Heritage

A rare case of flying stealth! Stealth check: 1d20+10=22

The two men were on the move! Casey kept her vision in the IR, because it really made them stand out, especially on a winter night like tonight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a white hot flare, which alarmed her, but she had her orders and was sticking to them. Even in a city full of superheroes, you'd be surprised how many bad guys didn't look up, but there were always exceptions; she was actually a fairly quiet flier, but her bioenergy field did glow, so the blonde heroine did her best not to be seen.

For Shrike: 1d20+2=5 I would love for her to actually roll in double digits someday; I hear it's pretty cool

Shrike took to the air and spread her cloak like a pair of wings, a favorite pose. "I'm thinking budget cuts are to blame. People always cut the 'non-essential' positions to save their bottom line, which just comes back and bites you in the ass." Following one possible line of reasoning, she took a shot with the Ring of Power at the thug who cursed, under the hypothesis that the most verbal of the bunch might be the leader. She was still working on her aim in the real world ; that her ace FPS skills had yet to translate despite loads of practice was a source of constant irritation, but bare minimum even a missed mystical zap at least unnerved most criminals. The ring flashed brighly, firing a hot red beam in his direction with a loud 'kra-KOW!'

Blast: 1d20+8=10 Dear lord, I get the worst rolls for this girl! Almost always in the low single digits On the off-chance she hits, she's going for the one who spoke, DC 23 Toughness save.

Sorry about sporadic posting; school is getting intense, I'm still adjusting to the new store, and now the revelation that we need to be out of our apartment by the end of the month all havr me going in circles. But I'm still very much around and will try and get caught up as I can.

Gretchen wasn't having too great a time, either; though a bit more comfortable in this sort of crowd due to her relative youth, the club and DJ still sucked royally. She also had to raise her voice over the din. "Yeah, it could be a prank, but you start to develop a kind of sixth sense for those. Ironically, those tend to have more specific language. They want it sound legit, or they want you to show up at a specific time so they can record it on their cellphone. Or both. Vagueness can also indicate fear, because they're afraid if they're too specific, it can be traced back to them." Of course, she'd had to learn all this empirically by showing up for a lot of bad tips; many of the pranksters were disappointed when the Shrike showed up instead of Grim, who was 'way hotter', and less likely to use her powers to leave their precious smartphones up on a roof. "Tell you what. If this turns out to be a bum tip and the band sucks half as much as I think it will, we go all Pete Townsend and trash the place. Deal?"

