alderwitch
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"Healing and that all really isn't my thing," Ray replied with a sigh as he cast the hippy a brief, frowning look at his dreamy, slurred information as he answered Sam's unspoken question, "It should just mellow him out, hopefully chase out some of the lingering mania but I might have hit him harder than intended. Like I said, it's not really my strong suite. Never has been. His memories might be a little fuzzy though when he shakes it off but that's probably for the best. Last thing I need is him trundling back down here with questions." Ray finished mopping up the floor and went to stuff his shirt in the biohazard bin. "I'll have to hit it with bleach later but that'll do for answering the EMT's questions." He held his hand out for the script then, "Look, I appreciate you folks trying to help but anyone beating down the path looking for Carcosa is not going to be happy-fun times. You've more than done your duty as good samaritans but it might be dangerous."
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Bombshell Count Your Blessings Hell On High Heels No Nationality Or Religion Old Fiends Pop Some Tags Nighthawk Get Low Monster Mash Plentiful Harvest Triskaidekaphobia Worse Places Than This Psyche All The Colors of the Sky He Danced With Me Kiss Me and Smile For Me Phantom Blood Drive Renegade A Slow Parade Tattered Marks
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"Hmm," Robin said as she settled back on the couch and folded her legs up under her. Her lips curved in a small smile as she pronounced. "Show us... the coolest magic spell you have in your bag of tricks," Robin pronounced finally, gauntlet thrown. "Something worthy of Halloween in a haunted house!"
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Bombshell goes on 13: (1d20+7)=13 Maybe seeing Kantor has thrown her off her game
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The glowing figure that represented Alex's presence in Dancia's mind reached out one hand to wipe the scene away. The images of these memories rippled like the surface of disturbed water, leaving them for a moment floating in Dancia's mindscape without a memory as backdrop. Its not unheard of for broken memories to be mended with another person's thought patterns, Alex commented as they floated, If there's a willing donor, its often much easier than creating memory from whole cloth. Of course, there are also less scrupulous psychics about permission. Borrowed memories are easier to patch in than creating whole cloth in general. She reached out her hands then, disturbing the mindscape once more as her deft touch peeled back another layer, There's also the possibility that the memories are a secondary effect. If it was necessary to borrow skills or more core-knowledge, memories can cling to that sort of a transfer. Like cobwebs. Or after images.
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"Thank you. I've always liked this car. As to traveling, there's always another weekend but Atlantic City would not be my first choice. Monte Carlo, though, now there's a place worth visiting but we should wait until the spring. Weather's terrible this time of year," Talya replied as she pulled out smoothly from the curb once Raina had settled into her seat. Despite the flashy car, Talya drove through Freedom City at reasonable speeds. "It's the car I use for public outings as Natalya Browning. I have a few but this one screams 'British spy'. Its always good to remind people of my origins when visiting Blackstone." Talya pulled the car smoothly onto the main road from Claremont's more remote side streets before she slanted a glance towards Raina, "How are you holding up?"
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Talya, however, gave the chocolate a side long look as she recognized well Dimitri's 'I am harmless kindly Russian grandfather' routine. "Mitya," she said, drawing his the diminutive version of his name out in gentle chiding. The 'Be Nice' was silent but clear in the side long look she gave him. Giving Min's waist one more squeeze in mute reassurance, she stepped forward to intercept the frozen bar of chocolate with deft fingertips. She'd rather not let whatever that particular game play out as she had no way of knowing just how solid the chocolate had gone in his pocket. "The godling he's talking about is an Egyptian, my love," she added to Min over one shoulder, "A lot of Egyptian activity of late, it seems."
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Talya's smile softened slightly as she took the baby from Min's arms, and not because she was an excellent excuse to flee the room. "There's my little love," she said to Mia in a low murmur, "Come to be Talya's accomplice and perhaps I'll sneak you cranberry sauce when everyone's distracted, yes?" She turned, pivoting with the baby in her arms to offer Steve and Miss Americana a friendly smile. "You look lovely," she told Miss A, only to give Erik a bemused look at his commentary. She added, her words dry, "That's a compliment, truly. If he didn't like it, you'd have gotten a few polite words and a change of topic." Her sidelong look at Erik held a glimmer of subdued affection before her gaze shifted to Gina Espadas. "It's a lovely home you have. Thank you for having me, Gina," Talya said, from her easy friendly tone it would be hard to tell that she'd been deliberately avoiding the woman. "It's been a while."
