Heritage

Grim nods vigorously at this observation. "You're right about the lack of street trash, Ace; a night like this, you would normally see a few dealers out, like down in one of those doorways, maybe even a few girls workin' it, but there is no one out. I've seen more criminal activity on Christmas! I think the word is out and people are spooked about something."

Would a Knowledge: Streetwise roll of 23 get me anything?

Lynn watches the transformation in quiet awe; there's a lot she can't make out even with her night-adapted eyes due to the glare of daylight, but the tantalizing glimpses send shivers down her spine. She laughs in disbelief. "Are you kidding, that was awesome! The crunchy bone noises were kinda gross and disturbing, but other than that, two thumbs way up!" She peers into the inky blackness as best she can. "Alright, you're gonna have to come out of there someday, dude; just rip the Band-Aid off already and strut your funky stuff."

The shapeshifter seems a little put off by the sudden display of warmth on Phantom's part. "Uh, sure, no problem, it's cool. And what you said about the Primal, that makes sense; I got the creepiest feeling from that last message on the machine, like someone was wiggling their fingers in my gut." She visibly shudders. "I think whoever left that message came from one of those realms, too." Grim gets up and starts to nervously pace the room. "So, where to next? Anything we can get from here?" She starts sniffing around the couch and glasses. "I'm pretty good at tracking, though maybe you magical detection system might work better on this."

Lynn gives Wes a long, penetrating look. "Maybe I'm wrong, but I get the sense your kind of an old-fashioned guy...who does tattooing. That being said, I'm gonna totally spoil this for you and order for both of us, okay?" She smiles, reaches across the table and gives his hand a little squeeze. "I'll try not to make a habit of it, I promise." When the waitress comes by, the pretty brunette orders samosa and sev puri for appetizers, the batakanu sak for Wesley and toor dal for herself, and a large order of pulao for both of them. When the naan arrives with the dipping sauce, she tears into it with a vengeance, and very little decorum. The waitress also brings by a pot of tea and ice waters for both guests. "So what I said about visiting you at the parlor someday, could I do that? Would that be cool? I wanna watch you work." It's a little bit of work to make out her words over all the chomping ;)

I'm in...IN STONE!

Grim untangles herself from Ace and brushes her hair out of her eyes."Looks like; you want to team up with the Knights on this one?" Edge's unabashed fanboy worship brings a smile to her face. Now how come I don't get all worked up like that? I'm I such a jaded soul at the venerable age of twenty-one? "...And some of us are just eating sandwiches, but yeah, I think you're right. Nice to meet you, Dusk." Grim looks around at the very large group of heroes now gathered up here, a concerned frown on her face. "Um, should be maybe split up or pair off? I think we might be scaring away all the big fish with our little rooftop hero convention."

Estelle raises an elegant eyebrow as she watches the good doctor's interaction with the lovely young waitress. A former conquest? No surprising, based on his considerable charm. "It's nice, I like it," she says, nodding in approval; she orders a pint of Hofbräuhaus Sommerbier and the baked camembert with lingonberry jam, a roll and salad to get started. "Getting back to what you said earlier, about finding the extraordinary within the ordinary; I couldn't agree more." She waits until Archeville's drink arrives, then raises her pint in salute. "To the ordinary, extraordinary and all the bits in between."

Grim also has Immunity: Aging, so she could actually be around, a rather disturbing thought!

Grim nods as she takes a seat across from her teammate and starts idly drumming her fingers on the table, before she works up the nerve to say what needs to be said. "I dunno how sensitive your mystical radar is, but I'm guessing it's good enough that you can that you can tell...I went back. Through the veil, to Avalon." She rubs her face with her gloved hands. "I don't plan on going back ever again, because it seriously sucked over there, but I had to understand what I am, why I'm not human anymore. And I'm sorry if that, y'know, damaged the veil some more." She sighs and looks sincerely apologetic "It won't happen again, I promise."

Durf, I'm assuming from your last post that Ace was not hiding in anyway, but also was not doing anything to draw attention to himself; I had Grim Notice him with her sharp ears in a non-combat situation involving friendlies. I can change it if there's any concerns.

Grim nods with appreciation as she reads Breakdown's card. "Very cool. I'll have to hear you spin someday" She tucks it into a pocket that appears on her hip. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's Grimalkin, or just Grim. And here...is my card." She flicks her hand out and a business card blinks into existence between her index and middle fingers. As soon as he finishes reading it, it disappears a puff of mist. "Sorry, I only have the one." The pint-sized heroine shakes her head and smiles. "Yeah, sure, whatever :roll: We could use a few more sets of eyes on this one, as long as you can guarantee your parents won't sue us if you die or anything." Suddenly she cocks her head to one side, then spins on her heel. "Ace! What are you doing here?" She quickly crosses the distance in between and gives the veteran adventurer a crushing hug.

