Raveled
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Durf, would it take Miras a single move action or a full action to get to the front car (the one with the controls) with her Flight?
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"Dude, yeah, okay. I've just got to get the marks right, okay? So I can get the part." The hippie dropped his jacket and sat backwards on a chair, leaning his chest against the back so his lacerated skin was exposed. "If I don't get the part I'm just gonna... Go crazy, you know dude?" He held up one hand to his forehead and moved his fingers apart in an explosive fashion. "Just, like, total brain overload." Asli edged around Ray and the mutilated man, keeping as far away as she could and still snag the jacket. She handled it with two fingers, laying the bloody garment on the counter and digging out the book. It was the size of a trade paperback, with a cover of brown wrapping paper that had been laminated in many layers of packing tape. The title was written on the front in looping, elegant calligraphy. "Camilla, the King, and I," she read aloud. "Or, my Summer Adventures in Lost Carcosa." She opened it at random and swept her eyes down the page quickly. "It's... a play?"
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Asli swallowed hard, leaning against the counter and trying to breath regularly. Her hand holding the receiver was still shaking, but she managed to take in what the dispatcher. She nodded at Sam's question and set the phone down as gently as she could. "I'll be fine," she said. "It just... It got really close in here all of a sudden, you know?" She shot a hard look at Ray, guessing that he was the source of whatever power she was feeling. "I'll be fine once I get my head straight." For his part, the hippie was calming down now that no one was threatening to grab him. "Cool dude-thing, yeah. I just need some help." He tried to slip out of his jacket and ended up peeling it off, the blood trying to stick it to his back. The skin on his back had been thoroughly lacerated, many fine lines scoring his back. They faded and got more ragged past his shoulder blades. "I can't get the middle of my back. I gotta get it right, you know? Like in the book." He held up the coat, and now it was obvious there was something trying to weigh down one of the pockets.
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The man didn't react much when Sam started talking to him, but Ray's touch caused him to start freaking out. He flailed and screamed and shouted, waving his arms and splattering blood in thin arcs. Asli took a step back and started considering what spells she could use surreptitiously, and then a wave of power crested over her. It left her feeling scared and tiny and weak and humbled. She shook her head and stumbled towards the phone, grabbing the receiver and punching 9-1-1. The operator connected and she started babbling, her other hand grabbing hard at the counter. Her knees were wobbling; her knuckles were white; she felt like she was going to throw up or start crying or just faint. The hippie was backing away from Ray and Sam, protesting weakly. "You can't mess with my jacket. You'll mess up all the patterns! Can I just sit down and show you the patterns, dude?"
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Notice checks from everybody, please. Hitting a 15 will let you realize that the hippie's bleeding pretty badly under his jacket. Asli can hit 22 with her Skill Mastery, so.
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"He's done using," Asli said, a note of hard determination in her voice. "In February he'll have been clean for a solid year. That's what he wants a tattoo for." She paused and considered what she did know. "I can't say what he wants a tattoo of, though. Maybe the NA symbol or service badge -- but you'll have to talk to Larry about that. Listen, do you have a card or something? Maybe I should just get him one of those credit card-gift card things and some estimates, let him pick his own shop." The flower child had circulated through the shop, ending up in front of the counter. "Hey, needle-angel," he said. "Can I, like, get some service?" He looked sideways and Asli and giggled. "Don't let her sell you on her smoke and mirrors." His laughter steadily intensified until he was holding his stomach and fighting to keep upright. "She's gonna, like, blow away like smoke, man!"
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Asli followed behind Sam, letting the door closed behind her. Before she could take the first step up the staircase someone started knocking at the door. Well, knocking -- it sounded a bit angrier than that. She rolled her eyes and turned, balancing the simit on top of the salad. "I'll get the door," she called up. She opened the door and found herself staring straight at Joe. She felt a lot of things all at once -- happy that he had come, a tightness in her chest, butterflies in her stomach, and embarrassment that someone could make her feel that way when she was in her thirties. She swallowed and stepped back, giving him room to walk in. "Hi there," she said. "I'm glad you came. Um, we're eating on the top floor, so... yeah." She made her way up the stairs in front of Joe. Sam's comment made her consider. "You know, I don't think i've ever had the traditional Black Friday turkey sandwich."
