Heritage

"Hmm; sounds like politics are truly universal...throughout the Universe." She wrinkled her nose at her silly joke as she fished for more noodles with her tongs. "Tell me, Mr. Sentinel, do you miss your homeworld? You are so very far from it out here." She looked back toward the bench, then indicated it with a nod. "Care to join me?" She raised her arms slightly. "This is rather awkward." The green-skinned beauty headed on over, smiling encourangingly over her shoulder.

Despite her personal feelings about the election, Councillor Ditra Fifty-Five felt it was important to make an appearance, in part because it's what a politician was expected to do, but also because she need to start developing relationships with the representives of other sentient races if she hoped to get anything done. Fortunately as a Diplomatic agent, she was well-equipped for this sort of work, but she couldn't deny a bit of trepidation as she entered the suite; a hundred phrases in a hundred languages about entering the lair of the beast leaped to mind, and none of them quite captured the feeling of stepping into this world. She'd chosen her look carefully; despite her recent upgrades to her shell, she maintained her normal configuration: light green skin, dark green curly hair, black eyes. She had to embrace her status as a Nameless Diplo if anyone was going to learn to trust her. A white jumpsuit with flared sleeves, with strategic semi-circular cutouts at her shoulders, waist and thighs, highlighted her skin color and showed that she was not ashamed of who she was or who she was elected to represent. Standing just inside the doorway, Ditra quickly scanned the crowd, which yielded a tremendous amount of information from her databanks. One grouping of sentients in particular piqued her interest: Dol-Druth, Speaker for the Dotrae, Sri Kyle Steward of the Star Knights (and a native of distant Terra!), and (of course) a Zultasian journalist named Hro Talak, registered with the Zircon News Service. It seemed as good a place as any to start; adjusting the fit of her jumpsuit, Ditra did her best to relax as she approached the group, a warm smile on her face. "Greetings, gentlebeings! How do you fair this Election Day?" She bowed her head slightly. "I am Ditra Fifty-Five, Coaltion Councilor for the Second Hive. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Substitute The Shrike Mark McDaniels didn't stay around to witness his daughter's first birthday; all he left her was a stupid name and the bitter lesson that you couldn't trust anyone. All her life, people left Gretchen, or abandoned or disappointed her in some way. At school, the kids called her "Gretchen McDonald's" and made rude jokes about wanting to see her 'McNuggets' or taste her 'special sauce'; it was just easier to pretend she had no father than acknowledge one who'd brought her nothing but pain. Harold 'Butch' Epstein was not like most fathers she'd met. First of all, he was around; when he found out he'd gotten a nice Jewish girl pregnant after a Christmas eve concert near Princeton, he didn't run. He stayed. He stayed and learned to love a woman who was difficult, who was not like other girls, who was smart and sarcastic and even a little mean. He'd been a man. A real man. It wasn't a crush; not exactly. It was more like...wish fulfillment. To a girl who'd never had a real father, Butch was impossibly cool; he was a carpenter and a musician, a man who'd lost the use of both legs and not let it slow him down. A man who struggled with drugs and a gambling addiction, but was still there to raise three very different but amazing children, one of whom, a damaged, sparkling magical soul, had stolen Gretchen's heart. By the end of their first jam session at Christmas last year, she was officially smitten. - - - "Can I...borrow your dad?" Lynn rolled over in bed and stared at her strange and wonderful girlfriend. "Why...?" Gretchen struggled to find the right words, or rather struggled to speak the words she'd already found. "I've never...I've never had a dad. Ever. Not one Father's Day have I had to suffer through dad jokes, or gotten sick from eating too much cotton candy or...done any of that stuff." Her face was hot and her throat was tight. "I'd just...like that. For a day." Tears welled up in the changeling's eyes and ran down her cheeks. "Yeah, you could...I'm sure that'd be fine." "Good. Thanks." - - - Gretch took Butch flying; she made herself invisible as she flew over the skyline of Freedom City, gently holding him with her telekinesis as he whooped and hollered like a big kid, zooming up and down and around on the world's greatest roller coaster. And she laughed until she cried.

Casey smiled with genuine affection and shook her head. "I've never thought you were a machine; a machine wouldn't have gotten so mad at that crazy inventor who made that robot we had to find." She sighed and raised her eyebrows. "Our first case!" Still, it was a bit weird to see...whoever Terrifica was under there at last; she almost looked at peace, not like the driven crimefighter she'd worked with for so long. But now it was time to return the favor and show her true face to her mentor. There was a quick puff of wind and it was over; there was no point in dragging the process out for dramatic effect. Casey Blankenship had her hair up and her glasses on, wearing a Sierra Club T-shirt, a pair of khaki hiking shorts and Teva sandals. While she didn't actually look significantly shorter than she did as Miracle Girl, she was much less imposing, like she should be standing on a street corner with a clipboard, smiling as she talked to people about the environment. "So, this is me!" She shrugged, then held out her hand for a firm handshake. "Casey Blankenship; nice to meet you!"

Casey had read about 'Chapter Zero' as part of her regular newspaper binge (she read the Denver Post, Miami Herald, New York Times and Washington Post front to back every morning with her breakfast); basically they were terrorists who wanted to tear everything down without offering any sort of alternative, which made exactly no sense to the blonde powerhouse. After all, you might fervently disagree with a group as horrible as ISIS, but at least you knew they had an ideology of some kind that you could try to understand. These jokers just seemed to want chaos for chaos' sake! Once again, Miracle Girl took to the air, only this time her eyes glowed brightly as she targeted the mentalist, who's costume burst into flames at her right shoulder. If I can at least break her concentration, that can buy the POTUS and his team some time!

A Dexterity of 18 is nothing to sneeze at; I think a basic 'no powers' or 'minimal powers' rule could be instituted?

Okay, I think i figured it all out; the Post Its would be placed in rings around the prints with neat little arrows drawn on them in felt tip marker; there would also be little trails of Post Its with arrows to lead any investigators to the site of the prints.

"I can do that," she murmured softly as she nodded. Then she turned to the security guard and smiled as she tied her long hair into a more practical French braid. "This shouldn't take very long; a few seconds, tops." And then there was just the rushing of the wind. A few seconds later, as promised, she abruptly stopped in front of Agent Thornton with a breathless smile. "Okay! The perp was small, either a young male or a female, and barefoot; there's a good footprint on the door. But even better, we've got a real clean print on one of the cabinets; either index or thumb, not sure which." She indicated the storeroom with a casual toss of her head. "I marked them with Post-Its, a few inches away so as not to disturb the prints; not sure what the best way to lift the prints is, though." Everything else, she'd jotted down in her reporter's notebook, ready to share with her mentor when she was alone.

"I think so, yeah," she said with a nod. "It, it looks like a pretty clean break." The blonde held up her arm and indicated Possie's with a tilt of her head. "Should heal up pretty good." Casey then did her best to not look at anyone as she tried to get this whole x-ray thing under control; it was kind of like trying to find a station on an old-fashioned radio, twisting the nob back and forth until the signal became clear. Finally she got the building they were in and all it's contents to be clear as glass, and it was like she was standing outside in the quad. She could look in any direction, right through all the walls, furniture and people "There we go! Oh wow; this is actually really, really cool!"

Casey nodded. "Okay, sure, that works." As they started to walk towards the alley, she shook her head; this all felt so weird, and yet at the same time it felt like it was no big deal. She felt bad that it perhaps meant more to Terrifica than her to unmask; she couldn't help but feel that her mentor had more to lose than she did. "What changed," she finally managed to ask. "Why now, and not before?" She couldn't bring herself to start changing her outfit until the super-genius went first.

EP, just for my clarification, exactly who, what and when does Terrifica want Casey to look into discretely? I'm not sure if I should have her share what she's found yet.

At Saber's wink, Casey frowned and shook her head slightly; this guy was a real jerk, especially how he talked to Aquaria. Ugh, stop winking at me, you creep! How did I ever like you? Then she addressed the barbarian's question. "The two agents are right, Rhaegar; it would be just as wrong to go to your world and expect everyone to follow our rules. Anyway, heads up; I might have found our last special guest." Turning her eyes upon the cell, she cycled through both the infrared and x-ray spectrums, scanning for signs of life.

Heatvision attack on the telepath: 1d20+14=16 Are you serious? Second lowest possible roll! DC 21 Toughness check if that still hits. EDIT: at Rav's suggestion, an HP-fueled reroll: 1d20+14=25 That's more like it! Let me know if he makes the save, AA.

"Believe me, that's more than enough. Working magic is more trouble than it's worth." Wait a minute, did she just reveal something personal to a complete stranger? The old man was charming in his own way, but now she really hoped he was exactly what he seemed, and not something else more sinister. It would be nice to be wrong for a change. And then the yuppie trendoids showed up and broke the mood; Gretchen slouched down a bit in her chair as she gave her delicious tea the full attention it deserved, but kept one eye open for trouble, just in case.

The young barista's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared slightly at Gallo's last comment -'Bourbon for the two men'? I could drink this fat prick under the table!- -Okay, yes, we are seeing some good old fashioned Latin American sexism here; I will grant you that. But you don't change the mind of a guy like this by getting all up in his face. You have to earn his respect.- -F### that s###.- Lynn cleared her throat and spoke in a rather diplomatic tone. "You know, President Gallo, coffee of course sounds delightful, but some of us ladies also enjoy a good glass of strong spirits now and then." She gestured towards her girlfriend. "Our own dear Gretchen being an excellent example; might she enjoy a glass while I savor Val Verde's exquisite roast?"

The pair of magical lovers from Silberman's Books said nothing during the journey to the house in question, but once they were inside and in sight of the portal, the Shrike noticeably tensed up as memories of her previous encounter with these so-called Ferals played behind her eyes on a blood-spattered loop. -You don't have to be scared.- -F### you, I'm terrified. You haven't seen what they can do.- -Well, you're right, but I have fought zombies before; we'll get through this, hon.- Gretchen could only mutely nod as she reached out and took PixieGrim's tiny hand in her own, and they flew through the portal together.

Also if I do bring back Cubic in some form or another, the Exiles might be a very good fit.

I was thinking the same thing, HGM! I've only seen it in a few issues (I don't read as many comics as I used to), but I loved the idea that some of chatroom's denizens knew each other's identities, but not all.

That...is actually a super-cool idea.

'Charity for Feeding Frenzy'; so...do people donate buckets of chum?

Either is fine, but charity would allow for guilt-free superpower use

Casey (aka Miracle Girl) takes any opportunity to play sports with anyone.

I agree with RedGuy on the 'fictional Luxembourg' idea, for all the reasons he states; it's also the most in keeping in the way fictional European countries tend to be handled in comic books (i.e. Doom's Latveria).

"Oh! Oh!" It took a few seconds for the full impact of what the super-genius just said to sink in; for someone as careful and borderline paranoid as Terrifica, this was huge. It meant she was considering revealing her secret identity to Casey, when she'd probably shared it with only one or two, tops. "I mean, yeah, sure, if you're up to it, I'd be happy to." She indicated the area around her eyes with a vague wave of her hand. "It's not like I...it's, it's fine." The blonde teen shrugged and looked around. "So, where do we change? I brought a bunch of outfits, just in case."

Will save for MG: 1d20+10=22 Hah!