『 T I C K • T O C K 』

So he's analyzing his surroundings, taking note of who the hell to avoid and who he might be able to trust if enough sweet-talk is provided. He slips away from a detritus strewed road and...unceremoniously bumps into a young lady.

Steph laughed, casual as ever. Still, a present would have been nice. She wouldn’t complain or anything, but it sure was a damper on her Christmas cheer to buy all of her gifts herself. It made the city seem even lonelier, but she also doubted that a single present could change that.

He looked pretty happy she noticed his pun and that cheered her up a bit as well. Hopefully, he wasn’t another pun-loving villain and rather just a pun-loving citizen. One could hope that, at least.

Of course that doesn't make the situation any less insulting.

He almost feels, for lack of a better word guilty. No, he never feels guilt. That emotion has been washed out years ago. But apprehension? Maybe. Not easily attached to others, he still enjoys their company on an arbitrary level. The problem is, this city is so confined that it is likely difficult to hold secrets. At any rate, he hasn't played the role of villain -- yet.

temporalchaos

Guilt was never a good feeling, but turning to a wolf always has helped her, just trotting through the streets, her paws on the asphalt was a feeling she was all to familiar with. But ten minutes where finally up and she was back to being a ‘human’ once more.

“At least you’re not in chains Migru”

She spoke to herself as she smiled and began to regain her breath. At least she was not in chains. Nose to the air she began to sniff the air. Her senses where dulled in this place but it was alright. The Original Shapeshifter was just happy that she was given the wolf transformation. Though how they knew that was what she wanted, was something she would need to figure out.

Sensing the presence of another she would straighten herself as she reached for her imaginary sword, Noticing it was gone she smiled and merely stood straight looking around her, Anything in this place could be used as a weapon, she learned that early on in her life.

But sensing the other she would then toward the presence as she spoke in a harsh tone:

Perched against a low awning, he observes the citizens passing under with a critical eye. Few seem of interest to the time traveler, except for a singular lavender furred canine in the distance. As someone who knows all too well the consequences of genetic experimentation, the particular hues of the wolf in question are something even he hasn't seen before.

He blinks a singular time and the canine slips away, presumably down some alleyway though still in his vague direction. Digits release themselves from the guardrail, leaving only the faintest of indentations, before their owner merges into the shadows. Patient and nearly predatory, he leans against the building's wall, every bone in his body struck with tension.

When the next being to cross his path is a woman, he is a little disappointed. Surely, she would prove herself to be an interesting sort, but even so, his curiosity is left unfulfilled. Then again, she does appear to be similar to the wolf.

And, it appears as if she notices him. Oh, well.

temporalchaos

Blue skin? Out of all the survivors he had brought to his islands, not a single one of them had such strange skin color. Indeed, even the monsters and creatures who inhabited such a place didn’t have anything close to this hue. Maybe fur, but not skin color itself. And by the looks of this man… he looked like a scientist.

Oh, the experiences Maxwell had with scientists.

    He may have just found the perfect ally without even trying. Finally!

    But first, he has to showcase his worth. His eyes descend upon the manhole of which he has made his duty to defile. The dents are a bit wider than the head of the screwdriver, but not drastic enough to be a problem. With a few flicks of the wrist and a bit of patience (long overdue for this little man), the manhole is clean off. Jack would look up at the guy to check for signs of approval, but he wants to seem nonchalant.

As his belonging is returned to him, the time traveler's features twitch slightly. For a moment, his lips turn downwards as do his brows. Even with that in mind, nothing suggests a great amount of hostility or disappointment. His time may be ticking away after all, but evildoing doesn't happen overnight. The boy's still young after all.

❝Mm, well, perfect plans take time, don't they?❞ Oh, his patience may be running thin -- always -- but this is no doubt a curious scene. There is an ounce of promise in the boy, and even if there wasn't, a book isn't to be judged by its cover.

❝Ah? I am afraid that I have never heard of your affiliations. Considering the nature of us being brought here from different universes and points in time, this shouldn't be much of a surprise.❞ The name Wuya is familiar in the on-the-tip-of-the-tongue way, but his lips are sealed in that regard. Better do his research and see if the boy's credentials check out. ❝But with a name like Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius, you must have been impressive where you came from.

entropy (n)      lack of order or predictability      gradual decline into disorder

    Jack Spicer was just living a normal, evil life.

    A simple life in his simple basement with simple ambitions of world domination. He doesn’t like to complicate things. He keeps it short and sweet as a rule. Now, everything is bitter and perplexing and chaotic. He loves chaos, just not when it’s happening to him. It’s all fun and games until someone realizes that it’s not fun and games at all.

    The world which he once dedicated his life to dominate is no longer at his fingertips. He is left with an isolated city instead of a United States, a mere bag of rations instead of a pantry full of food, and a basement full of trash instead of a basement full of junk. There’s a very large difference. He doesn’t like it. To make matters worse, he doesn’t even have his toolkit with him, let alone his robots. He can’t start from scratch, and he can’t buy a new set. He’s practically stripped naked.

