Heritage

The blonde heroine shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, I had a lot of help." Then she grinned and playfully punched the scaly behemoth's arm. "You don't have to stick around if you're camera shy; I can take care of it." However once the the black SUVs showed up, her posture changed slightly, becoming more erect and less casual. Casey knew many people felt uncomfortable around AEGIS agents; feds are feds, and even if you didn't have a guilty conscience, being around federal agents made you feel like you must have done something. But Miracle Girl had a bit of insight into the group; not only was her father Col. Steve Blankenship, aka Vigilant and therefore a prime AEGIS asset, but she'd actually met a few agents. Some had even come over for barbecue back home in Colorado Springs. They were men and women with wives and kids and boyfriends, and all the other relationships that normal people had; they just did a very specific and important job. But out in the field, they were all business, and needed to be treated with respect; the black suit and tie and the golden badge represented their authority, and it was best to acknowledge that. "That is correct, agent," she began as she unconsciously went into parade rest, feet slightly spread and arms behind her back. "I happened to be in the area when I spotted the SUV approaching the facility; three women came out, all wearing ballistic vests and armed with shotguns. A man teleported out of the SUV and made to swing a baseball bat at one of the guards; when I flew down to block the blow, the women opened fire. I attempted to subdue them on my own, but eventually their slugs began to take a toll." She indicated the reptilian hero at her side with a tilt of her head. "Luckily for me, Leviathan was swimming nearby and came to my assistance, but even with his help, they were eventually able to fight their way into their vehicle. I was too groggy from the impacts to fly, so Leviathan suggested I climb on his back, and we leaped into pursuit. After following the suspects for a few miles, I was finally able to get a clean shot with my heatvision, which I used to take out the right rear tire, bringing the chase to a close." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Um, I think that's everything? Oh wait, in the course of the fight, they indicated they were looking to kidnap Dr. Delacroix, the founder of OCEAN-Freedom; he was apparently their target, but they were unable to find locate him before being forced to flee." Casey nodded with confidence. "And I think that's everything."

Lynn nodded to herself, doing her best not to join her girlfriend in her typical paranoia and nay-saying; sometimes everything actually did work out for the best. Maybe they could all have the wonderful vacation Sam promised, and they would all come back tanned (or in Gretchen's case, burned; the girl was awfully pale), all relaxed and full of happy memories. But then the changeling noticed something odd out of the corner of her eye; leaning forward, she peered at is as she tried to make out what is was. A seagull? A piece of blown debris? "What the hell...?" But then there was a sudden flash of recognition, and she sat bolt up right. "Holy s###, RPG!" She threw her arms out to either side, palms facing outward, and she began to conjure as fast as she could. On the outside of the limo, a shell came into being, starting at the points nearest to Lynn's hands but rapidly spreading around the car as she wove the glamour into a protective shield. The material looked a bit like tortoise shell and a bit like some sort of hardwood, though in truth it was made of no known substance, because Lynn was thinking too fast to pick something real; she just knew it had to be hard and thick. In a matter of seconds, the whole car was wrapped, though she left most of the front windshield uncovered so their driver wouldn't crash the car, though he still might still do it out of shock. Lynn could only pray she made it strong enough. For her part, Gretchen could only gape in shock, her reactions too slow to bring anything to bear just yet.

"No problem," Lynn said with a shrug. "Have a look around." As the young man browsed the store, Gretchen followed his progress around the store; at length, she slid off her stool and approached him. "I take it she hired you?" At his somewhat confused expression, she shook her head. "I can usually tell her type as far as hires go. I'm Gretchen, by the way. Assistant manager." She made no attempt to shake hands, but she did indicate the bakery case with a nod. "You get one free drink and one bakery item per shift. I could make you something, as a sort of...welcome aboard thing." It was hard to get a read on her; her regular speaking voice seemed to be fairly flat and unemotional, but surely the offer of a free drink was nice? Once she was behind the counter, she looked to Leon once again and raised her eyebrows in mild interest, waiting for his order.