There is a notable amount of fear in her voice when Lynn speaks. "It'll be back, way in the back; the darkest part of the darkness." She looks over her shoulder back to the brightly lit street behind them. "C'mon, lets get a little farther in so you can work your magic." As she walks, her grip on Sirius' hand gets tighter and tighter, stopping just short of causing him physical pain. "God, I think I'm gonna be sick..." :(

On paper, PL8 Grim can take 10 and get a 47 on her Disguise check, but I think that might blow past the caps. As always, she uses Create Object for props, but there's no way in hell she can actually light the cigarette.

Grim shakes her head, a sly look on her face. "We don't need him, we need the idea of him; I mean, sure, if we can get the real deal, awesome, let's do it. But if we can't get him, we can look into alternatives." Suddenly her form is clouded by mist, and she assumes the form of one of her heroes, Sergeant Shrapnel; she's complied the likeness from pictures and newsreel footage she's seen over the years and it's pretty damn impressive. 'He' fishes a rumpled cigarette out of his ammo belt and sticks it in the corner of 'his' mouth, though actually lighting it is beyond Grim's capabilities. "If someone has a good idea of what he looks like, Scarab puts it in my head and I make with the magic." Sarge mimes taking a drag off his smoke then flicks it away, the cig winking out of existence before it hits the ground; the shapeshifter assumes her own form seconds later. "I'm not saying it's a whole plan, but it can be part of one, or at least a back-up."

Despite herself, Estelle is flattered that Summers know her work so well, though as she ponders it perhaps it's more of a background check? Certainly a man in his position must think first and foremost for his student's security and safety. The beautiful blond takes her time in responding to his question, her chin lightly resting on her steepled fingers; her words are very carefully chosen. "The unfortunate reality is that the world of academic research can be just as shallow and fame-driven as Hollywood; it's not who you are but who you know. Name recognition, jockeying for position, ridiculous disputes over payment, it's all the same." She holds her hands behind her back, closes her eyes and sighs deeply. "Since my transformation, it seems...no one cares about the work anymore. I receive more garbage mail disguised as research proposals than my PO box can hold; all you need to do is read the first paragraph, and it's clear they have no idea what my areas of expertise are or even a passing familiarity with my work. They just want to share some lab time with the celebrity chemist, or worse, play out an elaborate fantasy in which I take off my glasses, my hair cascades out of my bun and we end up in the sack." Estelle shakes her head and laughs mirthlessly. "It's everything I had to overcome in Harvard all over again, and I just don't have the stomach for it anymore." She sighs again, a look of forlorn resignation on her face. "But I will not be thrust into a role; if I chose not to throw cars at giant mole men from beneath the Earth's crust, then I must contribute to society in another way. I am comfortable in an academic environment, and have done a great deal of student teaching and acted as a student peer advisor. And I recently received my state accreditation for secondary school teaching, a course of study I pursued solely to teach at your school." The chemist stops in her tracks and smiles. "I don't need the money; I know you'd have to pay me something for legal reasons, but that would probably just go to charity or to start some sort of college fund. That being said, I come extremely cheap for a woman with my credentials. And if you'll have me, I would protect each and every one of your students with my dying breath, because to me what you're doing here is just short of sacred: you're teaching young men and women with powers out of myth and legend ethics, and I want very much to be a part of that."

Grim's stomach does a little involuntary flip. And why do I just know I'm going to meet the owner of that creepy-ass voice? She watches the mystic lay out objects, like a cop or a lawyer on one of the those Law & Order shows, and suddenly she gets Phantom; it's not friendship or even respect, just a glimpse of understanding. "So stuff like this, it's interdimensional contraband or something, right? Black market magical hoodoo that gets people killed, just like crack or Saturday night specials?" Grim's dark eyes narrow, and she speaks plainly, without malice. "Did you lose somebody to stuff like this? Is that why you're such a hag sometimes, or is it just the badge?" She absently points at the amulet on her throat.

