Heritage

At the first use of the word 'powers', Lynn hunched forward and spoke through her teeth. "Dude, not in front of the Muggles!" She jerked her head towards the security guards, then sighed, rolled her eyes and addressed Seahawk's second question. "Yeah, I've done a little flying, just...not around here." She shrugged. "Well, not in a plane at least; if you count..." But then her voice died in her throat as the head of ArcheTech strode in, like a statue of the Greek goddess of stern disapproval; she found herself staring down at her cute ankle boots, intensely studying the laces. At last, she managed to lift her eyes up and smile ruefully. "It's, ah...it's very nice to meet you, Miss Americana, though obviously..." She gestured weakly, then threw up her hands. "Look, as I was just telling the very nice pilot lady, I did not think this was going to happen; I didn't think at all, apparently. She leaned forward to sharply tap the magnetic card. "That is my old keycard to the late lamented Brownstone, issued to me by my employer, Dr. Viktor Archeville, back when I was an Interceptor; it was never acknowledged in the press, but he bankrolled the whole operation." Then she looked uncertainly between the two heroines. "Whiiiiich you knew because you're CEO, right? Right?"

The tiny detainee held up her hands and laughed with little mirth. "You're right, you're right; the law is on your side. God, I'm such an idiot!" She ran both hands through her curly hair, careful not to expose her pointed ears...at least not yet. "Up until 2011, I used to work for Viktor Archeville, in an unofficial capacity." She pointed at the white rectangle. "That keycard was used to access the facility; only myself and the other members of the team were issued cards, though I assume Dok had one as well, or some kind of skeleton key. I thought if you swiped it, it would confirm my identity; I didn't think it was full of virus." Lynn sort of sagged in her seat. "And that's the God's honest truth." Then she started sniffing the air, and looked in Seahawk's direction. "You're a pilot, aren't you? Based at Trainor Airport?" Then she noticed her unusual gear. "My God, did you actually fly over here? I'm so sorry to pull you away from your work!" She indicated her flight pack with a wave of her hand. "That's pretty cool, though."

Lynn mutely accepted the cup of water, though she managed to mouth 'thank you' and give Seahawk a small smile; after she took a small sip, she closed her eyes as the security guard described his version of events. It was almost comical how effectively she'd crippled the building without even trying, without even wanting to in the first place! Clearly Dok did not trust Grim when he issued that card, or part of him didn't anyway. At last, the petite brunette drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. "My name is Lynn Epstein; I'm the owner of Silberman's Books in the West End. Believe it or not, I am not a terrorist or a criminal; what I am, in fact, is an idiot who could have put everyone's life at risk by presenting that stupid card! I will happily submit to questioning, but I'd prefer to contact legal counsel before doing so." She gave the guard a sad smile. "If that's okay with you."

"Right, sure, of course." Lynn was nodding mechanically, keeping her head down so her hair obscured her face; she even made it subtly thicker and curlier to hide her features more effectively. As she dutifully followed along, she once again noted that she should NEVER handle tech; anything more complicated than a pencil sharpener was a dangerous weapon in her hands, but not in a good way. Bill once declared there was no technology so durable that it could survive five minutes in her presence, yet put her behind the wheel or in the cockpit, and she was a natural. Or rather, an unnatural. Lynn sat in the seat she has told to sit in, folded her hands in her lap and sighed; depending on your perspective, she either looked like a little girl waiting outside the principal's office, or a little old lady who just got pulled over for running a stop sign. Both in a sense were accurate. "Can I have glass of water," she asked in a small voice.

At the mention of the glamorous superheroine, Lynn rolled her eyes, slapped her forehead and snorted. "Oh God, right! I knew that! Such a dimwit!" She actually did feel pretty stupid; a simple Google search on her smartphone would have told her that! The whispered conversation between Jase and Kelsey was pretty hilarious; she actually arched an eyebrow at the young man just to mess with his head. And actually, she had travelled through time... But then the card swipe yielded much badness, proving once again that even in death, her husband was still smarter than she was. Bill, I am so sorry! I will never question your advice again, so help me God! "Oh s###, oh s###! I honestly didn't think it would do that! Here, take my wallet, take my keys and cuff me! Damn it, that was stupid!" Lynn frantically emptied the contents of her pockets onto the desk and held out her hands, wrists together, grinning like a clown at his execution.

