Heritage

Gossamer's edit for January is fairly simple: 4 pp to increase Fortitude save to 12 2 pp to Increase Will save to 12. Also made a slightly adjustment to fluff: Done and done! Doktor'd

Okay, here are my edits for Grim for January: 4 pp to increase her Attack Base to +8. 4 pp to raise Claws to 8, including another rank of Penetration. Also clarifying a bit how her Claws work in both fluff and power descriptor: and All numbers should be good (I hope I hope). Doktor'd

Sorry I've been dragging my feet on this; I got hung up on writing a News post that outlines Grim's extended family (at least as she sees them). I will post both that post and the start of this thread tonight.

Lynn laughed as she sniffed the apparent contents of her cup. "Wow, that's about the coolest compliment I've ever gotten; so will this get me drunk, or at least make me think I'm drunk?" She took a cautious sip and felt the fire go all the way down the back of her throat, shuddering involuntarily. "Ooh, that's good fake hootch! This is awesome!" She took another sip, aware of the fact that the real coffee must still be hot, and she didn't want to burn her throat without realizing it. Then a thought crossed her mind. "Wait a sec, how do you know what that scotch tastes like?" She smirked and wagged a scolding finger. "You bad, bad girl!"

Estelle gave her handsome boyfriend a withering look as she shook her head in mock-outrage. "'Do I have those ingredients'! Hah! Dost thou question my culinary arts? I have three types of mushroom and no less than four pepperoni to chose from!" At this, she let lose some of her hair, which carefully ran itself under the tap. "I don't normally use my hair when I'm cooking for others, due to certain negative mental associations people have between hair and food, but since my hair isn't like other peoples, and doesn't actually shed, I assure you this is quite sanitary." She formed two separate multi-branched tentacles, which then stretched out to grasp knives, graters and several other cooking implements, as well as fetching the spicy sausages, mushrooms and three types of cheese. While she poured Greg a glass of wine and refilled her own, the golden tendrils went to work like a pair of Benehana chefs on speed, cleaning, chopping and sorting the toppings into neat piles with bewildering efficiency. Estelle sipped her wine as she oversaw the proceedings with what looked like only casual interest. She pondered the suggestion as she took another sip of wine. “Mmm, I like a lot of his films, but must admit I haven’t seen them all; which did you bring? Oh, but please, no Alien. I know it’s a classic, but not for a romantic evening; I don’t want to be eating pizza when John Hurt’s chest suddenly goes-" And here she did a rather clever impression of the famous chestburster scene by sending a thick tendril of hair down the back of her T-shirt and having it pop out from behind her apron. “Ahhh, kill it! Kill it with fire!†The mock alien writhed around a bit before she bopped it over the 'head' with her wine glass and it slunk out of sight, returning to her regularly scheduled hairstyle.

The way she said that really brought something home for Lynn; 'death allowed you access to the fae'. It really was true; her great-grandfather Ira had some magical abilities as they shared the same bloodline, but it was only through Lynn's death that Grimalkin could be born. The shapeshifter experienced a rare shudder at the thought. Yep, that sounded like twisted faerie logic, at least as much of it as she'd been exposed to, which thankfully wasn't much. "God, I hated high school; I wonder if it would have been easier if I'd gone to a place like Claremont. Of course, if I had my powers back then, I would have been a menace to society; no one would be safe!" She decided not to push on Claremont, just in case her motives became more transparent. Instead she shifted the focus back to comparing their relative powers. "So can you fly or transform or anything else? What's the biggest thing you've ever glamoured up?"

"Awww, well, thank you; you're not so bad yourself." Though she acted as though the compliment was no big deal, her smile and the color in her cheeks spoke volumes. "Oh sure, you say that now. All right, the crust is ready for sauce and toppings; so, what do you want on your Tombstone?" She began to laddle on sauce from a nearby saucepan, spreading it around in ever-widening circles; judging from the many containers and bags of ingredients strewn about the various countertops, she was serious about doing everything from scratch. The dough and sauce both smelled wonderful, and the heat from the brick oven, which was currently burning actual wood (though it could also run on gas), evoked a classic feeling of home. Estelle absently wiped the back of her hand across her forehead; dressed down and wearing minimal makeup, she may never have looked lovelier.

