[lonewolf]

There were few things in this world that irked Mark more than the promise of apple pie and failing to deliver.

It took him a good five minutes after Morgana had left campus to realize that they didn't deliver, and boy was he irritated. There was no sense to make a move, not yet. He had work to do, and there was no sense in chasing them down until he had an opening. In the meantime, he could do a little investigating on his own. In the time he took to do his digging, the article came out, and well...it wasn't what he expected. It was weird, seeing this side of him in black and white, especially compared to the brief mentions he got back home, but that was neither here nor there. After a while, he decided to just call her investigation agency and ask where she might be found. He of course got the run around, but after explaining who he was he seemed to get what he wanted. And after being told where she was that particular day, he did get a warning that they were on the job. To him that was perfectly fine; a stakeout was just a way to observe and document suspicious circumstances, people, businesses, and the like. He would be harassing them, but based on the location he was content to be able to get what he wanted without much issue.

The stakeout was taking place in a café, a well to do one at that. He didn't know the details of Morgana's quarry, but it ultimately didn't matter to him. And once he spotted them, he made his way over and sat across from them, interlocking his fingers. "You might find this hard to believe, but I am understandably pissed." He of course kept his volume down, not wanting to draw too much attention to their conversation.

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

“I’m working,” Morgana said from behind the newspaper they were pretending to read. The very newspaper that had the article about Lone Wolf printed in it. “But I’m guessing you knew that if you found me here.” They lowered the newspaper to look at Mark pointedly in the way investigators do before adding, “Unless you were lying about being Quirkless and you can actually track people down via a Quirk.” Then they laughed.

“Kidding. Bossman gave me a heads up that some cranky fellow was heading my way. Figured it was you. Still, I didn’t think that the article I wrote painted you in such a bad light that you’d hound me about a retraction. Not really my policy to print one when I have consent and audio proof though, so sorry about your luck.”

Morgana hadn’t forgotten about the pie that motivated the Hero to track them down. They were incapable of forgetting. Even when they wanted to and there was certainly plenty more things besides skipping out on a promise of dessert that Morgana would have gladly forgotten. As it were, they simply didn’t think the pie was as big of a deal as the news article now staring up at the both of them from the pages spread on the table next to Morgana’s coffee.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

"Oh, I ain't here 'cause of the article," he says, leaning back a little as he draped an arm over the back of his chair. "Though, after reading it I do think I let my gums flap a little too much. That ain't on you, that's a me problem. No, I'm here to collect on a promise."

He held up a finger, pointing it in their direction. "You made a promise to get me pie, and you failed to deliver. And before today's over I'm gonna get you to collect." He reached out to make an effort to get her paper, again not aggressively or overtly out of worry of drawing attention to the corner they were in. In truth, all he wanted was to touch it; if he could get an idea who she was tracking, he could potentially get an idea what information they were after. Was it a gross misuse of his powers? Absolutely. Would it be worth it to get a slice of pie? Again, absolutely.

Morgana Moriarty

[Morgana Moriarty]

THE WATCHER

FOREVER IS COMPOSED OF NOWS

“You hunted me down for… pie?”

The question hung in between the pair before Morgana laughed. “Man, you either really love pie or you have an issue with people keeping promises.” They didn’t move to stop him from taking the newspaper. Even if Morgana’s hands hadn’t been busy wiping away the little beads of tears from amusement at the corner of their eyes, they would have let Mark take it without a fuss—unless they had known what his Quirk was. Which they didn't, because he claimed not to have one.

Morgana wouldn’t have stopped Mark to keep their own privacy intact. They would have stopped him because they didn’t know how a Quirk that could see through time would interact with their own Quirk. Especially considering the impending side effects of The Watcher on… The Watcher.

It’s night. The air is balmy with a humidity that persists even without a threat of rain. Car models from decades past whiz up and down a main thoroughfare outside a college campus. It’s not UAU or any other university in Japan. The signs in English mark it as UC Berkeley.

Morgana walks away from a car that just dropped them off. The same bag sitting next to them back in the cafe hangs from their shoulder. They dig in it for their phone. The distraction makes them miss the masked figure that lunges at them from the shadows wielding a knife. Panic courses through Morgana.

“Give me the bag!”

“Take it! Take it,” Morgana cries and shoves the bag toward them. The top of the bag is open. Everything falls to the ground. Including their phone. It lands on the concrete of the sidewalk with a sharp retort that startles the mugger. Now they panic, wondering if Morgana has just done something with one of those new Quirks that have started appearing. Or perhaps someone was running to their aid.

Spooked, the mugger drives the knife into Morgana’s chest. The last thing Morgana sees is their attacker pulling the knife out, dropping it, and fleeing from the scene before they hit the ground and are overtaken by darkness. It’s a void of nothingness. Nothingness and pain and Morgana and strands of time unraveling their own history around them like a silent movie. They drift endlessly among the memories and a moment of suffering that stretches for an eternity. Sounds permeate the space in distant peals of thunder carrying sirens and screams and voices. Then it goes quiet and a light appears at the far end of the tunnel. Morgana’s consciousness drifts towards the light until…

They are back in the present.

Notes & Tags: lonewolf

[lonewolf]

Mark wasn't much of an academic, but he did read on occasion. Nothing intensive, but something to keep his brain stimulated during some points of loneliness. While he saw memories as a movie reel, to him the gestalt was like a book. In order to ground himself he always looked at the last page, the last memory, so when he went to the start he'd have a sense of where he was at.

Morgana was no different, but the moment he looked it was like a shard of ice was shoved into his brain. His body tensed as the scene unfolded, the fear coursing through him. He tried to shut it off, but that involved moving his hand off their paper and he was frozen. The moment the knife plunged his breath hitched, slumping forward for a moment. The coldness, the emptiness...

He sucked in a breath the moment the memory lapsed, yanking his hand back as he made an attempt to process. Different things about it made him question the extent of his quirk...he had spent little time in California, but based on some of the things...Something about this ain't right. To an extent, the only person he had to blame was himself. There was a firebrand he had a fling with in South Dakota that once questioned him why he didn't use it more often to try and find and eliminate as much crime as possible once she learned of his gifts. It was one of the reasons for their split as they had vastly differing philosophies. The fact of the matter is, Mark both did not and could not know everything about a person, and using it carelessly carried consequences. This was such a time.

He leaned back in his chair, all color devoid in his face as he covered his mouth. His stomach was churning and the room itself was spinning. He had a witty retort, but it was now gone. His other hand patted his chest, his brain tricked into thinking he actually did get stabbed. "give...Give me a moment..." he mutters.

Morgana Moriarty,