Heritage

Easy-peasy for Grim this month! 1pp for 4 Ranks of Craft: Artistic 2pp for 8 ranks of Craft: Structural These points sort of explain her innate skill with glamour. Ecalsneerg!

The shapeshifter grimaced as she led the way down to the game room. "Oh sorry; guess it's a sad comment on me that I don't think of being compared to a ninja as a bad thing, huh? But I guess you're right, they did kill lots of people." She drummed her hands along the bar as she passed it. "Help yourself to munchies and drinks!" Grim's head cocked to one side and her pointed ears perked up. "Back door this time. Oh, a few people; Jill O'Cure, who said she was bringing some girl she knows, obviously you, Fusion the tentacle lady...uh, I forget who else." Apparently secret identities and headquarters were not her biggest concern. She headed for the back door, taking a big whiff of dryer fumes as she passed. "Coming!" She opened the back door in costume sans domino, and smiled warmly; she wasn't important enough for most people to recognize, and she felt silly greeting people in mask. "Hi, Fusion! Glad you could make it." She sniffed the vapors wafting out of the casserole dish. "Mmm, smells good! Is it kosher? If not, more for everyone else, I guess. C'mon inside!" She led the way back to the game room, and indicated the dimensional shifter with a wave of her hand. "Silhouette, this is Fusion; Fusion, Silhouette. Make yourselves at home, guys!"

Just a heads up that Fusion will be joining us as well; AA expressed interest in the chat but missed this thread :oops:

Was that someone at the front door? Grr, she should have been more specific in her invite! Shrinking down to pixie size, Grim shot upstairs to the front hall, where she resumed her normal proportions and shifted into FC sweats. She opened the door, and seeing Silhouette standing there she quickly waved her in. “Hey, hi, c’mon in! Sorry, I thought I said in the invite to use the back door from the garden. No worries, though, you’re like a ninja and all.†Leading her towards the basement steps, the tiny brunette vaguely waved a hand towards their surroundings. “So, this is the Brownstone, our home and command center for our little war on crime and stupidity. We’re actually set up downstairs.â€

And we're off! IC OOC

It's ladies' poker night at the Brownstone!

The Basement of the Brownstone. February 11th, 2011. 6:58 pm As she finished setting everything up for tonight's game, Grimalkin thought back on the number of times she'd done this over the past two years. Am I a compulsive hostess? Should I consider a future as a crime-busting party planner? She shook her head and smiled at her own idiosyncrasies as she conjured up the last of the chairs; instead of setting everyone up in the more-familiar upstairs, she'd instead opted to use the downstairs game room, which was sadly underused. It also had the benefit of being accessible from the snow-covered garden, safely hidden from the street; a short flight of steps led down to a storage room full of odds and ends, and then a quick walk through the laundry room brought visitors right into the game room. Grim had even made sure to run a few loads of Colt’s wash to add to the hominess of the scene. Ah how I love the smell of fabric softener sheets! There weren't a lot of furnishings downstairs; simple brown carpeting, a CD jukebox, well-stocked bar and a few neon beer signs, in addition to the requisite foosball, air hockey and billiards tables, not too different the what Lynn saw every day at the FC student union. It was fairly cozy as is, but as usual the petite shapeshifter couldn't help but spruce it up a bit, adding a nice big poker table, folding wooden chairs and some vintage movie-style posters of her and her teammates, conjured up just for fun. The lurid posters shared the walls with several strings of white Christmas lights, which Grim had actually purchased (gasp!) just for the event. She’d also made sure to clean the microwave out in the hall by the vending machines, and dusted and vacuumed as well. Lastly she laid out snacks both sweet and salty in bowls on top of the bar, and conjured up enough napkins and plates for everyone. Wiping her hands in satisfaction, she punched a few selections into the jukebox, switched from her sweats into her working uniform (minus her mask) and waited to hear the rear doorbell chime.

This thread sounds fun, so I'm down with it :D

This was all a bit too much for Gossamer; she tried to wrap her head around the concept of a psychokinetic entity capable of 'possessing' an entire building, but if she'd learned nothing else from living in Freedom City all these years, it was that few things were truly impossible. "So assuming your hypothesis is correct, what do we need to do to sever this connection and prevent the rather terrifying scenraio you've just proposed?"

