Heritage

Casey was in her dorm room at Claremont, hugging her knees on her bed as she watched the coverage on her laptop in disbelief. There was no way her dad could...it just wasn't possible! In a flash, her phone was in her hand and she speed-dialed her mom. "Hello?" "Mom, it's Casey." "Casey, are you alright?" There was a brief pause. "You're watching it, aren't you?" "Yeah. It's not-" "Of course not, hon. I just spoke with Col. Peterson, and he assured me your father is on a mission halfway across the country. That is NOT your father." "Okay, so then who is it? Is he a Grue or a robot or something?" "I don't know, sweetie; you and your father are part of...a strange world. It's not always clear what's happening right away. The important thing is not to jump to any conclusions." Something about that last sentance made the hair on the back Casey's neck stand up. "What are you saying, that it could be Dad? Like...another version of him?" "That's not what I said at all, Case; I just meant-" "Maybe I could talk to him, reason with him." "Casey Elizabeth Blankenship, I forbid you to go face that man! It's too dangerous!" "Mom, I have a responsibility to keep people safe; it's part of who I am now. If I can talk to this...other version of Dad and maybe save some lives, then I have to do it. I don't have any choice." "Sweetie, please!" "Don't worry, Mom; I'll be careful. I love you." There was another pause, and she could hear her mother crying. "I...I love you too, sweetheart. Be safe." Instantly Casey was suited up, and seconds later she was streaking towards Fort Meade.

Lynn nodded when Naomi mentioned the unconventional landing she'd planned for them; she didn't have the heart to mention that she didn't eat anymore, but hopefully there'd be wine or coffee or something nice to drink at least. "Okay, don't touch the eject handle unless we're actually going down; got it." The trainee got herself all strapped in and her headset on; it took a few seconds for her to figure out exactly where the ignition was, but soon the turboprop was roaring to life. Over the com she stated, "Uh, we're...NX-42099? No wait, N42099-X! That's it." She contacted the control tower and waited to find out which runway they were cleared to use, then dug out a very old picture of her family back on Otherworld to stick on the control panel. She kissed her fingers, tapped her husband's and three kids' faces and grinned as her eyes got a little moist. "That's right, Momma's back behind the stick; Lord have mercy!"

Just to be clear, is Grim supposed to be a Merge at this point? Is that what we agreed upon?

Hmm, okay Shrike has a wide variety of skills at different levels of fleuncy, several of which could apply here. Investiage, Notice and Search all have potential, but I could also possibly see Craft: Electronics, Disable Device, Investigate, Knowledge: Technology shedding some light. Any of those Shrike (or Seahawk, of course) can roll on?

Is Lynn able to make out any actual words? With her Comprehend, she can understand any spoken langauge.

Sorry for the lack of posting the last few days; busy schedule and lack of sleep hit me like a ton of bricks. Will be posting again starting tomorrow.

God, I hate digital dice rollers: http://orokos.com/roll/315718 1d20+5=10

For just a brief second, Shrike's eyes widened behind her mask. Wait a second, did she just throw me under the f###ing bus?! What gives! Ohhhhh okay; she's temporarily sacrificing my credibility to gain their trust, which is more like throwing me under a scooter. I guess I can live with that. In response to Ms. Allen's question, the younger heroine cleared her throat and raised a gloved hand. "I'm pretty good at finding stuff; what do you need found?"

Gretchen smiled and nodded as she actually offered a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, Seahawk; I call me 'The Shrike' when I'm like this...or maybe just 'Shrike'." She shrugged and wiggled her hand. "I'm still trying to figure out exactly where I stand on the whole 'the' issue." And then the nice ossifers showed up looking all pissed off, but honestly, could you blame them? Shrike held up her hands and smiled the biggest smile she could, and for the first time in maybe a decade she said a little prayer inside her head. "Hi!" She indicated the pointy-eared Welsh girl with a slight tip of her head. "My friend Seahawk and I are crimefighters, who happened to be in the area and noticed a certain amount of security activity. We just ducked in here for a quick costume change." She did her best to look sheepish and shrugged. "We were literally about to offer our services before you got here. So, how can we help?" She put a gloved hand on her chest. "Oh, and my name's Shrike; I work with Grimalkin?" Dear God, please let them believe me. I'm actually telling the truth!

