Heritage

Grim leaned back to peer in the direction her fiancé (whee!) was indicating. “Oh, that? That is the holy of holies, o best beloved.†Gingerly extracting herself from his embrace, he fished out a large bundle of old-looking keys as she approached the door. “That's where my Great-Grampa Ira, aka the Amazing Al-Kazar, left all his props and stuff when he upped and disappeared back in 1957. I haven’t been in there since before I was born.†She undid the lock and pulled the door open, which filled the air with the smell of dust, old leather and decaying fabric. Inside there were several heavy black trunks and suitcases neatly stacked against the walls, and a large standing mirror with a gilded wood frame partially covered by a sheet. “Whoa, that’s the mirror me and Ren used to go come back to the present! Well, the weird messed-up present we had to fix.†She yanked the sheet off, sending clouds of dust in all directions. Her reflection was there, normal as could be, but still she felt a shiver go down her spine. "Wow…déjà déjà vu.â€

Grim's eyes glazed over a bit as Fulcrum explained the more technical side of how her powers worked, but she picked up on the general vibe, which also triggered a memory. "Oh wow! So that's why Jackie B freaked out during that charity match back in February; he was picking up on the dark side of your mojo." The tiny shapeshifter held up her hands and laughed. "Hey, as long as Dok's magic bracelets have got the whole Terminus thing under control, you're cool by me. We definitely need to come up with some one-two punch tactics; I set 'em up, you knock 'em down!"

It was one of the peculiar quirks of her animated hair that it tended to coil even tighter when she was talking to someone in her field, as though it wanted to disappear altogether; she actually heard her braid creak just a little bit under the strain. Nonetheless, her smile was warm yet professional and her handshake firm. "Dr Estelle de Havilland, of ASTRO Labs; a pleasure, Dr Fraser." Sadly it seemed like there was a bit of history between Vivian and Fraser; Estelle was hoping to sneak in at least a little shop talk with a peer. She smiled politely and waited for a natural break in the conversation. As she observed the two, she noticed an odd undercurrent to their interaction, especially on the Scottish chemist's side. Was their relationship more serious than they let on? She sensed a shared past and private jokes; ex-lovers? Ultimately, of course, it was none of her business, and she chose to use her powers of observation for good. Her eyes wandered about the room; giant robot, amazingly beautiful woman with arms like mighty pistons, the hated Liebniz...Viktor certainly knew a lot of interesting people! What? Oh, he works in organics! I must see if I can get a moment- But it seemed it would have to wait. Gossamer found her designated seat with its crisp little placard, and happily took it; as much as she loved the heels she was wearing this morning, her feet were already killing her. She discreetly slipped a tendril down to slip off a shoe and rub her tender foot. Once again, I am the victim of fashion...and my own vanity. :roll: Noticing the blonde Amazon standing nearby, Estelle politely cleared her throat and indicated the seat next to her. “You’re welcome to take this seat, miss; Dr Arbogast is a colleague, and was called out of town at the last minute.â€

Oh jeez, the one time I really don't care if she makes her Bluff check, she nails it :roll: Bluff check: 1d20+4=23 Oh well, she's not gonna make a big deal of it, and won't assumes he's Arrowhawk or anything.

Estelle's head jerked a little as if she'd been struck in the face; she barely heard Nick's introduction as she absently shook his hand while her analytical mind tried to figure out exactly how she could have offended this woman. I've heard about haunted houses having 'cold spots', but really! I'm surprised I can't see my breath! By the time Professor Fried approached her, she was able to shake her head clear of such disturbing thoughts. "Mmm, indeed, Professor; let's hear it for the hard sciences, eh?" Hefting her various bags in long golden limbs, Gossamer nodded. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, Jennifer; please lead the way!"

