Heritage

Lynn is an FCU student and enjoys the arts, so she's a possible guest.

"That's not a bad idea," murmured Gretchen, and she ran to fetch a Thermos full of joe. Once she came back, she climbed in next to the fragrant Flintlock (Lynn's vault was small) and the changeling shut the portal. It was only a few seconds later that it reopened, revealing a large fenced-in enclosure, somewhere in the Pine Barrens, most likely; the tops of several pitch pines were visible rising over the fence. It appeared to be a sort of junkyard, but with a purpose; all the junked cars, concrete pipes and ancient refrigerators were carefully arranged to form a obstacle course, firing range and other useful training environments. A silver trailer on one side seemed to be set up as some sort of control booth, and scaffolding supporting spotlights and speakers around the fencing conveyed a somewhat arena-like feel. "Alright, we're here. Where should we set up?"

Gretchen laughed as she traced her fingers over the surface of a trunk, feeling the think layer of shipping stickers. "Of course, she's dangerous. Everybody is...which is why I generally try to avoid people. Put enough beer in anyone's gut and then hand them a hammer, anybody can hurt you." But then she paused and looked more thoughtful. "But if you mean does her faerie nature make her more dangerous than anyone else, that's a tougher question." Gretch reached down and lifted up the padlock that kept the trunk's contents safe from prying eyes, cocking her head to one side; then she crouched down and touched the ring to the metal, her eyes closed in concentration. "Lynn told me she went evil once, her mind controlled by someone she trusted...and looked up to, like a father. She said her team defeated him before...they did any real harm, but she never forgot that feeling, that she was capable of doing anything, no matter how terrible." There was a soft click, and the padlock was open, much to her satisfaction. "There we go! So ever since then, she's always kept a bunch of iron around, usually locked up secure, and taught the people she cared about how to use it." She flipped open the catches, then paused to look up into Sam's eyes. "She taught her kids how to use it. She taught her own kids how to kill her if they had to." Then she stood up and grabbed the edge of the lid with both hands. "So to answer your question, yes, she probably is dangerous. But someone who values the lives of others highly enough that she wants them to know how to kill her, that says something." With a firm yank, the lid came open, and the smells of old fabric and mothballs filled the small room. "We have costumes! And no, don't ask me about her kids. That's something you have to take up with Boss Lady."

Lynn Epstein's Apartment. Saturday, June 18th, 2016. 2pm. It was a very mild and pleasant late spring day; there was no need to run the AC, so instead Lynn and Gretchen had just opened all the windows and turned on all the ceiling fans, so that cool breezes and succulent cooking smells wafted through every room. The weekend before, Gretch had offically moved in, and at her insistence the apartment now possessed real live, actual furniture; some of them were ancient hand-me-down pieces that once bellonged to her late grandmother back in Maine, all dark, massive and brooding. Others were recent additions from the Ikea out in Ashton, which they had bought together, because that's what couples do. It took a while to get used to, but Lynn was starting to enjoy the smell of history on the old stuff pleasantly mixing with the new stuff that smelled of dorm rooms and promise. What was a bit harder to get used to were Gretchen's ferrets, Otto and Bosco; they tore around the apatment like they were rats on crack, their long, loping bodies wriggling into every corner imaginable, terrifying Lynn's three cats DB, Mafia and Plaque Attack, who currently spent most of their time hiding out in the bedroom. The ferret cage stood in one corner of the living room, a symbol of the end of the Era of Feline Domination. Out on the rear deck was the Weber grill that Gretchen had also insisted on, which was having its trial run this weekend; it hadn't been fired up just yet, because Lynn wanted everyone to have a little time to have a drink and kibbitz. As for the couple themselves, each was representing their unique stylistic tastes. Lynn wore sandals, a short denim skirt and a creamy, sleeveless cotton blouse; her hair was up and out of the way, indicating that she was both hard at work and comfortable enough with the guests to reveal her pointed ears. Meanwhile, Gretchen wore boots, loose cut jeans and a black vintage Lou Reed t-shirt; surprisingly, her hair was also up, showing a rare glimpse of her graceful neck. The two women worked together smoothly like a well-oiled machine, a machine that frequently stopped to smile or affectionatly touch a shoulder. Their guests would be here soon.