Grimalkin/Shrike () Grim Demeanor () Head of State () Monopoly Misappropriations () Mysterious Circumstances () Temporiad: Save on Time () Miracle Girl ()

Lynn did NOT look happy putting on the safety vest; she kept squirming and adjusting it like a kid in a car seat or trying a new scratchy sweater grandma made you for Chanukah. There were also a lot of muttered curses as well. As she put her gear away, she indicated the two crates with a nod. "What are those?" Once everything was stowed away, Lynn had a chance to climb into the cockpit and glance over the controls. "Okay, cool, so most of this looks familiar; time for 'A Good Chat'!" She reached out and touched each piece of equipment in turn as she murmured a mnemonic Bill once taught her a lifetime ago. "Altimeter...gas gauge...oil temp...oil pressure, uh...distress beacon over...here. Lessee, what's left. Compass...harness." Here she clutched at her seat belt. "Airspeed indicator, aaaaand tachometer! That's all of them!" She turned to look back over her shoulder at Naomi. "How'd I do, coach?"

As the two young women followed the guards, it became increasingly evident something was going down. Gretchen nodded in response to Naomi's theory. "Could be. But you need to have major...spheroids to pull something like this in broad daylight. Either that or you're crazy, desperate or you have a terrifying edge of some kind." She looked around for a few seconds, lowering her big sunglasses to peer about. "I need a place...a special kind of place. Far from the maddening crowd, as it were." Then she stopped and nodded. "Well, then." There was a short, somewhat shadowy passage that led to a fire door, where Gretchen quickly dashed. She gave her companion a quick crooked smile as she tucked her glasses into her ludicrous purse, then raised her left hand up to show the odd silver ring that bore a single large ruby. "I have a thing that does a weird thing." Taking the ring between the fingers of her right hand, she sighed and shook her head. "Gentlemen, start your engines!" Closing her eyes, the young barista slowly let out her breath as she began to float in the air! Then she twisted the ring sharply, and an eerie pale light flickered over her form, like an old movie projector jumping off its sprockets; silver and black swirled and flowed, until a bizarre figure was revealed! Clothed from head to toe in black with silver buckles and bracers, with a bird-like silver half mask with an ever larger ruby placed in the forehead. A third ruby was visible in the clasp of her floor length hooded cloak. The heels of her rather intense boots made her a whole three inches taller. Looking down at herself, Gretchen sighed as she floated back down to the ground. "So yeah. This is my thing now." She shrugged. "I can float, go invisible, see all kinds of weird things I'd rather not. Not too bad."

Gretchen sighed as she put another tchotchke back on the shelf. "I don't know what's more depressing; the fact that I've yet to find a novelty shot glass with my name on it, or that I actually am blending in while wearing this ghastly outfit." She indicated a group of out-of-towners to her left with a hand gesture worthy of Vanna White; one of the teenage girls was wearing nearly the exact same outfit. She was about to suggest that they blow the place, preferably with high-powered explosives, when she noticed the pack of security guards marching by with firm resolve; she cocked her head to one side and frowned. "That did not look good." She looked in the general direction they were heading, then back to her fellow shopper. "How paranoid are we feeling today? I feel like being paranoid." She sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Boss Lady says to trust your gut. That if something feels wrong, it probably is wrong. And to always finish your gefilte fish." She pointed at the half-alien pilot. "Plus your ears did that thing. Let's have a look." And with that, Gretchen did her best to follow after the guards without being too obvious.

Lynn looked both embarrassed and crestfallen. "Oh, sorry, most of my piloting experience was sorta...'in the bush', you might say." She looked down at her boots and shrugged. "I mean, technically the boots can vanish in a puff of logic if need be, so that shouldn't really be a problem." Then the changeling grinned impishly, and suddenly she was holding a cigar as she did a bit of a Groucho impression. "Along with everything else I'm wearing, if you know what I mean. Not that I advocate nude flying! Safely first, and all that." She flicked the cigar away and it was vapor before it hit the tarmac. The eager pupil once again turned her full attention to the aircraft as Naomi went over its technical specs. "Cool, so it really is a dogfighter; that's awesome! And yeah, I'm fine flying over water..." Then she stopped and looked a bit unhappy. "Wait, do I have to wear the vest? I can fly and I don't even need to breathe! I once spent an entire week as a chair, fer crissake!" The mention of preflight checks also seemed to make her pause. "Uh, yeah, sorta; I mean, I've never flown a plane plane before, y'know? My late husband handled most of the tech side of things." She pointed at the canopy. "Maybe if I have a look at the controls first?"

