alderwitch

Taylor remained quiet as the others talked and raged, her dark gaze thoughtful and a puzzled frown on her face. She moved her fingertips, twisting the image to show different angles before she banished it with a gesture. "That's no doppelganger," Taylor said with unshakeable certainty. "Nor is it an illusion." She crossed back to the baby and cuddled him close with a troubled expression as she unwrapped him, subjecting him to the same light probe of magic. Finally she whispered,"How did you do this now... and why?" JJ's only response was to grab at her finger and attempt to stuff it in his mouth. "Its the baby, mystically. Physically, that part I don't know." No one liked to hear that Taylor was at a loss when it came to magical matters, "There's elements of some sort of temporal magic but so very faint that I couldn't tell you what effect would have been garnered from that. The bulk though is hermetic, and relatively juvinile."

"That's rather my hope but you know what they say. Hope for the best, plan for the worst." Bombshell replied and replaced her glove after giving the Scarab's fingers an affectionate squeeze. "Don't worry, darling, I know what I'm doing. Now, as lovely as the company is, I had best be on my way. Give us a toss?" Bombshell grinned with a daredevil's abandon as she relaxed her stance and requested a telekinetic lob toward's one of the near by buildings.

Alex smiled her greeting to the psychic cousins as they arrived and winced a little at the usual Zarana cry. She turned briefly to one of the white jacketed waiters to quietly say, "You can shut that window now. Thank you." She released Mike's arm to head over to give Erin a hug and smile brightly at her date, "Good timing. Zoe just got here as well so they'll be up as soon as they're done with the valet. You could hear the stereo practically from up here. You look lovely! Its very nice to meet you for real, Trevor. I'm Alex." The last was probably unnecessary but she didn't say it with any artifice.

"I think so... I've never really been a sports sort of person, really," Taylor said as they ducked down and hustled into the dug out. Taylor just phased on through the greenery as she figured Stesha wouldn't have any problem with a few over grown plants. "I don't think this place has been used in a really long time, though. Everything's kinda over grown and out of use."

Soooo, lets Bluff to see if we can lower his defense with a feint.: 1d20+20=23 *sigh* Okay, I refuse to suck that badly even if Bombshell is doomed to get her butt handed to her. So we'll use her only HP to reroll that. 1d20+20=33 Not much better but that's what I'm going with I guess. At least it ties the skill mastery. 1d20+9=23

Bombshell smiled and shifted to begin pulling her tight leather glove off of one hand with practiced ease. She extended the bare fingertips out towards Scarab, a long slender hand more suited to piano than fisticuffs but she'd always relied on deceptive appearances. Scarab would know what the gesture meant, after all, it was easier to get in Talya's head when they were in physical contact. "For what you need to know, I think, your methods will be more elegant than mine." With the sort of focus that was rare to unheard of in a non psychic, Talya held in her thoughts the few encounters she'd had. The mark they'd approached her about stealing was in one of Elena's own companies research labs. Talya's plan to take the compound was quite clear for Elena, as even Elena would understand the need to prove her trustworthy nature to the organization before she could get deeper in. Now, they're good enough to know that I'd take something that would be certain to upset the Scarab off. The million dollar question - or rather, the question I'm staking my neck on - is did they do their research well enough to know that there are lines that I do not cross. I think, my dear, they hope to get your attention. I just rather hope that it's with this little vial and not my pretty head. Either way, I think you can count on this being an old enemy of one sort or another.

Sure, although I'm pretty sure even without swords, PL13 Jack has a significant advantage over PL10 Bombshell. 1d20+7=11 ...and I hate you too, Invisible Caste.

1d20=8 I really need to get her an init modifier....

