[b]Lynn[/b]

If one had been paying attention only to Lynn - and this was unlikely, given the freakish helmet man that fell from the rafters and crashed onto their table (knocking Lynn's plate into her lap and sending her silverware scattering away; a split-second later, Lynn reached for a knife that was not there), they would've seen Lynn light up. Quite literally - her eyes and hair began to glow brightly for a moment, and any thought of the power-monitoring nanotech in her veins was ignored. Lynn was up on her feet and ready to throw down but he was moving along, and even Lynn couldn't see anything particularly malicious in his behavior. [i]He looks like they sent an astronaut up here but they let Hot Topic run his wardrobe instead of NASA.[/i]

What the hell? He still deserved an ass-whooping for startling her. Lynn would've started swinging, but they played by different rules here. [i]I'm not getting the Spoons treatment on day one,[/i] Lynn told herself, forcing her curled up fists down to her sides. Still, Lynn figured they couldn't get mad at her for self-defense, and she kept her eyes on the -

...no. What else was going on? This seemed an awful lot like a distraction. Lynn scanned the room, looking around. Was this just some lone wolf fuckery? She figured it might be some kind of orientation stunt, but that helmet looked awfully expensive to be a prank. Lynn had seen (and, perhaps, participated in) enough street hustles to know this set-up. Wave one hand at somebody and pick their pocket with the other. Lynn looked around the dining hall but saw nothing. This could've been a pretty good excuse to flood the place with security if they were trying to make a move on Spoons or something, but she figured that couldn't be it, because the security here was woefully incompetent. Lynn considered flooring the prankster just to show them up, but that would've meant doing the security a favor, and Lynn was not about to be seen as, considered, or even fall vaguely into the realm of narc-dom. 

Lynn looked back (missing Archie's attempt to apprehend the helmet man) to see Archie take a mean boot to the face. Lynn grimaced. She'd taken one or two before. Lynn, with the sort of law degree that comes from being arrested, also knew that qualified as assault with a deadly weapon. [i]Aim below the waist, bro. Hurts more and they can't pin attempted murder on you.[/i] Lynn did bristle up at that. She and Boat Farmer and Spoons and the Cranky One weren't exactly buddy-buddy, but Lynn, for a myriad of reasons, wasn't going to let anybody come on in and kick around the top dogs and scamper off. Lynn moved to melt that helmet into his skull but he was already gone. [i]Christ, Boats, you got your ass beat by a tap dancer.[/i] That kick did look pretty serious, and there was no way this place had competent help coming. As long as this guy kept making a joke of them, the more she got a feel for what the Promise's security was like. So far, she wasn't terribly impressed. The steel boot wasn't a cool move, but Lynn figured she might've done the same in his position. [i]I wouldn't have gotten grabbed, though, and also I wouldn't be dancing.[/i]

Lynn moved over to Archie, coming around the table. Her hair flickered rapidly, yellow and red, and her eyes glowed softly. There was a faint light pulsing from her skin in rhythm with the hair, but Lynn didn't push things further. She was staying under the radar, but if she got a hand on the Helmet man, he was going down. [i]Have fun tap-dancing with rubber melted to your feet.[/i] He was farther down the table, though, and Lynn wasn't concerned about him coming back. The cafeteria was in pure chaos, which Lynn did find amusing. Lynn, given the height differential, had some difficulty reaching up to Archie's face. She also couldn't remember his name, which was unfortunate. "Hold still," she told him, her tone completely devoid of bedside manner. "You're going to be fine."

This was a boldfaced lie. Dude took a steel boot to the face. Lynn figured he might be concussed at best or starring in inspirational hallmark movies about people who spent ten years learning how to walk again at worse. Or, maybe whatever parahuman tricks were up his sleeve made him tough like her. Lynn looked into his eyes and grunted for a minute, making her own flare up for a second. His eyes didn't dilate. Lynn had picked up that trick a while back, given the disturbing propensity for head trauma in the last crew she ran with. "Okay, Fish Boy. You're fucked. Lay down before Daft Punk comes back and curbstomps you or something." Lynn put her hand on the side of his face and kept her heat at a steady, low level, figuring that might help. 

Lynn blinked. [i]Why am I doing this? I should just let him seizure out or something.[/i] Lynn chewed on her lip for a second. She didn't care about these people, you know, and she wanted to make that clear - but, at the same time, it...well, truthfully, Lynn couldn't really find a good justifiation for why she was doing it. Part of her, for a second, thought that Archie looked like Megan or Clarita had, with their bruises and scrapes, small and shaking, but that thought flickered out of her mind as quickly as it came. This guy was strapped up when they brought him in. He was a threat, and she was helping him. That pissed her off, and she wasn't about to let people say she was being a little bitch by helping someone out. Time to clarify that.

"Hey, you two," she said to Amelia and Natalie. "One of you go sort through the pile of dipshits that run this place and find a doctor." Lynn turned and saw a girl dressed entirely in denim. "Hey, Denim," she shouted to Keaton. Gimme your jacket." She looked back at Amelia. "You too. We gotta, like, prop his head up or some shit." Lynn had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but that was not about to stop her. For a moment, she figured she should probably take off her own hooodie if she was asking these two to do the same, but that was [i]not[/i] happening if Lynn could help it. She knew they couldn't let him fall asleep, though, or he would die. Not that Lynn was particularly concerned - that meant there'd be one less contender for king of the mountain. [i]But,[/i] Lynn thought, and this thought bore a sneaking resemblance to the shrink, [i]He's really only been nice to you, and helping him doesn't make you look weak.[/i] Oh well. Time to sort that out later. 

"Hey," she told Archie, looking down at him. The smell of smoke began to drift off her. "Tell me, like, who the president is, or whatever. You still alive in there?" Lynn contemplated telling him that if he stroked out and started shooting laser beams or lightning bolts at her, she was going to hit him a hell of a lot harder than that guy did, but she figured that may not be necessary. She kept one hand where the boot at had hit, and the other at her side, fingers dancing, light flickering around them. Lynn alternated her glances between Archie, where the Helmet Man had run off, and at the rafters. [i]You won't catch me off-guard again.[/i]