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Asli wasn't sure about Sam's idea for a big Thanksgiving dinner. Asli had been planning something more like turkey sandwiches and a big salad; but now her roommate had cooked stuffing and bought a pie and was talking about a meal with more than two people. At the same time, Sam was so excited about having a big, traditional meal that Asli didn't want to speak up about it; she knew how much it hurt to go from a loving family to nothing, and she could only imagine with the other woman had missed while living on the streets. If Sam wanted to have a big, complicated dinner, Asli wasn't going to be the one to rain on her parade. She wasn't going in there alone, though. After clearing the idea with Sam she had dropped a line to Joe. She wasn't sure if they were at a 'spend holidays together' point in their relationship, but he had agreed to come. She had suggested he pick up some wine for the occasion. She had baked several rings of simit and had done some shopping the week before, picking up marmalade and raspberry jam and cinnamon-apple jelly. Sam had assured her that their host was taking care of the things that required a big oven, so Asli felt comfortable just bringing the dessert.
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You could jump and then Delay your action until someone attacks.
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SMELL'D BY HGM Miras Picking up Well-Informed for Miras. [-1PP] Expanding on her Super-Senses, giving her Olfactory Detect Magic. [-3PP]
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Interposed by HGM Corona Spending 1 PP on Corona to pick up Interpose. Should leave her at 0PP.
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"Right, but are you going to do that while you're working in a shop?" Asli stopped and held up her hands in a mollifying gesture. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. But if you figure out what you want your life to be about, why spend your life not doing that thing?" She leaned back as the server returned, watched the plates of food be passed around the table. Wafts of steam hung over the table, carrying delicious smells up to their faces. Asli swallowed to keep from salivating; she cooked for herself plenty, but she was always more concerned with cost than taste. This, though, was baked with fatty cheese and butter and salt and a thousand others things that were bad for her and she wanted to pick it up and devour it whole. She had enough self control to tuck in her napkin, however, and start cutting the noodles and chicken into more manageable bites. "There's conservatives and moderates and liberals," she said. "You just have to know where to look. I usually go to a mosque in Riverside, the Hawwa temple. We pray, and then we talk about the news. The cleric organizes regular trips to soup kitchens and the like." She speared a bit of chicken and popped it in her mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing. "It's nice. Sometimes they're a bit too hippy-dippy, though, like to condemn things and talk about protests and not do anything at the last minute."
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Durf, who has ahold of the girl from the beginning? Or did they already bug out?
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Asli felt her heart sink. She resisted the instinct to reach into her pocket and finger the handful of bills she'd brought along. She had less than a hundred bucks, and this was gong to run to at least two hundred; she didn't much feel like getting laughed out of the shop, but she also didn't want to try to comb though the city for another reputable-looking tattoo shop. Even then it would probably be just as much as this one... She was shaken out of her negative train of thought when the door opened and a new customer walked in. This one was dressed like something out of the Seventies, with a tattered leather vest and bell bottom jeans and white trainers. He even has the long, unkempt hair of a flower child. He stopped and stared at Asli and Ray and Sam, giggling to himself. "Hey there, lady things and dude thing." He started drifting around the store, looking at the art on display. Asli took a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out. "My friend has a history has a history with needles. The, uh, bad kind of history. Is that going to be a problem? The Internet says that tattoos hurt more on fat than they do on muscles, but I don't know what they do to collapsed veins."
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Miras stood up halfway and, alarmingly, found that she couldn't really stand up any farther. The train swayed under her alarmingly, the wind blew at her harder than any storm she'd known in the city, and she just couldn't stand up any farther. The mage tucked her head into her arm and muttered in Latin; the world went sepia-toned and slow, and Miras could suddenly walk forward. She did have to lean into the wind, like she was pushing through an indifferent, obstinate mob, but at least she didn't feel like she was about to all off the train or be blown into a building. She made her way down the train, eyeing the soldiers who hung in the air or were paused mid-punch. She held out her arms, fire gathering in either hand. The one hanging in the air was an easy target; she eyed him up and lobbed the fireball. An inch from her hand it froze like the rest of the world, and she turned her attention somewhere else. Below her, through the plastic sunroof of the train, she could see a man in a grey suit and gas mask -- military uniform? But it didn't look like camouflage -- engaged with another armored thug. She pointed down and loosed another handful of magic fire. She left it behind and headed further up the train.
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Ho-kay, so. Planning this out a little more thoroughly than I usually do because I want to be precise. Because Miras isn't. Free Action: Switch Ruh Kalit array to Flinging the Fires. Move Action: Run up the trains as far as possible. Standard Action: Using Split Attack to throw one attack at Backup 4, one attack at Backup. If they're Minions I'll take 10 on the attack and end up with 20 and 16, respectively. Otherwise I'll roll. Since it's a Rank 10 effect cut in half, it'll be a DC 20 Toughness save from both of them. Ranged Attack Check: 1d20+10 25 Ranged Attack Check into melee: 1d20+6 7
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Miras can stay on the roof of the car and hit Backup 5? Would she risk hitting Gauss with that move? Also, can we retroactively say that she switched her Ruh Kalit array to Blast at the end of last turn, when she turned off her Insubstantial?
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Okay, to clarify positions, I thought that last round Miras had flown and caught up with the trains, and I posted her landing on the rearmost car. My plan this round was to switch to her Speed (significantly faster than her Flight), zip up and toss fireballs at a couple of the Backup that are still in the air. Is that still a viable tactic?
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Aya was dressed in her armor but had the helmet back, letting the wind blow through her air. She looked around the landing pad, sizing up the delegation and the maintenance workers, trying to see dangers and threats before they pounced. At the same time she didn't want to look too obvious about it, but undercover work was ever her strong point. She stepped to the right of Paradigm as they reached the tarmac and put her hands behind her back; she didn't want them to be too bunched up if an attack was coming.`
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Asli found herself watching the big man with the tattoos intensely. Okay, maybe staring at him -- at least she wasn't drooling. She forced herself to look away from him, to examine the artwork hung around the store. The needlework really was impressive. It wasn't all Chinese letters or hearts, either -- Asli was drawn to an entire wall of repeating geometric shapes, interlocking triangles that formed squares that formed spirals that formed more complex shapes... It made her eyes hurt if she went too far, and she wondered who had enough bare skin to work a design like that. But it was certainly eye-catching. "I'm looking to get a gift card," she said. "For a friend of mine. He's decided he's going to get a tattoo in the new year. Do you have costs based on size, or what?"
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Rolls and suchlike for this thread. Go wild with those Perform checks, Renegade!
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Freedom City, Riverside Saturday, November 14, 2015 Noontime Asli Saddik didn’t know how people who drove through the city knew anything. On the train or the bus all the buildings and storefronts were a blur; it’s only when she walked through the neighborhood that she could look into the windows and walk through the store, touch and smell things, talk to the shopkeepers and the other pedestrians. Someone else might choose a store based on the name or a Facebook review, but Asli knew she needed to get down there and peel back the mask. She wasn’t just browsing, though. Today Asli was looking for a very specific gift and she wasn’t at all certain in her judgement regarding it. That’s why she had dragged her roommate along on this walk; Sam could walk her into the ground, after all, and two eyes looking for a tattoo were better than one. They had already passed a few tattoo parlors, but one had been shuttered and skeevy-looking, another one had been manned by stoners who seemed to mostly be working on each other, one had ran her out when she asked for samples… it wasn’t a promising experience. Still, Asli insisted that they press on, check out “a couple more places, Sam. There’s got to be a good one in the city, and damn if I’m going to miss it.” The woman’s eyes were drawn towards a shop that claimed itself to be “IMMORTAL TATTOOS” in all capital letters. The building was clean and there weren’t any bars on the windows. The front was filled with large boards, showing photographs of happy, inked customers and drawn designs. All of the samples were clear and well-done, and the variety on display was staggering. There were so many on display, in fact, that she couldn’t see past them, and Asli found herself seriously tempted. She turned to Sam, gesturing to the window display. “What do you think? Do the look any good?”
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With the frozen soldier safely on the ground and hopeful soon in the hands of Freedom's finest, Miras rocketed back into the air again and sped down the street as fast as she could, racing towards the train. She could see it intermittently through the buildings, could see the armored figures still flying above it. Everything was too far away, though, with too many buildings breaking her line of sight, for Miras to risk a fireball, so the magus just poured on the speed. Eventually, robes flapping madly behind her, she managed to land on the last car of the elevated train. The big woman half-rose, the wind threatening to blow her off even as she gathered her power around herself. One last sprint, then she would be in position to end it.
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I'm putting Corona out there because she's a Lor agent, but I don't think she's very well-suited towards espionage.
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Can Miras get close enough with a full move to land on the train?