A New Chance

[harmonictempest]

Judith

Make a Spot check, please.


Dark

As Dark enters the lab, it’s not difficult to spot the young chemist he seeks. Dave Blanchard is hunched over the counter at the end of one of the rows of lab stations, surrounded by notes, Bunsen burners, and all the miscellany one might expect from a distracted genius. As Dark, approaches, Dave appears to barely notice him, hands flashing from notes to laptop and back to the Bunsen burner with studied impatience. When Dark opens his mouth to speak, he is cut off before finishing the sentence with a quick One sec, one sec from Dave, who still hasn’t looked at him. He takes a deep breath, and is clearly at the critical stage of whatever it is he’s cooking up. His darting movements from notes to computer to equipment and back slow, and he rests one hand on the burner controls, entirely focused on the thermometer in the open flask. Making minute adjustments, his breathing quickens as his other hand poises with a pair of tongs. Suddenly, he turns the burner off, snatching the flask away with the tongs at the same moment and upending it into a shallow basin. Carefully, he dips the tip of the thermometer into the basin, and as he draws it out, string of the dusky gray liquid coalesces about the tip, as if the solution is a mat of wool he is drawing a thread from. When it’s about six inches long, he carefully breaks it at both ends, then holding an end in each gloved hand, dips the thread horizontally into the solution. This time, an entire sheet comes out of the tray, with the original thread as the leading edge. Dave grins and considers his creation for a moment before blowing lightly on it, at which point several small holes or rips immediately appear. Hr frowns and drops the sheet back into the solution.

At this point, he realizes he’s forgotten all about his visitor and turns to you. His awkwardness is apparent as he apologizes to you. Hey, sorry about that. I couldn’t pause the heating there to answer you right away. Isn’t that cool, though? It’s a bisymmetrical polymer – I just haven’t gotten the tensile cohesion up high enough to be really interesting yet. At least it’s just side work. He does a bit of a double take, breaking off his nerdy tangent. Ohhh, you’re the prof who sent me the email earlier, right? Yeah, sorry about that. I mean, it wasn’t really like I decided not to meet with you, I just couldn’t leave the solution alone, and the thing takes a good four hours of precisely timed temperature gradients. Anyway, uh, I’ve got a few projects on my plate already, but I’m open to hearing about another one, I guess. What are you working on?

His demeanor changes rather rapidly once he actually starts paying attention to you, and seems quite embarrassed that he ignored you before. Noting how he talks in person, it seems likely that his previous email held no calculated slight in it, and was just a somewhat awkward guy trying to sound tactful and professional. You are clearly not what he expected (Dark clearly not being your average professor), and he’s acting somewhat more awkwardly than normal as a result.

Description: Above average height, broad shouldered, but moves in a way that denotes little to no athleticism – hunched shoulders, awkward gait. Hand nearly never stop moving, and are likely tapping in odd rhythms against the sides of his jeans if nothing else. Has a tendency to look slight down when talking to someone, as opposed to in their eyes. Short brown hair, very white complexion.


Alex

The guy’s beer arrives just before you do, and he moves to pick it up. At your declaration that something is bothering him, he squeezes the orange wedge a little more than he’d intended, and some of the juice misses the rim of the bottle. Setting the orange wedge down and wiping his hands on his pants, he stares at you for a second before slowing extending his hand for the briefest of handshakes. Ben Curtis, but I think you pegged me wrong there, buddy. Nothing’s bothering me. I don’t know what kinda problem you’re thinking of, but I’m pretty sure you’re mistaken. So you don’t need to have a problem either, k? While not impolite, he’s reacting about as you’d expect from someone who’s been randomly confronted by a stranger saying strange things.

OOC: Your usually charming ways don’t seem to be winning him over as fast as you’d expected. Judging from his body language, perhaps they’re being offset by some inadvertent insult?

[Wiz]

Pulse

OOC: I'm guessing 2 trackers (since Reaper and I could each follow a target), 4 personal bugs, and 2 voice activated/ electronic sweeper deactivated tape bugs - one for the main meeting, one for any side meeting.

Pulse nods, "I guess I can take you to the location Reaper and drop you off then, and we'll see what we can see. I can take station outside the meeting, you can infiltrate and place the devices where you think best." He looks at Reaper, "Also, see if you can use your "petal" while you are in shadows - that would give us a communication between the two of us while you're phasing."

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

Crap.

Alex is slightly taken aback by his reaction, but he takes it in stride. "Excuse me, I must have misunderstood. Forgive me." He fidgets some, then backs away in the now awkward silence. Fine, then. We'll finish this drink and be out of here. He downs the rest of his drink, orders another, and drinks half of it in one gulp. Whether or not anyone else knows, he is trying to hide his beet red face behind a light drunken buzz.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark

Dark listens in silence, fixing the young man with a clinical stare whose intensity is only emphasised by the professor's glowing eyes.

"You know," Dark says, blinking for the first time in what seemed like forever, "It looks like you need some sort of vulcanising agent. The structure of the polymer itself may be preventing a chemical bond between polymer strands, there could be no problem at all with the strength of the individual chains, you just don't have any strong links between them. Essentially you wouldn't have a sweater, you'd have a thousand strands of wool laid on top of one another; which would result in total defragmentation under even small pressures and of course adjusting your rate of cooling won't help".

"However if the polymer has a regular repeating structure then you could create a specific agent that could - if using a single chemical for the bond - give you a material that would closely reflect whatever inherent properties the polymer has. A simple vulcanisation technique. However as the polymer is bisymetric you could also use a short chain molecule to form bonds between several unlike and non-reactive atoms, creating something like a chemical lattice-" Dark leans across the papers, picks up a pencil and anotates the polymer chemical chain on a sheet of notes with several short chemical bonds illustrating his point "-Providing you pick the right molecules to form the bonds you could create a chimeric material with properties normally at odds - for example a substance that reacted like rubber, but conducted electricity. It could have any number of practical applications".

"It's only a suggestion, of course," he adds, putting the pencil back down again.

"I'm Lachlan Dark, you can call me whatever you're comfortable with as you're not my student," he says extending his hand for a shake. "Do your friends call you Dave or David?"

"I think I can be of help to you, Dave. More so than any of your other professors. You see I have a special gift for bringing out the best in people; for helping them to exceed their own expectations. And I would like to apply my skills to you. I think you have remarkable potential".

"And I think that potential, and you, will wither and die in a room like this. Without someone to advise you who understands that the creative and the scientific must exist together. Someone who understands that real achievement is made only through real risk. Someone who can challenge you and give you this confidence - my confidence - that comes only from the realisation of your own greatness. Do you think any of your workaday pedagogues can really offer you anything but limited, linear drudgery? The inescapbable doom of a life spent in ordinary pursuits".

Dark is standing an arms length away. Had he been standing all this time? It seems that he didn't move at all.

"You'll be sixty tomorrow and all the fire now in your brain will be out - replaced by something else, yes; by wisdom and experience, by a lifetime of careful process. Do you imagine you wouldn't trade all the years between then and now to feel the hunger, the need, the energy? To feel your genius be a motive force in the world?"

"What am I working on Dave?" Dark repeats the question back and his light fills the young man's field of vision. His whole presence is a flag planted on a peerless mountain; inspiration and challange and achievement - glory and grace made dazling flesh.

"I'm changing the world and the course of human history".

"What are you working on?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper nods in agreement with Pulse's plan. He picks up the equipment, and after a few seconds it vanishes out of sight, absorbed into his shadowy form. He then extracts his petal from the same pocket of shadowstuff and says, "Lets try it out then, shall we?" With that he flows into the shadows beneath Pulse's cloak, disappearing from sight. He grasps the petal firmly and thinks to Pulse, <Testing, one two. Three free thieves set three thieves free.> He then waits for a response.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Quick check! [roll0]

Wait, Wha-" Was all she managed to say, before the sound overhead caught her attention.

She swore she heard someone scream "Look out!", but like a fool, she spent her last prescious few seconds looking for whom it was. Her reward came in the form of a sudden crack of glass over her head, shoulders and back, that sent her sprawling to the ground in a heap, blood tricking down her forehead as she lay amidst the shattered remnants of whatever had just struck her.

Unnhhhhh... ow... She groaned, her head too muddled and in pain to marvel that she was still awake and aware. What just...? ow...

She pulled herself weakly to her knees, grimacing at the feel of broken glass under her hands, and looked around in confusion. The people nearby seemed just as shocked as she was, and she swore she heard someone rushing to her... but it took her a few moments to really focus again and remember what was going on. She put her hand to her head, feeling warm blood against her palm, and groaned as she tried to stand up.

Not stunned... but I did just take a hideous ammount of damage in one shot, so Tasha is down and prone. Her action this turn is... standing up. I imagine there will be reaction from the others on the scene before she gets a change to collect her thoughts and do anything.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

So I realized I've been waiting for a DM post but never really left HT with a good place to get going, so I guess I'll continue to a point where he can. :smallredface:

Kid Zeus floated down on a cushion of charged particles. He used the power lines, all the electricity in the buildings below, and the general magnetic field of the planet itself to keep off of the ground like two magnets of similar charges trying to push away from each other. He slowly manipulated his relative charge, lessening the suspending effect at a controlled pace until his booted foot touched ground once again. He'd dropped down just outside the police tape that surrounded the scene of the mysterious thief's latest heist. KZ held no illusions that he could find a clue here if the police forensics analysts hadn't, but it was worth a look around to familiarize himself with the thief's methods. He'd have to check the other targets as well, see if he could detect some kind of pattern...hopefully he'd get lucky.

[MountainKing]

Jack Pretto

...that works.

Jack looked up at the workmen, still a little shocked, to say the least... he didn't move to "Claire"'s side. Rather, he stood there, mouth agape for only a few more seconds... and then Jack Pretto walked away. He didn't want to deal with this "Claire", with stuff blowing up in his hands, anything. Not today. Today was officially no longer a "Deal with things" kind of day. Jack just wanted to go get a drink, relax, maybe read a book.

OOC: Jack's action is to leave the scene.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

Pulse hears Reaper clearly (assuming he picks up his petal). However, 1337 frowns at the same moment. Yeah, no good. Looks like you’ll have to be un-phased for the amp to get a clear signal.
I figure this makes sense for two reasons. One, if light can’t get to Reaper when he’s shadow melded (because otherwise we’d see him), then other forms of electromagnetic energy would have similar trouble. Magic, on the other hand, doesn’t bother with something so petty as the laws of physics. Also, you have a mondo Hide bonus when you’re just sitting in a shadow unmelded, so I don’t think it’ll make too much difference.

If you guys have nothing further to say, just give a holler in the OoC and I’ll get your first Gnarly Coyote post up ASAP.
Edit: You know what, I’m not going to have any time tomorrow to write, so I’ll put it in now in spoilers and we’ll retcon if you guys were still busy talking/planning.As you fly downtown, 1337 keeps up a steady chitchat about the weather, stock market, and local sports teams. Or, he would if he knew anything about such things. Or if Reaper’s headset worked while he was melded into your cloak. Instead, there is unbroken silence on the way to the club. When you arrive in the area and Reaper unmelds, 1337 announces via headset that he’s gotten his hands on some blueprints. They’re not particularly surprising – a large multilevel main area for the dance floor, balcony, tables and bar, bathrooms, a small store room behind the bar, a back entrance/loading dock that leads into some larger storage areas, some of which are refrigerated, and leads down to the basement as well. The blueprints are from nearly 15 years ago, though, as the building has been under continuous ownership by the same people since then. Aside from making a new door by blasting through the wall, there seem to be only the two entrances.
If you’re within sight range of the main entrance, what you see will not surprise you: a nondescript door nearly twenty yards away from the garishly large sign for the club, with a pair of imposing men in suits flanking it and taking IDs from the crowd streaming in. As usual, pretty young girls seem to get their IDs checked far less often.


Alex

Ben sips his Blue Moon quietly, and it is not for another minute or two that he looks over and sees you hiding your chagrin in a glass. A few moments later, a newspaper plops down next to your spot on the bar, folded to a half-finished Wednesday’s crossword. Don’t suppose you know what “available job” for seven letters might be? Ben offers as opening. After your response, he asks Mind if I join you? and after sitting down, continues, Look, I didn’t mean to be rude when you came over back there. I was hoping to meet a few people here, I just wasn’t prepared for that kind of conversation opener. I guess we’re all a little on edge with all this new mutant stuff in the air, right?


Dark

Despite being stunned nearly to the point of wordlessness, Dark’s last question evokes a reflexive response, and Dave croaks out Neurochemical correlates of dementia severity in Alzheimer’s patients, especially the relative importance of cholinergic deficits. I found some promising new avenues to reducing mental deficits associated with age. You know, make the world a better place and all. This – he gestures to the bench – was just my spare time project. But, you know, your project sounds cool, too. Is it in chemistry, or materials science? Oh, and it’s Dave.


Tasha/Jack

So, I realize now that I’ve been forgetting to give Inferno anything to say. Whoops. :smallembarrassed:Jack doesn’t get far…yet. The sound of the crash is loud (and distinctive) enough to turn heads across a good portion of the park and the open-air plaza next to it. Most of the people who see it are on their way over as soon as they see a young woman on the ground surrounded by broken glass. A number of those people recall that they heard these two arguing in raised voices just a second ago, and now the young man is leaving the scene as though he doesn’t give a damn about the accident at all.

Inferno, who has been trying and failing to effectively break up the argument that has blossomed next to him, had spent the last few moments of the conversation saying “Um”, “but”, etc, without much effect, as he has no idea what to do with these two crazy people who say they don’t know each other, then start arguing while he’s still there. He flinches as the glass whizzes by, and is shocked to see Tasha laid out on the ground. He immediately moves to her and exclaims Holy crap, are you okay??, extending a hand before remembering that wouldn’t do much good. Realizing it belatedly and snatching his hand back, he looks around to get Jack to help Tasha up, and see him striding away. By that point…

As Jack starts walking away, he is almost immediately conscious of many eyes on him, and a lot of muttering. Hey, he was talking to her, right? Is he just leaving? Did he hit her with that glass?* An older woman gets up out of a park bench from which she was feeding pigeons (who scattered at the noise) and says Now hold on there, young man. I do hope you aren’t planning to be a ruffian and just walk away from that young lady, are you? She’s injured!

More people are crowding around Tasha, a few are moving toward Jack, and it’s got to be a matter of moments before someone shouts the obligatory “Call 911!”.

*Just to clarify, the guy saying this doesn’t seem to think you have powers, but like most people, he didn’t catch that the glass actually fell from somewhere, and says the above more as if you had found a pane of glass and hit her with it.


Kid Zeus

The police tape is gone and the jeweler’s is closed, but you can see him inside and he answers the door at your knock. Oh, hello. The police said they might recruit a mutant to help out, since this looked like a mutant crime. Come on in.

This is decidedly not the Tiffany’s downtown, and the entire main room of the shop is probably about 20’x20’, not counting the storeroom whose entrance is behind the counter. The owner leads you to the case in question. There’s really not much to see – if it weren’t for the bank robbery the day before, I’d probably be under suspicion of doing it myself for the insurance money. They found the same card here – nothing special about it, just a blank index card like you’d find in any office supply store, but definitely the same handwriting. They took it as evidence, though. Let’s see…here. The guy took most of the earrings out of this display, and a handful of bracelets out of the one over there. Only odd thing about that is that they’re some of the cheaper stuff we have. Still works out to a few thousand dollars worth, but nothing compared to the hit I’d have taken if he went after the pendants and necklaces.

A few of the stands have been knocked over in the display case, but there is otherwise no sign that they weren’t simply removed – you can see why the owner was worried about coming under suspicion. The storeroom was rifled through, in that some boxes were moved around and opened, but despite the disorganization it doesn’t look like anything was taken from there.

Question and investigate away, oh newly-minted detective. :-)

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

I'm assuming the guy's name was in the report.

"Okay, Mr. ______ So I guess that means the thief didn't really know what he was looking for. Guess we can assume he's not very experienced at this, right? He probably never made it past petty misdemeanors before he got these new powers that suddenly allowed him to go anywhere and take whatever he wanted." Kid Zeus mused aloud, electing to ignore the way the word "mutant" made him feel.

"So, just to go over what I read in the report, there's no evidence that he picked the lock or forced a door or anything like that to get in? They just seemed to disappear completely? No fingerprints or anything, just POOF? Gone? Also, do you have surveillance cameras or anything that could have gotten the robbery on tape? What time did this occur, do you think?" KZ stopped himself. "Sorry, asking too many questions at once. I'll let you get a word in."

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

A blur of unintelligible voices filled her head. It took her a moment to realize that it was no one speaking, but the drifting thoughts of the people around her. She struggled to push it aside, but the pain made it difficult.

Her head hurt, bad... She felt blood running down the side of her face, and had trouble focusing her eyes for a moment. The crowd's thoughts and rambling attempts to help her were hardly making it better. The first thing she noticed as her wits came back to her was Jack. The jerk was just walking away! He didn't care in the least that she might have a concussion. Either the man had... somehow caused this... or he was at least a gigantic @#$% who didn't care if she was hurt.

In either case... she was angry. Really angry.

He... tried to kill me... She groaned to the people trying to help her, one firey one in particular. Cause I knew.... he was... a mutant...

And then, to escape the terrible pain in her head, she let herself drift off into the nearest person there... Letting her body fall limp into the arms of a nearby man who was trying to help. She picked one of the myriad of voices drifting in and out of her head... and sunk into it, hoping the pain faded as she left her body.

Possessing a random anybody nearby. She's not being very picky, she just wants to get out of her aching head. If you want to pick her victim randomly, that's fine. I leave her target entirely in the hands of the DM.

[kpenguin]

OOC: Sorry guys, suffering from a bit of writers' block. Nothing interesting to post... yet.

Ace

Ryan walks down the hallway, occasionally darting his eyes behind him to check if Oblivion or his friend.... that dude from the TV... saw him...

Wait... that dude from the TV. Wasn't there something that went down today? Some sort meeting of people with powers... metahumans... mutants... superheroes... whatever.

Damn, opportunity lost. Whatever. Probably would have made him register or something.

Ryan reaches the elevator and presses the down button. His brother's room was just three floors down.

[MountainKing]

Jack Pretto

"Look pal, I've got nothing to do with her; some idiot on that scaffolding dropped a window. Given what she said to me, really, I couldn't care less. You wanna see sympathy? Go talk to the living bonfire over there. I'm sure he'd love to lend a hand." With that, Jack maneuvered around his elderly interceptor, and continued walking.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark

"Chemistry," Dark says as he sits back down on the stool and with a gesture invites Dave to do likewise. "Neurochemistry".

"Dave, I'm going to ask you to assist me an in act that is both illegal and morally questionable," Dark says seriously. "Whether you help me or not is your decision; but before I tell you what it is I need you to understand why I'm asking it".

The fire and intensity is masked, as if a cloud had passed over the sun. Dark seems more human, like a professor, like a reasonable and contemplative man a decade or more older than his physical appearance. Dark knew there were only two possible ways this conversation could end. He cleared his throat unnecessarily.

"Do you know why the most popular colour of car is black? Or why before that it was white and before that silver, blue and red? No, of course you don't; neither does anyone else. We are not privvy to the thousands of individual decisions that make parking lots change colour every ten years, all we can do is observe the end results".

"We do know that colour decisions are not free, independent choices - we know this because resale values of cars are not equal. A green car will be more difficult to sell, and will sell for less than the same model, year and milage in silver. Only about 1% of new cars sold in the US this year will be green".

"While we don't know all the factors that have led to this situation, we can explain this situation using various different theories with various degrees of scientific rigour behind them including natural selection, game theory, technological determinism and what economists call path-dependent effects. Something that happens makes something else more likely to happen in a self-reinforcing pattern".

"It is for much the same reason that almost all keyboards still have their keys in straight rows, QWERTY-style; even though it's inefficient and leads to industrial injury".

"One individual, free from outside influence, will often make a good decision - a decision that is best for them. But on a large scale, people who are not free make decisions that converge around a small number of outcomes which may be both absurd and disadvantageous to everyone. Serious men wear ties - an item of clothing which is both uncomfortable and silly. Blue cars outsell green by a factor of ten to one. There are only two political parties represented in the Congress of the modern United States and ever president has to have the same policy on corn subsidies. In 2007, people in this country paid more for a house as a percentage of their income than at any other time in history, despite the fact that there were more houses available than ever before".

"Nobody consciously decided that any of those things would happen, yet they become unavoidable and seemingly inevitable".

"A few days ago a chain of events was set in motion that if left unattended will result in destruction on a scale you cannot conceive. Nations will be laid to waste. No living man, woman or child will be unaffected by the horror. There are people like me: people with abilities; noble, well-intentioned, brave people who are using those abilities to render assistance as they can. But there are those who would use their abilities for other purposes - not dreaming of rule, but of ruin".

"The way we are perceived in these early days will fix perception forever. If we are monsters then the world will rise up to destroy us," Dark leans in to make his point. "They will fail. No bullet or blade can claim my life and I am as ageless as the ocean. If my people are sorely pressed then we will fight, and we will become such divine and fickle tyrants as never walked atop Olympus".

"But if we are able to integrate and to organise, then we will be the salvation of mankind. An end to hunger, to sickness, to war. Working together these things are so close to our grasp. A world upturned of money and position where the only honour will be merit itself; a future of unlimited possibilities and a golden age that will reach every person on earth and out into the stars".

"Of the alternatives available, I think you can see why I prefer the second and must appreciate why I work towards it tirelessly".

"But the truth is that my attempt to form cohesion, to generate this structure and force the second of these paths... has so far been unsuccessful. The mutants are too independent, they don't realise that this is a vulnerability which minorities within their own ranks will exploit, which a terrified government will exploit, which a powerless people will see as anarachy. It will later seem that a war was unavoidable and inevitable... but it is not".

Dark's winding, intimate disclosure of his thoughts has built to a pressing doom. He is grim, but doubtless, solid and determined. A lone soldier, a storied hero holding back the night with a single candle whose tiny fragile flame seems, against the backdrop of unwinnable war, to be the only light in the world.

"To make a body's immune system strong and coherent, it must be attacked; it must be forced to react. We must create a crisis - temporarily, but on a scale sufficient for the city, the world and the mutants to understand that only the mutants can act effectively. Their triumph over this adversity will create a groundswell of support for mutants, it will unlock government support and it will allow us to pursue a broader development, political and humanitarian agenda".

Dark gave a closed mouth smile. "I imagine this is a lot for you to take in. If possible I would give you some time to digest this and I appologise that neither of us have that luxury. I need you to create a nuerochemical agent that is easily administered and will induce a form of temporary insanity. No lasting effects from the drug if possible, but I can't pretend there won't be real consequences from doing it. Deaths may be involved and while I take full responsibility for that, I can't image you would ever be able to fully seperate yourself from it".

"I hope you realise the gravity of what I'm asking you and why I'm asking. I believe this is the most important thing either of us has done; perhaps the most important single action we will ever take because of what it will enable us to do in time".

"Will you help me save the world, Mr Blanchard?"

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

It takes a moment for Alex to realize Ben has walked over to him, the sweet alcohol already slowing his reaction some. "Huh? Try 'opening' and see if that fits." He listens carefully and deliberately to the words, both their inflection and their meaning, before speaking slowly and with practiced care. "I'll agree, I came on strong. That's why I backed off when I did. People watching is a big part of why I am who I am and I couldn't help but notice your reaction down the bar just a few moments ago." He chuckles darkly, keeping his attitude as someone who is completely rattled, hopefully to put Ben at further ease. "Yeah, I caught some action on the train today. Some young punk decided he was going to rob the car and...well, I'm not entirely sure what happened, but there was one of those mutants who just happened to be there. He saved me a whole lot of hassle tonight getting things cleared up. I thought that maybe this..." He motions to the half empty glass. "...would calm my nerves after the excitement. Ah, well." Alex takes another sip.

"Here, have another...on me." Alex motions to the bartender. It wouldn't be his place to push the issue any further if Ben wasn't comfortable. It was one of the unspoken rules in life: the first one to speak is the one who is at a disadvantage.

[harmonictempest]

Wow, six responses in eighteen hours – I think that’s the fastest we’ve gone yet. Woot.

Kid Zeus

Well, everything I told the cops is in the report*, but I can show you, sure. No sign of breaking in, though they said they wouldn’t be able to tell if he had a key somehow, or was good enough at picking the lock not to leave scratches – it’s just a deadbolt. Now, you probably read in the report where they said there was no physical evidence. I told them not to write that, but they said it was the proper term to use. What they mean is that there was no trace of the person left behind – it’s pretty clear someone was in here. The door was a bit ajar, and the cases had been left open. I mean, he even bumped a few of the stands over! Someone was definitely here – the police just can’t find any hair, or prints or fibers or footprints in the rug, even with those fancy new cameras. They even came through twice, and didn’t find anything either time. They said they’d get back to me, but unless the stuff shows up in pawnshops and they manage to catch it, and that’s unlikely ‘cause the stuff was pretty generic, y’know, the kinda stuff a rich high schooler buys – there’s no market in this neighborhood for the high-end stuff. He shows you some pictures of the stolen items, and you see what he means.

Oh, and the video cameras – well, you can have a look yourself. They were turned around to face the wall instead of their normal field of vision. None of them saw anything unusual before being turned, though by comparing the tapes, we did figure out that they were turned one a time, with about a thirty second pause between each. None of the cameras can see any of the others, since they’re all pointed at the expensive stuff. He leans in confidentially. I bugged one of the officers the second time around until he admitted it’s at least possible that the guy who did it is just plain good. Superpowers are the easy explanation, but nothing happened that couldn’t be explained away by a very talented cat burglar.

*The only reason for that line is because I feel like I’ve never seen a scene like this on TV where the victim *didn’t* say it.


Tasha/Jack

[roll0] Decisions, decisions – will edit in results.
Edit: Heh. Heh heh. Hehehe, brilliant.

You project your mind outward towards someone, anyone to get away from the pain. Instinctively, you latch onto the mind that seems most confident and comfortable, though confused. As you transfer, the pain thankfully disappears as you break the connection to your body. The next thing you see is Jack, departing with a firm and decisive step – whoever you’ve possessed must have been looking at him. Immediately you are struck by an…odd and disconcerting sensation. Glancing back toward your body on the ground (you’ve slumped ungracefully into the arms of a concerned guy who…really isn’t so bad-looking), the confusion resolves itself – you’ve “landed” in Inferno.

The sensation you’d noticed takes on more shape. It’s the flames that surround him constantly, which clearly don’t cause him any harm. Instead, it’s rather like sitting in a hot tub with the bubble jets on; a sort of warm, feathery tickle. It’s incredibly relaxing, especially after the pain you were just experiencing, and it’s easy to see why he seems in such a perpetual good mood.
Let’s keep this in approximate initiative order, since actions are going to continue to be important for a while. I believe it’s currently Tasha’s turn – Jack dropped the glass, Tasha dropped to the ground, Jack walked away, Tasha possessed someone, Jack kept walking, now Tasha again. Oh, and let’s set the scene while we’re at it.
The plaza where you ate is one of those outdoor mall-type areas, where they pave the street for a block or two like it was all a sidewalk and make it a pedestrian zone, with restaurants and bookstores and other classy yuppy establishments. This end of it borders on one of the larger parks, which takes up four square blocks. The sushi place was in the plaza. The hot dog vendor was at the edge of the plaza, right at the border between plaza and park. The bench Inferno was at was just a few feet into the park by a walking path; Tasha’s currently lying in front of it. Aside from going into a buildings, there are a few ways to leave the scene: north through the park, south through the plaza, or east/west following the line between plaza and park back to the street. Let’s say Jack’s about…hundred, hundred twenty feet away by now (MK, go ahead and say which way you’re walking, if you don’t mind). The crowd, while still muttering, takes no more significant action aside from what they were already doing (at least not until their initiative comes up after Tasha’s).


Ace

Check your PMs, please – I’ll edit something in here once I hear from you.


Dark

Mr. Blanchard’s spine has slowly straightened (perhaps for the first time in years), under the effect of Dark’s inspirational and weighty words. He nearly snaps to attention at “I need you..”, but the rest of that sentence gives him considerable pause. He stares at you, though not as if you’re mad, for if one thing is clear, it is that Dark is as far from mad as is possible. He struggles in silence for some few moments, opening his mouth once or twice before thinking better of it. Finally he blurts out I could do it, of course. It wouldn’t even be that hard. I mean, you could just add—but, the people! They don’t deserve that, and if the police found, the…what about the… He trails off, looking at the floor in silence. Some moments later, he looks up, much calmer and probably as close to collected as he ever gets. Look…I…well, this is clearly a lot to take in. You’re right, of course – the destruction would be unimaginable if we don’t do something to stop it. And you’re right that this is the most effective way to polarize the mutants, like turning an iron bar into a magnet. But…well…okay, you know, I’m not great with being eloquent, and all, and I know life isn’t like the movies, but there’s still some things in the movies that are right, right? And I know how this scene goes – it’d be the scene where you turn out to be the villain, and I’d be supposed to say ‘the ends don’t justify the means’, or ‘there’s got to be another way’, or something else dramatic, because even the villains who want to make something good aren’t allowed to do it in a bad way, not in the movies, right? And I know life isn’t as simple as the movies, but…I mean…sh*t, I don’t know, do we have to do it this way? I want to save the world, but isn’t there some solution to the variables we’ve got that doesn’t involve turning innocent people insane and putting them in danger? He looks at you, pleading, evenly torn between the certain clarity of your proposal and the society that filled his ears from the cradle onward that heroes aren’t allowed to make “sacrifices”, and that the ends certainly don’t justify the means. He wants to believe you, and your words are by far more powerful, but society has a twenty-year head start, and exerts its unfair advantage like a lever.


Alex

Hey, good call! Ben cheerfully jots down 'opening' across, then adds “penne” and “I Ching” down while nodding to show that he’s still listening to you. When you get to the part about the mutant, the pencil finishes the word he’s working on, then stops moving. Sure, don’t mind if I do, he says to your offer. Raising his beer when it arrives, he offers a small toast. To the mutants – may they always be as helpful as on that train today. He sips pensively for a moment, then asks thoughtfully, in that philosophical state of mind that comes between your third and fourth beer, How do you think it’ll all turn out? You think they’ll integrate normally and just be like the rest of us, plus a little something extra? Or you think there’s no going back, and we’re headed for all kindsa weird for a while?

I’m glad I get to have at least one thoughtful pondering of the mutant problem in a bar over beers. I mean, you know they’re happening all over the city.

[BloodyAngel]

Inferno...?

Much better! Tasha thought to herself, as she looked down at her own hands. The fire consuming them left no question as to whom she was. Oh, I can totally use this!

She breifly considered just calling the jerk a criminal, and chasing him down... but when the real Inferno came to, and realized what had happened, he might question why he had done so. But if she were to make it seem as if he had been the one responisble...

"Inferno" stood up tall, with a blank look on what features were still visible, and in her best idea of a monotone voice for him, spoke.

The master demands that we "talk". He spoke coldly, and moved quickly to menace the old woman, You will not stop him.

She hoped this whole thing didn't get violent... As she had no idea how to use the firebug's powers... or even, what he could do, aside from fly around and burn things. Hopefully, the mere indication that Jack had somehow taken control of another mutant, would be enough.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark

"We never like to imagine that anything good had to be created by something evil. We would much prefer to think that good outcomes simply are; they have no predecessors and owe no awful debt to history. But you are a scientist Dave, and you understand that all effects have causes".

"The casualties may be white mice in a lab, they may be frogs, they may be primates. They may be men. We buy everything at cost and most people, well, they don't want to know about it. They want to believe as you do. Artists are never faced with the choices we must make. News readers and actors and priests can never fully understand that scientists and politicians and policemen must decide between evils in hope of doing good".

"Every police officer who shoots a mugger saves two lives; every soldier in the field saves a hundred lives by taking the right one. With a word the President will condemn a hundred to death in the belief that their sacrifice will save a hundred thousand. A hundred men whose neatly typed names he will be given, compared to a unnamed and unknowable population who will never know the source of their life and liberty".

"And these things happen every day with narrower margins," Dark looks at the black window, where they are reflected, and then back. "Right now someone is making the same decision as you. Someone must put the conditioning of showmen and starlets aside and accept real responsibility; they must risk themselves in the belief that their way is right, knowing that those who wish the world to be otherwise will feel no such moral conflict".

"In the course of history events like this make a difference. Three thousand were killed at Pearl Harbour, but that infamous act changed the American perspective and defined the next fifty years - and if you were to ask me if I would trade those three thousand for the millions that were saved by our nation's later action, for the towering achievements in science made possible only through our confidence and for the half century of comparative peace that followed. I would. Of course I would. There is a price for all of it".

"If a human life has value, then its value can only be compared to another human life. One bundle of infinite potential, one unique mind, the fierce and gentle nature of one heart - weighed against another".

"All our lives are overshadowed by the simplest of mathematics".

"I can give you some assurances about this task, Dave; and you can give yourself others. We will test the chemical on a small number first. We will ensure that the duration and potential for lasting harm are limited. The chemical will be used on criminals already under detention. Those affected will only be released after dark, minimising the risk to the general populace who will be able to secure themselves in their homes. This is a spectacle - it needs to look big otherwise there will be no sense of panic and then no sense of relief when it is averted".

"I know that intervention of the mutants will be swift. You must do your best to ensure the chemical cannot be traced in the blood - or at least cannot be traced to you. I will ensure a sufficient decoy is in place so that nobody will ever suspect the true motivation for this action. This is dangerous work made as safe as I can make it".

"I can give you all of this. I cannot give you time, because I have none. I can't give you another way, because if I had one I would take it myself".

"You know, sometimes life is exactly like the movies. Sometimes a stranger walks in from the night and shows you everything is exactly what you thought it wasn't. I've taken you across a line Dave, and to an extent I'm sorry for that. You may have been happy and productive your whole life without ever having met me. But if you refuse this now, when you see what comes to pass you'll never forgive yourself for knowing you could have stopped it".

"But I think you already know the truth of it Dave; that heroes aren't people who choose between doing good and doing nothing; they're the ones who find the will to choose between the lesser of two evils".

[MountainKing]

OOC: Jack chooses... the street. He has headed toward that, in order to hail a cab, hands in his pockets, sunglasses fixed.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

Let's shape some more public opinion. "Those who choose integration should be welcomed to do so. The last thing we need are entire city blocks being destroyed by two superfreaks deciding that they don't like each other. I would like to believe that things will be normal..."

Alex looks at Ben darkly from under his hat. "The problem is that we have crossed a serious threshold. No matter how normal they try to be, something is bound to happen. Most people won't be thinking rationally, both those who are affected and unaffected. There are definitely some who would have humans destroyed. As long as they keep coming out of the woodwork, this whole city...the whole world is going to be one bad B movie." He smirks some. "Frankly, I'm surprised this didn't happen over in Japan; they go nuts for this sort of thing." After taking a slow sip, he continues.

"I would say that there is a storm coming. There have already been a series of incidents involving the mutants. Most of them criminal in nature. All we can do, when caught in the middle, is fight for what we believe in." Just a little further, then in for the kill...

[harmonictempest]

Judith

((This happens to Judy 1) as she goes home/wherever after her afternoon sushi.))
As you walk through downtown through the tail end of the lunch rush, someone going the opposite way suddenly jostles past you roughly enough to nearly knock you down. You don’t quite fall; he, on the other hand, does. As he fumbles for his sunglasses, which have fallen off, you realize that he is quite blind, which may explain why he didn’t avoid you. The short, roly-poly man with him who you can presume was guiding him exclaims “James!” and moves to help him up – apologizing profusely to you as he does so. “James” gets up rather slowly after finally grabbing his glasses, and something suddenly arrests his attention – you. Despite his obvious blindness, he seems to look straight at you, and nearly drops his sunglasses again. After an awkward moment of staring, his rotund companion senses the tension of the moment, offers quickly that they’re late, apologizes again, and bustles him off through the crowd. The entire encounter takes about ten seconds, but you can’t shake the feeling that something weird was up with that blind guy. The feeling intensifies when, five minutes later, you catch a quick movement out of the corner of your eye. Turning your head, you see the blind man’s rotund companion bringing a camera down, evidently having just taken a picture of you. Intent on examining the picture, he does not notice you turn.

Whenever you get home/your home self next checks email, there’s an email from Nerros. It is a terse, one-line request to meet him tonight at the same warehouse as before. A time, well after dark, is specified.

((OOC: You can interact with Fatty if you want to, or just skip to getting the email. Whichever Judy discovers it, it doesn’t arrive for about a half hour after the incident with Blind Guy and Fatty.))


Tashinferno (Infernsha??)/Jack

Crowds are funny things – powerful as a mob can be, it takes a running start to get going. Despite the extremely fishy business going on with the sharp dresser and the human torch apparently under his control, no one’s really interested in getting in their way, for obvious reasons (like the girl passed out and bleeding by the park bench). One or two more insults are hurled at Jack for being a jerk and leaving the scene, and one particularly earnest young man follows Inferno for a few seconds, trying to “snap him out of it”, but nobody’s interested in making a stand and possibly becoming the next target. Though Jack has already walked around her, the old woman very quickly steps out of the way when she sees Inferno coming. There are definitely cell phones out, some of which are taking pictures and some of which are calling 911 for Tasha. Beyond that, the crowd will dissipate shortly after the spectacle is over, which it essentially is, now that Jack and Inferno are exiting stage right.

((No need to maintain initiative order at this point. Jack will reach the street soon enough, but Inferno has a little time.))


Dark

Dave nods slowly, your assertion of “dangerous work made as safe as you can” evidently having swayed him, along with the promises of using it on criminals at night when there would less collateral damage. He moves back to the counter, turns a new page in his notebook, and begins speaking slowly, shaking his head every so often as if there’s water in his ears. Well, amphetamines and methamphetamines are clearly the most promising for a base – the right combination will increase general arousal, make the targets easily excitable and impulsive. Modify some testosterone with a tagging agent for quick absorption, which should increase aggression. A dopamine reuptake inhibitor should reinforce any behavior that triggers endorphin release. Sketching molecular diagrams and chemical formulas rapidly, he frowns with concentration. Well, that needs a lot of adjustment, but let’s see – it should make them increasingly aggressive, impulsive enough to act on that aggression, and feeling so good they don’t want to do anything but that. Depending on the amount of reuptake inhibitor, you could ensure they stay locked in that pattern more strongly. It’d last…well, it’ll last as long as they do. This stuff’ll send them into a state of major overdrive, and the body can only take that so long. Couple of hours, longer if they’re tough, and they’ll be wrung out like a used towel, and…well, most of them will just go unconscious when they run out of juice, but some of them will have their heart give out first. I can’t avoid that without making the mixture weak enough that they’d snap out of it. He sighs wearily, coming out of his focus as he thinks about it – twenty minutes ago, he wasn’t worrying about anything bigger than a molecule, much less a whole city.

That sound like what you need? It can stand some modification if it’s not what you’re looking for, but materials aren’t a problem when you work for the RIT chem department. I dunno what you want me to do about traceability, though – the chemicals themselves won’t be missed, and chemicals are chemicals – it’s not an industrial product that can be traced to a certain place, but there’s no way to keep it from showing up in their blood, and there’s only so many places in Rainport that have the resources for something like this. Oh, and I can only take a few syringes before that’s missed, so you’re gonna need another source for those.

How much time do I have?


Alex

Ben chuckles. I can see it now – Giant Mutant Fights Giant Robot Mutant! They wouldn’t even have to make a new movie for that one. Listening carefully, he adds I’m surprised to find you so certain that some of them will want to kill us all – the ones I’ve seen so far haven’t seemed that way at all, or really any different than a normal confused person with powers. Well, I guess there was that guy on the television…Professor Dirk? Sounded like you when he talked about a storm coming. So, fight for what we believe in, eh? Do you mean against the mutants; you think it’ll come to that? And if you’re caught in the middle, what would you fight for - what do you believe in, if you don’t mind the rather personal question? He smiles lightly.

Though he’s playing it off as casually as the rest of the conversation, you are able to tell he is deeply interested in your answer to this.

[evisiron]

Kid Zeus

Just then the petal he was carrying in a pocket went off and he started hearing Nosferatu's voice in his head. Grinning, he grabbed the petal and thought at it in response. "I'm heading to (location of most recent robbery) to investigate a mutate thief who's been stealing stuff without leaving a single trace at the scenes of his crimes. I'll tell you more about it if you want to meet me there, Nos."

Nosfertau


[PMS* to Kid Zeus] Sounds interesting. On my way. [PMS]

Nosferatu lifted off the ground and sailed through the air towards the location, slipping the petal back into a zip pocket and safely closing it away. Eventually he arrived above the appropriate address. No one was out on the street that seemed beyond the ordinary.
Clearing his mind, Nosferatu hung in the air, sensing around himself. (OOC: Power Detect, 3 rounds). Soon he 'smelled' the familiar crackling ozone that heralded Kid Zeus coming from the building below.

Dropping to street level, Nosferatu knocked on the door.

* Sigh...

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

Alex swirls his drink some. Ben is going down a path that fits in with Alex and his plans, but the sincere interest... He sobered himself up and chose his next several words carefully. "Imagine, for a minute, if there was a way to revive one of the most infamous dictators of all time. That is a danger we face. Think about what kind of power they wield. Imagine what would happen if one or two get it through their skulls to begin some hackneyed plot to take over the world. With the right resources, it would be fairly easy, despite the outpouring of heroic types.

"Consider what Dark is doing for a second. As a businessman, would you tip your hand about something like this without having planned several steps ahead of anyone who saw you on TV? I doubt so. It smacks of either carelessness...or carefully laid genius.

"I do not advocate fighting the change that is going on. All I am saying is that one should not allow their lives to be changed because of it. If they become a threat, then they must be dealt with . The gears of business must turn. Humanity must adapt and survive. I would argue that a person should resist specific laws, regulations, and other such matters that elevate them to superhuman status. They may be changed, but that does not mean they get a free pass to act as they see fit.

"Consider, as well, the sheer collateral damage that could be caused. To take what you just mentioned, downtown would have to be rebuilt every other week just so two muscleheads can fight against each other." Alex picks up a napkin and begins to fold it absentmindedly into an origami bird.

"What do I believe in? I believe that those who are most fit to survive will continue on. I want to see humanity adapt and evolve around this accident. I would see that the world keeps working on and on as it always has.

"And I would see those responsible for this incident burn for upsetting the natural order as they have. Their flagrant disregard for basic business practices has led to a disaster of epic proportions. They have opened a Pandora's Box that must, somehow, be closed before we are awash in costumed freaks who kill thousands of innocent bystanders." Never mind that their sacrifices will not be in vain, should it come to that. Grief is a powerful motivation tool. "No, this needs nipped in the bud before it can go any further."

[BloodyAngel]

"Inferno"

Well... this was a waste. Tasha thought to herself, At least my head doesn't hurt.

Sadly, it was not to last. This was getting her nowhere, and Inferno was probably the LAST person she wanted to be in at the moment. She only followed Jack for a few moments more, just enough for him to clear the crowd... before she mentally sighed as she resigned herself to returning to her own skin.

And in a flash, she was back... and so was the terrible pain in her head. Jumping back into it was almost as bad a shock as when she was initially struck. Apparently being mentally prepared meant very little. Her real body came to with a soft groan.

O...ow... She muttered, looking up hazily at the people gathered around her. It... hurts...

[harmonictempest]

Nos/Kid Zeus

((Power Detect finds nothing except Kid Zeus.))

Inside the store, the proprietor suddenly turns his head at the knock, and goes to open the door. Showing only mild surprise (after all, his day’s been pretty weird already), he opens the door for you to come in. Another mutant, eh? I guess the police thought this one’d be pretty tough. Should I uh, start over, or…? He looks questioningly at the two of you, then gives you a quick summary of everything he's told Kid Zeus. Consider yourself up-to-date.


