Heritage

Lynn snapped her phone shut and tossed it on Colt's bed. "We're meeting in Liberty Park, at Heroes Knoll, right now." She dropped her robe and shifted into her working clothes in one fluid movement. "Colt, I'm gonna need a lift...and maybe a gun." Suddenly, she stops herself and grabs her phone. "Y'know what, let me just check on Taylor; Jack might have been telling the truth about Wesley, but I still don't understand what the hell he meant by giving me that thing." She dialed up Taylor's number and nervously paced, waiting for the dimensional guardian to answer. "Pick up, pick up, pick up...Hello, Taylor? Ohmigod, are you okay? I think Jack might have gone crazy or something."

It looked like Colby's tip was right on the money; did she know this was going to happen, liker from reading tea leaves, or was she just a Freedom City cop long enough to know what tempted criminals? When the lizardmen revealed themselves, Blondie Grim dropped down low, apparently in fear, as she whispered over the comlink. "You seein' what ahm seein', Jackie? Looks like four tanks, two lieutenants and a high priest type, most of 'em scaly as a nest of cottenmouths!" "Darn it, these fellers got themselves a hostage; I'm gonna play a lil' peekaboo and see if I can free 'im, 'kay?" The blonde guide's face started to smear into Grim's as she faded from view, and the changeling moved soundlessly into position behind the scaly thug. Silently kissing her razor sharp claws for luck, she viciously sliced at the creature's back! With a gurgling cry, it collapsed, dropping its victim to the floor.

As fun as the Team Rocket reveal would be, Grim's gonna go for her specialty; a cheap shot while invisible. She switches her Glamour from Morph to Concealment (should be a free action), moves behind the lizzie holding up the hostage and pulls a "Sneak Attack!" Her Stealth is Auto 33, so let's see her to hit. Grim Sneak Attack: 1d20+12=28. Damage Save is DC 27 Toughness for Sneak Attack with Claws

In an instant, Lynn leaped to her feet, face twisted with disgust. "Oh my God, you did make it! You sick sunuva- Hell yeah, I can meet you somewhere! Where can we meet right now?" Clearly she was livid; in fact, Colt noticed her pointed ears were getting longer, her skin was turning reddish and small horns poked out of her forehead.

Grim was thoughtful enough to make Jack's outfit a tearaway :D

Lynn leaned back and made a horrified face. "Like he took it off...their neck? Eww, God, I hope not! Wait, he said it was a 'he', the previous owner was male...although, I guess...anything's possible..." She shook her head. "Y'know what, I'm just gonna call Wes right now, I don't care what time it is. We'll clear this up right away." She grabbed her cellphone and scanned through her Contacts. "Haven't used this number in a while..." "Hi Wes, it's Lynn, Epstein. Look, I'm sorry to call you so late, but I need to ask you about a certain head in a jar. Know what I'm talkin' about here?" Her tone was flippant on the surface, but there was a definite edge to her voice as well.

In no time, it seemed that friends and former teammates were coming out of the woodwork (literally, in Derrick and Stesha's case!), and the yard was now packed to the gills with superfolk. Wow, we gotta heck of a turnout! :shock: Lynn broke away from Jill and Moira to greet some of the other new arrivals, first checking in with the roguish Ace. "Hey, hey, you made it!" She gave the famous adventurer a firm hug, then she looked over her shoulder at his chosen mode of transport, and gave him a saucy look. "Y'know when I was a kid, I had a huge crush on Aladdin; went as Jasmine for Halloween three years in a row." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Good to see you, Ace." She then wandered off to do some more greeting, humming 'Prince Ali' as she went. Next she approached Derrick and Stesha, and she was instantly taken with the two floral arrangements. "Hi, you two! Oh my God, Stesh, you look awesome, and these flowers are heavenly!" She leaned in and took a deep breath; to her discerning nose, they were like complimentary pieces of music, almost an olfactory duet. "Wow, Stesha; you are the indeed the mistress of growing things! Here, let's set them...over here." She reached out both hands and conjured up a pair of flowers stands, upwind from the grill so their smell wouldn't be overwhelmed. "There we go!" She took the flowers and placed them carefully on the stands, then gave both heroes a quick hug. "So nice to see you guys! Sorry, I'll be back to talk later, I just need to say hi to a few more folks, okay?" Finally she came over to Elena and her new friend. "Lena! The dress! Is amazing! I am so stealing that design, and the sandals!" She gave her a quick friendly hug, then took a step back to take in her date. "And who is this? Dynamo said you were seeing someone...interesting?" She raised an eyebrow, but her smile was welcoming.

Per our conversation in chat, Colt's Auto DC 25 Notice check reveals that Butch smells of the demon weed! And pretty good stuff, from the smell of it.

