins and what was left of the Starbucks coffee with the cop patrolling the perimeter. She could see that the SCPD was trying to control the situation by being on both sides of the protest, but awkwardly squeezing by people waving signs with anti-mutant sentiments was really pushing her very limited tolerance.

lilith had been standing out the front of her apartment building, minding her own business when she saw the groups of people come barrelling down the streets. a riot had begun, something she wasn’t too shocked by, they weren’t the most uncommon thing in star city. the red head watched as the people ran past her, sighing as she turned to walk back inside her building.

as her back was turned to the crowd for a split second lilith felt someone grab a hold of her, a sharp object being held towards her throat. she took a deep and shaky breath as she tried to stay calm. “please ––– just let me go.” she stated quietly but the man didn’t budge and the girl could feel the blade pressing into her skin, red liquid trickling down her neck. 

lilith hated using her powers but in situations like this, she would allow it. the woman placed her hand on the mans arm, her eyes flashing back as she spoke. “you’re going to let me go, then you’ll turn around and walk away, you’re going to keep walking and you’re not going to stop until you can’t walk any further.” the telepath commanded before her eyes flickered back to their natural shade of green. once her compulsion had worked the man let her go, causing lilith to fall on the floor, her hand immediately coming to her neck. 

Both sides remained relatively peaceful, but the tension was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Those against NOVA and those that stood by their side demanded that the organization speak; Jihl was ready. She walked from the building entrance flanked by four armed guards, two on either side, with a small portable microphone in hand. At the sight of her, the crowds only grew more restless; some were cheered while others screamed for her arrest. She quickly scanned the assembled crowd before speaking.

“People of Star City. You wish to be heard and I hear you. NOVA hears you. Your presence here is a mixture of support and criticism, but we mean none any harm. Myself and other high ranking officials wish this to remain a peaceful demonstration. I can only apologize to those who feel that they’ve been let down by us; I promise that we will do better. NOVA is here for you, the people, put forward by your government and will remain so long as there are still people who need our protection. Our work is not done until we know that you can rest easy in your own homes and in your schools and hospitals. We are not an emeritus acquisition. Our time to take in those who need us and help th-” Jihl’s address was abruptly cut off as a familiar figure promptly flew from the crowd and assaulted one of their agents.

Peter Parker had been close by the protest, clad in his iconic suit in case things decided to go south, when he heard it. There were two words that Jihl had included in her speech specifically chosen just for him, in the hopes that NOVA’s secret weapon could be implemented to turn the tide in their favor. To anyone else those words would only sound like random Latin, something that was easily missed or forgotten, something just to spice up her address, but to Peter they unlocked the conditioning that NOVA had subjected him to just a month prior.

As quickly as those trigger words invaded Peter’s mind, the nearest NOVA agent within his sight was sent careening into one of the police barricades, thrown against it by a thick stream of webbing. Up until then both sides of the protest had been relatively civil, only sharing words of hate and fear instead of acts of violence, but once that first punch had been thrown, all hopes of a peaceful protest were dashed.

The sea of bodies around Peter erupted into absolute chaos.

She wouldn’t reveal it later, but part of her thoroughly enjoyed the part of all this that had her fighting on her feet. Sure, most of her time was spent separating people and defending bystanders as they got out of frays, but it was still a familiar, quite particular, constant flow of adrenaline. Truly the adrenaline was essential, as she was sure her legs would feel all this for a week to come. Babs had just been taking a moment against a building to breathe when the gunshots began. She crouched low, though her head stayed on a swivel as pandemonium broke out. Waves of people ran away from the shots, but Babs surged forward.

She tried to look for any familiarity, anywhere. Batgirl’s suit? No where. Some caped flying shape? Not when she could afford to look up instead of in front of her. A flash of black, or red, or green... anyone she knew could properly help. She cursed out loud as she pushes past a few people and, in a fit of frustration, actually steps onto an empty, already damaged sedan parked on the side of the street to avoid people for a moment.

It works. She crouches on low the hood and peers around all directions. Now, she sees a few familiar blurs... but her eyes zero in on a body being left behind by the hoard of people. The items on this body hold a familiarity you would recognize through anything, even if the figure before you seems wrong lying bloodied on the ground. It’s the clothes she’s hugged and and the shirt she’s cried into. It’s the hair she’s ruffled and the glasses she’s looked through... and suddenly the only thing Barbara wants in the world is to look into her father’s eyes, because she knows he’s there, on the ground, close relatively but so far through the sea of people. 