Lynn shrugged and made a face. "Eh, he was okay; in many ways, he was quite the hero, but also kind of a douche when it came to the women in his life." Lynn stood up and came out from behind the desk, then sat down on the edge of it. "There's nothing wrong with being scared; I have seen some truly terrifying s### living in this town, and I am not afraid to admit it. But that fear, those shared experiences? They kind of bond people together. There's a reason Freedom is one of the nicest towns on the East Coast; we've all been in the trenches together, y'know?" For several seconds, the shop keeper just starred at the young man, arms crossed over her chest as she sized him up; much to her girlfriend's consternation, the changeling tended to go with her gut when it came to new hires, and right now, she was listening to her heart, just like she told Leon he had to do. And right now, her heart said- -Gretch, can you do a quick background check for me?- -I already did one. You haven't already say yes?- -My finger is hovering over the button, but I wanted to make sure I had your input.- -I appreciate that. He's clean. Well actually, there is a bit of genuine wonkiness here recently, but nothing that seems to implicate him in any direct wrongdoing. I do, however, detect a whiff of mystery, and I do enjoy a good mystery.- -So is that a yes, or...?- -That is a yes.- -Cool! Awesome! Thanks!- "Alright, you're hired," Lynn said abruptly as she offered him a firm handshake. "Welcome to Silberman's, Leon. We'll have on the schedule for next week; what days are good for you?"

Miracle Girl is always willing to work with her mentor Terrifica!

It seemed like some of her questions made Leon a little nervous, so Lynn was quick to address the issue. "College isn't for everyone, and there's no shame in skipping it. Plus, if you change your mind, you can always enroll later." Then she laid a hand across her chest. "The important thing I feel is to listen to your heart, and be true to that. My life journey is going to be very different from yours, so you have to choose what's right for you." When he described his tastes in books, the changeling smiled again; definitely as kid with good tastes! "Well Leon, let me tell you a bit about myself and this store. My great-grandfather Ira Silberman opened this shop in 1946; prior to that, he worked on the conjuring stage under the name 'The Amazing Al-Kazar'." And here she indicated a framed black-and-white publicity shot of Ira, in his cloak and golden turban, making a dramatic gesture while surrounded by trick photography sprites and demons. "Al-Kazar actually helped the Liberty League solve a supernatural crime or two back in the day before he disappeared in the late Fifties; after that my grandfather Louis took it over until his death several decades later. After that, the store remained shuttered for several years until a new will was found, in which my grandfather left the store to me. I wasn't able to open it back up right way, but we've been going strong since 2014." Here Lynn put her Uggs up on the desk and folded her hands in her lap, and leveled her gaze at the young man; it wasn't exactly hostile, but it was very direct. "This store has a history; if you ask around the neighborhood, you'll hear stories about weird lights and strange occurrences going all the way back to Great-Grandpa Ira's day. Heck, some weird stuff has happened here since I've taken over. I'm not trying to freak you out so much as make sure that you're okay potentially working at a place that might be a little...odd. Now that being said, I also pay better than most retail jobs in this town; assuming I brought you on, you'd be starting at twelve bucks an hour, minimum of twenty hours a week, and we offer decent health and dental, though I'm guessing you're still covered under your parents' insurance at this point?" And now, the strange young woman smiled warmly. "We're a weird and close-knit bunch here at Silberman's; we don't tolerate gossip and backstabbing, but we also know how to have a good time. This will not be the greatest job you've ever had, but it may well be the most memorable; you can tell your kids about the day something amazing happened between the Romance and Mystery sections." "So...are you still interested?" There was a little twinkle in her eye.

Lynn couldn't help but grin; Leon seemed like a nice kid, and the little inadvertent insights into his life only solidified that impression. "See, you're a good kid; me, I was a little monster at your age, always getting into fights and getting into trouble. I once poured a whole bottle of Mrs Butterworth's into the gas tank of a bully's car; messed it up real good!" This last little tidbit seemed to fill her with perverse pride, or at least it did until she remembered she was interviewing an impressionable youth. Clearing her throat, she quickly changed topics. "Alright, so Leon, what do you like to read? Any favorite subjects or authors? Also are you thinking of going on to college?"

Lynn sighed and sadly shook her head. "l know, I know...look, I had them custom-made for a comic book convention a few years back, aaaaand they weren't cheap, so I tend to break 'em out around Christmas and St. Patty's to get my money's worth. Halloween sometimes, too." And here she shrugged and did her best to look innocent, which didn't quite work with her impish features. "Also I think that...I look really cute in 'em, so sue me for my vanity!" She offered him a cheerful wink before continuing. "So it looks like this is your first regular paying job; have you done any kind of 'off the books' work, like for neighbors or family friends? Y'know, babysitting, raking leaves, paper route; any of that normal teen stuff that doesn't really show up on a resume." So far, Lynn was getting a pretty good read off the kid, but she needed to get at least some measure of his work ethic, or lack of same.