Lynn smiled back, though it was a bit forced; her eyes wandered around the lobby as she pondered her next move. Well, what did you expect? You walk in the front door without an appointment, they think you're a tourist. Clearing her throat, she stepped a bit closer to the man. "Listen-" She noted his ID badge. "Steven, I used to work with the good doctor a few years ago, and I was really hoping to speak with whomever replaced him as the head of ArcheTech. Could you tell me who that is, please?" Then a thought struck her; she pulled out her wallet and slid out her old Interceptors magnetic card; it was her last connection to the Brownstone, now long gone after its destruction. The card itself was a featureless white rectangle, though she knew it was almost certainly full of intricate microcircuitry. Bill had strongly suggested she destroy it, fearing it might somehow contain some secret danger, but she'd never been able to let it go. "Here, go ahead and swipe this and see what happens."

Lynn Epstein's West End apartment. Monday, April 13th, 2015. 3:05am "Fuhh!" Lynn abruptly woke up in bed, her heart racing; the sheets were tightly wrapped around her and the pillow was on the floor. She sat up and blinked her eyes, the darkened bedroom as clear as day to her faerie eyes. Two of her cats were curled up on the bed, clearly upset at being disturbed by her rude outburst, so she reached out and scratched between their ears with her claws, just the lightest touch. "Sorry, babies; Mommy had another nightmare." It had been one of the bad ones; she and Bill were at the ranch, celebrating the twin's birthday. Her parents were there, along with Erik and Ellie, and the kids were enjoying pony rides. Then Viktor arrived fashionably late, laughing with an armload of packages, and everyone was excited to open their presents, but only Lynn could see the long black spider legs poking through wrapping paper, and Ruthie eagerly reached out to grab her gift- The ageless changeling went into the bathroom, ran the sink and splashed her face with water. She filled a cup with water and drank it, more out of habit than any real thirst. Lynn contemplated her face in the mirror, the perfect flawless mask, and sighed. "Ya need help, kid; better go get some!" - - - ArcheTech's Hanover facility, 9:22 am that same day Lynn didn't feel like flying; at times like this, the mindless jostle of public transportation was somehow more appropriate, and she could just veg out in her seat like everybody else. It took a lot longer, but eventually she made it to Hanover and what was left of Dok's legacy; she realized belatedly that she'd never stepped in this building before, and wasn't sure what to expect. She'd opted for a sort of 'office casual' look, with a tweed jacket over a simple cotton blouse, dark Capri pants and brown ankle boots. Reaching under her blouse, she found the familiar ring on its thong; she pulled it out, gave it a quick kiss, then tucked it away as she headed for the main entrance. Once inside, she made a beeline for the security desk, and offered the security guard on duty a dazzling but nervous smile. "Hi! I'm not sure who I should talk to; I'm sorry, I didn't make an appointment." She leaned in closer. "My name's Lynn Epstein, and I was hoping to talk to someone about Viktor...Archeville?"

Lynn scratched her head. "Uh, well the one thing is pretty big, so I'd have to show you upstairs in my apartment..." This prompted Gretchen to make a hasty sign with her notebook and a Sharpie that read, 'YOURE ACTING SUPER CREEPY!!!', and wave it around vigorously behind the counter. The bookstore owner rolled her eyes and rubbed her face with her hand. "Alright, she may have a point, but it's broad daylight, we've got a room full of witnesses...it'll be fine. Follow me." She led the curious teen into the backroom, up a flight of stairs and into her kitchen; the room was very clean and smelled faintly of fresh baked cookies. In one corner stood what looked like a pinball table, except for the use of materials; there was no plastic, just a variety of polished woods, clear and colored glass, and brass fittings. It was simply beautiful and clearly made by hand. "This is a 'Knights Templar' bagatelle table; I don't know if you know anything about pinball, but it's the 'Twilight Zone' of another world." She flipped a switch on the back and the whole cabinet lit up; the backglass depicted scenes of damsels in distress, secret societies and the Crusades, with a rose window worthy of Notre Dame in the middle. The gameplay area had exquisite brass and blown glass bumpers, and holographic knights on horseback rode across it. And there was music, something like pan pipes and a hurdy-gurdy, that sounded one hundred percent analog. Lynn lovingly stroked the cabinet and sighed. "They only made a hundred of these; she's my pride and joy."

Happy birthday, Shaen!