Alex

Adapt and survive – I like that. Has a nice ring to it, and sure seems to be man’s motto, looking at history, anyway. To humanity, then, mutant or no. After clinking glasses, he adds and I think Balchem will burn plenty for this – criminal negligence on top of corporate larceny isn’t going to go over well with any judge, especially given the results. After a few sobered sips, he seems to clear his head. You know, it does get to be a bit heavy to wonder about, especially living in the middle of it all. Gotta say, it’s been nice to lose myself in the sports channel most evenings, forget about this stuff. You see the Rays eke out that win over the Twins in the tenth? Beautiful stuff; screwed up my office pool somethin’ fierce, though. You think they can handle the Diamondbacks in the Series?

((I’ll be fantastically amused if these are actually the two teams who go to the Series that year.))
He’s quite the deft conversationalist, but you’re just a smidge better, barely. Again, you can tell that the subject change is a bit more deliberate than he’s letting on, though he does seem genuinely interested in the World Series as well.


Jack

As you reach the side street back to the main thoroughfare, Inferno suddenly stops following you. After a bit of an awkward pause, he takes to the air and flies off. You reach the sidewalk without incident. As you hail a taxi and wait for one to answer, you hear sirens coming the other way, which presumably would either be ambulances coming for Tasha, police cars coming for you, or both. Either way, if you take the first cab that arrives, you’ll be gone before anything really happens.

((Successful exit, stage right.))


Tasha

You come to to see the not-unexpected circle of faces around you. There’s a jacket under your injured shoulder, and someone’s hand firmly pressed over the cut in you head, which would otherwise be bleeding freely. The attractive guy you saw before is the one with his hand on your head, and is trying to keep your head up a bit so it doesn’t bleed as much. You can already hear the sirens in the distance. The cluster of people babbles excitedly when they see your eyes open, asking you what happened and assuring you that the ambulance will be here soon, and that that weird guy left, and seemed to make the fiery guy follow him.
If you like, you can handwave yourself as far as the ER, unless you’d specifically like to play this out.

[Wiz]

ooc: hey, what about us?

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

Kid Zeus gave a nod to Nosferatu as he entered, but otherwise remained looking pensive. If this guy was just a run of the mill human he was the best cat burglar he had ever heard about. Powers were the simplest explanation, however, considering the current climate of reality. He'd knocked the stands over so that said that he was corporeal at some point, and he'd have to be in order to pick up anything. The cases and the door were another giveaway that he didn't just reach in somehow. He left them both open, which meant he had to unlock them first before taking what he wanted. Even the explanation that he had to open the cases to take out the items didn't explain the door, which he would have just phased through without any need to pick the lock. That ruled out a teleporter as well for the same reasons. Still, he was left with nothing to go on.

The teenage hero finally turned toward the shopkeeper and his vampiric friend. "Could you tell me who your competitors are in this general area? The ones that haven't already been robbed, I mean? I figure this thief has already knocked over two of the same type of jewelry stores, so he'll likely continue the pattern. If there are any more stores close by we should just stake one out and wait for him. I don't really know what else we can do."

If they found nothing tonight, Kid Zeus would return to school. The only other way of catching this guy was to maybe watch which of the students had some bright, shiny new pieces of "bling". If he didn't know the valuable stuff from the cheap stuff, and what he'd stolen was bought mostly by high school kids, it stood to reason he might BE a high school kid himself. Or maybe he was just a guy with really, really bad taste...but it was worth a shot.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

"I've had my share of things to get my mind lost in...mostly work. Yeah, I'll likely burn myself out before too long, but at least I'll be able to retire if I play my cards right when it happens." Alex shakes the cobwebs from his head as he considers the question of sports...

Sports were something that other people got interested in. They served as a way to placate the masses into not paying attention to the world around them...and, unlike in Rome of old, they pay large sums of money to follow their favorite team. This, much like any other form of mass entertainment, was something that Alex did all he could to ignore. The condition of his stock portfolio was of far more importance than which star went on a drunken tirade this week. Some people should never be given that level of status if they cannot deal with holding it. Pure and simple. I will...I will teach them the error of their ways in time.

He smiles in a friendly manner, trying to form an uneducated opinion. "Not much of a sports person, myself. However, from a pure statistical standpoint, I would say the Rays have a distinct advantage. The AL is a tougher league, from what I can tell. If a person or group is forced to struggle for their win, they are rewarded in the end with victory. It is the way of the world."

Alex hates sports. Baseball is the only sport I follow closely. You sick [censored].:smalltongue:

I'd love to see Cubs/Indians one of these years...:smallamused:

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

The owner rubs his chin thoughtfully. Well, given the thefts so far, the police are expecting him to try somewhere else that’s got small but valuable items. They’re just making rough guesses, but if he sticks to the same area, there’s a pretty small number of places he could be targeting, if he’s already robbed here and the bank down the street. He lists off a number of businesses, some of which Kid Zeus may recognize, being from the area: another local bank (Gloveton Local), another jewelry store (Rings ‘N’ Things), and two electronics stores (Game Hut and Wireless Jungle). They told me to keep in mind that this makes a lot of assumptions – that he’ll stick to the same type of thing, the same area, and not skip a night. They’ve alerted the owners in question, so it’s pretty much a waiting game now.

((Either by knowing the area or comparing addresses, you can find out that the four businesses named are all within a circle about 1/3 mile across, or about 5-6 city blocks.))


Alex

Ben smiles at your utilitarian response, which is doubtless more philosophical than the answer he’d expected. That’s quite the Darwinian view there, Alex. Too busy for sports, I take it? A shame – they’re one of the finer pleasures in life. Nothing like turning your brain off for an evening every so often to keep you sharp. He downs the rest of his beer, and taps the bartender for another – that’s what, his fourth? You wonder when he’s gonna start showing it, or if perhaps he already was and you just don’t know him well enough to see it yet. The bar is slowly starting to filter out as Happy Hour comes to a close.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

"Sometimes, one needs to step back and take a look at things from such a perspective. If natural laws govern everything, then Darwinism becomes applicable to all circumstances." Alex eyes Ben a little suspiciously, trying to decide if the man had an iron liver or if there was something else going on. If he could hide the fact that he had been affected by this incident, then why couldn't other people be? "As for me, I unplug through music and games. It may be a little bit of a generation gap, but it works for me. Nothing takes your mind off a bunch of superpowered people like being one yourself in a virtual world." Alex spoke very carefully, making sure the last little bit did not sound as if it was tacked on to cover his tracks.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosfertau listened, occasionally nodding.

“There are a lot of assumptions there, but I believe it might be worth a shot. Kid Zeus, any ideas how to go about this? Fly by patrolling seems like the obvious choice, but might not be the most discrete. And staking out one area will leave the others vulnerable…

As for Name That Power, it seems like it would be someone with powers. I can’t see anyone this good only taking the second rate stuff.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking through a mental database of fictional super heroes and villains.

“Hmm… you know, it could be telekinesis. That way they could move the cameras before coming in, float with some kind of bubble to stop the normal detritus and footprints, and wouldn’t have to touch anything, hence no fingerprints. If they where good enough, they could move the parts in the lock without ever touching them.
Am I missing anything?”

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Skipping to the ER is fine with me. Tasha's in far too much pain to really do much else. She's not nigh invulnerable, after all. :smallfrown:

[Wiz]

OOC: I seriously thought about finding a post a page or so back and posting this a as a spoiler inside it... then waiting for you to ask me about what we were doing, just so you could experience my own personal joy. ;)


As you fly downtown, 1337 keeps up a steady chitchat about the weather, stock market, and local sports teams. Or, he would if he knew anything about such things. Or if Reaper’s headset worked while he was melded into your cloak. Instead, there is unbroken silence on the way to the club. When you arrive in the area and Reaper unmelds, 1337 announces via headset that he’s gotten his hands on some blueprints. They’re not particularly surprising – a large multilevel main area for the dance floor, balcony, tables and bar, bathrooms, a small store room behind the bar, a back entrance/loading dock that leads into some larger storage areas, some of which are refrigerated, and leads down to the basement as well. The blueprints are from nearly 15 years ago, though, as the building has been under continuous ownership by the same people since then. Aside from making a new door by blasting through the wall, there seem to be only the two entrances.
If you’re within sight range of the main entrance, what you see will not surprise you: a nondescript door nearly twenty yards away from the garishly large sign for the club, with a pair of imposing men in suits flanking it and taking IDs from the crowd streaming in. As usual, pretty young girls seem to get their IDs checked far less often.

Pulse

Pulse communicates the layout and events to Reaper via petalphone, and waits his thoughts on how to proceed.

[MountainKing]

Jack will likewise time warp, if that's alright. He doesn't have anything really planned until he meets up with Oblivion at night time, and isn't the heroic sort who's going to try and seek out any sort of mischief. That said, he'll definitely take the first cab.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

CJ, ever capable of playing cool, takes your ten without comment. Folding it over, he uses it as a coaster, pushing it and your glass back to you. The “tip”, however, he counts carefully, eventually pursing his lips, putting the money back on the counter, folding his arms, and leaning back against the shelves to study you.

What I tol’ you ‘bout keepin’ yo’ fights in da ring?
Like I tol’ you, this Gabriel fellow’s been in wit da wrong crowd fo’ a long time. Used ta be hot stuff, a freelance dealer, but lost his edge ‘bout a year ago. He came in here las’ night, beggin’ ta be in da game – tol’ me he need’d the money real bad. I think he was getting sourced through one a’ da gangs, and if he tells ‘em he *had* their money and some punk called Draven stole it offa him…

He gives you an even stare.
*skin check* Nope, still not black

Oblivion

Looking at CJ, his smile slowly faded from his face, as his head made a minute shake of deep disappointment.
As his chin fell to lean against his chest, his raven hair obscuring his features, his hands rose to grasp his skull like a gently set vice.

Silently, his shoulders began to shake, whether in humor or it’s opposite expression, was, for the moment, unclear.

CJ, taken aback, looked both confused and surprised. After taking a moment to study his friends reaction, he extended a hesitant hand of support, resting his massive mitt on Draven’s shoulder and doing his best to be consolatory, despite the unexpected and unusual turn in his friends emotional state.

“Look bro, ah aright? I didn’ mean no…” he began, a rare moment of uncertainty for the usually confident and powerful street veteran.

It was then that a rumble of cynical laughter rose from Draven, growing gradually louder, it’s alien timbre becoming more and more evident as it increased in volume, it’s sound sending ripples across the surface of the untouched drink that rested before him on the bar.

If not for Draven laughing so hard, it would have appeared he was crying quite profusely, because at that moment, a dark pool was forming beneath Draven's down-turned visage. Sliding into view, the translucent, queerly lively liquid slowly expanded across the bar in CJ's general direction.

Hastily withdrawing his hand, he took a rapid step back, eyeing his friend with uncertainty.

His voice, full of a new depth of misanthropic fluid menace, rose from behind the curtain of his dark hair.

“Street fights? I thought you knew me better than that. Card hustlers? I thought you were better than that. As for this gun loving, yellow bellied, cheating bastard and anyone who might be stupid enough to back him up…well…”

Whipping his face violently upwards, his hear swinging clear of his features, the viscous matter upon the bar rose up in accord and working in reverse, like a spectacle in a madman’s nightmare, the place where his face should have been a squirming black mask of writing darkness.
Languidly it withdrew into Draven’s face, eyes, ears, nose and mouth, loose strands adhering to shoulders and chest only to release and slither beneath the squirming façade from which slowly emerged a face, a smile creased his lips, disturbing in it’s supreme confidence, even as he, Oblivion, arose and spoke.

“Dealing with him will be my pleasure.”

Bringing his gloved finger down on the bar next to the money with pointed authority, his digit producing a shallow but noticeable indentation in the old lacquered hardwood bar top, he cocked his head to the side as he spoke.
“This is your buy in, plus interest, now, help your old friend make sure that this never happens again. Anything and everything that you think might be helpful though, no matter how distantly related. You do know how I detest loose ends.”

[harmonictempest]

((Time I've had this week...time, but not a lot of server access.))

Alex

Ben chuckles at the mention of a generation gap. I know…you can’t pull my nephew out of his VR setup for love or money. My brother cut him off recently, when he started getting into Third Life – the concept was a bit involved, even for him, and he’s pretty open-minded.

Glancing at his watch after a few more exchanges, Ben says reluctantly Well, that’s the end of Happy Hour, and I’m about at my limit anyway. He stands up with the tiny sway of a man used to the effects of a bellyful of alcohol. Say, I don’t believe I caught your last name. ((Assuming you offer it)) Well, Mr. Catham…are you a poker player? If you’ve not got much to do tonight, a few friends and I have a regular weekly game later this evening. Just a few guys, a few drinks, and a few cards – no stakes high enough to be painful, just unwinding. You interested? There’s room for a fifth.

((It's later enough that you would meet him there, not go with him now.))


Nos/Kid Zeus

The shopkeep has little to add at this point, having given you all the information he has.


Tasha

The ambulance is all business, as is the ER at St. Paul’s that they bundle you off to; the nice young man accompanies them when they ask for a witness, and gives his name as John in the ambulance. After examining and bandaging the cuts on your head and shoulder, they determine that you have a mild concussion, but nothing that won’t take care of itself in a day or two. They prescribe you a mild antibiotic in case of infection, and tell you you can leave whenever you want, though you’re welcome to rest in the bed they’ve got there for you first. As the nurse exits the room, she lets in a police officer who has clearly been waiting outside. He comes in, accompanied by John and politely introduces himself. “Afternoon, ma’am, I’m Officer Williams, and if you don’t mind, I’ve got a few questions for you. One of the bystanders at your accident in the park called 911, claiming there was a mutant there, attacking and mind controlling people. I talked to the young man outside already, but I’d appreciate hearing your side of the story, if you’re feeling well enough.”


Pulse

((Yep, the dangers of subscriptions, I fear. I learned a game or two back in about the same way you did (plus a little extra embarrassment on my part) to actually check the thread in case of edits, so that’s a brand of joy I understand.))


Jack

((Hmm, I don’t remember you planning a meeting with Oblivion. TOA has experience already in this game playing his character in two time zones simultaneously, though, so if you want to start that meeting now, go for it.))


Oblivion

After his semi-shocked withdrawal, CJ c*cks his head slightly and regards your new features. After a moment, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he nods approvingly. Ahright… Ahright, Draven – didn’ know if you still haddit in you, or if that chick wuz makin’ you soft. Nice ta see you don’t just still got it, but a lidd’l sum’tin extra. You know, I took that tip ‘cause I already spent half that much greasin’ a few palms quietly taday. You want whadI *think’s* gonna be helpful, or whadI *know’s* helpful? ‘Cause I got me a few frens, and they know what he done taday right down ta where he ate foah lunch. You think you c’n do anythin’ interesting with that, or you need me to fine out moah?

He has for you a name, number, and address of the Suits dealer who supplied Anthony with his last batch of materials (the one that got him into debt). It looks like Anthony had a few cops nosing about in his affairs for a few days a week back, and got scared enough to stash his stuff away for a week, during which time a pipe above it in the crawl space where it was hidden started leaking and ruined it. Now he owes the Suits about 5 grand, which he *had* until you stole it from him. He spent the morning today making phone calls, then went to lunch at a café, and the dealer stopped by briefly.

I’ve left the details on the dealer purposely a bit fuzzy. Either you or I can fill them in in the next post or two.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper responds through the petal, <Move in and strike up a conversation with the bouncers so I can check for shadows inside. If there aren't any of sufficient size within ten feet of the door, I'll let you know, so you can short a light or something. I'll do my bit and petal you when I need an exit. Reaper out.>


I figure that when I'm shadow melded, I can detect shadows in range with decent accuracy to know whether or not there are any in range. If there are, I jump in. If not, I signal Pulse.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

Alex chuckles some. "You sure I won't be a literal fifth wheel?" The mirth in his eyes is genuine and not enhanced by the couple of drinks he has had. The chemicals had reconfigured him slightly, both requiring alcohol to keep his body stabilized and diverting it directly, allowing him to drink more. "If your people would have me, I would be honored. It has been a while since I've played poker...I've not let myself have the time since college. However, in my line of work, I gamble on a daily basis. It sounds like a good time." His gloved hand digs briefly in his pocket and produces a small piece of paperboard. "My card. If you need to get ahold of me, all the important information is there." With that, he tips his hat to Ben as the man leaves, finishes his drink, settles his tab, and heads out.

Something seemed to be in the air this evening. The chill wind from earlier was gone, leaving clear skies (?) and a crisp chill in the air. It delighted Alex to no end, enhancing his mood to the point of happiness. Genuine happiness, mind you. This was one of those rare moments where the city was stripped away and Alex felt one with the vibe of the planet. A very good night is coming...

He turns toward his apartment in no real rush, smiling warmly at those he passes by. Should no one stop him, he retires to his kitchen to make some dinner before heading to the poker game (I will assume he will recieve directions before they part.)

[harmonictempest]

Reaper/Pulse

This a dance club, which is good and bad news.The good news is that there are shadows everywhere, which yes, you can sense when they’re within 21 feet and you’re shadow melded. The bad news is that being a dance club, those little flashy lights are also everywhere, and it’s nearly impossible to predict which way that tacky disco ball will flash next. So if you take 10 on your Jump checks, you’ll make it into each shadow just fine, but every 15 seconds or so, a flash of light hits you directly. The lights are changing so fast, though, that by the time you’re knocked out of the shadow meld, you’re back in shadow again, where you have an enormous Hide bonus and it's still nearly impossible to see you. So, by picking your way slowly, and with regular occasional accidental de-meldings, you can make your way safely around the main area with little chance of being spotted. You’re aware that there is a small chance you’ll be spotted during the split-second moment when you’re hit by a disco ball flash, but also aware that it’s pretty darn unlikely (I’ll be rolling very small percentage chances for a mishap of some kind, but if a mishap actually occurs you’ll have a chance to make an action to avoid anything serious). So, dramatic and it’ll keep your blood pumping, but not a huge amount of actual danger. Plus, of course any circumstance bonuses that might keep the bouncers less than alert. You’ll need to tell me what you’re looking for as you wander about, and be specific so I know how many percentage chances to roll.


Alex

((The weather is indeed as pleasant as you describe.))
You get an address he scribbles on the back of a business card, which you need barely glance at, as you recognize the address of an apartment complex not distant from your own; unsurprising, since the bar is a local establishment.

The meeting time is 10pm. When you arrive, you are struck by how like your own the apartment complex is – apparently high rent does not make one immune to formulaic buildings plans (though both apartments are still quite nice). A knock on the door causes a quick “Come in”, and if you enter, you’ll see Ben and two other guys lounging along the counter, enjoying a beer while waiting for you and the other player.
When you flip Ben’s business card over, you see that he works for Boeing-Martin, the government contractor. At the poker game, you recognize one of the two guys there; he’s from one of the larger law firms in town (fill in name and company as you like).

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shakes his head slowly and petals the Reaper.

I'm landing on the roof to let you get a sense of the shadows inside. Don't forget how I'm dressed... it might not be a full blown spandex costume, but it's not something you wear to engage in casual conversation with bouncers either. Let me know if that doesn't get you close enough to sense the shadows inside.

[harmonictempest]

The roof, however, will *not* be close enough to sense shadows inside, as Reaper quickly discovers.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper petals Pulse, <I need to get closer. Try a side wall, adjacent alley, whatever you've got to stay out of the bouncer's sight. I can sense shadows fifteen, maybe twenty feet out, hard to tell distances with just shadows. I'll let you know when I get a hit, and I'll jump in. Reaper out.>


If at any time during Pulse's movements, I get in range, I petal him and jump into the building. I'm looking for anyone dressed oddly or acting suspiciously, as opposed to dancing, hanging out, etc. Also for any adjoining rooms in which the meeting might be being held. I keep low and keep my eyes closed, so even if seen, I just look like an oddly persistent shadow.

[Wiz]

Pulse checks for roof entrances, if there are any, he can probably jimmy the lock, but of course he will check for security. If security looks high, he will just make sure the roof exit is blocked, leave his glider up there, and work his way down into an alley.

[harmonictempest]

This is a superhero story...of COURSE there are roof entrances!!Pulse immediately spots several roof entrances...there are several skylights looking down on the main club area. Other than that, there appear to be a few ventilation ducts that a dedicated ((Medium)) person could get through, though where they go, God only knows. There appears to be no door - roof access is probably granted by the fire escape ladders you saw on the side of the building. Looking a little closer and poking around, though, you find a trapdoor behind the stand of pipes. It is padlocked.
Spot check was 27 and Search check was 24. Geez, man. :-)

Also, important - how are you communicating with 1337? By my calculation, he can only talk to Reaper vie headset, and Reaper hasn't unmelded yet, so you guys haven't actually gotten that blueprint info yet. Intelligence check for Pulse says that the Tech Guy might have useful info/insight here (even if I'm wrong and you have already heard about the blueprints, you feel like you should tell him about what you've seen so far).

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

The headache faded slightly as she rode to the hospital... and she was more than happy to zone out for most of the ride. The doctors told her that she was in decent shape, and offered her some painkillers, but she declined. Her mother was already going to have a fit over the hospital bills. Ambulence rides weren't cheap... and the school only offered health care if you used the doctors on their list of approved medical care centers. She snuck some advil from her purse instead.

Jon stayed with her for most of the time. Nice guy... but she got the idea he wouldn't have been so eager to help had she been anything but a pretty young woman. By the time the officer came to see her, she'd already run over what she planned to say in her head several times.

Hello officer. She said, imitating as best she could, a shy young girl who wasn't used to speaking to the police, I'm sorry... I caused trouble. I knew... that man was a mutant. I saw him on the street. He was walking along, talking to himself... and making... little bursts of fire, and things as he went. I... um... I'd never seen a mutant up close before. Just saw the ones on TV who put out that fire... and.... I thought he was one of the good ones.

She paused for a second and closed her eyes... taking Jon's hand to add to the effect of a poor, hurt girl who'd just made a mistake.

I followed him for a little bit, into a sushi place. He was eating with some woman... I don't know who she was. I was afraid to talk to him... so I just listened a bit... ate... left. I heard his name... but not much else. Then, when I left... fire-guy showed up for... food, I guess? He's one of the nice mutants, so I went to talk to him instead. Then, that guy... Jack. He came out of the sushi place, and started talking to us. He was... acting all nice... at first. I told him I'd just been following him because I'd never met a mutant-guy before... but... He didn't believe me, I guess. He threatened me. And then...

She paused again, squeezing Jon's hand and shivering a bit at the sheer memory of her terrible, terrible ordeal. (heh)

I... I heard him... in my head. He was talking about something... but... in my head, I heard his voice. It said "Don't... um... don't f*** with me bitch. If you saw anything, I'll kill you.". I... I don't know.. what he thought I saw... but... He got... really mad. I probably should have... run, I guess... but I thought with all the people around... he wouldn't attack someone out in the open like that. I wanted to stay near fire-guy, in case Jack got violent. Then... T-then... I heard him laugh... in my head... and then...

She stopped again... her tone building up in a beautifully choreographed play of trauma and tragedy that ended with her looking as if she might cry. She gave it a moment, as Jon and the officer tried to console her... before she finally spoke again.

T-then... the thing... hit me. I... um... I don't remember much... after that. Do you think he might... try to find me?

To quote Jon Lovitz... Acting! I shall spin a tale of woe and terror... at the hands of the wicked, wicked mutant, Jack... who's first and last name she will give to the police. (She got it via telepathy in the sushi place)

As for the (massive) lie. I'll take 10 on a bluff if I can... which would give me a 26. If this counts as a lie big enough that I can't take ten... the roll is...

Bluff: [roll0]. Though I'll take ten if I'm allowed instead, no matter how good or bad the bluff roll.

[harmonictempest]

The police officer has been taking notes throughout, adding to what is presumably John's version. When you finish, he continues writing for a moment, annotating what he's written earlier, then turns to you. All right, ma'am, we'll look into this. Find out what this Jack Pretto has to say about the incident. Do you...wish to press any charges against him? I'm not saying it's a good or bad idea, just filling out the forms here. Lowering his voice slightly, he adds Though it you want my opinion, the first big mutant case in gonna tie courts in knots, especially trying to figure out how to collect evidence on something like this - even if you're right, you probably don't want to be involved in that circus.

Any case, if there's nothing else, Miss Verraine, I'll be heading back to the station to file my report. He and John both stand to go.
You're also free to leave the hospital...long as you go by way of the checkout counter. The officer is being rather formal, a "just tell me what happened" attitude, and through his formal and serious demeanor, it is difficult to tell how much of your story he believes. He does at least seem to have promised to check into Jack.

It's somewhere in the mid-evening dinner time range.

And just fyi, both the police and hospital forms asked for identification of various forms, including valid driver's license. Since you were mostly unconscious, someone thoughtfully put your purse in the ambulance with you, so you have it.

((Also, why is it that everyone in the world seems compelled to shorten "John" to "Jon"?))

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse will continue, as he has been, relaying everything he gets from 1337 to Reaper via petalphone. Given his high intelligence, and encyclopaedic (nearly eidetic) memory, he should be able to transmit this with a high level of confidence.

A padlock on the outside of a trapdoor that goes to the roof suggests that there is nil expectation of anyone exiting from said trapdoor... hence it is unlikely I will run into anyone if I enter this way.

He gestures at the padlock briefly.

Disable Device: [roll0]

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

I don't know... I guess I... really can't. Tasha will say with a sad tone, So... mutants who can do that can just... get away with it? Or that spider one that attacked some people? He just gets away with it? Or the one that blew up that one building downtown? I... I got attacked and... and nothing happens?

She'll sigh, and slump a bit. Slipping into the officer's mind to see what he knew, if anything. With any luck, he was involved in the downtown bombing. May as well make the best of a bad situation, after all.

Attempting telepathy on the cop. Serves him right for telling a poor, victimized girl like me, who can't roll to save her life, it seems (and people onder why I take 10 so much), that it's probably a bad idea to report her attack. DC to save is 25, I believe.

It IS nice to know I can probably act with impunity. My power is hard to prove.

If he fails... the "questions" she'll ask will be sent to you via a PM HT. :smallbiggrin:

[The_Snark]

Judy

He's taking a picture of me? What the hell? Her first impulse is to lose herself in the crowd; she knew how to keep from being followed, now that she knew someone was following her. She had a jacket she could reverse or take off, she had sunglasses in her pockets...

Except running wouldn't tell her anything, and they'd still have a picture of her. Why? Her mind goes back to the weird collision with the blind man, who she could have sworn had seen her. Okay, let's assume he can see me, or smell that I'm different. Everyone else seems to. I'm starting to think I have pheromones only other mutants can smell, or something. She seriously thinks about that for a second before dismissing it, and almost heads over to her computer to look up before remembering Kid Zeus hadn't recognized her at all. Neither had Jack, for that matter, and she'd been a terrible liar at Alex's place. Probably because she'd felt guilty about keeping that from him.

Well, they knew what she was, then; she could just walk up to him and ask what he thought he was doing without risking anything. Crazy superhuman stuff aside, taking pictures of women on the streets was kind of creepy. She almost does it, too.

But... every time she'd done this, the conversation had ended up spiraling way out of control. The two costumed heroes, Nerros, Alex, Even Jack... talking to people on their own terms just wasn't working for her. The little sparks of resentment and frustration, accumulated over the past two days of lying and being dragged into spotlight after conversational spotlight, finally flare up a bit.

Okay, then. She'd do things differently this time.

She has crossed the street, removed her jacket and tied it around her waist, and eyeing Camera Guy to see where he might be keeping his wallet before it sinks in how stupid this was. S***, I do not do this anymore! But he took a picture. What was he planning to do with that? Something involving her, and without her permission. That was a good enough reason. She put her sunglasses on, started jogging. Those, plus the clothing change, should keep her from being spotted; casual recognition usually depended on one or the other.

The fact that he had just now been looking at a picture of her might make it chancier, she realizes as she hits another crosswalk ahead of him and starts back in his direction.

Too late for that, really.

She swerves a bit to avoid hitting him on the sidewalk, just a mid-city jogger passing by. Except she misjudges, jostling him a bit with a passing "Sorry."

Not an actual misjudgment, of course. She slipped the wallet into her pocket deftly, before he could really turn around and while he was still shielding that side of her from everyone else's view.

I'm not sure if Judy's attempt to blend into the crowd counts as a Disguise check (the obvious one) or a Hide check (which is used to blend into crowds), but either way, she'll take 10 on that one, for a result of 27 (Hide) or 18 (Disguise).

She'll also take 10 on Sleight of Hand, giving her a 23, and I'm spending an action point to add to that, since getting caught picking a pocket would be really bad:

Small virtual dots
Spin about and come to rest
Striving for the sky.

[roll0]

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

When 1337 hears about the trapdoor, he looks it up in the blueprints before informing you that it doesn't appear to be marked (which isn't unusual), but does seem like it's more likely to lead into the back storage areas than the main club area. Diffidently, he also offers that it seems more likely to him that the meeting would be back there, as opposed to somewhere off of the main club area where some drunk RIT frat boy might stumble in.

Your first effort to manipulate the lock's components is unsuccessful, but after another try or two it reluctantly pops open, revealing a dark crawl space about four feet deep.


Tasha

The officer shakes his head. Criminals don't get away, ma'am. It's just gonna take the courts a bit of time to figure out how to deal with this, just like with the rest of the world. Eventually a mutant's gonna kill someone in some way we never even dreamed of, and then we'll have to figure out how to try the case. Maybe they'll decide it's all right to have a mind reader on staff down at the station, but I think not. I ain't saying that criminals are going to get off easy, just that it'll take time to adjust. You've got a bump on your head, and I know it hurts, but it might be a bigger headache trying to go to court over it. No need to take my opinion, though, ma'am.
Awaiting telepathy questions. May I assume you gave your identifying information?


Judith

Sorry, yours is gonna take a bit of work - I love it when my players are smart!..but I have to flesh out some more stuff to answer your post. I'll post OOC later when I edit in your answer here.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse pops open the trapdoor and slowly levitates himself down into it magnetically. He is keeping from touching the sides so that if it is an airshaft he will not warp the sides of it while crawling through it, thus giving himself away. He will not activate a light, but will use his magnetic senses to maneuver and feel his way along.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark

Everyone thought of it as crossing a line; like moral geography. But the lines of longitude and latitude don't exist on the surface of the earth and no star provides a truly constant bearing. Viewed by a greater mind than possessed by any man before him, Dark saw the moral structure of humanity as pure conditioning: circumstance without purpose.

Any mind that would accept one form of conditioning would accept another. Because the natural state of human happiness was in bending before an absolute will.

"Ingestion would be easier. Injection will be time consuming. Can that be done? With a sample by tomorrow night?"

((Sorry for slow posting - the website has kept me out pretty much solid for the last week - and still isn't letting me change font colours))

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

Alex walks in, chuckling to himself. "Always nice to see that mindless conformity when building isn't dead. I do not believe I have met these gentlemen here, though you look familiar..." He hangs his coat and hat wherever Ben indicates he can, but leaves his sunglasses on. After all, it is poker night. I could have sworn...that guy, I think he works for Mythos and Barns. Always thought it was a funny name, but their skill is no joke."Alex." He offers his hand if either of them looks like they would shake, but quickly retracts if neither bites.

[harmonictempest]

Judith

The man barely notices, busily changing some obscure setting on his camera. The wallet contains little: a driver’s license, three credit cards, about $15 in small cash, and a receipt from a mid-priced restaurant chain in town. Everything that has his name on it agrees that he is Harry Crawford, and lives at such-and-such address in an upper-middle class area in the northeastern part of town. The most interesting thing is his insurance card, which claims that Mr. Crawford is in fact an M.D. of…some variety. Hard to tell with all the gobbledygook on the card, which might as well be a lot of gibberish to you (it’s various acronyms and abbreviations and phone numbers for various types of services).


Pulse/Reaper

((So…you’re flying flat on your stomach, in a Superman sort of way?))
The crawl space is about four feet deep, a musty, cobwebby gap between the ceiling and the rafters. It leads off in all directions except behind you (the direction of the main dance floor). There’s all sorts of ducts, pipes and wires crisscrossing through here, but not enough to restrict travel. 1337 comes over the radio and says that you’re headed into the back area of the building, and while he can tell you what rooms connects to which and where the hallways are, it’s a tossup what they’re currently actually being used for.
((Where to, chief?))


Dark

The chem. student shakes his head. Not without making it a lot weaker and slower-acting. Getting to the brain via the stomach is one of the slowest and most lossy transport mechanisms out there. If you wanna avoid syringes…hmm, I might be able to dehydrate it, make it into a powder. Then you’d just have to get ‘em to snort it, so it’d hit the mucous membranes in the back of the nose. I dunno, hold their mouth shut until they have to breathe through their nose or something? Your problem, I guess – I think I can do that, though? Do you have a plan for the traceability? Maybe everyone will think it’s Balchem, right, ‘cause they already know Balchem’s a chemical company? If you could find me some inert agent to add to it that is manufactured by Balchem…say, some bonding agent used in larger mixtures. That might make it look like a Balchem product, you think? You said you had a plan for throwing suspicion elsewhere – what is it? He’s excited now, clearly more than he’s used to, and beginning to babble slightly.


Alex

They both shake your hand cordially – the guy you recognized is Jack (whose name was on the tip of your tongue, man), and the other one is Brendan, who offers no last name or occupation (not unusual), but looks bit like Andy Bernard from the office; the sort of businessman in his late twenties who’s still a good ol’ frat boy at heart. After he shakes your hand, he takes a healthy swallow of his beer, which lends further weight to your impression. Ben chimes in, Help yourself to anything. You came into a rather odd tangent, actually; we were just debating, who would be the more successful entrepreneur in a free market – Death, or Taxes?
((Ah, the conversations that never would happen without alcohol! They all appear pretty sober at the moment, though, just relaxed. The "anything" Ben mentions are a few types of beer, and some generic chip 'n' dip type snacks.))

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

After his semi-shocked withdrawal, CJ c*cks his head slightly and regards your new features. After a moment, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he nods approvingly. Ahright… Ahright, Draven – didn’ know if you still haddit in you, or if that chick wuz makin’ you soft. Nice ta see you don’t just still got it, but a lidd’l sum’tin extra. You know, I took that tip ‘cause I already spent half that much greasin’ a few palms quietly taday. You want whadI *think’s* gonna be helpful, or whadI *know’s* helpful? ‘Cause I got me a few frens, and they know what he done taday right down ta where he ate foah lunch. You think you c’n do anythin’ interesting with that, or you need me to fine out moah?

He has for you a name, number, and address of the Suits dealer who supplied Anthony with his last batch of materials (the one that got him into debt). It looks like Anthony had a few cops nosing about in his affairs for a few days a week back, and got scared enough to stash his stuff away for a week, during which time a pipe above it in the crawl space where it was hidden started leaking and ruined it. Now he owes the Suits about 5 grand, which he *had* until you stole it from him. He spent the morning today making phone calls, then went to lunch at a café, and the dealer stopped by briefly.

I’ve left the details on the dealer purposely a bit fuzzy. Either you or I can fill them in in the next post or two.

Oblivion

His expression remains thoughtful, but otherwise unresponsive until he mentioned the Suit dealers info.
At that, a wolfish grin slowly but surely took over his face. With the mention of the cops, his eyes positively twinkled like a clear night sky.

Pausing a beat he finally said "What can I say? Your the man. You definitely deserve every cent I just dropped on ya my friend."
Casually bringing out his cell phone and preparing to type up some notes, he said "Let me get that info down, and I'll be on my way and out of your...well, way. Wouldn't want to scare off the evening crowd now would I?"

Knocking back his drink, he bit off a chunk of the empty glass and with a faint smile and faraway look chewed it thoughtfully, leaning on the bartop. Spitting all the shards back into the glass like so much crushed ice, even picking a rather stubborn shard out manually, he leaned over the bar and said in a stage whisper "I've always wanted to do that."

With that, after exchanging a few last words and hearty farewells, he departed into the oncoming dusk, sweeping out of the bar like one meant for the night to come.

Gettin' creative with the power flauntin'. Oh, yea.

I'll PM you some details on the dealer I was considering a little later, but I thought it would be fun to have him tied to MK's PC somehow (with his permission of course). What were the "materials" anyway? Drugs or guns? I'm guessing drugs. Leaky pipes would take a long time to really do any damage to quality weapondry. I'd also prefer the former explanation, as it would make the tie in far more plausable. Of course, I am always open to negotiation.

One more thing. Was the petal message nurse Jen sent general, or specific to Nos only? Just trying to figure out where I'm planning on heading next...

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse glides through the crawlspace, toward the back of the building, listening for people talking and or sensing for some kind of electromagnetic chaos that might be for bug blocking...

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

First off... MWA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Ahem.... sorry about that. Anywho... she'd have given them all her correct info. After all... she's not on trial here. Second of all, from now on the questions she plucks from him will be from that list I gave you from the top down... ok? Four a round...

So... So what do you think I should do? Just... just let it go? She'll say, her voice sounding disheartened, Do you... do you think... I'm lying?

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

Making effort to not be seen as he left the bar, leaving by the back exit and stealthily moving a few blocks away before drawing out the petal and projecting his thoughts.

[PetalMessage]:Jen, I'm on my way. Let the front know you'll be expecting me.
Nosferatu, I'm ready for your guess whenever you're ready to make it. Well, sort of. It is a limited time offer.

Being certain to take a circuitus route as he returned to the hospital, he tumbled effortlessly through the falling shadows, this movements an ode to the city, flapping leather, scraping concrete and clanking steel blending into an nearly seamless chorus.

I never dreamed I'd see the city from this angle. Ugly as this city can be, it does have it's own special charm.
Almost peaceful even.
Only a matter of time before someone ruins that.

Pausing, he crouched upon the edge of an office buildings roof like a gargoyle swathed in shadows and guttering flames as the last of the suns light was swallowed by the horizon.

The most opportune time to strike as well. We're all still disorganized, attempting to get our bearings, even days after the event. Not as distressed as we were on day one, but still not ready to deal with a true catastrophy.
I wonder if anyone else realizes this?
For now, it's all reactionary, dealing with the issues as they come up. Fires, empowered insects, cheating bottom-feeders. Just a matter of time before the other badguy boot of doom drops...and I'm hoping that's later rather than sooner.
In the meantime though, time to do some damage control.

Tipping his weight forward, he lept from his perch, enjoying the sensation of freefall, catching himself at the last second on a lampost and traversing the remainder of the block in that fashion.

Sweeping into the hospital lobby, his lower jaw once again concealed by his self imposed mask, he said "I am here to see the Neo-Sapien known as Nurse Jen. Please inform her of my arrival."

[harmonictempest]

Oblivion

Though a bit non-plussed at the term Neo-Sapien, which she does not recognize, the desk nurse indeed buzzes for Jen, who appears almost before the button sounds. Chipper as ever, she looks you over (very) quickly before asking It’s…Oblivion, right? Well, glad to see you here. I assume you heard what I told Nosferatu and are here to help? Just go ahead and follow me; I’ll fill you in on the way. She leads the way back to the wing they’re using for ‘those affected by the explosion’, or ‘the affected’, as the polite term seems to be around the hospital. We’ve been able to do very little except react; super speed doesn’t work on paperwork and bureaucracies, unfortunately, so they’re still trying to work out more permanent options. I mean more permanent care facilities, of course: there’s only so much you can do for a patient who exudes corrosive acid from every pore if you don’t have a bed that he can’t melt through. So far, Mr. Forthwind’s generous donation has been covering costs quite adequately, but we’ve been burning through it at a rate that can’t last much more than a few weeks. So, the problem cases. Like I said, we’ve little time to do anything more than react, and while they publicize the free testing, the doctors still can’t analyze what power someone is likely to have just from DNA or blood samples. We can test powers in mundane ways quite well – testing reflexes, quantifying strength, etc. But some patients don’t have powers that are easy to classify, and some certainly have more powers than they’re aware of. The real problems are the poltergeists – patients with unclassified powers that cause incidents, and may not even be aware of what they’re doing. After a few staff got injured investigating those, they’ve left them to me, but super speed can’t solve everything.

But listen to me babble – surely you had some idea before you came what your skills were and what you might be able to help with. Aside from your…ehm, unusual appearance, how had you planned on helping out?


Pulse/Reaper

Going through the crawl space, you detect no immediate conversation or electronic blocking, but then, with the meeting an hour away, that’s not particularly surprising to you. Your electromagnetic senses don’t work as well in this duct-and-wire-filled space, but your hearing remains excellent, and you do eventually detect people moving around below.

Based on the blueprint, this back area seems mainly to be a series of what were originally storage rooms. They all open onto a main hallway which leads to a loading dock, though the hallway itself makes several turns, and some of the rooms open directly into each other, so while there is a centralized layout, there’s more than one way to get most places in this back area. The other end of the hallway ends in a smaller storage room that’s right behind the main bar area (aka the least likely place for some drunk kid to “accidentally” be able to get into the booze storage room). Again, no telling how good the blueprints are 15 years later; 1337 seemed surprised that he couldn't find better ones. The people you hear moving around are in the main hallway; after a little waiting and listening, you determine that they’re mostly walking up and down the main hall, occasionally stepping into side rooms.

You rolled really well on your Listen check, and you’re somewhat aware IC that there is enough stuff in your way that you’ll need to get closer to hear anything useful once actual conversation starts. Also, the crawl space is not completely consistent and does not go above every room. Also, Pulse’s high Int allows him to “overlay” what he knows of the blueprints and figure out about which room he’s over pretty accurately, but Reaper might have a little more (like the rest of us) translating what he heard about the layout of rooms into an internal map.


Tasha

The officer turns back toward you, and speaks in a softer tone. Ma’am, it’s not my business to believe you or not, just take down your story and write the report. What you’ve told me makes sense and is corroborated by witnesses. And, off the record, yeah, I think you should drop it. Those cuts and bruises will heal up in a day or two, but if the media gets dragged into your life they could ruin it for a long time, and I've seen what that does to people; it's nasty.

You haven't told him whether or not you wanted to press charges yet, correct? PM sent.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

No, I haven't said yet if I'm pressing charges... intentionally. It should keep him around long enough for me to sift through his brain a bit.

You really think so...? She'll say, defeated, It feels like... like SOMEBODY has to say something... or he can just keep getting away with it. But... you're right. My mother is going to be mad enough about the hospital bill... and the ambulence... And oh god! If she finds out I was trying to meet a mutant, she's going to kill me!

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper has been silent for the past few minutes. Now, however, he petals Pulse, <Any ideas on which room the meeting will be in? I've been trying to think of a way to tell, but I don't have any ideas. I'll try using my sadow sense to figure out which rooms are lit and which aren't, but I'm not sure how much that'll help. I can probably count the shadows in a lit room, but I couldn't tell a chair from a person. Wait! If the meeting room's already lit, then I can check for the shadows of a table and chairs. They aren't going to have a meeting standing. It's a long shot, but it can't hurt to try.> He extends his shadow sense as far as he can, searching rooms for anything that might be a table or chairs.


It hinges on the meeting room already being lit, but that's a distinct possibility, and with a bit of concentration, the Reaper should be able to find the shadows of the meeting room furniture, or at least shadows the approximate size of a table and chairs.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse makes his best guess as to which room will probably be used for the meeting.

Let's try this one.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"I think a mix is our best bet. You take the air, I'll stake out the ground. You're a lot less noticeable when you fly than I am. I'm like a flying lightbulb filament, there's no way I could sneak up on anyone that way. So let's have a best guess at a target...maybe the other jewelry store a few blocks over that hasn't been hit yet. I'll camp out on the roof across the street and you do some fly-by's once it gets dark. That way if you see anything going on at another location you can petal me." Kid Zeus pitched to Nosferatu. It was the best plan he could think of. He was still pretty new at this and really didn't have a better option at this point.

[harmonictempest]

Tasha

Officer Williams comes up to the bed and pats you lightly on the shoulder (John has left by this point, btw). It’s all right, ma’am – we don’t call parents unless you’re under 18, so if she finds out why you ran into that guy…well, it won’t be our fault. Now, I do need to know whether you plan to press charges, because I need to get back to the station; it looks like things are pretty settled down here.

Sense Motive-ish information: Yeah, he’s deliberately not responding to your first question, since he feels like you’ve asked variants on the same thing a few times now, and that he’s already answered the best he can. So he’s just moving on, thank you ma’am and if you’re all done we’ll be in touch, etc. Also, just in case you leave the hospital in your next post, be aware that Oblivion just arrived, and there’s an okay chance you might run into each other. If you want to, you can just say it happens, and if you don’t want it to…I’ll probably roll a small percentage die to see if it happens (if only because the possibilities of the Tasha-Draven-Jack triangle are just too funny at this point).