"Lynn, please, always Lynn..." She paused for a second without looking up, then pointed at one of her ears with a slender finger. "It's the ears, right? I forgot I left them on." She looked up and smiled, then with one fluid movement she pulled them both off and slid them into the top drawer of her desk. "There we go; one less distraction!" Finally she nodded to herself as she set the application aside, then steepled her fingers as she leaned back in her chair with a creak. "So, Leon, you are new to our shores! How do you like Freedom so far? Has to feel very different from the Pacific Northwest, I'm guessing."

Gretchen (her name tag was clearly visible pinned to her store apron) looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall behind her, which showed the time to be 11:03. "You're fine. I'll take you in back to see her." Her accent placed her somewhere along the New England coast, possibly Maine. She came out from behind the counter, her well-worn pair of Doc Martin's clomping on the wooden floor as she Leon him across the store to a door clearly marked 'Office' and gently wrapped on it. "Yeah, what's up?" (Sounded like a local girl) "Your 11 o'clock is here." "Oh, great, just gimme a sec." There were sounds of movement from within, followed by the sound of a bolt sliding, and then the door opened to reveal the room's occupant. Wow. She was really pretty; actually, 'gorgeous' might be more accurate. Just a few inches taller than Gretchen, so not so impressive in height, but with a warm, intense face of elfin features and deep brown eyes. "Hi, I'm Lynn, the owner. Nice to meet you!" Her handshake was firm but the skin was soft. "C'mon in, we'll talk for a bit." She led the way into her office, leaving Gretchen to return to her reading behind the counter. It was hard to say which was more remarkable, the office or the woman who worked there (The woman. Definitely the woman.) The room itself was not very large, but their were bookshelves on all four walls, all full to nearly bursting, though some odd bits of bric-a-brac were tucked in here and there. A large, old wooden desk dominated the room, as well as three leather chairs, a high-backed swivel one for the boss and two comfortable ones for guests. On top of the desk was a older-looking desktop computer, a banker's lamp with a green glass shade, and a candy dish filled with treats. Lynn moved very gracefully with no wasted motion, like she might have trained to be a dancer. She dressed for comfort, not for style, though it was hard to imagine anything looking bad on her; today she wore a simple Irish fisherman's sweater, a pair of jeans and a pair of Uggs. "Have a seat and help yourself to some candy while I pull out your application." Belatedly Leon became aware of two things as the lovely store owner slid behind her desk and skimmed the application he'd completed two days before; she was wearing her long, curly brown hair up, which showed off her elegant neck, and it also looked like she was wearing a very convincing pair of elf ears. "Just gimme a minute here..."

Giving the cops a brief glance over her shoulder, Casey took a step closer to Holly and lowered her voice. "Look, I get that you felt forced to do this, that for whatever reason you felt you had no choice; that doesn't make what you did right, but-" She closed her eyes and sighed. "I'll...see if I can talk to Dr. Delacroix; if there is something wrong with you, maybe he could visit you in Blackgate, and maybe come up with a cure. And don't say anything until you get a lawyer; everyone has a right to a fair trial." Stepping away from the would-be kidnapper, she rejoined Leviathan as she watched the paramedics examining Owen, still inside the car. "Boy, I am wiped out; those shotgun slugs really take a lot out of you! I really just want to go home and take a nap, but the cops probably want us to make a statement or something." She made a frowny face.

Finally noticing the fidgety young man, Gretchen looked up from her book and scowled; not another shoplifter! She put a bookmark in to mark her page, set the book aside and cleared her throat before calling out, "Can I help you?" The young woman did indeed look a bit like a stock photo of a barista, though she'd probably claim it was ironic; in addition to the standard issue black framed glasses, she had a lot of metal in her ears, and with her vintage bowling shirt over her Charlie Brown T-shirt, she could have come from from Central Casting. But despite all this, her tone was not entirely devoid of friendliness, and there was a hint of curiosity in her heavily-kohled eyes..

Oh jeez, an incoming missile attack! Is there any sort of Initiative order? Lynn is probably the fastest person in the car, but there's only so much she can do in a short amount of time. My first thought is for her to shout out a warning, and then conjure up a protective shell around the limo with Create Object; it would look a bit like a turtle shell, and cover the whole car except for the front windshield so we don't crash. Its would be Toughness 6 added to whatever the limo already had, and it would probably only last for a few seconds; damage from the impact to Lynn will be very painful due to her Feedback, but I don't think Feedback can kill, just knock you out. Does that sound feasible, Soph?