Casey was also momentarily distracted by Bruno's antics, though she did take the opportunity to put away more of her salad. When she turned back, she noticed Vicki's new message, and her eyebrows went up a bit. "Oh wow, like telepathy? That's..." Her brow furrowed as she took a swig of Coke, clearly thinking things over carefully; after a few seconds of thought, she finally shrugged. "Okay look, here's the deal: I'm not one of those people who automatically doesn't trust telepaths. I don't it's right to make blanket statements about people like that. But-" And here she paused to tap her temple. "I actually do have some sensitive information in here. But if you promise not to pry, I guess I'm game." She leaned forward and whispered, a bit of a mischievious smile on her face. "So...what's it like?"

Hope that room description is okay; just wanted to flesh out the post a bit.

Mall security ended up putting Casey and Sakurako in the other office with their 'perp', seated across from him in uncomfortable chairs; apparently there was paperwork to fill out or something. The room was drab, ugly and brightly lit, with minimal furnishings and decorations, and cardboard boxes filled with next week's ad fliers stacked everywhere. Casey was glad she didn't really get hot or cold anymore, because she had a feeling the room was overly air conditioned, though maybe the culprit was just shivering due to nerves. After eyeing the boy for some time, the blonde teen finally blurted out, "So who exactly were you trying to impress? She must be a real prize if you can win her heart with a stolen purse."

Welcome JD! Always great to see new blood into rpgs; hope you have lots of fun here with the rest of us!

The blonde girl peered down at the phone as she began to fork large mouthfuls of chili salad into her mouth, nodding and then holding up her finger as she finished chewing. "Casey, Casey Blankenship; a pleasure. I'm a sophomore; you?" She offered a firm handshake; her hands were a bit calloused from her many years of Scouting, and her grip was quite strong but in no way uncomfortable. "So where are you from? I'm from Colorado Springs; Air Force brat. Mmm, wait, I know how to say exactly two things in ASL!" Setting aside her fork and wiping her hands and face with a napkin, she held up her index finger and smiled. "First word!" Casey adjusted her glasses and squared her shoulders dramatically, then signed 'hello'. "That one I always remember because it looks a lot like a salute." She did it again, this time with the stern 'eyes on the horizon' look she'd seen on her dad's face when he was greeting a superior officer. Then she held up two fingers. "Second word; well, I guess two words, actually." She curled her middle fingers inward and did the flicking gesture for 'what's up' "The only reason I remember that one is because it looks like, I don't know, something you'd see in 'West Side Story'." She flicked her fingers again, scowled slightly and spoke in a surprisingly male voice with a ridiculous 'Noo Yawk' accent. "Ayyyy, whatssup?" Then she shrugged and tucked back into her salad. "So, where are you from? Sorry, I kind of cut you off earlier."

Grim isn't expecting a detailed report from Gretchen, especially since the poor thing doesn't speak a word of Japanese, but we will take any intel we can get at this point!

Grim zipped out of the room as quickly as she could once Tria removed the device; she hoped there wouldn't be too much effect above ground, because those people has already suffered enough. She was very happy to see the damage remained limited to the field. The tiny pixie swatted at one of the globular robots as it tried to aid her. As the mysterious figure resumed its speech, she buzzed over to Net Fly, landed on his shoulder and leaned her tiny head closer to whisper into his ear, as her small voice would be easily lost in all the ambient noise. "He's saying the new collapse was just a small subsidence, and that he will protect 'his people' like the thunder god Kashima. He will protect Sapporo with all he has, and never again will such a horrible thing happen...which of course if he or his friends were responsible for it, they pretty much can promise." She sighed and rubbed her face with tiny hands. "But Mr Black and White is right; we can't assume anything just yet. I have to check on someone; be right back." And with that, she zoomed off to find Gretchen; a quick shift of her vision to the red rubber band she'd conjured showed she hadn't moved too far from her previous position. Dropping a few feet away, she resumed her full size and joined her assistant, who was still hard at work with the two local EMTs, though they'd been joined by a few other citizens who were in good enough shape to help. The young retail veteran looked like she was exhausted but full of purpose. "Hey! How go the relief efforts?" Gretchen jumped at the sound, but was visibly relieved to see her boss, and laid a firm grip on her shoulder. "Oh, thank God you're back! We need bandages, blankets, stretchers, splints-" "I can't do metal, but I can do cloth and bamboo." "Bamboo would be awesome. What else, what else...ooh, can you make water? Or rubbing alcohol? Oh, and needle and thread, for stitches?" "Maybe...probably. I can at least do like pure grain alcohol and rain water in bottles or barrels, that's for sure. Clear an area, and I'll get to work." Turning back towards the other heroes, she conjured up a large sign that read, "MAKING ADDITIONAL EMERGENCY SUPPLIES. COME AND GET ME WHEN YOU NEED ME!" Grimalkin cracked her knuckles and rolled the tension out her shoulders as she got ready to begin conjuring on a massive scale; she'd have to provide instructions for the proper waste disposal of all this glamour when this was all over. Before she got started, she turned back to Gretchen. "So the guy in the metal monkey suit; when did he show up?"

