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Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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Everything posted by alderwitch
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"Well, that is something of my speciality. Normal ink wouldn't really want to stay on my skin either." Ray agreed with a friendly smile and extended his hands slightly, as if he were showing off the mystic tattoos. Which, really, he was. Ray was nothing if not a craftsman proud of his work. He accepted the card, taking the growth of the giant flower in stride as he slipped her card into his much more mundane wallet. "Thanks, I'm feeling much better. Even better than pain killers." At that, he gave Ellis a little pat on the shoulder, seeming to be cheered by the doctor's grumping in return. "Alright, alright, I'll clear out of your hair, then. Satisfied I am not of the devil?" He asked with arched brows, still bemused by that. "And if you ever want any pointers on what to do with an actual demonic possession, you know where to find me, doc."
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That Talya did not give an involuntary shudder was a testament to her rigorous self control. Even of her war years memories, the operations during the siege of Leningrad were especially grim. Instead, she gave Erik's question a mute look of dismay, "Mercy, no. Nothing like that t'all." Talya was quick to correct. She swirled the vodka left in her cup briefly before mutely holding it out to Min for a refill, "We were both freshly immortal in 1942. Technically, I was under the direction of the German-Austrian branch but I was diverted to run supplies into Leningrad during the thaw as it was... well. Dire." Retrieving her cup she took a sip of the drink, letting it burn her throat. "I almost threw up on his boots and he's felt some odd obligation to keep an eye on me ever since." Talya explained as if that summed up their relationship and then offered with equal clarity, "Erik came to fetch me out of jail when there was a small miss-understanding."
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Craft artistic, technically! But its skill mastered at a 30
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The shop wasn't all that large but it was very clean. the walls were painted black but that seemed more to make sure that the artwork adorning every square inch of space stood out. There were only a few tattoo stations, but they were all empty but for the blonde man sitting at the counter sketching a design. He glanced up as the door opened, setting the pencil down and stood up. He was tall, heavily tattooed from wrist to the shoulder of his muscle shirt. The colors decorating his arms were bright enough that they seemed like they must be freshly done. "Hey, come on in," Ray said with the sort of casual ease that came with running a tattoo parlor. Formality wasn't exactly their stock in trade. "Looking to get some ink done?"
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"Yeah, a bit like that," Ray agreed with an amused smile before it gentled slightly at Fleur's question. Reaching into one pocket, he pulled out a business card, "You're a sweet kid, you know that? I've been in exile, oh, since the late seventies. Recent enough as I clock such things but not so much by the measure of you folk. Long enough, though, to have a respectable business over in Riverside, though." He held the card out between two fingertips and grinned, "Ever want to get some ink, best place in Freedom City," he said as if it were fact rather than pride. He slanted his gaze to Ellis then, his brows arching, "On the house for you, Fleur. Half price for the grumpy man with the crush on you, though."
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Taylor had been planning on a quiet night at home, for once, after the brief trial of settling her five year old down to bed. Unsurprisingly, JJ was largely nocturnal by nature so keeping him on a regular schedule was rather critical to make sure he got enough rest to go to Nicholson. Once their son was down to bed, Taylor had fetched a book, intending to curl up in her chair in Jack's office until he was done with his evening's phone calls. Of course, if Taylor was having a quiet night, that more or less guaranteed that Jack's evening was just the opposite. That was how she found herself answering the alarm on one of the blood banks serving the vampiric community not all that long after sunset. "'Baby, can you get that for me?'" The ghostly effect of that echoing voice was somewhat ruined by her grumbled words. Phantom appeared in the back of the darkened blood bank, an imposing figure in her cloak and cowl that billowed in wind only the guardian seemed to feel. Despite her appearance, her muttering was more vaguely disgruntled wife than Chosen of Heshem, for all that it echoed hollowly in the empty room. Her eyes glowed briefly as she switched to scanning the room. Her spouse remained too charming by half. Still, how hard could it be to route whatever had set off the alarms? "Look, come on out. I'm not here to hurt you."
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"Its weird to think that if I'd met your doppelgänger we'd have nothing in common, even though we're from the same world. Dimensional stuff is weird," Robin commented, diverted from her fears at least to contemplate that oddity. Her chin dropped down onto Riley's shoulder, her body finally starting to relax a bit into his back, "I guess. I can probably just edit heavily. I'm pretty good at not saying that much. Hopefully I won't stick my foot into it too badly." Riley more felt than heard Robin's sigh before she shifted the topic, "So do you celebrate Thanksgiving where you come from still?"