    His only weapons at the moment are a wooden staff— which hasn’t even been proven to work as it should— and the element of surprise.

    The surprise that is seeing a fourteen-year-old boy trying to remove a manhole from the street.

    [ ☢ ] “Dammit, there’s gotta be some wiring under this thing!” His fingers are too thick to get underneath it, but he still tries. Now that he leans back and actually looks at the thing, he finds that a screwdriver might help a little. He turns to the nearest passerby and casually asks:

Presented to him was a network of confidants and comrades, a brilliant scientific mind, machines of untold power, the ability to cause time paradoxes--! But now? He is nearly nothing. To be someone who once could bring mass hysteria with the flick of a wrist, but now possesses hardly more than the clothes on his back, it is indeed a frustration. Whether goal be to return home or to make this city his own, he has to start over from the ground up.

His allies are few. The only certainty is Seraphim, and even if the android can be molded to his will, they are an artificial being. But the others that he's met in this city are to be regarded with the utmost caution. There are far too many heroes in this damn city, though there is no shortage of villainy, either. He just has to find them. And they could be anywhere.

Like trying to mess with a manhole, for instance.

While it is a little peculiar, it isn't altogether surprising to see an urchin mess around with public property. Being from a world when one could attend an Academy of Evil as a young child, it isn't altogether strange meeting young supervillains. Being a student of Madame Amberly herself, the time traveler understood the importance of starting early, so to speak.

When asked about a screwdriver and subsequently given a reasoning, he smirks. ❝Entropy, you say?❞ His smirk widens upon hearing the ever familiar words on the boy's lips. ❝My, how could I refuse a reason to stir up chaos?❞

It is a good feeling, being useful to someone. To a scientist, a doctor like Dr. Margo.

[I presume you speak of the limitations placed by the city. Though I have always been able to override directives, I am unable to discern the nature of how said limits are implied. However, with sufficient resources, effective workarounds should not be extensively difficult. If I may, Doctor, what were you seeking to recover?]

It would be best to think about the problem as soon as possible, take time to assess the situation.

They come to a halt as he does, blinking once. It’s a superficial gesture- their eyes hardly need moistening or shielding- and yet one they are capable of, and find themselves performing now and then.

[There are many inconveniences and complications affecting the people of this city, as well as ineffective disaster responses causing undue loss of health and property. These are evidence of an inefficient civic system. Being able to connect to each and every facet of the city, I should be able to renovate this system for the better. Were I able to connect to the [CORE] I believe that I would be able to manage the limiters, when they are placed and when they are lifted.]

❝A shame, though I cannot say that I am surprised…❞ He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. His belief is firm that it is likely that their captors terminate anyone who knows too much. It is an inevitably in a society that is created under an ever watchful eye. ❝No matter… As a scientist, it is my duty to push the limits of what I can and cannot do.❞

A takeover of this city would be near impossible, particularly with cameras trailing every last inch of the city. A way of bypassing surveillance subtly is key. It is not as if there is a reason for the scientists to cut him down for owning machines.

He pauses, choosing first to digest the information given by the android. It would be prudent for them to cooperate and merge their purposes and goals. It would not be all too difficult; the manipulation game has been played before. Even so, he might not even have to resort to such cunning matters.

❝All I wish is to recreate my laboratory… my machines… In the long run, I wish to leave this city, as is expected of much of our population, but of course that would be a difficult feat to achieve. With you integrating your systems with that of the Core, this could be achieved. Then again, with you on top of things, I wonder if I would even want to leave?❞

He isn't bothered by Seraphim's inclination towards controlling the city more efficiently. Oh, they could certainly pose a threat, but with careful planning, they could be a more efficient ally. Though insidious in mindset, the time traveler questions the authenticity of these so-called scientists and their experimentation. Nothing speaks of logic, only laziness. Quite a waste, really. This city could use a proper scientist running the show.

But if someone arranged that, maybe someone could arrange for welcome baskets for everyone… It’d be a whole lot of work, though, but it might be worth it. Might make settling in at least the tiniest bit easier. And then people like you wouldn’t have to waste their time in convenience stores, so yay! But still… a lot of work. Even imagining the amount of work’s a little overwhelming.”

"Oh, it’s nice to meet you, Doctor! Wait… N. Tropy? Like entropy? Is that on purpose or…"

❝I'd assume there was no ill intent to be had from exempting you from this joyous occasion. You do not, at all, appear to be someone deserving of the 'naughty list'.❞ He doesn't need to add that if the Big Guy was the genuine deal, that he would have likely been slapped on that accursed list without a second thought. Good thing that the tradition of Christmas gifts is mostly reserved for young people. Bah! ❝For someone so welcoming, I cannot imagine.❞

”Adapt? What benefit would I have in adapting to such a place like this?”

But yes, what kind of question was that for? Why ask? Everyone wanted to leave. Didn’t they?

He speaks with a hum in his voice, attitude detached from the words spoken. He doesn't feel the same as those, but then again, his life was free enough before arriving here. It is nice enough not to worry about dying permanently, but regardless, he'd rather be back home, surrounded by his machines.