Heritage

"Well, that's one way of putting it." Casey gestured towards the films the projectionist was holding. "There's somebody in all the movies; just for a few frames each time, but he's definitely in there. He looks like a clown in tattered clothes holding up a sign that says 'please help'." She shrugged, clearly at a loss. "I don't know if he's the perp, an innocent bystander or an accomplice who got left behind, but whoever he is, he's still in there, in several different movies. If we end up going into 'Movieland' or whatever it is, we need to make sure we have a way back, and that we don't get stuck."

Casey got dressed as quickly as she could at normal speed, leaving her jeans and T-shirt in the locker; she never expected to see them again (she bought everything at one of outlet malls in Delaware), so she blew Kenny a kiss before closing her locker, pulling down the brim of her Philips C&L cap, and sauntering back out into the front office, still chewing her gum. "You got something for me to sign?" She made a vague pen-waving gesture with her hand.

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem!" Miracle Girl rose up into the air and headed out over the water; she quickly dunked under the surface at one point to clean up a bit, the rushing wind from the rest of the flight mostly drying her off by the time she reached the tug. Landing outside the wheelhouse, Casey waved as she opened the door. "Hi, I'm Miracle Girl; nice to meet you!" She offered the pilot a firm handshake. "Thank you so much for doing this; I really appreciate it." Looking around the small cabin, she rolled her sleeves back down and tucked her bandana back in her belt. "Make sure you've got all your stuff. Also, how are you with heights? Some people like to go up high for the view, but we can stay low if that would freak you out."

-I think we might have spooked him.- -Well unfortunately, that is a frequent side effect of paranoia- -We should probably start talking again.- -Yep!- Turning to look at their customer once again, both women smiled warmly; well, one woman tried to, but really wasn't very good at it, so it came out more like an uncertain grimace. Lynn, however, was much more successful, and when she spoke her voice was like warm butterscotch. "Why, magic, of course!" She gestured towards a poster on the wall, a colorful broadside depicting 'The Amazing Al-Kazar', wearing a tuxedo, golden turban and a stylish cape. The poster showed several scenes from his act, including a levitating woman, the magician thrusting several swords into a large wicker basket, and a tiger surrounded by an aura of flames. "Ira Silberman opened this store in 1946 after he retired from the stage, and ever since that day, those fascinated by the unusual and bizarre have been welcomed within these walls." Her voice ringed with pride and theatricality. "I myself have dabbled in the Arts Mysterious from time to time. Please observe!" The lovely young proprietor flicked her wrist, and a beautiful Japanese paper fan appeared, seemingly out of thin air. -What are you doing.- -Having some harmless fun.- -Yippee.- Lynn fluttered the fan in front of her face a few times while adopting the demure expression of a geisha; then she held out her left hand in close fist, which she struck three times with the fan. Finally she threw her hand up in the air, and a cloud of flower petals exploded overhead, gently falling over the young man's head and shoulders. Then she closed her hands over the folded fan, collapsing it down to nothing as she turned her empty palms upwards. "See? Magic!"

Grimalkin/Shrike (19) [Maxed] Dreadful Dares (1) Hot Time, Summer in the City (11) Such A Cozy Room (6) The Box of Delights (1) Miracle Girl (16) Dark Dealings (6) Lights, Camera, Action! (6) The Alternative Revenue Job (1) The Young Woman and the Sea (3) All points to MG

I don't think I made it clear in my last post, but even though it's full of dirt, the crate has no top, which Casey hopes will divert any explosion up and away from anyone close by.

Casey looked positively delighted at the sight of Gatorade, giving the man a gleeful smile. "Yes! Thank you so much!" She popped the top off (she was too thirsty to bother with twisting), and then proceeded to guzzle the blue liquid in one long go, followed by a rather unladylike burp. "Oh, excuse me! I really needed that." She then crumpled the bottle into a tiny ball and stuck it into a belt pouch for later disposal. "All right, back to work." The teenage powerhouse floated over to the containment crate and grabbed a pair of chains she'd crisscrossed over it, lifting the whole thing up into the air. With the barge finally in place, it was just a matter of flying it over, transfering the chains to the explosives-filled container, and then ever so carefully floating it over and into the crate, and finally covering it all with more dirt. When it was finally time to pick up the container, Miracle Girl addressed everyone present as she adjusted the straps on her gloves. "Okay, unless you're with the bomb squad, I need everyone to get off the dock...and if the squad wants to take a few steps back, well, I honestly don't blame them." An interesting fact about Casey's powers: in most ways, she wasn't very different from any other physically active young woman. It was the strange golden bioenergy field that her body generated that made her do strong and durable. When she was at rest or only moderately active, you could hardly see it beyond what looked like a healthy glow. If she was exherting herself a lot more, it shone a bit brighter. Right now, it almost looked like Casey was on fire, her body sheathed in golden flames as she strained to lift the container, the thick chains taut as she gently floated the metal box over to the barge and slowly lowered it into the waiting crate. Once it was in place, she let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, I think the hardest part is over!"