Pulse/Reaper

Pulse: You roll…a 1 on your first Int check. Ooooops. :P You made the DC on your fifth try…I’m afraid the d20 wasn’t kind to you.
Reaper: Creativity is usually rewarded, and given that you did quite well on the ad hoc rolls I assigned to the task, I think that’ll work fine. To clarify in case of future (ab)use, you’re pretty much getting an idea of how many shadows there are, which would fit you, and piecing that knowledge together pretty competently.
Pulse decides first to check the room closest to the main dance floor, thinking that starting at one end and working towards another will be the most thorough way. Four rooms and five minutes later, they’ve found nothing, when finally Pulse has a bit of an insight. If they’re at all worried about security at these meetings, especially knowing that there are mutates these days, they’ll probably choose a room with few entrance points, no matter the size. Since almost all the rooms the crawl space goes over have a ceiling grate, that probably rules them out. Consulting your memory of the blueprint, looking around, and remembering where you’ve been, that leaves three rooms in this back area. One is just to the side of the storage room behind the bar, and across the hall from it. One is one of the larger rooms, in between two rooms you’ve already passed and determined that they hold nothing but lots of what are likely crates or storage containers. The third is a few doors down from the entrance at the loading dock. All have three entrances; one to the hallway and two more to rooms on either side. (Any of this info that you can’t remember, 1337 fills you in on, since it’s kinda a lot) You can’t get close enough to any of them for Reaper to sense the shadows, since the crawl space doesn’t go over them.
((Yeah, the back area's quickly becoming like a rabbit warren. I envision it somewhat like the back area that Brad Pitt and tech guy sneak into in Ocean's Eleven.))


Kid Zeus/Nos

That plan sounds pretty fine to me. Sketch it out in a smidge more detail for me in the OoC thread, including where you two will be, and your patrol pattern, if any. You’ll need to reference the post I made earlier with the details on the establishments (though I think it was little more than their names, I’d like to make sure we’re on the same page). Once evisiron is on board, we’ll get rolling.

[The_Snark]

Judy

It is not until she's at home that Judy investigates the wallet, feeling a little shaky. Picking pockets had never really been her thing, but more importantly, she'd done something blatantly illegal in a public place.

She really couldn't keep doing that. She knew she planned to return the wallet, of course; the whole point had been to get the guy's address (and an excuse to drop by at the same time). That wouldn't have been very convincing if she'd been caught. She had a record... she'd have been taken in... they probably would have found out about what had happened to her, too. Judy had no idea what the policy regarding mutant criminals were, but she was pretty sure they wouldn't be anywhere near as lenient as they'd been with the madman who gave himself up and TV. The whole business with the Reaper had been a publicity stunt; she was surprised nobody had tried to sue the mayor over taking on the role of judge, jury, and pardoner. Popular as he was, not everybody liked him in office.

And this is why it was never my thing, she thinks as she glances over the cash. High risk, low rewards.

Well, at least she had something to do tonight. It was convenient to have more time to keep her place clean and do the chores, but it wasn't much fun. In fact, she learns when she checks her messages, she had two things to do tonight. She sends a quick reply—Sure—back to Nerros.

She waits until about five, close enough to evening that he'd probably be home, and sets out for the address given. Once again, she's walking; she has more time than she knows what to do with, and not nearly enough money. It is a relief to be out of the house, even though staying at home with herself wasn't giving her the almost nauseating sensations it had at first. It was starting to feel surprisingly normal, in fact, which bothered her whenever she realized it was happening.

Better to be in three places, looking out from six eyes at three different parts of the world. Still made her feel dizzy if she thought about it too much, but other than that... normal.

It's closer to six by the time Judy finds the address listed on the driver's license, and knocks on Harry Crawford's door.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

That'll do, officer. Tasha thought to herself.

He didn't seem to know much of what she needed... but he knew someone who did. That was good enough for her. Withdrawing from the officer's mind, she resisted the urge to smile. It was getting much easier to sift through people's thoughts to find the gems of info she wanted to know. Perhaps this man was just a bit more... organized in though that most, but it suited her the same either way.

Thank you. She said in feigned relief. My mom would never understand. I... I know I messed up. It was a mistake I'm not going to do again. Ever. I guess... I won't press... anything. It would be really hard to prove, and... I don't want to get dragged into all that.

She paused a second, as if she was thinking. Probably best if he kept thinking of her as scatterbrained and foolish. She couldn't count the number of times she'd gotten away with something by playing the part of the poor, scatterbrained girl who didn't know any better. What worked on her professors seemed to work for the police as well.

Oh! I should probably get back to my dorms... I've got a test coming up I need to study for! My professor held class the day after the mutant bombing... he's not going to care if I got hurt. He'll fail me!

Tasha got out of her little bed, hastily grabbing her things as she prepared to head out. She thanked the officer one last time as she headed out... Now at least... she knew who she had to find to get the info she needed.

I'm entirely fine with running into Oblivion. It HAS been a while since I've seen my boy. Not that I can really explain things at the moment without looking REALLY suspicious. Still... I like having excuses to use my +16 in bluff! :smallbiggrin:

[Wiz]

Pulse

After informing Reaper of his thoughts via petalphone, he glides out of the crawlspace, back on to the roof. He will relock the padlock on the entrance and reboard his glider... taking to the air straight up, to avoid anyone in the building spotting him. Then he will drift toward the back of the building, seeing if he can figure out where the three rooms are, if there is back alley access to any of them (or at least vents leading back there, because a room with no vents makes no sense).

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

Falling immediately into step with Jen and nodding understandingly as she related the woes of being an Empowered hospital worker, he stiffened a bit as she asked the seemingly innocuous question of how he planned on helping.


Judy
Though a bit non-plussed at the term Neo-Sapien, which she does not recognize, the desk nurse indeed buzzes for Jen, who appears almost before the button sounds. Chipper as ever, she looks you over (very) quickly before asking It’s…Oblivion, right? Well, glad to see you here. I assume you heard what I told Nosferatu and are here to help? Just go ahead and follow me; I’ll fill you in on the way. She leads the way back to the wing they’re using for ‘those affected by the explosion’, or ‘the affected’, as the polite term seems to be around the hospital. We’ve been able to do very little except react; super speed doesn’t work on paperwork and bureaucracies, unfortunately, so they’re still trying to work out more permanent options. I mean more permanent care facilities, of course: there’s only so much you can do for a patient who exudes corrosive acid from every pore if you don’t have a bed that he can’t melt through. So far, Mr. Forthwind’s generous donation has been covering costs quite adequately, but we’ve been burning through it at a rate that can’t last much more than a few weeks. So, the problem cases. Like I said, we’ve little time to do anything more than react, and while they publicize the free testing, the doctors still can’t analyze what power someone is likely to have just from DNA or blood samples. We can test powers in mundane ways quite well – testing reflexes, quantifying strength, etc. But some patients don’t have powers that are easy to classify, and some certainly have more powers than they’re aware of. The real problems are the poltergeists – patients with unclassified powers that cause incidents, and may not even be aware of what they’re doing. After a few staff got injured investigating those, they’ve left them to me, but super speed can’t solve everything.

But listen to me babble – surely you had some idea before you came what your skills were and what you might be able to help with. Aside from your…ehm, unusual appearance, how had you planned on helping out?


That question again. It would seem that possessing NS abilities that aren't incredibly obvious produces the side effect of making everyone extremely curious about what exactly they are.
But I don't think she's trying to pry, just to get a handle on how best to utilize a new resource.
As she said, money and super-speed can only go so far.
Not that that helps me in the least with my present conundrum of privacy vs. incredible opportunity.

His thought process accelerated as he considered various possible responses and their potential outcomes, finally deciding upon one.

Looking over at the comely nurse he said "I find it interesting that you mentioned bureaucracies...
As I'm sure you recall, I am one of those who opposes registration. Without becoming overly verbose, I simply believe that it is the Governments job to do what they can to protect my right to privacy. The fact that I have been involved in a tragic chemical accident should only increase their vigilance in regard to that imperative.
It is my belief that you understand this. It is my sincere hope that we have an understanding."

Observing carefully the incredibly fast woman’s movements and reactions to what he was saying, he continued in an even and casual tone, "That being said, I believe that I may be the single most qualified Neo-Sapien, or, if you prefer, 'effected', to assist you in dealing with your particular situation.
I offer a painless, noninvasive solution to not only assisting your more difficult and dangerous patients, but also helping them discover and understand their full potential.
All I ask is that you give me your word as a health care professional and a woman of character that you will do everything in your power to protect my privacy to the best of your abilities."

"Do we have an agreement?" he said, stopping and extending his gloved hand to her while looking Jen squarely in the eyes as he did so.

Focused as he was on determining the degree of honest with which Jen was dealing with him, the police officer that emerged from the room down the hall and walked, with only a single suspicious glance in his direction, out into the lobby went barely noticed.
In the back of his mind though, the sound of the voice that emerged from the room in the officers wake, for some reason caught his ear.

BA is asking for a little more time to post her next action, so I'm taking my time hashing things out with Jen.

Although I don't see any reason why she wouldn't deal straight with Oblivion, he's is something of a cynical bastard. Not to mention that, in a city full of people capable of virtually anything, the old saying "you just can't be too careful" applies in spades.
Sense Motive roll, if it helps: [roll0]

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

God... this place is just full of mutants... Mutates? Whatever. Tasha thought to herself as she gathered her things.

Over the din of the hospital at it's busiest, she could have sworn she heard a voice she recognized. Not giving it much heed, she grabbed her purse and headed out into the hall, hoping they didn't give her much hassle in getting out of here.

She stepped out into the hall... and nearly right into Draven. Mere feet from him, she stood for a second, eyes wide. He was with some nurse that looked familiar from the mutant get-together. Draven was in full form, shadows and assorted black things concealing his face, but she knew better. Reacting to it... however...

Buh... um.... She stuttered for a second.

CRAP! Why is he here? Does he know I got hurt? She thought, mind racing, No, that's dumb. He'd have come without the get-up.

She focused for a second... trying to find Draven's familiar mind amidst the horde of voices and thoughts filling the hospital. THERE! Familiar blackness. For a boy who spoke as much as he liked to, he had a deceptively quiet mind.

Draven! I can't explain now, but you don't know me! She sent the thoughts into his head... her "voice" filling his mind panickedly. I could get in a lot of trouble!

Er... h-hi. She muttered, hoping her shock was mistaken for the usual reaction to his rather unsettling appearance. Who are... you?

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

(Every time I go to post, the forum or my internet decides to hiccup. *sigh*)

Alex smirks some at the choices and only takes a second or two to think. "Death, of course. If we are arguing a truly free market, then Taxes could not survive as they impeach on our freedom to keep what money we earn. If not, then Death still get ahead because people dodge Taxes and always pay less than they should, but nothing can keep the Reaper from collecting his due.

"That is, unless one of you guys has a key to the Fountain of Youth that you want to share with me." The smirk on his face grows wider. A little back and forth like this would do wonders to clear his mind from the whole villain thing he had been doing the last couple days. Just another clichéd corporate evil type...that's me. This time, though, it will be done right. I swear it.

Helping himself to some of the chips, he ***** his head to one side. "I know you said this is a friendly game, Ben, but what stakes are we playing tonight?"

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

Feeling her all too familiar form emerge from the doorway, even as his eyes were drawn in her direction, there could be no mistaking who it was, even as she, recognizing him, came up short and stood gaping and stuttering in fear.

Or, more likely, surprise extremely well disguised as fear. Something is definitely up if she's here by herself...and with fresh bandages on.
But if I give any indication that I know her, it could compromise...his thoughts were cut short as her thoughts intruded.

For a moment, the darkness of his psyche coalesced, a nearly unquantifiable defensive reaction, a reptilian sense of cold instinctual indignation. The sensation of a suddenly threatened serpent, coiling to strike.

The feeling, mutually experienced, passed swiftly, even as her thought’s filled his head.

A long silence followed, or seemed to be in the timeless expanse of the mind, but what, in reality, was only mere moments.

...I understand. he mentally replied, his emotions hissing in the background like a coiled serpent, the bitter undertone of irritation, accented with the sweet sense of concern.
He felt the all to familiar leviathan of distrust rise within the waters of his heart, eager to swallow any and all emotion which would leave him vulnerable to this cagey female, so well versed in deception, and only with titanic effort, was able to hold it in check.

He heard her mumble a question at him, her expression perfectly poised in an expertly crafted mask of mingled fear and curiosity.
For a moment, he suspected he detected the faintest hint of desire there, but decided that it must be a purely mental perception, derived from the psychic connection.

I will do my best, although I can think of no way to keep you without arousing suspicion. I hope you'll understand.
No matter what happens, we must speak tonight.

Abruptly dropping his end of the connection, he focused his mental faculties on reacting and speaking to her as if for the first time.

Just a nosy stranger who happened to cross paths with me in a hospital ER's hallway. Thankfully, not too far off the true mark.

"I am simply a humble hospital volunteer. You may call me Oblivion," he replied, inclining himself in her direction in a minimal bow.
"The winsome Nurse Jen was just about to go over the finer points of tonight's agenda."

Looking at her bandages as if noticing them for the first time he added, "As you seem to have already discovered, Rainport can be a...hazardous place at times. Before it gets too dark, I suggest you acquire an escort to your vehicle Ms...." he trailed off, realizing, even as he insinuated as much, that he had never actually heard her last name spoken aloud.

Once again, the leviathan of his distrust thrashed in the grip of his mighty will, his hold on it slipping ever so slightly.

What the hell is she up to? If she is so concerned about maintaining her anonymity, why hasn't she already walked away?

[harmonictempest]

Judy

A few moments after your knock, the door opens to reveal a middle-aged woman in a business suit, holding an apple in one hand. Hello? She says questioningly.
We can speed through this conversation a bit, if you’d like. Your opening statement or two will probably turn up that this is Harry’s wife, and he’s not home right now.


Tasha/Oblivion

Jen purses her lips slightly, clearly a little nonplussed at your defensive reaction, though not offended. Okay okay, I’m not prying. I had assumed you might be a little more open, as you are out in public volunteering to help. Well, there’s less specific stuff I can give you to do without knowing your exact capabilities, but we can just run through cases at hand and see which-- At this point Tasha nearly bumps into Oblivion, and Jen cuts off while you two interact, though giving a pointed glance to Tasha.
Tasha: She clearly has seen your case file, and is wondering why you’re blundering into conversation with another mutant so soon after your last altercation.


Pulse/Reaper

You already know where the three rooms are, given the blueprints. Those rooms do in fact have vents, but they are of the 6"x12" variety in the walls or floor, and not accessible from the crawl space (though the pipes for those vents run through the crawl space, they don't open into the crawl space, and are little bigger than the vents they open on to anyway). Aside from those vents, the only entrances that will fit a human are through the doors - there are no other openings, or grates you could sit on the other side of and listen (I promise this is not railroading - the meeting location has been rather smartly chosen, which fits with what Reaper's heard of D-train). What you could hear of the guards' footsteps seemed to suggest patterns in their movement, if only vague ones, though. Perhaps there would be a way to avoid them, especially for someone as smart as you.


Alex

Jack shoots back, in equally good spirits, but you have to concede that while Taxes could order an audit of Death, Death has no reciprocal power over an abstract government function! After the chuckles from that round subside, Brendan adds Well, we tend to keep to about a $5 ante, and betting always increments by $1 minimum. Aside from that…well, we play it by ear – when we’re in a good mood and it’s a paycheck week, the last couple rounds can be worth a few hundred or more, up over a thousand once. But it depends entirely on what everyone’s willing to bet. You brought cash, I hope?

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Well... oblivion IS a pretty spooky looking guy to just blunder into. I'm going for obfuscating stupidity. After all, I might be involved in "mutant related" incidents in the future. May as well set the ground work of appearing as "that dumb girl with no common sense who follows mutants around" rather than "that suspicious girl, who always seems to know what's going on". I can't be the only mutant-groupie in town. :smallamused:

He felt almost, angry. She thought to herself, quickly withdrawing from Draven's mind, I was really hoping for a bit more concern...

Oh! Um... h-hi. Oblivion... I'm Tasha. Tasha stuttered to herself, averting her eyes downwards as she shifted her weight nervously, Hi Miss... um... nurse Jen. The other nurse said I'm ok to leave... right? Do I have to fill out any... um... any paperwork, or something?

That's right, sweetie... I'm just some poor, dim, young girl who thinks mutants are cool. These aren't the droids you're looking for. She thought to herself. Gonna have to explain this to Draven later, I guess. Spy work is harder than I thought.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

"A government can die. Therefore, taxes die with it. Death wins. As well, if a government taxes her people to death..." Alex smiles wide. Mental exercises like this were one of his favorite things. It was like chess, in a way, where no answer was right or wrong yet you defended your position until you ran out of counterarguments. In short, it was merely a fun version of the Chewbacca Defense.

"I figured it would be a cash game, though I will need to break down some of my larger bills as the night wears on. I don't often carry cash and I intend to do it even less often after today..." Alex left the rest unspoken. He had no doubt that the rest of them had heard about the business on the train earlier today. It had become a major news story and had the local transit authority scrambling to put a positive spin on it. He imagined they would be spinning it as "We're safe because even the superheroes ride!" Deep inside, he smiled again. Anything to milk the public for a few more dollars.

[harmonictempest]

Tasha

Yes, you’re fine to go. Just…maybe steer clear of mutants for a bit, honey. They’re people, too, and while some of them are friendly, a lot just want to blend in, and not be followed by the curious.


Alex

At that point, the door opens, and your fifth enters. He’s not someone you recognize, though; a chubbier fellow with already-thinning hair and glasses in his thirties, who introduces himself as Bill. Well then, without further ado… Ben gestures to the table, everyone grabs their beverage and snack of choice, and the game is afoot.

Dealer rotates, dealer chooses game. Big blind is $2, little blind is $1. Do let me know:
a) your general strategy
b) what game(s) you choose when you’re dealer, and
c) what sort of conversation, if any, you choose to pursue during play.
Roll a Bluff, Sense Motive, and Gamble check, please. If you have no ranks in Gamble, just make a Wis check. Did you say you were wearing sunglasses still?


Kid Zeus/Nos/Dark/everyone else

*poke…?*

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Oh... um... o-ok. Thank you. Tasha muttered, I'm sorry I caused trouble. I just thought... I thought it would be cool to meet...

Tasha shifted a bit in faux-embarassment. She sighed, and pushed a lock of hair from her face, wringing her hands awkwardly for a second, like a child who'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

It was a bad idea. If my mom finds out, she's gonna kill me. She finally said, Please don't tell her if you talk to her, ok? It won't happen again.

Tasha nodded and cast one last, hesitant glance at Draven before she started off.

Goodnight! She called to the nurse as she went, I've got to get back to the dorms and study, before my boyfriend comes by. He's going to freak out. Thanks again!

Confident he'd get the message, Tasha hurried herself out of the hospital to the parking lot... Where it finally dawned on her that her car was sitting blocks away in front of the sushi place.

Well... @#$%

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

Bluff: [roll0]
Sense Motive: [roll1]
Gambling: [roll2]

Alex plans to start off playing very conservatively, gauging the playstyles of the others. Though he can't see if they don't show, he watches specifically for people bluffing and plays off them instead of the other, more conservative players. If no one is bluffing heavily and play is slow, he will play a little more agressively, but never commit to a large pot until very late in the game unless he's holding a straight or better. Each game as dealer will be straight Hold 'Em. Yes, the sunglasses stay on; I brought them for that reason. If you are giving me a bonus, tack it on.

With the game started and the first hand dealt, he lifts his cards. His face is impassive as he looks at Woolworth's: 5-10, offsuit. All right, play it slow... Kicking them in on his play, he tents his fingers and watches play proceed. Though this was a game for relaxing, the gears kept turning furiously. Such was how he had become wired. It was as much a test of the personalities of the other men as a game to him.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

Watching and appreciating in ways no unaffected human being ever could as his small but svelte lady friend disappeared down the hallway, he did his best to maintain a bemused expression.

What a position. Ignore the girlfriend and risk pissing her off. Blow off the really smart looking nurse and…

Crossing his arms, his expression became serious as he leaned towards Nurse Jen.
“It would seem that, whether we like it or not, I have my first assignment,” he said, inclining his head in the direction of the nearly departed young woman.
"Although I’m the last to encourage that kind of attention, it appears that at the very least, she could stand to have someone walk her to her vehicle."
Walking backwards with preternatural grace in pursuit of his female companion he spoke his final words with Jen calmly but decisively. “In the event that I’m not back in approximately fifteen minutes, message me the details on your primary problem patients and perhaps the best time for me to assist you with each. I apologize for any inconvenience in advance.”

Turning on his heel, he whirled nimbly around two startled nurses as they came around the corner, not missing a beat as he moved back through the hospitals double doors.

I can already guess what Jen is probably thinking at this point and I could really care less. I couldn’t live with myself if something else were to happen to her. Compared to the rest of us, she certain seems to have received the short end of the power stick, all things being considered…

Spotting his target on the curb looking rather nonplused, he closed the distance quickly but casually, saying as he approached “Excuse me Ms. Tasha? If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll be your escort for the evening. Where might your vehicle be parked?” Although he did his best to maintain a serious tone, his expression was one of thinly veiled amusement.

Let's hope the decisions get easier from here on in.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Holy crap! You scared me! Tasha said, whirling about at the sudden voice behind her. He sounded so different when he looked like that.

Still playing the game of "I don't know you". Good. Someone might be watching. She thought, Did he KNOW my car wasn't here? I guess he could have.

Um... yeah... My car is still out where I got hurt, I think. She told him, It's... alright. I'll catch a cab. I can just call my boyfriend and tell him not to worry about coming over for a few hours. I think he's busy working now anyway.

She sighed, glad to know that at the very least, Draven was worried about her. She could hardly blame him. Clever boy that he was, she figured he'd take the hint to come by later. She didn't want to interrupt whatever he was doing here at the hospital. Volunteer work, maybe?

Thank you for worrying about me, but... I'll be ok. I don't think the nurse wants me talking to any more mutants... No offense. She told him, giving him the pass he needed to head back inside, It was nice to meet you though... Mr.... um... Oblivion.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

Raising an eyebrow in response to the girl that continued to surprise and impress him, his head tilted to the side as he looked down at her, he didn't hesitate to respond.

"Nonsense", he said, as he scooped her into his arms, lifting her off the ground as if she barely existed.

Leaping onto the nearest building, he looked down at her and smiled faintly, his face momentarily exposed by the unfamiliar emotion.
Catching himself, he quickly restablished his disguise, trusting that, with his back to the street, his identity was still secure.

Playfully he said, "So where to exactly? It shouldn't take more than a few minutes and Oblivion transit is much safer than the alternative. Maybe, I'll even give you a autograph when we get there...
In the mean time," he said, his voice becoming slightly, but distinctly, more serious, "perhaps we can discuss what happened to you this afternoon...and how best to put it to rights."

He waited for her directions, then headed into the city, moving effortlessly across the rooftops on an indirect rout in the direction of her vehicle.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Despite knowing it was coming, Tasha still gave a light squeal of surprise as Draven scooped her up. She clung to him in genuine shock and more than a little fear, as he leaped the distance to a rooftop from the street in one long jump. Heights had never been her friend.

Ahhhh! @#$%! Warn me before you do that! She yelled, holding to him tightly, I'm not used to flying around.

She looked down for only a moment before she tightened her grip on him and put her head against his chest.

I seriously.... don't like... heights... She muttered softly, trying to calm herself, Ok... ok... um... My car is a few blocks over, near a sushi place, a hot dog stand... and a deli. I think it's... that way.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivon

Able to divine the secret thoughts and fears from the most disciplined of minds, but very nearly petrified of heights herself. How ironic...

"My apologies Natasha, I truly didn't know." he said, repressing a smile as he balanced effortlessly on the narrow ledge of a building, the cool night wind blowing through their hair.
For the briefest of moments he wondered how much like the cover of a gothic romance novel the moment might resemble, if not for his demoniac features and her look of barely contained terror.

"I promise I'll take it slow until you get use to it," he said with the slightest hint of slyness in his voice.

"I'd imagine you'd be more comfortable talking once we're back on the ground. That's all right, I can wait."


* * *

Percieving the poorly lit Sushi resturant's parking lot from the vantage of the deli's roof, he made certain they would be alone for their conversation before leaping down to land by Natasha's lone vehicle.

"Thank you for using Oblivion transit. We look forward to you riding us again soon."

Placing her lightly on her feet and keeping his arm around her until he was certain she had found her balance he looked into her eyes, waiting patiently for her to tell him what could possibly have happened to leave her in the shape she was in.

Although he had long since calmed down from the unusual and stressful situation he had found himself in at the hospital, witnessing for the first time the injuries this complex but vulnerable woman he called his girlfriend had sustained, he could feel his heart-rate had still not returned to normal.
Despite all the banter and the sincere pleasure he enjoyed at seeing her once again, he felt an equally sincere rage simmering just below the surface.

I knew this would happen eventually...I just didn't think it would be so soon.
I can't imagine how she could even think that I would have let her out of my sight before he was certain any threat to her had passed.
Of course, it complicates my evening, my life even, but considering how much more bearable, pleasant even, she's made this entire insane experience, I'm glad for the trouble.
I suspect though, that someone, or maybe something, is really going to regret my "trouble".

"So..." he began in a mockingly causal tone "How was your day?"

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Tasha stood unsteadily for a moment, glad to be back on solid ground. A quick glance around showed that there weren't many people about... but all the same, she preferred not to be seen loitering too much around him. The sudden realization that she had to keep a "secret identity" as it were, was an irony that she would probably laugh about on the ride home.

That was so very... very corny. She told him with a half-smile. I really shouldn't stay too much to talk. Apparently, I shouldn't be around you... mutant guys.

She almost laughed at the notion, letting her mind drift off to his. Communicating without words was safer, even if it was beginning to give her a headache. Well.... more of a headache.

It's a long story. I'm not even sure exactly what happened, but I don't think I should sit around talking to you for too long, or it might look suspicious. I'm... kind of paranoid. She projected into his mind, keeping herself out of the darker recesses, mostly for her own benefit, I'm ok. I promise. I'm going to head back to the dorms for the night. Come by whenever you get the chance, and I'll tell you the whole story, ok? And you can give me a neck rub. It's been killing me since I woke up.

Tasha smiled and offered a hand to Oblivion with a deceptively vacant smile.

Thank you for the lift, Mr... um... Oblivion. You're not as scary as you look. She spoke as cheerfully as she could with a raging headache, I'm going to get home now... My head hurts, and I'd like to lie down.

And just to brighten an otherwise mediocre day, she sent him a rapid-fire series of exceptionally X-rated images from their last night together and a few dirty jokes, just for laughs. If she got him to drop his bad-boy dark knight image for even a second... the whole day would be worth while.

Heh heh heh heh heh... :smallbiggrin: Because, why not?

[harmonictempest]

Alex

The first few rounds are slow until the rhythm kicks in. Then, as in any activity that requires part, but not all of your brainpower, chatter picks up, but only idly, since serious conversation is hard to keep up and maintain focus on the game. They are skilled players, though, and the speed of conversation and gameplay they take would leave behind most unaccustomed players. You've clearly passed a sort of informal initiation when you don't hold up gameplay within the first ten hands. Smiles become wider, and the beer flows freely as the game progresses.

You quickly find that tonight is, in fact, *your* night. Whether it's a combination of your plans beginning to come to fruition, your newly acquired powers, or (perhaps most likely) simply being in an exceptional mood, all the gears upstairs are well-oiled and running smoothly. Your first few bluffs work nearly without exception, but then you slowly realize that you must have a subtle tell, as Ben stops falling for them, and Jack and Bill pick up on them every so often, too. Similarly, you're pretty easily able to read Jack and Brendan, but Bill and Ben are either holding a more conservative strategy, or are simply out-bluffing you (winner's cards are not shown at the end of the hand, so you can't tell for sure). You find that sticking to a smart betting strategy that relies more on card awareness and canny guesses of probability works better for you - like a well-planned corporate acquisition, piles of chips slowly begin migrating from your opponents to in front of you.

(Note: pretty much all of them seem to have followed the rather wise strategy of only bringing as much cash as they're comfortable losing, and not playing on credit.)
First Brendan's stake disappears, which seems to be common enough, as it doesn't faze him and he gets another beer, watching the game philosophically. Jack is next to drop out, leaving you, Ben, and Bill holding about 1/2, 1/3, and 1/6 of the cash, respectively. Despite a craftily played betting strategy that you really can't find fault in, the cards don't favor Bill, and he eventually drops out, leaving you and Ben with about 2/3 and 1/3 of the cash each (let's says about $600 in front of you, and half that for Ben, though either of you may still have a Benjamin or two hidden in your shoe).

It's Ben's turn to deal. Ante has risen to $30 per hand. He chooses Texas Hold 'Em, and lays out the cards.

Now, let's set this up as a pseudo-encounter:
As a canny enough person, especially after the explosion, your keen busines sense tells you that there are two main sources of gain in this situation. Winning the game gives you prestige and a bit of power, vital in the competitive pecking-order ambience that all-male interactions invariably have. Deftly maneuvering the conversation has its own rewards, especially if you're curious about this group or situation in any further way. Either path may have its own unpredictable rewards as well.

So, we'll back-summarize the conversation in chunks as you play out the last few rounds of the game. That make sense?

For conversation: You found that you were one of the most capable at the table in terms of keeping your head in the game while continuing to make conversation without missing a beat. This gives you decent leverage in guiding the conversation. What did you choose to talk about, and how?

How much did you drink? The group as a whole has had their fair share of alcohol, so drinking more may more easily include you in the conversation/their confidence, but it's definitely harder to focus on the game with a half-dozen beers sloshing around with the chips in your stomach.

For the game: Choose a specific strategy and roll it - Bluff, Sense Motive, or Gamble. You can change it every round or so (don't roll more than once, we'll be going through a round at a time or slower), but not just whenever you wish. Bluff lets you get away with more when you have less, which can potentially turn any hand into a winning one. Sense Motive gives you a better idea what he's got and how he's playing, which makes your own play safer (obviously, it's harder to lose when you know jut when to fold). Gamble lets you "play smarter", optimizing your game from hand to hand and giving you a better shot at getting good cards and beating the odds.

All of this is inter-related: the more you focus on the conversation, the less you'll be able to focus on the game. Drinking may affect both. Bringing up a certain topic may have either a good or bad effect on the game. Pulling off a good play may give you an opening to ask a more revealing question. Overall, it's easier to focus on one than on both, but you can do whatever you want.

Also, ask questions - I'm making up rules for this on the fly for what I think sounds like a fun mini-challenge, but I'm not the one playing it.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

A profitable night, but this is where things get tricky. Though I hold the advantage, it is going to be more difficult to maintain this maintain the direction.

Alex twitches his nose some before looking at the cards. "Ben, something's been bothering me all night. Considering the little...well, odd way we met tonight, it seems odd that you would warm up and invite me to poker night. Not that I'm complaining." As he finishes speaking, he looks at the cards he had been dealt...

I need to know what cards I've been dealt before I'm going to be able to decide what I'm going to do (after all, I'm not necessarily going to go straight bluff on pocket aces.) Unless you're giving me the option of choosing my own cards....

Alex would have had no more than four drinks over the course of the night. Though he is not a beer drinker as a rule, I would assume businessmen would keep something better than Miller in the fridge and that becomes more palatable. The first one would have been fairly quick to show he's "one of the guys" and the others would have been nursed. There is a fresh one at the table now.

Conversation will continue to be kept on the lighter side (no shop talk) but Alex will be looking for their impressions about recent events and if they plan on doing anything differently because of it. If they bring up shop talk, Alex will push a little to see if their companies are doing anything different.

Anything else that comes up...well, we'll deal with it then.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse apprises Reaper of the situation via petalphone. "As you move through shadows, are you substantial... could you get through the vents via shadow portal?"

[harmonictempest]

Ben shrugs mildly as he eyes his hole cards. Nothin' too weird about it. How do you say-- I like the cut of your jib. I came over to make conversation 'cause we got off on the wrong foot, and enjoyed the discussion. When you mentioned playing your cards right, it reminded me of the game tonight, and I thought it'd be fun to have you meet the guys. S'all. He looks at you, waiting for you to bet.

You know Hold 'Em, right? Your hole cards are the King and ten of Spades, and we're in the pre-flop betting round. Ante was $30, minimum bet/bet increment is $20. You have about $570 in front of you and he has about $270, but both of you probably have "emergency" cash in an inner pocket for dramatic moments. Pot is $60.

If you want to speed up betting in each round, for instance, from now until the flop, you can just give me your initial bet, general strategy, and ceiling at which you'll stop betting. Now is also the time to choose strategy (Bluff, SM/Gamble), and roll/RP it.

Four drinks and about to start your fifth puts you behind, but not too badly. Nursing your drink made it less obvious; the others are on between their 6th and 8th drink, and seem to be holding it reasonably well, though definitely showing it by this point.

Conversation:
Impressions: Ben was being pretty up front in the bar, and you've heard most of his opinion by now. He seems interested, not too scared, and hopeful, and definitely interested to talk about it.
Jack (the one who works for the law firm Mythos and Barns) is alternately annoyed and happy with the whole situation. Happy, because a law firm is likely to get a lot more business out of such unplundered territory. Annoyed, because he thinks the world will get more complicated in unpleasant ways, and things were fine until this happened.
Brendan thinks the whole thing is a hoot as long as it doesn't affect him and makes for interesting Saturday morning news.
Bill, who you might guess from one or two of his comments is in insurance, is taking a wait-and-see attitude, though he admits it's making life more interesting for now.

When Brendan mentions something about going in a little later tomorrow, you find a discreet opening to turn the conversation to a little basic shop talk, mostly on the subject of how this changes things. Brendan says "If mutants manage to find some way to change production of soda cans, I'll be surprised", and has little else to say. Jack and Bill (law and insurance) shrug and admit their businesses are scrambling to figure out how this will change the market and how to be ready to stay competitive, and Ben laughs and says that with a contracting firm, it'll be up to the government to decide if they do things differently (since presumably nothing will change until Boeing-Martin gets new contracts when their old ones expire), before tossing the question back to you.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper responds to Pulse's query, <While I am not physically present, the shadow I am in must be able to contain my body, both size and shape. So I can't squeeze through, unfortunately. Perhaps your magnetic powers would be of assistance. If you could cause a short in the lights in the hallway, I could move in undetected and get under the furniture inside. I set the equipment, petal you, and come out the same way. They won't even think twice about it except to complain about the faulty wiring. What do you think?>

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse considers this and petals back, "How do you recommend we get you to the hallway inside though. Back to the ceiling trapdoor to get you close?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper responds, <Sounds like a plan. I should easily be able to jump in from there. In, out, done. What could possibly go wrong?>

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse follows the plan, returning to the roof, going through the trapdoor, getting Reaper as close to the back as possible. <Do you want me to black out the whole building? One corridor might be suspicious, then again the whole building might alert someone of a paranoid nature who otherwise might not know very soon.>

[OldSchoolGamer7]

(Tried to post this a couple days ago, couldn't get it up due to new comic, didn't have the flash drive I saved it to, and busy weekend has conspired to make this late.)

Alex

Though his eyes betray nothing, Alex weighs his options carefully before kicking $20 into the pot and smiling like the cat that just go the canary. Let's see if I can unnerve him a little. Make him second guess himself. King-10 suited is strong, but not terribly strong. "Care to dance a little? My card is open for the rest of the night." Just a little banter back and forth for now. "Let it never be said I'm not grateful for little things in life. I've enjoyed myself here tonight immensely. It has been too long...since college, really...since I had a guys night in."

That's not straight Hold 'Em rules with the ante, but it does simplify things quite a bit. Alex's playstyle will mirror my own: he'll often pay to see the flop if either his cards are decent unless the pot grows to appx. 1/10th of his current holdings before the flop. Alex will be more conservatively minded, relying on his glibness more often than not (to both make himself seem stronger or weaker, depending on what he's holding...after all, it's my bigger modifier) to do the dirty work, but he will also be looking for tells from Ben (if there's something that you make mention of that trips me off to something funny rolling around, once per hand, I would like the ability to roll a Sense Motive.)

This Round: Bluff: [roll0]

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper thinks for a moment, then answers, <Black out a decent size portion of the back area, but only what you can get with one short. That won't seem as suspicious to the electrically savvy. Leave the main club area unaffected, though; no need to cause a panic.>

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion


Natasha Verraine
That was so very... very corny. She told him with a half-smile. I really shouldn't stay too much to talk. Apparently, I shouldn't be around you... mutant guys.

She almost laughed at the notion, letting her mind drift off to his. Communicating without words was safer, even if it was beginning to give her a headache. Well.... more of a headache.

It's a long story. I'm not even sure exactly what happened, but I don't think I should sit around talking to you for too long, or it might look suspicious. I'm... kind of paranoid. She projected into his mind, keeping herself out of the darker recesses, mostly for her own benefit, I'm ok. I promise. I'm going to head back to the dorms for the night. Come by whenever you get the chance, and I'll tell you the whole story, ok? And you can give me a neck rub. It's been killing me since I woke up.

Tasha smiled and offered a hand to Oblivion with a deceptively vacant smile.

Thank you for the lift, Mr... um... Oblivion. You're not as scary as you look. She spoke as cheerfully as she could with a raging headache, I'm going to get home now... My head hurts, and I'd like to lie down.

And just to brighten an otherwise mediocre day, she sent him a rapid-fire series of exceptionally X-rated images from their last night together and a few dirty jokes, just for laughs. If she got him to drop his bad-boy dark knight image for even a second... the whole day would be worth while.

Heh heh heh heh heh... :smallbiggrin: Because, why not?

"All part of the superhero job description I'm afraid miss. Try not to hold it against me." he replied in response to her sardonic reception to his attempt at lighthearted banter.

As her mind moved into his, the reception was much warmer, although the swirling mixture of emotion, all contained in a building maelstrom of suspense made for an interesting environment.

I am very glad to know you're alright. Needless to say, I'm really looking forward to hearing the full story. Until then...I'll try not to speculate too much.
I just hope all this waiting is the exception to the rule. When it comes to concerns of these sorts at least...

Bowing ever so slightly at her exquisitely executed vacuous goodbye charade, he was caught off guard by the sudden images and thoughts as they flooded his mind, causing him to stumble a little, before turning to look at her with a quick glance of amused irritation.

Taking a second to compose his thoughts as well as his leathers, he sent a few choice thoughts of his own, some original and some not. Soon enough my dear, soon enough. Not sure if it's possible to improve on perfection, but we'll definitely try.

Leaping onto the rooftops on a direct rout back to the hospital, he smiled secretly to himself.

Girl does do a good job of keeping me on my toes. Not sure what I'm more excited about now: Testing myself against Nurse Jen's patents, or visit and tell all afterward...and I still need to call Jack!


* * *

"Nurse Jen please?" he said to the front desk nurse without unnecessary introduction. It was fairly safe to assume that, for him, once was more than enough.
He headed for the hall without breaking stride.

[harmonictempest]

Alex

Ben’s face doesn’t change, despite the oddity of your minimum bet paired with rather aggressive banter, and he says only Then let’s dance, with a small smirk. Perhaps your bluff succeeds in making him think you’re attempting to lure him into a large pot that he can’t win, because he raises only a token $30 before letting the betting round end with your call. As you go back and forth for the few moments it takes to bet, you realize that you truly are in your element tonight. Perhaps the alcohol has loosened you up somewhat, but you find yourself with an almost preternatural awareness of the moment, words flowing off your tongue like silvered honey, yet still able to notice each sniff, each twitch, every possible tell, the way his friends shift their weight when they see him make a joke or crack. The room is yours to command.

Except you realize now that Ben’s as good as you are. While your bluff may have succeeded, even the best of your perceptive powers don’t seem to be able to pierce his iron poker face. No, not iron, for then a small change or twitch would be easy to notice. You realize that his entire easy demeanor is, like yours a perfect veil for his true thoughts and intentions in this game. You feel the pulse rising in your breast as you settle in for what you now know will be a truly excellent matchup.

The pot now stands at $160.

The flop is Jack of Spades, Jack of Clubs, and 9 of diamonds. As Ben flips over the last card, he looks at you expectantly while settling back into his chair. They’re playin’ our song, Juliet.

I’m gonna level with you – there’s a very simple reason for the uber-dramatic flavor text. I like to give my players a little somethin’ extra when they roll a 20, and you did in fact roll a 20 on the Sense Motive roll I decided to give you against…whatever it is he’s doing (everyone’s always lying in poker, so it doesn’t hurt much to tell you that). Then he went and rolled a 20 on his opposed Bluff check…and beat you by the tiniest of hairs. Ergo, dramatic fluff text. Enjoy.

Again, you bet first. Please let me know your initial bet, strategy, ceiling, and if you’re going to keep using Bluff. The Sense Motive was something I decided to do for you, so don’t assume you get it every round – this choice is more of an overall strategy, as opposed to a specific check against something specific.


Oblivion

The nurse nods expectantly, clearly used to almost every bit of weirdness that comes through the door these days being for Nurse Jen. Again, she shows up before the buzzer even finishes ringing. Ah, there you are. I trust you didn’t get our little flibertigibbett in trouble with mutants again, she says with a small smile. She’s had enough trouble for today, I think. Apparently she went to talk to some mutant she saw in the park and he attacked her – very odd. Anyway, before we got interrupted, I was about to show you a few of our problem patients. You’re not offering many details aside from what sounds like modified therapy, so I’ll leave the choice to you: would you prefer mysterious, dangerous, or just plain bizarre?The obvious cheeky answer here is “all three!”, which is also fine, but in any case, I’ll need a day or to solidify the details on the patients I already have, so bear with me/


Jack

You time warped, which leaves your fate in the meantime…nebulous. I’m going to use my DM ability to collapse probability clouds into discrete events to say that you’re…at home!, perhaps eating dinner, if that’s all right with you.About four hours after you leave the park, your doorbell rings. If you pick it up, a brisk female officer on the doorstep says Jack Pretto? Assuming you don’t deny it, she goes on to ask Mind if I come in? We’ve got a few questions for you. The “we” here appears to be in the reflexive, authoritative sense, since there is no one else on the doorstep.
To speed up conversation: She does want to come in, and will ask again if don’t let her when she first asks. If you ask what she wants, she’ll reply that she’s here to clarify some details about an incident in the Empire Mall park earlier today.

[MountainKing]

Jack

"Good evening, officer," Jack said, his voice immediately ringing with a mixture of concern and curiosity. It was the kind of thing somebody who had no idea what was going on could be found ringing in their voice... and Jack, who'd immediately returned home for a few drinks and some relaxing music and reading, had already put the afternoon far out of mind.

"Ah, certainly, certainly, please come in," Jack took a step back and opened the door to its fullest; he was a grown man, enjoying a few drinks at home. Surely he had nothing to worry about. He calmly shut the door as the officer stepped into the suite, and he gestured to one of the chairs in the nearby living area. As the officer seated herself, he returned to his own chair near the open sliding glass door that lead out to the balcony. Jack had been smoking, and picked up his still lit cigarette, "May I ask what's concerning you?"

"Could you describe for me, in detail, what your business was at the Empire Mall park this afternoon, as well as give a description of the events that transpired while you were there?" Jack paused mid-inhale, smoke drifting out of his mouth as he looked the officer in the eye, keeping his hands calmly on the arms of his chair.

"Well, of course I can... I took a taxi downtown this afternoon to purchase a new pair of sunglasses, and followed that with a brisk walk to the park for lunch. I encountered a charming young lady on the sidewalk outside the sushi restaurant, and we talked for a bit. Had lunch together. One of the mutants from the news... Inferno, I think... arrived outside and tried to get some food from a hotdog vendor just as my new acquaintance and I were finishing our meal. After paying, we parted ways, and I saw some girl harassing Inferno, and that is Inferno, right? The one who's completely on fire and all?" Jack waited for confirmation a moment before continuing.