"Let me see..." Taylor said thoughtfully. She crossed back to Stesha, holding the baby out for her to take. When her hands were free, she started to lift them up as she spoke, "Even if he's duping the signature, I should be able to..." Taylor broke off with a sharp cry, pulling her hands in as if she was burned. Uncurling her hands slowly, she looked down at the welts that had lacerated her palms even as her magic started to heal them. "...Feedback?" Her chin firmed in determination and she waved everyone back a bit, "Tricky. Stand back, this is going to take a bit of brute force." A year ago, had already been on of the more potent mystics in Prime. These days, if she wasn't within spitting distance of the Master Magus, it wasn't for lack of focus. Nobody, bar Eldrich himself, was going to deter her with some feedback. Thrusting her healing palms out towards the mirror, the glow of raw eldritch power surrounded her hands before burning into the mirror in a steady stream that turned its surface white hot. Taylor's eyes bled white first before turning to the star spangled black of the Void as she forced reality to bend to her formidable will. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the image of the costume thief filled the mirror, hazy, almost murky as he slipped in the window. Taylor pushed harder, forcing the scrying to slip back farther, to the figure lurking in the graveyard. With the faint sheen of persperation on her brow, Taylor gave one last mental shove and the image coalesed to his arrival in the city. The shadows snapped into sudden and almost too vivid color of a pale young man, his long dark hair pulled back into a single tail. His eyes were a bright blue, startling with the Asian cast to his features. As he grimaced, the shadow of dimples flickered in his cheeks as he popped into existance suddenly, his expression disoriented and a little afraid.

"Well, no one's perfect, love," Bombshell replied to his comment about not being a material sort of guy. She slipped down from her latest perch to the surface of the roof, her posture lazy and indolent. "It's only our first date so we really ought save weapons until at least the second or third. I'm not easy, after all. I'd say count either a pin or a touch as a hit and then who ever's ahead when we call it quits wins. Simple enough."

Taylor glanced up and with a thought threw a quick cover spell over the two of them, hoping that was fast enough for whatever Supers were floating around to not pay attention to them, "Yeah, this isn't the dimension I was thinking of. I'm not sure where we are and I won't be able to focus on figuring that out till I can drop our cover. Let's find someplace to hole up quickly so I can find out where we are..."

"I'll go talk to Alice," Taylor said before Jack could ask, collecting her son into her arms. "She doesn't usually hide when its just us but they're all skittish around new people. Well, new living people. They'll be more friendly the next time you're over." Taylor walked over to the clock and tilted her head to the side. The others would be able to see her lips move but the only sound that came out was the same whispery noises that the ghost girl made. The stronger of the spirits could manage the ectoplasmic oomph to communicate with the living but with how riled up they all were, Taylor figured that it would be easier just to toss off a quick speak to spirits spell. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she asked a few whispery questions for clarification before rejoining the group. "Now that's strange," Taylor said as she rejoined the group, forgetting for a moment they hadn't heard the conversation with her musings, "Maybe some sort of doppelganger..." She shook her head and elaborated, starting from the beginning, "Alice says they sensed the baby's mystic signature outside and upstairs while he was down here with Stesha and Dark Star. That's when she got concerned and brought the matter to everyone's attention. They claim they don't know who the man was but to all of their senses, he was duplicating Jack Jr.'s mystical footprints."

She tapped one gloved fingertip to those smirking crimson lips as if considering. "Well, either we can play the eternally classic racing across rooftops - which does make it difficult to talk unless one of you happens to be prone to telepathic speeches about giving things back to rightful owners. Or, we can go with the old stand by; trying knock each other down. With style, of course, otherwise what's the point?" Bombshell glanced around the rooftop, "Also, my ring size is a six and a half. I've always been partial to diamonds. Shall we?"

Alex's eyes unfocused as she dropped the illusion that concealed the aura of power that usually covered her to focus her attention on whatever was happening outside. Her voice was as quiet and collected as it had been for the interview, despite the obvious emergency. She'd grown used to dealing with emergencies. "Yes, I think that's best. Marie will be happy to show you out and reschedule this. Please excuse me." If Joan looked for it, she'd see Alex touch the buckle on her belt - a stylized YF - to have her costume replace the pantsuit and slacks. She telekinetically activated the intercom on her desk, "I'm on my way, Rowena." Then Alex would make all haste to the roof to deal with the latest problem at hand.

