<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0d/Soulsteel.PNG)</div><strong>Alter Ego:</strong>Nephilim<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The South End<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>With Mithryl, against Viper<br/><strong>Scene:</strong>Avoiding dealing with fifteen freaking-out would-be flashers<br/><br/><em>What.</em>Nephilim had had all sorts of ideas of things they might have done in response to her asking them to disperse (the worst and most far-fetched scenario was them taking her out to coffee or something, where she'd have to try and make conversation). Freaking out and suddenly becoming more... cognizant of their surroundings? That wasn't one of them. This wasn't in the range of anticipated human reactions at all. What had happened to them? She had a theory. She had another theory. She had a theory that she needed backup to deal with this. The prospect of making it someone else's problem shot that theory to the top of the list. "P-please stay calm," she said uselessly, and more usefully, "I will get help." The policemen were still watching the situation. She clicked the heels of her antigrav boots together, and hopped over traffic to land next to the observing policemen in a single bound, not even disturbing the dirt on the pavement.<br/><br/>"Officers. Nephilim, Cape. I think something's wrong with them," she said quickly, flashing her identification with mechanical efficiency, "they don't seem to have understood what they were doing. My going theory is an induced alteration in mental state, but not one consistent with recreational substances. More like datura or another deliriant, and-"<br/><br/>She slowed down, would have taken a breath if that were a thing she needed to do. "I think someone drugged them and put them up to this. Can you help?"