Lynn's eyes lit up as she rubbed her hands together eagerly as she called out to the empty air. "Like it, I love it!" She blinked at the bizarre gorilla-butler-bot for a few seconds, then decided to test out her faerie gift for langauges. "Uh, okay, 'Bring mich zu eurem Führer!' Ooh, that came out wrong, sorry!" However, the ape appeared to take no offense (or salute either, thank God) as it turned and ambled along, leading her down one of the hallways from which wafted a delightful array of aromas hailing from the Subcontinent. "Mmm, it smells amazing, Dok! Gotta say, I love the ape, but have you ever considered Oompa-Loompas? I'm just sayin'."

Well at least that was a relief. Grim pondered a number of directions to take the conversation in, but then a thought struck her: Eddie needed a friend now, not a spy in a fancy Russian package. She turned the various factors over in her head; since he was no longer attending Claremont or dating Zoe, and was in fact a pariah with the whole YF crowd, he really wasn't a good source of intel. Heck, he might want to dish more on his ex if he knew the truth. Regardless, the shapeshifter felt the benefits far outweighed the risks. Leaning over the table, Lenya firmly grasped the young man's hand, a very serious expression clouding her lovely features. "Eddie, you must come with me; most important things to tell you, but away from this crowd, to quieter place." She practically dragged him into a dark corner, looking around to make sure no one else could see them. “Eddie, I have not been full of truth with you; some things about me you do not know.†She sighed deeply. “Eddie, there is no Lenya Sokolov; never have I been to Russia, or even out of the United States. I am a fraud, Eddie; I am actually-“ And then 'Lenya' peeled away into vapor, revealing a petite leather-clad brunette in her place! "Grimalkin, of the Interceptors." She hung her head in shame. “If you wanna take a swing at me, y’know, feel free.â€

Dok A invites Grim over to his house; what could be wrong with that? :twisted:

October 5th, 2010 (Tuesday). 12:05 pm For some reason she wasn't quite sure of, Lynn Epstein really seemed to come alive in the fall; it had always been her favorite season ever since she was little. Somehow the heady mix of back to school, the High Holidays and the looming specter of Halloween practically made her skin tingle with excitement. This fine autumn day she was flying over Hanover, which really looked amazing from her pixie’s eye view, the tree-lined streets all turned to explosions of red, yellow and orange by the crisp October air. As she banked over quiet Dyson Drive, she had her eyes peeled for number 1894, the home of her eccentric employer Herr Doktor Viktor Archeville, who had called to invite her over last night. She’d never been to his home, and imagined it looking like something out of a crazy kids movie, like Dick Van Dyke’s home in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang; but now as she approached it, she was somewhat disappointed to see it looked much like any other house on the block. Grim landed out of sight halfway up the block, behind a low fence where she could resume her human proportions safely out of sight. Once back to her full five feet three inches, she happily strolled up the street, smiling at the various spooky decorations Doc’s neighbors were already putting up in their windows and in their front yards. For this visit, she chose her normal face but with her pointed ears molded into a more conventional rounded shape, and she proudly wore a Freedom College hooded sweatshirt with her faded jeans and red Converse Hi-Tops. As she walked up towards Doc’s front door via the cobblestone path, she grinned at his lawn decorations. Cool, garden gnomes! She was about to reach out to pat one on the head, but thought the better of it and withdrew her hand; for all she knew, they were real gnomes held in stasis force fields watching over the house, or something equally bizarre. Instead she marched up to the front door, rang the bell and then eagerly bounced on the balls of her feet waiting for a response, hands jammed in her hoodie pockets.

When she saw a gaggle of folks heading for the inside stairs, Chica!Grim angrily stomped her foot. "" Using all of her adrenalized strength, she yanked open the window, slamming the sash so hard some of the glass panes cracked. The changeling stuck her hand out the window and conjured up an evacuation slide like she’d seen on TV and in movies. Looking over her shoulder, the faux Latina yelled at the crowd. "" Reaching up to her earpiece, Grim at first forgot to change languages as she shouted over the mayhem. "" She cleared her throat and continued; the voice didn’t sound like Grim, but her distinctive inflections and cadences were very much in evidence. "Okay, I’m back and I’m using English! Can you see my slide? I’m trying to avoid a stampede on the stairs!"

