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
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