"Anyway, she was giving him a hard time for sitting on a park bench. Something about burning down the whole block, and I thought, "Now, that's really not very understanding... it isn't his fault," and so I decided to inform the girl of such a fact. She turned on me and started in on some ridiculous story that I was a mutant, but mind you officer I knew better," Jack smiled mirthlessly, "You see, she made a rather amateur stalker mistake: she uttered my name to my face, and that's when I knew for certain that I had in fact seen her moments ago in the sushi restaurant. She'd bought I think a forty dollar meal, and had barely even touched it! She left in an awful hurry too... but she started threatening me with all these radical stories, and finally I got tired of it." Jack paused a moment, letting the officer catch up.

"I warned her that if she continued to spread such ridiculous lies, that I'd simply have to pursue legal action for things like defamation of character. I mean, honestly, I'm becoming a big name in the world of professional gambling! I can't have this nonsense running rampant on my reputation!" Jack tapped his cigarette over an ash tray before inhaling another lungful of smoke, "The next few moments were a blur... I heard a shout from above us, I flinched, and heard this horrible sound, like far, far too much glass breaking all at once... and then I looked back again, and the girl who'd been stalking me was laying on the ground, covered in broken glass. I didn't know what to do... I just couldn't make sense of it at all... so I came home after almost an hour riding in a taxi, lost in thought. You can call the company and have them pull up their records for today if you like, they'll tell you... I was going to call the station in the morning once my head had cleared, but... here we are."

Jack will be taking 10 on... oh, wait. He'll be taking 10 on nothing, because there is no Bluff check necessary for the truth (as Jack has no idea at all that he has Prob. Manip.).

However, should the GM decide that an opposed Bluff check is necessary, Jack will abide by the d20 roll in the OOC thread. Should for some reason it be necessary to beat Tasha's 20 by... well, 20, the action point that has been rolled herein can go to that, and the PP will still be spent.

The roll to determine how much PP will be involved is here: [roll0]
Should the above action point become necessary to spend, and then become able to be spent, Jack unwittingly expends 8 PP to make his d6 roll a full 6.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

This guy's good. This guy's very good. There's something not right here, but I can't place what. Is this a trap or am I just getting paranoid? All I've got is a gut-shot straight draw...does he have Jacks? Jack-9? Why would he raise on Jack-9 unless he saw it coming? Is it 9s? Let's slow things down slightly. After a brief moment to the outside world, his knuckles rap the table firmly. If I don't get something here, I'm going to have to cut my losses on this hand.

Wait, though...if you lose, what have you really lost? Two hundred dollars? If you hadn't been prepared to lose it, why'd we show up? Could we gain something more than respect by being gracious? Appearance is everything in life. "Friends" are more valuable than respectful minions...any cheesy hero story will tell you that. His face becomes slightly less serious, a warm glow rising in his cheeks. Though it could be a tell, it is not intended to be. The force that opposes his drive, a Zen-like state, has risen up and...well, the rest of the game should be a bit more fun.

Alex'll check and react to Ben's bet this round. My mind is working furiously, thanks to that post, trying to figure out if you just gave Ben 4 Jacks or a Full House. Gut-shot straight seems quite weak against that flop. I'll keep the bluff up for now.

I don't mind you not giving me Sense Motive every round, but they do make for great dramatic moments, eh?:smallamused:

Bluff: [roll0]

[harmonictempest]

Jack

The police officer nods throughout, seated on the chair you offered her and taking short notes at various points. When you finish, she says All right, Mr. Pretto, give me just a moment, after which she flips through a chunk of paperwork on her clipboard that seems to be the various paperwork associated with the incident. After half a minute she finishes, composing herself and the papers for a moment before looking up.
Mr. Pretto, I think you should understand first that this is not a formal investigation. No charges have been filed, and you don’t even have to keep talking to me if you don’t want to. At this point, we have a mutant incident, since Inferno was there even if neither of you are mutants, and a rather public one. So all we’re trying to do here is get everyone’s story straight. Flipping through the paperwork, she begins ticking off points.
Several people confirmed the part with the hot dog vendor and the park bench, and several people recalled seeing you both talking to Inferno. Both of your stories corroborate that it was a chance meeting. We don’t have any mention of her being in the sushi place, but I doubt anyone would have noticed that, as it was before the incident. She asserted that she was mostly interested in meeting mutants, and while such puppydog behavior as you describe may be annoying, it’s not illegal, not in public, anyway. So far, everything adds up.
As far as what you said about her harassing you; by “ridiculous lies”, I presume you’re meaning her assertion that you had powers? Inferno also agrees that he saw you make a small explosion, and half the people watching the end of the incident swear they saw you mind control Inferno briefly. Inferno himself reports blacking out for a short period and winding up on the other side of the park, which is consistent with eyewitness reports. She looks at you briefly before moving on, and you realize that at least part of what motivates this visit is the police being aware of how much the public could freak out if they knew there was a mind reader/controller in the city.
Anyway, most of our eyewitness statements are from the end of the conversation, when things got louder. A few people remember hearing her ask loudly if you were threatening her, just before the window pane fell on her head. You then left the scene before the ambulance arrived.

Like I said, Mr. Pretto, this is not a formal investigation. Clearly it sounds farfetched to claim that you somehow had something to do with her unfortunate accident. But it did happen at a very opportune moment, and stranger things have happened these past few days, so we’re all adjusting as best we can. There is also, of course, the claims of both fire powers and mind control powers of some kind.

She looks at you expectantly. Just trying to get the whole story straight, Mr. Pretto.


Alex

You check, giving away as little as possible behind dark shades and a poker face of iron. Ben raises his eyebrows at your check, but otherwise makes no comment. Without looking at his cards, he pushes $25 in chips to the center; just over the minimum bet. The relative quiet of your game contrasts slightly with the enthusiastic conversation the other three are having as they half pay attention to the remaining few hands of poker.

Your reaction confused me at first after reviewing my last post and my cards a little bit, though, I must admit to a rather embarrassing mistake: I gave you the wrong flop. Now, ordinarily, I find it’s better to press on than retcon, but since the single card always makes all the difference in a card game, I’m going to in this case.

The flop I told you: Jack of Clubs, Jack of Spades, and 9 of diamonds
The REAL flop: 8 of diamonds, Jack of Spades, and 9 of diamonds

I think the best way to deal with it would be to just go straight on from here with the new flop without worrying about the minor inconsistencies it puts in your last few posts.

So you just checked, and he raised, but barely more than the minimum raise.

[MountainKing]

Jack

Jack exhaled another breath of smoke toward the open sliding glass door.

"I both understand and admire what you're doing officer," Jack said calmly, "But simply put, I've got a reputation. One that is just past the budding stage; it's beginning to bloom. I can't go making a name for myself if people start telling everyone I'm a mutant. I'm not. I'm a professional gambler with a bachelors in behavioral psychology. I can't *mind control* anybody! You average person on the street wouldn't know the difference between a cold read and psychic mumbo jumbo in the first place!" Jack held the cigarette in his lips and folded his hands.

"Mob hysteria is a really, just a fascinating thing, officer. This whole city's wrapped in in it now... it's like a great big time bomb of energy and emotion just... waiting to go," Jack looked the officer in the eyes as he spoke the next part, "And that is why you're here, isn't it? A crowd of people gets nerved up watching a man who's completely covered in fire in public, then they witness an argument, one which I admit, was not my finest example of people skills ever, and they get wound a little tighter. Then something out of the ordinary happens... something weird, crazy, or just plain tragic... and it sets the mind on edge," Jack stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray.

"Making bits of fire? Mind control? If I may say so, on a personal level, I think you're checking in on the wrong person," Jack spread his hands wide, an open, even vulnerable gesture. The ball was in the officer's court.

Alright, rolls, should they be necessary, are to follow.
Diplomacy (if you think I need to roll to sound reasonable): [roll0]
Bluff (to hide the fact that Jack actually didn't say anything about causing a small burst of flame): [roll1]
Sense Motive (I'd like one of those cold reads, if I may): [roll2]

[harmonictempest]

Jack

The police officer scribbles a bit more, but pauses to smile at you briefly first. I agree, Mr. Pretto. But the vultures behind the desks at the station do insist on having the paperwork filled out. I think that should cover everything, though. Let me just run what I have down for your statement by you quickly.

You met the girl by chance because you both decided to talk to Inferno. She had been stalking you at least since lunch, and accused you of being a mutant. You became angry, since libel would have a large negative effect on your life at this point, and raised your voice. Just after you threatened legal action if she wouldn't leave you alone, the window pane fell on her, which was a coincidence, but one you had nothing to do with. You left the scene at that point, and deny accusations that you have mutant powers.

Does that sound about right?

((She seemed prepared to wrap this up if you don't want to modify your statement extensively.))
Skill check results.
Diplomacy: She's clearly willing to agree with/believe you, but does have a job to do.
Bluff: You feel confident that you have successfully snowed under the question of firepower (heh) - she mentioned mutant powers again only because they were already on her sheet when she went to do the summary.
Sense Motive, rolled in with the Wis check I made for you: She's willing to buy your stuff about mobs getting hysterical (which is really a kind of ludicrous theory, since in no way was that a mob, and they weren't really that wound up, but...34 Bluff check. :P). However, she does have some reservations. Though you can guess her recommendation will likely say you're telling the truth, there is the fact that Inferno, someone you realize
a) has been almost certainly working with the police
b) is therefore pretty trusted by them
c) is easy to peg as not a genius, who would make a pretty bad liar
d) was the only person on the scene who *definitely* could have made a small fireburst
is a witness saying that someone made fire and it wasn't him, and that someone made with the mind control on him. She doesn't really know how that reconciles with that fact that you seem to be innocent.

Summary: You are a charming young man, and she believes you and is kinda on your side, but there are some Just Plain Weird facts about that altercation that neither you or Tasha could explain away with any amount of Bluffing. However, it's also likely that this will be filed with all the other Weird Shít that has happened this week, and forgotten.

[harmonictempest]

"I think a mix is our best bet. You take the air, I'll stake out the ground. You're a lot less noticeable when you fly than I am. I'm like a flying lightbulb filament, there's no way I could sneak up on anyone that way. So let's have a best guess at a target...maybe the other jewelry store a few blocks over that hasn't been hit yet. I'll camp out on the roof across the street and you do some fly-by's once it gets dark. That way if you see anything going on at another location you can petal me." Kid Zeus pitched to Nosferatu. It was the best plan he could think of. He was still pretty new at this and really didn't have a better option at this point.

Nos grins a toothy, toothy grin. I'm all over it. I am a creature of the night, after all. You want to stakeout more than one place, or just make a best guess? It already seems kinda hopeful that this guy is going to pull another heist tonight, but maybe he'll get cocky - or she.

((Let me just review the plan you set out, and we can move on. I'll NPC Nos for the time being.))

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

That DOES change my reaction quite a bit; open-ended is much easier to make than gut-shot. So, I'm looking for a Queen or a 7 now...interesting...

Bluff: [roll0] to keep up a facade that my holdings are weak and this is a bluff to force him out (a double bluff?)

Alex sucks air through his teeth, feigning weakness. As he fondles his chips some (the decision's already been made in his mind,) he speaks methodically. "You know, I find it interesting that businessmen play poker in their spare time. After all, we gamble on a daily basis." Or, at least, I do with my stocks. "I would imagine the game of choice would involve beating the everloving hell out of each other to vent after a long day. Still, this game has it's charms..." Alex raises the pot by another $25, flashing a warm smile. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"Yeah, circle around a bit while you're in the air. You can be a lot more mobile and cover a bigger area without sacrificing anything if something should happen where I am. Again, if one of us sees anything, we'll just keep these handy." Kid Zeus confirmed, holding up the strange petal he'd been given by an equally strange girl. "I'm going to head over there now and make sure I know the lay of the land. I think I'll walk. Sure, I'm probably the only guy on the street in costume, but no need to be that much more obvious by flying to the roof in case our criminal happens to be doing a little pre-crime surveillance of his own. Best to keep the 'look at me!' factor as low as possible for now." he grinned. "I'll petal you at twilight. Until then we should stay out of sight."

Assuming there were no objections, Kid Zeus headed off to do just as he said he would: explore the area a tad to make sure he knew the immediate surroundings, then climb up onto the store's roof to wait for dark. He lived around there, so it wouldn't take him long to get his bearings. He'd just have to find some way to entertain himself while he waited for the sun to set.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse gets himself to an area above a corridor near the back and then prepares to black out the lights so Reaper can move through the shadows. He reaches out to overload the lighting system in this area and trip the breakers.

Disable Device: [roll0]

[MountainKing]

Jack

Jack nodded slowly as the officer recounted the report, tapping his chin for a moment as she finished.

"My original intention wasn't actually to talk to Inferno; I approached the two of them out of sympathy for him, because the girl was browbeating him about how he was going to supposedly set the whole block on fire by sitting on a park bench. Really, really insensitive, if you ask me. I really felt bad for the guy; it can't be easy to have that kind of change come over your life all of a sudden... I mean, just wake up one day and your entire body is completely engulfed in flames?" Jack shakes his head, "Really, that's got to be rough. He didn't deserve to be harassed like that." Jack took a sip of his drink and sighed, then suddenly looked distraught.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? Can I get you anything before you go, officer? I know you're on duty, but maybe a glass of water? Pomegranate juice?"

[harmonictempest]

Alex

Ben’s smile remains unchanged as you raise him, but you could swear you see the tiny smirk of a player who thinks he’s winning handily. Despite the ever-shrinking pile of chips in front of him, he casually pushes a good-sized chunk of them into the center of the table as he answers your question. Ah, but this makes its own good kind of sense. Presumably, you do what you love all day – if that involves gambling on business choices or with client assets, then it’s pretty high-stakes, since your salary, prestige, or job could be on the line if you pull a real doozie and f*ck up. After doin’ that in a stressful environment all day, makes perfect sense we enjoy doing the same thing that we love in the evening, with only a day’s salary or so on the line. There now, let’s see how much you really want to see the turn. Quickly eying the chips in the center, you see that he’s tossed in another 60, effectively raising you 35.

Pardon the French, he's had a little bit to drink.

Pot stands at $295, and will stand at $330 if you call. Remember that you started with roughly $600, and he started with roughly $300, so he’s approximately halfway through his available chips right now.


Kid Zeus

((Grr, the map I made won’t upload. I’ll get a response up for you as soon as I can get the map up.))


Pulse/Reaper

It’s not difficult to find a relatively exposed area of the electrical system above the main corridor near the rear entrance, nor to trip the breakers. You hear the distinctive tinkle of broken glass as the power flares, tripping the breakers – one of the bulbs close to you must have exploded, but overall you think you’ve done exactly what you set out to do. You hear a muffled curse below, but can’t make out specific words. Depending on where the fuse box is, and which of the employees or gang members know where it is, you could have somewhere between a comfortable few minutes to a narrow few dozen seconds.


Jack

The officer makes a few additional notes, then closes the folder with an air of finality before looking up to smile. You know, that might be nice. I’ve never tried pomegranate juice before, though. She gets up from her seat, when suddenly her radio begins spouting. “Khzht-- 11-80 at corner of Hamblin and Surrey, Code 8, 11-99. It looks like—“. The officer has thumbed her radio by this point, hurriedly replying “10-49, ETA ninety seconds.” Already nearly running for the door, she turns her head, Thank you for your time, Mr. Pretto – gotta run, this is urgent.


This ends the scene.

If you decide to become interested in the police incident:Surrey and Amblin is about two blocks away. Does Jack have any reason to know police codes?

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper wastes no time in making the shadow jump, transporting himself and his arsenal of electronic bugs into the corridor below. He moves along the wall and into the room, emerging beneath the table in the room. He sets up one of the larger recorders, then petals Pulse, <I set one of the recorders. Should I stay down here, or get out immediately? I've got shadows to hide under here, but I'm too far to jump without the hallways blacked out, and popping the lights again will look suspicious. So get out now, or stay to plant trackers and personal bugs? Either way, decide now.>


It's a full round to jump, another to get under the table and demeld, and however long it takes to set up the recorder, probably no more than a round or two. Thirty seconds so far, maybe?

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

You encounter no difficulty in moving through the corridor and into the meeting room, where you find a large table surrounded by chairs, with more chairs along the walls. None of it looks particularly luxurious.

As you slipped down the hall, you passed two guys going the other way. While it was difficult to make out details while shadow melded, you noticed one of them was one his phone, and seemed to be getting directions.

You have to unmeld to set up the recorder, but as there is no one in the meeting room (you suspect at least one of the guys you passed was just in here until the lights went out), this is not a problem. The recorder is now firmly affixed under the table, in a spot that isn't obvious at first glance to anyone looking under the table. There's really no way to effectively hide it from close inspection, though.
The larger recorder is the one with the onboard tape - the other one was the one that relayed a signal to a recorder elsewhere (on your person at the moment, I believe). Is the tape recorder the one you meant to use? The pros/cons, as described earlier, were that the recorder was mostly impervious to a bug scanner, since it doesn't use radio signals, while the relayer could give you feedback in real time, as well as not losing the whole tape if someone finds it.

Your intel on these guys doesn't give a good indication of whether or not they're likely to use scanners, so it's up to your gut and prior history with gangs.

[MountainKing]

Jack

Jack sets the bottle of pomegranate juice on the counter and nods.

"Oh no, officer, thank you for coming by. I feel a lot better having been able to talk about this afternoon," Jack gave the woman a small wave as she turned and hurried to the exit. Like a gentleman, he opened the door and closed it quietly, before re-depositing the juice in the fridge. Sighing, he walked back over to his chair and lit another cigarette, exhaling slowly as he glanced at his cell phone; it wouldn't be like Draven to forget, if Jack had read him rightly at the table.

Shrugging, Jack took another sip of his gin and stared out his suite's sliding glass doors. He definitely didn't want to be exposing himself further in public, and he sure as Hell wasn't going to go running around like kind of idiot trying to rescue people... so he'd just sit, and wait.

No, there really isn't any reason for Jack to know police code. If you'd like to tell me anyway, feel free to roll an Intelligence check for him to see if Jack would happen to know what was going on as trivia.

[OldSchoolGamer7]

Alex

"Indeed." Alex says nothing more for now, absently calling Ben's bet. Balls to the wall time, old man. It's just money, after all. Normally, he wouldn't take such an unknown risk. However, a combination of lowered inhibitions from the drink and a bit of bravado and machismo. Win or lose, you're going to impress them.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse is thoughtful, <Best you stay... I'll hang here for now.>

OOC: Recorder is just a recorder, not a sender... so if they sweep for bugs, the'll pick up nothing. Reaper can grab the recorder after the meeting - since he won't hear everything while melded with shadows, it will fill in anything he misses.

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

http://x34.xanga.com/504f154273d31241450881/m191154023.jpg
Legend:
A: Direction of Hadyn Scott's domicile (5 blocks)
B: Direction of local public school (Hadyn goes here; 4 blocks)
C: Direction of city center
These are mentioned mainly because I already told you about them, and they're the landmarks you'd orient yourself by in this area of the city.
The two large dark areas are local parks.
The small black blocks (which were supposed to be numbered squares, but Photoshop wouldn't cooperate) are, from top to bottom:
1: Gloveton Local (a bank)
2: Game Hut (a video games/consoles and electronics store)
3: The jewelry shop you're currently in.
4: Wireless Jungle (Radio Shack meets a Verizon store)
5: Rings 'n' Things (another jewelry store, carries the same kind of inventory plus some higher-end stuff)
6: The bank that was robbed two nights ago

Notes: Huh, I don't think I ever gave the first jewelry store or bank a name. Feel free to do so yourself, if the urge strikes. Also, these are not the actual street names, they're just for reference. Let me know if you have any trouble telling which building is which.

All right, I’ll send out a search party if you go missing, Nos quips.
Your surveillance goes without incident.
((You basically find out what’s on the map – none of the adjacent businesses to any of these places seem to be out of the ordinary, you’re in a bit of a shopping district, but there are plenty of apartment buildings sprinkled throughout here as well, mostly in the low-medium price range.))

As you walk around the downtown area, you draw a number of stares, and one kid who saw you on the news with the spider pulls free of his mom to run up and ask you for an autograph, but otherwise people seem content to let you go about your business. Every so often, you see Nos go by overhead, though you haven’t seen him for the last half hour by the time twilight comes. As you reach for your petal to send him a message, his answer comes immediately in your ears…from right behind you. Turning around, you see him descending dramatically to land right next to you. Brandishing a pair of paper bags, he says Can’t have a stakeout without doughnuts – hope you like sprinkles. And uh, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to toss in a couple bucks, ‘cause I’m gonna go broke fast being the mutant catering service of choice.
You ready to do this?

((Just gimme the go sign and we’ll roll on into whatever happens tonight. You said you wanted Nos covering the bank, and you were going to hang out on the roof across the street from the next jewelry store?))


Oblivion

Before you can answer Nurse Jen’s last question, the beeper at her waist goes off, and hse checks it with a grimace. You know, you’d think that being able to do a day’s worth of work in about ten seconds would give me a little breathing room, but it just doesn’t ever seem to work out that way. I sent the head of the hospital a note asking what it would mean for my pay rate if I got paid by amount of work I got done instead of hourly – he told me he’d never gotten such a large headache in his life. With a wan smile, she speeds over to the nearest computer and, fingers moving too fast to see, enters a series of commands. There – I’m sorry to have to put you off until tomorrow, but I’m printing out the public portions of some of the relevant patient records for the meantime. They should already have my notes on them, and you can have a look overnight. Is there a good time for you tomorrow, perhaps in the morning? She nods at whatever time you respond with, and says See you then, before handing you an empty folder and disappearing. The nearby printer hums comfortably as it starts spitting out pages.

Coincidentally, your timeline is at the same point as Jack’s right. :P
Would you like to know what’s in the patient records she gave you now, or later, after your conversation with Jack?


Jack

Despite having watched a number of cop shows, the codes she received don’t ring any bells, though the accident is clearly nearby. Mmm, cop shows…maybe there’s something good on TV.

I imagine you’ll have a Draven calling you shortly. If not, I’ll find something else for you to do, or you can come up with something.


Alex

The round has by now drawn more attention from the other guys, who are heckling you both goodnaturedly. Hurry up and lose, man, it’s getting late, Brendan says, apparently not realizing the possible insult, and clearly conceding the fact that Ben wins these games more often than not. You hear Jack stage-whisper to Bill Wonder if we’ll see a checkbook bet this week. Even if you haven’t heard the term before, the uncapped betting possibilities of a checkbook are immediately obvious.

Ignoring the table talk, Ben burns a card before flipping the turn: the 9 of Spades, which he adds to the 8 of diamonds, Jack of Spades, and 9 of diamonds. He looks at you with studied indifference and gestures for you to open the betting.


Pulse/Reaper

Reaper preps the quick-release adhesive and attaches the recorder to the bottom of the table. After making sure there’s a tape inside and the battery has plenty of power, he turns it off again to conserve power. When the meeting starts, a quick pair of button presses should suffice to turn it on and start the recording. Fingering his pockets, he confirms that he also has a few of the trackers and personal bugs ready. After asking for instructions, he relaxes to wait for the meeting to begin. A dozen seconds after Pulse’s instructions, the lights flicker back on. Though not all the lights in the meeting room are turned on yet, he can tell he’ll have to stay very carefully under the center of the table when they are, both to avoid getting pulled out of shadow meld by the light and to avoid being kicked if he needs to unmeld for any reason.

Given that you arrived about an hour early, you probably have a half hour or so left to wait, which both of you can do relatively comfortably. A minute after the lights come back on, one of the thugs re-enters the meeting room, tossing a last gripe about “crappy old sh*tholes” to his buddy as he does so. He stays in the room for a minute, walking about casually, before heading back out into the hallway, where Reaper can several different pairs of footsteps going by at irregular intervals. Clearly, there is some sort of informal patrol keeping an eye on the back storerooms.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper petals Pulse, <Very well. Be ready to flick the lights in case this goes sour.> He then waits patiently for the big shots to arrive, then to turn on the recorder and hide within the quasi-real shadowspace he has come to know so well in the past couple of days. Had it really only been so long? It seemed more like years....

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

Hadyn took as many of the doughnuts as he possibly could, being famished from not staying at school long enough to have his lunch. He gave Nos the ten dollars he would have had for lunch money that day in payment, considering it an even trade since the bags were huge and filled to the brim with sugary goodness. With his metabolism the way it had been recently he was going to need to eat in order to keep his strength up. With all the hustle lately he'd almost forgotten about it. "Alright, you know the plan, but I'll reiterate. I'll try to keep an eye out from where I am across the street from that jewelry store, you just fly circles and try to keep quiet. Against the night sky no one should be able to spot you without some sort of nightvision. We'll petal each other the moment we see something suspicious. Good luck." he nodded to the vampiric hero and set about climbing to his lookout spot.

Good to go.

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

Just like every book or movie remembers to remind you, stakeouts are not repeat not glamorous. You settle down on the roof with a decent view of Rings ‘N’ Things, and with a little effort realize that you can make out the front door of Wireless Jungle if you walk to the other end of the roof. Both shops see low activity on this weekday evening, gradually decreasing until they close at about 8:30 p.m., their owners locking up before joining the sidewalk throng. Passersby stroll past the stores through the evening hours, and the occasional petal message to Nos gets a chipper reply – the vampiric teen had expected the dullness of a stakeout, but at least had the change of scenery from flying. He was beginning to find that after flying for more than an hour or two, it began to take more effort to stay aloft, so he began taking short breaks for a minute or two every hour on a roof near the other end of the small section of city you two are scoping out. Each hour passes with increasing slowness as pedestrian and vehicle traffic slowly dwindles in this commercial chunk of the district. Only the adult movie store, right next to Rings ‘N’ Things, continues to show a consistent couple of customers every hour, up to and past midnight. It’s both a welcome and disturbing distraction to wonder what genre each customer is there to peruse.

10 p.m. passes, then 11 p.m., then midnight, each going slower than the one before. Unbroken monotony fills the air, and you begin to wonder if you’ve barked up the wrong tree. Then, a few minutes past 1 a.m., you suddenly get an excited petal message from Nos.
<Hey KZ, I think something’s going on at the Game Hut. There’s a light on inside, but a little one, not like one of the store lights. I didn’t see anyone go in, but I just got here. Hurry!>

Pulse/Reaper

((Post coming later tonight, if I can manage it – it may get pushed to tomorrow, ‘cause it’s gonna be a looong one.))

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

Seeing no need to be completely stealthy if the burglar was already inside, Kid Zeus took to the air. He tried to keep the light show down to a minimum, but it was the fastest way to get from A to B and he wouldn't have to climb down any ladders. He petaled Nosferatu as soon as he was in the air. ["On my way! Don't let him escape!"]

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

<No worries, man - I don't think he's rushing too much.> It takes you about a minute and a half to cover the two city blocks between you and Nos - you have limited success in controlling the light show, but you realize it doesn't matter too badly when you spot the place Nos is spying from. He's on a roof across the street that has more than its fair share of pipes on the roof, and so is relatively blocked from view. You quickly see what he noticed - a small, bobbing light that looks about the right size to be a flashlight, a little farther back in the modestly sized store. It's too dark from here to make out any further details.
((Game Hut's store front is pretty standard for a city store, and looks about like this (http://www.howardbeach.com/Portals/1/Gallery/Album/4/RadioShack.jpg), though with the metal grating (which you can see on the left side of the picture) pulled firmly down and locked. The store is no larger than your average video store, probably about 30 x 40 feet on the inside.))

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"So, I'm guessing he didn't use the front door. Let's head around to the back. If it's not unlocked we can blow it open and go in after him before he gets away. There's also a chance we'll be owing this store manager some money when this is all over, but we can deal with that later." he grinned and took off flying high to avoid being seen through the windows before coming back down to earth on the opposite side of the building where the back door/loading dock would be.

Kid Zeus quietly tried the back door to make sure it was locked. If it was, he cleared the way for Nos to break it down. "After you." he whispered.

[The_Snark]

Judy

The conversation was short, and slightly awkward.

"Hi. I'm looking for, uh, Harry Crawford—is he home?"

"Not right now, no." There's a pause while Judy tries to think of where to go from this obvious yet unexpected setback, and the woman waits to hear her unspoken why are you here answered.

Hell. Should've waited longer... I'll have to try and reach him by phone. "Oh. He does live here, then?" A nod. "Is it all right if I leave this with you, then?" She fishes out the wallet.

At home, Judy picks up her phone and dials the working number of Harry Crawford, Ph.D, M.D., and a great many other things. She hadn't given the wallet back without copying down the business card, complete with acronyms; she could look those up.

"It's his wallet," she adds back at said person's door, handing it over in the slightly reluctant way that is perhaps inevitable when one gives a total stranger's wallet to a second total stranger. "I found it on the sidewalk downtown a little while ago, and since it had his address..."

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

So, I’ve figured out how Shadow Meld works. You know how the world looks to Frodo when he puts on the Ring? It’s like that – everything goes shady and smoky and indistinct, and all sounds seem to be muted by some persistent breeze that doesn’t really seem to have a source. So you can still see and hear everything, just not perfectly.

Also, through the magic of petaling, let’s just assume Pulse is more or less abreast of everything going on.

The map: Still in progress. The important thing for now is that the room is longer than it is wide. The doorway you came in is on one of the short sides, and opens onto the main hall. Two other doors, one on each of the long sides, open onto what you previously determined are likely to be other storerooms, which have their own connections into the hallway. Everyone who comes in comes through the hall doorway.

Lastly, the scenery. From your spot hunched up under the table, you can pretty much only see about to people’s knees at best, but it’s pretty easy to tell which voice goes with which legs if you pay attention to any one person for long enough.
Remembering that the tape has about two hours’ worth of recording capacity, Reaper plans to turn it on as soon as people start entering, so as to avoid risking unmelding at a later time. About fifteen minutes before the hour, a pair of thugs makes a general pass through the room, but it is clearly more to check for people than anything else – they don’t appear to expect much in the way of bombs or smaller devices, and their glance under the table is perfunctory at best, and sees neither the recorder nor the invisibly melded Reaper. People start trickling in one or two at a time, starting about five minutes before midnight, and the recorder gets turned on without a hitch. Conversation is difficult to make out exactly, but the general gist is easy to capture – some are griping about having to leave the dance floor (apparently there was a pretty kickin’ DJ tonight), some are wondering aloud what the meeting is for, but most are just shooting the breeze about whatever happened that day. A strong majority of them are black, and most of their vocabulary places them firmly near, but not at the bottom of the gene pool – most of these are clearly not quite the scum-sucking bottomfeeders of the gang, but more likely just one cut above – there’s under a dozen thugs, but that surely can’t be all of them. There is an odd awkwardness in the air, though – as if something is going unsaid, or something is making them slightly uncomfortable and they’re hiding it.

You know when D-Train (description is here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=3569209&postcount=326), Reaper heard it but I think Pulse hasn't) arrives by the way the room hushes up immediately, and it sounds like a few of the lieutenants are flanking him, more than one of which is a pretty big dude, judging by the footsteps. He reaches the end of the table nearest you, and turns, at which point all conversation stops entirely, and everyone sits down. When he speak, it is obvious, both from the fact that he’s the only one talking, and the surprising quality of his voice.
Ok, have you seen The Great Mouse Detective? You know how Ratigan is this calm, cool supervillain, and all his little mouse cohorts are basically “good ol’ blokes”, and there's this very clear-cut difference between them? Ratigan's not the head mouse who's the same as all the other criminals but a little better, he's *Ratigan*. That’s what we’ve got here – D-Train is very clearly a cut above your ordinary gangster. If he were 60 and Italian, he might tend toward Godfather-esque behavior. Instead, he’s young, black, big, and clearly knows exactly what he’s talking about, and has the undivided attention of the whole room.

Nice of you guys to show up. I know we try to stay away from big meetings like this, but sometimes you gotta suck it up and get everyone together. I got a couple good boys makin’ trouble in the east end that oughta have the police pretty occupied since…mm, about thirty minutes ago. That oughta give us some room to talk.

First off, the little business. We won’t be doing a progress report like normal; instead, you’ll get that through the grapevine. Next round of shipments is on schedule, and I sweet-talked our guys into not delaying just because they’re worried about the local situation. So you better keep your contacts hot and the customers interested – shouldn’t be hard when times are stressful like this. And yeah, that brings me to what we’re gonna talk about.

I don’t think anyone here is really confused by wondering what I wanna talk about, just what exactly I plan to say. I guess everyone watches the news. This gets a good chuckle out of the room. Okay, so now what? B-Money over here has a nose better than my mutt now – he asked me yesterday how the chili I had last week was – JP doesn’t need to breathe any more, and his brother’s still in the hospital, tryin’ to figure out how to walk with four legs. Fat lotta good that sh*t does us, right? Tiny got tinier (this gets a chuckle), but he's not really the quietest way to solve a problem. Meanwhile, we got wannabe cartoon stars messin’ wit us every day on da street – on da street we fuggin’ own! We got half a dozen errand boys in the ER just yesterday, and I hear some of you talkin’ like we’re done. Talkin’ like some pansy motherfuggers gonna run us out with some fancy lightning and toy gliders! His speech thickens as he warms up to his topic.

I built you suckers up from nothing! You was all dealin’ on streetcorners and runnin’ from cops with your tail between your legs when I started recruitin’! I got you organized, I got you motivated! Stupid coppers haven’t made a successful raid in years that did more than set us back a few days! Any you poor a**wipes are ready to give it up in three days, just like that? You need to watch more Saturday morning cartoons, insteada bein’ hung over. He quiets down and gets serious. Every superhero, wannabe or not, has got him a weak spot. Especially if they’re just a wannabe. You think just ‘cause some guy can shoot lightning that he’s immune to a bullet, or ‘cause he can leap tall buildings means you can’t hold him down long enough to punch him in the face? These guys aren’t any different from the coppers – they just got different guns. Figure out what base they haven’t covered, or take somethin' important away, and they go down just as easy as any other punk. Except they’re wearing spandex, so they go down like any other punk AND look ridiculous doin’ it. He gets applause and shouts of approval, but it is clearly the obligatory kind, rather than inspired.

All right, all right, I know you guys. Walk the walk, right? He gets a shout of approval. Well, just so you guys know I don’t just talk big, I’ll have you know that I did a little scouting of my own today, and picked up a little garbage off the street. Bring ‘im in, guys, he commands, and the door to the hallway opens again to much hooting and hollering, and several more thugs enter. There is a loud thump as they dump something heavy on the table directly above you. Glancing up, you see that the adhesive has held. Shushing the excited group with some effort, D-Train continues. All right, boys, keep you hands offa him. I watched this little rock star for a bit, and realized he needed an air guitar to play to pull off any of his tricks. Yeah, don’t mess with his hands – he’d make a mess for sure if he got ‘em free. But for now, well look at that – he just looks like any other scared teen punk, doesn’t he? This meets with a roar of approval – there is no sound from the table, though it rocks slightly as if whatever or whoever on top of it is struggling.

Now, he messed up a couple of our guys pretty good before we knocked him out, but it was worth it. I was gonna leave this guy for another day, until I found out where he’d been earlier. Daddy D called me up this mornin’ – he’d been running a dropoff on the far east side near the bypass, and said he’d seen three different wannabes flying the same direction outta the city within ten minutes. I tole him to drop the station and move out that way a bit, and once he got outside the city limits, he said from the way they was heading, they woulda had a beeline to the quarry if they kept going. Now, I ain’t dumb enough to mess with a whole Sunday school meetin’ of these guys, but when I heard Rocker Boy was there, I thought I’d invite him tonight to hang out with the guys. Crass chuckles echo around the room.

So, how about it, kid? You wanna tell me what all the wannabes had to talk about? There is the sharp sound of removed tape, followed by a gasping breath and a short pause. Then, quite clearly, you hear Riff’s voice. Go to hell, a**hole. There is a spitting sound that ends with a small bass *whumpf*, and D-Train's feet stagger back slightly – instantly, there is loud hubbub throughout the room. Hold it, hold it, D-Train shouts, don’t make it that easy for the kid. It’s just a bloody nose. As his feet move back toward the table, he says with increasing menace in his voice. Now, you’re gonna tell me everything you know, starting with where that flyboy monk you were with earlier is at, and maybe I’ll let you off with a warning. You don’t mess with the Suits, kid.

Okay, that's quite enough for one go. React if you want, or keep listening. Also, if you would've jumped in earlier than this, let me know where the cutoff point is, and we'll go from there.

Judy/Kid Zeus: Post coming soon.

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

The back door is very locked.

With a grin, Nos sizes up the door while pulling out his katana. You got a game plan, or you just wanna charge in and grab the guy? If he can walk through the front door, we may have trouble holding him.. After your response, he makes a quartet of quick slashes at the door, powerful blows that slice though the metal like cardboard. There, I took out the hinges. If we have to replace anything, they oughta be cheaper than the whole door. The back door sags open now, revealing a small back stock room. The katana blows were not nearly as loud as a gunshot, but it’s better than even odds they were still audible in the main store area.


Judy

The woman’s heretofore unfriendly face breaks into a broad smile at this news. Oh, that’s fantastic! I know Harry’d just be in a sweat if he lost this. I’m sorry he’s not here now, but he’s been working late at the hospital recently. I'll be sure to give it to him as soon as he gets home.

Meanwhile your call to the hospital, where Dr. Crawford is presumably working late…gets an answering machine. “Hi, you’ve reached the business line of Dr. Harry Crawford, genetic therapy specialist. Is your life, or the life of someone you know, limited because of chronic pain, birth defects, nervous system damage, or a genetic disorder? As a 2001 graduate of John Hopkins’ genetic engineering program, I help patients and families work past these kinds of difficulties and more. Genetic therapy offers the possibility of restoring your life to the quality you deserve. Leave a message or call anytime during normal business hours to schedule your sequencing and diagnosis appointment as soon as possible. We accept most insurance; rates vary depending on…” (it goes on to list mundane details you probably don’t care about for the rest of the message)

Setting your phone back down when you’re done (whether or not you leave a message), you notice on your sheet of copied information that you have a number marked “Mobile: for personal business or emergencies outside of business hours only”.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine


Tasha chuckled softly to herself as she watched Draven lose himself for a moment under the sudden barrage of "inappropriate" images. Even as a black-swarthed creature of night... he could still be cute.... if accidentally. She watched him recover and leap off with a smile.
"Hopefully that will be enough to let him know I'm ok." She thought to herself as she slipped into her car, and began the weary ride home.

The trip was busier than normal, or perhaps it only seemed that way because of the headache she had. So much crap going on.... So much to worry about. At least she'd gotten the name of the cop who knew what she needed to know. Tomorrow, she'd find out about the explosion, and finally have something to tell

----------------------

Finally arriving at the dorm, Tasha pushed open her door wearily, and slumped inside. Her roommate Heather sat up in her computer desk, startled... and quickly minimized some window as Tasha threw her bag down on her bed and sat down with a soft thump.

"Hey, you're final... Oh my god! What happened?" Heather said, interrupting herself at the sight of the bandages and dour expression of her roommate.

"Ugh... I got hit with a pane of glass."

"Holy crap, really? How?"

"Long story. I'm alright. I just have a really bad headache." Tasha muttered, lying back in her bed and closing her eyes.

"Wow. That sucks. I've got some advil in my purse, if you want some."
"Oh god yes! Thank you!"

Heather retrieved her purse and got a glass of water, handing Tasha the glass and bottle of advil... three of which she immediately downed.

"Thanks sweetie. Can you... leave the bottle?"

"Uh, sure. Just don't take too many." Heather said with a soft smile, "I was gonna go out with Linsey tonight, but I can stay here with you if you like. Unless you just want to get some rest..."

"It's alright Heather, Draven might be coming over later tonight. Go see your girlfriend." Tasha muttered without thinking. It wasn't until she noticed the look of red-faced horror on Heather's face that she realized what she'd said.

"I... uh... I d-don't.... That's funny. Girlfriend." She muttered awkwardly. All those good grades, and the girl was a terrible liar. "I-it's always... about sex with you."

"Crap! I can't believe I just said that! She's been hiding it for a reason!" Tasha thought to herself, very tempted to just pull a pillow over her head, let Heather go, and write the whole thing off later as a bad joke brought on by the head injury. Instead she gave a sigh, and forced herself to sit up.

"Heather... it's cool. I know."

"K-know what? There's nothing to..."

"Heather. You like girls, it's fine." Tasha told her softly. When she'd first found out a few days ago, the idea had shocked her a bit. But mostly because she'd lived with her for two semesters now and didn't know. With all the madness going on in the city recently, it hardly seemed like such a big deal though.

Heather replied by turning roughly the color of a fresh tomato, and folding her hands into her lap awkwardly, "I... but... y-you... How did you...?"

"Because you're my friend, and I know you. I kinda... guessed." She bluffed, it sounded much better than "because I read your mind the way I realized I had powers.", "It's ok Heather. I've known for a while. I haven't told anybody, I'm not going to... and it doesn't bother me. Don't worry, ok?"

Heather looked a few moments away from hyperventilating and passing out on the floor. Considering, she held together fairly well. "Y-yeah.... yeah.... um... ok. I should... I should really go."

Tempted though she was to look into her head and make sure she hadn't utterly destroyed her relationship with her roommate, it didn't feel right. That, and her headache didn't make the idea seem too tempting. Instead, she watched Heather gather up her purse and laptop, and mumble something about being back later before she headed out. Tasha slumped back down onto the bed as the door shut behind her and sighed.

"You'd really think the mind-reading thing would make life easier... not more complicated." she thought with a sigh. Soon enough, she expected to hear from Draven, and have to spend some time assuring him she was safe and alright. This mutant thing wasn't all it was cracked up to be...

Resting for a bit, and putting off schoolwork for the night. Unless something comes up, she's go no more plans til tomorrow, save maybe speaking to Draven, if he calls or comes by.

Ready to start up the next day when you are, HT!

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus/Nos



The back door is very locked.

With a grin, Nos sizes up the door while pulling out his katana. You got a game plan, or you just wanna charge in and grab the guy? If he can walk through the front door, we may have trouble holding him.. After your response, he makes a quartet of quick slashes at the door, powerful blows that slice though the metal like cardboard. There, I took out the hinges. If we have to replace anything, they oughta be cheaper than the whole door. The back door sags open now, revealing a small back stock room. The katana blows were not nearly as loud as a gunshot, but it’s better than even odds they were still audible in the main store area.

Kid Zeus smiled as his eyes began to glow blue and that power of his began to well up inside. He let it build up and fill the air around him now that he didn't have to worry about being quiet anymore. "Just leave that part to me." he said, his voice taking on an eerie reverberation. He floated off of his feet and shot in the door, electricity climbing up the walls around him as he entered the show room of the small store. He had a sudden notion that all this electro-magnetic discharge probably wasn't great for the DVDs and games around him, and inwardly cringed as he took in the scene before him. He really hoped they hadn't just caught the night guard or the store manager...

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper's blood burns and his eyes flare at the arrogance of this two-bit thug. And now he had Riff, an insider, a source that could reveal all the abilities of the supers at the meeting, and his own weakness. He doesn't want to compromise the mission, but he can't stand to let an innocent suffer, nor to let this mobster wannabe ruin Rainport's first good chance at justice and peace in decades. He petals Pulse, <They've got Riff. He needs our help.Kill the lights, hard, and I can save Riff and maybe bring in D-Train too. This bunch is pathetic; without him, they're through. Kill the lights.>

If Pulse does so:

The Reaper emerges from the shadows beneath the table and speaks, his voice leaden and terrible. "D-TRAIN," he says, his voice echoing from every direction. "YOUR SINS ARE MANY, YOUR CRIMES UNNUMBERED. FOR TOO LONG YOU HAVE GONE UNPUNISHED. NO LONGER. I HAVE BEEN TO HELL AND BACK, AND I COME TO TAKE YOU WITH ME." He rears up from beneath the table like the specter of Death himself, and with a swift motion cuts the bonds around Riff's hands. He turns to face D-Train, his eyes burning with red fire. "THE REAPER HAS COME TO COLLECT THE HARVEST."


Not sure what rolls, if any, would be required, but I assume I can do that much in a surprise round (5 ft. step, and a standard action to free Riff, I assume).



