20120/No Capes

No Capes
Date of Scene:	23 February 2025
Location:	Dane and Sersi's Home
Synopsis:	Sersi decides that it would be best if the world didn't end.
Cast of Characters:	Dane Whitman, Sersi

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Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane Whitman sat at a bench in his workshop, surrounded by half-finished projects and tools. His latest invention sat in front of him, which he had been working on for weeks. As he made adjustments, the machine began to hum, and then crackle. He frowned, sensing something was wrong.

The energy output spiked, and in an instant, there was a violent crack. The entire workshop shook, lights flickered, and a small explosion rang through the space. Dane was knocked to the floor, his ears ringing as smoke filled the air.

When the dust settled, the workshop was a mess, tools scattered, shelves knocked over, and the device completely destroyed. The fire crackling near the shelves was the least of his concerns. What caught his eye was an old medallion.

It lay in the middle of the room, completely untouched by the blast. It should have been destroyed along with everything else. But there it was, glowing faintly.

Dane slowly approached; his heart racing. He picked it up carefully, feeling the warmth of the stone in his hand. The carvings on the medallion seemed to pulse slightly under his fingers, as if reacting to the energy released by the explosion.

A brief flash of a vision passed through his mind... an armored figure, a sword, and a surge of power.

Sersi has posed:
He might hear the sound of rapid footfalls approaching. Someone was running that direction. A moment later, Sersi practically was skidding around the corner through the doorframe and just barely into the room. She shifted her gaze, focus ticking to each area of the room to assess the situation, before focusing fulling on Dane.

"Are you alright?" And she was moving to find an extinguisher that was kept near the door for just such moments. She pulled the pin and squeezed the trigger, then sprayed the foam onto the burning fire to be sure it was out. Then she turned back to Dane, looking him over again and noting his attention had been drawn to whatever he was holding.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane winced, his chest still aching from the blast. His t-shirt was ruined, a dark gray mess of soot and burn marks, the words "trophy boyfriend" now barely legible under the scorch marks. The fabric clung to his skin, sticky with sweat, but at least he wasn't on fire, which, considering the circumstances was a win. His ears were still ringing, but the fact that he was mobile and not entirely disintegrated was a miracle. He glanced at the medallion, still glowing faintly. "Well, at least I didn't blow myself into next week," he muttered, and then looked up at Sersi. "Though, if I look like I got hit by a freight train, don't be too impressed. It's just my new look for the season."

He tried to stand, his muscles sore and stiff, and the room spun slightly as the dizziness from the blast wore off. He cleared his throat and shrugged, trying to make further light of it, though the slight tremor in his left hand betrayed him. "Could be worse, right? I could've ended up as a pop tart. Just a little singed, that's all." He gestured to his charred shirt. "T-shirt's going straight to the goodbye forever pile. Should I be worried that this thing?" He asked, looking at the glowing medallion. Though he did put a finger to his lips in thought, "As I just survived a not insignificant explosion, perhaps I should start plotting world domination?" Yeah, he was fine.

Sersi has posed:
As he spoke, Sersi was keeping a careful eye on him. The tremor was noted but she was trying not to hover. Even as she was sort of hovering, having moved over to within three feet of him and watching closely. At one point she started to reach out a hand to steady him but stopped before touching, letting him work through it all at his own speed.

At the last line, she shook her head. "Perhaps tomorrow. I think for now you should go in the living room and relax for a bit. Make sure nothing more severe is going on and the adrenaline is masking it." She put her hand carefully on his arm then as an offer to go with him to the living room. Though she did look to the medallion.

"Is there a reason it's glowing?"

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane stared at the medallion, still glowing, and still somehow perfectly immaculate despite the chaos around it. "Well, if I had to guess, it's either an artifact of untold power, or the universe's way of telling me I'm about to have a really weird week," he muttered. "No idea why it's glowing." He held it in his gaze, watching the pulse of energy like it was some kind of cosmic strobe light. "Maybe it's just a new brand of energy drink... who knows?" He glanced at the room, wreckage, coolant, all of it, and then back at Sersi, still not sure if he was going to pass out or pull off some ridiculous hero moment. "But hey, if nothing else, it looks like I'm not going to be missing any dinner invitations this week."

He managed to stand a little straighter, his legs shaky but holding up, and offered Sersi a crooked smile. "Alright, alright, I'll head to the living room. Though," he added with a smirk, "I'm gonna need a chair, a cold drink, and possibly a cape. You know, for the whole 'surviving the apocalypse' vibe I'm rocking." His fingers gave her a reassuring grip. "As for that thing, your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it's just pissed off I didn't do it justice with a proper pedestal. I guess we'll find out sooner or later. Or, you know, the world ends. Either way, I'll take it in stride."

Sersi has posed:
"I would like to think the world is not going to end. I rather like it here," Sersi said simply as she started to lead him out of the room in a bid to get him sitting somewhere. "Are you certain you don't want me to ring for the medics to come round? Just to check you over?"

Since he was seemingly trying to laugh this off to appease her concerns and she was very worried about his status right now. The workshop hadn't been blown to bits but it was a bit of a mess. Which she would deal with helping clean later. He had survived, though his shirt had not. Speaking of...

She put her hand atop his pectoral, on the scorche shirt. And with a thought, it was repaired. Back to normal, no sign of what had happened moments before. No need to throw it away now either. Molecular transmutation was great for fixing things.

"Come. Sit. I'll get the tea started. No capes. Did you not watch The Incredibles?"