Gizmo
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Winifred blanched noticeably as it became clear that her absence had been not only noticed but evidently remarked upon. "Well, I-- I had somewhere to be," she explained with an unconvincing stammer, turning halfway from the pair, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry for causing anyone concern but I'm hardly the first one here to miss a day of classes." She wasn't quite sure what qualified as 'the troops' but the thought of any small group discussing her sent a stab of embarrassment lancing through her. "I'm fine, of course." As if on cue tears began to well in the corners of her eyes, held back only through force of will while she desperately tried to think of a way to inconspicuously wipe them away. Giving up after a moment she ran the sleeve of her flannel shirt across her face with a sniff. "No one need put themselves out of their way, really."
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While Margery moved with long strides to one of the other rooms adjacent to the mansion's foyer Travis appeared from the first floor's main room, dark brown vest over an ochre dress shirt and jet black hair impeccably in place despite having evidently been lounging at home. "Mrs. Mongan. Please, come in. Had a pot of tea on already." Despite the terse speech patterns his soft tone and the way he gestured for her to take a seat by the fire spoke of the wry socialite known for throwing extravagant theme parties, though less so in recent years. That wasn't so strange; there were fewer parties altogether in recent years. By the time the curator had settled by the fireplace Margery had returned with a heavy blanket to wrap around her, clucking her tongue softly in concern. Travis sat back down across from Mongan and observed her face carefully with clear eyes. "When you're ready."
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Jack's reckless grin dimmed as he noted Kimiko's rising anxiousness. A few dozen gunmen didn't worry him as much as it probably should have but he didn't love to odds of one of them getting a lucky shot off at who he assumed to be their real target. "Listen, you're probably not going to like this but I think you better get her out of here and somewhere safe. You're the one who knows sign language, yeah?" he suggested to Foreshadow with a small what-can-you-do shrug. "I'll explain to these guys in the stairwell that their services aren't required and meet up with you after it's clear." In the confined space where they couldn't bring their greater numbers to bear and with nobody else to worry about he liked his chances.
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Winifred bit her tongue to keep from opining that if there was nothing wrong with menial labour they wouldn't call it 'menial' but expected her expression communicated the sentiment despite her efforts. The quiet dignity of cleaning up after someone else's messes largely escaped her. "Construction offers the opportunity for advancement! Surely there are opportunities for learning more of the trade on the job for someone bright and disciplined!" Apprenticeship had certainly been the model in her day though she'd gathered that a mix of theoretical learning and job experience was broadly favoured in the present day. She wasn't entirely clear how one accrued that experience without first being given a job but was sure there had to be a system in place. "Regardless, you're not the only one thinking about housing after graduation, you know," she continued primly. "Everyone is still working out specific plans, of course but I've discussed finding lodgings to rent with some of the others, thereby divvying up the costs. You would know this if you were around more frequently."
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"Delightful!" Reagent enthused as permission was given, already snapping up the blade and flicking a gloved fingernail against the metal to listen to the sound. She thought it probably best not to correct his assumption about her 'fancy' equipment; no sense wounding his professional pride by explaining that her techniques came largely from the mid 19th century, esoteric and fringe though they may have been at the time. "Naturally you'll be the first to hear about anything I uncover, sir. We truly appreciate the opportunity to learn, isn't that right, Mister Grim?" There was a demure charm in her voice that Matthew had only heard her use when dealing with cashiers or other adults she didn't expect to be dealing with for long.
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"Lord in Heaven, Smith, I didn't require the specifics!" Winifred balked, colour rising in her cheeks as she suddenly became very reluctant to look at her friend's hands. If she were being completely honest she might have had to admit to some small curiosity regarding the exact mechanics involved but that was easily outweighed by not wanting that image in her mind. She rallied in time to shield her eye from the glare of the explosion, noting the efficacy of the tripwire mechanism with satisfaction. She straightened upright to get a better look at the unexpected reaction. "Fascinating!" There hadn't been anything in her mixture that should have generated sparks like that but the heat generated certainly could have triggered a secondary reaction in the exposed minerals, assuming there was something more that simple crushed stone. Forgetting her own safety warnings she hurried closer to take samples.