Estelle laughed and nearly dropped the dough when Greg kissed the ticklish back of her neck; her braid swung up and playfully swatted him as she wriggled out of his grasp. "Do that again and it's no pizza for you, 'Mad Dog'!" She set the dough aside and wrapped her arms around him, the braid also coiling about his waist like an affectionate pet anaconda. "Ha-ha! Now I've got you were I want you; prepare to die, Mister Matthews! And from lack of oxygen, no less!" Here began a delightfully life-threatening situation that lasted for several minutes. ;)

Their coffee arrived and Lynn took a long savory sip of her pumpkin spice. "Mmm, that is heaven! It never tastes quite as good when I make stuff, which is just as well I guess." She set down her cup and sighed. "So wow, you had a choice in the matter? Interesting! I wonder what I would have chosen, if I'd one." Then she shrugged affably. "Oh well, no use pondering what might have been; I barely remember what it used to feel like to be me." "So how are things at Claremont? Classes okay?" Her tone seemed only casually interested, but actually Lynn was hanging on every word; any news about Zephyr or certain other students would be filled away for later use.

Estelle kissed him back enthusiastically, and her hair rippled at his touch. "Mmm, how was work? Did you save the lives of countless kittens and puppies?" She barely waited for him to respond before resuming the kissage, maneuvering him back towards the kitchen area, giggling between each kiss. "All right, before you ravage me, I think it would be wise if we had a bite to eat; as tasty as you are, and no doubt packed full of nutrients, I've been working up an appetite all day." She playfully nibbled his ear before tearing herself away and heading back behind the counter. "And your ardor for me will doubt increase once you see how I make a pie." After wiping her hands once again on the towel over her shoulder, she dusted her lump of dough with a pinch of semolina flour, picked it up and slapped it from hand to hand, and then with well-trained ease hefted it up and spun it in the air, again and again. “God, I love doing this; best thing I learned out of seven years at Harvard! Oh, do you want some wine?†She indicated an open bottle nearby next to two glasses, one of which was currently in use. “It’s a lovely Barbera, with notes of black cherry.â€

At the sound of the knock on her door, Estelle checked the small flatscreen monitor in the kitchen and saw it was Greg on the security cam. Grabbing a hand towel off rack, she wiped her hands as she made her way to the foyer, then casually tossed the towel over her shoulder. "Coming!" She unbolted the inside door and stepped through what she thought of as the 'porch', a fairly comfy place for smokers to hang out, complete with patio furniture and ashtrays. She peeped through the peephole out of habit, and then opened the door, a breathless smile on her face. "Hey, you made it!" She gave him a warm kiss that tasted of flour and cinnamon lips gloss. "C'mon in! I hope my directions weren't too confusing." She led him into the main loft, and gestured dramatically at her surroundings. "So, what do you think?"

Gossamer describes her new HQ.

A solid call; I will start 'A Very Interceptors Christmas' sometime today/tonight.

The phantasmal flame held the shapeshifter's gaze transfixed as it flickered and danced before the changeling snuffed it out; Lynn shook her head and grinned. "Wow, that was cool; I could totally feel that, even smell it! But it was just an illusion? That's still super cool, though." She held out her hand and opened it to reveal a tiny porcelain figurine of Etain herself, complete with highly detailed clothing. "I can't produce any kind of energy, not even the illusion of it, but the stuff I make is as hard as stone, unless you touch it with iron; then it just melts away into nothing." She stood the figure up on the table between them, then folded her arms as she leaned forward to peer at it. "I don't even have to think about it; it just lasts until I dismiss it, or the iron thing happens." She created another figurine, this time of herself in her winter clothing, and placed it next to the first. "I wonder why our powers are so different, despite pretty much coming from the same place?"