We never got to explore Grim's 'mentorship' of Breakdown, largely because I pissed away the whole Legacy of Al-Kazar storyline I had planned. I'd like to have her rekindle their friendship, and what better way to start than by having a backstage pass to his concert? :D

Okay, so far we've got: Grim Silhouette Wisp Dragonfly Jill O' Cure If others can vouch for her, Grim would be fine with Sage as long as her powers are explained; no one should be using their powers to influence play anyway, since really all heroes could abuse them somehow or other. I'd be fine with Colt popping in his head if we play at the Brownstone, but for variety's sake and not to crowd the table I'd prefer not to have Blueshift; Grim and her will have to thread sometimes soon, though! Does six players work for everyone? With young 'ens present we might want to go cashless and merely play for chips, and it can't be on a school night ;)

The Brownstone is indeed a great place to hang out, if folks don't mind, and Grim seems to invite people there at the drop of a hat. We can play elsewhere, though, if that works better for others.

Reading over the old Upstairs at Monty's poker thread made me nostalgic, and a few people in the chat seemed interested, so anyone want to play a few hands of Texas hold 'em? An all ladies game seemed like a fun change. Grim, a casual player who tends to lose money but still has a good time, would start spreading the word among the hero community; we can play wherever folks feel comfortable. As far as poker simulation goes, Airoo suggested the following in chat: Though this could lead to hands being duplicated; I shuffled an actual deck and sent PM's to players last time. Regardless I don't think we should kill a charming thread idea by overthinking the simulation aspect. So who's game for a game?

At the touch of his tongue, Gossamer finally had enough, though not in a bad way; she squealed and kicked her legs, then slid of the love seat to the floor, aided by a strong push by her animated fibers. Rising to her feet, her face flush from excitement, she waved her hands as she attempted to catch her breath. "Okay, time for a break! I can only do pins and needles for so long before I burst!" Gingerly stoking the back of her neck, she climbed back onto the sofa and met Gregory's gaze. "You come on very stong, Greg, which isn't necessarily bad; I admire your passion and enjoy it, but sometimes we need to break it into smaller increments." With a firm yet warm smile, she took a handful of her hair and placed it into his hand. "Think of each of these fine strands as a nerve, an exposed nerve that stretches five feet beyond the rest of my body." She took his fingers and used them to gently stroke the fibers. "Do you know how sensitive they are? I can feel your fingerprints, Greg." With a sigh, she wrapped her hair around his shoulders like a scarf, then curled up on his chest. "Sometimes I think you draw the spirits of the animals you love and nurture into yourself, almost like small domesticated totems." She reached up and laid soft fingers on the side of his neck. "I can feel them coursing through you, in your blood and sweat." The lovely chemist was not usually known for her poetic analogies, but she was clearly inspired by this man; she tilted her head back to gaze at him sidelong, a playful smile on her lips. "Rest now, He Who Runs With Kittens! Rest and be at peace; there will be time for us later."

"K...k..." Estelle's back arched as the curls went out of her hair, the entire shimmering surface rippling like the ocean, followed by a sort of spasm. The blonde chemist closed her eyes and flexed her toes, at the same time gripping the love seat with countless tendrils that thoughtfully avoided pinching Greg in anyway, yet squeezed the small sofa so tightly that the handsome vet felt it creak beneath them. "Hmmm? I can't...what?" Try as she might, Estelle couldn't manage to open her eyelids; the sensation was that overpowering.

"Eeep!" Many women are ticklish on the back of their necks, but Gossamer was doubly so; with so many sensitive fibers on the back of her head, even the slightest touch back there sent tingles through her whole body. When Greg's muscular hands found this special spot, all of Estelle's hair went curly from the roots out in a bizzare insta-perm of delight. Instinctively she grabbed his wrists, but then she slowly let them go. "No, it's okay, don't...don't stop..." Apparently there was something that shut her brain off, at least for a few seconds at a time; the blonde heroine closed her eyes and murmured incoherently.

Lynn jumped to her feet and vigorously applauded. "Mozel tov!" She was openly weaping tears of joy now, so happy for Derrick and Stesha as well as giddy at the thought of her own upcoming nuptuals. She exchanged silly smiles with Mona as she kept on clapping. "So when do we get to dance and get drunk?"

A rueful Estelle was too well-mannered to actually protest when several of her Lab partners began to help themselves to her dinner, though she did make a mental note to keep the fridge in her office fully-stocked, and possibly locked as well. Technicians... Looking down at her sadly-diminished supplies, the organic chemist cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should have regular meals together...not everyday, but perhaps once a week? Lots and lots of food, with the understanding that it's to be shared? I think that would be very pleasant." Fetching her cellphone with a helpful tendril, Gossamer started scanning for a Thai place that delivered.