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At least, even if the clothes weren't the sort to impress she could be comforted that her ride was almost as exciting as a flying broom. A sleek, black Aston Martin pulled up to the gates with the rumbling hum of its well tuned engine exactly on time. Talya stopped the car, unlocking the door for Raina to get in. If anyone could make the grey coverall stylish, it would be the blonde spy. Raina would likely be suspicious that Talya's shapeless coverall was actually tailored. She probably, honestly, couldn't have gotten away with her current super hero cachet but adopting the shapeless clothes had a two fold purpose. The primary one was to help Raina's spirits in what was doubtless a frightening and overwhelming situation. The second, of course, was that Talya was sure that hiding the collapsed batons would be much easier without bucking convention and she was in no hurry to step into the prison without an ace up her sleeve. Just in case. "There's my girl," Talya said, her voice chipper like they were off on a much more light hearted endeavor. "All set to go?"
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Inside the small cocoon of debris, Talya's progress had been laboriously slow in her attempts to shift herself loose from where the rubble had pinned her in place. Faintly, she could hear the muffled activity from up above, enough to know that there was movement and conversation but not enough to pick out what was going on or who happened to be shifting the rubble. Hopefully it was an ally but regardless, she wasn't going to do anyone any good where she was. As the weight on her chest and shoulder finally eased, Talya sucked in a wheezing breath and twisted to take advantage of the brief freedom and free her other arm. It was a pair of hands that thrust through the small opening made by the efforts of Willow and Geckoman's new dinosaur assistant, fingertips scraped and bloody from her efforts. The rest of a very alive - and very naked - Talya followed suit in short order to land on her knees on the ground. The bruises and scrapes gained from her efforts escaping the debris were already fading but the lambent glow of the necromantic magic that had resurrected the ex-thief still pulsed under her skin, turning the only scar that Talya had a brilliant red with every too-fast beat of her heart.
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"Carcosa was a place, of sorts. A civilization more than a place - if you believe the myths," Ray provided, frowning down at his stinging fingertips and then, more deeply, at his blood spattered floor - more annoyed at the mess than apparently about some concerned EMTs. "Some powers are worse to worship than others. It predates me which says something." He grunted and pulled off his blood flecked t-shirt before dropping it on the floor and using it as a rag to mop up the floor. It's not like he'd get the bloodstains out. "As to the EMT's, I'll just tell them that someone panicked about their new tattoo and called for medical attention. Wouldn't be the first time. You two alright?" Ray scooped up the now saturated formerly white shirt, holding it distastefully out from his body as he turned his attention to the two ladies. "Carcosa is something of a fabled lost land, if you happen to be into dark occult things or, occasionally, seriously deranged."
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Honestly, even if Mike had totally missed the mark on the evening out, that he had gone to the effort would have been more than enough to put Alex in high good spirits. Her presence in the back of his thoughts was a happy hum that accompanied the sounds from the master bathroom. It never took Alex all that long to get ready in general and she was eager to see what her fiance had in mind for the night. As usual, though, Alex dressed to her tastes and no one else's. She'd never listened to conventional wisdom that said redheads should avoid both pink and orange. In fact, her dress tonight combined both; a gauzy affair that started white at its sweetheart neckline and turned brilliant pinks and oranges by the time it reached the hem around her calves. It was cinched tight around her slender waist. It was very much not a winter dress, however, so Alex paused on the way to fetch her coat to float up and kiss Mike's cheek. "Don't you look handsome," Alex commented with a small smile. She smoothed her hands over the lapels of his suit before reaching up with light fingertips to remove the faint smudge from her lip gloss. "You haven't told me what the occasion is."
