Electra
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"I imagine so," Miss A answered faintly, her attention captured by the figure in the bed. She picked up the chart and began to scan through it, even as she watched the monitors. Something about her presence here was making Dr. Suri obviously uncomfortable, but she couldn't be bothered to care too much about that at the moment. "Where's Dr. Irons?" she asked the hospital director without looking up. "I wanted to ask him why he canceled the request for a neurology specialist yesterday. It seems patently obvious that one is needed here." She did look up as the members of her handpicked medical team came to the door, gesturing them inside. "I'd like an assessment on his condition and whether he's stable to transfer as soon as you can," she told the team. "I'll handle the family if necessary." -- Over in Blackwater, Cavalier had only been at the bridge a few minutes before he was joined by a pair of nondescript white panel trucks and a beige SUV full of engineers wearing ArcheTech badges. Some of them gave him a look but did not disturb him as they quickly began the process of unloading gear from the truck. They obviously intended to begin retrieval of the lost material right away, paying as much attention to safety as possible under the circumstances. All of them wore streamlined hazmat suits and carried some kind of detector on their belts, quiescent for the moment.
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"I'm sure your treatment has been exemplary, Dr. Suri," Miss Americana assured the physician, shaking his hand with a warm smile. It would've taken someone who knew her well to notice that the heroine was phoning it in today, all her pleasantries no more than practiced habit. "I took the liberty of doing a bit of research on your facility, and for a regional hospital of its size, Cooper County has an excellent record. If the team does elect to move Mr. Evans to a different hospital, I know it won't be from quality of care issues. I'd like to take a few moments to look in on the patient, if that's all right. Has he shown any signs of waking up yet? And does he have any family here at the hospital?" And perhaps there was a brief flicker of unease behind Miss Americana's polished affability, but facing the family of a man injured while working for one's company was certainly not going to be something an executive looked forward to.
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Stesha furrowed her brow at the scientist's findings, momentarily transitioning away from mild-mannered superheroine into hardnosed biologist. "Are you sure about that? Soil samples are lousy with the DNA of life forms existing in a biome, and in an undisturbed environment like this one, it's hardly unlikely that the DNA evidence would be even thicker than usual, or that the DNA of the plants and animals would be closer together. Even modern humans share fifty percent of our genetic code with bananas, after all." The next few minutes involved some intense discussion with the scientists on the team, as well as a review of the samples gathered thus far and something involving a fern that grew out of nowhere at Stesha's feet and disappeared just as quickly. Finally, she blew out a long breath, looking a little confused still, and a little alarmed. "If the entire biomass is one large lifeform, it represents an amazing scientific possibility," she told the others. "For such a seemingly diverse collection of species to in fact be a single organism would have huge implications for the way we look at biology and life sciences. Killing it is totally out of the question. We have to find a way to subdue it, or if it insists on rising, to mitigate the damage that it's going to do when it happens. We need to get a better look at it first, though."
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Erin, who ordered orange juice for herself, would've laughed, if the comment hadn't said so much about Janet's utter lack of awareness. She was his mother, how could she not know something so basic? How could she not realize how special and brilliant her own child was? "And Trevor's in an accelerated engineering program now," she continued brashly, suddenly determined that Janet should get some glimpse of what she was missing out on. "He practically built his own motorcycle from the ground up, and he can drive or fly anything with an engine. People are going to be begging him to work for them when he graduates, if he doesn't decide to go into business for himself."
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On the morning of July 5, in the nearby town of Marshall, there was another disturbance that was enough to knock talk of the previous day's celebrations off of everyone's lips. This was not too difficult, considering that a constant drizzling rain had dampened the town picnic and prevented more than a few sullen fireworks, but it certainly was not every day that a superheroine and business magnate came to town! The sleek private plane from ArcheTech, just barely small enough to land on the runway of the Marshall Memorial Municipal Airport, landed just after dawn to disgorge a whole passel of important-looking folks. There was a team of doctors, specialists, it was said, in neurology and accident trauma, who headed right on off toward Boonville in a fancy rental car that had come all the way from Sedalia after Rod at Rod's Ready Rental admitted that his fleet of four cars were mostly good for getting around Marshall and not much else. The doctors were escorted by the only private ambulance in Saline County, though as far as anybody could tell, nobody was riding in it. There was another group from the plane too, a bunch of science and engineering types, the sort anybody who knew about anything would expect to see on a plane from ArcheTech. They had plenty of equipment with them, some of it looking like fancy computers and scanners, some of it looking more like fancy pulleys and winches. Those types spent a long time milling around on the tarmac before they organized themselves and loaded a couple of trucks to head off towards Blackwater. That would've been plenty of excitement in and of itself, but it all paled to the fact that Miss Americana herself had disembarked from the plane as well. She was in civilian clothes, blue jeans and a red and white checked blouse, but there was no mistaking someone who looked like her, especially coming off an ArcheTech plane. Nobody could say she wasn't friendly, the locals agreed later on while discussing the matter, but she obviously had a lot on her mind. She'd signed a few autographs, shaken hands, but her attention was definitely focused on something else. Smart money said that those machine tools that Evans fellow dumped in the river were a lot more valuable than anyone had thought. This conclusion was bolstered by one of the pilots, who'd mentioned in an unguarded moment that the ArcheTech people were retrieving their lost shipment before it could pollute the water. That would explain the doctors as well, the curious decided. If Pete Evans was driving an ArcheTech shipment, the company owed him, didn't they? And no matter what people said about ArcheTech, it was a company that cleaned up its messes. In any case, well before noon, she'd taken to the air like the very best of fireworks and headed off towards Blackwater, leaving a few technicians behind to look after the secured plane.
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Roots twined around Fleur before she could react, cocooning her body and pinning her arms to her sides. Outwardly she was completely unfazed, though inside she felt as though her heart were beating treble-time. Not just in fear, though there was some of that. It was anticipation, as though some part of her psyche she hadn't known existed was looking forward to testing her own powers against something so massive. "I'll take that as a compliment," she told him, making no visible attempt to struggle against her bonds. "Weeds are just flowers that don't need anybody's help to go where they like." She closed her eyes for a moment, drew in a breath. The chamber suddenly smelled overwhelmingly of flowers, lilies and lilacs, hyacinth and hibiscus, till it was nearly overpowering. As she opened her eyes, spread her arms, the roots around her crumbled into powder and fell away. The effect spread like a ripple in a pond, all of the roots suddenly withering and decaying from the force of her will. As her feet touched the floor again, she gave the Green Man a mirthless smile. "And weeds are almost impossible to get rid of."
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Alas, Fleur is snared. Luckily, she doesn't have to be free to use some of her more exciting planty powers! The Green Man is a plant monster, if we are sticking with past rulings, so is affected by plant descriptor powers. Like disintegrate! That's a DC 28 toughness save, even if it's immune to the linked fort drain effect. If the plants in the room and the vines snaring her are real plants that the Green Man is manipulating, she'll target them instead and dissolve the snare and any surrounding plant life.
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Online Research: What condition is the driver in, and what do the police think happened to cause the accident?
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Erin tried to conceal her surprise at Janet's reaction, though she suspected she didn't do a very good job of it. It was perhaps the last response she'd expected to get from someone who was apparently extremely at home in the status-obsessed set the Hunters traveled in, but maybe someone who tried as many new things as Janet did had learned the value of on the job training. It should've meant nothing, given that the source was Trevor's negligent and absentee mother and that it related to a decision more than a year in the past, but it was also the first time an actual adult had come right out and said she made the right choice in not going to college. Pretty much everyone else had disapproved, often overtly. Just having someone say she was right was oddly uplifting. She wasn't sure how she ought to feel about that, so she filed it away for later and turned her attention to the shift in topic. "Claremont is an excellent school," she was able to say with no dissembling as they walked into the main dining room. It was still early enough that many of the revelers from last night were still in their beds or taking room service, leaving them a choice of tables. She headed automatically to one that would put their backs to a wall, even if that meant avoiding some of the more scenic windowside tables. "It was the network of people I met there that let me get my job, plus a lot of extra training. And Trevor did even better than I did at school, he was near the top of our graduating class." Their success at school had been measured by much more than grades and networking, but Erin wasn't sure that Janet knew enough about the school to understand how literally they'd done "a world of good," so she kept quiet about that part.
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Stesha goes on 17.
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"No, I'm not," Erin countered, sending half a glance Trevor's way as though to seek some reassurance for herself now. That wasn't exactly an easy topic, though she'd gotten it before and had a little patter. "I decided to start work immediately after I graduated high school, with a start-up technology company in Freedom City. It's called Halloman Advanced Experts, I don't know if you've heard of it, but it's doing very well. I figured that school could wait, but good opportunities don't come along that often, right?" She smiled a little. "And looking over some of Trevor's engineering coursework, I think I'm glad to have kicked that a few years down the road." Not exactly truthful, but not exactly lies either, and much more socially palatable than the "no, I skipped college to be a security guard" that was her original graceless answer.
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Miss A is going to use her Online Research ability to gather information using her formidable skill with Computers. She's looking for info on the Torchlight Foundation, the person or people behind it, and this building in particular.Skill Mastery gives her a 42.
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Distracted by the fight she was already involved in, Erin nearly tumbled over the balcony after the "T-Rex" she'd been about to jump on suddenly turned into a puny human. Superlative reflexes let her turn the fall into an attack, coming down feet-first on the center of the shapeshifter's back and neatly slamming him to the ground. "No worries," she told Mark's retreating form, "there's still plenty to do." Slinging the shapeshifter up over her shoulder like a sack of flour, she jogged after the reality warper to go find the others. "I just hope we don't have to account to anybody for a missing dinosaur skeleton."
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Erin glanced at Trevor, resisting the urge to quirk an eyebrow at his mother's opening salvo. She was reassured, at least, that Janet's social game wasn't actually so advanced as to make her insults imperceptible. If Janet had been a regular socialite, Erin might have been tempted to lob one back, but she suspected she'd be sadly outclassed, and that it would just make things more uncomfortable for Trevor. He was already looking uncomfortable enough without her help. She slid her arm through his and gave his hand a quick squeeze as they walked to the elevator. "You'll have to catch us up on everything you've been doing," she told Janet as they waited for one of the glass elevators. "We had no idea you were going to be in Monaco this weekend."
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"Yeah, that usually works," Erin agreed, going to her own suitcase on the other dresser. "Everybody likes talking about themselves. Is she still doing the thing with the company?" Erin had to admit she didn't exactly keep up with the comings and goings of Trevor's parents, even less than she kept up with the White family of Earth Prime. Blood relatives they might be, but they were very detached from the business of everyday life in Freedom City. She picked up a pair of jeans, then glanced at Trevor's outfit and subbed in a pair of heather-colored slacks and a breezy spring top. Wearing a dress to have breakfast with Trevor's mom just seemed too weird. Two minutes to dry her hair, and she was more or less ready to go. "All right, guess we'll make a more put-together impression this time, anyway."
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"But first you took their homes away from them without asking, and you influence their will even now," Fleur guessed, curling her fingers around the seeds in her hand. She had no way of telling for sure, but the woman they'd rescued had certainly not been in her right mind, and the story of the Champions suddenly defecting to the side of "Gaia" didn't sound like something they'd have done on their own. She herself made no study of plant pheremones, but she knew it could be done. "You cannot spread your domain into other worlds," she said firmly. "Those worlds have the right to grow and develop in their own way without your interference. If you don't restrain yourself, you will have to be stopped."
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Erin considered this explanation as she finished the rest of her cinnamon roll. "So if I feel lost and behind the curve talking to socialites, and socialites feel lost and behind the curve talking to your mom... well, maybe she'll just lap me, and I'll be so completely lost I won't even notice if she insults me," she reasoned optimistically. "And what the hell, I think we've already reached the peak of possible awkwardness without Mark being involved." Walking up behind Trevor, she rested her chin on his shoulder and put her arms around his waist for a comforting squeeze. "Anyway, we just have to deal with her for a little bit. I'm sure she's busy with a million things, right? And then we can get back to doing whatever we want. We can make sure to watch the race from someplace she'd never think of going, just in case."
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Erin pursed her lips and tucked her tongue in her cheek as she watched Trevor's discomfiture. Very little rattled him, either as a seasoned superhero or a polished and well-trained high society scion, so it was always interesting to see him be rattled. Especially in a situation like this, where she suspected there was no actual danger involved. "There is always the window," she agreed, attempting to look serious as she went to her own suitcase. "If we jumped now, we could rush the gate at the parking garage, get to the airport and charter a private plane. Fly to some out of the way country, change our names, and try to lay low for a few years. It could work," she deadpanned, before returning her thoughts to the earlier conversation. "She seemed surprised that you and I were still together."
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Erin stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, then dissolved into helpless laughter. There didn't seem to be much else to be done at this point. "I guess it's a good thing I put on a robe," she quipped, glancing towards the closed door. "I think that would've been the only thing that could've made that more awkward." She walked back into the living area, pulling the lid off her plate and sampling a warm cinnamon roll. "Your mom is pretty intense," she commented. "Generally when someone checks me out like that, I'd be expecting them to try and either punch me or kiss me. What do you think she's doing here?" she asked, her words slightly garbled as she took another bite of breakfast.
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"Your emissary was disoriented, destructive." Fleur stepped forward a few more steps. "Violent. We were able to restrain her peacefully, but she still seemed enthralled, as though her will were not her own. She spoke of seeds coming with her. Do you intend to force other worlds into your new civilization?" she asked, her voice growing a bit sharper. "You may have driven out or killed anyone who would not bend to your will here, but the multiverse is a big place, and I suspect most universes will not be interested in being overrun by plants. What you've made here is lovely, but I suspect the cost was higher even than you're letting on. What happens to people who don't do what you want them to here? Are they forced to leave? Are they allowed to leave? Can the people here do as they choose, or do you choose for them?"
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Erin half-turned in the doorway, looking between Trevor and this familiar stranger. "I guess that explains the resemblance," she murmured awkwardly. She kicked herself inwardly for not making the obvious connection earlier; she'd always known that Trevor had two living parents and it was certainly more sensible that they'd run into his mother than some time-displaced alternate self vacationing on Earth Prime. Well, except that she'd met plenty of alternate selves and time displaced folks in the last few years, and Trevor's mother had always been something of a mirage. Travis and Trevor were so much like father and son, it was easy to forget the generation between them. Forcing a smile to her face, Erin adjusted her bathrobe slightly and hoped she'd managed to wipe off all the makeup from last night. She realized suddenly that she had no idea how much Trevor had told his mom about her. "I was just thinking how much you look like Trevor," she told the immaculately groomed woman across the hall. "You must be Janet Pryce-Hunter. I'm Erin White, it's nice to meet you." The banal pleasantries sounded incredibly inane in her own ears, but there was really nothing to say right now that would probably sound just right.
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"Somebody's frisky this morning," Erin grumbled, rolling over to study Trevor through slitted eyes. In an instant, she snaked out one strong arm, grabbing him around the waist and reeling him in. "Well if that's the way you want to play it..." Breakfast ended up being somewhat delayed, but Erin was in a much more cheerful mood by the time they finally got around to ordering breakfast. She took her shower first, so that by the time the waiter knocked on the door, she was clean and in her bathrobe, trying to chase the last knots from her hair. Since Trevor was in the shower, she padded over to the door barefoot and answered it, giving the waiter a blandly pleasant smile as she held the door open for him to wheel in the food. This was a very fancy hotel, so the waiter set the table and put the plates out and everything while Erin just stood awkwardly at the door, wondering if she ought to close it or just wait or what. The food looked and smelled really good, making her realize she hadn't really eaten much but appetizers since the amazingly slow lunch yesterday. She gave the waiter a nice tip and shooed him out the door, and was just about to close it when movement caught her eye. The guest across the hall was also engaged in morning routines, picking up the newspaper off the floor by the door. As she straightened up, Erin realized that it was the woman from yesterday, the old-Tricia woman. Still a bit morning-bleary, Erin stared at the woman a few seconds longer than was polite, wondering what could be going on here. Could those looks really be coincidence?
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Next to him, Erin was asleep on her stomach as usual, completely unbothered by the light since her face was buried in the pillows. She woke instantly when he stirred, though, her momentary hyperalertness fading quickly back into sleepy comfort. She was looking a bit worse for wear this morning, her unremoved eye makeup smeared into shadows, her hair an auburn fright wig from the effects of seawater, hairspray and vigorous activity. The overall effect was slightly clownish, though it would perhaps be better to let that go unremarked. Shoving a hand through her hair to at least keep it off her face, she blinked owlishly at him. "We're on vacation," she reminded him, then shoved her face stubbornly back into the pile of pillows.
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"And you too," Erin agreed with a soft chuckle. "You sure know how to make them memorable." Pulling her other arm from its sleeve, she wriggled her way free of the dress and kicked it onto the floor. Thanks to Frank's great vigilance, the structural garments that went under the dress were concealing enough to fight in if necessary, even as they pushed and lifted and squeezed everything around. It was sort of like a much more uncomfortable version of her swimsuit from earlier. "You know, speaking of memorable, I wonder if we go to these things long enough, our reputation will start to precede us. Like I don't think swing dancing is too common at these parties, most of the people are too drunk or too old or too out of shape. People could invite you to parties just to liven things up." She paused to consider that for a moment. "Though half the time, a supervillain or a monster or something would attack, and that's probably too lively. We maybe should keep to the low-profile thing." Suiting actions to words, she pulled him back on the bed till they were both laying flat, bodies just a few inches apart. Tracing her fingers along his collarbone and down his sternum, she mused, "Now that I think about it, just going to sleep would really be a waste."
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"Mmmm, stranger things have happened," she agreed, sounding somewhat abstracted. The feeling of his lips on her neck, plus the loosening of the constricting dress, had her sighing with pleasure as she began tugging her arms free of the sleeves. "If there are some, I think I really ought to know about them." She pulled one arm free of the glittery green bodice and ran her fingers through his hair, tilting her head at the same time to give him better access for counting. "You know, those parties were actually pretty fun. I was hardly nervous at all, even when people started talking to me." Trying to make small talk at fancy parties was not a strong suit for her, but tonight all anyone had wanted to talk about was cars, so it was basically perfect. "And the dancing was good, too. It's fun to surprise people."