If Pulse doesn't, then I'll respond according to his post.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse would act on any message from the Reaper, with or without justifications attatched. As soon as he says kill the lights hard, Pulse reaches out and overloads the whole building's electrical system.

Blackout the building - Disable Device: [roll0]

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion



Oblivion

Before you can answer Nurse Jen’s last question, the beeper at her waist goes off, and hse checks it with a grimace. You know, you’d think that being able to do a day’s worth of work in about ten seconds would give me a little breathing room, but it just doesn’t ever seem to work out that way. I sent the head of the hospital a note asking what it would mean for my pay rate if I got paid by amount of work I got done instead of hourly – he told me he’d never gotten such a large headache in his life. With a wan smile, she speeds over to the nearest computer and, fingers moving too fast to see, enters a series of commands. There – I’m sorry to have to put you off until tomorrow, but I’m printing out the public portions of some of the relevant patient records for the meantime. They should already have my notes on them, and you can have a look overnight. Is there a good time for you tomorrow, perhaps in the morning? She nods at whatever time you respond with, and says See you then, before handing you an empty folder and disappearing. The nearby printer hums comfortably as it starts spitting out pages.

Coincidentally, your timeline is at the same point as Jack’s right. :P
Would you like to know what’s in the patient records she gave you now, or later, after your conversation with Jack?
Reply: See OOC thread please.



Smiling thinly beneath his psionically generated disguise, he nodded once before replying in an even tone.

"A disappointing turn of events, but entirely understandable. I'll contact you in the morning by petal to plan my next visit. My schedule continues to be, as you might have guessed, rather irregular.
In the mean time, do me the favor of checking up on Jason during your rounds. He is one that bears watching."

He glanced towards the copier as it began to print. "And good luck on that raise..." realizing, even as he spoke, that she was already gone, even before his physical eyes returned to the spot she had been standing less than a second before.
It seemed she was faster than the speed of speech. Impressive.

Not that suprising really. Introspective, analytical and private was bound to grate on extroverted, hyper-active and matronly rather rapidly. Surprised she even bothered with the print outs actually. Hmmm...

As she read over the paperwork, he absently extracted his cell from his suits pocket and hooked it to his ear.

I suppose this is my opportunity to make that call I promised to Jack. By my estimation, that rogue's three states of being are a constant flux between causing, getting out of, or being in, trouble.
Let's see which one of the three he happens to be entertaining right now.

Using voice activation, he whispered, "Jack" into the air as he glanced over the final sections of the printed material, folded carefully and stowed away in his only other pocket for later perusal.

Fortunately, trouble might be exactly what I'll be getting into tonight, so the arrangement should be both familiar and equitable for the both of us.

His hidden smile returned. The phone continued to ring.

[harmonictempest]

Reaper/Pulse

There is an agonizing pause of a few seconds before the lights go out. In the hubbub following the sudden darkness, the only people who immediately notice you stand up will be whichever two people you squeeze between to get out from under the table. As you begin speaking, shouts nearly obscure your words, and you have a moment to survey the room.
You see D-Train, caught in the moment of leaning over Riff threateningly, looking directly at your fiery red eyes with a strange excitement filling his. He fits the description you were given by Taekwon Dog, though your darkvision obviously can't reveal the color of his suit.
You see a dozen or so other thugs in the room, almost every one of which has a gun out, which must have been the hubbub you heard when Riff spat a small sonic burst at D-Train, giving him the bloody nose he's currently sporting.
You see Riff lying awkwardly on the table, staring at your eyes in shock. His hands are entirely swathed in duct tape behind his back, clearly by thugs who weren't sure if he could blast his way out of them. His ankles are also tied securely with a plastic cord.
You see that the three or four closest guys to D-Train seem to be the lieutenants he came in with, given that they're dressed a little more nicely. Two of them are typically bulky six-foot bruisers, wearing brass knuckles on the hand that's not holding a gun. A third is shorter, but only by comparison. Even so, his smaller than normal bulk seems to melt into insignificance next to the other lieutenants, especially the fourth one he's standing next to, who...can only be Tiny. He must be about eight feet tall, and looks like he outweighs a small pickup. He's wearing an enormous black cloak that does nothing to hide the fact that his upper arms are as big around as you - perhaps the cloak is just a stopgap measure until he can acquire a new wardrobe.

Okay, that's the situation. I'll let you change anything you want based on that, except the fact that you stood up, since that's what allowed you to see all this. They're already reacting to your speech action, so let's keep that, too.
There are plenty of chairs/people around the table, so the spot where you stand up is relatively crowded, and especially if your goal is to stay close enough to the table to free Riff, you're going to be bumping elbows with I think three other guys: one on either side of you, and D-Train, who is leaning over Riff.

Of the three doorways, the two side ones are behind you and across the table from you, respectively and the one to the hall is about twice as far away. The one behind you is relatively close, but there’s a guy or three in the way.

You can go ahead and take a surprise round action, since you’ve definitely got the drop on them with an entrance like that (I know you declared a surprise round standard action to try to free Riff; I'm basically pausing right before that happens, and giving you a chance to continue with that as you'd planned, or take a different action). Pulse can also begin acting in the surprise round, since presumably you knew Reaper was going to act as soon as the lights went out.

Hmm…I think I got everything relevant; ask questions if you need. I’m mostly just establishing the layout of the room before we go any further; when things happen, they’ll start happening fast, so it wouldn’t go amiss to start about what you want to do in the next three rounds.

[MountainKing]

Jack Pretto

Jack jolted to a start as his ringtone began to jangle in his ears. He'd dozed off while reading a copy of Atlas Shrugged, slightly intoxicated as he'd been. Blinking a few times, he picked up his phone, not even looking at the caller ID.

"You've reached Jack Pretto; what can I do you for?"

[The_Snark]

Judy

"Okay, great." Judy smiles in return. There are plenty of things more discomfiting than being alone with an unfriendly middle-aged housewife, but right now she would be hard pressed to think of one.

There's still just a bit of awkwardness as she turns to go. Goodbye's a little weird... Can't really say "you're welcome"; it'd sound like I was being bitchy because she didn't say thank you. She settles for, "Glad I could help," and heads back down to the sidewalk.

Elsewhere, Judy hangs up before she's asked to leave a message. Gene therapy, mm? That explains his interest. If the blind man was a client of his who can see or smell mutates, he'd have known. Why would he want a picture, though? She considers that for a few seconds, and comes up with a couple possibilities. The camera might be more than just a normal camera—something that could take some kind of reading that would help the doctor's studies. She doesn't buy that one; she may not be up to date on the latest medical technology, but she's pretty sure a camera that can record useful medical information is beyond it.

Which leaves the idea that he wants to try and find her. Hard to do with just a picture, but he's a doctor, he might have medical records. Or he might not have been thinking about that. Doctors don't usually have to deal with that. Either way, she felt, it was time to take the initiative. Again. Hopefully she'd manage not to do anything illegal this time.

"Hi, Dr. Crawford? I just wanted to let you know your wallet's been returned."

Assuming he answers, of course. If not, she's not going to bother leaving a message.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper


I'm going to stick to my same actions, though remember that anyone who touches the Reaper needs to make a DC20 Will save or become shaken. I can try to avoid skin-to-skin contact by making a DC15 Reflex save, which I'll use to try and avoid panicking Riff. [roll0]

[Wiz]

Pulse

If he can, Pulse will reach out with his magnetic telekinesis and bring his glider to him from the roof, opening the trap door and guiding it down to where he is. He's not too concerned about it making noise along the way, banging against small obstacles or severing faux-ceiling supports which is why he didn't bring it down initially. Once he is on his glider, he'll punch through the false ceiling and lower himself into the blackness of the corridor below, guiding himself along using his magnetic senses. He doesn't know the full gist of what's going on, but since Reaper called in the EMP, he figures the game is up and it's time to use force.

[harmonictempest]

Judy

The door closes and the message ends (no one picks up), both without further illumination of your quandry.


Kid Zeus/Nos

As you dash through the store room into the main floor of the store, you see a shadowy figure over in the video games section. You hear a faint swishing sound as you come closer, and get a good look at the figure. He or she is in a costume not unlike your own, except that it is all various shades of shadowy gray. The figure is idly playing a flashlight over the ranks of games on the shelf, and offers conversationally Evening, guys. I was wondering if you could help me out - I'm looking for an adventure shooter, but not along the lines of Fallout 4. Maybe something with a little bit lighter tone to it?


Reaper/Pulse

Reaper's razor-sharp claws slash through the wad of duct tape covering Riff's hands. Riff shudders at the touch of the cold claws, but sits up and beings peeling the rest of it off of his fingers - his hands are not stuck together anymore, but still each covered in a good amount of duct tape. The two thugs you stood up between shy instinctively away from you as you rise up from under the table - one successfully dodges you, but the other doesn't escape brushing by you, and you can feel him cringe. D-Train, on the other hand, has stood straight up and is considering you (or your eyes, which is all he can see) with interest and some small surprise, but no trace of fear. He speaks suddenly, and his voice cuts through the hubbub and sound of c*cking guns, quieting it partially. Well, I hadn't expected you - I thought that flyboy monk would be the first to show up. But here we are. So, what do you expect to do next?

A slow, almost imperceptible rumble begins in the background - source is impossible to locate, but no one seems to be paying it any heed, or even noticing it.

Pulse - Let's say you can arrive in another round or so - I'll cue you. Instead of punching through the ceiling, which might take you a while, you'll be happy to know that there's an access hatch not too far from where you are, which will dump you down into the main hallway a short distance from the door.

Reaper - Every person in the room, except for D-Train, Tiny, and the guy you just brushed, is pointing the gun that he already had out at either you or Riff. Or, trying to - about half of them are, while the other half were shaken up by your entrance and are still getting their act together. You realize now the source of the awkwardness you had noticed earlier when they came in - they were hiding something. Apparently, D-Train was expecting his capture of Riff to draw another super to here eventually - he just hadn't expected you. Both his stance and words indicate that he doesn't expect fighting to break out immediately, hoping the amount of firepower pointed at both of you will give you some pause.

Conditions - Even in the darkness, they know where Riff is on the table, and can more or less locate you by your glowing eyes. You both have full concealment...and about three guns pointed at each of you (with the number climbing to half a dozen each once the rest of them finish fumbling in another few seconds). It's pretty evident to your eyes that you're the only one in this room who can see in darkness - Riff is pulling duct tape vigorously and silently off of his hands with no apparent awareness of the guns pointed at both of you.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus


As you dash through the store room into the main floor of the store, you see a shadowy figure over in the video games section. You hear a faint swishing sound as you come closer, and get a good look at the figure. He or she is in a costume not unlike your own, except that it is all various shades of shadowy gray. The figure is idly playing a flashlight over the ranks of games on the shelf, and offers conversationally Evening, guys. I was wondering if you could help me out - I'm looking for an adventure shooter, but not along the lines of Fallout 4. Maybe something with a little bit lighter tone to it?

"How about 'Felon 2: Back to Jail'?" Hadyn replied with a smirk as his eyes crackled and sparked. He settled down to the ground about seven or eight feet away from the shadowy figure and pulled his gloves on tighter as he took the guy's measure. Was this person a mutate like them? Hadyn was almost certain he or she was, judging by the costume and the modus operandi. It was also strange that Hadyn couldn't quite get a good look at him or her. Even in the low light he should have been able to at least tell gender, especially after hearing the figure speak. "Now, I don't suppose you'll come quietly? It'd make things easier on us if we didn't have to wreck this poor guy's store beating the crap out of you." he asked, cracking his knuckles loudly in a not-so-subtle threat.

Initiative; to go first in case he tries anything: 1d20+5=20 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2055828/)

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper pauses, then grins (or the equivalent of someone with no facial features to speak of). "I expect you to find out you've got more than you bargained for, and I expect some of your men to die." He closes his vestigial eyelids, then whirls into motion, his unseen claws striking the men to either side with pinpoint accuracy. Despite his words, he does not strike to kill, but merely to incapacitate.


Total concealment should givve me Sneak Attack, if not, my Hide check should do it: [roll0]

Two attacks on the unshakened guy, and one on the shaken guy. Will saves for all.

[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]

[roll9]
[roll10]
[roll11]
[roll12]

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

The intruder turns to you, and though his face is fully obscured by the costume he wears, his indifference to your threat is easy to note. Nah, heard about that game and it didn’t sound like my type. I was thinking more along the lines of Grand Theft Auto: Rainport. Oh, this one’s cool! With the same swishing sound you heard when you were moving up to him, he reaches out and plucks another game off the shelf close to him, dropping it back into the small bag you now see him holding underneath the flashlight. Nos looks at the guy with his usual toothy grin. I guess you didn't hear us - you can give it up now, or you can add property damage to your list of crimes, from the violence we will be sadly forced to lay down on you.

Sorry, didn’t mean to make his gender indistinct. The costume made it unobvious until he spoke, but the voice, though echoing and strange, is definitively male.

He did something, but given that it wasn't threatening or combative, I don't think it brings your initiative roll into play.


Reaper/Pulse

Your claws strike with deadly skill, hitting each of your targets once, leaving them both shaken. It is clear that your opponents in this room are not the inexperienced underlings you’ve cut down on the street before – even the greenest of them has a few years of pain and violence under his belt, and will put up a consequently tougher fight.

D-Train sighs expressively as his men shoot back at you. While a few still struggle to c*ck their guns, most are able to get off a shot, though those you scared more have shaky aim at best. The darkness hides both of you, and provides extra protection to you from your affinity to it, but with the number of bullets in the air, some of them get lucky. One bullet strikes you solidly in the shoulder, while another grazes Riff’s. Riff, already bruised from his earlier encounter, stops worrying about getting his fingers free enough to “play” and rolls off the table, landing in a crouch next to one of the bigger lieutenants, who reacts to him brushing by, but does not seem certain of who it is, yet. Tiny doesn’t pull a gun, but begins shifting his bulk around along the wall; he doesn’t make it more than ten feet in this crowd for now, and he’s on the other side of the table from you. D-Train finishes his sigh, and says Reaper, huh? You been messin’ wit my errand boys, and now you show up here? You better leave, before you end up like Riff. He maintains his casual air.

The rumble in the background increases - it's now clearly coming from outside somewhere, and is enough that you can feel small vibrations coming through the floor. D-Train and several other thugs look around, clearly seeking the source of the sound.

The bullet that hits you does 8 damage. D-Train’s sigh wasn’t any longer than normal, that’s just how fast everything happened (normal speed for a combat round).

The mechanics of what all has happened so far, for clarity’s sake:
You stood up the surprise round, using a five-foot step, a speech action, and a standard action to free Riff’s hands. D-Train was the only one really prepared in any way for something to happen so fast, and so was the only one who took a real action, though all he did was speech (stuff about guns coming up or not was mostly flavor to show how much your entrance had or had not affected some of them).
You won initiative, so you acted again, making a full attack and a speech action. All of them took their turns: D-Train contented himself with another speech action, and his men all made various gun attacks, with penalties appropriate to darkness and fear (some normal, some shaken, some not firing more than once and some not firing at all). It’s now your turn again, and you’re benefiting from full concealment (50% miss chance) and 28 AC. Riff is also benefiting from full concealment, but obviously doesn’t have your shadow affinity. Both targets next to you appear shaken (err, frightened...or whatever other "scared" word doesn't carry specific mechanical connotations) and cut up, but neither are running, yet. Both took a 5-foot step away from you at the end of their turn - stepping up to either of them would put you in range of two or three thugs.

I count your PP expenditure so far as 12: 3 for that last shadow meld, 3 for touching someone on the way out from under the table, and 6 for the two attacks that hit.

Pulse – you fly up to the door, arriving with one standard action left. It is shut, but you will not find it locked and there is no one on this side of it. You're good to go.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Those in the darkened room are treated to two sounds: the sound of the door being ripped off it's hinges (though it's really the hinges that are ripping the door off - and pulling it aside), and a voice.

"Who keeps their fingers on the pulse of this city?" The voice continues, "You will all throw down your weapons. Anyone who does not dispose of their weapon now, or who gives an order to another to use their weapons against myself or these other heroes will be considered open for immediate reprisal. Your one chance to escape harm is to drop your guns and sit down quietly! Oh, and I can sense where every one of you are standing... just in case you weren't certain."

[The_Snark]

Judy

Foiled by the answering machine, Judy decides she'd better start making herself dinner; even if she ate downtown again, that left two of her to feed at home, and she'd be getting off work soon. Alex's money wasn't going to last her all that long—she'd have to start looking for a second job at this rate...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that same night, Judy meanders on down to the old warehouse Nerros had specified. Although she's a lot more confident than she was the first time—she wasn't following a drunken stranger, for some thing—she still slows down and checks to make sure nobody's watching as she heads towards the door. It's private property, after all, and she has the feeling Balchem would be unmerciful towards any trespassers it caught...

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

I'll just keep that initiative result for my action, then. Incoming.

Turning his head, Hadyn noticed something as he was listening, and in that moment between eyeblinks he decided on a course of action. With a quick lunge, KZ brought his hand forward, leaking a strobing trail of electricity after it, and attempted to touch the thief on his shoulder mid-sentence as he was jabbering about the games. He'd never done it before, but Hadyn had been practicing his control for some time now. With a little tuning, he could use the electric energy his body produced to overload the human nervous system, which was basically just a big string of electric pulses anyway, and render his target unconscious in an instant. Here's hoping it worked!

Touch Attack: 1d20+9=18 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2057327/)
Asleep for: 1d4=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2057328/) rounds if successful. Just enough time to tie him up or something, though I'm not sure what good that's going to do.
Not sure what save he's supposed to make. It says "Fort, Standard, Cha-based" under Save, but then in the description it mentions the target making a Will Save. So you'll have to go over Cause Unconsciousness yourself. Activating this power takes 6PP from KZ's pool.

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

Your hand goes through his shoulder like it's not even there, and he grins, but only for an instant. Your electrical attack still goes off, but not quite as you expected - as your hand moves through him, you brush the top of his forearm, which *is* quite solid, and the electrical buildup discharges, arcing through the guy's entire body. And "through" is no metaphor - it fills his body, arcing about as if he were one of those plasma lamps (http://schools-wikipedia.org/images/228/22849.jpg), illuminating him from within quite spectacularly and revealing him to be little more than a transparent image. Except, of course, for the forearm holding the flashlight and bag of games, which you just brushed - he jumps and drops both items with a curse. Immediately he begins to lean down to pick them up, but stops when Nos warns him off, brandishing his katana: I'm guessing that this would just go right through your head, but if you want to use that arm for anything else again, I'd leave those be. Instead, the would-be thief goes to rub his arm like someone who's just hit their funny bone, but since he's forgotten that only one forearm is solid, his other hand goes right through the arm. Glaring at you both, he says Well...*you're* no fun. I totally saw those first, and now you want to take 'em, just 'cause you outnumber me. But uh, good luck with taking me in - what're you gonna do, ask real nicely? With the same swishing sound you've heard twice now, he successfully begins rubbing his forearm, glaring at you both. As soon as the swishing sound ends, you can no longer hear anything from him at all.

You know from your experience with Nos that he wouldn't cut anyone's arm off, but clearly this guy doesn't know that.


Judy: Will continue when we've finished PMing.
Pulse/Reaper: Reaper's up, waiting for him to post.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"We don't have any interest in taking this stuff. Kid Zeus said as he looked at his own hand and frowned at the lack of success he'd just had. "Unlike you, we're not thieves." he added, glaring right back. "So, what are you, some kind of ghost mutate? You can phase through stuff? That would explain how you've been robbing all of these businesses blind."

Hadyn wanted to keep this guy talking while he tried to figure out a way to subdue him so that he could be taken into custody. Apparently, even energy didn't affect ghost-boy...So, he doubted that just giving him a solid punch would do much good. That made Nos pretty much as useless as Kid Zeus was at the moment, unless the vampire-like post-human had some sort of Dracula hypnosis under his cape. If they couldn't hit him, how were they going to force him to become solid again so that they could knock him out? And what would they do once he woke up again? It's not like the handcuffs he was carrying would hold someone who could just phase right through them. Ugh...why couldn't the universe have thrown another giant spider or something at them?

"Why are you doing this, man? This could ruin your life. I know you may think you're invincible but there are a lot of powered people registered with the police department now and I guarantee one of them will be able to stop you if we don't. They'll put you in a cell you can't phase through and throw away the key...and for what? A bunch of video games? What were you thinking?" Kid Zeus said, trying to appeal to ghost-boy the same way he'd reasoned with Riff when he first found the rocker trying to blow up his dad's squad car.

Just trying to get him talking while I come up with some sort of plan. I figured either a Diplomacy roll (+9) or a Gather Information check (+13) would be appropriate. I got a 10 on the d20 roll, so apply it to whichever. 1d20=10 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2058875/)

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion

Moving swiftly, but fluidly through the hospital lobby as the phone rang, he hoped that Jack would take his time picking up.

Absent minded of me to have a conversation in such a public place. No way to know who's listening in.
No point in exposing my whole hand to Jack either.

He heard Jack pick up, giving some trite greeting in a tone that Draven imagined he reserved for business meetings and unlisted numbers. He must have caught him off guard.

Emerging from the front of the hospital, he fell into a flat out sprint, not stopping until he was a half-block down the street before launching himself onto the top of a lampost, balancing with little effort.

This location should be a little bit more private and the backlighting should serve well enough to hide my features.
Thank the Spirit I invested in the windproof microphone for this UB-Tooth. Avoiding questions like "are you about to jump off of a building?" assures me that I made the right choice.

Taking a moment to focus himself, the now familiar sensation of his self generated disguise receeding from his features registering only faintly, he took the briefest of moments to consider his words as he responded.

"It's Draven. Sounds like someone forgot to update their contacts list. Or did I catch you at a bad time?
My apologies about the delay there, I hate having private conversations in overly public places. I'm sure you understand."

OOC: MK, I think it might work out best all the way around if we had the conversation through PM. Then, if desired, post it here as we see fit.
Let me know.

* * *
Making his way across town at a leisurely pace while staying aware of his surroundings, he headed back to his car. Making sure to stay clear of security, he navigated the verticle distance back to his vehicle.

I can't remember the last time I've done this much traveling in one day. Never mind this much traveling on foot. Years I imagine. Thankfully my cardio has never been better thanks to the recent "changes" in my life...
Not that there aren't down sides. Most girls aren't as accepting of a guy with which skin to skin contact could be potentially deadly. Come to think of it, I wonder if she knows that...

Being concientious of how he approached his vehicle, he got inside and changed back into his street clothes.

I guess it's a trade-off. Food and transit costs become virtually nonexistent, but careful thought has to be taken when giving your loved ones a hug...or shaking hands with a new aquaintance.

Relaxing everything but his night-vision and hiding his unusual eyes behind his tinted glasses, he exited the garage, arriving at Tasha's dorm in a few short minutes.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper says, "You seem remarkably calm for one who is staring death in the face. Perhaps we should PUT THE FEAR IN YOU." He then moves swiftly past the ordinary thugs and grabs D-Train in his deadly embrace.

The Reaper moves up to D-Train and tries to start a grapple. No AoO thanks to total concealment (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/combat/combatModifiers.htm#totalConcealment). Make an opposed grapple check and a save against fear, you arrogant SoB. :smallbiggrin:

[roll0]
[roll1]

[harmonictempest]

Reaper/Pulse

You silently close the distance between yourself and the arrogant gang leader, counting on the darkness to make it impossible for him to strike back, and harder to dodge. As your claws close around his arm, he reflexively pulls away, and though you very nearly hold him, his arm pulls out of your grasp, accomplishing little except mangling that arm of his suit. He looks legitimately angry for the first time since you entered, and says You mess with my suit…that’s not smart. You’re dead, once these lights come back on. He steps back to put a few bodies between you two, and though it's only the first small sign that you’re inconveniencing him at all, it clearly annoys him to have to give ground.

He shouts for his thugs to open fire again, but the withering hail of lead that follows is less than spectacular. Not having seen where Reaper and Riff moved, none of the thugs are able to effectively target them, and Pulse, though they know he is at the door, is as effectively hidden by the darkness as everything else. In addition, two very scary superheroes have just waltzed in, and about half the time these guys are working too hard not to piss themselves to be able to get off a shot. Of the half dozen bullets that come whizzing Pulse’s way, only one strikes home in his upper arm while another, though clearly an expert shot, goes through where his head was a moment ago, instead of hitting him.

Tiny, clearly not the smartest of souls, realizes he’s not going to easily make it through the crowd, and changes direction again, winding up almost exactly where he started by the far wall.

The thug next to Riff reaches down to find him, but stops when the rumbling increases, until everyone pauses to attend to it; Riff quickly scrambles under the table toward where he last heard Reaper speak. By this point it is obvious that the rumbling is the roaring sound of a high wind. The table, chairs and everything else in the room begin shaking, as the back wall (the one facing the outside), slowly bulges inward and disintegrates. After the first few cement blocks fall, it's destruction accelerates, and the last chunks of wall fly into the room like an explosion. Tiny, just adjacent to it, weathers the bulk of the pounding with a quiet grimace – impacts that would have felled normal humans paining him, but not severely. One block, through some fluke of wind, flies like an angry missile across the entire length of the room, buzzing past Reaper’s head and planting itself in the chest of a thug near the door by Pulse, plowing him to the ground like a sledgehammer.

As you likely anticipated from the moment you heard the wind, Gust is standing in the gap when the rest of the rubble falls, the faint light from a streetlamp outside illuminating his angular features. Mildly (though clearly proud of himself), he quips, Riff, didn’t your mother tell you about talking to strangers? All the gangsters in the room can do little more than gawp at this turn of events, aside from D-Train, who maintains his composure despite being only a half dozen feet from the new arrival.

Reaper/Pulse: There is now weak illumination (low-light, from the streetlamp outside) in the room. However, due to the surprise of Gust’s entrance, opponents aside from D-Train will be flat-footed this round.

Reaper: your touch attack fails, even with him denied Dex bonus – sorry, but gang leaders tend to have enough class levels to get away with some arrogance, especially when you roll a 9. :-(

You recognize Gust showing up as pretty good news, remembering his competence when you two fought against S(ch)teven.

Pulse: Please take 5 damage (this takes into account your DR). Sizing up the situation as you enter the room, you feel cautiously optimistic about your chances. Tiny, D-Train, and Riff are clearly unknowns, which makes any estimate vague at best, and this many experienced street thugs with guns in a close space would ordinarily shred almost any threat within a minute or two in a hail of lead. However, surprise, superpowers and darkness have given you an edge for now, and it seemed to be a fight that you could win, you hope. When Gust enters, the equation shifts – you now have someone else on your side, but the light from the streetlamp that is weakly illuminating the room dilutes your advantage.


Kid Zeus/Nos

The figure grins (you think) at your accurate assessment. With a mocking bow, he says Aether’s the name, being awesome’s the game. Why am I doing this? Hell, because I can – once you can pull off this kinda stuff, everything else seems kinda lame. Besides, who’s honestly gonna stop me? What’re they gonna do, make a cell out of maaaaagic? He relaxes somewhat, seeing that you’d rather talk than futilely try to hit him anymore. So what I was thinking was that if I did this long enough, someone might show up to try and stop me, and then things would get fun. Mostly for me. He chuckles, in that same oddly echoing voice.

Having bought yourself a little time to think, you consider what might work. After initially dismissing the electricity, you come back to it. Maybe it just didn’t affect him because that attack was supposed to knock him out, not hurt him. After all, the electricity seemed to arc across his body just fine, it just didn’t hurt him because there wasn’t enough of him there. On the other hand, maybe only a mental attack would hold him, though Nos doesn’t seem to be about to pull a hypnotist act - he seems rather nonplussed by the situation. Or…hmm, if he was in a gaseous state, maybe a stiff wind would blow him away. All you can tell for sure is that a fist ain’t gonna do much, and that keeping him locked up is gonna be a royal pain.


Judy

((Adapted from our PM exchange.))
Striding purposefully toward the meeting, you notice the dark figure following you rather later than you would have hoped, perhaps because of their skill at hiding their pursuit. Taking a few moments to think, and fighting your immediate urge to peel off around the nearest corner and lose them, you casually turn northward, hoping to get out of the shady south side where most muggings happen. With your impressive knowledge of the locale, you’re easily able to pick the most direct route, but your change of course only confirms that he or she is in fact following you. Quickening your pace while another Judy leaves home and heads swiftly towards the area, you try to leave him behind, to no avail. You clearly notice when he opens his phone and speaks briefly into it, but are unable to make out words, nor for the life of you can you figure out what he wants, since he doesn’t seem as intent on catching up with you as a mugger would. More frightened now, but nearly out of the worst part of town, you are grateful that he does not seem to be closing the gap, you turn back forward from looking at him just in time to catch a flicker of movement in the alley you’re passing. Spotting him coming your way at full speed still doesn’t quite give you the time to react you need, and he roughly grabs you, pinning your arms. A moment later, a cloth is pressed over your face, and a sickly sweet smell is the last thing you notice before that Judy goes unconscious, effectively cutting off her input to you.

Around this time, the Judy still at home notices an email from Nerros, timestamped about 15 minutes ago. It is short and to the point, reading only:
don't ocme don't come tooo dangrous!! Will contact u alter. ~N

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

*knock*...*knock*...*knock*

Standing infront of Natasha's door, he stood casually with his hands in his pockets while he waited for her to open the door, musing idly to himself as he did so.

After spending half the day running and leaping across town, it feels a little odd climbing the stairs like everyone else, even if I do take two steps at a time.
Hopefully, Natasha will help me keep this visit light. As long as she's not dead, maimed, or incarcerated, I'm happy, but I just need to know that there isn't anyone who might still want to do that to her.
Not knowing each other's pet nemisis tends to put a serious dampener or building healthy relationships...and we have enough issues between us to keep us busy for quite a while.


Pushing a stray hair back, he continued to wait.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse whips out a device and points it, first at one gang member, then another. The guns of two of the henchmen go flying upward toward the ceiling as he raises the device up and then when he pushes a button, they guns crumple like foil. "I warned you! Guns shall never still the pulse of my life!"

Actual events... Pulse pulls a fake device from his belt and activates it (it looks like the Ghost-Detector from Ghost Busters) and points it. He magnetically grabs the guns of the two henchmen who's bullets actually hit him and did damage (one in each magnetic 'hand') and lifts them up toward the ceiling (the men can hang on to their guns or let go... that's their choice). Pulse moves the device upward as he does this, making it seem that the device is doing it. Then, with the barrels pointed up toward the ceiling, he presses a button, simultaneously crushing the two guns in his telekinetic grip. If the villians have let go, they probably fall back and may stumble or fall, if they pull the triggers, the guns just shoot up through the ceiling, if they hang on, as the guns are crushed, they may go off accidentally and/or explode, possibly with their fingers crushed into the gun housing.

First attack, grab gun: [roll0]
Second attack, grab gun: [roll1]
Lift guns (costs 4pp - +2 pp per thug that hangs on to their gun = max 8)
Crush First Gun - Strength Roll: [roll2]
Crush Second Gun - Strength Roll: [roll3]

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Bwah?! Tasha muttered to herself, sitting up in her bed.

What time is it?! I must have fallen asleep!

She swung herself off her bed none-to-nimbly, and headed for the door, pulling it open to see her Draven. She flashed him a slight smile, despite her injury, and ushered him inside. Her hair was mussed from sleeping on it, and she still looked a little groggy, but she was glad to see him.

Hey. Sorry... I think I nodded off. She told him, sitting down on her bed and stretching a bit, I'm glad you came by... it's been a really weird day.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper is grateful for the assist, but curses inside at the improved lighting. He calls out, "This building's getting a bit drafty. Gust, make yourself useful and take care of the flunkies. While your at it, teach Pulse some better one-liners." He then turns on D-Train. "As for you, your suit is soon to be the least of your problems." He lunges forward, his razor-edged claws battering the mob boss, as the Reaper continues to pull his punches.


Five-foot step after D-Train, then full attack for nonlethal damage. Will save for each one that hits.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]

[The_Snark]

Judy

Judy unconsciously picks up her pace to a run as she feels the hand clap across her face, and stands upright at home. But her senses quickly go blank in the one place where she really needs them; her body subsides into something that feels like sleep but isn't. She'd been partly asleep before, though it was difficult—if she thought too much about what she was doing, the body that was asleep started awake. No such luck here—she couldn't even tell she still had a third body.

For all she knew, she might have been killed. No. No, they wouldn't have bothered drugging me if that was all they were going to do. Even discounting the thought of what had happened to her, she can't help but be unnerved by how natural the lack felt, as if she'd lost a hand and couldn't remember what it felt like to have one. S slows to a stop, realizing that even if she could find the people who'd taken her, it wouldn't be smart to confront them about it. Not alone. She forces herself to be still, despite the adrenaline running through her. ****, how do I do this? I can't very well tell anyone I've been kidnapped, they'll think I've gone mad... unless I tell them everything; there's still two of me, so I won't have any trouble being convincing. But who do I tell? Alex? Linda? One of the costumed guys running around?

And who were those guys, anyway? It wasn't a mugging, and kidnappers don't take random people from off the streets. That doctor? Somebody from Balchem, or... ugh, I don't know. Might as well throw in a bunch of government agencies bent on studying this, as long as I'm being paranoid about people I've just met. She wishes there were an easy suspect, but unfortunately, she doesn't think any of the people who knew about her were that untrustworthy. Clearly, she'd either misjudged one of them, or someone else had found out.

Briefly checking her computer a few minutes later gets her Nerros's message. "Thanks for the advance warning, a**hole." Probably wasn't fair, but she'd just been kidnapped. She didn't have to be fair.

Except... that was a lot of spelling errors for a professional to make. Some people didn't care about spelling online, but it still seemed to Judy as if he'd written it in a hurry. Now that was interesting; maybe they were only interested in her because they'd noticed her meet with Nerros. She types and sends a response: Why too dangerous?

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

Looking down at Tasha, with her bandage, mussed hair and shy smile, Draven couldn't help but have a moment where he imagine she looked an awful lot like a hurt puppy that had just woke up from a nap.
He normally didn't find a lot of things adorable, but this was one of those rare moments.

He silently answered her smile a similar one of his own.

Stopping her before she turned away he reached out, stroking her cheek affectionately before following her into the room, closing the door behind himself.

Watching as she sat down on the bed, he took a moment to remove his gloves before closing his eyes in concentration.

A momentary ripple crossed over his skin, a deep vermilion echo physically expressed.

He crossed over to her then and taking her hand, pulled her gently into his arms.

Kissing her passionately but with a respectful level of control, he looked into her eyes with a rakish grin as they parted.

"I've wanted to do that ever since I saw you at the hospital...your little trick in the parking lot didn't help either."

Letting her go, he grabbed her computer chair, rolled it to the side of the bed and sat down.

With a quizical but considerate look he said, "So, tell me about your day."

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Tasha gave a wide-eyed "eep!" at the sudden kiss... shocked for a moment, before returning the gesture with a soft sigh. She plopped down onto her back on the bed when Draven released her, and smiled.

Well... that just improved it a lot! She said hazily, It's been freaking terrible up until now. I'm still not sure if getting hurt was an accident or not.

She sat up, wearily... pulling her pillow into her lap to rest on as she sat cross-legged on her bed and prepared to explain the near-unexplainable events of the day.

I met a mutant today. Entirely by accident too. He was just wandering the streets alone, making things blow up, I guess. I saw him blow up a cigarette he was trying to smoke... then part of the sidewalk. She explained, I watched him for a while while he had sushi with some woman... I slipped up a bit, and didn't want them to realize I was watching them, so I left.

She took a deep breath, pushing back a lock of dark hair before letting the story continue.

Anyway... I got outside and fireboy was there, trying to eat a hot dog or something. I probably should have just left, but it looked like he was going to set a bunch of crap on fire without meaning to. So I told him so... and who comes out but the guy from the sushi place. She explained, scootching over to Draven and wiggling her shoulders at him... a soft plea for a shoulder-rub, if ever there was one, He was a jerk! He threatened me and acted like a @#$% to me. So I told him where to stick it. Then... a big piece of glass fell on my head. I don't remember a lot after that. I just know he had something to do with it though! He probably made something up high blow up, and knock crap down onto me! That jerk tried to kill me!

She sighed, feeling slightly better after her angry rant. Settling in to her rub with a content smile... then a oddly wicked grin.

It's alright though... I know who he is... where he lives... everything. If I wanted, I could ruin his life. If I find out he DID try to kill me... It's on.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

Pulse reaches out with his technological gadget and effortlessly lifts the two guns out of the thugs’ hands. One tries to hold on, but gives up as soon as he sees that it’s going to lift him off the ground. In the dim light from the street lamp outside, they can only watch as you fold the barrels into useless hairpins. Frustrated and angry, they reach across to their left sides and pull out a second gun each, somewhat wary from having seen what happened to the first.

Reaper swings viciously at the gang leader, but only the first attack seems to connect at all. As he feels his claws grate against something hard, he realizes D-Train is probably wearing some sort of body armor under his suit, which partially explains how hard he's been to hit. All hint of smile disappears from his face as you further cut into his suit, and he cracks his knuckles unpleasantly.

Gust, responding to Reaper’s suggestion, nods and takes a moment to begin focusing the winds around him into the deadly body-tight field you saw last night on the highway. In the moment before he finishes, however, and while he is too focused on channeling his power for his superhuman reflexes to kick in, a few things happen very fast. The shorter lieutenant, the one who seemed unimpressive next to his companions earlier, suddenly lowers his gun. As he opens his mouth, your gaze is drawn to his neck, where his Adam’s apple is working jerkingly up and down, like a machine gun. With a rattling, reptilian sound, he spits a gob of goo at Gust. D-Train starts to shout Don’t bother, N--, but cuts off abruptly at the unfolding sight.

Too close for the wall-sized vortex to affect him as much, the smaller thug has, with careful precision, lobbed the gob directly onto Gust’s temple, where it splatters with a sound like a glass of ice water dropped on the floor. Instantly, as if water were actually poured over him, streaks fan out from the point of impact, and where they pass, Gust’s hair and skin grow darker from their current extremely pale color, as if something is washing off of him. You could swear you see him lose an inch of height, too, but the moment is gone almost as soon as it begins. Tiny suddenly moves with lumbering speed – in his shocked state, Gust is unable to dodge. As Tiny’s cloak parts you see, above a pair of quadruple-XL shorts and an absurdly muscled stomach, a second pair of arms below the first, equally meaty. Gust, slowly beginning to settle toward the ground as if he is having trouble controlling his flying, is pasted out the gaping hole in the wall he’s just made, with no more effort than you would take to swat a fly. There is no immediate sound of impact, but he does disappear from sight.

The exchange happens nearly before you can blink, leaving you with only the image of Gust’s shocked, oddly streaked face seared onto your retinas. For an instant, no one moves, then all of the thugs begin turning back to you, clearly surprised beyond belief (including the guy who did it) but beginning to grin slowly in the dim light from the streetlamp. D-Train turns as well, as surprised as anyone else by the unexpected display of power but grasping the implications more clearly. The smile returns to his face as he says See boys, just like I said. Now, it’s time to show you what we do with unwelcome guests.

Riff, finally seeing how close he is to a clump of thugs now that there’s light back in the room, quickly scuttles back under the table toward where he’s last seen Reaper. A moment later, an urgent voice calls to Reaper from under the table. Let’s bail, man – I can distract a few of them, but not all, and they’re gonna kill us in a few seconds here.

Pulse: You notice that the two guys who hit you are among the slightly more important lieutenants at the end of the table by D-Train, which probably explains why they have more than one gun.

Feel free to ask any questions you want, since a lot happened there. Your actions are up, followed by Riff and Gust, followed by all of them.

Layout of the room, where “up” is the wall leading outside that Gust blew a ragged hole in:
--The room is well taller than it is wide, perhaps a 2:1 ratio.
--All four walls have doors at about their middle now, thanks to Gust. The first three are traditional doors (side two are closed), while the fourth is a 15-foot wide hole in the cinder block wall.
--Pulse is at the bottom of the room, still standing at the door everyone came in by, with a handful of the junior thugs near his end of the room, who seem ready to try punches where bullets have failed.
--Reaper has his back to the top left corner of the table, with a couple of thugs directly on either side, D-Train just ahead, and Riff under the edge of the table by him.
--Tiny and the other guy are near the top right corner of the room – Gust was on a rough diagonal line between them and D-Train when he got pasted.
--The table is about a quarter of the width of the room, and three-quarters of its length - it would be easy to pass along either side of the table, except for the one or two thugs along each side who aren’t particularly close to either Reaper or Pulse.

Oooh, good rolls, except for one.

Reaper (Wis check = 16, Spot check = 28): If Gust got pasted, this can’t be good, and without the darkness, you’re a lot more vulnerable. You notice that Tiny is careful not to touch the smaller guy who spat (he needs a name…) when he swung at Gust.

Pulse (Int check = 20, Wis check = 20, Spot check = 19 (yep, nat 1)): The variables in your head shift rapidly, the equation re-calculating at the speed of light. It doesn’t look good: lights on, no Gust, and whatever that one guy can do. Tiny remains a pretty small problem – as long as you can stay out of reach. Adding up the likely number of bullets headed your way in the next few seconds, you realize that unless you greatly shift the tactical balance almost immediately, you three may be hard put to make it out alive. You’re beginning to realize that much of this is due to lots of preparation on their part – they seemed prepared for and expecting some sort of super intervention – and you’re fighting their upper echelons on their ground and their terms.


Judy

There is no immediate response from Nerros, nor does one come in the next fifteen minutes. Aside from waiting, it is not immediately apparent that anyone but you is going to take care of this.


Draven/Tasha/Jack

((Y'all are fine - carry on, carry on.))

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper turns slightly to face the strange threat of the spitting thug, but otherwise seems calm. He states, in a level, but abrupt voice, "Riff, Pulse, go. Hit the street lights on your way out. I'll be right behind you." He lifts his clawed hand to point at the vomiting villain, sending tendrils of clinging darkness to wrap around him, instilling supernatural fear in the power-draining crook. He then dives beneath the table beside Riff, throwing himself into the shadow world before his foes can retaliate.


Firing a fear beam at the power-suppressor (or whatever he is), then moving under the table, where there should still be enough shadows to meld, and melding as a swift action (unless Pulse kills the lights successfully first, then he'll meld where he is and start to flee). If I miss, I'll spend an Action Point to boost the roll (like I should have done against D-Train, but I forgot I had them).


[roll=Action Point (if necessary)]1d6

[harmonictempest]

Reaper flings out his arm with practiced ease, enveloping the spitting mutant with dark energy. The man's eyes go wide immediately and he loses the nasty grin he was beginning to turn toward the group of intruders, though a glare from D-Train is enough to keep him staying put. The movement, however, leaves Reaper open for a moment and not defending himself, and the thugs nearest to him take advantage of the opportunity. One isn't fast enough and one misses, but D-Train plants a punch solidly in Reaper's ribs, with a weight that says he'll have a bruise in the shape of the ring he's wearing. Still, it's better than a punch from Tiny, and it occupies the thugs nearest to him long enough for someone else to slip past. Reaper escapes any further assault by diving under the table and melding into shadow.

Reaper, please take 14 bludgeoning damage.

Pulse, I know it's awkward to bring a metagame concept IC, but Pulse is aware, in whatever in-game way you choose to be, that the group near the upper left has expended an AoO, and without special training (aka Combat Reflexes) will be too busy to hit you if you go past. This does not go for the thugs along the sides of the table, obviously.

Pulse is up, followed by Riff and then the Suits.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Puls lifts his glider up toward the ceiling, hitting a button that makes the engine noise whine louder. He reaches out with his magnetism to short out the street lights on this side of the building.

Disable Device: [roll0]

Burn an action point to do this quickly.

As he puts the lights out, he grabs the glider, holding it up high, as he flys off of it, silently heading toward the opening (hopefully nobody seeing him do so, their ears focused on the glider noise instead).

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

Listening intently, he aquiesced to his girlfriends unspoken request with a goodnatured smirk and half lidded roll of his eyes hidden from Natasha's view as he stood up behind her.
As he rubbed the sides and base of her neck with the tips of his fingers, his hands slowly slid downward as his mouth descended to take their place, he found himself secretly glad that he had given himself so much extra time before his meeting with his olf friend.