As the game was discussed, Grim began to get more animated, more like her usual self. "Well, you don't have to stick to walls to play it; that's just one setting I sometimes use." She indicates the walls, ceiling and floor with a wave of her hand. "Basically you use the holo projector things to illuminate panels in the simlator; me, I like them to be about ten feet apart, to give me a little space. And then they change colors and stuff to music, and you have to throw yourself around like a crazy person to match the patterns." She gestured at Fulcrum. "I mean, I guess you could do like a flying version, which would be awesome to watch...though you might look light a moth trapped in a light fixture..." :? Shaking off the silly though slighty disturbing image, she shrugged. "I dunno, should I fire it up? Or should I say-" And suddenly Grim was a glamourous 1950s starlet, wrapped in a mink stole and red sequins, batting her big lashes at the nearest monitor. "Should Vince, the world's sexiest and most available AI bachelor, do the honors?" :twisted:

There was very little acting required of Grim at this point; Lenya’s mouth hung open in mute astonishment as the harrowing tale (or at least Eddie’s side of it) flopped out on the table like a big stinky sea bass. When he finished, a string of Russian expletives came tumbling out of her as she became more and more animated until she got short of breath and had to stop. “Maybe it was good thing I'm not attending in Claremont…†:shock: Suddenly the beautiful blonde locked angry eyes with the young man’s and she jabbed an accusing finger in his face. “This is bad things you have done; you know this, yes? You are in school, so I have guessed no crimes are on your record, but this is-“ She slapped her hand on the table, making it jump several inches off the floor. “You are sypergyeroi! You have a most precious gift! You have good big heart!†She lunged across the table and slapped Eddie hard in the middle of his chest. "So a girl breaks it, you do this things? Oh, Eddie, Eddie…†Lenya shook her head and sighed as tears welled up in her eyes. "You have made your life most hard, and yet not all is on you; this girl, this 'Zoe' is no good for you. We must find you good girl, to make the start of better things.†Once again Grim was amazed at the things that came out of her mouth in this form; what exactly was she implying? Was she going to play 'Yente the Matchmaker' for this juvenile delinquent in training? Or something far worse? She did, however, find this odd Russian mouthpiece to be a good way of channeling her anger and disappointment with Eddie; who knows, maybe a little tough love was just what he needed?

Ecal, a reminder that you probably don't need, but what the heck: Arrowhawk and Gossamer have met (IN SPAAAAACE!), but he has a secret ID and she doesn't. I don't think your post would look any different either way, but just in case ;)

One of the top ten things you don't want to have happen while you're visiting prison is hear explosions; nothing good ever comes of them. "Fan-freakin'-tastic, sounds like somebody up there really does like Boltie, that or his crazy buddies showed up with a bazooka. I'm gonna have a quick look-see." In a flash, the tiny changeling became far tinier as she shrank down to pixie form and zipped outside to see what the ruckus is all about.

Sorry, dude, it dropped off my radar yet again. If you don't put a post up by tonight, I will do an IC.

'Lenya' turned, and for a moment Grim felt her stomach sink; if there were any doubts that Eddie had changed, they were now shattered. The young man who stood before her was leaner and had an almost feral glint in his eyes; this was an Eddie who could put innocent lives in danger, who could kill for love. My God, he's become the Big Bad Wolf With tremendous effort, the shapeshifter kept her thoughts to herself and her fears off of Lenya's happy face. "Eddie! So good to be seeing you!" The Russian beauty practically lept to her feet and pinned the boy in a fearsome bear hug, then gave him a quick kiss on each cheek. "Oh, you are looking very good, my friend!" She raised a hand to her lower lip. "Ah, you've grown the soulful patch; it suits for you." She motioned for him to sit, and then sat down herself. "So, how is school and everyone there? Is this your last year at Claremeont, or do you have yet more classes next year?"