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"Uh, Sippy Cup is a fantastic off-the-cuff nickname, dude. I'm pretty much an expert. Check it: 'Firstly' it references the way you've been sucking folks dry and landing them in the hospital," Jill began clarifying, imitating the shadowy figure's speech patterns with a distinct edge as she levelled the accusation beneath the veneer of levity. "It's got implied infantilization, establishing dominance and suggesting I don't regard you as a significant threat, yeah? It's got good cadence. Sip. Py. Cup. Sippy Cup. Three syllables is just about the sweet spot, sticks in the mind." She'd edged close enough that she knew she could reach what she assumed from the voice was a man in a single lunge while staying far enough away that she knew most untrained combatants would underestimate her reach. The shadows around them definitely weren't behaving normally but she wasn't sure what that actually told her about what she was dealing with. "And it bugged you which tells me this is amateur hour over here. You want to explain your deal and what's going on? Great. But you're doing it another few steps away from these people and with your hands behind your head, man."
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Lou Stealth Check: 1d20+18 34
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Riley's sharp hearing picked up a startled thump followed by footsteps before Winifred opened the door, hairbrush in hand. She'd pulled on a pair of the tights Raina had convinced her to buy, turning the flannel shirt she'd neglected to change out of into a respectable facsimile of the outfit of someone who hadn't spent the entire day in her sleep clothes. "Oh, ah, Smith. Of course." She stepped back away from the door, placing the brush down on the nearest surface and ushering him in with a small gesture. "Did you need, ah, use of the room?"
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While the others had taken time to change and properly equip themselves Lou was clearly wearing the same rumbled suit in which he'd spent the night in the holding cell. It looked like he'd at least taken a shower at some point and ditched the sunglasses but evidently his specific area of expertise didn't require a lot of specialized tools. Grimacing, he fussed with his earpiece for the third time since putting it in but his attention continued to swivel between monitoring the hallway and Sofia's hands as she worked on the lock. "Numbers don't add," he grunted, his voice low and eyes narrow. "Extra muscle and a new lock don't just say you've got something worth taking; says you think somebody's coming to take it specifically." Addressing Sofia directly he added, "Only door to the room. In and out quick and if things go wrong duck down and let me worry about it. Too good a spot to ambush somebody trying to leg it." With that he took a last look down the hall before opening the door.
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Lou Knowledge (Tactics) Check: 1d20+10 21
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"Of course, I know Matthew doesn't discuss such things for a reason," Winifred assured the hound before considering the rest of her words. It still hurt, everything still hurt and she was still afraid but it helped. It was good to remember that there were people - for certain loose definitions of the word - who cared and that her friends had their own troubles she wasn't of a mind to abandon them to. She'd already accumulated enough regrets as it stood. Following the dog's gaze out the front of the cell she noted the time on lower right corner of the television and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Fang. For talking with me and staying with me. I... I think I'll be ready to go back soon. Just... not quite yet."
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"You seem to be mixing animal metaphors now," Winifred huffed as she adjusted her posture but continued to scratch along Fang's spine. "You must have noticed that neither common sense nor self preservation is terribly prevalent among the 'pack'. Matthew believes himself immortal and why not; it wouldn't be the strangest thing in this city. Robin thinks she could beat the Alkahest in a fight or at least last long enough for anyone else to make their escape which is somehow sufficient by her standards. Smith remains in case someone should need to fire a bolt between my eyes and Cathy would be cordial to her worst enemy if it came to it." Even as she spoke she knew she was indulging in self-pity and twisting facts to suit her black mood but at least in the moment all of it felt true. "Faretti speaks to me just enough to test how far he can push and Phaedra thinks metamorphosing into an abomination is the most normal thing in the world. Raina is the only one with a proper, rational fear of me. If she hadn't been forced to leave her old friends she would have never even noticed I existed. If I... disappeared they might be dispirited for a day or two but they would be alive and that much safer."
