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Post by Swerve on Sept 14, 2012 14:22:17 GMT -5
If the world were right and proper, Willard would have what he needs for cleanup. Of course, if the world really were right and proper, he wouldn't be a human.
"I've got some stuff back at the shop," he says, "but… probably not enough for all this." Maybe he should call this into the authorities and get gone. He rubs the back of his neck, not quite sure what he wants to do about it, and does nothing at all to shake off the hand on his shoulder.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Sept 16, 2012 18:20:32 GMT -5
Sharon shifts back to Metatron, because she needs to keep her appearance appropriate for her current attire. She nods and decides, "We'll call the authorities and then be gone. Next stop on your beat?'
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Post by Swerve on Oct 7, 2012 15:44:59 GMT -5
"Don't…." Willard pauses, thinking on it for a moment. "…Really have a beat," he says awkwardly. He was about to shrug off Sharon's presence, but if she's willing to tag along, he doesn't really mind so much. "I just sort of pick a direction as I go." He heads for the door unless she stops him because he has to find a payphone. Maybe he should find a way to carry that phone Kate gave him. He just doesn't envy the conversation if he happens to break or lose it when he's on these forays.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Oct 14, 2012 10:30:53 GMT -5
"I guess that keeps your enemies from learning your patterns, if you don't have a pattern," Sharon muses, rubbing her chin.
She follows him on his quest to find a payphone.
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Post by Swerve on Oct 29, 2012 18:19:20 GMT -5
It isn't more than a block to the nearest pay phone; it's outside the corner store, thankfully not the 24-hour spot so Willard isn't so self-conscious using it with his vigilante getup still on. He keeps it short and to the point, telling the operator the address and that the place is full of spilled gasoline. The operator wants him to stay on the line, give her a name. He doesn't. He never bothered thinking up a nickname to go with his "disguise" because he didn't think he'd need it.
He hangs up and looks at Metatron.
"…Why're you even on this end of town tonight?" he wonders, though he starts away from the phone while talking.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Nov 22, 2012 22:46:37 GMT -5
"I do random-walk paths to avoid my enemies anticipating my movements," Metatron answers. Hey, makes sense, right? She walks along with him amiably enough.
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Post by Swerve on Dec 18, 2012 12:24:16 GMT -5
He doesn't really have an answer for her. He just shrugs. Willard has never put that much thought into it; wandering aimlessly is more reflex than anything else. He roams and listens for things that sound like trouble. It took him a couple of surreal mishaps to figure out which sort of human cries were the sounds of one in distress rather than one engaged with a partner.
It's a very fine line sometimes.
"S'always something to do around here," he says, "no matter which way I go." Two blocks over, though he doesn't know it, there's a car theft in progress. On the third floor of the nearest walk up apartments, a break-in. A drug deal in the next alley. It isn't that crime rules the streets; just that there's never much law around to keep it in check. He makes a right turn without knowing he's headed for the car thieves.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jan 5, 2013 20:43:51 GMT -5
Metatron follows along with Willard, thusly also heading toward the car theft. She asks carefully, "So you protect this community, then."
That's an interesting step for him.
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Post by Swerve on Sept 15, 2013 9:25:14 GMT -5
"…I guess," is Willard's awkward answer. He never thought of it that way. To him, it's just finding people who clearly deserve to get beat and beating them, hoping he runs into a Decepticon while he's at it, an alternative to the fights. He still misses the fights sometimes, the strange parallel to home that he found in them. The extra income didn't hurt either, in retrospect.
One block over, the thieves' slim jim isn't working out.
"That what you're doing out here?" Willard asks, glancing sidelong at Metatron. "Babysitting the place?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jan 7, 2014 20:02:48 GMT -5
"I wouldn't say babysitting. I imagine they'd manage on their own without me? But my actions still have meaning in giving them perhaps not quite so much to manage," Metatron replies. She's walking along casually. She's definitely on the lookout for strange activity, but finding strange activity is not quite her thing... So while she's doing the best job at it that she can, she's probably missing a lot of things.
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Post by Swerve on Feb 9, 2014 2:08:50 GMT -5
Not sure how to respond, Willard just grunts, not quite agreeing nor disagreeing. His reasons for doing this are more selfish than hers, but he supposes they come to roughly the same end results.
Because he doesn't speak up and answer, he hears a scuffle around the corner just before someone gets fed up and smashes in the car window with a nearby brick. Willard breaks into a run without a second thought; breaking glass is one of those sounds he's learned is never good around here. He has to grab at the wall to help him take the corner without losing much momentum and the fact that the brick doesn't come away in his hand is briefly disorienting. Sometimes he still manages to forget that he doesn't have metal fingers any more.
"HEY!" he barks, voice bouncing off the walls. It's just two punks who freeze briefly, one draped across the driver's seat as he works on removing the stereo.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 25, 2014 19:13:34 GMT -5
Metatron runs after Willard, but she is an older woman who is, at heart, an older tank. She is not fast. She'll be there as soon as she can, but it won't be as soon as Willard might like it! He'll have to handle this initial engagement on his own.
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