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"He has?" Robin asked, clearly startled by that news. The only thing Riley ever told her was about his plans to get back to his own world and help them. Having a back up plan wasn't a bad idea, Robin imagined, but she'd not really expected it from the tense archer. She stopped to think, debating and discarding polite lies. Robin really wasn't very good with lying in general. Avoidance, she had that down, but she was well aware that any off the cuff idea would probably be clearly just that. "I don't have any," Robin said, eventually settling on the uncomfortable truth. She looked down as she poked marshmallows into place in the dish so as to not have to meet Peyton's eyes. Her mouth flattened. Some of the heat crept back into her tone as she meticulously straightened marshmallows that didn't need the attention, "But I'm going to help the people in the Fens so they don't have to be scared at night. It's not like a paying job, but it's the right thing and I'm good at it. And I'm getting better every day." Her grey gaze lifted then, stormy and dark as she met Peyton's gaze. Her voice, however, was very polite, "Would you like me to put this in the oven, ma'am?"
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"Hrmm. Russian." That was Phantom's comment, phrased more like she was talking to herself but it was actually pitched for her spouse's ears. Jack had picked up many things over the years, but languages had been Taylor's bailiwick long before she adopted the cloak and cowl. "Russian and pretentious." The last was her own opinion. Seriously, what sort of person went around calling themselves master. Under her dark hood, she gave her spouse a sidelong glance. A small smile curved her lips, barely noticeable in the shadows. "I hear that's a problem for some as they age, though," her words were dry, laconic, but she was definitely teasing her husband. Her attention shifted back to Nicola, as she offered the explanation, "Jack keeps the vampires in the city in order and supplied with options so they don't turn violent and problematic. Freedom City is not a good place for violent, problematic vampires. Too many super heroes." Phantom's voice was studiously neutral. Oh, it wasn't that she disagreed with the plan in practice but the toll it took on Jack, on his morality, that was a private concern.
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Laughing, Robin went to drop back to the couch, pleased that she was through her turn on the game. It was tempting to get Riley back but Robin didn't want to be 'that couple'. Besides, Raina enjoyed the spotlight way more than Robin's boyfriend and really, Robin just wanted her friends to have a good time. "Not so bad, at least. Hey, Raina, Truth or Dare?" She arched her brows up, giving the words more drama with her intonation. Of course, now she'd have to come up with something to pester Raina with. Magic maybe. Raina liked doing magic and Halloween seemed a good night for that.
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Bombshell sighed like whatever Frost had brought up was a long standing point of disagreement. "Frost, we've only just met the woman. Besides, you have no idea how dangerous such investigations might be. There's no way to get any information ahead of time and you know how I feel about leaping into things blindly. It's always messy." Of course, Talya had agreed that tapping Thrude for information was sound but for all of his fondness for the blonde spy, he'd not brought her for her pretty face. No, she had her part to play and she did it very well. If Talya felt badly about manipulating the goddess with her machinations, that expression like so many others, never flickered across her aristocratic features. She turned towards Frost as if Thrude was forgotten, her voice falling into placating rhythms, "There's no need to rush into anything. It's not like we don't have time. I'm sure there's a favor or two that we could tap somewhere."
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Ray glanced over his shoulder as the book was taken although the bulk of his attention remained on the guy bleeding on his floor. That still seemed like an awful lot of blood for a human to lose to say nothing of whatever had damaged his brain to make it seem like this was a good idea. The aggravated sound that Ray made in the back of his throat was annoyed. He wasn't the most protective of his so-called 'secret identity', but he wasn't the sort to go blasting his powers around willy-nilly. That was generally asking for trouble. "Well, I can't say that the whole affair between Camilla and Charles would make a sort of play that lends itself to self flagellation... Wait, did you say Carcosa?" Ray said, his attention finally diverted from the bleeding marks. He frowned, then he sighed. "Dammit. Dammit." Turning back to the man, he reached out to touch his fingertips to the nape of his neck. This time, his tattoos were definitely moving, the red of the flames whirling away from a lambent gold that actually seemed to glow. In fact, it was glowing, as Ray tapped his true nature through the sigils tattooed up and down his body. Though, really, there was little finesse in the current magic he was using. Ray had never been a 'succor for the needy' type of angel. He was no healer, but he understood the mechanics of it even if in this case it was mostly raw holy power that told a mortal shell to be mended. The glow from Ray's hands was painfully bright, but brief. "'You are but a divided house.' Rest. Be at peace." The light flared from his fingertips and then sank below the skin of the man he touched, spreading down his back and filling in the jagged lines marking his back and shoulders before Ray lifted his fingertips, shaking them as if they stung. That was not what his tattoos had been designed for. Something to add to his ever growing list, though.