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Alright, might as well use the surprise round to make a surprise attack: Soul Scythe vs Angry Little Guy; Charge, Power Attack 2: 1d20+10 25 That should be a DC 21 Will Save vs Damage.
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"Dude, could you be any more obviously stalling for time?" The heroine pointed to herself while matching the whispering figure step for step, circling about gradually to close the distance between them. "Jill O'Cure. Kind of a big deal." Her tone was all cocky bravado but internally she was focused on finding any clue to what she might be dealing with. Normally she'd have started the confrontation by trying to catch her target in a force field but hers were ultimately formed from bioelectricity. Given this predator's feeding habits that could very well be like trapping someone in a gingerbread house. Instead she let virulent green light wrap itself around her opposite hand, uneven shadows floating through the glowing miasma like flotsam. "One chance to get down on the ground with your hands behind your head, Sippy Cup."
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With her free hand Winifred massaged one temple to ward off an oncoming headache that had nothing to do with her more dangerous condition. Things always became delicate when Robin raised the spectre of her parents' murder directly. "In the kindest possible way, don't you think that proves your current strategy to be flawed?" she suggested, softening her tone and resisting the urge to poke her friend in the forehead every time she said something appallingly stubborn. The slightly patronizing patting of her hand she could take in the spirit intended but the self-denigration she would not tolerate. "You can't possibly bring your best efforts to bear while subsisting in abject squalor. Besides, I've seen the grades you achieve while devoting a meagre fraction of your attention to your studies; the notion that you are fit only for menial labour is provably false. If you insist on trading on your extra-human abilities surely your leadership and insight would lend themselves to private security or the seemingly constant construction work throughout the city!"
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"You've planned every detail, I see," Set observed with a fond curl of his lips. God of chaos or not he appreciated the effort Huang had obviously put into the date and really it was far more satisfying to be an agent of the unexpected with someone else playing the straight man. Metaphorically, in this case. "The venue, the courses. How did you envision the evening going, I wonder?" As he spoke the godling's foot had crossed the distance between them under the table and was slowly dragging its way over the dhampir's ankle and shin, pulling the hem of Huang's pant leg along with it.
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"How could I resist, Aster-Blaster?" Set replied with a broad smile full of perfect, gleaming teeth as he accepted the hug with his usual gregarious aplomb. "The event of the season, truly. Happy birthday!" Stepping back a pace once he was sure the surrounding crowd had had ample time to take their photos the godling regarded the bodyguard behind the socialite. "Tis probably for the best that the Lady of Slaughter was unable to attend. She tends to respond to someone biting her style with, well, literal biting." His low conspiratorial tone made it clear he was joking while a subtle raise of the brows he gave the broad shouldered woman turned the look to one of commiseration. He didn't get the impression she'd chosen her current cosplay outfit herself.
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Winifred raised both hands, clenching and unclenching her fingers in the air as if struggling to resist the urge to grab Robin by the shoulder and shake her violently. Her friend could practically see counting slowing in her head as she forced herself to remain composed. "Lord in Heaven, of all the fool things...!" Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment the alchemist let out a strained breath before opening them again. "You are not going back to-- to-- to living on the streets! I won't have it! Ridiculous." The way she worked her jaw and lowered her hands to grip the edge of the bench said she was holding back a few more choice words. "'Burden,' really. How many times have you literally had to carry me somewhere? 'Burden.'"
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Expression softening noticeably Winifred looked up from Robin's arm with a small frown. "Temporarily setting aside the obvious issue I take with any implication you somehow have less to contribute," she began, raising a finger to emphasize her words, "you must have realized the same concerns would be weighing on me whether or not you broached the topic. I hazard we'd find a solution more readily by pooling our efforts." She finished bandaging Robin's arm to the best of her limited ability - though not so thoroughly that she thought her roommate might be tempted to tear them off at the first opportunity to regain mobility - and began packing the supplies back into her bag. "I suppose it would be jejune to say that in lieu of traditional family we do still have each other and our friends?" She allowed herself a bit of a smirk at the sentiment, genuine though it may have been.
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Winifred's glare was positively acidic and she was someone who knew a thing or two about acids. "Improbably that ranks in the upper half of your recent plans," she judged in an accusatory grumble. She pursed her lips at the long line scored across Robin's arm, finding her basic supplies insufficient. "I expect any insistence that you should be visiting the nurse's office rather than the gymnastic equipment would fall on deaf ears. Have you put your thoughts in order enough to 'bother' me with them yet? If not I can fill the silence with additional admonishments for the next several hours at least. You've given me quite a bit of material and I've set aside the time from my schedule either way."
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On one side of the scales Set didn't have much patience for the imagery of his most ardent followers' fallen empire being used as set dressing. On the other side Set really enjoyed statues of Set. The charity business didn't hurt, either, he supposed. "They really managed to capture my good side," the godling mused, bright orange shutter shades perched atop the snout of the animal head he'd adopted to match the towering replica. His usual shendyt had been switched out for tiny bathing suit patterned with the eye of Ra which left precious little to the imagination. The young couple who had been taking a selfie with the statue of Horus hesitated, not sure if the unexpected figure was talking to them. "It's... three dimensional?" the blonder and taller of the boyfriends pointed out, his unsure tone inadvertently turning the statement into a question. Set gave his head a shake, sending brick red dreadlocks bouncing across his shoulders while his features returned to human proportions. "And every side a good one!" he replied with a dazzling grin.
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"Named for your smile, one might expect," Winifred mused with a weak laugh, discarding the pretence of composure to wrap her arms around the big dog in earnest, settling into a more comfortable position while continuing to scratch rhythmically. "Pleased to make your formal acquaintance, Fang." She hadn't giving much thought to the idea of the dogs having parents as such but it made as much sense as anything about about the pack. She slumped against the furry weight, too weary for her usual disciplined posture. "...the dream was about my parents," she admitted without really meaning to, the words spilling out while sounding to her own ears as if they were coming from terribly far away. "They died a long time ago, though it doesn't feel nearly so long to me, of course. I don't know that that's something a pack could chase away and even if they could... I'm a danger to them, Fang. An albatross." The alchemist squeezed her eyes shut again, fighting against a fresh wave of overwhelming emotions. "If I were a b-better person I'd..." Her voice broke and it was a long moment before she could speak again, words coming out in a croak. If she was a better person she'd protect her friends, protect everyone around her. "I'm afraid."
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Winifred looked up to meet the dog's eyes before huffing in resignation and adjusting how she was sitting so she could more comfortably reach behind its ears. "It's rather difficult to believe despite your instance but I suppose there comes a point at which I must take you at your word." Scratching around the base of the hound's ears she unconsciously shifted closer until the preternatural beast was nearly sitting in her lap, resting her head in the fur of its neck. The rhythmic motion and comforting presence helped her get herself under control enough to stop her tears as least, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. She stayed that way for several minutes before softly noting, "I don't really know much about you and your friends, really. You don't seem to use separate names for yourselves. Do you sleep? Do you dream?" The thought had started rooted in curiosity but the specificity of the last question revealed the direction in which her mind was wandering. There was another pause before she admitted in a whisper, "I had a nightmare."
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Winifred watched the hound walk through the theoretically impervious wall in nonplussed silence, trying to sort out enough of what it had said to form a coherent response. While there was no question that the dogs weren't any sort of mundane animals what they specifically were remained a mystery that neither they nor Matthew seemed compelled to clear up, leaving much of what they said devoid of context. Not that they generally talked as much as this one was to begin with. She supposed a canine was no better equipped to react to her condition than a human being. "I can see how a cage would be a poor disincentive for you, yes. And thankfully the plumbing of the present day is not so far removed from my own," she told the hound with forced airiness that was undercut by frequent sniffling. She opened her mouth to continue but found her lower lips trembling in spite of her. She worked her mouth silently for several moments, drawing her shoulders together before managing to mumble, "I... I couldn't be around... people today, is all. It wouldn't be s-safe." She stumbled over the last word and hid her face behind her knees again.
