[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

“It’s funny, right?”

“Oh yeah. An absolute laugh riot,” Morgana drawled as they turned toward the door of the newspaper editor’s office with a new assignment in hand. Their sardonic response to the middle-aged man’s attempt at an inside joke aside, interviewing students and professors at UAU would at least make for an interesting afternoon. Morgana needed more of those. Especially the kind that didn’t end up with them dy-

“Oh. And Moriarty-san?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure to take care of that car. It’s a classic!”

---

The “classic” sputtered as it pulled into the visitor parking outside of the UAU campus grounds. Morgana killed the engine immediately just in case it got any ideas about catching fire. With their luck, security would think they were trying to attack the school. How likely was it that they’d believe Morgana’s boss had dug up a car over a century old that still worked (so far)? Morgana still barely believed it themselves.

They opened the door with a grating creak and slammed it after grabbing their bag from the passenger seat with the same disgruntled complaint of the internal hinges. There was a pause on Morgana’s end to see if the door decided that this was the end and fell off, but it stayed in place. Let’s hope my luck holds up at least half as well, they thought as they traversed from the car toward the buildings while fishing out their press pass and a file of dossiers from their bag.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf | Summer Event, Prompt 7

[lonewolf]

Mark had two modes.

The first was the unyielding desire to attempt to maim, injure, and altogether traumatize UAU students into quitting the hero course through the use of elaborate traps, improvised explosives, dummy gunfire, and inconspicuously placed gardening tools that when stepped on wrong caused the handle to shoot up and body someone. His attempts weren't working, but at this point it was a game: he got to push the boundaries of his creativity, and the students got to experience all kinds of horrors that would either desensitize them or make them hyper aware of their surroundings.

The other mode was doing anything and everything to get out of doing paperwork. Most of Mark's classes didn't require written work, though every so often he did have to make a test and issue it. It was boring and uninteresting and not practical. Grades didn't mean jack in the field, experience and muscle memory did. Look at him: barely had a high school diploma, and yet was an accomplished underground hero. In the US, at least. He was still wondering how he got this job.

Either way, this particular day he was in the second of the two modes. At least at this time: he had an exercise in two hours to run, but he was more interested in lounging about in this hammock on this warm and nice day. He had also set up near the visitor's parking lot, as it was the best place to catch a nap. That was, until he heard the sound of a junker crawl into a parking place. He groaned inwardly, looking down and out at the lot to figure out what was going on...seeing some woman get out and approach the gate he couldn't help but sigh. As she made it through and began to pass by he couldn't help but say, "You know, being a redneck mechanic and believing if something isn't broken you shouldn't fix it, I wager you might need to take that thing in for a tune up. Either that, or take it to the scrapyard to be put out of its misery." He squinted out at the machine again, leaning up in his hammock. "What is that, a...Binto?! Hang on, you guys had these things? That's such an unclassy car."

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

Morgana was rarely phased by anything. Having their borrowed ride roasted from a random hammock was no exception, but it was enough to make them stop and engage. “It’s a…” They looked from the person peeking out of their nap nest to the file in their hands. A true checks notes moment considering the file was both closed and not about the car. “...classic, thank you very much.” They shook their head as if offended, though the subtle curve of their mouth gave them away to anyone even a little observant. Morgana wasn’t defending the car’s honor so much as just being sarcastic out of habit.

In a gesture that required a far less keen mind to figure out they weren’t serious, Morgana waved their hand with the dossiers in the direction of the car. “Can’t scrap it though. Boss’ orders. So until it breaks and gets fixed on the company dime, I’m stuck with it. And as long as I’m here, you’re stuck with it too. Pity. Of course, you could help me get out of your hair a little faster and back to your nap if you answer a few questions for me.” They were inclined to hustle for two things on the regular—pool and interviews. Since there wasn’t a pool table here and Morgana was on assignment, they’d have to settle for the interview.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

"Classic pile of shit, maybe," he muttered, leaning back in his hammock and putting his hands behind his head. At the very least she seemed amused. "If you want someone to put it out of its misery, can always tow it out to the practice fields. I know a few students who could use the target practice."

And then the request to answer questions came. Either a journalist or an academic or both. He wasn't exactly thrilled to be in the presence of an inquisitive mind, but maybe, maybe if he chain rattled off a few answers she'd be disinclined to follow through with the ones that he wasn't keen on answering.

Maybe.