Lynn Epstein didn't make it out to North Bay very often, and she'd never been as far out as Trainor Airport; it seemed sort of silly to fly to a flying lesson, but that's the sort of world you lived in when you were a cape. It was certainly a nice looking airfield from the air; how different would it look from the cockpit of a plane? She alighted in pixie form around the corner from the main gate, then resumed her normal size and chosen outfit: comfy jeans, comfy cowboy boots, a warm flannel shirt and a classic brown leather bomber jacket. The only thing she wasn't able to glamour up herself were a swanky pair of Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses that she pulled out of an inside pocket that reached all the way into her extra-dimensional vault. With a gym bag casually tossed over one shoulder, she was soon directed out onto the tarmac, where Naomi waited with a truly magnificent looking aircraft. "Hi Naomi! Oh my God, she's beautiful! Who makes her? It looks like a modern take on a Spitfire!" The short trainee eagerly trotted up to run a hand along the sleek fuselage. "So pretty!"

Tagged!

Once she came upon the room with the books, Lynn steepled her fingers and grinned. "Ehhhhhxcellent!" By nature, she wasn't terribly discriminating, though certainly a rare first edition would be nice. Lynn smiled when she saw the National Geographics, one of her favorite magazines as a child; there was something both thrilling and comforting about those yellow spines, promising to sweep you away to exotic places. She'd just started poking through the offerings in earnest when the tall man jostled her out of the way; if not for her amazing balance, she no doubt would have done a faceplant. "Pardon me," she hissed through her clenched teeth as she picked her sunglasses up off the floor where they'd tumbled. She was about to lay into the jackass when she got a whiff of his scent; if it came in a bottle, they'd call it 'Eau de Cadavre' or 'Calvin Klein's Obsession for Grave Robbers'. That charnel house stench was not something you soon forgot. Undead? Necromancer? Demi-lich? Too early to say at this point As discreetly as possible, Lynn returned to her browsing, but kept a keen eye on the stranger, and everyone else in the area just to be safe.

Grimalkin/Shrike (10) Grim Demeanor (1) Head of State (2) Monopoly Misappropriations (4) Mysterious Circumstances (1) Temporiad: Save on Time (2) Miracle Girl (3) A Wild Endeavor (2) Brain Drain (1) All Grim/Shrike posts applied to MG

Lynn Epstein had been to a lot of estate sales since reopening Silberman's Books nearly a year ago, and they were always a bit uncomfortable for her. Part of it was due to the fact that due to her keen senses, it was as though the deceased had never left; to her nose, Leland Comtois would still be walking these halls, the kitchen and dining room would still smell of his last meal, and his suits and shoes would still waiting to be slipped on. But her very Jewish attitudes towards death and the departed also rankled to see the stream of bargain hunters rummaging through a dead man's belongings, like a wolves tearing at a corpse- "Stop it," she muttered to herself as she pulled up in front of the house. "You're no better than anyone else here." Was it not a good thing for these precious articles to find a new life somewhere else? Might there not be family debts that could finally be paid off after clearing out this house? There was a cycle to life and death, and sales like this were as much a part of it as a baby shower, wedding, or of course a funeral. Her star bookseller Maddy and her family were out of town for the weekend, and were nice enough to lend her their Subaru Outback, so if she did come across a nice lot of books she could get them back to the store with ease. Today she wore a comfy pair of Teva sandals, a denim skirt cut just above the knees, and a sleeveless white cotton blouse. A large vaguely Southwestern leather bag was over her shoulder, and pair of horn-rimmed sunglasses perched on top of her head. She got out and strolled through the gathering crowd; you started to see the same faces if you went to enough of these events, the same set of colorful characters who loved a good deal or even just a good story. Lynn had developed a bit of a friendly rivalry with Andrew Orlando, the owner of The Never-Ending Story in Riverside, and always took the time to stop and chat when she saw him; she gave a him a smile and a nod as she headed for the main entrance. "Alright, let's see what the scavengers can find," she said under her breath.

For the record, I'd be willing to do this thread with just Shrike and Seahawk if you're having trouble posting, Nexus.

Tag!

En, where would these humanitarian efforts take place?

That works for me, En; Casey is still a minor until the end of December, so presumably her parents and Duncan Summers would have to sign off on any travels outside the country.

Rav: absolutely! Sakuro, might Stormcrow be interested in the same story? En: sure! They both fly and are pilots, so maybe start with that angle? Saving a passenger aircraft that's in danger, maybe?