Casey was listening intently as Saku laid out what the future held, nodding every now and then; she liked what shevwas hearing, though the bit about her friend bring genetically engineered in uturo was kind of creepy. She seemed to take it in stride; maybe that's normal for super-smart parents? "We should make sure the ship has a Soyuz docking module, and any other standard airlocks anyone's currently using, so we can be hood at rescues. Or could you make, like, a universal adapter that can reconfigure itself to different styles?" She paused, seemingly surprised by her own idea. "Wow; you should probably patent that if you make one. That could make usus some more money!"

Is there anything close a hand, preferably metalic, that she can throw like a projectile? She's hoping to take one out at range, without revealing her exact location if possible.

I'd like a chance to set the scene at the other end of the teleport, if only for your benefit. This is definitely a time where Gretchen's flight and telepathic link will come in handy.

There hadn't been a lot of chit-chat as the group wandered about; everyone was mostly too busy being paranoid and freaked out for small talk. But finally Gretchen of all people broke the silence. "We're doing this the wrong way." That stopped Grim dead in her tracks, and she put her hands on her hips. "How'dya mean?" "We're looking for an exit, for the quick and easy way out, but this place has an agenda. I think it wants to show us something first. Then after that, maybe it will let us go." "What does it want to show us?" Gretch held up her hands and snorted. "I have no idea! But this mirror belonged to your great-grandfather, right? Maybe it's linked to your family somehow. Maybe all you have to do is listen to what it's trying to tell you." Then she chuckled and shook her head, like she couldn't believe what she was about to say. "Listen to the magic." Lynn nodded as she looked around; it did make a certain sort of sense. Magic often had a will of its own, and sometimes you couldn't fight it; sometimes, you had to let go of your ego and let it do its thing. "Okay...okay, we'll try it your way. And if this works out, you're getting a big fat raise, Gretch." That actually got a sincere laugh from the young barista. "I'm getting two raises, Boss Lady. I got one the minute I broke your stupid mirror and got sucked in here." "Touché, touché. Alright, let's see how this works." And then Lynn just closed her eyes and listened...

"I hardly weigh a thing," Shrike admitted. She eyed the group critically. "How exactly does this work? If it involves the most awkward and creepy group hug ever, let's just get it over with as fast as possible." Then she cocked her head and peered at their informant. "What do we do with Cole Harkness and the others? Tie them up and leave them here, or drop them off somewhere first?"

Gretchen looked like she wanted to put the last volume Sam was holding away, but then she relented, seeing how much he needed to hold it right now. "I nearly died that night," she began as she hiked herself up onto one of the steamer trunks and had a seat, her booted feet idly dangling. "Some thugs who were into magic knew we had a scroll they wanted, and they came looking for it. With submachine guns, grenades and plastic explosives." Somehow, her tone was flatter and less emotional than even usual. "I was shot here," she intoned as she laid her hand over her stomach. "And was bleeding out, on the floor, right between New Arrivals and Our Picks of the Month. But, Lynn saved me. She always saves me." And then there was a sort of strangled gasp as just a hint of the roil of emotions that always surged beneath the young barista's dry, cynical exterior breached the surface, a small crack in her expertly-crafted facade. It was small and brief but deeply human, and therefore a little embarrassing to see. But then the walls were back up with a nearly-audible clang, and the little bitch was back with a smirk and a shake of her head. "Don't let her get to you, Sam I Am. She's good people, but she's still not really human. The faerie in her still likes her little games and torments, liked the Wicked Step-Sisters in Cinderella. She doesn't even realize she does it." Then she hopped down and dusted off her hands and butt. "The Amazing Al-Kazar has won this round, at least until we come back with reinforcements. Why don't we have a look at these trunks."

