Heritage

Their lack of history could be a bonus in some ways. If he actually has a book completed, a book signing/meet the author event in the store might make a very interesting thread; Lynn might be persuaded to let him use the shop, as she is serious about criminal rehabilitation, and having a few supers on staff for security doesn't hurt. The potential for an angry former victim trying to attack him could make for a tense thread! Of course, it might be a while before he has anything published.

Seeing as Casey left New Shipments before he showed up, it might be a good chance for her to meet Jimmy.

Grimalkin/Shrike (16) Back In Black (2) Flying Into The Storm (4) Ounce of Prevention (4) Silberman's Books: Reprise (2) The Little Shop Around The Corner (2) Two Duplicators and Grim, Too! (2) Miracle Girl (23) A Community Service (3) Beautiful People Doing Bad Things (4) Hit The Plane Down (2) New Shipments (6) No Place Like Home (4) Patriotic Gore (4) All points go to MG. Veteran Progress: 276 / ∞ Basic Character Slots: PL10 / 150PP: Grimalkin [Maxed]PL7 / 105PP: Miracle GirlVeteran Rewards: 3 / 5 Spent Bronze: Raising Miracle Girl to PL8Silver: Equipment 3, Sidekick 12 for GrimalkinGold: Sidekick 15 for GrimalkinPlatinum: UnspentImpervium: UnspentRetired Characters: Cubic Deep Freeze Gossamer Red Queen (Villain) White Bishop

Silberman's Books gets all sorts of customers! To be honest though, Lynn has heard of Malice, but I don't think ever encountered him, so that might lack the kind of frission you're looking for in a thread.

Shrike nodded as the Admiral explained the nature of the weapon. "'Rods from God'; they had those in Mass Effect 2. Didn't think we had them in real life, but it makes sense." She peered at the blinking red light. "They could either taken a boat or flown. Or tunneled, I guess." She held up one side of her cloak. "My Cloak of Mystery allows me to turn invisible, but it won't stop me from appearing on radar if they've got that. Hopefully at the speeds I travel at, I'll have landed before they pick up anything." Then she stood there for a while with her head cocked to one side, as she sort of stared at the Admiral for several seconds before she finally spoke again. "So all this super-secret military gear they made off with...any idea as to what they got? Besides the keys to the killsat, that is. It would be nice if we had an idea of what we were flying into before they sonic disrupt us to death."

So the hugging...lasted for a while; Casey was very comfortable with her body, and was fairly touchy herself, but she had nothing on this girl. But she seemed nice and smelled good, and Casey normally bent over backwards not to be rude, so she let it go a lot longer than she probably should have. When at last the strange girl let her go and revealed her true identity, she was immensely relived. "Oh, hey, Miss Grue! Nice to see you! Are you in the contest, too?" But then she did the math, and a frown crossed her face. "Waitaminute, that was you in the brochure? You impersonated me and joined this contest? Why would you do that? Why not just ask me for help like a normal person! You even know where I live, for crying out loud!"

Any bonuses for Casey's ability to see for several miles?

Lynn felt suddenly sick to her stomach, like being on one of those rides that drops you ten stories after eating a lot of cotton candy. It was almost like he was whispering into her ear when Merge relayed that message, and then a finger of ice traced down her spine. The mirror was active. And its duplicate was back at the store, where Gretchen and Lance were working. As quietly as she could, Merge!Grim reached down into her pocket, pulled out her smartphone, and dialed Gretchen. - - - Back at the store, Gretchen was sitting at her Macbook at Lynn's desk, hunched forward and gobbling the contents of Lynn's candy bowl as she listening to the broadcasts on a police scanner, straining to hear any mention of events possibly related to her boss's illicit activities. As soon as the phone played U2's 'Mysterious Ways', she snatched it up in the blink of an eye. "What is it, what's going on?" "Are you in my office?" Lynn's (or rather Merge's) voice was barely above a whisper. "Uh...yeah?" "Don't worry, I'm glad you are. Remember that 'emergency protocol' I told you about?" Gretchen's eyes flicked over to the old fashioned fire alarm box on the wall. "Yes..." "I need you to break open the glass and get it." Her assistant quickly got up, grabbed the little hammer and smashed the glass, then pulled out the iron railroad spike inside; the thing felt heavy and evil in her hand. "Okay, I've got it." "Good. I need you to open the secret door, go into the back room, and smash the mirror. The iron will melt the glamour hiding the lock." Gretchen stood up a little straighter. "But won't that hurt you?" "Like a bitch, but I need you to do this right now. Because he's here." Just the way she said it brought pinpricks of sweat to Gretchen's skin. "Are you...are you going to be okay?" "No idea. But I need to keep you and Lance safe. I'll call you when this is over. You're awesome, Gretch." "You, too. I-" The call abruptly ended, leaving the young barista feeling very small and alone. Then she took a deep breath, marched over to the door, and thrust the iron against the bookcase, which began to melt into vapor. - - - Back in the warehouse, Grimalkin winced as her assistant did as she was told, a thin stream of vapor rising up from her side. Then she tapped her comlink and spoke in a strained voice. "Star, we could really use you right now; come in quiet, and stay back."