Lynn leaned in close and and in a dull voice whispered into Colt's ear, "I lived here." The door opened, and a striking woman in her early fifties stood in the doorway; she had long dark hair and blue eyes that were so pale they were almost gray, like a wolf's. She wore a white long-sleeved shirt, narrow cut black jeans and socks, and her arms were crossed tightly across her chest. A white streak, starting at her temple, shot through her hair, and her face, though beautiful, was as expressive as stone. "You're late, Sheri." "I know, ma." Lynn could barely raise her eyes above her mother waist. "And your hair needs brushing." "I know." Her mother stepped back, allowing her daughter to enter, then her eyes fell upon Colt with the full weight of disapproval. She made no move to block him, but gave no indication he was welcome, either. Suddenly a warm masculine voice boomed from inside the trailer. "Sheri, baby! C'mere, ya little rat monkey!" "Hiya, pop!" Inside, the trailer was cramped but surprisingly cozy; low bookshelves lined the walls, crammed near to bursting with a wide variety of tomes. What little wall space there was was hung with Japanese pen and ink drawings of natural scenes, mountains and waterfalls mostly. Several abstract mobiles hung from the ceiling, and it looked like a very nice computer set-up was wedged in one corner. The smell of matzo ball soup, potato pancakes cooked in olive oil and savory briskest wafted from the kitchen area. An iPod hooked to an excellent pair of speakers was playing the Velvet Underground. Lynn herself had wrapped herself around a man in a wheelchair who wore a set of New Jersey Devils sweats; he wore a trim beard and had his long salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail. Though his face suggested he was around the same age as his wife, there was a light in his eyes that Colt recognized. "Oww! Holy sh##, honey, have you been workin' out? You're killin' me here!" Lynn laughed and brushed the hair out of her eyes, and for a moment the Lynn Colt knew was back again. "Sorry, sorry...it's just so good to see you!" "You too, Sher, you too." Lynn's mom moved briskly into the kitchen area to tend to dinner, while her father looked over his daughter's shoulder, attempting to get a better look at the handsome stranger. "Honey, you gonna introduce me to your friend?" "Oh, sorry, right!" Untangling herself from her father, Lynn scampered back to Colt's side and grabbed his arm. "Daddy, I want you to meet Billy Reynolds, aka Colt. Colt, this is my father, Harold Epstein." "Call me 'Butch', everybody does." Butch offered him a firm handshake. "And in the kitchenette is my mom, Elaine." Elaine looked up from the meal, stiffly raised a wooden spoon in greeting, and then returned to her work. Butch rolled backwards and indicated the couch with a casual wave of his arm. "Sit, sit, sit!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, hon!" Lynn released her loving death grip and made an odd sort of moaning sound. "Ohhhh, this is gonna be tough....really tough." She didn't say another word for the rest of the drive. Using the directions she'd given him from Google Maps, the cowboy was able to find Delilah Terrace with little difficulty; as Grim had mentioned, it was a trailer park directly under the flightpath of Atlantic City International less than a mile away, and while it was not the busiest airport in the world, there was considerable noise. Lynn mutely pointed at her parent's trailer, an odd little structure with several non-standard features, including solar panels, a wide variety of antennae and a wind gauge on the roof. A wheelchair ramp led to the front door, but Lynn stepped to once side behind a large evergreen bush, beckoning Colt to join her. She seemed to be having a little trouble breathing. "I just...I just need a minute. Oh God." Before his eyes, his girlfriend began to change; it was still clearly Lynn, but not a version he'd ever seen before. Her hair grew down to her shoulders, brown and slightly curly, and there were subtle changes to her the shape of her chin, cheeks and eyes, becoming less elfin. And there were scars, lots of small ones, especially around the eyes and forehead, and the bridge of her nose had clearly been broken. Even her posture was different: closed off, leaning slightly forward, left hand tightly gripping her right bicep. She could barely even make eye contact with Colt as she took his hand and lead him up the ramp. "Okay...let's do this..." Somehow, as she knocked on the door, she looked much younger and much older. "Ma, Pop, we're here!"

Grim's Notice: 1d20+14=22. Nope, nothin'.

Lynn takes Colt to meet her parents!

Sunday, June 21st, 7:05 pm. Southbound on the Garden State Parkway As Colt expertly wove his Stellar Cycle through weekend traffic, Lynn sat behind him, arms around his chest, her helmeted head resting on his broad shoulder. She was excited, proud and nervous, and a dozen other emotions chased themselves around her belly. But more than anything else, she was scared. Maybe even terrified. It had been over four years since she'd been home to see her parents, and in that time she'd become more than human, lived a whole lifetime and had her heart broken more than once. Will they like him? Will he like them? Will he still love me when he sees the craphole where I came from? She'd been quieter today than Colt had ever seen her, barely saying more than a sentence or two, sometimes barely above a whisper. Lynn squeezed her lover tighter and prayed.