This was all so weird, but that was to be expected nowadays; nothing in Casey's life had been normal since she got her powers. "I...think so? Maybe. I don't know." She turned to face her 'partner', shaking her head. "Okay, so the way I see it, there are three possibilities here. One, it's another guise of the kidnapper, and he's trying to trick us. Two, he's an innocent bystander who somehow got sucked into Movieworld and needs our help to get out. Three, he has same the powers as our bad guy and somehow got mixed up in all this, like maybe an accomplice and they had a falling out." The blonde heroine frowned. "Though I guess...I guess there's a fourth option; he could be a character from the Movieworld who sort of 'woke up', and now wants to get out." Then her eyes went really wide. "Hey, maybe our bad guy is from the Movieworld, too! Maybe he woke and realized he's a made-up character, and swore revenge on the 'real' people who he thinks are oppressing him or something! Like Judge Doom in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" She clutched her head and winced. "Oooooooh, there's so many possibilities! Either way, we need tell Doctor Deoxy and the others what we found." She grabbed a handful of cold cuts and stuffed them in her mouth as she started to run. "Cun ah!"

Lynn frowned slightly as Gretchen began to head back towards the bar; they exchanged a meaningful glance as she did so. "Isn't that...a lot of caffiene for one morning? I know Generation Z has coffee in its veins, but it's usually not so literal." Gretchen merely pursed her lips and shook her head as the milk hissed and the shots poured. "He's good. He can handle it." Meanwhile a somewhat different conversation was going on at a telepathic level. -You can see why I was intrigued.- -No s###; this kid ain't normal!- -He's also a member of the No Sweat Club, like us. And that's after six shots of espresso, going on eight.- -Whaddya think, speedster?- -Could be. He's putting out enough heat to roast marshmallows. That could be a thing.- -Good guy or bad guy?- -Mmmm. Tough call. Charming and artistic, likes to help others, unless he's lying.- -Sooooo, you're leaning towards good guy.- -Or Robin Hood, which depends on who you ask. The Sherrif of Nottingham wanted his head.- -Good point.- The mental exchange was over in a matter of seconds, visible as only as a few looks between coworkers.

Ah, good point! Carry on!

I wouldn't mind a bit more RP between Casey and Crow, but maybe cut to them already in the van?

Miracle Girl would make an excellent Good Cop

"Ohhhhhh, group hug!" In a flash, Lynn had her arms around Sam's torso to give him a good squeeze; noticing Gretch was not getting in on it, she turned her partner and tsked. "C'mon; you, too. This is a compulsory group hug." The snarky barista rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well if you're going to browbeat me..." She reluctantly toddled on over, but though her contribution was half-assed at first, she finally committed to it, and for a few awkward yet blissful seconds, Sam was trapped in warm ball of love. "Aaaaaaand, release!" Both ladies stepped back to give the conjurer some space, Lynn beaming while Gretch looked a bit flustered, uncomfortable as she was with overt displays of affection. "So, how soon can you move in? If we cheat and use magic, we could probably have all your stuff over here in less than hour, though that might raise a few eyebrows."