I'd hate to rush this, even if it will only be a short visit...

"Hmmmm..." he murmured into her neck, restraining himself after only a few gentle kisses, resisting the urge to go further until he had heard more. Such a gesture seemed innapropriate as the the story obviously ended with her in the hospital.
He did so with some difficulty though, the sensation of every hair on her neck slowly standing up as goose bumps formed was inexpressibly distracting in the simple satisfaction it brought.

"Regardless this guy sounds like a..." Draven began, trailing off as what the young beautiful warm injured woman before him concluded her story, rolling her slight but strong shoulders under his strong hands, which he swiftly, if reluctantly, withdrew at that very moment.

His eyes narrowed, his mind working furiously, mostly in slowly dissolving disbelief as he restrained the darkness within him from driving him to do darker things.

"Describe him. Tell me everything."

Although, even as the near demand slipped from his lips, he was almost certain he knew the answer to the first question. The answers to the second were more likely to simply serve as useful, if not absolutely necessary, information in the next few hours.

Talk about divided interests.

Giving her a look that made it clear how important and serious his request was, he lowered himself slowly into the computer chair, his arms crossed.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Riff/Gust

As Pulse reaches out to cut the lights, a deep metal chord comes from under the table with a "Whumpf!", sending it into the wall of the left side of the room, and effectively decking the few thugs standing there. With the path relatively clear, Pulse and Riff exit the back room of the club with little fuss, finding themselves on a quiet alley on the other side of the building from the entrance. A series of shots pursue you, but none are well-aimed. Looking around, you see that the streetlights on either side of the one you shorted are still working, putting you in a pool of darkness a dozen yards across.

((You both pretty much just make it out of the building this round. So, you're still on the scene, given that there's still thugs 5-10 feet away inside the room, but they don't appear to see you in the dark, so let me know which direction you're trying to head. You don't immediately see Gust, and you're surrounded by the backsides of nondescript commercial buildings, most only a story or two high.))


Reaper

The room grows chaotic with the lights again extinguished - your protective table is gone, but with the lights out, you stay melded. D-Train roars down the the room SOMEone go see what the ****ing **** Fink's been up to, and a few bodies boil out into the hallway. Now keep your eyes peeled and see if they left anyone behind. People instinctively begin moving away from the gap in the wall; it's difficult to see much, as people are currently walking over the spot you lie melded. It has the air of a situation beginning to break up, but guns are still held high and there is tension in the air.
((You two are both up again))

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse gestures and his glider suddenly roars to full noise level and dives at the gunmen before pulling out of the building through the gap. Pulse himself remains hovering just above ground level, outside in the shadows while his glider soars upward, above the street.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper travels rapidly across the floor, invisible to normal sight. He exits through the hole, then proceeds to travel upwards, along the club's wall, coming to a stop on top of the roof. He petals Wiz, <Room for one more? I'm on the roof of the club.>

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Tasha rolled her eyes at Draven, trying so hard to be glowering and dark, Before she knew him better it might have worked, but she knew he wasn't about to hurt her.

Relax hun, I'm a big girl... I can take care of myself. She told him with a weary sigh, It's sweet that you want to protect me, and all... but I don't want this guy to think anything about me that he shouldn't know.

She scootched back to rest her back against some of the pillows bunched up near her headboard, and flicked her hair back... only to immediately regret that she had. She made a note to herself, to wear a ponytail until her head and neck healed.

@#$%! Ow... She said with a grimace, giving a sigh and looking at Draven, Ok, ok... fine. Just keep me out of it, ok? I don't want this guy knowing I can do things... or that I have "special" friends, alright?

Tasha curled in as comfortably as she could and slipped a blanket around her knees... settling in to tell her tale.

His name was Jack Pretto. He's some kind of Las Vegas-type. Card shark, gambler-guy. He is fully of the belief that he is the @#$%, and that women find him suave. She explained with a chuckle, He can make things blow up... and doesn't really know how he's doing it. It's possible he hurt me accidentally, in fact. It's also possible he didn't do it, but... a bit too much of a coincidence for me. If you're going to bend him in inappropriate ways, have fun... but be careful. He doesn't know what he can do... and that's dangerous. If his power is blowing up whole blocks, and you scare him....

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper/Riff/Gust

The hubbub in the room you've just vacated remains the same, though it seems to be consolidating away from the hole in the wall. As Reaper waits for Pulse's reply, he spots Gust, huddled on the same side of the street a few roofs down. Sitting with his knees drawn up and head between them, he is rocking slowly.

We can drop initiative now, if y'all want. The thugs don't seem to be coming after you, not right now, anyway. The only consideration that you might wanna remember ('cause your characters probly would) is the recorder, still firmly attached to the bottom of the table...which is on its side against the wall. It is still dark in there for now.

It's been less than thirty seconds from the time the lights went off.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse brings the glider to him, mounts it and rides up to Reaper. "They don't seem interested in continuing their little party. Shall we check out Gust?"

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper/Riff/Gust

Riff (having flown up next to you under his own power) runs his hands through his hair, makes minor adjustments to his clothing, and generally gets himself back under control after that harrowing experience. That was...that was intense, man. Thanks for showing up - looks like Gust wouldn't have got me out on his own. How'd you find me, anyway?

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper answers Riff, "We had no idea you had even been captured. Fortunately, we were already in place to spy on D-Train and his thugs. Which reminds me, the recorder. Pulse, can you retrieve it without frying it? If not, I don't think there was anything significant enough on it to risk me melding, go down there, unmelding, grabbing it, remelding, and coming back, praying that Vomitman doesn't hit me with the same thing he hit Gust with. We can cover the highlights by memory. After all, it's not like the meeting had even really gotten underway before we crashed it." He looks to Pulse for confirmation either way, before turning to Riff. "Hey Elvis, go check on Gust. I've seen dead guys that looked in better shape than him right now."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shakes his head, "No... enough magnetism to grab the recorder would most certainly fry it."

[harmonictempest]

Riff shrugs and heads over to have a look at Gust, who is doing a pretty good impression of being in a high state of shock. After a few moments, light spills out into the street through the gaping hole - someone's clearly gotten to the fuse box, finally. 1337 suddenly chirps in your ear ((I think Reaper has the earpiece?)). Hey coppers, how's the stakeout going? Didja remember your donuts? It's pretty quiet back here.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Natasha Verraine

Tasha rolled her eyes at Draven, trying so hard to be glowering and dark, Before she knew him better it might have worked, but she knew he wasn't about to hurt her.

Relax hun, I'm a big girl... I can take care of myself. She told him with a weary sigh, It's sweet that you want to protect me, and all... but I don't want this guy to think anything about me that he shouldn't know.

She scootched back to rest her back against some of the pillows bunched up near her headboard, and flicked her hair back... only to immediately regret that she had. She made a note to herself, to wear a ponytail until her head and neck healed.

@#$%! Ow... She said with a grimace, giving a sigh and looking at Draven, Ok, ok... fine. Just keep me out of it, ok? I don't want this guy knowing I can do things... or that I have "special" friends, alright?

Tasha curled in as comfortably as she could and slipped a blanket around her knees... settling in to tell her tale.

His name was Jack Pretto. He's some kind of Las Vegas-type. Card shark, gambler-guy. He is fully of the belief that he is the @#$%, and that women find him suave. She explained with a chuckle, He can make things blow up... and doesn't really know how he's doing it. It's possible he hurt me accidentally, in fact. It's also possible he didn't do it, but... a bit too much of a coincidence for me. If you're going to bend him in inappropriate ways, have fun... but be careful. He doesn't know what he can do... and that's dangerous. If his power is blowing up whole blocks, and you scare him....

Draven

His expression relaxed as Natasha replied, shaking his head once and running his hand over his still clean shaven face.
Closing his eyes and grimmacing briefly, he responded with a a single stiff nod.

Hmmmm...wonder if my seemingly nonexistent metabolic needs have anything to do with that... he thought absently.

"Natasha, you know that I care deeply for you, as new as all this might be.
You also know, I imagine, that I have a hard time with the concept of...losing people and that this is more than a little too reminiscent for comfort.
Knowing all that, I want you to know, if you didn't already, that the last thing I want is to see you hurt or in trouble, least of all, by another empowered individual."

Leaning forward, he looked her in the eye, a both rueful and apologietic expression on his face, "Any normal boyfriends initial response, NS or not, would be to find the person that hurt you and aquaint him with the real meaning of agony at the first opportunity presented...
Despite all that though, this situation is, unfortunately, slightly more complicated."

He paused a moment to kick off his boots, throwing one leg over the arm of the chair. This was shaping up to be a longer visit than he anticipated. Not an entirely unpleasant turn of events, all things considered.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, a few questions to clarify.
After how paranoid you've been about being seen in public, avoiding the meeting and all, what compelled you to approach the unbelievably high profile NS Inferno?
More over, what would compell Jack to approach you in first place and what would then drive him to, purposely or not, attack you? You see, it seems slightly out of character for him, from what little I recall."

Draven smiled a slow, very dry smile as that sunk in.

"Now do you see my conundrum?"

The question is, how am I going to deal with it?...

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Tasha sighed. Draven was as protective as any guy who gave half a crap. Which was good, at least. Sweet, even. In his usual verbose way, he was just telling her cared about her. She smiled at the thought of it.

On the other hand... explaining what she's been up to would be a bit... harder. There weren't really many ways to put it, other than the obvious.

Trust me... I know it was a bad idea. But the man was about to set a bunch of stuff on fire. She said with a groan, But more than that... the blast thing downtown kinda... worried me. Just because I don't run around doing stupid, obvious stuff like some idiot in a cape doesn't mean someone else won't. And what happens if the next wannabe @#$%ing super villain decides to blow up someplace else? Someone I know might be there! I might be there! Or even, worse... some jerk gets the "power" to give everyone cancer by standing near them. I figure I should at least learn more about this whole mess, if only for the sake of not being ignorant.

She sighed, after the verbal tirade... and got up to get herself a drink from the fridge... bypassing some orange juice for a soda. She stalked over to Draven, and sat down on the floor under him wiggling her shoulders a bit to cozy up to him... and relax.

I didn't mean to get hurt... I didn't even expect to run across a "super" whatever we're called now... today. No one knows I can do things... and it's staying that way. Don't worry. She'll tell him, comfortingly, But with all these idiots running around in suits... it's only a matter of time before someone screws up, or decides to INTENTIONALLY take out part of town... and I'd rather not be blind-sided.

She'll allow herself a smirk, adding one more thing, What's so wrong about knowing each mutant's real name, address, and phone number?

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

That was...odd. Did she even notice that I just rather blatantly admitted to knowing her assailant personally?

Caught slightly off guard by her unexpected response, he didn't immediately respond, but instead reached down and, after running his fingers thoughtfully through her hair, guided her off of the floor onto his lap.

Where did all that come from? Is it my imagination, or is she being defensive? Or, maybe bumped her head harder than I thought...I don't remember her saying anything about X-rays after all.
You'd think that would be standard procedure though.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her gently.

"Of course. We discussed this once before and I generally approved. The more we know, the better off we are. We just have to be conscientious of whom we entrust with the information we already possess, and that which we gain as we move forward," he said softly into her hair.

"Idiots in costumes huh? I resemble that remark, remember? Sure I pull it off better than most, but..."

Suddenly, as he replayed her words in his mind, a thought struck him like a ton of bricks.

But...how? Unless she is capable of much greater distances than before. Or perhaps...

Smiling ever so slyly into the nape of her neck, he asked casually in a subtly sarcastic off hand tone, "So, what did you think of The Meeting?"

Couldn't resist calling her out on that slip, intentional or not. Hope you don't mind.
Let me know if you have any serious questions. My PM box is always open.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Clever boy... Tasha thought with a inward smile, Should I tell him what I can do? I'm pretty sure he wouldn't freak out... Or would he?

Instead she shrugged, It seemed like a waste of time to me. It was mostly some kind of meet-and-greet for people who think they're X-men. Some of those kids were far, far too young to be out doing what they're probably doing. This is gonna end badly.

She settled into Draven's lap comfortably, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Then immediately regretted the decision, and just leaned back against him instead.

Ow... She muttered, Anywho... don't be so conspiratorial babe... I'm the one who told you about it. Did you really think I wouldn't find SOME way to find out what happened there? As for Jack, the man is a gambler... lying is what he does for a living. If you know him and think he's a cool guy... maybe what happened was an accident... but he certainly sounded pretty harsh when I talked to him. Stress, maybe?

Giving a long sigh, she draped herself over her new man-pillow and curled her fingers through his hair, giving him a playful smile.

You can handle all that, ok? Just... leave me out of it entirely, ok? Don't even mention you know me. Please? It wouldn't take TOO much digging to find out who I hang around with, and then we could be in trouble.

Then she sealed her deal with a kiss... just to make her point. Or perhaps just because she liked kissing him. Or just maybe... a little of each.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

Pulling back enough to look down at her, he said, "Love, I'm hurt that you'd even feel the need to remind me of leaving you out of things."

His voice held an obviously put on element of hurt, but it slowly became more serious as he continued, "In fact, I've been thinking about how to help you out in that regard. But, we can save that conversation for tomorrow I suppose."

He smiled knowingly, but pleasantly enough as he gently grasped her jaw and angled it towards his.

"I trust that, for now Natasha, you have your reasons for not being direct with me. But try to keep in mind the amazing things we could accomplish together..." he paused to deeply appreciate her lips for a moment, pulling away with some reluctant, "in Rainport of course."

"In the meantime..." he trailed off as he picked her up bodily from his lap as he stood up from the chair, moving as if she barely existed and laying her carefully upon her bed as he leaned over her.

"Leave Jack to me," he whispered, a wicked ominous smile gracing his lips as he looked deeply into her eyes.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

I'm not trying to mislead you, babe. I'm just not comfortable talking about everything... that's all. I don't really want you to know everything about me. I don't ask you to tell me everything about you... I don't even know exactly what you can do.

She have a soft squeak as he moved her to the bed... a little impressed at how easily he moved her... even as light as she was, he made it seem effortless.

Go... have fun. TRY not to kill anyone. She'll say, with a soft giggle, And give me a call tomorrow, ok? I want to know how things went. I'd invite you to stay here tonight... but I'm not feeling so great. I'm just gonna get to sleep after you go.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

His smile persisted, although softening ever so slightly at her fairly obvious preventative hint.

"I know...I certainly will try..." he replied cryptically, leaning in to whisper in her ear "and I'm certain you would."

Smoothing her hair and tracing the curve of her jaw one final time he said goodbye and, after returning his boots to his feet departed into the night.

Regardless of intent, Jack had drastically altered the course of his evening. Not only that, he had very likely purposely hurt his girlfriend. The way he saw it, Jack owed him. Bigtime.

The cold smile emerged once more upon his lips as he turned the key in the ignition of his expensive coupe, the engine purring to life.

One way or another, he was going to pay. Somone always had to pay. How...? Well that was predominantly up to Jack.

I just hope you brought your wallet old friend.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper responds to 1337, "Not so quiet here, I'm afraid. We've had a bit of a tussle with D-Train. He had a super captive and we needed to get him out of there. Fortunately, we picked up some useful intel. Unfortunately, we left the tape and D-Train's got a few supers of his own on the payroll, so odds of us getting it out are slim. If Pulse doesn't have any objections, I think it's time to call it a night and debrief." The Reaper glances at Pulse, awaiting confirmation.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "I concur... I'm not anxious to face anyone who can depower us..."

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus
Defense: 19
HP: 72/72
PP: 72/78


The figure grins (you think) at your accurate assessment. With a mocking bow, he says Aether’s the name, being awesome’s the game. Why am I doing this? Hell, because I can – once you can pull off this kinda stuff, everything else seems kinda lame. Besides, who’s honestly gonna stop me? What’re they gonna do, make a cell out of maaaaagic? He relaxes somewhat, seeing that you’d rather talk than futilely try to hit him anymore. So what I was thinking was that if I did this long enough, someone might show up to try and stop me, and then things would get fun. Mostly for me. He chuckles, in that same oddly echoing voice.

"Fun for you, huh? You know, I'm up for a little fun, myself. For instance, I noticed that you conduct electricity very, very well. Last time I was only trying to short circuit the nerves in your brain a little bit and knock you out, not try to hurt you. This time, though, I think I'm going to think a little bigger. I did give you the opportunity to give up." Kid Zeus said as his eyes glowed a little brighter and electrical discharges ran over his shoulders and down his arms in small jolts, casting strange shadows on the walls of the small store. An arc of electricity jumped between the first two fingers on his right hand as he held them up in a sort of fork-like gesture. "Why don't we see what this one does, hm?" he grinned as the space between his fingers snapped and crackled like an active taser gun.

Without any more warning, Kid Zeus flung his arm out toward Aether, the small crackles of current around his arms suddenly going into overdrive. The energy gathered into more or less an example of ball lightning in his palm before turning into a bolt and flashing across the intervening distance with a thunderous BOOM, rocking the game cartridges off of the walls.

Lightning Bolt! [roll0]
Potential Damage: [roll1]

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

1337 responds slowly. Well...huh. That's, uh, interesting. It's difficult to blame him for his slow reaction - after all, the last three times he checked with you in this hour you had absolutely nothing new to tell him. Well, the tape isn't strictly necessary if you guys heard the whole meeting anyway. I can do some fun stuff with voice analysis, but it's mostly icing. Anyway, glad to hear you guys made it okay and got the dude out. I was ringing in this time to say that I've been monitoring some of the message traffic I tracked down earlier, and it looks like the delivery that was scheduled for later tonight got moved to lunchtime tomorrow. Something about a the truck driver getting a speeding ticket crossing the Rockies. So-- oh. Oh sh!t. I bet...aw man, you guys might've been set up at that meeting. Gimme jussssssst a few seconds to skim back through the messages I intercepted and run a few analyses, and I'll get back to you. You hear the sounds of speedy typing in the background.

A dozen yards down the roof, Riff has been quietly talking to Gust for a minute. A quiet *whump* draws your attention, though which of them was the cause is hard to say. Looking over, you see Riff expostulating with a Gust who is trying very hard to wave him away.


Kid Zeus/Nos

The result is immediate and gratifying. The smoky figure in front of you shakes violently for the second that the electricity hits him, in complete silence. Nos cheers, Sock it to him, Sparky! Seeming to find his voice, Aether curses you in a completely different tone than his former light banter. F**k you ******-******, man, that ****ing HURT! Jumping backward reflexively into one of the racks of games between two aisles, he continues without stopping. I'm gonna make you regret that, you *******! Those games were mine, and you can't just show up and take 'em! Find your own ******** store to cherry pick from!
Please see OoC to clarify mechanics.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"For the love of- WE'RE NOT BREAKING THE LAW, @SSWIPE!" Kid Zeus yelled after the fleeing Aether as his feet left the ground and he shot back out of the back of the store. He almost had tried for another shot, but he suspected he'd done enough damage to the store just by standing in it already. So instead, he took to the air to get a bird's-eye view, trying to spot the fleeing suspect. He tried to fly along the line of Aether's route of escape, paralleling his course so that he'd be able to zero him when he came out of the wall on the other side. He left Nos in the store so that Aether wouldn't try to double-back. (Even though Nos probably couldn't do anything to harm the guy, Hadyn was gambling that his lightning strike had rattled Aether enough that he wouldn't push his luck.)

Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

For a dozen seconds, nothing happens. Then you hear a sudden Awww no you don't!! from Nos, still inside the door, followed by a *thump* and the sounds of running. Nos bursts out the back door of the shop the same way you came, katana held high. He went invisible and grabbed the games! Of course I did, Sherlock, comes the same mocking voice, from two dozen feet in front of Nos. "Sparky" here left them unguarded, after all. The sound of his feet abruptly stops. Nos catches up to the area where he heard him and takes an experimental swing or two, but doesn't connect with anything.

From his voice and footsteps, you are able to pinpoint his location closely, but not exactly. On a game grid, we'd be looking at having a choice of one or two squares that he might be in. The two swings Nos made were near to, but not at exactly the same spot.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"I doubt whether those games will even work now, Aether, but if you're that determined..." Kid Zeus said as he flew down within range of the two metahumans on the ground. Crackling with energy, he made sure that he was at an angle in which Nos was out of the line of fire and threw out both of his hands. It took a little more effort, but he was able to force the lightning bolt which he normally threw into more of a forked cone effect, blanketing the area in which Aether seemed to be. This way, he couldn't miss by choosing the wrong area.

Using an Action Point to pull off some power stretching. It's 3pps/die for a cone attack and 2pps/die for a line, so I figure that adding one pp/die would be fair for the activation cost increase. Cool?

Also, I think I've been doing this all wrong. I don't have to do an attack roll for my energy attacks. They work more like Lightning Bolt from D&D, automatically hitting but for a Reflex Save for half damage. Not sure what the save DC is, but it says "Standard DC, Constitution-Based"

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

Alighting by Nos, Kid Zeus strains, forcing his usual lightning bolt into a different shape to send out a cone of forked lightning, blanketing the area he last heard Aether in. Nos ducks unnecessarily as the wave goes by, rubbing his neck with a rueful grin where all the hair has stood up.

The multiplicity of bolts strikes the entire area, none more than a foot or two apart. There is a moment of silence - then, from somewhere near the center of the area, Aether's voice comes again, with the slightly strained quality of someone standing very still with their stomach sucked in. Nice trick, Sparky. I'm a little bit faster than that, though. Why are you so hard over about this, anyway? You could just go back there and grab a few of your own, and both of us call it a night. They're gonna blame it all on me, anyway, and that new PS4 game is way overpriced to begin with. So think it over, buddy. We don't have to be butting heads here. So I'm gonna head on home, and you guys get to make a quick decision, 'cause I'm pretty sure there was an alarm on that back door, and the cops'll be here soon. So--

GRAHH!! Nos, tired of the talk, suddenly charges past you toward the voice, arms spread wide. He visibly collides with a heavy invisible object; though he had successfully located Aether, his attempt to grab him fails. As he stumbles past the point of impact and regains his footing, a small spray of video games flies out of midair, apparently spilling from the now-invisible bag they were being carried in. There is a distinct disappointed pause from Aether, who then mutters Whatever; your loss, dude, as the sound of his voice begins to move away.

Mechanics:
After your turn, Nos readied a partial charge to be triggered whenever he located Aether, hoping to knock down or grapple him (and yes, KZ may be surprised that Nos thought he'd actually connect - but then, you never asked him why there was a loud thump from inside the store when he was supposedly fighting an incorporeal). He located him successfully when he spoke, and beat the concealment miss chance, but failed the actual attack. Then Aether, having only used a free action to speak so far, used the rest of his turn, and now you're up again.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"Man, you are thick. For the last time...We're here to stop you and turn you in, not steal anything for ourselves!" Kid Zeus said, annoyed, beginning to think Aether was just trying to get on his nerves since there was no possible way anyone with an IQ over forty wouldn't have realized the situation by now.

He tried to home in on Aether's voice, working out in his mind which was it was moving from where Nos had tried for that tackle to get a general estimation of his target's location. Then, calling upon a surge of that nearly limitless internal battery he'd learned to harness, he sent another arching bolt of electricity snapping out from the palm of his hand. This close, Kid Zeus hoped that he'd have a better chance at hitting his target.

DC17 Reflex Save for half of [roll0] damage. I guess I should roll a die for miss chance? D100? [roll1]

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

A small chuckle off to the left of your bolt is the only indication that Aether has perfectly understood the annoyance of his unsubtle temptations. See you around, kid, he says one last time in a strangely flat and thin voice (somewhat different from the hollow, echoing tone he had while incorporeal). You realize his voice is getting much further away, and as he nears the corner, you realize the chance of hitting him at all anymore is pretty slim. Nos lowers his katana with a sigh and begins picking up the video games on the ground.

Something about his last words signals to you a deeper interest, some quirk of curiosity in his voice that maybe here is a much more fun game. You feel the growing certainty that this chaotic looter may become a recurring thorn in your side.

The police sirens scream louder now, only one street away.

Well, I don't mean to cut the scene short, but your chances *are* starting to get pretty slim, and I didn't want it to dwindle down into a boring "listen-shoot-likely miss" routine. Plus, he's been taking two moves to your one, since he's not attacking, so he is approaching the point of being out of range.

So yeah, uh...Nemesis, Kid Zeus. Kid Zeus, Nemesis. Have fun, kids. :)

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"Damn it!" Kid Zeus growled, his teeth grinding together as the energy aura around him picked up for a moment from emotion. Eventually it died down to almost nothing as he seemed to calm himself, rubbing his face through his half-mask. "Well, at least those games are probably fried. He's going to be in for a surprise when he tries to play them." he shrugged to Nos. "Come on, we better meet the cops out front and make a report about what happened." he said as he started walking back toward the store. "Then I can start figuring out how I'm going to catch that lowlife next time."

[harmonictempest]

Kid Zeus/Nos

Nos, having sheathed his katana, finishes putting the last of the games in a neat stack, perusing them in the dim light as he does so. Huh...good taste in games, at least. Flipping one over casually a few times as he walks toward Kid Zeus, he looks at the case. You know, the game might have been somewhat protected by the plastic bag and plastic case. Which is good news, really - the owner actually loses less that way, since we got the majority of them back, and it means the ones near your fireworks inside are probably still good, too.

Despite the escape of your quarry, he seems in a tolerably good mood. That was kinda awesome, with the stakeout and everything paying off. Too bad he got away, but it's pretty sweet having more of a challenge, too, especially since this guy just seems like a jerk, instead of a psychopath. Oh, which reminds me. I don't think he can do more than one trick at a time. I didn't see when he went invisible inside, 'cause I was looking the wrong way and he was behind one of the racks. But when I heard him go for the bag and dove for it, I knocked him on his rear pretty good. So at least he can't, or won't, do both at the same time. And either way, he can't get away from your bolts, huh? he finishes with his usual good-natured grin.

A few seconds later, the cops come into view and quickly pull up behind the store. Both cars open and a small handful of guns are immediately trained on you, though without much conviction, as you don't seem that threatening. One of the cops, a younger guy, breaks the pause to go into his best delivery of Okay, let's see your hands in the air, and no-- One of the older cops shushes him at that point, and calls across the small gap. You guys the supers who volunteered for the Ghost Bandit case?

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse glances at the arguing heroes, he looks at Reaper and raises a brow, "One minute... before we head back." He opens his cloak in case Reaper wants to ride along now, and then mounts his glider and drifts over to Gust and Riff, "What's the argument, you two?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

Hadyn put his hands up to show that he was no threat but didn't really expect them to start shooting or anything since he was registered. They'd probably seen him and Nos, too, down at the station a few times already. Guys in costumes were usually hard to miss. "Yes, Sir, that's us. We caught him trying to rob the video game store just back there. Unfortunately, he got away, but I think we saved most of the merchandise if that's any consolation." he grinned sheepishly, putting his hands down. "He's one of us. He calls himself 'Aether' and can turn himself invisible and phase through solid objects. I hit him a couple of times with lightning and he ran off invisible. I don't know where he went, but I can describe him to you some more if you like. He may have dropped something in his haste to get away, so we might want to look around a little more as well..."

When the police had seen fit to let them go, Hadyn had just flown home. He took a roundabout route the way he always did, stopping somewhere several blocks away where he'd left a spare backpack of civilian clothes in a dried up gutter with a loose covering to change. Then he'd snuck inside just in time to catch hell from his mother for skipping out of school early and forgetting to pick up his sister. Hopefully at some point she'd get tired of yelling and just let him sleep...

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper accepts Pulse's offered cloak, melding out of sight.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

Riff looks up ruefully at Gust, who is a few inches off the ground and wobbling violently. He's drawn his hood up in an almost comical fashion to hide his face, and appears extremely distraught. Leave....me...ALONE!! he sputters in a very odd voice. Riff mutters under his breath to you, touching a slightly bleeding nose. He's pretty wigged out about whatever happened - looked like some kind of acid attack to me. I'm trying to calm him down, but he's not goin' for it, and he's still got enough juice left after that beating to make him hard to deal with. I'd just leave him be, but...I think he might hurt himself or something.

It's not hard to see that Gust is having a full-fledged panic attack.


Kid Zeus/Nos

The quartet of policemen is thorough, efficient, and grateful for the assist. The older policemen, beginning to take your statement, recognizes you two with a smile just before you offer your names - your escapade with the spider is widely known by now. Two of the other officers begin the search inside, while he takes down a succinct summary of your stakeout, the description of Aether, and everything that happened, especially the abilities and limits Aether seemed to have. The two officers inside are not finished by the time your brief tale is told, but it doesn't sound like there will be much to find. The video games are left in police custody for the owner to assess the total amount of damages in the morning, and you can't help but recall Aether's insistence of how little it would matter to take one for yourself - he was clearly right as to how easy ii would have been, with all the attention focused on him.

Just before you head out, the older policeman remembers something. Going back to the car, he digs out a small scrap of paper from the glove compartment, and hands it to Kid Zeus. It turns out to be a small sealed envelope. The department, with the help of the mayor, is creating a black handle for each of the registered supers. It'll be our way to get in touch with you quickly if there's a situation that needs mutant help, and it takes the work of trying to create a secure contact off of you. With an apologetic shrug to Nos, he says Sorry, pal, we didn't know you'd be along - you can pick yours up at the station any time you like. Spread the word, too. With a proffered handshake, he says Thanks again. Just for the future, do you guys know the deadly force laws? No one's gonna come down hard on you when you were dealing with an unknown mutant, but word from on high is to not be the first big mutant lawsuit, so we're aiming to avoid that. Other than that, you guys played it pretty by the book.

And then you're off, flying home with the officer's last words warm in your ears. You guys pulled a man's share tonight. We're all glad to have you on the team.

Hadyn, as a police officer's son, presumably knows the deadly force laws. Feel free to correct me, but I'm pretty sure the gist of it is: Don't use deadly force unless deadly force has been displayed or used against you. Until that point, you use words, display of force, or nonlethal options to subdue the criminal. That's what caused the officer's concern - if all three of your shots had hit, you could easily have killed him outright, and the newspapers love to talk about police brutality.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Tasha woke to the sound of the door to her dorm opening. Sitting up with a grumbled noise, she looked groggily at her clock... and then, her roommate.

Oh.... hey. Sorry. Heather muttered, shutting the door as quietly as she could. I didn't mean to wake you up.

3 am? Tasha muttered, That's late for you. What's going on?

I was gonna... um... I was gonna stay out tonight, but... I wanted to make sure you were ok. Heather said, awkwardly, And to... um... apologise.

For what? Having a girlfriend? Tasha said, laying back again, I really don't have a problem with it, Heather. It's ok.

Yeah, I know. I just... I haven't even told my parents yet, you know? I didn't think you knew.

Maybe I'm just a mind reader. She said, deadpan.

Heather giggled, and played along with the (apparent) joke, And you never told me?! You're an awful friend, keeping secrets! Bad Tasha!

Hehe. Maybe my power is gay-dar!

They both laughed, though each for different reasons, as Heather got herself ready for bed... settling down in the cramped dorm room in her bed opposite Tasha's.

So it really doesn't...?

No. Tasha interrupted her. It really doesn't.

I was really worried. Heather said with a sigh of relief, I'm glad you're ok.

Sweetie, there is SOOO much more for me to worry about right now. Whether or not you like boys isn't really one of them. Don't worry. Tasha told her, curling up in a bundle of blankets, nice and snug.

Yeah. Good point. So, um... where's your boyfriend? Wasn't he coming by tonight?

He did. He left. He had stuff to do... and our room isn't really so private, you know?

That didn't stop my roomate last year. Heather said with a groan.

Kinky. She said snarkily, Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you. I just KNOW it would end up on the internet somehow.

They laughed again, this time, entirely on the same page... and Heather hit the lights, settling down on her bed for the night.

Hey, I was thinking. How'd you like to go out tomorrow... to the movies or for ice cream or something? Ice cream is good for head injuries, right?

Ice cream is good for everything. Tasha agreed with a chuckle, It sounds good. Maybe after class?

Sure! We can take my car.

Thanks Heather... I appreciate it. Tasha said with an earnest smile.

Don't mention it. And feel better, ok?

Yeah, I'll try. Goodnight Heather.

Nite! She said, rolling over and curling the blankets around herself.

And for the first time since the accident... she had very little trouble getting to sleep.

(End of day 3 for Tasha! GLEEEEE!)

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

The night was dark, the thin sliver of moon overshadowed by ominously lowhanging clouds.
They scuttled across the sky, reminding Draven of how swiftly things could change.

How swiftly they had.

The irony of his precarious perch and how, only a few short days ago, he had held a rather similar positon, did not evade him.
As he had been, it may have, for as much of a night owl as had been his habit, by three in the morning he would have been less than alert.

As he was now, he missed nothing.

His eyes locked on the shifting sky, his crouched form invisible in the shifting shadows, his body completely at ease although he had held the postion for over an hour, he felt more unnatural in that moment than in any moment prior.
A revelation both dehumanizing as it was coldly exhilirating.

Although he noted the sensation of motion beneath him, on the stairs, he remained perfectly still. The warmth of a young woman. Not just any woman though, he knew her.
Only a few months ago, in what seemed like another life, she'd been his math tutor.
She had been good. Safe. He knew he could trust her with Natasha. Small comfort that it was, he was glad for it.

He would leave before the light came, but for now, he concentrated on the darkness that was not dark at all for him, emptying his mind of concern, resting though fully awake.

He watched patiently and for a time, found peace.


(END)

So ends book 3. Signings at the door. Book 4 out in July, preorder your copy today!
Seriously though, it's been a lot of fun. Huge thanks to you all.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse whips out another device (actually just the shell of a flare gun with a tightly-coiled high test wire inside. He points it at Gust and fires, the wire whipping out to wrap around gust.

Rope Use: [roll0] - burn an action point to tie him up quickly (if allowed).

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper/Gust/Riff

The device either misfires slightly or needs some fine-tuning, because while Gust is wrapped up, it's little more than a loose coil of wire. The dextrous hero does not, however, notice this, and is far too worked up to wriggle out of it as easily as he might. Instead, he simply strains against the wire with all his might, and while his combat abilities are indubitable, his strength is pretty well below average. After a few attempts, he calms down slightly, and suddenly calms down all the way. Settling back to the ground with his usual control, he slips the wire over his head with no difficulty, and stands there for a moment diffidently. Overcoming his embarassment, his slides his dark hood back, revealing a face that is back to normal.

My apologies, he says, looking all three of you in the eyes with some effort. That panic was uncalled for - I seem to have grown used to these new abilities in just a few days, and being suddenly without them threw me into confusion. My thoughts have been different since the explosion, and this...changed them, somehow. Fortunately, it seems to have passed with no lasting effects, he says while experimentally flexing the joints of his arms and legs. Did you do something to make it go away?

[The_Snark]

Judy

It is well after midnight, and the lights are off in this part of Southport—save one. Someone (two someones?) paces restlessly across the floor.

Judy reaches the door for the hundredth time that night, turns around. For the last few days, she has done an excellent job of not thinking too much about how any of this was happening. Oh, she'd thought it would be interesting to help Nerros or Alex find out more about this chemical, but she'd conscientiously avoided thinking about it on a personal level.

Around the table. She pauses, stares at herself sitting down. Looking into her own eyes isn't as strange an experience as it otherwise might be—it's not that different from looking into a mirror. Well, two mirrors. The nausea she'd had whenever she'd thought about her doubled perspectives for the first couple days is gone, as is the visceral uneasiness she'd felt whenever she looked at herself. Or the other her, rather.

Bathroom door, turn around again. No, the physical uneasiness is gone. Looking at herself is natural, if a little irritating. She's never been ashamed of her body, but nor was she ever especially proud of it, and until a few days ago she'd been perfectly content with the way she'd thought of herself. Unfortunately, mental images were like celebrity photographs: all the flaws were removed or glosses over. It would be ridiculous to have self-esteem issues at her age, but frankly anyone's self-image would be dented a little by being forced to look at themself all the time. When you know something well, she tells herself, the flaws are more obvious.

Around the other side of the table this time, just for a change. She's doing it again, she realizes: she's avoiding thinking too hard about what's happened to her. Somehow, she had three bodies, all connected. Or there were three of her. If she had some kind of close telepathic bond with her identical triplets, would she even be able to tell? If you shared every memory, thought, and emotion with someone, were you a different person at all?

Front door again. How did that bond work, anyway? Judy has enough high school science left to remember that brain activity is made of of electric signals. Could she be passing those through the air and picking them up, like some sort of living radio system? It didn't seem likely; not when she could transmit sights and sounds with no time delay, across miles of obstacle-crowded city. Maybe it's something more like a radio, but she has a hunch that there would be problems with that too, if a scientist worked out the math. Maybe—

Thump. She hits her thigh on the table. The damn thing is too low to really be a dining table, and too high to be a coffee table. It serves as both, just like the room it's in serves as both living room and dining room.

Maybe she just needs to go to bed. One of her, at least, has managed to stop moving. Worry has kept her up this long, but she isn't about to reach a decision this late at night. I'm rambling. I need sleep. Who knows, maybe I'll be lucky enough to wake up tomorrow in an alleyway with nothing worse than a headache and an empty wallet...

Sleep is surprisingly fast in coming. One Judy sleeps on the bed, tossing restlessly; a second lies collapsed on a cheap sleeping pad in the living room, right next to an identical but empty pad. And elsewhere, a third sleeps deeper still, not even dreaming..

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shakes his head, "Not I... unless metal wire grounded out some kind of electrical disturbance... I just tried to tie you up."

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper, safe within his shadow realm, uses Hex's magical petal to communicate his thoughts to his two allies, <Perhaps the effect is simply a naturally temporary thing, that wears off on its own. My powers to induce fear does not last indefinitely. Or perhaps maintaining the power suppression requires constant effort from the spitting thug. Once he was sure we were gone, or when the strain became too much for him, he ceased to sustain it. Regardless, we should return to the police station posthaste for our debriefing.>

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse looks thoughtful, as if listening to something only he can hear. He nods, "Okay, we're going to talk to some people... you guys should probably avoid gangmembers, their haunts or even places you tend to hang out regularly... in costume anyway. Use the petals if you need to contact me or Reaper." He hops on his glider and heads back for debriefing.

You know, operating on my own rather than depending on someone else's intellegence (and by that I mean informational sources) would be better for me. I should have forseen that ambush.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

Gust shakes his head slowly experimentally, and seemed convinced he's back to his old self. Well, at least it doesn't last. I don't believe you have to worry about us - Riff was trying to take on a group of thugs too large for him when he got captured, and I saw it happen but didn't want to interfere before I could be sure to do it before they hurt him. I didn't get the chance, so I was making a distraction with that wall, which did work, after a fashion. Too bad none of us could predict that spitter. He seems faintly amused at Pulse telling him to be careful. Of course; will do. Ready to head out, Riff? The two of them lift off into the night sky with a whoosh and a thrum.

A moment later, 1337 crackles back in. Right, I proved it. The Suits were faking their email traffic. It was a bold move, since there really shouldn't have been any way to crack the traffic at all in the first place, which is why I didn't bother to check for further deception. I've added it to my list of vetting procedures, though, and I don't think I'll underestimate them again. Even before the explosion, it was a rare dude who could fool me more than once with a computer. Speaking of which, I found some new traffic from the lazy Neo-Mafia guy I've been tracking. Looks like the delivery has been pushed back to noon tomorrow, which is good news, 'cause I'm ready to go power down for the night, y'know? This one's legit, I'd stake my reputation on it. Anyway, did you guys need to go over anything specific or need anything from me, or do you want to save it for tomorrow? The police chief went home a few hours ago, and we don't have to turn in a report until tomorrow evening.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "Right, I'm turning in then. Anywhere I can drop you Reaper?"

No need to freak people out, telling them I don't sleep anymore.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper gives Pulse directions that will take him about a block from his apartment, shadow walking the rest of the way home. Once back within the relative safety of his apartment, he settles down and rest, thinking over the days happenings, from the meeting, to the church, to the assault with Pulse. It had been one heck of a day, and something told him tomorrow was going to be even worse.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse goes back to his place, taking all his normal precautions. Once home he'll turn up the heat, fix and eat a large meal and take some time to check his investment portfolio

[harmonictempest]

October 18, 2014 (Wednesday)

The Night
Yesterday’s clear weather had given over to clouds as evening moved in. Unseen in the darkness, they gathered in increasing thickness into the small hours of the night. In the darkest part of the night, when men’s spirits are at their lowest ebb, shortly before four in the morning, the cloud cover broke into an intense thunderstorm, which thinned over an hour into a mere drizzle. By the time the sun rises at 7:22 a.m., the last of the rain is already drying.

Sleep holds you tightly throughout the night, except perhaps in the few moments following the first riotous crash of thunder. Your dreams, however, are far from comforting, and even those who neither sleep nor dream any more find their aimless daydreams following a similar path. Beginning placidly and uneventfully, it begins with a peaceful sense of normalcy that is nearly pastoral: a mundane re-imagining of thoughts that have been on your mind, as most dreams are. Soon, though, a slimy tone of uneasiness begins to pervert them. What began normally becomes slowly twisted; the same shapes seem to, without changing their form, reflect darkness and screams from every facet, instead of the sunshine and smell of new-mown grass which they held but a moment ago. Escape or hiding seems now only a circular path that will bring you back to the center of the wrongness. As the dream progresses, the darkness reflected in every corner slowly reveals itself, wearing a face you could never have suspected. Your willpower, your love, your hate, even your newfound powers – every source of strength seems to have deserted you in the face of a foe that demands subservience, that desires only twisting and breaking and tearing and dark, hollow laughter. With the strange logic of dreams, you realize as if it were divine revelation that you have no escape, but wakefulness comes with bright fingers to pry you away before the final instant of doom, leaving only the only the echo of a dry, calm chuckle behind. It was, after all, only a nightmare.

My intent here is that you had a nightmare or bad daydream, without me specifically naming what happened or who was in it. You don’t have to write about it yourself, of course, but you’re welcome to put some details toward what happened in yours, if you like. Multiple characters have already shown that they have plenty to have nightmares about.

“There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, after one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself.” –Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

The Morning
Once the blinds have been thrown wide open and sleep has been rubbed from the eyes, the morning is clear and bright, much like any other. The birds singing in nearby trees seem blissfully unaware of the great changes being wrought on the world. For that matter, though, so do most of the people. There is only so much a human mind can take before it begins to ignore it – this is what causes shock, and it is what causes the average citizen of Rainport to be increasingly casual about the presence of mutants around them. By this fourth day of living with the fact, mutants flying overheard still cause turned heads, but ever fewer comments. That guy from the floor above you, with the purple skin, passes on a completely normal commute to work. By and large, people seem to be adjusting to the idea with little comment.

The news stations, however, are another matter entirely. While taking the development as in stride as anyone else, the news stations have yet to find a topic more likely to bring viewers. Every station is running a new feature on a different aspect of the warehouse explosion (which they’ve taken to calling the Big Bang) and its aftermath every hour. The tone is guardedly optimistic, as if the media can’t quite believe that the town hasn’t yet torn itself apart. All of you see some or all of the following news stories, at your own discretion. Seeing all of them probably meant you were watching TV for a couple hours straight this morning, though. (Even if I forget to mention it, all of these have some sort of video patter in the background – a headshot, a quick clip of the scene as viewed from the street, etc.)

The News
“The police department is offering crash courses in basic law enforcement regulations to lend credibility to the well-meaning efforts of costumed vigilantes across the city. This will make an extension of the registration program already underway. Legally, participating mutants will operate under an existing provision for deputization that has not been exercised in over a hundred years; after an intensive course in the powers, restrictions and procedures that regulate law enforcement activity, participants will be deputized into the police force on a limited basis whose powers include little more than what is already covered under citizen arrest powers. The intent of this program is not to recruit mutants as full-fledged police officers with only minimal training, as some have accused. Rather, it is intended to add safety, legal protection, and legitimacy to the law enforcement efforts of individuals that probably could not have been hindered in the first place.”

“The Rainport Center bank was robbed last night. The guards reported an unusually coordinated team of thieves who seemed to be able to change their appearance at will, which allowed them to infiltrate the bank, posing as guards. The vault was not especially full, and the bank has been quick to assure the public that their insurance is more than adequate to cover their losses. The team of mutants, calling themselves Legion, left this message spray-painted on an interior wall of the bank. (The video cuts from the reporter outside of the bank to a shot of drywall inside, which the reporter helpfully reads)

Message for bank:
Ha.