Lynn squinted at that last phrase. "'Two places at once'? Uh, that might be a bit challenging, but I've done stranger things with fae magic." Gretchen scowled. "You have? Actually, don't tell me." The changeling nodded. "Duly noted. So, what two places do we have to be at once? I can get us to the place to do the ritual like this-" She traced a circle in the air with her finger, and a portal opened in mid-air; beyond was a small, green place that looked an animal's burrow under the roots of a tree, its floor covered in soft pine needles. "You and Gretch go inside and get comfy, then I close the portal, teleport us there, and then reopen it there and let you guys out." She shrugged at the rum-soaked pirate lass. "Would that work for you?"

1d20+8=24 Hopefully that hits! DC 23 Toughness save.

Normally, Gretchen wasn't one to laugh out loud; she was more of a smirking girl, or even just going for the full-on deadpan approach. But the s### that was going on below her now? That was f###ing hilarious! At first, it was hard to tell if it was just more 'possessed twitching', seeing as she was still facing the ceiling, but then something between hysterical and maniacal laughter clearly began to shake her body as she slowly rolled over in midair to face her would-be assailants. The fact of the matter was, a large part of whst made all this so damned fun was the release of adrenaline, because part of Gretch knew she was that close to bring Vampire Chow mere seconds ago. "You frickin' idiots," she finally managed snort as she reached over and gave the Ring a twist; there was a weird, shuttery flashing of silver light that washed over her, like a projector breaking down, and then she was gloriously transformed into the Shrike, all black leather and silver topped with her black cloak and silver bird mask. And then her left fist shot out and crimson blast of energy streaked at Lord Douchebag with a deafening 'kra-KOW!'

Grimalkin/Shrike (31) [Maxed] A Performance to Die For (7) Black Heart of Dagon (3) I've Got A Golden Ticket (11) Late Night Out (2) Nothing Fancy, Just Hanging Out (6) The Box of Delights (2) Miracle Girl (5) Cold War Relics (1) Lights, Camera, Action! (2) The Reunion of a Scout and a Genius (2) All points to MG

I like it, Ari; reminds me of Wilson Fisk's plan to revitalize Hell's Kitchen A 'Lawful Evil' bad guy (for lack of a better term) who finds the city's lawlessness as offense as the heroes do, but for entirely different reasons, would help explain the sort of 'why does everyone love Lex Luthor' phenomenon that drives the good guys crazy. Also, welcome Kaige! So nice of you to step into the light

I'd vote to make it Milwaukee-ish, with North pointing to the right of the map, placing the city on the North and South shores of a river feeding into Lake Michigan.

I think the big question I would have is, can the PCs make a difference? Is the setting at all dynamic where the heroes can actually create change, no matter how small, or are their efforts doomed from the start? Can they hope to clean up the town, or is it more like the movie Se7en where Morgan Freeman knows it won't make a real difference, but does his job anyway? Based on your and AA's recommendations, I purchased both the main book and Straight Out Of Bedlam at Drive-Thru RPG, Shaen, and so far I like what I see!

Elysian Academy hints at this, at least in the Player's Guide.

Okay, I now have the EC pdfs courtesy of Drive-Thru RPG; Steel Shogun looks like a good character to spin mine off of, so I will probably do that.

Pacific Northwest feels right to me.

That could work! I think I have a pdf of Emerald City lying around somewhere; will look up Steel Shogun and start working on her.

I had an idea awhile ago for a character thst might work well in Emerald, a young girl who was the daughter of a Yakuza and dying of an incurable disease; her father obtained some black market nanobots that cured her but also made her into a living, adaptable machine that could assume many shapes. Might need to dig that concept up...

To quote Hermes from Futurama, "That just raises MORE questions!"

Ah, okay. So no way they can hear her, but somehow she heard HIM? Interesting...

Robinson's run on Starman is still, to me, the best use of one of DC's made-up cities I've ever seen. Back when I was planning one writing a Grimalkin comic, Opal City was going to be a MAJOR inspiration for my own Lake City; the sense of history and feeling of the Golden Age yet slightly tarnished still drives me gaga. I've always felt that the early, 'William Gibson & Friends' version of cyberpunk was never captured in rpgs; they always focused too much on the pink mohawks and mirrorshades and not enough on the casual repurposing of tech in the streets, which to me whole was the whole point. So yes, a bit techy and Asian without full-on SR sounds awesome to me.