Once again, Grim was speechless as she stared at the bizarre clock; it was in kind of bad taste but also totally cracked her up, so she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It was no doubt a beautiful piece, much like the inspired timekeepers presented to the rest of her friends and teammates, but seeing the beautiful Hebrew characters so close to the cartoonish anti-Nazi antics sort of made her head spin. What did they call it in psych class? Cognitive dissonance? On the one hand she didn't want to hurt her boss's feelings, but on the other hand she didn't want to flat-out lie to his face, especially on this day in front of her whole heroic 'family'. Finally after several minutes, she was able to find the words as she gently climbed out of Colt's lap to wrap the good doctor in a warm embrace. "Thank you, Archy Claus; it's...truly bizzare." She gave him a friendly wink, then she turned back to the rest of ther group. "So, um, who's next? I don't wanna go just yet." She wasn't quite sure if she'd pulled it off, but at least she gave it a shot. Actually you know who would love this freaky thing? Dad. Maybe I should send it to him to hang in his workshop...

"Yes indeed." Estelle planted a greasy kiss on the tip of his nose, and then followed him to the couch. "Movie!" She flopped down next to him, head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, and sighed, blissfully content.

Lynn happily accepted the paper and nodded. "Cool! Oh, here." She flicked her fingers like a street magician, and an embossed business card appeared in her fingertips. "Got my cell number right on there." The card read: "Y'know, gimme a call if you wanna hang, or like the world is on fire and stuff; I am equally happy drinking coffee or punching evil in the face." The shapeshifter pulled out her cellphone to check the time, and then cringed. "Oh man, I told my fiance I'd make him dinner tonight, as in real food made from scratch; I better motor." She held out her small hand. "Nice to meecha, Etain."

It took a lot to make Estelle de Havilland scream; she considered herself both logical and level-headed, and most of the time handled the curveballs life through at her with good humor and aplomb. However the sight of the mechanical man slammed immobile against the wall of the elevator, his robotic voice tonelessly reciting the nature of his distress, caught her completely off-guard, and a high-pitched shriek popped unbidden out her mouth. "Aiiieee!" Frantic fingers scrabbled for the security card dangling from the lanyard around her neck, which gaily danced and swung this way and that; so much for level-headed! "I'm trying, I'm trying!" With an angry grunt, the blonde heroine sent the full mass of her hair smack into the control panel like a hundred pounds of cooked spaghetti dropped off a roof, effectively hitting every button at once and bringing the elevator to a lurching halt. An alarm bell rang somewhere up the shaft as Gossamer finally wrangled her card, swiped it, and hit the button for the lobby. Seconds later, the car was heading back down and the alarm ceased its clamorous wailing. Hands on her knees, Estelle took several long slow breaths to slow her heart rate back down to normal. "Sorry about that, I now...dimly recall a memo...meant to prevent this very thing." Her blue eyes flicked apologetically from the now-freed robot and her Russian guest. "Regrettable."

I edited Gossamer's last post so it doesn't conflict with Protectron's magnetic distress; feel free to post, Geez!

In a flash, Lynn was out of her seat and laying a gentle hand on Etain's sleeve. "Hey, no, look...it's cool; it's just, y'know, an adjustment, trying to see things from your point of view." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The thing of it is, if you're gonna live among humans, you need to learn more about them, right? Their strange rituals and customs, all that jazz." She held a hand to her chest, the very picture of sincerity. "I am in a unique position to help you with that; I'm totally serious." Looking around the cafe, Lynn shook her head. "Maybe what we need is to find a better place to meet, for like your 'humanity lessons' or whatever. Is there somewhere you like to hang out where we could, like, meet from time to time? No pressure or anything, I just, y'know, want to help out a fellow freak." She grinned. "And that's definitly not an insult, coming from me. So how 'bout it?"

Lynn gripped the edge of the table and scrunched up her eyes in frustration; it was like trying to teach a monkey how to play checkers. "Look, I don't know how things were back in 'Faerieland', but here among the humans, who by the way I'm proud to be a part of despite my, well, current lack of humanity, we've had to fight for everything. Against nature, against the laws of physics but mostly against ourselves. It's how we've evolved and changed, though admittedly not always for the best; I mean, that's the price you pay for not being in some kind of weird messed-up static/limbo place, which I guess is what Faerie is." She chuckled ruefully. "And now I guess it's my turn to be insulting; sorry." The dimunitive brunette vigourously rubbed her face with her hands. "Bleh! Okay, so humans are crazy and our so-called 'heroes' are the craziest of all, but they're the ones who make use great; them and the artists, I guess. Next question!"