"Lone Wolf, yes I work here, I teach situational awareness and a little bit of gun safety, no I'm not inclined to talk about any cases I'm working on, yes I am from America, yes California is as awful as people claim it to be, no I'm not willing to talk about my work from there, and yes, I am indeed single. Hard to believe, but believe it." For added measure he threw a wink her way and shifted in the hammock, looking to get comfortable. "Did I get everything?" He'd shut his eyes, doing the one thing he told his students not to do which was assume. Assuming was bad, and had almost gotten him killed a few times.

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

As soon as Morgana had an inkling the man was about to indulge their request, they stashed the press pass in favor of the tape recorder in their bag and hit record. Morgana didn’t need it to remember everything said, but having tangible proof in their line of work that was more than just their word was almost always a necessity. It kept the defamation and slander lawsuits at a minimum.

One thing the recorder caught aside from Lone Wolf’s spiel was the clear sound of Morgana snorting. It wasn’t professional, but it was an appropriate response given what was said and to whom it had been said. “Pretty sure California being as awful as you claim is way more unbelievable than your relationship status.” Unlike with the car, Morgana was actually a little defensive about this one as a California native, but it was hidden beneath a tone that was part amiable and part amused as they softened the blow with an amendment.

“I’m sure it’s because a catch like you has such high standards for a partner though.”

Yeah. Right.

“But that’s not what I’m here to ask about. I’m doing a special report. One about Keiro no Hi.”

There was the root of their boss’ inside joke. Morgana was a seventy-five year old with the face and body of someone half a century younger. They were the elderly that should be honored that day, yet here they were interviewing someone that was basically a child in comparison. Granted, given what Morgana was about to say, they likely weren’t going to be the only one feeling old.

“T;dr? The appearance of Quirks led to Villains, and Villains led to Heroes. The average lifespan of all parties involved is declining. Meaning I’m here to ask questions of those who could now be considered senior citizens with this new standard. People like yourself, Lone Wolf.”

Cue shit eating grin.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

Mark opened an eye, training it on Morgana as he did his best to shrug. "They're awful when they try to take away my guns despite the fact that's literally my whole shtick. Not my fault my quirk can't summon Governator's impenetrable abs."

Jokes aside, it was better not to touch on the other thing as his approach to relationships was worse than his father's. Besides, he liked treating that as a bit more than anything else. That said, her investigation into the life expectancy thing, while interesting, didn't exactly apply to him. "I definitely agree on that front. It's been a minute since I've looked at stats, but the average life expectancy of your average hero is lower than the standard of the population of any given country. Minus places like Denmark or small nations like that. I'm sure there's a few old farts that would be willing to give you their thoughts."

He yawned, dismissing her grin as it definitely didn't apply to him. "I'm just barely older than the current senior class. While I have more experience than your standard grad, there are some folks here from the old guard who helped establish the new world order. Might wanna talk with them over me."

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

Morgana’s grin faded. Not because their jab didn’t seem to land, their confidence was as stalwart as they came, but because they hadn’t expected a member of UAU’s faculty to be so out of touch. It was worrisome considering he had a hand in shaping future law enforcement in addition to being part of it himself. But uninformed and uncaring members of such organizations had always been a problem, no matter when or where the timeline lens settled on history.

They rubbed the back of their head with the knuckles of the hand wrapped around the tape recorder to ease some of the tension settling there in place of the previous grin. “So lemme get this straight. You’re ragging on Cali because of gun laws, which don’t typically apply to law enforcement in the first place, while also having immigrated to a country with stricter laws?” Their arm dropped and they shook their head.

“The math ain’t mathing there, but I can let that slide. For now. What I can’t let slide is you being so uninformed in your position. I said the lifespans of all parties involved were impacted. That includes regular folks and the students you say you’re barely older than.”

Morgana waved the file they held in his direction. There wasn’t just info on the professors they could potentially interview on campus, but data backing up Morgana’s claims. Including obituaries. They didn’t need to pull out the one that jumped to mind as they saw it crystal clear in their memory—and right in front of them as it played out like a movie reel. There was a pause as Morgana relieved the moment of first reading the information along with the visible timeline that encircled the reenactment courtesy of their time-space synesthesia. Morgana shook their head to return to the present, though the flow of time still coated their visual senses as they walked toward Lone Wolf and his hammock.

“Like I said, you said you’re barely older than the students. Most don’t get much older than that. Some don’t even get that far. Such as Mei Lien. Hopefully the name sounds familiar to you. She was a student here. One that died recently. Twenty-one years old. And she isn’t an anomaly or an exception. She’s part of a new trend in victims of increasingly violent crime and equally violent crime stopping that isn’t isolated to Heroes and Villains or restricted by country borders.”

