It was supposed to be a quick errand. In and out of Central City, no detours, no stops. Dylan had figured it wouldn't be too hard to navigate; He'd spent days wandering the city on foot earlier this month, with looters and other criminals about. He figured it wouldn't be much different.
It was much, much different.
Criminals were one thing. But these weren't criminals, these were just... people. And way, way more of them than Dylan was anticipating.
Dylan's small, lanky build was helpful here, allowing him to weave around in the crowd relatively unscathed, though he gathered a few blows along the way. One person shoved him, a stray fist got him in the side, and he dodged a weapon that ended up barely grazing him.
In a watertight soft cooler slung over his shoulder was his sibling, who was still reconstituting themself after their typical teleporter allergy. Dylan wasn't sure how much longer that would take, but he didn't wait around to find out.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the crowd was congregating around something — or, more likely, someone. A man in a suit, who was single-handedly trying to fend them all off.
Someone needed help, and it didn't look like anyone else nearby was available.
"Hey, Sleeper... sorry, gonna make a quick detour."
Without another thought, Dylan turned on his heel and headed for the commotion. Weaving in and out of the crowd was a bit more difficult this time around, as the crowd got denser the further in he moved. But soon enough he managed to squeeze in right next to the target.
Dylan summoned the symbiote material in himself, and the black ooze slipped up over his fists and reinforced them like boxing gloves — and for good measure, he summoned more, until his arms and fists were ridiculously large.
"Leave him alone!"
Dylan opened his palms, trying to shove back as much of the crowd as he could to give the stranger some breathing room.
Scuffle!
It was much, much different.
Criminals were one thing. But these weren't criminals, these were just... people. And way, way more of them than Dylan was anticipating.
Dylan's small, lanky build was helpful here, allowing him to weave around in the crowd relatively unscathed, though he gathered a few blows along the way. One person shoved him, a stray fist got him in the side, and he dodged a weapon that ended up barely grazing him.
In a watertight soft cooler slung over his shoulder was his sibling, who was still reconstituting themself after their typical teleporter allergy. Dylan wasn't sure how much longer that would take, but he didn't wait around to find out.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the crowd was congregating around something — or, more likely, someone. A man in a suit, who was single-handedly trying to fend them all off.
Someone needed help, and it didn't look like anyone else nearby was available.
"Hey, Sleeper... sorry, gonna make a quick detour."
Without another thought, Dylan turned on his heel and headed for the commotion. Weaving in and out of the crowd was a bit more difficult this time around, as the crowd got denser the further in he moved. But soon enough he managed to squeeze in right next to the target.
Dylan summoned the symbiote material in himself, and the black ooze slipped up over his fists and reinforced them like boxing gloves — and for good measure, he summoned more, until his arms and fists were ridiculously large.
"Leave him alone!"
Dylan opened his palms, trying to shove back as much of the crowd as he could to give the stranger some breathing room.