Lynn: 1d20+15=34 Gretchen: 1d20+10=14

One for each of them, or two each for a total of four?

Silberman's Books, at the corner of Pratt and Frederick. Friday, March 17th, 2017. 11:00 am. Lynn Epstein didn't really get St. Patrick's Day; her mom was Jewish, and her father, who despite his last name was primarily raised Catholic, was essentially Jewish-Italian. She'd gone to Jewish schools throughout her childhood, so it was never part of her family life. Atlantic City had a parade down the Boardwalk, but her family always avoided it due to the presence of 'drunken hooligans' as her mom put it. But sadly when you work in retail, there are certain expectations from the public around major or even minor holidays, so while Silberman's Books didn't go all out, a few changes were made to the store for the week. A table of books on Irish history and Celtic mythology was set up near the entrance; it wasn't too crass, and the books selection was actually pretty varied. The changeling had conjured some tasteful decorations around the store, typically modeled on early 20th century designs as Lynn felt they were less intrusive. And lastly she'd made some special green Silberman's aprons, dark green with the store's name in a white Celtic font; even Gretchen who was usually annoyed by such things admitted they looked pretty good. Otherwise the store looked much the same as usual: bookshelves full of used books, posters of famous stage magicians on the walls, the magazine rack and newspapers up front, tables and chairs for reading and the consumption of food and drink, and the combined front counter/coffee bar. The store was fairly empty, as much of Freedom was engaged in various St. Pat's activities, so it was only the die hard coffee drinkers out and about. Gretchen was working the bar and counter this morning, although right now she was sitting perched on her high stool near the register, reading Dostoevsky's The Idiot in the original Russian thanks to her magic glasses. She was also playing The Pogues over the store's sound system, her one contribution to the day's celebrations. However, the store's owner did have someone coming in for an interview this morning; hopefully they'd be a good fit. Currently she was in her office checking email.

Whispers raised her eyebrows, pantomimed a horn rising out of her head, then nodded and gave Ellie a thumbs up; she had an image in her mind of a beautiful white mare, spirited and free, and started to work with that. The fact was, this was not Lynn's first rodeo when it came to facepainting; she used to do it all the time with her kids back on the Otherworld, and while she was no Michaelangelo, she knew what kids liked. She also had a fun idea for a surprise to complete the piece. Noting the young guest's interest, Gretch went into lecture mode; she really didn't know how to talk to kids, so she pretty much treated them like small adults. Sometimes they responded to this very well, but other times, not so much. "This is a ukulele. It's like a guitar, but in only has four strings, whereas a guitar has six, or sometimes twelve." She plucked each string in turn so they could hear each of the individual sounds. "One, two, three, four. I'm left-handed, so I have it strung in reverse order, which means I play it this way." She strummed it a few times, a very pleasant sound. "Ukuleles come from Hawaii. Have you ever seen the movie Lilo and Stich? They have ukuleles in that one. I think Stich plays one at one point, but I could be wrong." The talented musician began to play the opening chords of Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's arrangement of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. "It's a good first instrument if you have small hands." Was that just a hint of a smile on her dour face? And then she began to sing, and it was lovely; it was easy to forget that this intensely logical and oh-so-cynical person, who was so hard and spikey on the outside, had a huge, passionate heart hidden under all that armor, and when it peeped out, it was like a ray of pure sunshine. As she worked, Lynn felt small tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she listened to her girlfriend sing, which in turn inspired her work; working mostly in blue, gray and white, she layered the facepaint on Ellie's cheeks to suggest the muzzle of the majestic beast. When she finished the piece, she held up one finger, then rummaged around in the facepainting kit, where she 'found' an iridescent unicorn horn on an elastic band, which she slipped over the birthday girl's head. Then the wordless clown brought out a small hand mirror (real, this time) so her client could see the result, inquiring as to her satisfaction with a shrug.

"I'm not a bad clown. I'm a badass clown," Gretchen muttered to herself as the little urchin wandered off; the young misanthrope was quite proud of herself for handling the pest so effectively. Whispers, on the other hand, had her work cut out for her; she motioned to her partner to bring over the facepainting case, which 'Bubbles' dutifully did. The silent clown took the opportunity to stuff her cloth sign back up her sleeve, where it promptly disappeared. Once she had the case, she zipped it open and pulled out first one, then another small folding cloth stool, both of which she snapped open with an artful snap of the wrist. As soon as Gretchen caught sight of Ms. Ellie's approach, she sent a dryly humorous sending her partner's way. -Brace for impact.- -Yeah, I see her. You think Giles hates us yet?- -Give him time.- As the young 'princess' arrived, Whispers very visibly reacted to her approach, standing rigidly at attention before bowing deeply at the waist (Gretch just did a little half-bow), as though in the presence of actual royalty. She gestured with a flourish towards the slightly taller of the stools as she sat in the other, pulling out a tray of paints and a brush with the inquiring look of a secretary waiting to take dictation. Clearly, she was ready to get to work. Meanwhile, Bubbles pulled out her ukulele, attached the shoulder strap, and began to check the tuning; true, she sucked with kids, but if it had strings, she could play the hell out of it!