Message for customers with sentimental property stolen:
Oops, we tried to skip obviously sentimental stuff but if you have something
sentimental get it added to the police report and we'll get our hands on it
within a few weeks. Abusers of the system will be shot. Repeatedly.

Message for Cleanup Crew:
Sorry, for the mess.

Messages unrelated to the robbery:
Carbon-Arc lights are really bright and can also blind attackers. They can be made from household materials, I think there was a How-To article on this in Popular Mechanics back around 2004-08.
Because of the nature of and firepower involved in Superpower fights we the Villain and Hero communities should draft some
Rules Of Engagement if any heroes want to negotiate with us simply announce a time and location on TV or something and we'll try to be there.
Also it would be helpful if there was a truly anonymous way for us to negotiate without fighting off the cops every time someone considers a Heel-Face turn.
Also if anyone makes a TV / movie about mutants you will die a horrible death if you intentionally warp the theme so you don't have to pay us royalties. This is not included because I want TV producers to give me money it's included because being a bastard is the least excusable thing I can think of.

Signed,

Legion


“In other law enforcement news, reporters and law enforcement officials across the city have noted a surprising drop in crime rates, especially violent crime, in the last two days. Homicide rates especially have nearly bottomed out, which the police department is tentatively willing to acknowledge as the work of new vigilantes. They predict a slow rise in crime rates as lawbreakers become more familiar and comfortable with the new situation in Rainport.”

“In local government news, the mayor, with the cooperation of the governor and state legislature, is convening a think tank to assess the current situation in Rainport. It will serve as an advisory committee to state, and if necessary, federal, legislative bodies on any necessary alterations that will need to be made in law at all levels to appropriately recognize the new capabilities and possibilities of the human race. Sources in the city police department say that many there are holding their breath, already anticipating the first big lawsuit or criminal case specifically involving mutant issues. The committee will include prominent members of local government, community leaders, and one or two mutants who have proved their interest in aiding the city and mayor since the morning of the explosion. Their first act will be to hold an open forum on mutant issues at city hall this evening at 8pm in front of the building, after the usual style of town hall meetings, though on a larger scale.”

“The mayor has so far refused federal aid through FEMA, citing the relatively low amount of property damage that the city, as opposed to the criminal responsible, has had to foot the bill for, and the current relative stability of the situation.”

“Police departments and hospitals across the city, as well as the National Guard camp forming on the location of the old airport, have publicly declared their willingness to accept aid from mutants in dealing with specifically mutant situations, due to the common occurrence that mutants have more appropriate and safer tools to deal with another mutant than standard law enforcement has at their disposal. The National Guard is already beginning talks with the city planning board to devise a mutant holding facility on the outskirts of town – they report adequate capability to hold the mutant criminals they have already apprehended, but that a permanent facility will be necessary, given that standard facilities are often not sufficient, depending on a given mutants abilities.”

“The average citizen on the street seems to be surprisingly little impressed by these recent events. For many, life goes on as before, with Rainport’s newest crimefighters providing not much more than a slighter more noisy and colorful background. The reporter on the street walks through downtown with a microphone, and a short series of quotes from various pedestrians:
“Superheroes fight each other, man – they leave the innocent people on the sidewalk alone, y’know? Shoot, doesn’t bother me none if they go get in a scrap that winds up on the evenin’ news, as long as it’s not my block they go bustin’ up.”
“You kidding? It’s awesome, man – like living inside a TV show. Just wait, they’ll be coming out with the action figures and spinoff shows as soon as Hollywood gets a hold of a few of these guys.”
“Well, I guess it’s exciting to live in a historic time like this, but after a few days it’s hard to get…excited, if you know what I mean. All the important things are happening just a street or two away, but to someone else. It’s like an old book I read about a reporter who lived in an age of superheroes. You just wind up feeling like an ant – unimportant next to the new super-beings.”

“Around the city, several of the new mutants are attempting to find their place, not as a costumed ‘superhero’, but simply through business as usual. Some of those affected by the explosion either did not have powers obviously suited to crimefighting, or just weren’t affected enough to have as wide a variety of powers. A dock worker who has developed the ability to see nearly a hundred yards through solid objects is now working as an exterminator, slashing the time needed to precisely locate the infestation to almost nil. After some precautionary measures, a woman who became able to cause unconsciousness with a touch is going through a trial run as an anesthesiologist at St. Paul’s. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg: there’s a car mechanic who doesn’t use tools any more, a deep sea salvage diver who doesn’t need a suit, a dog catcher with a special touch, and a nurse who’s making the trauma unit at St. Paul’s a much more survivable place. Perhaps most flamboyantly, one of the oddest new mutants has plans well underway to build a bar purely for mutants. These people and more are using their powers, not to fashion secret identities and fly through the air above Rainport, but openly and in their daily lives.” (In the background, a montage shows one or two of the people mentioned: a man blinks once and opens his eyes much wider than should be possible while his ears and mouth fold themselves shut, another man fends off a dog that’s leaping for his throat and has it sitting obediently a moment later, and so forth.)

“In celebrity news, Johnnie Ringwald, Jr., son of Charles Ringwald, CEO of multibillion-dollar contracting firm Ringwald & Royce, is moving to Rainport. Declaring that Hollywood isn’t nearly as much fun as Rainport has become, he’s moved into the largest penthouse in the north end of the city.”

“Researchers at St. Paul’s, while still warning that definitive answers will take at least a week, are returning some initial findings, if not to the chemical cause of these biological changes, then at least to their effects. Traces of the chemical have proven impossible to find, as it integrates into the body with such speed that traces of it simply do not exist. Examining the biological enhancements that it has been capable of adding onto a human body will keep biologists busy for decades, at least. The most interesting finding, reported first by staff psychologists, is that with surprising consistency, powers or changes experienced by one of the victims reflect either some deep-seated inner desire, or subconscious self-image. The rest of the research team did not comment on this, except to say that it was at least plausible.”

Similar fare can be found on most news stations, websites, and radio stations. Websites specifically tracking mutant news, sightings, and rosters of public known “heroes” and “villains” are only a Google search away.

The Players
Reaper

Around 8am, you receive a text message on your government-issued phone, asking you to come out to the Army base at the airport at some point today.

Gulerod

The first move is yours.

Tasha

I have nothing in particular for you. You would have an email from Dark asking why you haven’t gotten back to him, but you were very careful not to give him your contact info. ;-) You may continue to interact with him and do your Crow thing if you wish – I’m NPCing him. A minimal amount of investigation will find that the apartment explosion has not yet been entirely cleaned up, but is progressing rapidly and will no doubt be done before too long.

Jack

When you leave your house in the morning, you pass what must be the accident the officer dashed out last night to investigate: two cars sit on a street corner, encircled by caution tape and apparently moved there out of the way of traffic. A hole in the sidewalk where there should be a street lamp gives silent testimony to the destruction the accident must have caused. The two cars are wrapped around each other in almost artistic fashion. You can see where one must have run into the other from behind, but it was clearly no normal accident. The cars appear flattened and crushed, but far too smoothly, and the drivers’ seats are perfectly spared.

Oblivion

The Files
The files Jen gave you are thin, and clearly stripped of identifying personal information – she’s not willing bend the rules that far.
The first file is on a rash of odd illnesses in the mutant wing. Every morning, one or two of the patients fail to wake up. They are found in a semi-responsive state not dissimilar to a coma, and usually have begun recovering by midday. Their reactions and vitals slowly but steadily improve until they are back to normal, which seems to be taking one or two days for each patient. The doctors have been able to find no consistent link between who comes down with this illness and who does not.
The second file contains details on a young man who was covered in purple and black boils when they first brought him in. He remains stable but not very responsive, seemingly in a state of shock. Every time he falls asleep, he wakes up screaming in a cold sweat several hours later, looking like a completely normal, completely different person. So far, no one has recognized or seen any resemblance to someone they know in the features he assumes.
An entire room has been devoted to an older woman who divides by what the doctors can only call mitosis, every 24 hours. She melts into a shapeless lump, which then splits in half and slowly reforms into two half-size versions of her. Starting at about three feet tall, each new version has grown exceedingly rapidly back towards full size. There are now eight of her, in varying sizes of midget, and they have taken to fighting amongst themselves. They are currently on sedation, after two of them were killed in the last fight. While coherent, it’s nearly impossible to talk to them without them contradicting each other and shouting each other down.
Also being kept in a separate room for his own safety is a man who projects a small spherical force field whenever he gets too excited, frightened, or angry. Staff psychologists have been making good progress with him, teaching him meditative techniques to avoid further slipups – he refused sedatives, which could not be forcibly prescribed, given the unique situation. Still, he’s destroyed two beds and carved several divots in the floor, since the force field appears to cut through nearly anything when it forms.

Pulse

Your portfolio is doing reasonably well. Living in the city (whose news is still driving the market, understandably enough) has allowed you to keep a finger on its pulse pretty effectively, anticipating the rises and falls in consumer expectation, and you’re riding the bow wave of these events with aplomb. Overall the market is slowly climbing back out of the huge fall it took Monday morning, as people slowly begin to decide that the end of the world may not be imminent.
You have a short message from Kellie Kellogg come in around 8:15 a.m. “Hey there, Inspector Gadget. Been seeing you on the news – any chance I could get that exclusive interview one of these days?”

Kid Zeus

In your inbox when you awake is an invitation to an impromptu class party that evening, being held at Shaun Jacob’s house. Despite the surprise of actually being invited to a party Shaun Jacobs is holding, it’s really not surprising that that arrogant jerk would throw a party and invite the whole class, just to remind them how rich his parents are.
There is also a memo at the address of the new black handle you received last night. It’s essentially a regurgitation of the news story about deputization above, with a line inserted above from one of the officers, personally encouraging you to take part. Probably one of the guys from last night.

Judy

Mixed in with your other dreams are flashes of a more compelling nightmare. Two or three times, you have flickers of images that could have been dreams, but are more recognizable as that odd and unique feeling of only one of your bodies waking up. Woozy and incoherent, you receive only a vague series of impressions. There are bright lights shining down on you from a few feet overhead, and you’re lying on something hard, but the vision fades away before you can grasp anything else. Several dreams later, it comes back. This time, there are shadowy figures standing over you, impossible to make out as more than silhouettes against the lights, talking in low voices. Spasmodically you attempt to sit up, producing only a feeble twitch in you limbs. It is noticed, and the shadowy figures turn their attention to you before moving out of your sight. You strain all the while to catch their words, but hear only “…increase to twenty-three or whatever will keep her…” a few moments before darkness sets in again. With your last glance, though, you finally clear the bleariness from your eyes just long enough to get a good look at the largest machine next to you, a stainless steel affair with far too many tubes and display screens of incomprehensible data. Just as the curtain of sleep falls back over you, you see the logo on the side: “Crompect Health Systems”, and under it in very small letters “recombinatorial analyzer”.
((Stupid nat 20’s on Spot checks, making me show my hand early. :P ))

Lore

If you have not already heard on the news by the end of breakfast that your bank (Rainport Central) has been robbed, you are made aware of it by the call from your manager telling you to be there in twenty minutes or else.
On the way in, you get a text message from your dealer, wanting to know how this affects the assets you’ve been managing for them.

Nos

Bidding is up to $354 on the spider fang on eBay.

Perspicacia

You have a memo in your inbox from your superior at the police department. They want you on the bank robbery case, as soon as you can get over there.

Alex

You have several emails, one from city hall and one from Marcus Salter. I suspect you’re gone for good, though, so I’ll bother with them if and when you come back.


Spotlight on:
Internal FBI memo #38755
Subject: New assignment

Agent *******, in light of recent developments for both you and your assignment location, the parameters of your assignment are being altered. You will investigate and evaluate the efficacy of the new mutates in combat, social, and legal situations for the purpose of determining possible negative impact on society, should they begin leaving Rainport in significant numbers. Keep in mind your last memo at this point – you know the consequences. You may use any means at your disposal, but you are being upgraded to Black/Dark status. Should legal recourse become necessary, you will be on your own, and the FBI will deny all knowledge of your activities, and if feasible, even your employment by the agency. Report using this encryption protocol at 12-hour intervals. New project codename: Project Impact.

Somewhere in Rainport, a pair of eyes scans the screen one more time, committing the lines to memory, then deletes the memo.

((I think Spotlight On may become a regular feature, my way of giving you a glimpse into something interesting that doesn't happen to be in any of the players' field of vision at the moment. It also happens to be a reminder that I have a very active number of plot lines moving about behind the scenes.))

[MountainKing]

Jack

Jack rolled into a sitting position, wincing at the light filtering through the blinds and grumbling. He was soaked in cold sweat, and found a nagging sense of paranoia seeping into his barely awake thoughts.

Focus. Gotta focus. Gotta stay calm. Go smoke.

Jack stepped out onto his balcony after donning his mirrored shades, gripping a cigarette bat in his teeth as he lit his morning smoke; morning smoke. Urgh... it's too damn early for this... Jack looked down and saw the remains of a car accident. It struck him as odd that it was still there; they'd had all evening and night to get rid of it. City's run by a buncha slackers... Jack thought as he frowned at the scene, unwilling to even subconsciously recognize the irony of his statement.

Stupid dream... what the Hell, I mean, really? And you, brain, couldn't you have thought that one up closer to noon? Honestly... buncha bull****...

Jack rubbed his eyes under the shades; he could feel the spots under them that were beginning to feel a little sunken. Sure, he was getting the sleep he needed, but... did it feel *good*? No. It didn't even feel suitable. Still muttering and thinking, Jack continued to stand and smoke, debating between finishing Atlas Shrugged and going back to bed.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

Blackness....

Not the empty dark that eddies and flows into the world as shadows, defined only by absence, but a palpable substance, willfully obscuring all senses. As thick as mud, it clings to the eyes, clogs the ears, fills the throat so that no shout or cry could ever hope to pass it....

A sound. A clatter and crash, the ring of blade on blade. The sound expands to fill the black, taking on an almost musical quality. It rises and falls, echoing in the darkness, accompaniment to a deadly dance.

A sight. Two figures in the shadows. One is a man with black hair and pale skin. His eyes are green, and they seem almost to glow, as if touched by an unseen light. In each hand he holds a long, thin knife, and as he lashes out at his opponent his motions are light and joyful, as though there could be no greater pleasure than seeing his foe's blood spill forth, dark red stains nearly invisible in the dark. The other seems to be shadow given substance, as though a twisted fairy had come and made the black a real boy. Instead of fingers, his hands were adorned with razor-sharp claws, which moved before him in a blur to hold back the twin knives of the pale man. His eyes were red and glowed like fiery coals, and it was by the light of eyes alone, red and green, that the two men did battle.

The pale man laughs as his blade comes within a razor's edge of the shadow's face, barely deflected in time. "You're cracking up," he jeers, daggers whirling into another attack. "You've lost your edge. You've gone soft. Fighting like that won't hold me off for long." Both knives cut down together, driving the shadow onto one knee.

He rolls away, back on his feet and ready to repel the next assault. He snarls, "I know every trick you've got, and I've a few you can't hope to match. You're playing out of your league, monster." He vanishes into the black, before appearing suddenly behind the pale man, claws flying. Knives rise to meet claws, but no taunts come to the lips of the pale man as he fights, no longer for pleasure, but for survival.

A clatter, then silence. The pale man sits upon the ground, his blades beside him. The shadow stands over him, claws raised for the final blow. Seconds tick past. Green eyes meet red, and a grin spreads across the pale man's face. "You can't do it, can you?" he asks, his voice oozing with condescension and scorn. "In one night, your claws claimed forty two innocent lives, as many as I killed in a year. You know who the real monster is. My list of victims is fixed, while yours grows ever longer. Shall I be number four hundred and seventy three?"

The shadow does not answer. After a few seconds, though, his claws sink down, away from the pale man's throat, to hang limply by his sides. The pale man's grin widens. He rises up on one knee, slowly standing. Suddenly his hand lashes out, lifting the dagger up from the ground to sink it into the shadow's chest. He sinks to the ground, blood gurgling in his throat. The pale man pulls the knife out of his victim's chest, wiping it calmly on his shirt. As the shadow's red eyes begin to close, he bends over, and whispers, "No."

"You will."

With a start, the Reaper rises from his reverie, claws raised. After a few seconds, he realized it was just another waking dream, and lets his guard fall. Waking from a nightmare without breathing heavily (or at all, really) was still an odd sensation, but unfortunately, it was quickly becoming quite familiar.

Standing with a sigh, he noticed that he had received a new text message on his government phone, telling him to report to the Army base sometime that day. Probably his first government assignment. Shaking his head to clear away the last fog of his daydreaming, he flipped on the television, checking for any recent news developments. Police training, a bank robbery, and a mutant issues forum that evening. Another busy day. The police training could be useful, and would probably take less time than whatever government assignment he had waiting for him at the army base, so he dug out the umbrella he had brought back from the meeting yesterday and set off down the street in the direction of the police station.


Current plan for Day 4 is Police Training in the morning, Army Base in the afternoon, Mutant Forum in the evening, and the night for resting. Feel free to throw whatever random encounters you want in the mix, HT. The Reaper is back!

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

For information gathering purposes... all I need to know is what time the good detective I'm looking for will be home. The one who knows everything about the explosion that the cops know? I need to make sure I can catch him at home. I'm pretty sure I plucked said info from the other cop, but I don't recall... t'was a long time ago.

Tasha wandered along the streets casually... trailing her target through the busy crowd. She wove her way past people, out and about in the city... unnoticed by all but the occasional man checking her out as she passed. Everything calm... everything normal.

She was close enough now. With a moment's focus, she settled into his mind. His secrets were hers now. She plunged through the familiar rush of thought and emotion... the jumbled mess of urges and feelings that made up people's minds. As she tried to pull herself deeper... and sift through the repressed memories she knew he had... something stopped. It was wrong. He blocked her, somehow. Instead of a rush of thought and sensation... she felt nothing but anger and blame... directed at her.

The real world rushed back to her as she withdrew, and to her horror... her victim was staring at her, angrily. In fact... the mass of people around her had grown... eerily silent. They all stared at her now... in anger... and hate.

What are you doing? Someone asked her.

I... um... I didn't... She stammered, attempting to move away, only to find herself encircled by the crowd.

She was trying to do something to his head! An older woman said in shock, She's a mutant!

No! I was...

Mutant? Another voice rung out, She's a mutant? You think you can just go around screwing with people's minds like that?

But I didn't... She tried to protest, in vain.

Get the mutant! Someone screamed over a din of enraged voices.

No! She yelled, No! Stay away from me!

She lashed out with her powers, to no avail... as the mob of angry people moved towards her. She tried to fight, but it hardly mattered. The mass of dark, imposing shapes swarmed over her, and reached out for her as she screamed...

------------------

AAAAAHHHHHH! She screamed, waking with a start. Her clothes were soaked in sweat and she couldn't seem to stop shaking.

Tasha?! What's wrong? Heather said groggily, woken by her scream.

She looked around in a panic. No one was here... nothing was around. It was a dream. She took a second to collect herself and catch her breath.

I'm... I-I'm ok. Just a nightmare. She said a bit raggedly.

Oh... honey. Are you alright?

Yeah... I'm ok. She muttered, more to herself than anything else.

It would be a remarkably sleepless night....

[zerombr]

Lore

Muaha ha ha ha! MUA HA HA HA!!!!!
"Yes that's right, once again it's Bill and Robert's bigtime villian voice giveaway, where you can win any multitude of free tickets to see Shine Down when they come to...

<click>

A weary, gaunt looking man removed his middle finger from the alarm-shutoff button, perhaps as a gesture to the rude awakening he had from what should've been a restful night's sleep. As he sat up in bed, he fumbled for his rounded glasses, as he rubbed his eyes. There was always such bright light in the morning, like a laser beam drilling into his skull. Perhaps it was his fault for not buying heavier curtains, but things of the more decorative nature were rarely considered by the bachelor. He made a note to go out today to buy new drapes or something to cover that window.
A new day...
He looked at himself in the mirror as he prepared for another mundane day at a thankless job, or so he had convinced himself. There was something comforting about a job that issued no responsibility, and demanded little, but it definitely lacked a deal of enthusiasm, which was the perfect way to describe Simon Tremble. A thin man probably in his thirties, his hair already well on the way to going gray. He caught notice of himself in the mirror, snapping himself out of the dull haze that was his morning, his routine just before the voice mail picked up.
But the world is so much more exciting now, isn't it?
<<This is Tremble, leave a message>>
<<Tremble, I need you down here immediately, there was a robbery at the branch last night, I need evaluations of all the accounts compromised, there's going to be a full scale investigation, since Whatley and Jester went...BEEP>>
Whatley and Jester went missing, yes I know....
He paused as he slipped on the work tie over his white collared shirt. A robbery had occured at his branch. Amateurish attempt to collect finances, it was always so much easier to shift funds here and there. He had done it for years, as unwilling as he had been to cooperate with the goons who had taken over his life, there were a few perks to it.
I'd have done it in the daylight, just to see the look on their faces..
The second drawer of his bathroom counter held the prize he had sought, a small clear bottle, no bigger than a liquid soap container. Its contents were clear, mistakable for water no doubt until drunk. He coveted the small tonic for a few moments, then slipped it into his pocket as he prepared for work.

How had it come to this life?

Day 0

Simon blew into his hands as he waited inside a smaller abandoned club called Notions. He had acquired it a few months ago as a shrewd investment opprotunity, or so he believed. Looking over the gutted insides, he took a moment to assess the place, wondering if he'd ever get his investment back from it. At least it was a worthwhile meeting spot, for his less than loved compatriots.

"Su-i-mon....man, we've been waiting..." A voice called out from the next room, as a few shadowy figures emerged. The mere mispronounciation of his name irritated him, let alone the grandiose way in which he spoke, still he was dependable.

"Yes well, I just managed to get here...traffic." Simon replied meekly, shoving the club keys into his pocket. "I uh...trust you found your way in well enough?" He averted his gaze from the mobsters, they always had ways of getting into anywhere they wanted, silly things like keys were afterthoughts.

The light from passer-by cars flooded the club floor for a few moments, illuminating his contact's face. The trio all were well dressed, in stylish suits of varying color, the main wiseguy idly rolled a knife around in his hand, a tick simply, but a threatening one nonetheless. "Hey...No complaints. So let's get to it, you're doin good work for us, so you get your reward, I spose." The man on the right opens up his suitcase, containing several unmarked containers.

Simon, instinctively, lurches forward an inch, his eyes glued to the prize he has sought. "Hey not so fast now, old man..." He gestures to the case, "Give him two for now..." "Two? But Nick, it's a weeks' worth I get, that's the deal!" Impotent rage filled the mild banker's body, his hands clenched, yet unwilling to take action. "Two..." Nick repeated himself, "We got a big job coming through this week, when it gets split up all nice and neat, then you get a week's more afterward."

He barely had a moment to ponder a week's worth of elixer when the glass behind him shattered, the concussive force knocking him to the ground.

[Wiz]

Harold Smith comes alert from his mental fugue state, startled by the images he experienced.

Well, perhaps I still will dream from time to time... that should banish my fears about becoming paranoid through lack of REM sleep.

He scans quickly through news on the television and internet, accessing his computer remotely while fixing a large breakfast. Sitting down to eat, he ponders what he is absorbing.

All right... they wish to offer police training, but this is a thinly disguised ploy. They've already offered the opportunity to act as lawful vigillantes by registering. Someone in charge has realized this gives us mutates a much wider range of options than police officers, so now they offer training which will effectively limit our authority back to that of the common citizen. Someone is making moves to keep the superhero contingent in check. I have already registered as requested, I have no intention of giving them further opportunities to analyze my abilities or limit my effectiveness.

He finishes his first helping of breakfast and begins on his second.

They are establishing a think tank to consider the mutate problem. This think tank will include a few mutates who have been cooperative with the police. I have scarcely a way to measure accurately my intelligence, but I think it is markedly superior to most that I have encountered, and yet here in the email the police have for me there is no request for me to join said think tank. Since they are not selecting one of the more intelligent and cooperative heroes, it is obvious that the think tank is going to be loaded with political appointees and individuals who will not actually rock the boat or think excessively. Again, merely another ploy to make it seem as if something is being done. I must congratulate the spin-doctoring that is going on here.

Finishing his third helping of breakfast, Harold Smith gets up and goes to the mirror.

As I thought from last night, when I removed my makeup... I seem to be looking younger than I had previously. If the plasticity afforded to me by the magnetized elements in my cellular membranes, that has increased my healing factor is also adding longevity to my physical structure, I may become much younger in appearance. This is going to be difficult, as Pulse I can hide the changes, as Harold Smith, I cannot... I may have to establish some kind of alternate identity. Unless I can figure a way to magnetically manipulate my cellular structure myself on a concious basis... then I could actually alter my physical appearance through concentration.

The last image he remembered from his fugue state comes back to him as he looks at himself in the mirror. The face of his tormentor... controller... it was his own face.

Illogical, it was merely a dream.

He turns and looks over his email, noting the message from Kellie Kellogg.

I should answer her. I wonder if she can put a prod in for me.

He sends a message to Kellie Kellogg telling her that he will set a time and date for the interview this evening by 10:00 PM. He points out that he has not been asked to join the think tank, but he is interested in following their first actions and finding out which mutates have been put on this group. He also adds his speculations about the new training being a way to limit the heroes rather than expand their activities, and leaves it to her to decide if she feels it is an idea worth following up.

Once he is finished, he will get ready to move out on patrol. He takes his usual precautions leaving his domicile before he becomes airborne. Once aloft, he takes a slow, spiral patrol pattern over the city, centering on police headquarters where he is going for his debriefing from the night before.

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

Gulerod wakes up from his stupor. It is still dark outside, but the tavern closed and dumped him on the sidewalk.

Oh. Oh god. Apparently, being able to go without sleep does not mean I'm immune to passing out from drinking. Bummer. Ouch. My head, my pretty little head, who put all these bombs into you? I swear I'll never drink again.

Just like the last time, and the time before that, and... Wait. What's that, I actually dreamt while being passed out? I was wrestling, and wrestling, and wrestling, and the harder I tried to win, the more people came and wrestled me down, down to my knees, forcing me with all my might to give up and crash down... Then, they made me watch. They dug through the deepest recesses of my mind, showed me how my parents were happy when I was born, at first, but as soon as it was apparent that I was handicapped, they grew more and more solemn, morbid, until the point that they... No.

The midget shakes his head. What they did to themselves was their choice, their fate. It just wasn't fair that their choice made me suffer more than I already did. It was plain out cruel that I should be the one to find them.

He straightens up, sobering up fast. Today is a day of new chances. What had I heard on the TV in the bar? A mutant forum tonight, and police training? God, my head. Let's see, where is the closest place I can catch the news...

Waddling away, he does not notice that the lanternpost he used to lean against now is no longer lit, a kink about three and a half feet above ground making it bent and broken.

[zerombr]

Lore Day 4

Simon entered his small half-kitchen, grabbed a singular muffin from an open pack, then took the stairs down to the city streets, awaiting the car service that was bound to arrive.

He wasn't a very good driver, having had two minor wrecks within a month before deciding to put down a stipend on the bank's driver service. Middle management did have a few perks at least, he digressed. He wordlessly entered the vehicle, absently pondering the previous days events.



Day 1
<<through the desert on a horse with no name, it felt good to get out of the rain, in the desert>>

<<Click>>

A weary, gaunt looking man removed his hand from the alarm-shutoff button, from what should've been a restful night's sleep. As he sat up in bed, he fumbled for his rounded glasses, as he rubbed his eyes as he had done a thousand times before. There was always such bright light in the morning, like a laser beam drilling into his skull. Perhaps it was his fault for not buying heavier curtains, but it was never really his intention. He made a note to go out today to buy new drapes or something to cover that window.
Another new day it is...My first day awake in a very long time
He had been up the previous night for less scrupulous affairs of men and their masters, when something happened. Simon sat up with a jerk, then as an afterthought surveyed himself for damage. His mind ablank as to how he arrived home. As he examined his living quarters, there was very little sign of disturbance, let alone trespass.
I'm sure nothing is amiss
The door to his reading room was open however. It was roughly the same size as his bedroom, it was intended to be a spare room for company, but since houseguests hadn't been present since..., well, ever, it got converted. The room itself had been altered...books he had bought, on a rueful lark in his younger days had been opened. A portrait of renowned inventor Nikolai Tesla was moved into a more predominant spot.
The master himself
It was an idle fancy at first, the collection of things unique, plans by mad alchemists during the Crusades, photocopy sketches of DaVinci's contraptions. Years ago, he had wanted to be....someone, someone to change the world, before life crushed him beneath its grim heel. He found himself focused on the portrait, unconsciously taking his customary seat as his attention remained there. The man was a legend, really, his work with electricty of all kinds, as well as being an enigma among all.
Remember....
And he did....For the first time in years upon years, he had woken up. He stood up, to his full height, a smile playing at his lips as he regarded the picture further. "Ahhhhh, yes. It's all so clear to me, what a fool one can be, when you lose your inspiration." He picked up the picture, setting it aside a stack of books. "Alchemy, Tesla, and the Protogenoi...all concepts are one. And it was you..." He gestured to the room, to the symbols he had scribbled upon pages. "You had granted me this great strength, the strength of GODS. And I intend to take great liberties with strength....I am no Failure, I have yet to show all the world what I can offer!!!!"

[Maltore]

Caz

"¡Venga, Cazha, venga! ¡Vamos a ver la fuente!"

"¡Ya voy!"

Caz ran down the path to catch up with her parents. She had been going from rosebush to rosebush, finding that yellow roses indeed smell different from red ones, or white ones, or pink ones. Her favorites were the ones with petals that started nearly pink and grew dark, vibrant orange towards the tips.

"¿Papi, por qué no hay rosas azul?"

"No lo sé, mariquita. Perhaps there are blue roses after all, but they are so pretty that the angels keep them all to themselves. Maybe that's why the sky is blue. Who knows?"

Plácido Oruga smiled conspiratorially at his daughter, and she understood that they would delve into the encyclopaedias in the library later today or tomorrow. The magnificent fountain, their destination, drew closer, and Caz darted ahead to marvel at the white cherubic statues that gazed adulatorily at the centerpiece.

The young artist had wanted to infuse a deeper meaning into the commemorable fountain by choosing playful cartoonesque versions of endangered species rather than the traditional human angels. There was a little hippo with a lyre, a bengal tiger blowing a horn, a chubby crocodile holding a scroll, and an elephant showering the passers-by.

The water of the large octangular fountain was clear and home to a variety of genetically modified Koi, some were fuchsia with purple stripes, others cobalt blue with yellow leopard spots. Inquisitively, Caz climbed the fountain's periphery and stretched out her hand to pet the fish, which, used to being fed by the visitors, approached eagerly.

"They're lovely, aren't they?"

Caz looked up to see where the voice had come from and was met by the benignly smiling face of the little crocodile statue, that had leaned in closer to speak to her.

"You'd better watch out though, they like to bite sometimes."

Startled, Caz looked back at the previously friendly Koi, only to find them slowly transforming into tiny monsters that looked like they had just jumped off a painting by Hieronymus Bosch, coming ever closer and attempting to climb out of the fountain.

"Uh-oh. Better start running, little girl!"

"¡Papi!"

She turned around looking for her parents, at long last spotting them a good twenty paces away, apparently on their way back to the entrance.

"I really think you should start running now."

The crocodile's mellow words were immediately followed by the thud of the first monster's squat body dropping to the floor right next to Caz. And so she took to her heels.

"¡Papi! ¡Mami! ¡Espera!"

"I am rather afraid you might not make it, tender one."

She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, but even though her parents were strolling along at a sluggish pace, she seemed to fall further and further behind, and no matter how hard she cried, they didn't seem to hear her. Eventually, they were so far ahead of Caz that she could barely see them any more, and at that point she tripped. Or rather, she was tripped, by the bright pink tentacle that had wrapped itself around her ankle.

"There! You see? I hate to say I told you so."

"¡Papi! ¡Ayúdame!"

*****

Caz was sitting in her rocking chair, staring pensively out the window. In her lap lay her diary, opened on an empty page, as it had been lying for the better part of the last hour, and many hours in the past three days.

"I shouldn't have kept postponing this," she chided herself for the umpteenth time that night, "I wouldn't be suffering from nightmares if I'd allowed myself to sit down and focus on what's happened to me. Writing will help me to get my thoughts organized."

Mechanically, her hand found the plate with olives and cheese that was lying next to her on the windowsill. Perspicacia Maria Oruga had never been one for sweets.

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

Slowly regaining his regular walk, Gulerod trudges through the waking city, eventually halting at a television shop where the news is being displayed.

He watches intently, only to find that either the windows completely block the sound, or the sound has been muted. Inconvenienced by his inability to actually follow what is being said, he trudges onward, this time searching for a pub, a night shop or anything else that is open and has a television with sound.

Finally halting at what seems to be an all-night sandwich bar, he goes in, ignores whoever is in there and tries to find a table with a view on the TV. When it is apparent that all the chairs are regularly sized, and the tables would hamper his ability to follow the news, he sits down squarely in the middle of the bar, displaying an attitude of disdain towards the offending furniture.

So, I remembered correctly. Maybe I should go and get some of that law-enforcement training, sounds like fun. Wonder if I get to beat something up.
Why didn't they invite me for that think tank? Have to get back to the mayor on that one. I should be in it. If need be, I can always press the "I have a unique view to offer and if you don't take me it'll be discrimination" thing.
Ooh, Legion sounds funny. Wonder if he stole the things because he wanted to make a point, or did he actually want the cash and decided to make a point out of it. Regardless, he looks like someone I'd enjoy having a friendly brawl with. Publicly announcing where a showdown is going to be does sound like a bad idea, though - Not only could you attract innocent viewers, some other twit might decide to "come to your rescue". I swear, if I meet a "Super" wearing spandex coming to my rescue, he'll get the biggest atomic wedgie of all time. He grins at the thought of a Superstrength Wedgie.

Gulerod watches the rest of the news all through the night, occassionally ordering something to drink out of politeness, and then letting it stand on the table untouched, or giving it to another customer if they seem interested.

[harmonictempest]

Jack

Yea, verily. Carry on. :-)


Reaper

You arrive at the police station without incident. Your shadowy figure causes more alarm and leaves you plenty of space on the sidewalk, but most people seem at least prepared to believe the oft-repeated story that you’ve had a change of heart and are now working for the mayor, and you see little or no open fear.

The secretary at the front desk is more than happy to sign you up for one of the classes. Pulling out your file from your first registration and skimming through, she finds that your title and powers need no updating, puts a check mark next to your name, and begins skimming through a few sheets of paperwork with you, mostly legal forms that you’ll go over in more detail during the class itself. We have two sessions today; the first runs from 10-2, and the second from 3-7. We’ll be doing the same tomorrow, and after that, we’ll schedule them ad hoc based on interest. It’s going to mostly be an information session, followed by a short certification test to make sure you’ve absorbed the materials. Mutants with heightened mental abilities or similar powers that might make the class tedious for them are permitted to read through the equivalent literature and take the test without being required to sit through the class. Shall I sign you up for the first or the second class? Do you have any questions right now about the class or anything else related to it?


Tasha

((Excellent nightmare! To answer both your OoC questions: Yes, it should be character level # of hps per day, and the information you have on the subject is “Jimmy Frendock probably knows what they're doing with the samples they're digging out of the rubble.” Cheers!))


Lore

Despite the raucous Middle-Eastern music playing from the vehicle, the car service is timely and makes its way through morning traffic with ease. On the way, you get a text from your dealer: You better lemme know how bad our dough got hit as soon as you know, man. The bank does not form as exciting a scene as you might have imagined – there are a pair of cops cars in front of the building, and a cop by the front door, but otherwise little out of the ordinary. You can see the cop preparing to block your way as you approach the door, but just before you get to him, your manager comes bustling out, grabs your arm, and drags you inside. A short, balding man with too much energy and not enough patience, he drags you past the rubble in the lobby, the chalk rings on the floor, the officers with notepads, the giant message on the wall, and the hole next to it before sitting you forcefully down in his office and closing the door. All business, he gets right down to brass tacks. Simon, this is important, so I’m hoping you can help me. The thieves pulled a few cables on their way out, and we won’t have the computer system up again for another hour or two, but we need to get something in the news before mid-morning. It looks like they hit almost only the cash reserves in the secondary vault. They didn’t take nearly all of it, but we’re not sure how much they got. You were running the numbers on our gold star accounts before you left yesterday, right? Do you remember what the numbers on the secondary vault looked like?

Gold star accounts are for bigger customers, and come with a guarantee of a certain percentage of their account’s balance being directly backed up by cash. Running the numbers on these accounts means you would have had to check the balances of cash held in the primary and secondary vaults, to make certain that those guarantees are being upheld. You’re welcome to have Lore remember as well or as poorly as you like – whether or not Lore remembers well, there was about 1.6 million in cash in that vault at close of business hours yesterday.

The account you manage for the gang was not a gold star account, but had been kept as a simple savings account (because they distrusted the idea of stocks or bonds). They sprang for having no minimum balance to keep the account open, and no maximum allowed withdrawal amount, so they could have as much flexibility as possible. Given what you know of the bank, in this situation they’re likely to cap withdrawals for a day or two, until they can get a shipment from another branch to get the books evened out again. If anything, the guy’s question is a little amusing, as it’s not as if the money in the vault is earmarked as belonging to anyone in particular; his question no doubt reflects a rather dim understanding of the system you manage so adequately for him.

Note: I apologize to anyone who knows more about banks than I do if these facts are not at all plausible about a bank. :P


Perspicacia

Looking good so far. :-)


Pulse

No response from Kellie has arrived by the time you’ve left. Flying over the city in a regular search pattern, you don’t see much that is overtly amiss with the citizens of Rainport. However, in your meticulous inspection, one of the grates leading to the sewers catches your eye. You had mentally filed them away for observation when patrolling the city on Monday, and this one has very definitely been disturbed from the last time you saw it.


Gulerod

While you get a few strange looks, the bartender is not complaining at the slow but steady stream of purchases. Dawn arrives with little incident.

[zerombr]

Simon Day 4


Simon sighed to himself as the chauffer blared his distastefully loud music as he tried to focus on the tasks at hand. In truth, he really didn't mind the music itself, though he was no enthusiast; it was the volume that irritated him. He clenched his fist for a mere moment, considering all the particular ways he could solve this problem.
A new turtle for the aquarium. perhaps?
He rapped lightly on the window separating him from the driver, his words of polite, passiveness unheard, muted by the shrill singing from the clueless driver...or did he know but not care? Simon looked to the rear view mirror as he sat back in his seat, suspect in that he saw a hint of a smile from his driver's face.
Of course the perfect place to commit a murder is in a crowd, you know
he pulled out his wallet, and thumbed out a picture of his muse as the car jerked to the side, passing slower traffic with much...veracity. He looked at the small laminated photo of the great inventor for a few moments. Simon's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the picture, he could...feel the man's brilliance, the contempt for society, the... <Buzz> <Buzz>
Oh for the love of Aether!
His phone had received a rather ominous text from some degenerates who had the nerve to call themselves his 'associates'. He sent back a complacent acknowledgement to the number, in hopes of keeping them off his back, for a few minutes.
Is all brilliance chained by society so?
He arrives, and after being hurried inside by his manager, Simon adjusts his glasses, restraining the impulses, the sheer epiphany he had managed simple days ago. He hesitated to answer, the drugery of the previous day was a blur at times. Simon rubbed his arm from where he had been grabbed so callously, "Considering the current amount of gold accounts, the correct percentage of cash on hand we needed to hold to satisfy our guarantee was 2.1 million. If you recall properly, there was a lack of requisition due to paperwork not being filed in a timely manner, that left us five hundred thousand short..." He tried not to sound so giddy about his boss' troubles. In truth, it really wasn't his fault, nor was it Simon's fault. It all came down to a pair of buffoons that had worked their way up a company ladder.


Day 2

The day had progressed as inevitable as always, dealing with incompetent idiots of all kinds. Those who knew Simon Tremble best may have suspected a change in his attitude lately, as if putting on a performance of himself. His mannerisms were changed if slightly, his vocabulary more profound, and thus it was a very good thing that noone here knew the banking drone as more than a very quiet, very benign man who graciously kept to himself.

Which is why it was so very surprising that two of his executive co-workers had convinced him to go out for drinks, having heard he had bought a club recently. He detested Whatley, and his little sidekick, the appropriately named Jester. He was the type of man who was a bully in middle school and never lost the mentality. Whatley had a very good instinct about who he could intimidate, and who he could not. Though he was loathe to admit it, Simon had cowered to him for several years, yet now, he found the man laughable at best. Fear has a way of removing itself when power is anointed unto the worthy, and Lore was fearless now...

There were still some bottles left at the club once known as Notions, and Lore could barely imagine why these irritants would want to step foot into a deserted club, when they had so much more at their disposal. Nevertheless drinks were poured, and jests at the meager Simon were made. It was a hollow and useless night, though at least he had managed to repair one of the loose stools with a toolbox left on the bar.

Whatley cleared his throat. "So uh...Siiim....We'd been going over the accounts lately, at work." He had to have added 'at work', seriously, did he need such a clarification, was it feasible to have accounts to manage at home or on the bus? Lore's thoughts were interrupted as the two took a more serious tone, it came quite clear that he was asked here for a reason.

"Look, I'm going to say it flat out....you're not followin procedure. Me and Jester...we think we got things figured out." Simon swallowed audibly, "Figured things...out? I assure you that......" A hand was raised up against him, as if to say 'stop'. "No no...don't bother, it's obvious really what you've been doing...I just didn't expect you to have the bawls to do it. I mean...embezzlement? You? I mean some of your work just doesn't add up, so..." Whatley flashed him a grin, "How much you diverted so far?"

He relaxed a hair, the man was an idiot, Lore was into money laundering, not embezzlement, still this was a threat to his way of life. The Suits were the only ones who he had worked with, only ones who had what he needed... His heart began to race as Whatley continued on, something about wanting in, or threatening exposure...Jester...just stood behind him with a snarky grin. If he couldn't get his tonic...if his work was exposed... His head reeled as he considered the consequences, he sagged onto the bar for support, his hand landing upon the screwdriver he had used hours earlier, gripped it tightly, and things finally made sense.

He laughed as he worked...for the first time in ages, he laughed. Damn it felt good....

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper listens attentively to the secretary, and answers, "Please sign me up for the first session." Glancing at a clock on the wall, he sees that he still has well over an hour before the class begins. After filling out the necessary paperwork with the secretary, he exits the police station, pausing for a moment on the street outside. Remembering Pulse's insight into his condition from yesterday, he searches for a store at which to purchase a decent pair of sunglasses. After roughly a twenty minutes, he returns to the police station, his sensitive eyes shielded by a simple but stylish pair of black sunglasses, to finish waiting for the course to begin.

OOC:

I assume no untoward trouble in purchasing some sunglasses before the class begins. Otherwise, I'll adjust my post accordingly. Didn't seem like a big enough deal to extend across multiple posts.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

Hadyn sat bolt upright in bed as his alarm scared him out of the nightmare he'd been having. He'd been chasing some strange figure, a criminal of some sort, when suddenly he turned around only to be revealed as the older Zeus from that dystopian future nightmare he'd had the night before. The older Zeus had laughed and had started to fry Hadyn like a moth caught in a bug zapper. Hadyn's powers hadn't been the least bit of assistance. He hadn't been able to do anything. He'd been completely helpless. That was the last thought before the lightning swallowed him up and his eyes had snapped open to the sound of his alarm clock. The alarm clock made a weird snapping noise and then shorted out with a puff of smoke when he looked at it. Covered in cold sweat, he let his head fall back onto the pillow, trying to control his breathing. Only then did he realize that he had to get up and go to school... With a groan, he rolled over and slapped his pillow over his head.