The Bonds of Affection Miracle Girl US Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, CO. Saturday, February 13th, 2016, 10:45 am. Josh wouldn't go into specifics over the phone; he was just really insistent about seeing his sister over Valentine's Day weekend. That in and off itself was rather odd, as he'd never had much use for the holiday growing up. He'd always had girlfriends in high school, but he usually complained bitterly about the 'made up' holiday and the expectations of gifts and dinner reservations. Still, Casey adored her big brother, and didn't mind an excuse for a cross-country trip, so she was up early that morning, quickly packing an overnight bag and making sure the straps were secure before taking off into the February sky. At just over seventeen hundred miles, Colorado Springs was typically a three and a half hour flight for her, though she could do it in just under three if she pushed herself, which she certainly did today being so curious about what Josh had to say that couldn't be said over the phone. She touched down discreetly right by the airport, so she could take a shuttle bus to the academy like a normal person; Josh met her at the North Gate and gave her his best attempt at a crushing hug, which she eagerly reciprocated. "Mmmmm, it's so good to see you!" "You, too, Case! How was your flight?" "It was good! Hit a little turbulence over Kansas, but nothing major." She noted another cadet standing somewhat sheepishly nearby, a good-looking African-American boy with big, warm eyes, and offered him a friendly smile. "Who's this?" "Sorry, yeah! Casey, this is my friend Mitch Anderson from Kalamazoo, Michigan; Mitch, this is my little sister, 'Head Case'." The blonde powerhouse rolled her eyes as she shook the offered hand. "Stoooop! Nice to meet you, Mitch." "Nice to meet you, too! Josh is always going on about you." "Oh! All good stuff, I hope!" "Nah, mostly about the iron grip you held over the local Girl Scout cookie racket." Casey laughed as she shouldered up her bag again. "Okay, that is true; I ran this town like my own 'Boardwalk Empire'!" Jason smiled and seemed to sigh with relief, though his sister was unsure why. "So, uh, breakfast?" The Claremont student nodded vigorously. "Yes! Anytime, anywhere!" At the cadet dining hall, Mitch raised his eyebrows a bit at the simply huge pile of eggs, pancakes, sausage and toast Casey loaded onto her plate, though her brother took it in stride. The three had a very genial conversation about school, the Air Force, Michigan versus Colorado winters, and Casey's life in Freedom (all discussion of heroics aside); finally, the visitor from the East Coast couldn't bare it any longer. "Okay, so what was so important that you couldn't talk about it over the phone? Inquiring minds want to know!" "Right, right..." For the first time she could remember, Casey's big brother looked uncertain; his glance flickered nervously between Casey and Mitch, who merely nodded. Josh took a deep breath, them let it out slowly. "Okay, uh, here goes: I am in a relationship-" "That's great!" He reached out and firmly grasped the hand of the young man next to him, who had tears in his eyes. "With Mitch." There was a long pause as Casey sat there for several seconds, mouth open and forkfull of pancakes frozen in midair. "Um..." She set the fork aside, wiped her mouth with her napkin, and closed her eyes; she could feel the blood rushing into her cheeks. "I, uh-" When she opened her eyes again, she saw something in Josh's face she'd never seen before: fear. The fear that his little sister, whom he adored, might reject him now that he'd revealed this important truth about himself. And in that moment, she hated herself for hesitating, for putting that fear into his eyes and heart. There wasn't even a question that she still loved him and embraced every part of him; he was freakin' Josh. "That...is awesome." She reached over and took her brother's hand, nearly crushing it in a vice grip of love. "That is freaking awesome." Then she looked over at her brother's boyfriend and smiled through her tears. "It's nice to meet you, Mitch."

Knowledge: Technology roll: 1d20+10=13 Blast roll: 1d20+8=15 DC 23 Toughness save.

Well that's just horrifying. Apparently she'd finally reached horror overload, because Gretch was kind of numb to the carnage now as she swooped into the room, doing her best to keep clear of the floor. She squinted her eyes slightly and did her best to convince herself none of this was real; it was all just pixels on a screen, and she had exactly two jobs: destroy the portal, and keep an eye on the flier. With those in mind, she began to open fire on the machinery, trying to see any possible weak spots or power cords that might be more vulnerable to her blasts.

"Well I should hope so," continued Shrike nonchalantly. "I'd hate to think I was your fi-" Her remarks were cut off by the blast of water slamming her backwards to bounce off the hood of a car and onto the ground. For a few horrifying seconds, she just lay there, her fate uncertain, but then she lifted up her head and yelled, "Time!" The music abruptly stopped as the young heroine rose shakily to her feet; Butch called out from the trailer, "Kid, you alright?" She stood with her hands on her hips for a few seconds to catch her breath, then nodded and gave a thumbs up. Finally she rose into the air to rejoin Presto, wobbling very slightly; when she got closer, he could see she had a bit of a fat lip, but before he had a chance to say anything, she held up a gloved finger. "I am fine. If you're going to spar with women, you have to get used to hurting them now and then; we're tougher than we look. That being said, why don't you and I team up against the Faerie Menace?" She indicated the air behind him with a nod. "Because she's back, and this time, it's personal." A shadow fell over the floating wizard, cast by rather large object falling towards him; behind it, a maniacal little pixie, no taller than a foot in height, hovered in the air on gossamer wings, screaming at the top of her tiny lungs and dressed like the world's smallest paratrooper. "Death from above!"

I have a major midterm tomorrow and two big papers due, so I'll be scarce for the next day or so.