"That sounds like quite the interesting conversation..." Bombshell paused and glanced the young man over as he paced, "You think best on your feet like I do, I think. Want to go for a work out and talk about your problems?" Her smile flashed, her teeth white and even behind dark red lips. "Wrestling optional, of course. I just can't quite wrap my head around a rooftop conversation if there isn't something physical going on."

"Well, do you?" Bombshell asked curiously. She dropped her hands from her hips and shifted slightly on the balls of her feet with a little restless energy, "I mean, I don't really mind the entire ex-thief thing but then, that too was a reputation of my own choosing. Other people, of course, don't always agree." She said that last with a dry tone of voice. Her accent was faint but thickened with the sarcasm, an upper class Londoner accent for those with the ear to catch it. To most people, she just sounded 'British'. She shifted again to glance at Jack of all Blades from behind her delicate mask, "I assumed that it does bother you but, really, better to ask than make assumptions, I suppose."

Alex relaxed back into her chair, those too wide eyes watching Joan carefully. She laced her fingertips together again and went back to answering questions, her voice evening out again to its usual quiet tones, "I think that's the excuse of small minds, if you'll pardon the expression. My community, so to speak, suffers from the same problems that it's non-empowered contemporaries have. We have plenty of role models to follow, from the Centurion himself right on down the line of the modern Freedom League. Those of my generation are trying to find their own identities in the wake of such greats and it is most certainly intimidating. Do they make mistakes? Of course. Are those mistakes terribly visible due to the nature of the spotlight on the supers? I certainly think so. I'd like to think that my actions at least, not to mention the actions of many other empowered youth show that like the generations before us, we have our icons both good and bad. I rather think that every one could use a bit more civic-mindedness, however, that I will certainly admit to."

Alex's smile faded and she sighed softly, "If you are trying to delicately ask if there were other children of interest in the facility that I was in, the answer is yes. I am not the only in-utero infant that was mutated by the portals that opened in 1993. I was not alone, however, considering the reaction that my announcement spawned I would very much appreciate if you would avoid this particular line within your article. Ms. Collier, if I may be frank, I feel its very important to be up front and honest about the actions taken when we were children, however, I was in a much better position to deal with the brunt of the speculation and fear that our origins engender. I am not going to lie to you about our existence but any sort of speculation of which teens might or might not be similarly empowered as I am will open them up to the sort of protests and fear that I face."

"Ms. Collier, I think you're well aware that my alter ego is on a team of other teenage meta-humans, Young Freedom," Alex said but with a small smile. She was well aware that any interview was going to prod around the matter of her more secretive and more charismatic teammates. "Of course that work does bring myself as well as my teammates into encounters with other less well known youths. However, as happy as I am to discuss my costumed antics, I cannot in good conscience speak about any of those individuals, especially the ones who remain legally minors. If they didn't call me up to complain, their parents certainly would!"

"I think its highly unfair to hold metahumans to a higher standard than we hold other human beings. I rather think that's a road to a Brave, New World, where we sort people by their inherent ability rather than their personal drive and desire. We no longer use the draft when going to war as a country, why would we similarly demand a select group of Americans to subsume their own goals for the good of the community. I like to think that people with special gifts will of their own morals try and put those to the best use they can. If, however, they decide to live a quiet personal life, I would hardly begrudge them the choice." Alex replied back, her words quiet but not carefully measured out for what would make a good sound bite. "I can say that of all the metahumans I've met, most of them already agonize over where they draw the line over having even a personal life. I think heaping extra guilt on top of that is a little abhorrent."