The backrub did indeed help; Lynn was shaking a lot less, and the heaving stopped. She conjured up a towel to wipe her face, then turned to face Colt as she did her best to explain, a bit more slowly. "You don't understand, honey; I'm a shapeshifter, a faerie. There's a difference between making someone look like someone else, and actually, y'know, becoming someone." She raised her finger and shook it vigorously. "That thing, in the jar? Was me, a perfect match." She laughed weakly. "Jack was right about one thing; Wes does excellent work." She adjusted herself on the bed and grasped her boyfriend's hands. "The reason is looked the way it did...was because it was floating in a jar of alcohol, Colt. I could smell it, like a something from biology class. A specimen." Lynn shook her head. "It must have been in there for months, from the look of it." A dry heave hit her, and she nearly lost it again, but she caught herself and swallowed a few times. Holding out her hand, a glass of water appeared, which she drained in one go, after which the glass promptly disappeared. The changeling took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, so if I try to look at this logically and not go all spazzy, Wes must have made this head months ago, out of who or what I do not know, and gave it to Jack. No, wait, Jack said he got it from the 'original owner'...who the hell would want that?"

Estelle nodded as she sipped her champagne, genuinely interested in what Vivian was saying, which was a good thing, because it was much easier than politely faking interest. "Mmm, my family is actually of Norman descent; Thomas, Sieur de Haveilland, the Jurat of Guernsey is my ancestor." A lock of blonde hair rose up between them. "Which explains the similar hair color." She smiled as she swirled the bubbly around in her glass. "Y'know it's funny, I actually met a Viking two years ago; I think his name was...Ullgir? Something like that. He was lost in time and wandering the streets of the North End in his bearskins." Estelle laughed at the memory. "I bought him a steak dinner and we had a sort of picnic in Liberty Park. I wonder if he made it home all right..."

Grim-nitiative: 1d20+12=28

Grim has an Auto 28 for Bluff.

Lynn shook her her head and laughed mirthlessly. "That's not why I'm worried, Colt; Jack asked me to meet him in the Veteran's Cemetery tonight. But he was acting all weird, like, I dunno, like his emotions were all over the place. And then he laughed, like it was all a big joke, and he gave me-" Suddenly she burst into tears and wrapped her arms around herself. "He gave me a head, in a jar. It was my head, Colt; he said that Wesley made it, and it-" The petite brunette abruptly leaned over the edge of the bed and loudly threw up, luckily into a bucket she instinctively created. Tears were streaming down her face, and her whole body shook. "Oh God, it was horrible. It had muh-my eyes, but one eyelid was all puh-peeled back, and the muh-mouth was all tw-twisted..." The memory produced another bout of violent retching.

Gossamer's Initiative: 1d20+7=16

Estelle cocked an elegant eyebrow, then pursed her lips in thought. "As a matter of fact, I think I could get some; let me make a quick phone call." She flipped open her cell and hit speed dial. "Yes, hello, is this Rudy? It's Doctor de Havilland...yes, it's Estelle...well I'm doing fine, except for that fact that we had a break-in downstairs and-...no, I assure you, I'm fine...yes...just a few bumps and bruises..." Somewhat embarrassed, she turned her back to the rest of the group, and started twisting a lock of hair around her finger as her voice got just a little huskier. "So listen, Rudy, I was wondering if if you could do me a little favor...Oh good, that's just what I wanted to hear! Um, I need to borrow some jetpacks...well, they don't have to be actual jetpacks; anti-gravity belts, atomic pogosticks or anything of that sort would do fine, as long as they're fast and we can get them right away...Yes, I need a pair of them; we can mix and match the technology, as long as they can both make good speed...Really? That's just wonderful! Dinner? Uh, well, yes...yes...okay, when?...That's fine...I'll see you then...Thank you, Rudy! You're a dear!" Snapping her phone closed, Gossamer sighed deeply. "Well we've got flying devices of some kind on the way, and I have dinner plans for Friday night. So that's that."

Connected (Diplomacy) check: 1d20+7=15 (19 if Attractive applies). Too bad she didn't have Skill Mastery back when this thread started :(

Estelle nodded uncomfortably. "Right...how unfortunate..." She had no idea what to say; the sad fact was, most of the people she spoke with on a daily basis were either working their dream job, or were wealthy enough that they didn't have to work. At least she'd offered to help Vivian with her grant proposals as opposed to just throwing money at the problem, which Estelle found most people resented. Time to shift the conversation in a different direction; focus on her interests and give her a chance to really shine. "So, what's your specialty? American? European? Middle Eastern?" She sipped her champagne, offering the history major her undivided attention.

Lynn waved her hands and then zipped her lips. "Look, forget I even brought it up, okay? I know protecting you means everything to Jack, and he's a good friend and a teammate, so I gotta respect that." She looked over her shoulder towards the rest of the complex. "Um, I really gotta take a shower now, and rehydrate and all that. You don't have to leave or anything; you can hang her all day for all I care, but I don't want to be rude, so..."

Something about this last statement raised Lynn's hackles, and she took a tentative step away from Kris. This did not sound good at all. "Uh, interesting choice of words there, buddy; would you rephrase that for me? High school dropout, so you know I'm kinda slow..." Below the edge of the table, the changeling's fingers began to twitch, and thin traces of vapor rose from her palm.

I assume this is doable, but what would she use? Spend an HP? Roll a Connections check?