There was another pause for Morgana to take a breath as they leaned against the tree closest to Lone Wolf. “That means people your age and up are becoming the exceptions. The anomalies. Why? I intend to find out eventually, but as for why I’m not rounding up the even rarer older generation… I just happened to find you first. So what’s the secret to making it this far?” Morgana had their suspicions on why some Heroes made it to their so-called Golden Years, but that was another matter entirely. Unless the man they were talking to happened to be more of a cowardly lion than a lone wolf.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf | Mei referenced with Matsu's permission.

[lonewolf]

Mark couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Believe me, the laws here are crushing. I have to do an audit every day on any expended rounds, I can't carry some of my bigger guns with me in the field, I can't make my own ammo and have to rely on a support manufacturer to get what I need...suffocating. If I didn't need UA's resources I'd go back home on the range, no pun intended."

The mention of Mei brought down the mood almost instantaneously. He let out a sigh, looking up at the sky. "Multiple students were involved in that incident, along with many others that transpired that day. While I am proud that many of them stepped up to the plate, it was stupid of them to do what they did...lotta them got hurt." He didn't know many of his students personally, and that was a major point he built this teaching thing on. Don't get attached. Made his life easier.

"I still don't think I'm a good fit for this article you're looking to write," he says, scratching the side of his nose. "I, quite literally, come from a small town world that don't make you count bullets or restrict quirk usage to professionals and anyone else with a license. Data points to a lower life expectancy, sure, but I couldn't tell you why. I could spout theories at you all day long, but could boil down to the also large uptick in vigilante justice. 'If not me, then who? If not now, then when?' That whole jumble of crap that I tend to stay out of."

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

There was a brief urge to tilt the hammock just enough to make the subject of Morgana’s questioning spill out onto the ground below. His response to their point about Japan being even harder on gun usage when compared to California did little besides prove Morgana right and frustrate them because it didn’t explain why he had made the move to someplace worse than Morgana’s old stomping grounds if the latter was so bad in his opinion. As much as they wanted to keep grilling him on that, work took precedent. Even if he didn’t think he was a good candidate for the interview.

“Well, that’s why I’m the journalist. You might not think your opinion matters much on the subject, but it’s my job to get the story from all sides. Or at least as many sides as possible. Plus, if you still don’t think you fit the bill…”

Morgana’s eyes roamed across the campus until they spotted a suitable target. Two students, judging by their uniforms, were walking from the nearby student parking lot. Given that one had their eyes glued to the paper clutched tightly in their hands and the other was glancing around like they were lost, it was a safe bet that they were freshmen. One sharp whistle later and the pair were looking in Morgana’s direction. “Hey, come here,” they called out to the students. The two looked at each other nervously, but ultimately trotted over. “I know this is totally random, but how old are you two?”

“Um… eighteen?”

“Are you… not sure about that?”

“No, I am! I’m just not sure why you’re asking.”

“You’ll see. What about you?”

“Seventeen! I graduated early and…”

“I don’t think she wants to hear your life story.”

“They.”

“Oh! Sorry!”

“All good. And graduating early is pretty impressive. No reason not to brag a little bit. Now for why I asked y’all how old you are. At what age do you think you’ll start to feel old-old. Like, old person old?”

“Don’t your cells like, start to die faster than they renew when you hit twenty-five? So like… twenty-six?”

“That’s what I thought.”

Morgana looked over to Lone Wolf then back at the students. “You two want to take a guess how old this teacher is?” The shit eating grin was back.

"Oh no..."

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

For the briefest of times, Mark thought he had finally gotten the journalist off his back. Briefly. Apparently this woman, person, whomever was merely bringing backup. And the topic at hand was, unfortunately, science. This was yet another reason why he was glad he never became an academic, filling his head with useless information across the spectrum that he was never going to need outside of Chemistry and the Mols of Hate.

So, holding up a finger, he took a breath and first pointed it at the students. "First of all, I ain't old enough to be either of your daddies, therefore I'm as spry as a spring chicken." The idiom was going to fall flatter than the potential implications with that statement, and he'd already gotten on Iphi's bad side with his jokes. Either way, cat was out of the bag and it wasn't going to change his level of professionalism. "Second," he says, pointing back to Morgana, "Just in the past six months alone I've had to chase down three separate goons on foot, tank a cannon shot from fifty feet away, and in one instance got tossed through two walls. If I was as old as you think I am, I'd be happily sitting behind a desk with a full-leg support and sporting eyeglasses." Yeah, that outta show her.

