Electra
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Stesha screamed as she tumbled into airless, weightless space, a scream that cut off abruptly as the reality of "airless" sunk in. She tried to snatch a breath, but there was just nothing there. "There's no air!" she squeaked, grabbing desperately onto Taylor's arm in the pitch darkness. Everything felt so overwhelmingly wrong, it was hard not to give into the temptation to give up on conserving air and just start screaming. This had been a really, really bad idea. Far away, she could feel her flower portal being ripped open, a sensation that crawled down her spine as just one more awful creepiness, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
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Stesha watched the fight from the back of the group, still a little dazed and distracted. The hostages were safe, tucked away in the furthest corner of her pocket, and the grotesque greenhouse plant was still contained. That was a good thing. The Green Man, however, was still radiating that sickly alien energy, for all he was unconscious and laying on the ground. Given how he was talking about the energy he'd sucked up, she didn't think it was a good idea for him to be left loose. One of the vines laying on the ground next to him twitched, then sprouted a pale purple lily, its trumpet opening to the sky as the stem lengthened. It grew and grew, bigger and bigger, until the slender stem seemed unable to support the huge blossom. The lily tipped, bell down, and fell right over the Green Man like a candle snuffer.
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With the Green Man incapacitated and radiating bad juju, Stesha's gonna eat him. Or rather, have her plants stuff him in her dimensional pocket. Since he is unconscious, no attack roll is necessary.
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"A guy named Dynamo," Wander told her. "He came here to take some classes or get some training or something, and started talking about how he wouldn't want to go here, because we have rules and schedules and curfews. He said that at the Interceptors, he could just sit around and drink beer with people instead. I kind of figured he meant like a frat house or something, you know? A lot of the Interceptors I've met..." She trailed off, realizing there was no way to say the words without being insulting of people who were probably her new mentor's friends. "I mean, I guess I don't know any of them that well."
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Wander looked around, then drew herself up and seemed to start at least making an effort. "I just got done with a training session," she told Fulcrum, gesturing to the blue and gold uniform she wore. "We don't have to wear these things all day, usually." She checked her watch, a cheap plastic thing that looked like it might have come out of a gumball machine, and whose face was already cracked. "Now is my homework block till three, then I have counseling, support group, and dinner, then an hour free time, then another training session. But it's summer, so after that I'm done for the night. Do you really party and drink beer all weekend at the Interceptors HQ?" she asked with what seemed like honest curiosity.
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Stesha was already patting herself on the back for the success of her snare when the baby suddenly disappeared. "Jack?" she gaped, watching Taylor disappear into the hole in reality. "Crap! I'll deal with you later!" A wave of her hand had a massive pink flower opening on the end of one vine, and swallowing the hapless villain whole. Stesha dove blindly after Taylor into the black void without a second thought.
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Stesha is shoving Zealot into her pocket on her standard, and then using her move action to jump into the void after Taylor.
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Stesha gave up her pretense of indifference and rolled up to her knees. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Instantly, vines began to boil up from the ground and snake down from the trees, grabbing hold of the interloper and wrapping him like a green and leafy present. Only the baby was entirely untouched in the mass of green.
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Stesha is using a Snare attack. 1d20+7=24 The DC on the Reflex save is 25. I'll post IC when I know whether or not it hits.
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Erin stared dubiously up at the balloon, still hanging onto the string. It seemed entirely impossible that anything any of them could do would move the balloon, but then again, Mark had created it, and he had really weird ideas about what was and wasn't possible. And the thing of it was, the universe tended to agree with him. If she tried to move it like a normal balloon, it seemed likely it would move. "All right, I can take it up to roof level and start moving with it. Where should I go?"
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Stesha will try to act like she doesn't see. With attractive bonus: 1d20+17=29
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Stesha: 1d20=3
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It's a tie! Nat 20, for 33.
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It was obvious to Erin that Lady Winter wasn't telling the entire truth, you didn't need to be a telepath to see that she was holding back. But Erin let it be for the moment, figuring that if it turned out to be important, Alex was the best one to elicit the information from her. "I joined Young Freedom at the same time Psyche did," she replied. "That was last spring. Do you remember your civilian name?" she asked. "That's probably going to be important for your paperwork."
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There was quiet for a minute as Erin considered the idea, her fingers idly scratching under OIiver's chin. "I guess I probably shouldn't," she finally decided. "This is the life I've got, and at least I don't know any different. I was kinda grateful when Rick Lucas' reality warping didn't work on me the way it did on the others. I didn't want to have memories of another life or another way it could've been. Cause what if having them made it even harder to live with what I've got? I appreciate the offer, and it would be really interesting and satisfy my curiosity, but I think I'm better off staying totally in my own head." Even with the refusal, her voice was a bit wistful.
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Now that the zombie had been subdued and left behind, the lost hero delivered to help and safety, Erin felt more comfortable fading into the background of the conversation. Alex was a thousand times better than she was in drawing people out and learning more about who they were and what they needed. Personally, Erin felt reasonably proud to have elicited a code name and the fact that Lady Winter was currently homeless. She brushed a few skeleton chips off her uniform and listened.
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Erin thought about that for a minute. She knew Alex was very careful with her uses of psychic power, and gave the offer the careful consideration it deserved. Finally she asked "Do you mean like letting me see generally how a random assortment of high school kids feels about life, or actually seeing into the head of my double, so I know how I would feel if everything hadn't turned out so differently?"
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"Ouch," Stesha said with amused sympathy. "Sounds like you need an angel intern to handle the mail. If you haven't ever seen Miracle on 34th Street, remind me to watch it with you sometime. It's about Santa Claus, but I think you might get a kick out of it anyway. In any case, I'll make sure to hand-deliver your invitation when I get them sent out, that way it won't get lost."
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Stesha laughed. "No, no dress yet, though I've started looking. My budget's not going to allow thousands of bird feathers, and I'm definitely going to buy instead of make my own, but I've got some good ideas going. Derrick will have a tux, and there are going to be lots of flowers. Millions of them." Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked about it. "That reminds me, do you get mail addressed to you at the place you're staying?"
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Erin had no such compunctions, her eyes flicking around the room for all that she had no idea what this Meaghan looked like. Given Trevor's unusually obvious discomfort, she could've been anything from drop-dead gorgeous to horns-and-a-tail. "Well, if she decides to come over, you'll have to introduce us," she murmured to Trevor. "Oh please, oh please," Cherrie begged, her eyes bright. "That is the only thing that's going to save us from the monotony." Up in front, a speaker was ascending the podium, but not too many people stopped their dinner conversations for him. Like the young people at the table, most of the diners were more concerned with being seen to support causes than actually hearing about them. She sipped her coffee and left her other hand where it was, more curious than nervous for the time being about how this was all going to play out.
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Erin pursed her lips and looked from one adult to the other. She wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed there was a warning hidden in Summers' words. She hadn't been officially reprimanded after the incident with Dead Head, but her training and headshrinking regimen had been stepped up once again. Another slip like that, and she wasn't sure what would happen. She might get taken out of the field entirely, and she didn't think she'd be able to stand that. Even if this mentoring thing did nothing for her, playing along seemed like a wise choice. "Yes, I'll do my best," she promised, not quite looking at either one of them.
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"Really?" Stesha asked, surprised. She'd half reclined in the grass just off the edge of the blanket, and a fairy ring was slowly spreading around her, apparently without her conscious direction. "But your place is so nice, and you put so much work into it. Especially the nursery, and I know you don't have a lot of time to spare on home improvements. Why would you want to leave now?"
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Erin did her best to remain blase, but she was pretty sure she raised at least one eyebrow as she looked over at Trevor. He really hadn't wanted to talk about his dance partner when the topic had come up in conversation at Frank's place, and she'd let it drop. She was briefly torn in her desire to know more about the mysterious Meaghan, but loyalty to a teammate always came first. "Dance partners come and go," she said lightly, laying a hand on Trevor's arm. "Swing dance is more an athletic event than it is a social activity, anyway. But speaking of dancing, do you think they're going to start soon?"
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Stesha paused to fill an old forgotten planter with bright hydrangea, the showy bursts of flowers spilling out over the sides. "I wish it were like they used to do it in, oh, I guess it was the 1800s or so, where the cemeteries were parks, and people went there for fun. They were the only green open spaces in the cities, so families would go and picnic there, children would play among the graves. I know cemeteries are places to have respect for the dead, but it seems like it's a shame to have places that are so beautiful be so sad. I don't know," she said, sitting back on her heels and looking up at him. "You have a unique perspective on it, what do you think?"
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Erin nodded thoughtfully. "I guess for people like you and Mike and Mark, it would be really weird. You'd have a whole entire different life. I don't even have to guess, I can just look at Erin Keeley's Facebook page. I just wonder what it would feel like to be that way, and have so little to worry about. Most people never knew when James tried to bring hell to earth, or when Rick rewrote all reality, or a half-dozen other things we've had to try and deal with. I wonder if they ever think about all they don't know."