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Hmm... Alex murmured, her psychic form raised one hand up, palm outward as if she were 'feeling' the content of this memory and those connected to it. It all looked right to Alex's discerning eye, with none of the rough edges or too smooth transitions that she'd expect from most created memories. It took a very deft psychic hand to weave together memories that weren't too roughly patched, or too carefully fabricated with none of the actual holes memories had. Perhaps it was because she was used to the faint 'echo' of Mike's presence that she caught what she did. If its created, its some of the better work that I've seen but, still, there's this faint.... Her fingers curled as if trying to tease out a thread from a tapestry, Almost an echo of something else through the memory. Can you hear it? Sense it?
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"I don't know, dear heart. I rather find the look endearing," was Talya's response was husky but loud enough to be heard. Still, she gave Min's brow a placating kiss to show she'd do her best not to provoke anyone to violence and one more squeeze before she finally unwound herself from Min's arms enough to accept the drink that Dimitri had so generously offered. As she stepped away from Min on light feet, there was certainly no injury to her walk but Talya was inebriated enough that obfuscating her training was one layer too many to manage. So, the few steps she took away from Min were lethal and silent rather than the exaggerated sway of her hips that usually masked decades of training. "And to old friends," She accepted her cup from Dimitri and the smile she fixed on him was faintly indulgent as she was coaxed into another round. It was a brief flicker of expression, but more than sober Talya might have let slide across her features and certainly telling to those who knew her well. Her touch was light as she reached out to press her fingertips to Erik's forearm, her apology genuine as she added, well aware of how serious Erik took the safety of his family, "Dimitri is more than another old war buddy, dearest. He's, ah...." She frowned and finished her vodka instead, letting the pleasant burn chase away. Talya turned briefly towards Dimitri as if she might find help from that quarter. She sighed, and switched to the marginally easier topic, "Well, I was promised yelling in Russian and maybe some tussling." Talya said instead and then tipped her head up towards her lovers, for once shorter than them both in her bare feet, "Klara is a nigh-immortal Amazon sort and her bride is a bit younger than I am, worked at MI:6. Klara is pressuring her wife to join her in living forever and the wife had some questions, and wanted some advice. It was not a pleasant conversation but I've had worse. Dimitri's conversation, what I heard, was arguably a less pleasant one. There are few feuds like Russian feuds."
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"Wish I knew," Ray replied with a long-suffering sigh. He offered Fleur a slow, lopsided smile before turning to set his discarded icepack neatly on the edge of the sink, "Something about humanity, I presume, and living a mortal life but at least I can make it a little easier on myself with the..." Ray trailed off, one hand lifted in half gesture towards the tattoos. Damn, Fleur was too easy to talk to. The angel had clearly said more than he'd meant as his expression tightened before he sighed, "Ah. Damn." It was a mild enough cuss word as English went but probably fairly profound when an angel muttered it. Even a disreputable angel.
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Robin briefly considered leaping off of the back of the motorcycle at that bit of news. Her shoulders hunched slightly and her hands tightened on one another locked around Riley's waist. "Great. I do so good with personal questions," Robin said, the words dry for all that they were shouted back over the wind. If she hadn't been so tense, the ride would have been a more enjoyable one. There were certainly things to enjoy about being tucked against Riley's back with the city whipping past. Unfortunately, the dread knotting her stomach was less than conducive to enjoying the scenery. She paused and then added, tipping her head to the side to shout over his shoulder, "Other Riley's girlfriend is probably not a homeless kid from the Fens, Riley. I'm still not sure your, uh, Peyton's gonna be super thrilled about any answers I give her."
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Its alright. I'm used to memories. Dancia could perceive the potent young telepath's presence now, a feminine outline glowing pink with the distinctive radiance of Alex's own powers. She hovered slightly above the ground plane of Dancia's mental mind-scape. And how does it relate to the eye-witness reports? Alex was familiar vaguely with the reports of Triakosia's arrival, she followed the news of the super heroes of Freedom City, but her own thoughts and memories were less important than Dancia's perceptions of events. What sort of fragments come to mind first when you think of 'before'?
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"Sure, whatever you wanna do," Robin agreed phlegmatically as she had already consigned herself to going along with whatever Raina deemed necessary. It wasn't like she had an actual clue what one did for this sort of a party, unless it was showing up with a mask on to punch people. Robin still thought that might make a more interesting evening out than trying not to get groped on at a dance club. She caught Cathy's nerves as the other girl approached and offered her a small smile, "It looks good." She offered approvingly.
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"Ehhh... that's a loaded term that can be inferred several different ways," Ray replied as he tucked his shirt in once more. It wasn't so much that he was unwilling to answer, as that he didn't actually know a brief way to condense angelic politics into human terms. "Heyzel's a nice kid. I like him. He's optimistic as only the young really can manage but, no, I don't really want to talk to him." That was true, but still without the sort of fear that the demonic probably should have for Heyzel. He frowned at Ellis's stern responses, and pointed out, "There are some concepts that don't track well to this language. I'm not what most of my brethren would call fallen. I haven't committed any grave sins nor am I allied with anything demonic. I am... I am 'learning a lesson'." Ray finally pronounced as if the words should have meant more than they did, or that there were capital letters involved. "Lessons that involve my current meat shell. It's very scintillating, I assure you, but I am no more predisposed to cause humans any harm than I was before my 'vacation'."
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"Well, then we probably shouldn't keep 'em waiting, hunh?" Robin said, her brow creasing just a little. She admitted after a slightly too long pause, "I'm nervous." The words were short, not quite sharp, but uncomfortable. That Robin was willing to admit to having any emotion about any given situation was some serious growth. Dr. Marquez would probably have been proud. She reached out a hand, not waiting for a response to her admission to snag the helmet that was waiting on the seat. Robin was clearly more hearty than a normal human - her wrestling of the Alkahest had certainly proven that much - but she still didn't really think of herself as bullet-proof. They still hurt, after all, and even if she could have survived a motorcycle crash, it wouldn't have been a pleasant experience. Carefully, she tugged the helmet down over her hair. Touching her backpack once more to make sure that her possessions were secure, she slipped onto the back of the bike. Though she'd never actually ridden on a motorcycle before, her balance and athleticism made the transition smooth and she settled onto the back of the bike surprisingly lightly. She slipped her arms around Riley's waist, a little tighter than strictly necessary but not uncomfortably so.
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Don't worry. I'm not offended. This time, Dancia heard the voice in her thoughts rather than out loud, although she saw Alex's smile curve alongside the words. The pressure against her thoughts was very gentle, deft. It was very likely that with how sensitive the presence in her head was, Alex might very well have been able to slip in without much to notice at all if she had been that sort of person. Fortunately for everyone, Alex was extraordinarily ethical in her power use. We can stop at any time. I know you want answers but the last thing I want to do is add additional trauma on top of whatever's causing you memory loss. Let's go back to the first memories you have, waking up. Dancia's mental landscape changed, the memories of her crash brought to the forefront since those were the ones that immediately after whatever had caused the initial trauma. Dancia's experience of these memories was all just a little muffled and she had the sense that the potent young psychic was somehow shielding her consciousness from whatever sensations came along with the memory.
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Robin had grave reservations about accepting a sleep over offer. She still had trouble falling asleep in the more-familiar Claremont dorms and at Riley's sort-of house, escaping to the rooftop might prove more difficult. Or worse, rude. She'd made certain the few clothes she owned were all freshly cleaned. Everything she owned still fit easily inside her black backpack and that was, as usual, slung over her shoulder. She'd cashed in a favor to have her unruly curls put into twists for the special event. She ghosted through the crowd on quiet feet as most kids were filtering out to their parents for the vacation weekend. If it hadn't been for Riley's offer, Robin would have been staying behind with the other students with no where to go. Robin offered her boyfriend a small smile, her nerves diverted by the sleek bike. "Lessons at the garage going well?" She asked before leaning in to offer a quick kiss of greeting. Her grey gaze dropped down to the bike and her smile widened, "It's very pretty."
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Robin's agreement had been quick and easy about going to talk things over for the group project, although once they'd sat down to order, she only briefly glanced at the menu before ordering just a glass of water. It wasn't that she wasn't hungry but she had no pocket money to speak of and although things smelled delicious, she was used to going without. "I'm still not really sure what this whole assignment is about," Robin commented, pushing her menu off to the side as the others went over the many options for dinner, "I mean, I've never had a creative writing class before. Is it just, you know, making up stories?"
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The ladies were still talking, arms twined around each others waists' and their voices too soft to carry easily up the stairs. Talya's jacket and shoes had been abandoned as for all of her cavalier punching of holes in the ceiling, she was careful of the dojo's floors. She turned her head slightly from where her brow had almost rested against Min's and offered Erik a small smile as he joined them. "Ah, I hope Dimitri didn't disturb you?" Talya offered, for once making no move to untangle herself from Min, nor put herself to rights. Dimitri was in the small circle of companions who were allowed past Talya's preferred veneer of poise. "I should have perhaps given some warning that I had company in tow but I have been trying to keep up with Russians and their drinking all evening. Which is most unfair when mine is the least supernaturally equipped liver involved. Well, and I suppose also one semi-retired MI:6 agent and her pocket flask." Talya tipped her head to the side, lips quirking as she tried to tally up her evening.