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

Morgana chuckled. They were the only one of the three circling Lone Wolf to do so. The other two looked grossed out. Either by the idea of him being their father or by him being a daddy in the other sense. Whichever option it was, it was enough to send them scurrying off on their way to class. If they could find it. Morgana, on the other hand, looked anything but defeated and remained put.

“Just proving my point that you must have a secret to making it this far. Especially if you’re up to all that. So either you’re lucky or you’re good. Maybe both. Seems like it’s definitely taking both these days to stay six feet above ground. But since it is a day for respecting your elders and I’m pestering you with my questions, why don’t I treat you to lunch? You can eat in between answers. And if I like those answers, I’ll even buy you dessert. How’s that sound?”

They could write it off as a business expense. And if Morgana treated themselves a little too… well, they were actually the elder here. The holiday was technically for them.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

Mark wasn't inclined to accept the invitation. But then again he hadn't eaten anything today. He looked at one of the anchors for his hammock, and determining that it would fine by leaving it here he stood up, sighing. "Alright, I'll bite. While I insist I ain't that old, I'll humor you and tell you my secrets. Fair warning, if I don't like a question, I'm obligated to give you a smartass answer."

He held a thumb out, indicating a building across the campus. "Common buildings over there, should be plenty of space for a talk. Fair warning, the apple pie isn't up to par. Not awful and can easily be remedied with some whipped cream." He turned to start heading that way, putting his hands in his pockets. "Who do you work for again?"

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

“I’d expect nothing less,” Morgana said in response to the man’s counteroffer for his answers. He had already been doing that. As long as the replies weren’t, “no comment,” then Morgana could work with that.

Their eyes followed the gesture toward what Morgana assumed was the university’s dining hall. Another memory tugged Morgana out of the moment and they were briefly submerged in their own past experiencing the midday food rush on the Berkeley campus. Morgana shook it off. Long strides helped them catch up to Mark.

“Day job is writing for Sentinel Independent Press. Work on the side for Nazur P.I. in my freetime though. Sort of. They kind of go hand-in-hand.”

Both involved a lot of snooping.

“Pity about the apple pie. It’s a classic. Reminds me of holidays back home. Won’t say no to extra whipped cream though.”

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

Mark nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as they carried on to the commons. He wasn't sure he liked that combination, PI with journalism. Granted, there could be some benefits with that; research a case, and in the process uncover a potential scandal here and tell the people about it, secure funding to continue with investigation, close the case out, report on follow-up proceedings...but then again the idea of that was grating because of the amount of work that involved. Not just any work, but double work. Which sucked. Plus, if you got something wrong then you'd be double fucked. No thanks, he'd rather stick to operating in the background.

Once inside, and the pair was situated, Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, looking around the room. He situated himself in a manner to take in as much information as possible about his surroundings, a bit of paranoia that he brought with him from some of the rings he had broken up in the past. "Suppose I should come out and say this, but I don't have a quirk. That's part of the reason why I'm alive and well today." A blatant lie, but one of the few he liked to tell people. It made him even more unassuming to those around him. "As you can see, I don't wear any kind of major uniform. I blend in with your average person. At least, as average as possible. It's harder to blend in here than it is back home, for multiple reasons unrelated to the topic at hand."

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

“Bold claim,” Morgana retorted from across the table where the pair had taken their respective seats. The lie slid by for now. “Most people would say they’re alive because of their Quirks.” Morgana chief among them for obvious reasons. At least to themselves. “Some even say that the Quirkless have no place among Hero rosters because they’re a liability and a burden to those that do have Quirks or a drain on tech resources to compensate. Too weak to compete is a slogan popular among anti-Quirkless organizations.” The slogan and the groups that used it had been around since Quirks initially surfaced. Morgana had even covered a few of them for her thesis back in their own college days.

“Not my perspective on the matter, mind you.”

They had spent their youth, however many years that had lasted in defiance of the “natural” order, fighting against bigotry of all kinds. “Definitely agree with you on the average factor though.” Blending in had saved Morgana’s backside more than once. Granted, it might have come off as them confirming that Mark was, in fact, average.

“You want to elaborate on how your lack of a Quirk helps?”

Mark hadn’t painted himself as an elaborating type so far, but Morgana could hope.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf