josh "elixir" foley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goldtoxicity) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capencowl20202020-01-16 01:16 am
goldtoxicity) wrote in capencowl20202020-01-16 01:16 am
day by day by day we're falling down [OPEN]
WHO: Josh Foley and YOU!
WHERE: All around the city
WHEN: Early to mid-event
WHAT: A week in the life of Josh Foley. Everything from healing fellow metas to assassination plots.
WARNINGS: Mild body horror, torture, terrorism, mental illness, violence, blood
safehouse.
[ it's not often that he's here. but if the porters are active again, that means it's time to act. right? right. time to recruit, or in the very least, make sure that everyone who turned up here is in fighting shape. because they will need to fight.
he's all smiles as he approaches new folks, reaching out to take hands. ] I'm a healer, [ he says, and his hands begin to glow. ] don't worry, it's gonna be okay. Did you just get here?
[ and to the oldbies, he flashes a lopsided grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes. ] Never thought I'd see this again. Did you?
healing.
[ anyone who knows of elixir most likely knows three things at this point. the first, and perhaps the most important, is that he's wanted for a damn good reason. the faction of the resistance he runs with doesn't really have a name, but the brotherhood of evil metas is bandied about in hushed whispers. they're extremists. assassins.
the second is that he's a healer and a powerful one at that. you want that incredibly obvious scar removed? he's got you covered. broken bones mended? easy. a limb regrown? sure. it comes at a cost to him, sometimes. but a cost to you. money, loyalty, or information. his hands might itch to touch the wound to fix it when it's presented, but he'll stay back unless you're a friend or willing to owe a favor to his team.
( but he's never great at sticking to it. some parts of the old kid remain. he was never meant to be this. )
the third, and the most important, is that there is something fundamentally wrong with joshua foley. there wasn't always. he used to be a pretty good kid, the kind of kid that'd rush up to strangers to heal them. but that golden skin of his isn't quite so golden now, blotched and spattered with black spots that induce illness when touched. sometimes, while healing, he can't handle whatever it is he's trying to do. sometimes he loses the thread, sometimes you get hurt before you get better. he's always apologetic, always quick to fix it, but it's a game of russian roulette.
but still, he's here. operating out of an abandoned storefront for the time being. there's a cot set up behind the counter. if you need him, you only need to ring the bell to draw him from the back room. ]
harming.
[ this side of his powers comes easier now. the gold washes away, leaving shiny ink black in it's place.
this guy is small potatoes. metas are coming back in a big way, if the porter being active again is any indication, and right now people's focus is on containing the newly activated porter. resources are split, information is easier to get a hold of, and that leads him to here and now. walking down the street in the middle of the night wearing all black, hood pulled over his shock of white hair as he follows a few yards behind a man.
the guy's not really all that important in the grand scheme of things. has some fun ideas on metahuman imprisonment. used to be opposed but now he's been bought out, because every human has a price that can be paid for their mortality, and as far as josh's fucking concerned he deserves to suffer.
maybe you do too. or maybe you don't. maybe you're sick of extremists making it hard to go about things the proper way and you're keen to intervene. ]
running.
[ and of course, you can't be one of the most wanted metas alive without complications. something goes wrong, somewhere somehow, and josh is bolting through the streets, running as fast as he can to evade pursuers. there's a price on his head - enough for someone to live very comfortably for the rest of their days - and the promise of immunity if they come forward.
he springs over a fence. shoves a pile of boxes over in his way. weaving in and out of traffic, alleyways, doing whatever he can to ditch the eyes on him so he can disappear into the shadows.
maybe you're keen to cash in. maybe you believe in his cause. but he's running your way and you've got one shot at a choice. ]
hurt.
[ the thing about his dark side? it doesn't heal.
anything. all processes dedicated to fixing grind to a halt and reverse, even the ones that should be fixing the damage to himself. the higher his bloodlust, the harder it is to switch back. trading compassion for power only leads to misery and bullet holes.
he's dripping blood. the streets are mostly deserted and the chaos that was following him has finally died down, but he's a long way from any safehouse. breathing hard and pressing an arm to the bullet wound in his gut that's warning him he doesn't have a ton of time to be fucking around. he came back from the dead once, but there's really no telling whether that was a fluke or not. he isn't keen to test it.
but he's not moving very fast either. he looks like hell. his head hits the back of the dumpster he's hiding behind, teeth grit as he tries to force himself to his feet. ]
wildcard.
[ choose your own adventure! hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
minimoffs
WHERE: All around the city
WHEN: Early to mid-event
WHAT: A week in the life of Josh Foley. Everything from healing fellow metas to assassination plots.
WARNINGS: Mild body horror, torture, terrorism, mental illness, violence, blood
safehouse.
[ it's not often that he's here. but if the porters are active again, that means it's time to act. right? right. time to recruit, or in the very least, make sure that everyone who turned up here is in fighting shape. because they will need to fight.
he's all smiles as he approaches new folks, reaching out to take hands. ] I'm a healer, [ he says, and his hands begin to glow. ] don't worry, it's gonna be okay. Did you just get here?
[ and to the oldbies, he flashes a lopsided grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes. ] Never thought I'd see this again. Did you?
healing.
[ anyone who knows of elixir most likely knows three things at this point. the first, and perhaps the most important, is that he's wanted for a damn good reason. the faction of the resistance he runs with doesn't really have a name, but the brotherhood of evil metas is bandied about in hushed whispers. they're extremists. assassins.
the second is that he's a healer and a powerful one at that. you want that incredibly obvious scar removed? he's got you covered. broken bones mended? easy. a limb regrown? sure. it comes at a cost to him, sometimes. but a cost to you. money, loyalty, or information. his hands might itch to touch the wound to fix it when it's presented, but he'll stay back unless you're a friend or willing to owe a favor to his team.
( but he's never great at sticking to it. some parts of the old kid remain. he was never meant to be this. )
the third, and the most important, is that there is something fundamentally wrong with joshua foley. there wasn't always. he used to be a pretty good kid, the kind of kid that'd rush up to strangers to heal them. but that golden skin of his isn't quite so golden now, blotched and spattered with black spots that induce illness when touched. sometimes, while healing, he can't handle whatever it is he's trying to do. sometimes he loses the thread, sometimes you get hurt before you get better. he's always apologetic, always quick to fix it, but it's a game of russian roulette.
but still, he's here. operating out of an abandoned storefront for the time being. there's a cot set up behind the counter. if you need him, you only need to ring the bell to draw him from the back room. ]
harming.
[ this side of his powers comes easier now. the gold washes away, leaving shiny ink black in it's place.
this guy is small potatoes. metas are coming back in a big way, if the porter being active again is any indication, and right now people's focus is on containing the newly activated porter. resources are split, information is easier to get a hold of, and that leads him to here and now. walking down the street in the middle of the night wearing all black, hood pulled over his shock of white hair as he follows a few yards behind a man.
the guy's not really all that important in the grand scheme of things. has some fun ideas on metahuman imprisonment. used to be opposed but now he's been bought out, because every human has a price that can be paid for their mortality, and as far as josh's fucking concerned he deserves to suffer.
maybe you do too. or maybe you don't. maybe you're sick of extremists making it hard to go about things the proper way and you're keen to intervene. ]
running.
[ and of course, you can't be one of the most wanted metas alive without complications. something goes wrong, somewhere somehow, and josh is bolting through the streets, running as fast as he can to evade pursuers. there's a price on his head - enough for someone to live very comfortably for the rest of their days - and the promise of immunity if they come forward.
he springs over a fence. shoves a pile of boxes over in his way. weaving in and out of traffic, alleyways, doing whatever he can to ditch the eyes on him so he can disappear into the shadows.
maybe you're keen to cash in. maybe you believe in his cause. but he's running your way and you've got one shot at a choice. ]
hurt.
[ the thing about his dark side? it doesn't heal.
anything. all processes dedicated to fixing grind to a halt and reverse, even the ones that should be fixing the damage to himself. the higher his bloodlust, the harder it is to switch back. trading compassion for power only leads to misery and bullet holes.
he's dripping blood. the streets are mostly deserted and the chaos that was following him has finally died down, but he's a long way from any safehouse. breathing hard and pressing an arm to the bullet wound in his gut that's warning him he doesn't have a ton of time to be fucking around. he came back from the dead once, but there's really no telling whether that was a fluke or not. he isn't keen to test it.
but he's not moving very fast either. he looks like hell. his head hits the back of the dumpster he's hiding behind, teeth grit as he tries to force himself to his feet. ]
wildcard.
[ choose your own adventure! hit me up at
no subject
Josh's expression doesn't change much. A narrowing of his eyes, thinning of his lips.