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Renegade's Knowledge (Arcane) is skill mastered at a +15 for a 25. So, I think he's going to stunt off his Enochian Tattoo Array: Heal 10 (Flaw: Limited to Others) [10 PP] (Holy, Celestial) Linked: Emotion Control 10 (Calm, Power Feat: Mind Blank, Drawback: Noticeable) [20 PP] For 30 of his available 32 PP in that array. The Heal should auto clear the worst of his injury conditions, the Calm is a DC20 Will Save and Ray will spend the HP to clear his fatigue just in case.
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There were some sights that Talya would be happy to never see again in her long, immortal life. It was an unfortunately ever growing list. An Omegadrone in the sky was almost definitely in her top ten. She'd been watching the demonstration with dispassionate blue eyes, having found something of a kinship with Steve in tactical matters. As far removed as she had come from her origins, some part of her would always remain a British intelligence agent. Forewarned was forearmed, which was way she was watching the demonstration in the first place. As Steve stopped sudden and robotic, Talya's muscled tensed. Many might be frozen by the sight of the armor bursting out but Talya had long ago learned how to work with her fight or flight responses rather than against them. Steve was faster than she was but he had a window to break through first. Hopefully that would give Talya a very, very small window of opportunity. One shot. I have one shot. She pulled out her baton from its holster on her belt, snapping her hand out and forward as her fingertips pressed the hidden trigger to fire the grapple gun concealed in the hollow steel shaft. There was no time for elation over making the difficult shot as the weighted end tangled around one of the flares of the Omegadrone armor. No, Talya only had time to get a decent grip before the entirety of her attention was on not ending up plastered against a building or sign at speeds well above the triple digits in miles per hour. Only when his course adjusted to plummet towards the earth, could Talya hit the release on the cord in the hopes of controlling her own descent. She was moving too fast for the strange magic that blurred perceptions to kick in but she tucked into a small compact ball, redirecting her momentum into a near soundless landing past Harrier and his targets, on the hood of the car that had been trapped in front of Gina's./ Erik's going to be upset about that window. If he's not more upset about Steve potentially being reactivated as 'Drone.
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"Hullo," Bombshell drawled, the words a laconic counterpoint to the Asgardian's bombast. She touched two fingertips to her mask covered temple in a small sassy salute, her other gloved hand still holding onto her drink. "If it helps, the forces of darkness throw the best parties. Wouldn't you say so, Frost? My parties really are legend." Bombshell said as she tried to find a discrete place to put her cup of mead now that she'd had the requisite sip with a goddess. All to often Asgardians got into drinking contests and immortal, or no, she had no desire to experience acute alcohol poisoning before magic resuscitated her from such folly. Finally she found a craggy rock to set her glass and conveniently free up her hands as well. "Osiris, if legend is to be believed. Honestly, we'd have better luck if the Book of the Dead was willing to cough up Horus - not that Set isn't a lovely god in his own right, or her if the mood strikes. But honestly, except for rare exception the Egyptians don't really do reincarnation. It would be easier if it were a more regular thing," Bombshell offered her opinion on the matter, with the sort of wisdom that had come from a former relationship with one of those exceptions. "As then there would be more clear rules on how one might put an end to it. It's certainly been proven that the whole dismemberment and immolation are not effective means of ensuring a lack of return, unfortunately."
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Robin glanced down at her forearms, pausing briefly in her potato peeling. Absentmindedly, she turned one arm so the wrist faced upwards. "Uh," Robin said, having to cast her mind back to the weights in Claremont's gym. There was no further solution in the mystery of where her powers came from, so the testing was an ongoing part of her weekly routine alongside training which was the only time Robin actually lifted for her physical exercise. Her focus, usually, was on honing her athletic and martial skills as Robin had little interest in how much weight she could toss around in a pinch. "Do you mean bench press? My bench press is around a ton and my bicep curls are usually the five-hundred pound weights, but the definition's mostly from training and gymnastics, honestly." She shrugged a little as she turned her grey-eyed gaze back to finishing up with the potatoes. "I used to do gymnastics a lot when I was little. That's one thing that's been nice at Claremont. I get to do some of that again. The gym is really nice."
