[ He’s just a shadow. From dark alley to dark alley, he flits, barely visible, humming with energy - his own and alien alike, Chitauri tech crackling blue energy under his cape, hidden but for flashes of light whenever he moved.
The suit, for all that it looked heavy and unwieldy, was actually a pretty solid piece of work. Up along the spine were encased Chitauri energy cells, powering the exoskeleton Ronan wore to give him enhanced strength, speed, and agility. Along with the sonar he used to scan for criminal activity, and the array of weapons he carried around, he looked… well, kind of dangerous.
He also looked clumsy. And he wasn’t as stealthy as he liked to think he was. And he wasn’t as unrecognizable as he wished he was. But he tried. With his homemade cape and mask, he scoured the city streets at night to prevent Enhanceds and Non-Enhanceds alike from committing crimes. Of course, it made him somewhat a criminal himself, but there wasn’t much he could do about that part.
Tonight, there is crime to fight. And if you happen to stumble upon Ronan, well. Enjoy the show! ]
-- PAX SANCTUM - PRE-EXPLOSION - (closed to Jace) --
[ It’s not unusual that the bar is packed. As for himself, Ronan is not packing much; only the very essentials, his sonar and a couple weapons hidden in various places upon his person. He walks into Pax Sanctum, using his height to clear a path towards the bar, hands shoved deep in his pockets and elbows out, not hesitating to dig them into anyone staying in his way.
It’s not that he’s angry, really. It’s just - seeing Adam and leaving Adam always leaves a funny taste in Ronan’s mouth - pun not intended. He could still feel his lips tingle, and his ears still buzz with words whispered.
Jesus, he needs a drink.
Getting to the bar is a bit of a workout, but he manages, slumping against the sleek counter, leaning on his elbows and letting out a loud sigh before running a hand over his shorn hair. It takes him a second, but then he feels the eyes on him, just by his left, and he darts a look. Oh. Just fucking perfect. ]
I swear to God if you make a single comment about my appearance before I’ve got a glass of whiskey in my hand, I will clock you, Wayland.
[ To be fair, it was, actually, pretty much how Ronan spoke to anyone, including his friends. One of which, Jace kinda was. Weirdly enough, if asked to remember how they met, Ronan wouldn’t be able to pinpoint it exactly, but. Here they were. ]
-- WAREHOUSE SHENANIGANS - (closed to Kavinsky) --
[ Kavinsky and his goons was at it again, and Ronan couldn’t think of a place in the world where he wouldn’t hate hearing these words on his sonar, hear that distorted voice say, let’s have some fun directly in Ronan’s ear, feeling almost too intimate. He grits his teeth as he follows his sonar, to a large warehouse, looking abandoned from the outside - broken windows high up along the walls, graffitis adorning most walls, a sign hanging half-off, red with rust, unintelligible.
The noises are clearly coming from inside, Kavinsky and his little gang too busy probably torturing some poor Enhanced - or maybe kittens - to hear Ronan come in when he slinks inside the warehouse, finding shadows and cover behind large, half broken and empty crates, creeping closer and closer, until --
A gun cocks, at the back of his head. Ronan stops dead in his tracks, straightening up, feeling the Chitauri energy from the weapon almost right against his skin. He’s pretty sure it’s Kavinsky, because Kavinsky loves to fuck with him. So Ronan doesn’t hold his hands up, stays right where he is, taking stock of where his weapons are on his person. ]
Joseph. Would you be so kind as to lower your weapon?
-- PAX SANCTUM - POST EXPLOSION- OTA --
[ When Pax Sanctum finds itself shaken by an explosion, Ronan is just outside its doors, ready to go down for a drink or fifteen. The night feels long already, and Ronan’s spine is hurting from the various blow one of the Enhanceds he had to fight landed all over him.
That’s what you get for fighting a man made of metal, his brother would probably tell him.
But his brother isn’t here right now, and Ronan is - Ronan is thrown to the ground by the blast, shaken for a moment as his brain catches up to what, exactly, is happening. It’s not long before he’s getting himself up again, staggering towards the building and pushing indoors, immediately shielding his eyes from the heat and light from the fire, scanning the room as best he can for anyone looking injured.
He doesn’t think when he sees someone on the ground, sliding to his knees across the floor to their side, hands shaking as he reaches inside his jacket for his emergency kit. ]
Shit. Can you tell me where you’re hurt? Can you move at all? We need to get you out of here!