Estelle's new home near Hanover Square. Wednesday, December 29th, 2010. 6:57 pm Standing in the middle of her brand-new kitchen, the blonde heroine known to the world as Gossamer was in heaven; the move was surprisingly painless considering it took place right in the middle of the holidays, and she was looking forward to hosting a splendid New Year's Eve bash to formally christen the place. But before all that madness, she was mostly looking forward to dinner tonight with Greg. They’d been dating steadily since October and things were going very well; physically they were compatible, enjoyed each other’s company immensely, and the regular patrols together gave the whole thing some extra spice. On their first real date, Estelle had promised to make Greg a homemade pizza, but she’d been putting if off for weeks, mostly because she wanted to do it at her new place; however various aspects of the remodel kept pushing back her move date, much to her frustration. It wasn’t until the week after Christmas that she was able to move in, but now that she was finally here, it was well worth the wait. Per her design, the kitchen with its massive brick oven was the heart of the home, quite literally since it was smack dab in the center of the building; the former warehouse had a thirty foot ceiling and an open plan, but Estelle had devised various ways to create more personal and intimate spaces. The kitchen was open on three sides, but surrounded by a horseshoe-shaped counter that also served as a bar, complete with red leather barstools; spread around the horseshoe were a formal dining area, a living room area with two sectional sofas and entertainment center, and a casual hangout area for jam sessions, complete with inexpensive sofas, neon bar signs, two pinball machines and a pool table. Behind and above the kitchen was a raised loft, with Estelle’s library and sleeping quarters, and below the loft were a small workout room and a full-sized swimming pool. Lastly she’d added a small enclosed recording studio to one corner of the loft, which she planned to use herself as well as make available to local artists. Over the whole of the space was suspended a tangled mass of pipes and odd metallic shapes, which served as both artistic decoration and an acrobatic arena for Gossamer to practice her hair-swinging moves. Chinese lanterns hung down from the rafters, spreading a warm welcoming light over the entire home, supplimented by various table lamps in the socializing areas and track lighting over the kitchen. For this occasion, Estelle was dressed down in jeans, faded AC/DC T-shirt and apron, her braided hair covered by a bandana as she rolled out the dough with a marble rolling pin, her hands and most of her face covered in fine flour as she hummed along with an Offspring song playing through her iPod docking station.

Gossamer invites Mad Dog over to her new HQ for homemade pizza, and much more!

Okay, I'm thinking most of the team (except poor Colt) would have family stuff the first half of Xmas day, so I was thinking the thread should take place around 7 or 8 pm on the 25th; does that work for folks? p.s. Don't worry, Q, because Grim's dad's side of the family is very much Italian-American (since Butch's dad is Jewish and his mom is Catholic, he's not even a Jew according to Talmudic law!), she will take him down to Atlantic City for family stuff; we could even do a seperate though somewhat confusing thread for the two of them.

Lynn's eyes went a little wide at the mention of the time difference. "Well I guess that explains your fashion sense, at least." She shook her head in disbelief. "I cannot imagine the culture shock you must be going through; things have changed like crazy in just my lifetime, and I'm only in my early twenties! Okay, I'm gonna gets me a pepper and egg sammich; they toast the bread and crumble feta cheese on it, which is soooo good." An energetic waitress with several facial piercings came by to take their orders, and complemented Etain on her cool retro wardrobe; once they were alone again, Lynn resumed their previous conversation. "So when you made all those knives and chains and stuff, that was glamour, right? You learned how to do that over there?"