No, she's not, though her costume in in her bag.

Hmm; can we say they're with the one Endeavor tazed? Or maybe it would be better if they could still interact with the other two Claremonters.

Casey peered down at the phone and smiled. "Well, nice to eat you, too!" She stuck her tongue out, then shook her head sympathetically. "Yeah, I hate auto-correct, too. So, what's your name?" She tapped her ear lightly. "You can hear okay, right? Just no talking?" Casey's mom was an Air Force nurse; it's how she met her dad. Mrs. Blankenship learned American Sign Language to speak with some of the disabled vets she had to work with, and had always encouraged Casey to learn it as well, but sadly she'd never kept at it. She used to know a phrase or two, if she could just remember...

Casey Blankenship had very mixed feelings about Claremont's cafeteria; on the one hand, the food was great and plentiful, but on the other, she always felt self-conscious about how much she had to eat. It was less about the teenage weight issues (though she was far from immune to those irrational thoughts) and more about global warming, animal rights and all the other topics that swirled around food production in the modern world. No one said anything (Claremont had a very strict 'no bullying' policy), but sometimes people judged her silently with their eyes; she usually sat with friends, but scanning the tables she didn't see any of her usual crowd, and so was reluctantly prepared to eat alone. But then she saw a new girl with a similarly laden tray and her mood quickly brightened; once she paid, she quickly made her way over to the new arrival and offered her a warm smile. "Hi, you must be new! I'm Casey; is this seat taken?" Her tray bore a large chili salad, French onion soup, two servings of lasagna, a large Coke and a huge slice of chocolate cake.

Welcome Vahn! Thumbs up for your love of Chuck and KP!

Reflex save: 1d20+16=31

So in working on my next character edits for Grim (which will theoretically involve spending 30PP on a Sidekick and her HQ), it became clear that, well, things are a bit murky; I just want to make sure that everything is legit and I'm not using any slots or rewards incorrectly. Muddling the waters further is the fact that Grim was created as a PL6 in 2008, long before the current systems were in place. Unless I'm very much mistaken, Grim has earned four Rewards to date: Bronze, Silver, Gold and Platinum. This is her >current sheet, and this is her >old sheet. This is Gossamer's >old sheet, which is relevant because I think she started as a PL10 but got bumped to Pl12 by Grim's earnings; however, it's also NOT relevant because I've decided not to bring Goss back after mulling it over, which frees up whatever Reward was used to pay for her. I think Grim earned her way up from PL6 to PL8, then got a Reward bump up to PL10, and then earned her way up to PL15 prior to her retirement, reactivation and subsequent PL reduction. Miracle Girl was brought right out of the box at PL8; I'm not actually sure how I did this, since he should have been either a PL7 or a PL10, but I think it's fine. Deep Freeze was created using the free PL10 SPAAAAACE slot. Sorry for the headaches!

Fellow sophomore Miracle Girl is also available for interactions! She's also a big eater and military brat (Air Force).

Casey watched and listened quietly, clearly impressed by her friend's vision. "Wow, that's...noble. It's good that you have a vision." Then she laughed. "Boy, how long have you been waiting to make that speech?" But then the athletic blonde sighed as she frowned thoughtfully. "In a way, I'm passionate about the same thing: truth. It's what made me want to go into journalism, which may seem ironic considering how often the media is used to distort the truth. It seems like every media outlet has its own agenda, and flavors and shapes the truth to reinforce that agenda, at the expense of the very truth they're supposedly sworn to report." Casey sat down on one the beach chairs, intensely focusing on the air before her as she tried to shape her ideas with her hands. "I already wanted to be a journalist before I got my powers, but now think if it: I could fly into a war zone on my own, no need for a helicopter or even a bulletproof vest, and report back on what I found. Or even if I maintained my civilian identity and went in with a full crew, I could keep them safe, and then maybe save some lives as Miracle Girl after we get the story." And then she chuckled as a thought struck her. "Huh! You know, it's funny; the two sides of my life are kind of in opposition. A journalist is supposed to stay impartial and not influence events, and a hero does the exact opposite." She shook her head. "Never thought of that before..."