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"Like... the book? Sure, sure. Like in the book. Got it." Ray said, his expression oddly dispassionate as he took in the man's mutilated back. Hell, it looked ritualistic. Ray didn't know what this man had in his pocket but anything that made a person cut on themselves to this degree couldn't be good. "You know I'm going to have to touch you to, ah, finish your work right?" He took one step closer ostensibly to look at the marks but his hand reached towards the man's jacket and the heavy weight inside. If he'd been alone, he'd have just taken the book but with the two women here, it made things more complicated. As Sam suggested looking at the book, he cut a glance to her and sighed, "Hell, whatever he has in his pocket made him think it was a fantastic plan to slice his back to hamburger. You don't want to look in that book, kid. It can't be good for anyone." Impatient now he looked back at the man, "You're going to give me this book and then sit down while we get you some medical help. You do not want to wrestle me. Trust me."
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Ray lifted his hands back, palms outward like he was showing he was unarmed. As the two women were out the counter, he stepped between them and the ever more frantic man. "Easy. Easy," Ray said, putting his broad back to the ladies and shifting one arm very slightly. Ray glanced down to the chain that had snaked its way down to his wrist, ready to call it forth if he needed it. "No one's messing up your jacket but you, my friend." He glanced down, wishing not for the first time that he wasn't confined to mortal senses but breaking those particular seals would mean further ink. And probably on his face. "Sure, let me see these patterns. Sit wherever you want."
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The business card would have to wait. Ray's head had snapped up at the guy's particular turn of phrase, so his attention was on the man staggering towards his counter at Sam's outburst. "Aw, hell," with the way that Ray pronounced that word, it almost sounded like a more potent curse than it was generally used as. He moved to his feet smoothly, with none of the laziness that had marked his movements before. "Let's get you down in a chair and take a look. You get stabbed, man?" Ray asked as he reached one hand out towards the giggling hippy currently bleeding on his floor. He was strong, although not inhumanly so, and as he reached out with his hands to catch the other man by the shoulders. Ray did glance away, towards Sam as she reached into her pocket. He nodded his head towards the handset phone on the desk, "You can use mine if you want. Then you don't have to try and figure out the address." The perceptive - or the very stoned - might have noticed the bright tattoos on Ray's forearms start to shift over his skin.
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Subtle twists and tugs gave way to yanking on them desperation. The knot was so damn tight. Sure, they taught her how to shoot a gun but why hadn't anyone thought to cover how to get oneself untied from a sacrificial alter in the SOE basics. Talya's skin began to chafe but even with blood on the ropes there just wasn't enough give. She didn't spare a look for the other three agents awaiting their doom with about as much aplomb. She didn't need to see the betrayal or satisfaction in anyone else's eyes. Especially if she could just get the damn ropes loose! When the dagger plunged through her heart, Talya expected the pain but she didn't expect it to burn. Or it to keep burning long after death should have released her. The debris of the building hid the blood red glow of the dark magic that resurrected Talya, forming her body once more from handfuls of the ash and smoke trapped under the tugboat. Magic told her heart to beat in defiance of all natural order, and it burned. It always burned. But that, at least, was familiar. Her first breath was sharp, short and she tried to twist against the heavy weight pinning her to the ground to no avail. Squinting at the devil's cheerful face in confusion, Talya groped with the one hand that wasn't trapped to sketch out the confines of her narrow space. Was she buried again? Not the shape of a coffin. Her fingertips traced over the rough expanse of rock and rubble, ignoring the sting when her fingertips were scraped by the jagged ends of a beam. Debris. A door, maybe? Experience told her that the best thing to do was let the magic finish its work. The too-fast pounding of her heart was more than enough to tell Talya that she was just on the edge between 'life' and 'death' but she didn't know how the battle had gone - or how long it might have been. Her teammates could be hurt. Min could be hurt. Talya's fingernails bit into the wood, her fingers curving into a claw, leaving small furrows from her nails in the face of the devil staring at her smugly. First, she was going to get her other arm free, then she was going to claw her way out of her current grave. And if - if - the people she cared about were still in trouble, at least Talya would have a serious element of surprise.