He and David might not be on the same terms they once were, their friendship has been different ever since they'd made the mistake of sleeping together. But David was still his best friend, and Damian has still fucked him over. ]
I see somebody already exacted their pound of flesh from you. [ can't say he's surprised, either. Damian has always had more curiosity than he had survival skills. ] SI'll kill you after you're done talking. I can do that for an old friend.
no subject
Right. I appreciate it. [ The tired smile goes wry, but soon enough falls away entirely as he lifts a hand to run through his hair, sighing. ] Actually, I'm looking for David.
[ That's solidly a lie, he could know exactly where David was with a thought. He would be as easy to find as Josh had been. But a common connection, a search for the man he should be avoiding — he's banking on a stir of curiosity here to keep them talking. Don't let him down, old friend. ]
no subject
so he scoffs. ]
Why, you didn't fuck him over enough the first time?
no subject
You know I cared about him. [ His voice is low, regretful, and after a moment he adds: ] Care, believe it or not. That wasn't how things were supposed to go.
[ The act and the words come so easily to his silver tongue that he never really stops to consider how much truth is really in them anymore. Does it matter? Such an objective thing, truth. The end goal is all that really matters. ]
no subject
[ This isn't the same kid that would throw himself into fire for the sake of his enemies. The same one who panicked in the face of a crisis. Josh jabs a finger towards him, still keeping a healthy berth between them. ]
You don't do that to people you care about. And you don't leave them hanging when things go south.
[ but, he is still a hypocrite of the highest degree. because that's exactly what he'd done. ]
no subject
Does being dead at the time count for anything?
[ Not ... literally dead, but for a while there it was close enough, and he's certainly been solidly dead according to public record. ]
no subject
[ it does. honestly he doesn't understand the full scope of the situation and decided he hadn't needed to. damian had hurt david, and that was all he needed to be dead to him. his reappearance isn't shocking so much as it is an annoyance.
they better move before someone actually comes along and calls the cops. he starts walking. ]
Why do you want to see him?
no subject
I can’t let things sit like they are with him. Or you. It’s gone on way too long, I’m exhausted.
[ Not a lie, this part he solidly knows to be true. He’s tired of ... well, of having no one but himself around. He used to trust people, once, and let them in to some degree. He remembers it was nice. ]
no subject
[ His voice is frosty. But Josh knows he doesn’t either. David gets to make that call - or he should. If he’s being honest with himself, it would probably be better to snuff him out here. There’s a reason he hasn’t shifted back to his gold form.
But he isn’t so far gone that he’d kill a meta, let alone one that used to be a friend... Or at least he isn’t at this very moment. ]
no subject
[ You know, "dead", on his tropical island. It was an extremely comfortable death, lost arm aside. He's quiet for a few seconds, like his thoughts are slowly shifting toward Josh, instead. He glances over sidelong. ]
I didn't see you going down this path. But I guess everyone around here does, sooner or later.
no subject
Things got worse after you "died". You took the only lifeboat. Now you're back to see the wreckage.
no subject
Still, though, his tone has gone soft when he speaks again: ] I know. I'm sorry. [ His head drops, gaze dragging along the ground as they walk. ] I couldn't find any way to help anyone without painting an immediate target on myself, and I'm no use to anyone if I'm really dead.
[ He's been no use to anyone while fake-dead, either. But at least it left the option of this eventual return, he supposes. Better than nothing. ]
no subject
he's a coward who ran from xavier's when he had nothing left to give, but he'd given it all before that point. done everything he could for his friends. done whatever he could to make the world even a slightly better place.
his hands clench to fists. ]
Cool. I don't forgive you?
no subject
[ He shrugs faintly; there's no anger, certainly no begging for that forgiveness. That wouldn't be the key here. Honesty is a better course.]
I was never very good at the heroic stuff, I never had it in me. You and David had the market cornered on it, anyway.
[ Had is really the operative word. He's seen Josh at work, and he's followed David from afar. Heroic isn't the word for them anymore. He hums, thoughtful. ]
But there's no room for that anymore. And I'm glad that you changed with the world, really — I'd hate to see it have gotten you killed instead.
no subject
[ he flashes a bitter smile. ]
no subject
[ That gives him pause -- only literally for a half step, and he hurries to catch up again. His attention finds Josh squarely, concern knitting his brows. ] What did you do?
no subject
[ this will bite him in the ass later, thanks to the power of forgetting tags. ]
Or the closest I get to it, anyway.