"Oh, you're up! And puking shrapnel; that's always a good sign." Lynn reached out to grab the indicated kit and started digging through its contents. "Wow; a gal could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all this stuff." She looked up and grinned. "Sorry, Dr. Strangelove reference. Let's see, pain shot, pain shot...pain shot!" She handed the individually-wrapped syringe over to Naomi, then returned to heating up water for coffee with an MRE heating packet. "So, any messages from the Great Beyond? Winning lottery numbers and such?" The changeling's attempts at levity were actually borne out of her discomfort with the Welsh girl's resurrection; people who might live forever tended to find death rather disturbing.

Once up in the air, Casey was quickly able to spot the aircraft in trouble and check it for signs of damage; what she saw in the cockpit was even more disturbing. "Oh, Jesus..." The plane also seemed to have some puzzling nonstandard gear, as well as two human figures alongside it, one of whom she recognized. "Miss Baines? That's a bit of luck!" She picked up Seahawk's broadcast, set her jaw, and then zoomed down to the tail section as fast as she could. "Hi! You two look like you could use some help!" Quickly grasping the plan, Miracle Girl joined the Welsh flier by the door, ready to dig her fingers into the metal and lend a hand. "On the count of three! One, two, three!"

This was not the first time Casey had been on a bus; she'd used the Mountain Metro several times back home, usually putting her bike in the rack up front and enjoying the air conditioned ride for a bit. But this was her first trip in Freedom, and It was very different from that. At first it was exciting to see more of Bayview, then crossing the river and passing through the Theatre District; she should really see show sometime! Casey instinctively knew not to bother Robin, but she did her best to engage Hannah in murmured conversation, talking about life back in Colorado and various Girl Scout trips she'd been on, while trying to find out more about the shy girl. However as the bus drew closer to the Fens, the conversation gradually faltered until Casey became very quiet. The racial and economic makeup of the passengers shifted, and the young blonde became acutely aware of being an upper middle class white girl from out of town. She felt irrational twinges of panic, even though she doubted anyone here could hurt her, assuming they'd even want to do so. Welcome to the real world, Case; this is your wake up call. "No, this is fine," she said as she rose unsteadily to her feet, mad at herself for holding her stupid hemp shoulder bag so tightly.

Huang's torrent of speech threw Casey a bit; she understood all the words, but something about their particular arrangement made it a bit hard to follow. Wait, did he say 'your race'? That might explain the pointy teeth. Had her friend been condescending? The sad fact was sometimes when Endeavor got going, the blonde jock kind of zoned out, so maybe she'd missed something. Saku did get a little Sheldon Cooper sometimes. "I wasn't saying science was better than magic; you were saying magic was better than science! And I think art and poetry and all that other stuff is great! I-" Obviously she was too angry to think straight, and looking at Raina's smug amused face just made her want to drive her fist through a wall; best to leave, take a cold shower and let it go. Finally she held up her hands, then let them drop. "You know what, forget it, just forget it. It's pointless to argue about this stuff anyway. Good luck in school." Shouldering up her bag, Casey took to the air and arced her way back towards her dorm, hoping those ten pints of ice cream were still there.

Put Casey down for this!

Grimalkin and Shrike were crouched on the roof of the museum, peering down through the open skylight as the more experienced heroine pondered their next move. Gretchen in particular was fascinated by everything about Bombshell. "Holy crap, that woman's hot!" "Mmm? Oh yeah, she's a knockout. See what she's doing?" Grim pointed down at the ex-thief's subtle movements. "She's working on the cuffs. Ooh, she just dislocated her thumb! God, that's gotta hurt!" "That's disgusting. So I'm seeing lots of mystical swirlies floating all over the place; is that a thing?" Lynn idly scratched her nose. "Probably, yeah, which means the righteous stank I'm picking up might be the lingering traces of some sort of magic smoke or vapor." The changeling got up and stretched languidly, which actually managed to distract Gretchen for a few seconds. "Alright, let's do this; Jack and Bombshell are old friends, and Mali is a tenant in good standing. They might need our help." Shrike nodded firmly. "Well, then. Lets make an entrance." The younger heroine floated down majestically, her arms spreading her cloak wide as a familiar pixie flew around her in a downward spiral. Once at ground level, Grim returned to full size in a crouch, then dramatically rose to stand beside her sidekick. "Well this is fun; it's not often I show up at one of these little get togethers and I know everyone! How's life treating you, Bombshell?" She turned to Jack and Tiger and waved like an idiot, a huge grin on her face. For her part, Shrike stood with her arms folded and attempted to look menacing; eh, it was a work in progress.