Some Adjustments (Grimalkin and the Shrike) February, 2016 It started the day of the Goodman incursion. Gretchen told Lynn she'd drop by the store later that day, but she never showed; she didn't even respond to mental sendings, which was very alarming. She sent her senses into every piece of glamour she could think of in a two hundred miles radius, but still nothing; the changeling was beyond distraught. She's dead, lying in a ditch somewhere, just like Mom always said. And somehow it's my fault. She sat in her living room, practically pulling out her hair with anxiety, when she smelled fresh blood with just a hint of sandalwood soap, the same kind Gretch used, and it was close by. She followed her nose out onto the weird little patio between the two apartments. "Gretch, is that you? Are you okay?" Suddenly Gretchen threw back her hood and appeared hunched forward in one of the garden chairs, staring off into space; she reeked of blood and several other body fluids. "I didn't want...the blood. Inside." Lynn's eyes went wide with shock and terror. "Holy s###, what happened?!" It took a while to pry the truth out of her assistant, who was deeply traumatized and practically catatonic. The changeling went into full-on Mom Mode, getting Gretchen into first a long hot shower and then an even longer hot bath. Afterwards a huge fluffy bathrobe, roaring fire and a hot whisky toddie awaited her, and she passed out on the sofa in a matter of seconds. Then came the duffel bag. It held a change of clothes, toothbrush and a bar of sandalwood soap, and it became a permanent resident in Lynn's guest room. She'd forgotten how much she missed cooking breakfast for someone, or doing the New York Times crossword puzzle over coffee. Gretchen didn't stay over every night, just if she'd had a rough time patrolling, or inventory took longer than expected, or they drank too much wine on Movie Night. It was just once or twice a week. Then three or four. Then every weekend. And then came the question. "What are we doing here?" Gretchen looked up from her book in her chair by the fire and looked around; Lynn was sitting on the sofa across from her, holding a cup of tea. The young barista cocked her head and peered across at her boss. "What do you mean?" "I mean, somehow we've managed to become a couple without actually being, y'know, a couple..." Gretchen blinked and set aside her book. "So what, exactly, do you want to see happen here? Do you...want to be a couple?" Lynn shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know...maybe? I've never..." "Been with a girl before." "No...I mean, yeah." The younger woman rubbed her face with her hands. "Oooookay, if this is something you want to explore or consider, we are in absolutely no rush to do anything. I have to admit, I would...love that, but I would never push you in any way. We can move with glacial slowness, and if things don't work out, then they don't work out, okay? No one's feelings need to be hurt." The faerie clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. "I just...know I like spending time with you; that's the one thing I know." Gretchen smiled, possibly the warmest smile she'd ever smiled. "And I like spending time with you." She picked up her book and indicated the sofa with a nod. "May I join you?" Lynn nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah! Totally!" She scooched over, simultaneously thrilled, terrified and deeply embarrassed; her whole head felt like a thermal beacon you could see from space. Gretchen gently settled in next to her, their hips barely touching, for once the more confident of the two in a social situation. "Just relax. Drink your tea, and enjoy this moment." "Okay. Okay." Little by little, she felt the butterflies fade, though they didn't disappear completely; she'd be unhappy if they did. Then Gretchen shifted and laid her head on Lynn's chest, her torso lying along hers, and an explosion of happiness rumbled deep in her heart. And the ageless changeling was just a girl who felt loved, for the first time in a long time.

Grim yelped in surprise as she found herself well and truly trapped! Looking up at Presto, she did her best to snarl, though she was obviously trying to keep from laughing. "Curse you, conjurer! But it will take more than a little breeze to stop me!" She squinted her eyes in concentration, and then her body collapsed in on itself and vanished, leaving nothing for Samuel's winds to hold onto. Meanwhile Shrike took to the air as well, her cloak billowing around her as she floated thirty feet in the air. "Yeah, she does that. Her range is a few hundred miles, so she could be pretty much anywhere, but I doubt it. She's lurking around here somewhere." She gestured towards a pile of rusted autos, and a massive engine block came sailing in Presto's directon as she smirked. "My turn."

"Oh," said Casey as she thought about that. "So, do you have any friends you can talk to about, you know, super stuff?" The truth was, Casey really didn't have any close friends at school anymore either, since Saku had gone back to Japan. She often came off as very outgoing, but her actual friend circle was usually pretty small. At least she could talk to her family about school and stuff.