Hammer might recall Sakurako's name as the young tech genius from the Christmas eve thread with Grimalkin and the two ice castles!

"Yes!" cried Casey as she leaped up in the air and spiked the ball in the endzone, sending it bouncing high into the air. She then did a few celebratory cartwheels before running up to Hammer, her face flushed with enthusiasm. "We need to do this again! Or, you know, any kind of athletic competition, really! Like we could do a tug of war, or beach volleyball; pretty much anything like this, I will show up for in a heartbeat!" Then her eyes went wide as an idea struck her. "We should do it for charity! You know, like they do on Celebrity Jeopardy? Each team plays for their favorite charity, and the proceeds from ticket sales go to the winner's cause! What do you guys think?" When the alien ambassador mentioned interstellar travel, the blonde powerhouse nodded seriously. "Oh, okay! My friend Sakurako has been working on plans for a spaceship; maybe that could be our first trip."

"I broke your mirror," Gretch stated bluntly. "On the orders of your great-granddaughter, who now owns your shop. That's her out there." She indicated Grimalkin with a nod of her head. "She was worried an evil Belgian duke was going to use a twin of the mirror in a sympathetic magic ritual of some kind. She had me smash the mirror with an iron railroad spike to break the link." One thing you had to say about the young barista, she didn't mince words; she came right out and stated the facts as she knew them. "Does that mean we're trapped in here?" - - - Back in the 'theater', Lynn dismissed her claws with another flick of her wrists, wisps of vapor rising from each finger tip. She stepped forward to check on Gretchen's physical form, checking her pulse and pupils with great concern. "Oh, Gretch; where have you gone?"

Medicine check on 'Owen': 1d20+5=9 Clearly she can barely be bothered to examine this 'jerk'

"The girl who can stop fate, apparently," Casey said with a wry grin as she finished tying a sling around the young criminal's arm. "There you go! You've got a minor fracture, and probably a concussion, too." She looked down at the unconscious Irishman and sighed. "He's almost certainly got one; I hate to say it, but it couldn't happen to a nicer guy. At least the impact shut him up for a bit. How could you stand being his partner? What a jerk!" With some reluctance, she did a quick scan of the unconscious precognitive as well; he was out, but she didn't want to risk moving him, in case he had a neck or spinal injury. When the police showed up, Miracle Girl stood there with her arms crossed, attempting to looked annoyed but not uncooperative. "Thank you for your prompt response, officers; nice to see that we're all on the same side." Noting the officer holding the phone, she did her best to suppress as grin as she nodded at him in acknowledgment. "Officer Ramirez; nice to meet you face to face."

The reactions of the two women to the flock of children were, of course, very different; not only had they had very different life experiences in general, but the changeling was much older than she looked, and had a lifetime of playing with children, grandchildren and even a few great-grandchildren under her belt. Gretchen, who had never been comfortable around kids even when she was a kid, only had memories of a lot of screaming, teasing and random physical abuse to draw upon. As the children approached, Lynn broke into a huge, black-lipped smile and actually relaxed, as though every bone in her body magically turned into spring, and she began to flop about and tumble effortlessly, first like a monkey, then like a puppy dog, the whole time radiating a sense of harmless, silly fun. Gretchen, however, tensed up completely, her eyes darting about behind the sunglasses as she did her best to keep track of each individual pint-sized threat, and the kids by their very nature immediately picked up on her discomfort. Staring down at the defiant little creature at her feet, the young barista cleared her throat. "Please don't do that. I am Bubbles the Clown, and I don't take crap from anyone." Attempting to divert attention away from her reluctant partner in mirth, Lynn conjured up a cloth sign that she pulled out of her sleeve that said in large, friendly letters: Hi, I'm Whispers the Clown! She then held up a gloved finger to her lips, and then showed the other side of her sign. Who wants to do FACEPAINTING?

Happy birthday, Molopi!