Ronan Lynch; assorted
[ He’s just a shadow. From dark alley to dark alley, he flits, barely visible, humming with energy - his own and alien alike, Chitauri tech crackling blue energy under his cape, hidden but for flashes of light whenever he moved.
The suit, for all that it looked heavy and unwieldy, was actually a pretty solid piece of work. Up along the spine were encased Chitauri energy cells, powering the exoskeleton Ronan wore to give him enhanced strength, speed, and agility. Along with the sonar he used to scan for criminal activity, and the array of weapons he carried around, he looked… well, kind of dangerous.
He also looked clumsy. And he wasn’t as stealthy as he liked to think he was. And he wasn’t as unrecognizable as he wished he was. But he tried. With his homemade cape and mask, he scoured the city streets at night to prevent Enhanceds and Non-Enhanceds alike from committing crimes. Of course, it made him somewhat a criminal himself, but there wasn’t much he could do about that part.
Tonight, there is crime to fight. And if you happen to stumble upon Ronan, well. Enjoy the show! ]
[ It’s not unusual that the bar is packed. As for himself, Ronan is not packing much; only the very essentials, his sonar and a couple weapons hidden in various places upon his person. He walks into Pax Sanctum, using his height to clear a path towards the bar, hands shoved deep in his pockets and elbows out, not hesitating to dig them into anyone staying in his way.
It’s not that he’s angry, really. It’s just - seeing Adam and leaving Adam always leaves a funny taste in Ronan’s mouth - pun not intended. He could still feel his lips tingle, and his ears still buzz with words whispered.
Jesus, he needs a drink.
Getting to the bar is a bit of a workout, but he manages, slumping against the sleek counter, leaning on his elbows and letting out a loud sigh before running a hand over his shorn hair. It takes him a second, but then he feels the eyes on him, just by his left, and he darts a look. Oh. Just fucking perfect. ]
I swear to God if you make a single comment about my appearance before I’ve got a glass of whiskey in my hand, I will clock you, Wayland.
[ To be fair, it was, actually, pretty much how Ronan spoke to anyone, including his friends. One of which, Jace kinda was. Weirdly enough, if asked to remember how they met, Ronan wouldn’t be able to pinpoint it exactly, but. Here they were. ]
[ Kavinsky and his goons was at it again, and Ronan couldn’t think of a place in the world where he wouldn’t hate hearing these words on his sonar, hear that distorted voice say, let’s have some fun directly in Ronan’s ear, feeling almost too intimate. He grits his teeth as he follows his sonar, to a large warehouse, looking abandoned from the outside - broken windows high up along the walls, graffitis adorning most walls, a sign hanging half-off, red with rust, unintelligible.
The noises are clearly coming from inside, Kavinsky and his little gang too busy probably torturing some poor Enhanced - or maybe kittens - to hear Ronan come in when he slinks inside the warehouse, finding shadows and cover behind large, half broken and empty crates, creeping closer and closer, until --
A gun cocks, at the back of his head. Ronan stops dead in his tracks, straightening up, feeling the Chitauri energy from the weapon almost right against his skin. He’s pretty sure it’s Kavinsky, because Kavinsky loves to fuck with him. So Ronan doesn’t hold his hands up, stays right where he is, taking stock of where his weapons are on his person. ]
Joseph. Would you be so kind as to lower your weapon?
[ When Pax Sanctum finds itself shaken by an explosion, Ronan is just outside its doors, ready to go down for a drink or fifteen. The night feels long already, and Ronan’s spine is hurting from the various blow one of the Enhanceds he had to fight landed all over him.
That’s what you get for fighting a man made of metal, his brother would probably tell him.
But his brother isn’t here right now, and Ronan is - Ronan is thrown to the ground by the blast, shaken for a moment as his brain catches up to what, exactly, is happening. It’s not long before he’s getting himself up again, staggering towards the building and pushing indoors, immediately shielding his eyes from the heat and light from the fire, scanning the room as best he can for anyone looking injured.
He doesn’t think when he sees someone on the ground, sliding to his knees across the floor to their side, hands shaking as he reaches inside his jacket for his emergency kit. ]
Shit. Can you tell me where you’re hurt? Can you move at all? We need to get you out of here!