"Glad you like it." Grimalkin was beaming, clearly delighted to finally share her playground with an outsider. "I've known Butch for years, and the property belongs to his family, but no one was doing anything with it. I designed the course, Shrike did the heavy lifting-" And here Gretchen showed off her glowing ring with a flourish. "And she and Butch took care of the mechanical and electrical elements. So, a true team effort." Then she called out to the masked man in the booth. "Yeah, can we have a different track for our guest? I see where you were going with it, but it is just a little insensitive. C'mon, give us something we can dance to!" Butch bowed his head sagaciously. "I am a DJ, I am what I play." There was a pause, then a familiar pulsing synth beat began to shake the air. "This track goes out to all the boppers; may the best. Man. Win!" Test your might! Test your might! Test your might! Test your might! MORTAL KOMBAT! And suddenly Grim was leaping in the air towards Presto, her fingertips glittering with jet black, razor sharp claws, and a maniacal grin on her face. "FIGHT!" For her part, Shrike just smirked and shook her head as she raised her fists in a basic attack stance. "Yeah, she's insane."

Lynn nodded and grinned as she started walking again. "Okay, cool! Let's make this happen!" Then she rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. "Hmm; I'd like to bring along some gifts, y'know, for you guys and the kids. Any suggestions? Dos or definitely don'ts?" She knew that she and Jack would probably never be good friends; they were too different, though in some ways very similar as well. But she could be gracious, respectful and turn her judgemental side down to two or three; she could be a good friend to her friend, and enjoy a visit with her kids. After all, she was a bit of a monster, too.

The blonde teenager nodded to herself; she'd suspected as much, but couldn't bring herself to judge a girl who'd grown up in a world so completely different from her own. Casey knew it was very easy to talk about doing the right thing when you lacked for nothing, and hadn't she punched her share of bad guys in the face? Maybe it was best to change tactics and reconsider the problem from another angle. "If you could change one thing about the Fens, what would it be? It's got to be something concrete and tangible, not like...a philosophy or ideal; something you pick up or see with the naked eye." She crossed her arms and shrugged. "What would you change?"

Notice check: 1d20+10=18 My run of mediocre luck continues!

Silberman's Books. Friday, February 5th, 2016. 1:30 PM. There was a gentle tapping on the door to Lynn's office; the changeling looked up from her computer and called out, "Come in!" Her assistant manager Kiki stepped timidly inside; today she wore a straw boater for some reason. "Do you have a minute? it's...it's kind of important." "Sure, sure, have a seat! What's up?" Kiki took the offered seat, then just stared down at her boots for several seconds until Lynn grew concerned. "Is...everything alright, Keek?" The dancer slowly shook her head. "No. No it is not." She looked up and Lynn, the woman she used to think of as one of her best friends, and sighed. "And it hasn't been for some time." By now, Lynn was very worried and she began to get up from her seat. "Omigod, what's wrong? Is your mom-" Kiki motioned for her boss to keep her seat. "It's nothing like that. it's just...this isn't working for me anymore." She indicated the books on the wall with a wave of her hand. "The store, working for you..." And suddenly things became much more clear. "This is about the Mrs. Nussbaum thing, isn't it?" "No. Well, yes, kind of; it's when things first started going off the rails." "You're quitting, aren't you?" "Yes, I am. After the Nussbaum thing, I said I would give it a year; if things went back to normal within a year, i would stick around, but they haven't, so..." Then took a deep breath and forged ahead. "if anything, they've gotten worse; you made Gretchen your 'personal crime-fighting assistant', and now we're always butting heads about everything. And then you hire this bizarre wizard character-" "Magician, actually." "Without even consulting me, which just proves my opinion means nothing to you anymore." Tears were now welling up in her eyes. "And I've been shot, and everyone but me has super-powers, and I don't feel safe. And I don't even know you anymore." Lynn didn't say anything for a long time, stung with guilt over how badly she'd treated her friend over the past year. Finally, she spoke, her voice choked with emotion. "I am...so sorry, Keek. Do you...do you have anything set up? Another offer?" Kiki slowly nodded. "Yes. James Dupont of the Riverside Dance Company asked me to be assistant director; I already said yes" All other thoughts flew away as the bookseller could only be happy for her friend. "Keek, that's, that's huge! Congratulations!" Despite herself, Kiki smiled warmly at Lynn. "I know. And thanks." But then the feelings of loss and helplessness returned. "But what am I gonna do? Without you-" "Without me, Gretchen will make an amazing assistant manager; you know it, i know it, and sadly she really knows it. You'll do fine." "I guess...so is this goodbye goodbye, or...?" "I'll still come around; because you know-" And they said it at the same time, through big, goofy tear-stained grins. "Former employees always save fifteen percent!"

