Matt Murdock is sitting at one of the little cafe-style tables in the Plaza, his laptop and Braille reader set up to review some legal documents while enjoying the warm sunshine and the fresh air, so much cleaner than back home in Hell's Kitchen. He seems to have recovered well from his injuries during the winter, bones mended and scars healed over, and the spring weather seems pleasant enough that he's not afraid there'll be a sudden repeat of the storm anytime soon.
The explosion catches him off-guard, louder in his sensitive hearing than most of the humans around, and his head snaps up as the Braille under his fingertips is forgotten. There's a crackle of flames and... a swearing child? What's even odder than that is the sudden murmur of what sounds like everyone suddenly enabling text-to-speech on their phones, a cacophony of emotions and symbols being read out in the most dull, dry tone imaginable.
Above his own head, unbeknownst to Matt, a few symbols begin to appear in rapid succession.
[OOC note: Because Matt is blind, he will perceive emojis as text-to-speech instead of visual images. His own emojis are visible to everyone else.]
no subject
The explosion catches him off-guard, louder in his sensitive hearing than most of the humans around, and his head snaps up as the Braille under his fingertips is forgotten. There's a crackle of flames and... a swearing child? What's even odder than that is the sudden murmur of what sounds like everyone suddenly enabling text-to-speech on their phones, a cacophony of emotions and symbols being read out in the most dull, dry tone imaginable.
Above his own head, unbeknownst to Matt, a few symbols begin to appear in rapid succession.
[OOC note: Because Matt is blind, he will perceive emojis as text-to-speech instead of visual images. His own emojis are visible to everyone else.]