Notice for Grim: http://orokos.com/roll/327691 Notice for Shrike: http://orokos.com/roll/327693

Casey looked between Huang and Riley, her face stiff with self-control as a white-hot ball of fury seethed in her belly; how dare these two Goth wanabees or whatever they were make fun of her friend? But her mom had always told her that if you got mad, it was best to take a deep breath and count to ten before you said anything. So she dutifully took in a lungful of air, and then started counting under her breath. "One, two, three, four..." Suddenly her head snapped up, and she spoke with uncharacteristic venom and snark. "Boy, I hope all spellcasters aren't as big of jerks as you two; folks might get the wrong idea." She jabbed a finger after the departing tech genius. "Saku might be a little weird sometimes, but at least she's nice to people she barely knows! And what makes magic so much better than science, anyways? Have you guys cured cancer yet?" Yep, Mom would be reaaaaal proud of her right now!

Something was going on below the surface; Casey knew when she wasn't getting the whole story, and that feeling always aroused both her curiosity and sympathy. Robin was from the Fens; she was tough and didn't talk a lot, and her clothes were well-worn. She was bringing a backpack and a garbage bag full of...something back with her while visiting 'home', all of which led the blonde Coloradan to believe that 'home' might not be so great after all. Her eyes told her something wasn't right, and her heart told her she should help. "No, all three of us are going to the Fens." She smiled as a stopwatch suddenly appeared in her hand. "Just give me two seconds." She clicked the button, and then vanished in a rush of wind; several seconds later, she was back, showered with her glasses on and hair up, wearing nondescript gray sweats and running shoes with an oversize hemp bag over one shoulder. Clicking the stopwatch again, she frowned. "Darn it, five point three seconds! Sorry to keep you both waiting." She tucked the watch into the pocket of her sweats, adjusted her glasses and grinned. "Okay, let's catch that bus!"

How well-known a name is Constantine Urallos? I see that he's the head of Delphic Industries (and a secret baddie), but would Casey recognize his name? She does possess ranks in Kn: Current Events and hopes to be a journalist, so she might be better informed than average 21st Century teen, for what it's worth.

The assistant's comment about her already arriving seemed to add credibility to her doppelganger theory; seemed there was already another Casey Blankenship in the house! She tried to memorize the route she was led along, being good with maps and directions, but eventually she had to admit defeat; the corridors all looked the same, and without a sun in the sky for guidance, she was soon hopelessly lost. But not as lost as she felt when the strange girl hugged her! Casey awkwardly patted her back with one hand, unsure of the protocol here; weren't these pageant girls all gushing and touchy? "Hey...you!" She took a step back and held the girl at arm's length as she desperately searched her features for a glimmer of recognition. Maybe they'd met at a Jamboree a few years ago? You met so many girls at those things! Casey smiled uncertainty, not wanting to be rude. "How...are...you?

Shrike smirked as she looked down at the ground rolling past her feet. "Neither. It's magic." She made an 'ooh' face and wriggled her gloved fingers in the air. "Still a work in progress, but it's coming along." Then she waved a hand TL's general direction. "So were you born under the sea or did you move there later?"

Casey adjusted her vest, smiled and wrinkled her nose. "Well, remember what I said about the Goody Two-Shoes...?" She laughed and rolled her eyes; she was comfortable enough to make fun of herself and her 'good girl' status, and that genuine humilty was part of her charm. And then Mr. Sloane came up on deck; all the girls onboard (and let's be honest, a few of the guys) talked about him with giggles and hushed tones. Wealthy, good-looking and 'quite fit' as the English girls noted, he stood there on deck like a J.Crew catalog incarnate. The wind changed and Casey caught a whiff of his cologne, and automatically found herself self-consciously checking her hair and breath; yes, he was a college guy, which made it all fairly gross, but just look at him! "Hi Mr Sloane!" She waved far too eagerly, the biggest smile of her life stretched across her giddy face. "Did you sleep well?" What the heck was she saying? 'Did you sleep well'? Idiot!