Not long after, Hadyn's mother had knocked on his door and forced him to get out of bed on pain of death. He'd reluctantly dragged himself into the shower and then dressed. He grabbed a piece of toast off of the table as he rushed his little sister out of the door and then jumped in his piece of crap minivan. It coughed and sputtered, but eventually turned over, and that was the good news. The bad news was that the radio went the way of his alarm clock. Hadyn made a mental note to line his computer with lead or something before the same thing happened to it, too. He parked in the senior parking lot and watched his sister run off to join her friends. They disappeared inside, but Hadyn waited until the first bell had rung before making his way in. He seriously didn't want to have to talk to anyone, nor explain his disappearance yesterday.

Speaking of which, Hadyn thought again to the invitation he'd received to Shaun's party. He had immediately dismissed even the possibility of going, but with everyone talking about it he started to wonder if it might be fun. If there were so many people there, and he laid low, he might not even see Shaun or his mentally-challenged friends at all the whole night. As the school day continued, he became more and more curious if he would be able to take that police training course right after school and then make Shaun's party that night...

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Her sleepless night finally fading with the light of the sun, Tasha groaned and kept her eyes focused on her computer. She'd been researching the new reports of the bomb blast since she realized sleep wasn't likely again any time soon. Or rather, she'd meant to, before the endless distractions of the internet dragged her off. Instead she'd spent an hour on TV tropes, and watched several off-topic news stories and a porn video. She squinted at the sun as is streamed through her one, tiny window... and sighed.

Ugh. She groaned to herself, Today is going to suck.

Abandoning her computer to it's own devices, she got up and headed for the bathroom to begin her morning routine. Today, she had a special part to play. She dressed in some of the nicer clothing she owned, and put her hair back in a long ponytail. Her bruise wasn't too evident, at the least.

Maybe we heal quicker? She mused as she put on her makeup, using Heather's rather than her own black lipstick and eyeshadow.

Once she was satisfied, she gave a quick goodbye to her freshly-awake roommate... agreeing to meet her back in the dorm later on, so they could go out and grab ice cream, like they planned. Other than giving her a few odd looks for dressing almost "normal", Heather didn't seem to expect anything was up. But then, how could she?

She took off in her car, music less blaring than usual to appease her mild but nagging headache... and headed for her first stop. To where the bomb had gone off.

Tasha is doing a bunch of normal-ish research on the bomb and the assorted news-reports made about it. Nothing involving hacking or illegal crap. More the sort of thing I'm sure thousands of curious people did after the bomb took down a building in the city. I believe it was said that clean-up operations were still going on. Not investigative teams anymore, I'm sure... but there's bound to be a few cops at the scene, I'm hoping.

If not, she can move on... but if so, then I think she should do a little "research" for her paper on current events and the changes that the mutant-outbreak is bringing to the city. :smallbiggrin:

Research roll, if needed: [roll0]

Wow... In light of that, I feel the need to modify my above post to show my complete lack of ANYTHING gleaned from that research. :smalleek:

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

When satisfied that he has watched all the news, Gulerod gets up and walks out without saying so much as a word to the bartender, or anyone else.

Trudging through the city, he goes to the police station in a roundabout way, occasionally stopping to orient himself, and once to ask directions to a street cleaner.

Finally arriving at the police station, he goes to the front desk, crawls on top of it, and sits down.

"I am sorry if I seem to be soiling your counter, but I don't like talking to wood. I'm here for the police training. My name's Gulerod, and I'd like you to sign me up for the first session where there's room, and please don't bother me with any paperwork. I don't read."

Gulerod waits patiently while the receptionist tells him when the session will be and to answer any questions they might still have, then jumps off the counter. For lack of anything better to do, he goes to a supermarket and waits for the doors to open, so he can go in and buy a few crates of beer to carry him through what sounded like it would become a tedious class session. The dwarf then returns to the police station, stacking half of his beer for later use, and the other half for immediate consumption while passing the time.

Anyone who as much as looks at his beer enviously gets offered one.
This'll go a long way into getting me hooked up with some of the more powerful guys out there. Everybody remembers a free beer from a midget.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

As the Reaper watches the minutes tick by, he is treated to a rather unusual sight. Some sort of illiterate midget mutant, who apparently signed up for the police course, was now standing in a corner drinking substantial amounts of beer. With scant few ways to pass the time, he walked purposefully towards the mutant. Bowing politely, he said, "Good morning, sir. Mind some company? I am the Reaper, as you might already know. Forgive me if I do not offer a handshake; some of my powers are slightly temperamental."

[MountainKing]

Jack Pretto

Every man faces important decisions in their life. Decisions upon which potentially rest the safekeeping, if not the very lives, of any number of anonymous individuals. Decisions that started wars, or ushered in world peace... that wrote novels, or incited book burnings. Jack stared blankly as he wrestled such a decision in his mind; he wasn't a morning person. Some days, he wasn't even a noon person, yet... here he was. Staring blankly, on the very brink of making...

A decision.

Reaching out, Jack gripped the brass knob on the kitchen cabinet, swinging wide the door. With his free hand, he snagged out the bag of un-ground coffee beans, and set about getting ready to have a normal morning. Whiskey before noon was frowned upon in most any social circle, so thus was the decision made. Jack would have coffee with his breakfast. Busying himself, soon enough Jack found himself seated at his table, a plate of eggs (over easy), ham, and toast lay before him, beside a bowl of cottage cheese with salsa atop it, and a steaming cup of coffee. A thump at the door; turning his head, Jack looked in the direction of the sound. The morning paper.

Every man faces important decisions in their life.

[harmonictempest]

Simon Tremble

Your boss passes a hand over his eyes, but otherwise actually perks up a bit. Right, I’d forgotten about that. That’s good – means we only lost about six hundred k, then. Right, I’m gonna go talk to the cops some more, see how much more I can get from them. I need you to go back over the gold star accounts and figure out which one’s we’re forfeiting the guarantee on right now. Don’t send out notifications yet, just flag them in case they come asking about it. No need to pony up the forfeiture if they don’t ask, right? Oh, and I might send one of the reporters your way, she’d driving me crazy. She already milked the guards dry, even though I told them not to talk to her, but she wants some comment from actual bank employees. If I can’t satisfy her, I may send her to you for some off-the-record stuff, okay? Just feed her something soothing about how the bank is well-prepared to handle it and handle any annoying questions, right? Hardly waiting for an aswer, he bustles out.

Feel free to improvise details of bank operations if you need or want to for your posts.


The Reaper/Gulerod

The sunglasses cost $24.99, but make you look super cool. Well, actually you look a little goofy, kinda like putting Mickey Mouse ears on the devil. Still, they perform their job admirably.

Gulerod has the paperwork patiently explained to him by the receptionist, and signs up for the first session. When he returns with the beer, he gets a lot of uncomfortable looks. Clearly, no one is quite sure whether they’re allowed to kick you out or even make you stop; how much and which rules apply to mutants is evidently not something that society has figured out quite yet. No one makes a move to stop you, yet.

I figure I’ll give you two a little time to talk while we wait for Pulse to catch up.


Kid Zeus

As you’ve already noticed, school seems subtly different these days; though, more likely it’s you that is different. Your friends, and those you observe around you, seem to be taking the explosion more or less in stride. Like the average man on the street, it’s easy to be blasé about something that doesn’t affect you very much. A joke here about the power they’d like to have, a sideways glance there, when someone pulls off a layup in gym that might be just a little too good, but otherwise not much except a lot of conversation and speculation.

Shaun isn’t in your first class, but ignores you almost completely during American History. As you juggle schedules in your mind and begin to empathize with Peter Parker, you realize one of your friends is asking you a question. In a similar social position as you, he’s asking whether you plan to go to the party tonight.

The party starts a little later – there would definitely be time to make both, especially if you weren’t too sold on stuff like taking time for dinner, or getting there right on time.


Tasha

It may be the overwhelming slew of fascinating mutant stories, but word on the exploding apartment building has already begun to fade into the background. You find nothing on it, but feel as if you vaguely remember that cleanup was going to be continuing at least through today.

When you arrive at the location, you find the entire area cordoned off by chain-link construction walls. Inside, much of the rubble has been removed, but a crane and several earthmovers are still clearing the site, painstaking shuffling the piles of broken building materials around and scooping them onto dump trucks while the crane lifts and stacks the last few large metal I-beams, while the clean outline of bare dirt and a square basement become visible again. Several cop cars are also in attendance, though you only immediately see one cop, casually leaning on the hood of his car and watching the work progress.


Jack

Your breakfast is unutterably delicious.

[Wiz]

Pulse pauses in his overflight, slowly circling a strange crowd on one corner. As he gets closer he sees there is a small crowd of people handing money to a strange man, dressed rather like a homeless person, but with a red apron bearing the logo of the 'Rainport's Best' coffee bar, worn backwards like a cape. As he hover's closer the fellow waves some of the people back away from him. "Excuse me... hero needs a coffee break too! What'll it be... Pulse, isn't it?" Pulse nods, "Who are you?" The homeless man smiles, showing several missing teeth, "I'm the Bountiful Barista!" He chuckles, "What's your poison?" Pulse looks surprised, "A double-tall, whole milk vanilla latte... if you've got it." The Barista laughs and gestures, a steaming paper cup filled with expresso in steamed milk appears in his hand. "No problem for the Barista!" He offers the cup to Pulse who takes it gingerly, a smile in his eyes. "How much?" The Barista waves his hand, "No charge for heroes, firemen, or police!" Pulse nods, "I see you're doing some good business though..." The Barista winks, "Hey, it's better than cleaning car windshields... and with no overhead, I can charge a buck a drink and still make a killing!" Pulse nods, "Let me know if you need any help." The Barista nods and goes back to selling conjured coffee to the masses as Pulse heads in to the Police Station to make his report on the previous night's work. Parking on the roof he walks down to the office where he was summoned previously, holding his latte.

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

"There's absolutely no reason to "sir" me, sir. I am Gulerod, plain and simple. If you fancy a beer, mi beero e su beero, or something. Sit, you're straining my neck."

Gulerod points at a spot where The Reaper can sit, kneel, do whatever he likes to get on somewhat equal footing with the midget.

"So, you're "The Reaper". I'm sure I'm pleased to meet you right now, but you do look like the sort of Super you don't want to go bump in the night, mm? Nice glasses though, where'd you get them? Might get me a pair sometime, although with the way I live they're as liable to be punched into my eyes as make me look good."

Gulerod looks around, and notices the uncomfortable glares being thrown his way.

"Look, y'all can come and get a beer or not, but didn't your Mommy ever tell you that staring is impolite?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper sits cross-legged beside Gulerod. He says, "Thanks for the offer, but I don't drink anymore. No mouth. It sucks." He sighs, still trying to puzzle out how he can sigh when he can't breathe. "A store down the street sells them. Twenty five bucks. Now that you mention it, I don't know how long these'll last without getting busted up by the next caped villain-of-the-day to start causing mayhem. Heck, I bought an umbrella night before last, to keep the sun off, and it didn't even make it a whole day before Kid Zeus fried it. I'm beginning to suspect he doesn't like me. I should invest in a lightning rod next. So what kind of powers do you have? I can merge with shadows, teleport between them, and cause fear with a touch. Oh, and these," he says, indicating his claws. "Downside is, when I get sunburned, I actually burn. Plus, the eyes are a bit sensitive, hence the glasses."

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

"I float like a butterfly and sting like a ten ton truck punching you in the face. I also don't need to eat, sleep, or even drink, but it's not because I don't need to, that I won't, if you get my drift. Having no mouth must suck. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Kid Zeus supposed to be one of the good guys? I've been happily out of the loop for a few days, hehe."

While Gulerod is motioning, The Reaper also notices his clenched fists becoming hard balls of flesh and bone, resembling boxing gloves, when he explains the floats-like-a-butterfly-power series.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper nods. "Yeah, Kid Zeus is one of the good guys. He just doesn't think I am. I used to be a pretty bad person, a psychopath and a murderer, but I've changed for the better. Kid Zeus is just one of the few who doesn't believe in my redemption, doesn't believe that people can change. The only constant in the world is change, and people are no different."

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

"Heh, can't say I blame him. Giving up being a psychopathic axe murderer sounds harder than giving up drinking. Hey, wait a second... You don't drink anymore? Right, I'll be damned if I don't do anything about that."

With that, Gulerod gets up and waddles outside, leaving behind his entire stash of beer, to run to the nearest supermarket or department store.

Coming back after half an hour, he holds in his hands his prize: a plant spray. He loads up the sprayer with some beer, tests it and puts it as misty as he can get it.

"Do you mind if I tried this?", pointing the spray at The Reaper. "It might work a bit like anti-sweat, but with beer."

[Wiz]

Pulse walks up to Reaper, "Good morning... are we ready for the debriefing?"

[zerombr]

Simon Tremble

Your boss passes a hand over his eyes, but otherwise actually perks up a bit. Right, I’d forgotten about that. That’s good – means we only lost about six hundred k, then. Right, I’m gonna go talk to the cops some more, see how much more I can get from them. I need you to go back over the gold star accounts and figure out which one’s we’re forfeiting the guarantee on right now. Don’t send out notifications yet, just flag them in case they come asking about it. No need to pony up the forfeiture if they don’t ask, right? Oh, and I might send one of the reporters your way, she’d driving me crazy. She already milked the guards dry, even though I told them not to talk to her, but she wants some comment from actual bank employees. If I can’t satisfy her, I may send her to you for some off-the-record stuff, okay? Just feed her something soothing about how the bank is well-prepared to handle it and handle any annoying questions, right? Hardly waiting for an aswer, he bustles out.

Profession: Bank Manager [roll0]


Simon Day 4


The mere thought of getting back to work made him giddy...or more accurately, overwhelmingly depressing. He blankly looked over his folders, having been so uptight to have written records for most of his work, after all, it was foresight that had got him this meager job to begin with. The mere thought of how much of his life was wasted in this soul-sucking office agitated him enough that he threw the folder from his desk, then laid back in his chair, his hands covering his face.
STOP BEING A DRONE, YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE, GET UP...MOVE!
He slumped forward, both hands still covering him, as he started to sweat profusely, twitching angrily. He could feel his heart race as he shook at his desk. 'Focus..focus...focus...' he murmured under his breath. He absently fingered a vial in his pocket...

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

Morning...

It was a truly beautiful day. Nice breeze, not a cloud in the sky, low humidity and even with the threat of it being irrepresibly sunny all day, he couldn't complain.

Tasha should be here any minute now...

Looking up into the sky as he sat, relaxing the outdoor table of the small caffe' in downtown Rainport, he could almost forget the troubles of the last couple of days. Heck, he could almost forget the last couple of years.

Sighing with satisfaction, he smiled as the cute barrista came out to serve him his coffee and crusaunt, even though he would probably end up passing them off to Natasha after only a single sip and bite.

If I keep this up, it's only a matter of time before people start wondering if I'm anorexic. I probably should eat more, at least in public.

The buildings windows gleamed beautifully, the few pedestrians walking by appeared to be enjoying the day as much as he was, woefully oblivious to the danger he presented.

A wolf in sheeps clothing. After all, wool was so very comfortable this time of year.

As the barrista placed his order on the table she looked at him squarely, a sly and all to familiar gleam in her eye.

Draven knew what was coming next.

"Is there anything else I can get for you sir?" She said, even as she leaned over, placing her hands on her knees and giving him a more than accidental view of her generous endowment. She inclined her head cutely, her wavy blond hair pulled back and up, exposing a tattoo of cherries behind her ear. Or were they Raspberries?

A pity my powers make such overtures obsolete. But...

He gave her what he hoped was both a pleased and considerate look, as he maintained firm eye contact with her, his gaze not so much as wavering for a moment.
"Actually, now that you mentioned it. I was thinking some fresh fruit would be nice on such a nice day. But, I don't see anything like that on the menue."

"Oh, I have just what you're looking for, here," she said pertly, reaching out, not to point at the menue as he had expected, but to touch his chest, well defined even under his light-grey fitted turtle-neck sweater.

Silly girl, you shouldn't have done that.

He felt his skin crawl, not in disgust or fear, but in the new inhuman way he had almost grown accustomed to. His stomach growled. She didn't seem to notice.

Am I hearing things now?

He glanced down at her procelain white hand, then back at her face.

It melted to transparency before his eyes, defining features fading to near nothingness. Skin becoming like frosted glass, clothing like dim smudges against a bright warm light.
As she took off her beret with a giggle and pointed to her tattoo, the mark nearly faded to invisibility against the glow pulsing through her clear skin, he saw her for what she really was.

"Like these right?" He heard her say faintly. But all he saw were gobbets of glowing, bruise-red, succulent light. Her life essence, suspended in a laticework of interconnecting strands, pulsing in time to her heartbeat. Energy, pure and simple. Beautiful, suspended in frail shell of flesh, waiting, asking, to be liberated.

He gripped the edge of the table, struggling to retain his poise, to smile, to seem normal, to resist the urges welling within him, even as the crawling sensation twined it's way, inch by inch, up his neck.
He looked without looking, he knew the street was empty. No cars, no pedestrians...no witnesses.
Saliva filled his mouth for the first time in days.

The cold hollow within, simultaneously spreading like an oil slick on the Alaskan shoreline, relentless, suffocating all life, leaving nothing but desolation in it's wake.

Completely normal reall...no, she doesn't, can't, know what she's doing, she can't, but so temp...no no NO!

The girl leaned in, luminous, delicious, his hand came up. He froze, shaking.

Tasha was standing beside the table, a bemuzed look on her face.

Draven breathed a shuddering sigh, of relief or frustration he wasn't completely sure.

"...Well, looks to me like you've already ordered...Glad to see you saved the best for me." She said in her usual sarcastically flirtatious tone.

With a flourish, she produced a bright metalic object, the bastard child of a spoon and straw invented in the imaginings of a mad chemists torrid nightmares.

She dipped it daintily into the suprised girls temple and sucked thoughtfully.

The light stirred inside the glowing object in the shape of a barrista. It didn't seem terribly alarmed.

She, she, it's a she.

Tasha looked at him sideways, and paused, smirking playfully.

"You know I've always wanted to watch baby..."

Darkness greeted him, grinning.


* * *

It was dark. Of that he was sure. But, of course, that hadn't been a problem for him for a while now.

The screaming on the other hand. That might be a problem. His vocal chords felt raw.

Concrete, musty books. Lying in a web of plasm, covered head to toe in an ice cold sweat. In the basement. He drew it back to himself.

He remembered now, he'd come down here to retrieve the Lovecraft original. "Mountain's of Madness"...or was it "The Colour out of Space"? Did it really matter?.
It was time to get back to work.

I wonder what Natasha's up to?

He shuddered, but could only vaguely recall why.

YAY for [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HighOctaneNightmareFuelnightmare fuel[/url]. YAY for Tool. Hope you folks enjoyed the ride! Stay tuned for the next installment. You know, when I actually DO something. :smallamused:

And I'm spent. G-Night.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

When you arrive at the station, there is no immediate sign of 1337. After a few minutes, though, he comes in the door, hair tousled and unwashed, and clearly on the wrong side of less sleep than he would have liked to get. Umbleuhmshumtooearly…ugh. C’mon, let’s find a back room with a little privacy. He walks up to the receptionist, who greets him with a smile. After exchanging a few low words, 1337 turns and stares at the doors leading out of the main room. Shaking his head to clear the remaining fuzziness from it, he says Okay, this way, and leads to you back toward the interrogation rooms, where there are fewer people. Sitting down to face you, he takes on an attitude that seems unfamiliar for a moment, until you realize it’s exactly like someone preparing to take dictation, except minus the computer.

Okay, so…blah blah blah, time and date, et cetera et cetera, terms of mission, details details details details all right, here we go. Analyzing the Suits first. I figured out last night that they’d been sending deliberately misleading emails back and forth, hoping someone would crack it and show up. I didn’t check for it to begin with because it seemed outside the bounds of plausibility, and I can’t check for everything. Needless to say, I’ve got an extra processor on the job now, and taking no chances. The interesting news is, after looking at it for a few hours and comparing it to what happened, it doesn’t look like they were expecting you. I dunno who they were expecting, but they had enough firepower there to deal with nearly anything, from what you said. So, we’ll put that down as “able to anticipate possible action by so-called ‘supers’, and lay a trap for them.” Wrap the rest of that is similar mumbo-jumbo that the stuffed shirts like to read…okay. How about a brief summary of what you encountered there, just for the report, then we can move on to the other two gangs?


Gulerod

The stares turn away at your remark, and no one replies. After all, you’re not drunk and disorderly yet, and if you get that way, well, you’re already pretty close to the cells, aren’t you?

When you bring back the pesticide sprayer and begin filling it with beer, however, you can feel the mood in the room snap lightly as you finally cross the line. The receptionist calls in a calm voice from behind the desk. Sir—err, Gulerod? You’re going to need to take that outside. You can’t use it in here.


Lore

The work, little more than tedious data entry, goes slowly but easily. Half an hour later, a brisk knock comes on the door, and it’s opened by an equally brisk young woman in a sharp business suit. Kellie Kellogg, Mr. Tremble. I wondered if you might have a moment for a few questions? Your boss was quite busy, but he said you would hopefully have any answers I need.


Draven

*shudder*

[zerombr]

Mr. Tremble

Simon startles at the knock, shaking his head for a moment, as if to help clarifty reality from madness. "Erhm...yes, of course..." He gathers up the spilt paperwork he had tossed aside in his pique of frustration, "You'll..hrm...have to excuse the mess, this is a trying time. I do hope you're not from the media." He pauses, as he explains, "I do so tend to lose my nerve before reporters." He meekly sits back down in his leather chair, "Please, sit, I'm sure you have questions, no matter your occupation."
POLICE? ATTORNEY? MOBSTER? SHE IS DANGEROUS...
Simon takes a moment to adjust his glasses, wary already about this outsider to his life, and took the time to polish his glasses to assess her as best he could.
Sense Motive [roll0]

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Ok... this looks almost TOO simple. Tasha thought to herself, May as well start small.

She approached the cop who was off to the side in observation, with the biggest smile she could muster.

Um, hello. She said to him in feigned awkwardness, I'm not... entirely sure who I'm supposed to be looking for. Are you... um... the head detective? I'm doing a piece for my school paper about mutant issues and how it might affect current legislature, and um... the cop I talked to on the phone said that the head detective here was the one I needed to talk to.

She'd drop the head guy's name if I could remember it, dang it! Can I make some sort of Int check to come up with it? It'll add a lot of credibility to my bluff. :smalltongue:

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shrugs, "What I saw was a small group of people, puffed up with their new powers and looking for a rumble to try them out. Than and the fact I was sent into a situation that was basically a trap... I'm not speaking against you 1337, but I'm wondering if the best way to deal with these situations is to follow someone else's directions and information rather than my own."

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

How long have I been staring at this page?

His eyes roamed to his hand, encased in a latex glove, resting idly on the page. No unusual movement, as had been the case only half an hour ago. He briefly, very briefly, was glad that his abilities, so far at least, had shown virtually no possibility of generating collateral damage.

It all makes sense of course, all lines up with my deductions up to this point, but I still can't help feeling just a little bit bad for guys like Inferno. Maybe even Jack, but, after last night, only a little bit.

He looked up, and out the front glass of the store. It was in fact a beautiful day. Just as he had envisioned, or nearly so.
The difference was, in reality he was stuck indoors, babysitting a store that was lucky to get more than two walk-ins a day.

Hell, a store that's sole product little more than ten percent of the general public even knows how to use properly!

I've learned as much as I'm going to here anyway. All the books pretty much confirm the same thing. What's going on is highly improbable, on the scale which it's occuring, and that, due to that scale, it's almost gauranteed it's bad news.

He shook his head in frustration, the muted light playing across his glossy hair.

The worst part is, almost no one seems to realize this, and those that do are so misled, or deluded, or up to their necks in denial, that they think they can handle it on their own.

I probably should have gone about things a little differently with that Nosferatu guy. He might have been able to come around.
Perhaps Hex would see where I'm coming from, but may be too immature and volatile to be trusted...hmmmm.

So much to accomplish, too many loose threads. It's only a matter of a time before the other shoe drops.
I guess it's a good thing I have the access codes to the survelance system here...and that almost no one would want to steal books in the first place.

With that, he set about remotely patching his PDA into the system, making a mental note to himself to check the relay periodically just in case.

Taking the next half-hour to skim the news feeds online, he took note of all news related to mutant activity and the major events in Rainport, even as he simultaneously considered how best to deal with the connundrum of the various patients at the Hospital. It was going to be a long day.

I barely know where to start, and I know I'm smarter than I was a few days ago. I can only hope all the activity will keep the..."visions" at bay. I don't know if I can handle, or afford, another laps like that.
On the bright side, I'll only be leaving the shop an hour early today.

With that, Draven began rapidly organizing a mental itinerary of activities for the day, making a point to allow for unexpected changes, which, in a city like Rainport, was virtually a given.

[harmonictempest]

Lore

Her brilliant smile never wavering, Kellie laughs lightly. Well, I’m afraid I am “from the media”, I suppose, but I promise I don’t bite. I was just trying to get some background comments to add a little texture to the piece I’m putting together on the robbery. She closes the door behind her, and with a decisive click as it shuts. Sitting, she turns the full force of her flawless smile on you, dimpling with just a hint of allure. Now then, Simon – can I call you Simon? – this doesn’t have to be on the record or anything silly. I just need to know what tone to set with the piece, and some background will help. Has this bank, or any others in the chain, been robbed in your memory? What’s the usual procedure in this case? And how hard would you say this crime has hit the bank?

Sense Motive: She appears to be a reporter, keenly interested in getting what she needs for her story.

You can answer the questions however you like – if you need some context for the last one, the vault that was taken from was partially cleaned out, and it was the secondary vault. The primary vault in the basement holds the really important stuff.


Tasha

The officer smiles comfortably. Detective Frendock, eh? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, little lady, but he’s not out on the site today. He’s a busy man, you know; probably back at the station, if I had to guess. I’m real sorry you trekked out all this way. I can answer some questions if you want my opinion, but I dunno if you wanted someone a little higher up than a beat cop. I couldn't give you a whole lot of answers about this, though (gesturing at the site in front of you). You know, ongoing investigation and all.


Pulse/Reaper

Despite Pulse’s softening of his critique, 1337 bridles at his words. Hey man, I don’t remember telling you to go in guns blazing. In fact, I’m pretty sure I remember you saying all you were going to do was listen, and me agreeing that it would be dangerous to do much more. As for information, if you think you could guess four different account titles and passwords from only tangentially related handle traffic, trace all activity from those accounts using a Trojan retroviral that covers its own tracks, and then ease through the cracks on two different security systems without either brute forcing them wide open or leaving any sign you’d been there at all; and if you think that, after all that, you’d bother spending twice as much time as you already had on writing a syntax analyzer and running it against the last six months of email on each account to see if the tone and style indicated trickery; if you think you’d bother with doing that extra 200% to check the trustworthiness of information locked behind about five layers of commercial guarantees of flawless protection. If you think that you’d be paranoid enough to check that, just in case these gangsters planned on some superhuman hacker breaking into their secure accounts to get fooled by it, and not only be that paranoid, but spend that much extra time on such an unlikely scenario when you’re on such a tight time crunch?

If you really think you would have done all that, then I guess you would be better off trusting your own sources. In the meantime, though, I don’t think you’re going to find a better source of information. Not that I plan to do this after this assignment is over, though – I’m getting way behind the rest of my guild in World of Starcraft, and police business…well, I’m certainly not getting paid.

With a deep breath, he exhales slowly, then pointedly returns to his original pose. Anyway, we were at…right. Could one or both of you describe the capabilities of any mutants you encountered or heard of in your investigation? This is the main point of the whole deal, so give as much detail as you can.

[Wiz]

Pulse raises an eyebrow, "I said I wasn't speaking against you, didn't I, and I spoke of information and directions... the directions most certainly weren't yours. Unless, of course, I was misinformed on that point too. So... we were sent in to listen to the gang talk... and in that talk they would no doubt have detailed all of their powers and capabilities for us out loud, even though they obviously knew their own abilities well... but merely wanted to test them out." He shakes his head, "Someone sent us in there because they knew a situation would likely arise where we would observe the gang's powers first hand, as they were used against us... because, as you say... that was the point of this whole exercise." He tips his hat, "You can tell the people in charge that I'm not interested in being a decoy for them in the future... I am perfectly happy to help the police on my own time and in my own way, and that is what I will be doing in the future. Good luck with Starcraft." He turns to depart.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper waves Gulerod's offers of "assistance" aside, even as he is being rebuked by the receptionist. "Another time, perhaps. It was a pleasure meeting you."After a polite nod, he moves silently to join Pulse for the debriefing.

He listens in silence to Pulse and 1337 as they trade blows. Much of 1337's tantrum was over his head, but he got the general idea. When Pulse turns to leave, however, he also rises. "Pulse, wait," he implores. "I'm not saying you aren't right to be upset, or even that you wouldn't be justified if you walked out that door right now. But I can't walk away. I have an obligation to the city to pay for my past crimes, and I can't do this by myself. I need your help. You defended my right to a second chance on the rooftop after the fire. You assisted me in convincing the mayor of the sincerity of my redemption. Last night, after I tried to save Riff, you saved me. You're the closest thing to a friend I've ever had. Don't work for them. Work with me."

[Wiz]

Pulse pauses, turning to Reaper. "I appreciate the situation you are in, Reaper... and it is partially my responsibility, the initial response of the city seemed to be positive, and I held high hopes for the interactions of mutates and normals. Unfortunately, last night and this morning have been changing things for me. First we have a situation that someone obviously put us in where we were to gather intelligence through being at personal risk... without being warned that this was the case, and now they have attempted to alter the status of the volunteer mutates by offering classes in enforcement that are designed to give us less authority to act than was initially granted. I'll tell you that I have no intention of participating in these classes, but I also warn you that the next step is they will require them." He sighs, "From an initially positive note, led by the mayor, the city is now trying to backpedal and control the situation by controlling us, and I find myself ashamed that I suggested that the other mutates also register as soon as possible." He pauses, "I will attempt to continue to work with this group, for the moment, but I predict that unless we take some control of this situation for ourselves, we are going to be maneuvered into someone else's agenda."

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

"Bleh. You're all no fun, you hear? No fun at all."

Pointing the spray in his mouth to see if the effect of the beer is different, he sits quietly in his corner, on a beer crate that has been turned upside down, observing who enters, who leaves, and who seems to be interested in a beer. After a while he, too, gets bored of the beer and decides to go for a short walk until it's time to go back for his class. Addressing a random person, he says:

"Yo! You! Mind the beer, leave a few for me, do with the rest what you want, mkay? If you can't or won't, at least find somebody else who will."

And just like that... He's gone.

[zerombr]

Her brilliant smile never wavering, Kellie laughs lightly. Well, I’m afraid I am “from the media”, I suppose, but I promise I don’t bite. I was just trying to get some background comments to add a little texture to the piece I’m putting together on the robbery. She closes the door behind her, and with a decisive click as it shuts. Sitting, she turns the full force of her flawless smile on you, dimpling with just a hint of allure. Now then, Simon – can I call you Simon? – this doesn’t have to be on the record or anything silly. I just need to know what tone to set with the piece, and some background will help. Has this bank, or any others in the chain, been robbed in your memory? What’s the usual procedure in this case? And how hard would you say this crime has hit the bank?


Simon (regretting coming to work today)

He coughs to himself, "Yes, well....I'm afraid I can't answer most of your questions, I suppose the main thing to stress is that most accounts, save for ones that have a cash reserve are unaffected, It's all....." He pauses, touching his temple. "It's almost superfluous..." Simon stands up, his gaze drawn to the window outside, his hands clasped together behind his back, "Banking is done electronically...the mere thought of assaulting an institution is archaic." He places one of his hands on the glass pane, inadvertantly clawing it into a fist. "I'm sorry, Miss reporter...I feel an anxiety attack..." He wrings his hands as he plays off his addiction as a mere nervous tick.

Bluff [roll0]

"I...I need some air, this whole business has gotten me rather frazzled..." Simon takes a handkerchief out of his pocket, covering his mouth as he leaves his office. He continues the performance out into the main office, eluding his superiors as best he can, "Mindy...please assist the young reporter for me, I..I need air."
Good riddance to her, and to this menial joke of a career
Outside, he takes a few moments to recompose himself, withdrawn from the bank's camera eyes. He eyes several of the taxis passing by, sorely drawn to abandoning his work, dropping everything that had mattered to him in the last eight years. He reflected on that thought for a moment, when put into words, his decision was easy. "Taxi!"
Finally, Finally the story begins
And soon Lore was on his way down to his private acquisition, as the weight of a thousand tons of redudnancy was lifted from his shoulders. He quirked a smile, as he fumbled out his picture of inspiriation, it was time to get things started.

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

1337 exhales slowly, running his fingers through his slightly greasy hair while he listens to Reaper's expostulation. After a false start or two, he finds his voice. Look...I'm not saying I like being here, or that I'm gonna stay any longer than I have to, but I'm pretty sure they're dealing straight with us. Don't you remember? Nobody "sent us in" to that meeting - in fact, nobody gave us specific directions of any kind, aside from "try to find out what powers the gang mutates have", and there's definitely ways to find out that don't involve actual fighting. We figured out that the meeting was happening totally on our own, and I'm pretty sure you were the first one to suggest checking it out. The police won't even know what all we did until we report tonight - it just sounds kinda implausible that they'd have somehow figured out there was a meeting, and then ask us to gather information, hoping we'd stumble into the meeting and get hurt. I mean, yeah they knew they were putting us in harm's way, but so did you. The whole reason you volunteered was to help with stuff they can't do themselves - and I'm betting no police officer would have survived busting up that meeting.

As far as the classes, you may be misreading the situation, 'cause they're definitely not taking away powers. The mayor made vigilantism *completely* illegal, remember? They set up the registration bit for those who wanted to help, but it's only legal during the state of emergency, when pretty much anything's legal. To engage in any kind of law enforcement activities after that, you're legally required to have a modicum of training. Realizing he's used the rather nerdy word 'modicum', he flushes a little and says You're...not the first to come in here and complain about the classes.

Bulling on before you can interject, he says Look, I can't blame any of the mutates for being paranoid. But I've been stuck in this stupid station for the last couple days, and from what I can see, nobody's trying to maneuver anyone into an agenda. They're all just trying to deal with a freakin' weird situation as best they can. He looks sheepish that he's been forced to say something so blatantly not sarcastic or disdainful about the police he has to work for, but doesn't back down despite his embarrassment.

Turning to Reaper, he says If Pulse opts out, I think we can still get the info we need. Especially if we stay away from large groups.


The quote from the speech, for those interested; back all the way on page 2 of this thread!

Until the state senate makes legislation on what is to be done regarding those mutated by the chemical agents, it is the declaration of both myself and the governor that any use of these supernatural powers on another citizen against their will shall be considered an act of assault at the very least. Any forceful violation of the sanctity of another citizen’s mind made to their detriment shall be treated as an act of rape. And any harm to another citizen using these powers shall be considered assault with a deadly weapon. We do not condone vigilantism, and if anyone wishes to use their gifts to assist the law enforcement authorities, we ask that they voluntarily register themselves at the Police Headquarters, where we are gathering a database of information in order to assist those affected by this accident.


Lore

Are you sure? You look fine to-- The glass front door closing behind you cuts off her sentence. Your boss sure won't be happy about this, but you've endured worse lectures from him before.


Gulerod

The sullen young man in the front waiting area of the station looks thrilled to be offered so much free beer.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse looks at 1337, "You make an interesting case to defend those who've forced you to work for them." You can't tell if he's smiling or not when he says this, since he's wearing his mask.

Believe it or not, I wrote that speech. Or at least, I wrote a speech which geez3r pretty much took whole cloth with a few slight changes. By the way... just in case anyone is missing it... not being able to sleep is making Pulse a little paranoid... at least until his brain adapts completely to the situation, remember he's still only in day 4 of the change. Hope you're enjoying the show. :)

[harmonictempest]

Pulse/Reaper

Yeah, well it's a police station. Gotta suck up for the benefit of the hidden cameras every once in a while. Like most teenagers, 1337 would rather not stop to examine his feelings in great detail.

Oh, really? Wow, nicely done. I was actually thinking to myself when going through it for the quote that it was a very archetypical inspirational movie speech, and that it didn't quite seem like a lot of the rest of geez3r's writing. This makes sense now.

I've noticed the paranoia, and am enjoying it muchly. Are you saying that it's because of lack of REM sleep, or just a generic effect of having been "on" for too long without the break sleep offers?

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

sorry for the drag between posts, between commissions and preparing to move, I haven't had as much free time as I've liked... and I've selfishly spent most of it with the boyfriend. :smallwink:

Anywho, I'm trying to keep up here, so... here goes!

Oh, really? That sucks, I talked myself out of going there first to save time. Tasha said with a soft, and greatly exaggerated sigh.

After her dream last night, she was feeling a bit wary of just digging her hooks into the man's mind. It was probably irrational, and she knew it... but there were other ways to get information from people, and she decided it was time to stop using her telepathy as a crutch. That and... if her dream came about HERE.... half of these men had guns.

Well since I'm here... can I talk to you for a little bit, then? She asked him, her voice a mix of flirty and sheepish... the sort that would leave a man wondering for hours afterward if the cute girl was interested in him. I'll go grab us coffee from the little deli-thing down the block and come back, and we can talk. It'll save me from driving again for a little bit, at least.

[harmonictempest]

Tasha

The comfortably middle-aged officer smiles at the offer. Well, that'd be real nice, but... he glances over at where the other two officers descended into the cavity that used to be a basement. Well, I really shouldn't - wouldn't want to make the other fellows jealous, y'know? The glint on his ring finger gives a hint at who else might be jealous, but your offer makes him smile nonetheless, and he relaxes against the car. I got a couple minutes free until they finish in there. Whaddya want to know?

[Wiz]

Pulse doesn't say anything in response, but just seems to be waiting for direction at this point.

It's a well documented fact in sleep studies when they've interrupted the normal dreaming sleep (REM) for days on end, a person will become irritable, feel tired, and eventually start exhibiting signs of paranoia. I figure that since the mutation is ongoing and he's adapting to it... he will eventually hit a point where that won't be a problem (or maybe it will, depends where I take it), but he's not there yet. Just like it took him a while to actually get to the no sleeping state... for the first couple of nights he was actually just sleeping less and less... now not at all).

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha Verraine

Ok, sure. Thanks. She said with a faux-embarrassed smile. Well, um... one of the big things I'm working on is all the powers that all these people are getting. If there's some kinda... upper limit on them? I heard that someone just went and blew this place up with his brain, or something... and that's pretty freaking scary.

She gave that a moment to settle in, before speaking again, I'm sorry... that wasn't a question, was it?

[zerombr]

Lore

The ride was symbolic really, leaving one life behind for another, one far more interesting. He slips his picture back into his pocket, retrieving his cell phone. First matters first...he sets it to voice mail mode, after all, he was far less concerned about an irate boss than he may have been days ago, if he could call that life.

So much had changed in such a short span, that occasionally one must simply replay the incidents in their head, to simply make sense of it all

Day 3

As always, the mundanity of the day proceeded as normal, at first. His business last night with a pair of fools finally concluded early in the morning, but still, he felt alive, charged with optimism and strength. It was something about that picture he had kept of Tesla, he found himself hypnotically drawn to it, invigorating him to strive further.

He caught a recap of the great fire that had happened earlier, that enrapted him as well, enough that he drew a seat towards the television to watch it, his eyes glued to the flight bound figures of all styles, and then another snippet from a city Professor discussing mutate activities...a rally to a cause, it had seemed.

Lore shut off his TV as the weather was coming on, his mind racing with ideas. 'Power is growing rampant here...All these people affected similarly...yet not quite.' A grim smile grew on his face, 'It is a sign...all pointing to the inevitable...' He strove into his reading room, casting books aside in his glee, before opening the largest tome, 'The Protogenoi are returning...they seek their guides and avatars. Oh, the strength they carry in their etherial forms is legendary...deific.' He nearly swooned as he spun around, his heart beating faster, "And they shall have their servants! I shall awaken them, as the old Titans emerge anew!...But I need..vessels, I need power...If...If all these are affected similarly as myself...then the vessels, the very conduits of strength are all around me!"

He dropped to his knees, "It's so clear to me now, your wills be done!" The book had lain open to an ancient circle design, encompassing the page. Faintly, a subtle roar seemed to emenate from the book...

Later,

He stole from work during his lunch break, to a gardening supply shop down the street. It was usually quiet there during the day, and most of the elements of his augury were already there in some form. After obliging the standard hospitalities of the gardener and cashier, he found in the back, a large basin bird bath. His tonic was already racing through his system, flooding his mind with unbound ideas, racing with possibility. He located the power supply and terminated it, so the waters stopped flowing. His hand waved over the water, "Show unto me that which I seek....." A faint red crest, similar to the previous circle before emenated, as the water took form, then fuzzed out. He scowled, repeating the gesture, which seemed to work a bit better.

A young super zips over a school on an inclined path away from it. His speed is phenomenal as the vision pursues him to an old rock quarry...

"What do we have here..." Lore whispers to himself.


Lore looked down at his recently silenced phone, then called a familiar number

<<Nick...It's me...>>
<<Hey pal-o, Simone...you got some news for us bout the robbery?>>
<<It's Lore, you cretin. And I do, but I have something even more interesting. I bet you unsavory gents are already having some issues with the mutates running around, interfering?>>
<<Heh, you'se a smart guy Simone>>
<<Lore, you filthy sc.....erm, continue>>
<<Okay, Okay, sheesh, yeah there's been problems, whysat you askin?>>
<<Would you like to know where to find one? I've got a pretty good idea...>>

[Aramilla]

Gulerod

A thud at the front door of the police office. An innocently looking frozen chicken, plucked and ready to cook, is being stared at conspicuously.

"Bye bye Clucky!"

A midget comes running up to the chicken and kicks it. Hard. The sound of glass shattering comes from far, far away.

"No, Clucky, NO! That's the last time I'll pay for you, Clucky! You know you shouldn't break people's windows!"

After asking what time it is and how long till the classes start, Gulerod trods off to go and make amends with whomever Clucky offended, muttering "Bad Clucky, Bad" underneath his breath.

[harmonictempest]

Tasha

The policeman chuckles, then immediately says reassuringly Now, I wouldn't worry about that. I uh...well, I can tell you no one blew up this place with their mind, at least. Leaning back a little further, he continues As far as an upper limit? Huh, I really don't know. We haven't run into anyone whose powers are really...big, though, y'know? I mean, there was a guy who could make fireballs about the size of a baseball and a dude who could make someone he was talking to like him - took a while to get him handcuffed, heh - but that's about it, y'know? No guys who could blow up a whole world, no guys who could mind control a whole city. The dudes we've caught so far seem to be pretty...I dunno, contained. They can affect stuff near them maybe, but nothing huge. Well, not yet, anyway. Why, do you think there's bigger fish out there?


Lore

Heh, well, I guess the boss might be interested. Why, whaddya wanna share?


Gulerod

Four and a half city blocks later, the purposeful midget finds the destruction he's created. A high end clothing store's front window lies smashed, the mannequins within tumbled about and lying all over the place. Half in and half out of the front window, one female mannequin in a stylish lies complacently atop the heap of clothes and shattered glass, improbably accoutered with a frozen chicken as her new head.

A crowd is already starting to gather.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven

Even though he'd only been driving ten minutes, it felt like far longer.

Makes me wonder if it's a psycological effect of knowing that I can now cross town far more rapidly on foot.

Stopping off at his appartment, he rapidly changed clothes, dressing in a far more urban and inconspicuous fashion. He packed a bag with a change of clothes and his costume, just in case.

It barely occured to him until after he'd emerged back into the bright morning sun that he'd never bothered to turn on the lights in his place...once again.

I wonder what old Chief Spirit Wolf would think of me know? What he'd call me...Wendigo? Probably, or something equally horrible and entirely incorrect. We live in the twenty-first century, and people are still just as superstitious as ever.
Even people with abilites beyond the ken of the mortals they once were.

I should write a book.

With that accomplished, he set out into downtown, bag over shoulder, walking purposefully, but casually, towards the commercial district.

He needed to buy a few things.

Ok, Day 4, post 2, I'm excited. So, first stop is going to be a tailor...but I'm ok with the unexpected. :smallbiggrin: