Gizmo

Erik stiffened as the pair of teenagers stepped around the partial wall that separated the school's entranceway from the training area. It was almost imperceptible but the way his grip tightened on the rack of training equipment and his balance shifted, ready to throw the whole unit at a perceived threat to buy a moment to regroup might as well have been a billboard to Talya. There was a very short lift of things that got that kind of immediate reaction from the metamagi. Hellfire? The agitation was gone almost immediately as Cathy called to the room and he turned to face her with a wan smile. "Snowflake, right. Sorry, must have gotten the days mixed up. Give me a minute, I'll get things set up. I didn't catch your friend's name...?" He looked sideways to Raina, gauging her reaction to the newcomers, remaining where he was standing with one hand folded casually behind his back.

Creatures Stirring Bombshell and Jack of all Blades Espadas Apartment “Hush, hush, you’ll wake everyone up again,” Talya’s voice was soft, and her footfalls even softer as she padded into the nursery that the twins shared to collect her wide-awake son before he could wake up his sisters with his babbling. The thief smiled despite herself as she scooped up the blonde baby and pressed a kiss to those almost-white curls as she swooped him out of the room and across the apartment to hopefully let the rest of the Espadas family sleep. “I suppose someone was bound to inherit the night-owl tendencies, hmm?” Talya kept her voice low as she returned with Terry in her arms to where her cup of tea was cooling next to her favorite chair. “Or maybe you just wanted to watch the snow fall?” Clearly, Talya didn’t expect a response as she let Terry pull himself up on her curled fingers, absently smiling at his pleased shrieks but her gaze kept turning to the windows as the heavy snowfall blanketed the city. Someone less observant would have missed the clump of white that dislodged itself from the edge of the building’s roof to fall onto the unusually hardy evergreen shrubs weaving about Min’s planters. The landing was almost silent and even straining her ears Talya couldn’t make out any footfalls against the din of the weather but it was no surprise when the door to the apartment was unlocked and opened painstakingly slowly to minimize the creak. Erik had already taken off his no-doubt snow covered greatcoat as he rounded the corner, his mask and thermal shirt bunched up in one hand. The other held a handful of snow compacted down into ice against a dark bruise spreading over his right side about halfway up his ribcage. A soft hiss of annoyance turned quickly to chagrin as he realized he wasn’t the only one still up. “Hey. Somebody being fussy?” Talya’s posture relaxed minutely at the disturbance. Her gaze swept over Erik, absently cataloguing the injury as she stood and shifted Terry to her hip, “No, just nocturnal. I suppose that’s no great surprise. Really, it's a wonder that any of them sleep at all.” Terry, for his part, looked most pleased with having successfully garnered two parents attention entirely to himself. Every so often he glanced around for his other mother but two out of three was great success all things considered. To celebrate, he greeted his father with his latest string of babbled words, the glow from his ‘bad eye’ casting odd shadows around the room. With Terry balanced on one hip, Talya reached up to gather the well stocked first aid kit from above the fridge. “Do you think you broke any ribs?” She asked as she set it down on the kitchen island. The light caught her faint smile as she added, “You’re lucky that I’m the one staying up tonight. It’s winter, after all. Or should I say, whatever miscreant that thwacked you is likely lucky that it's me. Strangled by plants is a terrible way to go.” Absently, she shook her head to free her hair from the baby’s excited flailing. ”Take Terry, and I’ll see to your ribs. You might have better luck settling him before he manages to rouse the entire house.” Erik looked suitably chastised as he took the infant in his left arm while moving his right to give Talya better access to his side. “Hey little man, staying up working on your standup routine? Getting the patter down?” He hissed through his teeth as the Englishwoman went to work, quickly giving their son a reassuring grin and bouncing him up and down. Of the three of them Erik was unfortunately better at getting the kids riled up than settled. “Ribs are fine, I think. I just…” The swordsman sighed and took on an expression of ultimate wounded pride. “I slipped on some ice and fell onto a fire hydrant under a snowbank. There were five kids trying to do some looting with the roads clogged. Wait, six!” He quickly corrected himself, gesturing dramatically with the arm holding Terry and whirling the delighted child about. “Stealing snowmobiles, which is almost clever. Scared them off without throwing a punch but once they were gone I jumped down to see if they’d damaged anything and… well…” “This is what you get for picking style over traction in your footwear,” Talya replied dryly, her blonde head bent down so she could watch her hands as she worked. Despite the scolding note in her tone, her fingers were gentle as she wrapped the bruise. Terry shrieked in glee as he was whirled about while Talya tucked in the edges of the bandage. Running her hand over it to make sure the bandages were smooth and flat, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she tucked a cold pack in to help with the bruising. “It could have been your neck.” “Ha, yeah. Now that would have been embarrassing.” Erik chuckled for a moment before catching her expression, hastily turning it into a cough. Tucking Terry into the crook between his elbow and side the swordsman covered her hand with his own. “Hey, we’ve got a couple decades before you have to worry about me breaking a hip walking down the street, cielo. Give it a day and you probably won’t even be able to see the bruise. I’d give mi hermanita a call if it was serious, yeah?” Turning about to face Talya directly he wrapped his right arm around her waist, ignoring the twinge under the bandages to pull her in close. “I could probably convinced to stay inside until the snow stops coming down, though. The fliers can handle anybody dumb enough to go out in that tonight, I’ll wait for the plow.” He offered her a lopsided grin that made maintaining a stern countenance a challenge. Mollified despite herself, Talya leaned into the proffered arm around her slim waist with only the softest of grumbles. Her nose scrunched - an expression that never would have flickered across her features in persona. The indomitable Bombshell was more prone to a haughty arched brow, after all or perhaps a composed smirk. “I highly doubt it. In a couple of decades, you’ll probably still be falling into dimensional rifts on your way to fetch milk.” Her tone was dry, bemused as she let her cheek rest against Erik’s shoulder. Reaching out for their son with those elegant hands as her smile softened, she added, “Though, you’ll probably have an entourage following you at that point. Why don’t you have Vince listen for any true emergencies and come to bed?” “Twist my arm,” he agreed with an exaggerated sigh, handing over a yawning Terry. He leaned over to give the infant a kiss on his forehead before planting another against Talya’s neck just below her ear. “Y’know, I guess they probably do get it from me,” he mused slyly as they left the living room. “I’m not really tired, either.”

"You have a practical sort of morbidity which I appreciate, Matthew," Winifred hummed thoughtfully, following the guitarist's glance toward the formal section. "And not to play the part of poor primitive but those washing machines are a marvel I don't think you lot properly appreciate. First thing first, though." She moved slowly though the racks of clothes, rubbing fabrics between her thumb and forefinger or comparing different cuts with same manner she might have held up a test tube to the light to verify its contents. "I'm not entirely familiar with all of the terminology. I know 'jeans' are the rough, blue trousers, those seem equally durable and ubiquitous. Which ones are 'slacks'?" She paused to consider a mannequin dressed in the very garment she was asking after along with a blouse that flared out past the waist.

"You're so good to me," Erik snorted as he set to work rolling up the matts from Talya's class. Judging from the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing he wasn't preparing to teach himself but judging from the only mostly cleaned drool on the shirt's shoulder he'd been keeping busy regardless. "Hey, Boots," he greeted Merlin as the monkey made his appearance. Stacking the matts against the wall he added, "New wifi password, 'stabpunch' but the A is one of those 'at' signs. No capitals." Raina's complaints earned a laugh which the fencer quickly attempted to hide under a cough. "Heh. Well, hopefully most of them will never need to win a fight, just knock somebody off balance long enough to get away. You're not wrong about the left hand, though."

"I'll take that as largely rhetorical, since a detailed inventory might work counter to the aim of your brief absence, Mathew," Winifred pointed out breezily, pressing her lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to hide a smirk. It was a little difficult to imagine him actually getting flustered given his general lack of emoting but she found herself enjoying the banter regardless. Much of the Academy's student body was so careful about what they said in front of her it was nearly as wearying as those who were outright hostile. "But yes, a great success. Any inexperience aside, I was thankfully in capable hands with Raina. She was just telling me about boys' pants."

January 13, 2017 3:45 PM Even in a city that catered to as many esoteric subcultures as Freedom there were only so many places a teenager might go to improve their skills with medieval weaponry. With the faculty of Claremont Academy in something of a restructuring period - and portions of the student body's faith in the combat training there having suffered somewhat - Cathy Clouston had suggested the next best thing to her girlfriend: a privately run dojo in the city's West End that had been introduced to her by her roommate. Said roommate had continued to receiving mentoring of her own there, albeit in the form of classes not openly available to the public at large. There were certain skills painfully absent from a young lady's usual education these days: picking locks while hanging upside down, disarming an attacker while wearing heels, disarming an attacker with a pair of heels...

Midnight impassively studied the discomfited lizard's face for what could have only been a few moments but which certainly felt longer to Leviathan. Finally the dark detective let out a flat grunt and turned on his heel toward the railing at the edge of the platform. "Let's go." Without further debate he vaulted over the side and into the empty air. By the time Leviathan could look over the railing Midnight had landed silently next to his motorcycle, parked next to one of the massive pillars holding up the track, having somehow navigated the intervening distance without injury. "That was not very convincing," a female voice opined from a speaker somewhere on the vehicle, the resounding timbre suggesting a stature not much smaller than that of the less experienced hero. "Learning," Midnight replied as he mounted the bike and set out in the direction of the FCI.

"What, for all of you?" Lou asked with surprise that bordered on wary alarm. His ex-coworkers knew perfectly well who was currently employing him without any paperwork being filed. If they wanted to push their luck and let him stew for a while that wasn't likely to ruffle any feathers so long as he was back on the street before he got a work call. This sounded like something else entirely. Between the sticky fingers and whatever computer business the other one had done he was beginning to see why somebody might be interested in putting the two women in a position where they owed a favour; stood to reason the poindexter with the fake identity was just better at playing it cool and keeping his useful talents under his hat. "Listen, none of my business but this is maybe you getting in over your heads, y'know? That doesn't sound like the kinda bill you're gonna be paying cash or credit."

Jack of all Blades / Jill O'Cure (4) Interceptors: Terrance and Emily (1) Interceptors: Echo vs Gecko (3) Midnight II (4) Freedom's Finest #5: Shadow of the Leviathan (4) Ghost Girl (2) A Dark and Spiteful God (1) Nine+ Ladies Dancing (1) Rock / Nae-Dae (1) Freedom's Finest #6: Space Rocks (1) Reagent / Alkahest (3) Transmutation (3) Lou (7) Knock on the Door Job (7) Ref Point and rollover can go to Reagent, thanks.

"I... suppose he did say that." After consulting momentarily with her battered pride Winifred decided that imposing upon Raina's suitor was comparably bearable. She was reminded that she really needed to find a way to generate income; the part-time job opportunities for teenage chemists had proven to be scarce and her resume somewhat lacking in other employable skills. She accepted the shopping bag from the witch once everything had been paid for, feeling oddly accomplished. "Following your example seems to be working out surprisingly well," she noted dryly, giving Raina about as large a grin as she'd ever demonstrated. "What do you suggest next? We should probably ensure that Matthew hasn't been adopted by another pack of roving beasts while unsupervised."

Winifred followed Raina's suggestions regarding colour selection, though her interpretation of 'mixing it up' turned out to be an equally plain navy blue, a conservative zig-zag pattern... and one of the ornamented, plum coloured affairs from the first batch, tucked between the others she was carrying as though to conceal it. "Those were not all the same size or shape," she complained as she left the fitting room with a scientist's ire toward loose application of standardized units. It wasn't the first time the Victorian had seen a credit card since arriving in the present day - she didn't have to fully grasp the technology involved to understand the function - but she frowned at the rectangle in Raina's hand all the same. "I appreciate the gesture but the Academy did provide me with a stipend, after all," she objected delicately. True, she hadn't been planning to spend quite such a portion of it on unmentionables but she'd been convinced as to the benefits. Imposing upon the strained finances the taller girl took such pains to hide from their peers was too much even for her battered pride to bear.

Winifred considered the beige bra Raina had pressed into her hands for a moment before letting out an impatient huff and steeling herself against her more delicate sensibilities. Using the store's changing room was no different from the communal showering facilities at the Academy; more private even, without a lineup of girls outside the door irritable from the early hour. With that logic firmly front of mind she quickly shed her top and the one-size-fits-none-particularly-well arrangement she'd been provided with when she arrived at the school and replaced it with the new model. It still took her the better part of a minute to convince herself that no one could possibly be watching before following her friend's advice about shaking. The timing worked out so that the appearance of the second wave of options very nearly caused the startled Victorian to jump out of her skin. "I'll take your word," she called back with a slight strain, inner voice divided between chiding herself and reciting the mental exercises she'd been practicing. She most certainly was not going to have an episode over a handful of dyed cotton. On the positive side she'd moved around enough to confirm that there was really no contest. She hadn't really realized how insufficient the bulk purchased bras she'd been dealing with had been but for the first time in months she felt that she could move her arms freely without risking a critical failure or a least considerable discomfort. "Oh. That actually is much better," she wondered aloud, bobbing experimentally up and down of the balls of her feet.

"That's often been said of me, yes." Winifred allowed herself a small smirk, crossing her arms and relaxing very slightly. "'Say what you will about that girl but at least she's proportionate.'" It wasn't as though she'd expected either Raina or the saleswoman to be outright critical but the encouragement was still appreciated, coming from someone better versed in such matters. Distracting herself from wondering what modern day surprises the clerk might be selecting while they waited she continued, "You do recall that you're most practiced in using your arts to set things aflame, Sanderson?" She gave the witch a look of mock seriousness, raising an admonishing finger. "Promise not to attempt any bodily alteration without one of us present. Voice of experience." Winifred sniffed and looked back to the mirror. "Not that it seems at all necessary but it is your body, after all."

She found Winifred fidgeting uncharacteristically, shifting from foot to foot and regarding her profile in the full length mirror. "I believe so? She gave me a sort of grade and I have a vague unease that I should like to have scored better." She didn't consider herself particularly vain nor dissatisfied with her figure on principle but there was something unnerving about being reduced to a specific measurement by a stranger. She seemed to realize what she was doing and cleared her throat quickly, turning to face Raina while smoothing out her clothes, attempting to tug the shapeless garments into a more flattering position. "Ah, still! That was more efficient than I feared. Thank you for handling the niceties." There was a long pause before she added with a balance of hesitation and resignation, "...'boob job' surgery is exactly what I think, I suppose?"

"Never seen so many clothes all at once..." Winifred muttered under her breath, absently returning Matthew's wave while she swivelled her head about. Despite the decor and lighting it seemed more like a warehouse to her than any sort of shop and she had a momentary twinge of anxiety at the thought of trying to find her way out again should she get separated from Raina. "I recognized the word 'toolkit' out of all of that and I suspect you used it specifically to... convince..." She trailed off from dryly chiding the taller girl as they reached their destination. "Oh, Lord in Heaven," the alchemist gulped, reflexively straightening her back beyond its usual prim posture as she looked around. "That is... quite a lot more undergarments all out in the open than I suppose I was expecting. Is this something for which one typically makes an appointment? Perhaps we had better come back another day." She took a half step backward toward the escalator without seeming to realize what she was doing.

With a hello for the towering woman who'd arrived Becky stepped away from Eve's side to walk over to the buffet table and take a look at what had been laid out, making a mental note to make a fuss over the dreidel-shaped sugar cookies mixed in amongst the snowmen and Christmas tree shapes. The brunette frowned slightly as what was left of the chicken Aquaria had pillaged before turning her gaze upward to the Deep One's perch. "Aquaria, is everything alright? You usually have a bigger appetite than that," she asked concernedly, frown deepening as she looked back at the fowl. "Is it too well done? I'm sure there's something rarer if we look." Eve would be in a mood all night if she found out that not everyone's dietary needs had been accounted for, she was always so protective of the building's residents. "Of course!" Kimber replied quickly, letting the handkerchief in her hand disappear while shooting Indira a thumbs-up over the cookie arrangement. She felt like a heel for leaving the Kinigosi to put out a bunch of food that was less appetizing to her than the metal trays underneath it but she'd have to apologize later. Making sure the immortal Russians were supervised seemed like the more urgent priority. "I promise I only believed a third, maybe half of those stories," she assure Klara, extending a hand up for her. "Kimber Storm. It's lovely to finally meet you in person."

While both of the facilities that had already been targeted were medical research labs they were only competitors in the loosest sense given their specialities. The first was familiar to Dr. Delacroix as the city's go-to for large scale delivery solutions, such as vaccinations. While the local research community liked to joke that they were more engineers than doctors the truth was without planning for proper transportation and storage even the most brilliant cure was nothing but theoretical. In a city where needle-proof skin and other complications were a very real consideration that was more challenging that it sounded. The second he he recognized as a leading name in allergen research, mainly the usual perennial cash cows like pollens and pet dander but always with a few higher profile, more esoteric cases that kept them in the medical journals. Leviathan recalled something about metal dust from ships shot down in the last failed Grue invasion but that had turned out to have affected all of a half dozen people with only minor symptoms. The more interesting work was working on negative reactions to other medicines but that was neither as lucrative nor as headline worthy. The last time he could think of seeing the two names together was more than a year prior when the Freedom Cross Institute had been contracted along with a handful of other labs on a government project. A toxin that targeted metahumans as well as those with the latent potential to develop superhuman abilities had nearly been released into the city's water supply and the mayor's office had wanted a vaccine ready in case of future attempts. The challenge, of course, had been coming up with something that would be effective on a wildly diverse set of physiologies; it was much easier to tear a biological system down than shore up its defences. The lion's share of that work had fallen to the FCI and progress had been steady if without any dramatic breakthroughs.

The stoney giant offered a shrug that sounded like gravel being ground underfoot. "Rooock." With lumbering movements he hunched down before sitting on the deck with a resounding impact, the vibration carrying well past John's own conical cell. Resting his blocky chin in one hand Rock extended the other, running a finger against the humming barrier. It left a trail of sparks where is passed, the discolouration lasting just long enough for the creature to three vertical lines before returning his hand to his lap. The meaning seemed clear enough: Rock had been there for three... what? Hours? Day? Longer? Considering what sort of units of measure might be relevant for a being made of boulders proved to be less than reassuring for the human teenager. Apparently sensing that the attempt at communication wasn't going as well as he might have liked, Rock spread his hands with the palms upward and asked, "Rrrrock?"

Becky smoothed her black draped skirt with the hand not resting on Eve's waist, a little self-conscious of her own sweater with its parallel rows of knitted menorahs though she was still pretty pleased with the way the pattern cycled from one to nine lights as it wrapped around her. "'It's my castle,' she says. 'We can wear whatever we want,' she says. At least we match," she sighed theatrically, pulling the shorted woman a little closer for a moment. "Ah, Aquaria you look just like the Christmas Frog, that's so good! ...I like watching the specials." Zipping through the wall near the entranceway as she cut across the corners of the hallway, Kimber appeared in a state of minor disarray. "Hi! Sorry, hi! Meant to get here sooner to help set up but, uh..." Her hair might not have been governed by the same forces as that of someone more permanently corporeal but it still managed to defy her as she hurriedly brushed it back into place with her fingers. The phantom's translucent blue faded into the opaque hues of the living, her midnight blue pants sparkling with some manner of glitter under a white, billowing blouse stitched with a subtle snowflake pattern. "You found all the cookies in the freezer?" she asked Indira as her feet touched the floor without any real weight. "And the trays in the cupboard?" Nearby Becky caught the poltergeist's eye and pointed to her own neck, eyebrows raised. Kimber hastily manifested a handkerchief and wiped the smudge of black lipstick from just above her clavicle, a little tint of azure returning to her cheeks.

John find himself currently in human form, wearing whatever pyjamas or other sleepwear you'd like. The force field tingles a bit to the touch but otherwise acts like a solid barrier. Naturally being abducted by aliens warrants a Hero Point! He'll be needing that later.

The first thing John Blake was aware of as he awoke was that he was most certainly not in his bed. The metal floor below him was cold and unyielding while the harsh blue light and background buzz of electricity surrounding him wasn't doing anything to relieve his pounding headache. The sight that greeted him as he forced open his eyes wasn't any more comforting. The teenager found himself sitting at the base of a cone of crackling blue energy the projected down from above him, trapping him in a circle of space no more than seven or eight feet across. The room outside his unorthodox cell was dark and details were difficult to make out but he could see that his cone was one of many in a long row stretching out into the distance. The wall behind him curved slightly, giving him the impression of a hull, which would have explained the faint vibration he felt through the drool-damp cheek resting against the deck plating. Getting to his feet John discovered that he was still in the sleep clothes he'd put on the night before and that he was not alone. Standing in the cone to his left was a pile of stones in the rough shape of a humanoid figure, rough edges fitted tougher to form thick limbs and hulking shoulders topped by a squat, lantern-jawed head. For a moment the human mistook it for a statue until it turned its gaze upon him, two wells of burning red where eyes might have been. After a moment the creature raised a hand in affable greeting and said, "Rock."

"Identified from security footage," Midnight explained with a small shake of his head, raising one forearm. A red-tinted projection of grainy footage popped into the air between them, flipped around to face Leviathan by a gesture from the detective. An overlay picked out the faces of the men who could be seen planting the bomb and provided names along with a scrolling list of past convictions. "Hired muscle, one electrician with gambling debts. Unlikely to know full plan, hence tailing." The dispassionate way in which he laid out the information brought to mind a university lecturer. The projection changed to a short list of scientific research facilities in the city including the Freedom Cross Institute. Two of them were already highlighted, the sites of the explosives with which Midnight had already dealt. "Motivation unknown. Need to reach other labs, either locate additional bombs or expert who can detect pattern in targets." If each of the facilities being targeted were working on parts of a larger project or had received funding from the same source, if they had some connection they might be able to discern the culprit behind the attack and predict their next move but two data point weren't much to work with without an insider's insight.

Ellie accepted the mug with a little sound of gratitude from the back of her throat that turned into a snort in Min's direction. "Look at Mrs. Winter Grump with the lewd jokes," she drawled over the lip of her coffee, hiding a little smile. It was good to see her sister-in-law in noticeably better spirits, even if she put down most of the recent grimness to the season and the lack of sleep that presumably came with having four young children about. "Tell you what, we'll keep diligently trying and let you know how that goes. I for one am willing to put in as much practice as necessary." Downstairs Erik conceded Talya's point about unsporting fights with a thoughtful grunt, unknowingly mimicking his sister in the other room. Cupping a hand to his mouth he called to the sparring partners, "You can banter when you're winning, Kenzie. And I'm pretty sure you're the same age? Escher, you got a birthday coming up? That sounds right. Also: duck!"

"It's about respect," Lou repeated as though that provided an airtight rebuttal to both Xavier's pleas for caution and Sofía's rationale. It had the cadence of a phrase oft-repeated, suggesting that 'it's about respect' encompassed a considerable share of the ex-cop's day-to-day decision making process. Since he clearly wasn't asking for the taller man's permission and wasn't invested enough to press the issue with the computer expert he instead took up a position leaning against the wall nearby Alice with his arms crossed. After a pause he tilted his head toward her without looking and in a lowered voice that was gruff even by the standard he'd set in their brief acquaintance, "I'll get you their names." No one had ever accused Lou of being a peaceful man but striking an unarmed young woman from behind didn't sit well even with him. It was probably about respect.

"It isn't as though you haven't seen considerably more of me than I might have volunteered," Winifred pointed out to Raina, though her hushed tone and the faint colour in her cheeks belied the clinical detachment she was trying to affect. The idea of the fitting itself seemed survivable, even welcome in a world where tailoring had become the exception rather than the rule. Discussing such things openly and in mixed company was a bit much, however. Recalling some of the outfits she'd seen her classmates wear she wondered with a sinking heart what qualified as 'classic' to the witch. With a prim cough she added, "Your discretion is appreciated however, Matthew. I don't think we'll be bothering with creams and powders at all, even if they've moved away from some of the more poisonous ingredients. One of the more pleasant surprises of this time was no one at the Academy asking why I didn't simply slather enough on to appear passably pale." Her tone was dry without being too bitter and she made a point of giving Raina a game smile to let her know that she appreciated the thought and earnest assurances.