Okay, that's the crate built! For the sake of sanity, gonna break this into sections; in the next post, we'll fly the crate over to the barge, add the dirt, and then...move the container (gasp!) Let me know if that will involve any rolls. Edit: for the record, based on my calculations, Casey essentially did the work of five men working three eight-hour days in just over a minute

"That should do it," said Casey with an enthusiastic nod as she looked over all materials collected before her. Then she paused to take in the faces of all the concerned, hard-working people who had already done so much to help her. "Thank you all so much! Seriously, you're all amazing! Now if you could please step back and give me some room, I'll get to work." Once everyone was clear, Miracle Girl rolled up the sleeves of her costume, twisted her hair up into a braid, put on a blue bandana and slipped on a pair of safety goggles. She gave the bomb squad a thumbs up and a nervous smile, pulled out a stopwatch and clicked it...and then began to live up to her name. In a flash, Casey was gone; there was only a blur of red, blue and gold, and the rushing wind of her passing. And like a time-lapse film in real life, the great wooden container began to materialize: first the bottom appeared like a long, thin checkerboard, each pallet appearing, twitching from side to side and then being fixed in place by several crosspieces. Then the walls appeared, one section at a time as they methodically snaked their way around the structure. Nails were driven as fast as machine gun bullets, their staccato rat-a-tat-tat punctuating Casey's progress as clouds of sawdust drifted over and covered the onlookers. And then, it was done. Casey reappeared and clicked her stopwatch again, then pulled off her goggles and wiped her face with the back of a gloved hand. "One minute, twenty-three seconds; not bad." Her uniform was damp with sweat, and she was covered from head to toe with grime and sawdust. She paused to look over at her handiwork, then nodded. "Okay, looks good." Then she turned to the workers and sighed. "Does anyone have any Gatorade?"

Miracle Girl did a few quick stretches as the bomb disposal officer clarified her simple plan, occasionally nodding as he spoke; this was going to be a lot harder than building bridges like she did in Girl Scouts, though the basic carpentry would in many ways be similar. Once the basics of the plan were laid out, she turned to the dock supervisor. "Sir, I'm going to need tools, specifically carpentry tools; hammers, drills, saws, nail guns, whatever you have. I can work with power tools, but old-fashioned muscle-powered ones might even be better, due to my super-speed. And I'm aftaid I'll probably have to use a lot of pallets to build this thing." She began to pace out an area on the dock a bit larger than the hazardous container; she already had a pretty good idea what the finished crate would look like. "I can build it here, but we'll need a barge to tow it away from land; I'll fly the empty box over to the barge, we add some dirt, I fly the container full of explosives over, we add some more dirt, then we're ready to roll. Can you help make that happen?"

Considering the situation, it feels like a time to take the risks of a roll. 1d20+5=19 With thank God paid off!

The kid was obviously super-brainy, so Gretchen decided not to hold back; she recalled from her own 'gifted' childhood how annoying it was when adults talked down to her, so she would play him as an equal. In fact, with a superheroine for a mom, there was a good chance lil' Lawrence was already smarter than she ever would be. The one thing she did have going for her was experience, so hopefully that would carry her through to victory. Based on Black's first move, Gretch opted for the Sicilian Defense, as she found an aggressive stance served her well, but only time would tell if the risks would reap rewards. "Do you like music?" - - - "Oh, I wished they'd had special schools like that in Otherworld; we mostly ended up homeschooling ours, at least until they hit the middle school years. Of course, Jon-Jon ended up in military school, and he turned out to be...well, things didn't go so well." Not wanting to dwell on her own parenting failures, Lynn preferred to change the subject as she continued working the grill. "Have you at least figured out where the wedding's gonna be held? Here or in England?"

Lynn actually looked a bit crestfallen at that, but she quickly recovered. "Well, to each his own; I love to read, but I don't get to read nearly as much as I'd like to. " "I think he's here for the coffee, free Wi-Fi and scintillating conversation," offered Gretchen. "Ah yes, those are three things we can provide! Our fiber-optic connection provides the best connection speeds in the neighborhood, and we work with an amazing local roaster to-" Then the owner stopped herself and gave her partner a quizzical look. "Wait, you were providing 'scintillating conversation'? You don't even like talking to people." Gretchen shrugged like it was no big thing. "I do if they're actually interesting. Most people are boring. Mr. Bauer isn't." "Wow," said Lynn as she shook her head in disbelief. "You don't know it yet, but you just received a huge compliment, Cass; this girl is hard to impress."

"'The boss'? Is that...," Grim barely managed to ask. She wasn't she could handle some weird kind of family reunion right now. "If it's a giant, floating green head, I'm going straight for the curtain," declared Gretchen as she shook her head. "I've got no time for smoke and mirrors right now." "So, what do we call you, " asked the changeling as she continued following the strange woman.