Grim reached up and artfully adjusted her own domino while adopting a tone of British sophistication. "The classics are classics for a reason, dear boy!" Then she winked, sauntered up to the squawk box and pressed the button; a few seconds later, a heavily distorted voice barked out of the tiny speaker. "-ho is it?" "Weary supplicants awaiting your pleasure, milord!" She was having fun with English bit; Gretchen, on the other hand, was bit more direct. "Let us in so we can blow stuff up." There was a pause, then high overhead, floodlights exploded to life, and music could be heard playing over loudspeakers somewhere beyond the fence as the gate began to dramatically slide open; if you knew your classic rock, you could tell the gatekeeper had a warped sense of humor. Grim bowed low at the waist and gestured dramatically. "After you, good sir!" On the other side of the gate was a huge space, now brightly lit, filled with haphazard piles of car carcasses, concrete tubes and old refrigerators. At first glance, it looked like any other junkyard, but upon closer inspection, one could note a method to the madness; this was an obstacle course, target range and combat arena all rolled into one. On one side of a large clearing in the middle stood an old Airstream trailer home converted into some sort of DJ booth. Inside, a grinning figure with a well-trimmed beard, salt and pepper ponytail, and wearing a black bandana cut into a pirate's mask beamed as he held his hands up in the air and yelled over the loudspeakers "Hey, hey, hey! Welcome to Thunderdome! This is Rusty's Ranch, and I am your DJ of Destruction, Butch Cassidy, and all your asses belong to ME now!"

Gretchen did the math; there were more than enough clues if you paid attention. She looked at Riley with as much sympathy as she could muster; people always assumed she was cold because she normally kept her emotions off her face. "We need to blow up your only way home. It's the only way to stop the incursion." Then she looked over at the clearly-upset mute girl and shrugged. "We can't actually save everyone. No one can." Then she turned back to the bowman and raised her fist, the Ring of Power glowing like a hot ember. "Let's take care of this now." As they made ready to go, Shrike sent a message over to Lynn, doing her best to keep any panic out of her thoughts. - Hey. - - Hey! How'd the doctor visit go? - - He confirmed I was going crazy, and gave me a big bottle of happy pills. You can have some, if you want. - - No he didn't! How'd it really go? - - It was good. I will definitely come and talk with him again. - - Good, I'm glad to hear it. Will you be stopping by the store later? - - Yes. Absolutely. - - Cool, see you then! - - See you soon. - Of course, she didn't say what she really felt; she never did.

I'd be fine continuing of anyone else does.

Grim was familiar with train yards; when she'd first run away from home at fifteen, she'd ridden the rails out West, partly inspired by The Journey of Natty Gann, one of her favorite movies as a kid. Of course, the reality hadn't quite lived up to the fantasy; if only she'd found a wolf like Natty did, maybe things would've turned out better... Back in the real world, she kept her voice low as she spoke to Foreshadow. "Okay, the guys who hit my place are out here, hiding out in the cars, I guess, maybe acting as additional security. They don't have my stuff, though; must have already delivered it inside." She smiled a very unpleasant smile. "I'm in the mood for a terrifying interrogation; how 'bout you?"

Lynn nodded. "That's always the challenge; acknowledging their specialness while still allowing for normalcy. It's a tough balancing act, to be sure." She sighed. "We did a good job with the twins the first time around; it helped that Bill was around more back then. But with Jon-Jon, I spoiled him, cut him too much slack; I didn't notice the warning signs until it was way too late, and he started to get into trouble. I had no idea how much he hated his father, for not being around, for being human..." She sighed again, then shook her head and smiled. "So yeah, set something up! Saturdays are usually good for me, but give me a week's notice, and I can be free pretty much whenever; it helps when you're the one writing the schedule."