At first Estelle was quietly annoyed when the German uber-genius moved on to other guests, but she certainly couldn’t begrudge a host his duties; however much to her relief, Vivian seemed to visibly relax as soon as he was gone. Estelle's smile became a bit friendlier as she shook her head slightly. "Not at all...well, a little bit. Technically, that's eveningwear." She indicated her own outfit with a wave of her free hand. "It's traditional to wear lighter colors early in the day, especially in the summer. But as my mother used to say, you can pull of virtually any outfit with enough confidence and poise." She shrugged. "So act like you own the place, and who knows, you just might start a fashion revolution." Estelle beamed and held her glass aloft. "Excellent news, Herr Doktor!" She inclined her head in the new arrival's direction. "I'd be happy to speak with you, sir, at your convenience, of course."

A taxi pulled up across the street, and out stepped Dr Estelle de Havilland (aka Gossamer), the noted chemist, socialite and superhero; she wore a khaki photographer's vest over her usual blue-and silver protective jumpsuit. The driver popped open the trunk, and Estelle sent several tendrils in to hoist out three very different pieces of luggage: a stylish leather overnight bag, a solidly-built equipment case that rolled on set of small swivel wheels, and a large traditional backpack, complete with a rolled-up sleeping bag strapped to the bottom of the aluminum frame. She extended a large bill via a friendly tentacle to the driver, who happily accepted it an drove off into the night. Unfurling her hair to maximum photogenic effect, she stepped across the street, he luggage in tow, and offered a friendly wave and dazzling smile to the press as she headed towards the loose cluster of fellow paranormal investigators. "Hello, hello! Goodness, aren't we a diverse lot!" She noted Fusion's tentacles, raised her eyes to examine her own mass of flexible limbs and grinned. "Well, I always knew we'd have to meet one day; let's do our best not to tie each other in knots, shall we?" She offered the masked heroine a friendly handshake. "Dr Estelle De Havilland; a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fusion." She then turned to the others. "Professor Fried, nice to see you again, and you are be...?"

Grimalkin as Lenya meets up with Breakdown at a local juice bar. And yes, she's working her Enhanced Charisma again :twisted:

Friday, October 1st, 2010. The Midnight Hour, 7:58 pm Grimalkin, or rather the stunning ‘Lenya Sokolov’, sat patiently in one of the booths on the main floor, a little ways back from the dance floor. The layout and décor where a lot different than the last time she’d been here, what, two years ago? Now that she was old enough to legally drink she found little reason to hang out in the popular juice bar, but both Lenya and Eddie were underaged, so it seemed like a safe bet. The music wasn’t quite to her taste, upbeat technopop with repetitive digital bass thumping; thank God she wasn’t drinking anything harder than overpriced blueberry-pomegranate juice or else her head would be pounding by now. In a lot of ways, this was a horrible mistake: she was engaged, Eddie was just a kid and more than likely soon to be expelled from Claremont, so his value as a source of intel was minimal, and any additional contact with him merely risked blowing her cover. She hadn’t told either Colt or Dr Archeville about this meeting, though she wouldn’t lie to them if they asked her directly. What did she hope to gain by reestablishing Lenya’s friendship with Eddie? In all honesty, she wasn’t quite sure; part of it was the thought of Breakdown being thrown out of his team, a team which all his friends still belonged to, at least as far as she knew. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if that ever happened to her, God forbid that ever came to pass. The whole story about the junior prom was very disturbing; it sounded like Eddie was this close from turning to the dark side, a very real possibility in the crimefighting world. How many cases were there of a hero choosing the wrong path, even as villains had come back to the light? Of course she in no way condoned his earlier actions, but the thought of the tremendous inner turmoil he must be feeling stabbed her in the gut. So she’d sent him an email in her Lenya persona, stating that she was back in the States for a few months and planned to visit Freedom, and was looking forward to seeing him; dshe’d played it entirely innocent, and Eddie’s reply was vague on details, but he was very clear in his desire to see her again. She took another sip of 'money juice' and absently ran a hand through her shoulder-length blonde hair as her dark eyes scanned the entrance for Eddie’s arrival. Like her stylish Italian motorcycle jacket tossed casually over the back of her chair, her jeans and low leather boots were jet black, and the sleeves of her No Doubt T-shirt appeared to have been razored off, exposing the full length of her pale-skinned arms. It was still early, but a lot of pimple-faced club kids had already checked her out. Yep, I’m going to Hell; a new specially-made Jewish hell just for sneaky girls like me. :roll:

Estelle warmly returned the hug, carefully holding her drink so it would spill down his ubiquitous lab coat "Viktor! Thank you so much for the invitation!" She indicated the other guests with a wave of her glass. "I see how it is; you don't invite any other chemists so you can keep me to yourself, you, you generalist you!" Though her tone was scornful, there was an obvious twinkle in her eye. The abrupt arrival of Vivian, whom she'd met during a previous library visit, caused Estelle to raise an eyebrow. Overdressed, a little pushy...is she actually drunk? There were no other signs of intoxication, but Estelle raised her social force fields nonetheless; situations like this had a tendancy to get out of control rather fast. She responded to the overeager historian in a friendly tone of voice, but the truly observant would detect a hint of formality in her tone and traces of scanning behaviour as the scientist/socialite did her best to read the scene. "How nice to see you again, Vivian! To be honest, I'm a bit surprised to see you immersed in the cold analytical world of science; usually one discusses history in a warm book-lined burrow over a nice cup of hot tea." She turned her head, and a golden frond loosened from her braid to extend her eyeline to indicate the waiter. "That gentleman over there has the mimosas; I'd reach out and fetch one for you, but I'm afraid I'd clothesline somebody."

Yet another rented limo pulled up in front of the library, and the lovely Dr. Yvonne de Havilland stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was a lovely summer day and she'd chosen a relatively simple lightweight dress for the occasion, as she didn't expect to spend too much time chatting about outfits. As was often the case, her amazing hair was twisted into a thick golden braid that hung straight down her back and brushed against her shoes. She was a bit later than she planned to be, but traffic had been fairly horrendous and a fair number of taxis and limos were backed up in front of the library for today's brunch. It will be good to see Viktor again, and maybe a few other familair faces? Unfortunatly something else famialr was waiting outside her limo: a gaggle of papparazzi and photographers, eager to pry out a tidbit about Divine, whom she was currently dating. "Gossamer, can you just-" "Doctor de Havilland, can you-" "Just one smile, Goldilocks, whaddya say?" Employing a familiar tactic, she unfurled her hair intom a golden dome that completely enclosed her, leaving only her feet and a small window for her face exposed. The bizarre umbrella, blazing under the glare of the flash photography, rose up the library steps and disappeared inside, where Estelle leaned up against the glass door and sighed I do not like this; it's really starting to lose its appeal But now she was safe within the walls of a noble institution and she could breathe again. Carefully putting her braid back in place, she made her way to the meeting room and still managed a fairly impressive entrance. As always, she was happy to see Doc, but there was also Dragonfly from the audtions last month and Vivian from the library staff. Friendly faces indeed! She gratefully accepted a mimosa in a tall thin flute from a waiter's tray, and decided to hang back a bit and get a feel for the room. Her ears strained to pick out snippets of conversation. Physics. Again. :roll: She sighed despite herself as she shook her head slightly. It's always the physics nerds at these sorts of events; where are all the lab rats smelling of potassium permanganate?

Ooooooo, my original post vanished; how spooky! As a huge fan of ghosts and haunted houses, I would love to join this; I had the same idea as Try, with Gossamer as a scientific type. Also kudos on the thread title; The Haunting is my favorite scary movie!

Looking forward to you and AW's return, Durf!

Somehow it just occured to me now that this would be a perfect fit for Gossamer. Can she still arrive fashionably late?