Grim thoughtfully strokes her chin in a somewhat exaggerated fashion. "Ah yes, 'summer break': I'm sure I would have remembered that if I hadn't dropped out after freshman year..." She throws up her hands in an easy shrug. "Oh well, need to work on that GED this fall. So, teenage superheroes! That's kinda cool, though I have to ask the obvious question: do your parents know you're out gallivanting about at all hours, and keeping disgusting sandwich-like objects in your utility belt? Seriously, that is messed up." Then she turns her attention to Breakdown. "And you, Pastrami! That's cool what you did with the music there." She points at her ear and shakes her head in wonder. "The acoustics or whatever were awesome, especially the bass." Remembering her manners, she looks over her shoulder at her fellow Knight and looks a touch embarrassed. "Oh, sorry, this is Phantom; she seems to follow me around a lot." She leans forward and offers a conspiratorial wink. "I think she's gotta 'thing' for me, if you know what I mean." ;)

Grim looks into the depths of Phantom's cloak and feels a finger of ice go down her spine. It looks like death in there... The faeling nods vigorously and points at Doc with both hands. "Yes, yes, this man is right; I can see why he's a genius. If I'm goin' into the Spooky Land of Dark and Swirly, we need a plan and I need some Scotch; if we're outta Scotch, I at least need cherry Pez." She holds up her hand like she's at school, not the manic Hermione Granger 'pick me, pick me' flailing, just 'present'. "So let's see a show of hands on our sneaky people; if there's one thing I learned from watching my brother play D&D, it's that you send the thieves in first. And always loot the bodies."

Aw, man! Just when she was getting ready to play with these guys' heads, Phantom has to show up and go all copycat. Oh well, might as well play nice. The pretty young shapeshifter appears on the rooftop in a swirl of mist, hands jauntily on hips. "Alright, you crazy kids, what are you doin' out on school night? And don't try and tell me you're doin' this for extra credit!"

The pretty brunette waves her hand dismissively. "Ah, don't worry about it; we're all freaks on this train." She rides the rest of the way in silence, lost in thought. About twenty minutes later, the pair are entering an alley in the Fens, just off of Broadway; it's a dark and twisted space, and Lynn noticeably recoils from the rusted fire escapes that crawl up the walls like spidery vines. The buildings lean together, blocking out almost all sunlight, and bold mangy rats skitter from shadow to shadow. "Oh God; this is...this is worse than I remember." Lynn reflexively reaches out and takes Sirius' hand, and gives it a nervous little squeeze.

Grimalkin is happy to be sent ahead by the team as a scout; she'd never been the best at front line combat anyway, and the same skills that made her possibly the world's greatest shoplifter back in the day were also excellent for being sneaky in more law-abiding ways. Slipping unseen through the streets of Greenbank, she is suddenly assaulted by a stench so foul, so ungodly, that she must seek out its source, and if need be lay it to rest, quite possibly for the second time. She quickly traces it to a nearby building, specifically the roof; the old cast iron fire escape is right out, since she gets queasy even looking at it, which combined with the mysterious smell nearly makes her toss her cookies. Instead the young shapeshifter adopts the Goblin's form and silently clambers up the side of the building, until she reaches the summit, where she climbs forward to find- Two young guys having a snack; from their outfits, they look like heroes, or more likely hero wannabes. Seeing they pose no real threat, she sheds her more terrifying form while still remaining unseen. God, how I hate poseurs. :roll: One of them is eating a delightful-smelling pastrami sandwich, while the other...is holding the abomination, a nightmare made flesh. The sight of someone holding that thing, and from the look of it consuming it for sustenance, proves to be too much for the young heroine; unbidden, her voice floats out into the night. "Oh my god, that is gross!"

Taking 10 on Stealth for 32 with Hide in Plain Sight.

Grim gave her the rundown as quickly as she could as she deftly weaved through traffic (thank god for headsets!) on her way to Archeville's, but another call came in from Avenger, which had her slamming on the breaks, hopping the curb and peddling like a woman possessed on her way to Liberty Park. A quick redial to Moira insured that Divine would be able to join the rest of them when- Her bike safely locked up some distance away, a once-more-in-costume Grimalkin greeted the ephemeral hero with a friendly wave. "Hi DS! Welcome back to Terra Firma! Did you bring me anything?" The faeling could only grin. "Uh, kind of, I guess." She marches confidently up to him, hand extended. "Hi, I'm Grimalkin, the Jewish pixie. Infiltration, recon, and occasional kicker of butts."

"Thank you, Duncan." Estelle's handshake is firm as well, though of course no match for the resolute Mr. Summers. As always, she'd picked her clothes for the day with great care, a simple gray suit with knee-length skirt; her hair is neatly braided straight down her back, its most convenient (and conservative) configuration. "I hope I'm not putting you out in any way; I'm sure there's a great deal of work that needs to be done before the fall term." Her pale blue eyes scan the gate of the school; she's pleasantly reminded of her dear sweet Harvard, and the thought of textbooks, ruled paper and eager young faces gives her a little tingle. I could make a difference here; I could help.