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Even if Alex hadn't had perfect recall, she'd seen the transformation countless times. It was possible - just possible - that she merely wanted an excuse to see it again. Her smile for Mike was small, affectionate, but she quickly turned her attention back to their guest. Alex picked a chair comfortably near Danica but not encroaching on her space. She didn't need to touch her, after all, to search for her memories. "If there are fragments you have special interest in, it might make it easier if you pull those up in your mind. Surface thoughts are always easier to touch than deep memory. They're also likely to be of greater import if your memory has spat them out in fragments. Dreams are usually the first place suppressed memories turn up, then in 'deja vu'." Alex offered a small smile, "Did you have any questions before we begin? You might be able to sense Mike's presence as a faint echo, just as a bit of forewarning. Some people do. Some don't. It just depends how my psychic link resonates down the 'line' so to speak."
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"My friends call me Alex," Alex agreed, watching the process with some interest, "Hmm... You know, Mike's glasses do the same sort of thing. I mean, he's never worn a mask but he just doesn't get recognized with his glasses on. Mike?" She said, turning towards him. Alex didn't have to add the rest of her request to remove them so she could visually compare the process. He was rather used to Alex's unflagging curiosity. Watch Mike's own transformation, she added to Dancia, "Have you ever had a psychic examine your memories before? I'm familiar with many of those who have operated in Freedom City but knowing if there are any other psychic fingerprints might make things easier." The elevator whooshed open onto one of the higher floors although they were well below the penthouse that Alex and Mike called home. A very professional looking personal assistant sat at a comfortable desk in what looked like a smaller version of the downstairs lobby. "If you could reschedule my plans for this morning, please, Melissa. Andrea can helm the meeting with Finances today if she has time or it can be postponed until next week. I already know what the quarterlies are looking like. I'll let you know if the afternoon needs to be shuffled around before lunch time. Thank you." Alex led the way into her office, another bio-metric lock opening her office door. Her office was large, with floor to ceiling windows that looked out on Freedom City along the main wall that a rather imposing desk sat in front of. Sometimes, even Alex had use for intimidation. But not today. Today she lead the way over towards large comfortable couches that, like the ones in her apartment, could handle the strain of her heavy-weight significant other. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you care for anything to drink?"
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"Ahhhh.... Yeah. Nice kid." Ray commented about Heyzel, although something certainly flickered across his features. It wasn't quite guilt or deceit. Embarrassment, maybe. He gave a little shake of his head and then turned his attention more fully to Ellis, and the pain buried in his words. "There is good in the world and evil too. Good doesn't always win out and life is often both capricious and cruel." He shifted in his chair then, pulling his long legs under him and rising to his full height. He was tall and lean as he reached for his shirt. Perhaps it might be a good plan to make an escape before Heyzel was called in. "I'm not quite an angel at the moment so its reasonable to not see a striking resemblance. I'm... hmm. On sabbatical." That was not quite the truth but close at least. "Of sorts."
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Ray shrugged and then winced a little. Oh, it was much better thanks to Fleur's magic and, thanks to her, he'd probably be able to actually work tomorrow rather than canceling half a dozen appointments. "I don't mind answering the question. I actually already answered it, but the good doctor just doesn't believe me." It had been an oblique, sidelong comment and he smiled faintly at Ellis's nettled responses. "I already told him I was on the side of the angels." He transferred that lopsided smile to Fleur, "And I have been for a very long time."
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"Been at it a long time, just not in your arena. Different sort of level," Ray answered amiably. His sigh of relief was genuine as the pain faded and he lowered the melting ice pack slightly to roll the injured shoulder. His smile was brief and unrepentant. "I have been called a troublemaker," he agreed and shifted his arm once more. The tattoos rolled across his skin, replacing the fire with jagged ice and the blue swirls of a snow storm. The glow was brief, faint, as he pulled just a touch of power from them to turn his icepack once more into solid ice. Putting it back on his shoulder, he added rather politely, "Thank you." Ray might have had forty odd years to adjust but pain was still not a sensation he rather enjoyed; despite the copious amount of ink work. He turned his green-eyed gaze back to Ellis and grinned, "You did. You fussed with your hair while you were on the phone. There's nothing wrong with wanting to pretty yourself for a potential mate. You all do it. Its very mammalian."
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"Nice to meet you. Though I know you by reputation. He wasn't kidding about calling in the big guns although, I'm not sure I'd qualify it as a higher power. My scale might be off," the blond man offered from where he was lounging in one chair, long legs crossed out in front of him. He was holding the icepack against his shoulder and offered the iron cross he'd been playing with still out to Stesha. His smile was friendly, if a bit distorted by the bruising along the one side of his face, "Look all you'd like. I can see why the good doctor was in such a rush to call you in." Ray hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on yet, so the tattoos in question were on display. "I did not get the drop on the sewer monster and my very real pain has gone unappreciated. Your handsome doctor friend is very suspicious and narrow minded." Ray commented and then added with a devilish look in his eyes at Ellis, "And he fixed his hair while you were on the way over rather than provide pain relief. Shallow."