Lynn eagerly took the check, kissed it, and then stuffed it in her pocket. "'Well alright, fellas; let's go!'" Hopping up out of her chair, she rubbed her hands together with anticipation, while Gretchen merely stood up and stuck her hands in her back pockets, though a small, crooked grin was still visible. "Oh, wait, we have to do this right; trust us!" She made a sort of lasso gesture with her finger, and a blindfold wrapped itself around Sam's eyes. Then, taking his right hand while Gretch took the other, they carefully led him down the back stairs towards the yard. "No peeking!" After coming down the clompy wooden stairs, Sam briefly heard and felt grass under his feet, then he was gently guided (it felt) somewhere around the side of the house. There was a rattle of keys and metal, and then a wooden door of some kind swung open on creaky hinges. "You won't have to this every time," Gretchen assured him off to his left."Boss Lady just loves to be dramatic. Watch your head." A few years ago, Sam would never have allowed himself to be put in this situation, and a small part of him still cringed a bit with fear. But if these two ladies who'd already done so much for him now had sinister plans, they were running a very long con indeed. Concrete steps were now beneath his feet, and the air grew a bit cooler as he descended into what must be the basement of the store. Even through his eyelids and blindfold, Sam could tell it was getting darker; what were these two up to? Then they turned him around a few times, like he was playing Blind Man's Bluff, and there was the sound of another key turning in a lock. "Okay, now two steps forward!" Whatever room he was entering felt drier than the rest of the basement, and smelled slightly musty with hints of sawdust, furniture polish, some sort of oil and metal. "Aaaaand, open!" He felt the blindfold disappear like a cool breeze across his eyes, and when he opened them... The three of them stood in the middle in a small room, maybe fifteen by twenty, lit by one small window high on the wall and an industrial light fixture in the ceiling. The floor was concrete under a thick Persian rug, and three of the four walls were dominated by bookshelves, though they were only about half full. There was an old-fashioned pot belly stove in one corner, a high-backed leather chair, and a massive worktable and small sink up against the far wall. The table...was covered with magical paraphernalia. There was a spice rack filled with a wide variety of herbs, a mortar and pestle, glassware and a Bunsen burner, precision tools for fashioning charms, and a dozen other odd objects waiting to be used and explored. As Sam gazed in amazement at the wonders before him, he was vaguely aware of Lynn's voice off to his right. "Remember I said I had a friend who was a vodun priestess? She helped us set it up. She didn't consecrate it to the loa or anything; she said you'd need to do that yourself, align it with your own powers. Gretchen took two weeks to restore the stove; had to teach herself how." "Getting the flue set up right so you don't asphyiate yourself was a bitch and a half. You owe me big time for that." When he was finally able to turn around to face them, Sam found the two lovely ladies standing side by side holding each other's hands; Lynn had the biggest tearful smile on her face, and even Gretchen looked almost moved. "So...do you like it?"

So here were the two 'nutjobs' who hired Cole and his moronic buddies, as well as mook who stayed behind. Time to do a little recon. Gretch mimed lifting up her hood, pointed at the ground, and then pointed at her eyes, and then waved her fingers outward, attempting to indicate scouting. She then lifted up her hood, rendering her invisible, and then floated down to the floor before creeping forward to get a better lay of the land.

Casey was very relieved that she'd made the right call, but that didn't get them any closer to taking care of the explosives. "Okay, so we need to find a way to move them safely off this dock." She scanned the area, looking to see what materials were on hand that might be repurposed to handle the situation, when her eyes fell on a stack of wooden pallets some distance away. "What if we had a container big enough to hold the container that was filled with some sort energy-absorbing material, like I don't know, sand or clay or dirt? Then we place that on a barge and tow it out to sea?" The blonde teen pointed at the stack of pallets. "I'm very strong and very fast, plus I'm good with tools; I could maybe hammer something together, unless you can think of something else that's already around that we can use."

Yuck. Sadly, Casey was getting used to skeezy guys checking her out, but that didn't mean she had to like it. But she kept her distaste off her face, nodded and smiled again. "Okay, thanks!" She dutifully went in and found the appropriate uniform in her size; most days, she used her super-speed to dress in the blink of an eye, but to maintain her cover, she'd have to do so at normal speed, which had never made her more uncomfortable than today. That guy better not be a creeper!

'Appy birfday, mate!