Pepper had wanted to check on Peter after his uncharacteristic outburst, but she couldn’t do that if she got herself trampled in the chaotic mob she found herself in. The redhead tried to backtrack the way she came, but she was so disoriented that she stumbled further into the crowd, towards the raging protesters that were using their signs as improvised weapons.

“Cassia, get Tony on the phone, now!” Thankfully, she kept Cassia’s earpiece in whenever she wasn’t at home, having found it was better to have the AI at her fingertips rather than try to scramble for her when Pepper needed her. As the sound of ringing filled her ear Pepper did her best to protect herself, not striking out, trying to mitigate the damage not escalate it.

Normally, the redhead was a composed individual, she kept her cool in high-pressure situations, but this wasn’t just a high-pressure situation, this was a violent mob where she had no way out. She was being pressed in on from all sides, her body shaking as she tried to push her way out. Pepper could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, her shaking getting worse as her breathing matched her racing heart.

The call to Tony connected just as she squeezed out between two protestors and stumbled into the downward swing of a broken picket sign, the handle coming down with a sharp crack! on her collar bone. Pepper’s scream was probably not the greeting Tony expected to hear, but it wasn’t as if she’d planned it that way. A wave of nausea overtook her chasing the pain, but she refused to be sick, now was not the time. “TONY!!” She called for the one man she’d always trusted, through their ups and their downs she knew that she could count on Tony to show up when she most needed him.

In all the chaos Pepper hadn’t realised she’d been stabbed in the side at some point, but the pain radiating out from the injury quickly overwhelmed the pain of a fractured clavicle. Unfortunately, when she reached to check how badly she was bleeding the movement strained the fracture, and she was dizzy with the pain of it, adrenaline the only thing that was keeping her on her feet. 

“Tony, now would be a really good time to break out that suit you told me you weren’t working on!” If she fell she wouldn’t make it— she was five-six and slender, she wouldn’t survive the crush of feet that would be sure to find her. She just had to hope that her assumption that Tony was still working on Iron Man was right, and that he was nearby.

Bryn had been planning on avoiding the protests. While it was true that she was a mutant and had a stake in the results of said protests being politically active had never really been her thing. She much preferred to keep to her tree and keep under the radar. As long as she kept her talons hidden with jewellry and her wings hidden under clothing she was able to pass as the eccentric French fortuneteller. 

Unfortunately for her staying under the radar wasn’t in the cards. Literally. Staring at her daily spread Bryn frowned, not willing to look away, as if the cards would change if she stared at them long enough. Eventually, a peregrine falcon hopped down from a higher branch to land on her shoulder and she sighed. ‘There is nothing good in the cards today, mon cher ami.’ The falcon gave her a look that needed no interpretation. She was going to have to get involved whether she liked it or not. 

While Bryn had chosen to reside in a tree she did, in fact, own possessions. Of course she couldn’t keep those possessions in the park and so she made friends wherever she roamed. Her friends in Star City she had actually met in France (they were half the reason she had come to the city in the first place), an older couple who owned a bookstore. She was fairly certain one of them knew actual magic, but she had never questioned them explicitly about it, preferring the mystery. That was where she went now, slipping inside The Lonely Hart with the key they had given her. 

Half-an-hour later she slipped out the back barefoot, face covered in extravagant gold make-up (because if she was going to make a splash she might as well do it right), and the suit her parents had had made for herself and her twin when they were nineteen. It was clingy, but the material it was made of stretched to conform to her movement and it was strong enough to help deflect some attacks— it wouldn’t stop a bullet, but it would maybe deflect a knife. The suit was white with gold accents (her brother’s had been black with silver) and not much of a back, her wings pressed flat to her torso so that she looked like she had a blue-edged blanket curled around her shoulders. 

When she arrived at the protests it was beyond chaos. It quickly became clear that she wasn’t going to get anything done. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone running at her, apparently noticing that those were wings on her back, but before the anti-mutant rioter could reach her Bryn had snapped a wing out catching the guy in the stomach and sending him head over heels. Not wanting to be pinned down the woman spread both wings to the fifteen-foot span and shot into the air with one mighty flap, creating a downdraft underneath her. 

As she rose in the air she twisted so that she could look down on the crowd, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the chaos, wings flapping steady to keep her aloft twenty feet in the air.