Alex fielded the questions with a calm and quiet poise, quoting the statistics without ever flicking a glance to her computer. A so-called photographic memory was no end of help running a corporation. When Joan strayed into the inevitable metahuman questions, Alex didn't bat an eyelash. She considered the question for a moment before replying in the same high and clear voice, "I rather think that's only going to drive my fellow metahumans to remain hidden. I am, unsurprisingly, against any sort of resurrection of metahuman registration acts which is the only relatively sure-fire way to make certain that you have found all the possible metahumans that might or might not be involved in a corporate structure. The large majority of those individuals are highly unlikely to have powers that can drastically influence things in any way shape or form. Despite my own choice to publicly out myself, the entire reason behind a secret identity is a very sound one and one I feel should be left to the individual to decide on keeping or not. Not a governmental entity."

Alex nodded and went to the chair behind the desk to take a seat in it, crossing her legs under the desk. Although the desk was large enough for all the space Alex needed, the chair was carefully padded both for her comfort as well as to help keep Alex from looking quite so petite. She laced her fingers on the wooden surface and smiled slightly, "Thank you. No, I had some input on the design, of course, but the building itself was designed by the same team that oversees the construction of any new AEON projects. I wish I had quite such a flair for it, but my input really was something along the lines of 'modern but not dreary' and then to look at the different swatches they put together. I did chair the board that selected the final designs. They put together the bulk of this office as well, although I was able to make things a little brighter in here. I've always gone with the brighter is better idea on color pallets."

The receptionist and personal assistant stood up to greet her. She was a woman in her late twenties to early thirties and she fixed a polite and professional smile on her face. Standing up, she glanced back at the doors and took Joan's name. "Go on in, ma'am, she's waiting for you." She stood up to let the woman into the office proper, one of many similar offices for the senior executives on this floor. Inside, the office was a bit more personal than the outside lobby, also a bit more colorful. A large and bright rug had been rolled down over the wood floors and the white leather couch and chair in one corner had a handful of different color throw pillows scattered over them. There were bookshelves along the walls, filled with an assortment of different texts above locking file cabinets and a small mini fridge. In the center of those shelves was a flat panel t.v. that was turned off for the moment. The center of the office was taken up with a heavy wooden desk and the leather chair behind it. The computer monitor was set to the side on the desk on a swivel arm and the surface of the desk was clean of papers or files as was the entire office. In front of the desk were a few comfortable chairs. As for Alexandra Albright, she was standing over by the large panel windows that took up one wall although she crossed over as the door opened. She was a young, almost coltish girl. A little under five and a half feet in her low heeled shoes, her bright coppery hair was clipped up off of her face with a delicate bun holder. She'd abandoned the suit jacket that went with the slacks, leaving her in a sleeveless silk shirt in a deep jewel tone with a shallow scoop neck. With no jewelry of any kind, Alex looked a good deal more like a teenager going to her first job interview rather than the majority share holder in a freshly minted billion dollar operation. "Ms. Collier, welcome to AEON Enterprises. I'm Alexandra Albright." She said as if her face hadn't been plastered across every t.v. news network for the last few weeks. "Won't you please have a seat. May I get you anything to drink?"

"A hero with manners? Be still my girlish heart. I rather thought they'd stopped making those. Clearly, I chose the wrong time to retire from a life of petty crime after all." Bombshell took the kiss on the back of the hand with amusement and an ease that spoke of being used to those sorts of manners. She bantered back at him with casual ease and settled her hand on those curvy hips when he released it. "An... associate of mine thought we might have a chat as we're both dealing with, hmm, problems of a public relation nature." Her gaze twinkled and she tipped her head to the side teasingly, "Or I could simply start with, Hello, my name is Bombshell and I'm a recovering 'supervillian' if you believe everything you read in newspapers. Really, its all gotten very sensational if you ask me. Thirty years ago, you had to at least kidnap a girl friend or two to really be able to lay claim to that sort of title."

Bombshell shook back the long blond curls that fell over one blue eye and gave him a wicked smile under the slim black mask she wore that really did very little to hide her features. She moved forward to offer one hand, her walk towards him a sure footed prowl, "Pleasure's mine I'm sure. They call me Bombshell. What's your name, handsome?"