Even though she could fly at close to the speed of sound (faster even, if she pushed it) or dash around like the wind, Casey still liked to do normal stuff like run. Her dad explained to her that while her bioenergy field gave her tremendous power, it was useless if you didn't take care of the body that housed it, and being a lifelong athlete, she was happy to oblige. So today she was out running laps around the school in a dark blue sport bra, matching bike shorts and her favorite Nikes, her hair pulled through an Air Force Academy ball cap and a water bottle bouncing on her running belt. Most people these days wore headphones while jogging, but Casey liked the quiet; the sound of her breathing, the slap of her shoes on the ground and the wind rustling in the trees. Plus if she really wanted to, she could always listen to the radio all on her own! As she made her way around the south end of the campus, she noted two of the new girls talking; Robin and...Hannah, was it? The African-American girl had made quite an impression on her, clearly a fighter but with no special powers who came from one of the roughest neighborhoods in town; yes, her dad had warned her about the Fens, as well as the Southside, though from what she gathered the latter wasn't quite as bad as he made it out to be. Hannah seemed nice, but she didn't really get what her powers were; surely she did more than make bubbles? Noting the inner city girl's backpack, she trotted over to the pair, suitably intrigued. She offered them both a smile and a friendly wave as she stopped; unlike most runners, she didn't pant or seem out of breath after exhertion, but she did have a healthy sheen of sweat, and her body actually radiated a soft golden glow. "Hey guys, what's up?" She indicated Robin's pack with a nod as she took a swig of water from her bottle. "Hitting the trail or something?"

"I have to admit, I feel a little bit guilty, Gretch," Lynn mumbled as she pulled out the keys to the shop. "I mean, what if someone stops by for a cup of coffee?" For once, her sardonic assistant actually seemed to be excited about something, which was actually a bit alarming. "You said if it was dead, we could close up early and go see see Tycho's show. He's been begging me to come see it, and I don't want to hurt his little puppy dog feelings." "You still seeing that guy? I thought he dumped you after you punched him in bed." "I didn't punch him, I struck him. Totally different." A squad car went zooming past, siren wailing and blue lights flashing; Lynn followed its passage with her eyes, then slowly looked back at her sidekick, who reared up slightly and shook her head. "No. It was just one cop car. I said I was going, and I meant it." Her bossed sighed and shrugged. "You're right, you're right; if we went after every cop car, we'd never get any sleep." She locked the door and turned to her young protege with a contented sigh. "So, modern jazz dance! I can't say I ever-" Wooooo-wooooo-woooo-woooooo! Woooo-woooo-wooooo-wooo! Gretchen looked utterly crestfallen. "No. No, please for once-" Wooooooo-wooooooo-woooooo! Woooo-wooooooo-woooooo! Lynn frowned sympathetically and rested a hand on the young girl's shoulder. "That's....it's a lot of cops, Gretch." The barista's head dropped forward and she sighed. "You're right. This is what i signed up for. Let's do it." - - - They were still trying to work out flying as a team; Shrike was more than twice as fast than Grim in pixie form, but the tiny changeling was technically the boss, so it would be rude to fly faster than her wee superior, and so far she refused to be carried, though Gretchen knew eventually that day would come. So for now, the young woman in th bird-like mask and black cloak was accompanied by the pixie darting and weaving around her. On the plus side, the mental communication offered by Shrike's Ring of Power meant they didn't have to shout at each other over the rush of wind. - It looks like they're converging on the National Museum. - - Yeah. Wow, that's a lot of cops! - - Indeed. I don't hear any shooting, explosions or power-mad screams. Do you? - - No; actually, that's kinda weird, too. Let's get closer. - They dropped down out of the sky towards the park, eyes peeled for further signs of trouble.

Last night, Casey's father let her know he'd be in town on business, so in the morning they could meet for the breakfast buffet at the airport like they always did. However now that they together, he kept getting called away by classified phone calls, leaving his daughter to slowly work her way through a massive plate of eggs, sausage and waffles as she tapped out a paper on her tablet between forkfuls of yum. She sighed as she looked out the enormous plate glass windows and up into the sky, fondly taking in the stately waltz of the jets. But something weird was going on; several of the planes were deviating from the usual flight paths. Her eyes darted about, noting all the planes in holding patterns all over the sky "That's not right..." Casey was not nosy by nature; in fact, she went out of her way to respect other people's privacy. But when it came to her amazing ears, she did have a tendency to eavesdrop; not on private conversations of course, but she'd gotten into the habit of casually sweeping the police and military bands for signs of trouble every once and a while. And to be honest, she did it a lot when she was bored or having trouble sleeping. But right now, it seemed like a pretty good idea to have a good listen. Oh damn. Oh crap. She sat up in her seat, craning her neck around to catch a glimpse of her dad, but not seeing him, she made a hasty decision. After making sure no one was looking (others had started to notice something wasn't right), she polished off her her plate in seconds, quickly scribbled down a note for her dad, grabbed her hemp shoulder bag, and then slipped out of the lounge and into the nearest ladies' room, emerging seconds later as Miracle Girl! There was a rush of air as she deftly threaded between passengers, baggage carts and airline personnel as she made her way to the tarmac and took to the air in search of the troubled aircraft.

Ping!