Once they found a nice booth, Lynn scootched in, removed her jacket and hat (revealing non-pointed ears underneath) and picked up a laminated double-sided menu, printed on bright yellow paper. "Oh, are you doing a thing with your voice? Cool. Yeah, I figure it's easier to talk about weird stuff in a place like this then in a quiet resturaunt, y'know?" She scanned the menu with eager eyes. "To be honest, I don't need to eat or drink anymore, and I usually just glamour up food if I feel like eating something, but now and then I still like to eat the real stuff." She thumped her chest twice with a fist. "Because I'm real, dawg!" Lynn flashed the teenager a goofy grin, then looked back at the many tasty choices. "Ooh, pumpkin spice latte sounds nummy! So, can you tell me how long you were 'overseas', or at least how long since you've been back?"

Now it was Grim's turn to laugh. "Says the girl dressed like Mary Poppins? Not to dis the look, because it's kinda cool; I got to rock a hoop skirt myself a few weeks back." Then she peered down at her tight leather and nodded in agreement. "But you've gotta point; this look really only works if I'm punching folks or in certain clubs in Riverside." Her working clothes shifted and recombined into a more seasonal look; low-heeled boots, jeans, navy blue parka and a colorful alapca hat laced under her chin. "Okay, much better. You can call me Lynn like this; don't worry, my secret identity is paper-thin. C'mon, let's get you inside; I'm pretty much starkers all the time, so cold doesn't bug me too much." Lynn led Etain to a cozy hole-in-the-wall place called The Artful Dodger, fairly packed with shoppers coming in to warm up. A youthful singer/guitarist was playing an old Simon and Garfunkel song in the corner, and the freshly-made coffee and pasteries smelled simply delicious. "They've got booths in back, give us a bit more privacy."

The masked shapeshifter considered the younger woman coolly, taking all of her in with her dark brown eyes. "Huh...in a weird way, it sounds like we're polar opposites. I was born human, but at the moment of my death I was resurrected as a faerie beyond the Veil, in the Court of the Winter Queen." Grim stroked her chin thoughtfully. "So you're a changeling, huh? Very interesting." She looked over her shoulder across the parking lot towards the rest of the mall, then looked back at Etain. "You wanna get a cup of coffee?" She jerked a thumb back towards the holiday shoppers. "There's a great little cafe near here, and I have like a thousand questions, of which I'm guessing you will answer maybe five, tops."

Grim's eyes went wide, not in an entirely friendly way, and she took a step closer to Etain. "Whoa, whoa, back up a sec; are you telling me that you're fae? As in from Faerie?" Color rose up in her cheeks and the tips of her pointed ears. "How did you follow me when I was faded out?"

At the mention of the high school for metahumans, a dozen different expressions flickered over Grim's face, including recognition, interest, amusement and guilt. "Oh wow, you're one of those crazy youngins from across the river, huh? Heh, you kids today, with your powers and your rap music..." Suddenly her face clouded with concern. "Wait, what do you mean, 'one such as yourself'? And when exactly did you see me?"

"Oh, right." Grim returned to full size, then dismissed the wall with a wave of her hand; it melted into vapor and drifted off into the night. Once the security people arrived, she sheepishly dismissed the manacles as well after one of the officers scowled at her. "Sorry." As the captured thieves were being escorted into vehicles, the shapeshifter casually sauntered over to the girl in all the lace and corsets. "So, not bad for our first team-up, eh?" She extended a hand wrapped in a fingerless leather glove. "I'm Grimalkin, with the Interceptors. Nice to meecha."

Grim rolled the thief with the bloody nose onto his stomach, then bound his wrists and ankles with a set of conjured handcuffs; technically there werent as hard as the real thing would be, but they would do for now. "Okay, big guy, let's go see your friends." For the sake of expediency, she shrunk down to pixie size, took hold of the ruffian's collar and easily lifted him up before flitting over to deposit him next to the rest of his posse. The sight of such a diminutive creature carrying a full-grown man was quite bizarre. The tiny shapeshifter flickered back and forth surveying the area. "Is that all of them? Are we missing anybody?"