Fox
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Kimber's mood and enthusiasm were infectious, and Indra found herself oddly drawn to the idea of the human custom of 'slumber party'. She bobbed her head a little and tried to think up answers - and translate answers - for questions the ghost had either posed or would probably pose. "It is partly diet," she admitted, looking down at one arm and stretching it out a bit. Literally. "I do not eat for sustenance, but if I am hurt or wish to be bigger I have to eat metal. Some are better than others - some taste better than others, too. It is best to have a good mix, but there is some fashion there. When I left I think copper was getting popular again...I prefer steel, and titanium, though I understand that titanium is expensive. Platinum, too." She glanced up, blinking. "One day I think I would like to try...I think it is called 'impervium'? It sounds wonderful."
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Sounds about right, yeah.
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It was 10:45 when the window to room 404 opened just a crack to let Indira's silvery form slip through, collecting on the side of the building into a low-slung form whose dulled body and not-quite-smooth outline made it a little hard to track as it scurried down the side of the dorm and across the lawn toward the zen garden, belly so low to the ground that it brushed the grass as she silently slid and scuttled toward the rendezvous point.
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Stealth Roll (1d20 + 15=26) Wraith is shapeshifting the extra +5 Stealth there, dropping the leaping from her hunter setting for some skill points. I'd go higher, but it might smell of cheese, especially in a low-drama moment.
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"Hmm. Sort of," Indira agreed, rather amused. At some point she'd shifted herself around into being vaguely more humanoid; rather than keep her head turned around to look at Kimber she'd opted to reverse all her 'joints' so that she was now sitting backwards on the chair. "Perhaps it will take some practice." "A sleepover?" Her three eyes blinked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "I...do not think I know what is done in a sleepover; it is a human custom? I hope it is not a literal one - unconsciousness is...very disturbing." She shivered a little bit, the ripple travelling all the way down to her feet. In as much as they were feet. "I think I can remember beauty tips, however."
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"Hmmm." This, at least, was interesting - certainly more interesting than her textbook. Indira pulled her head up off the desk and snaked it out, circling Kimber a little to get a better look. "Not bad. The color is unusual, but it isn't unheard of. The voice is not quite right, however - we can talk without the 'hum' but it takes a great deal of practice." She didn't say it, but it was...kind of nice to see something familiar, even if it seemed a little off in the details. She hummed to herself for a moment before pulling her head back. "That is a very good talent - I think you would fool even some Kinigosi. And...do not worry about people looking weird to me. I am mostly used to it, if I do not think about it too much. I only meant that I understand your frustration, after a fashion: you are frustrated because you cannot look like a normal human much of the time, and I am frustrated that I must."
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Indira raised her eyebrows, eyes going black for a moment between blinks. They didn't have pupils, of course (or anything at all to break up the void-like surface) but from the small motions of her head she was apparently glancing around for a moment. "Most things, I think, are more interesting than homework and books. A chance to...stretch my legs may not be so bad, though I would prefer that we were very careful. I do not think my parents would be pleased if they heard that I was sneaking out at night."
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Indira made the odd little humming noise that usually meant she was thinking about something. "I know - in India it was easier to sneak away and go running, or spy on people who were out at night from rooftops. If I was careful I could be me and not be noticed, and perhaps feel less....what is the phrase? 'Cooped up' in a human body? I do not think I know what 'cooping' is." She hummed again, tilting her head - still a little deformed and resting against her desk - to look over at Kimber. "There is irony there, I think - that you are sorry you cannot be out looking 'normal' at night, and I am sorry I cannot be out looking anormal. No - 'abnormal'? Still. It is...grimly amusing."
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"Mathematics," Indira replied, with the flat tone of someone who didn't really enjoy mathematics. She turned her head to look at him, if only as far as a human neck would allow a human head to turn (if, indeed, that human neck had a spine running through it, which hers, despite appearances, did not). Not that it mattered too much on a campus like this one, but it was good practice, and it was less distracting to some of the students to have a slightly odd Indian girl in their class, as opposed to a very odd metal monster in their class. "Though I do have a short break between classes - did you need something?"
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A little belated: Notice Check, DC20 (1d20 + 5=7) Nnnope.
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"Ugh. I knooow," Indira commiserated, letting her head fall down to splat against the desk. She grew an extra pair of arms just to gesture in helpless frustration. "Everything just...stops at night. I understand that humans go unconscious for hours when it gets dark, but it is...there is nothing to do! We cannot make noise, we cannot - or, perhaps, we should not - break...what was it, 'curfew'? If it is going to be like this until we graduate, I think I am going to go insane."
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Indira was, in theory, reading a textbook on...on...something. Math? Math, right, that was it. In practice she'd been staring at the page, letters and numbers kind of shifting out of focus as she contemplated why anybody would base their math system around units of ten. The young alien generally tried to stay human - or human-ish - during the day but at night so few people were up and around she'd taken to relaxing a bit, dropping the human pretense and not worrying about looking like her physiology was ruled by rigid calcium deposits and meat. When Kimber spoke up she was glad to have an excuse to put the book aside, turning her head all the way around to look up at her equally inhuman roommate. "I...do not know," she admitted, in her mouthless humming way. "It would be interesting for a while, at least. We might have to worry about the smell of the paint."
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[bg=#555555]"Agreed,"[/bg] Dragonfly nodded, tapping a finger against her leg. Tap tap tap. [bg=#555555]"On strict and unknown deadline, but not strict and unknown enough to risk life unnecessarily. Unlikely to find single power source up to planet-wide focused EMPs, but should be able to make use of multiple sources without great trouble...just an organizational problem. Call in favors with people who can call in favors. Redirect power plant outputs, draw on metahumans with energy-generating powers, 'advanced' societies, personal inventions, anything. Put super-fast metahumans in hamster wheels if we have to. Can be done without killing anybody."[/bg]
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"Wouldn't be showing power of my wares, then," Mara pointed out, frowning. "Would, at best, be showing power of building defenses, which are not for sale. Am sure that eventually somebody will try something that will cause fight in the streets. But not going to engineer that happening. Too risky - more civilians there, greater chance for uncontrolled property damage, and outside the range of main building defenses." She shrugged, shaking her head. "Not going to forbid you from fighting in public, obviously. Have to stop threats. And shows of power discouraging possible threats is beneficial, but only if done right - too many other variables, especially outside hero work. Would prefer shows of power that occur naturally, against threats that require them. Don't mind overkill against robots, zombies....but don't want to cause extra harm to people, even stupid, criminal people, to make a point. Tempting, not without merit, but distasteful."
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On the one hand, the villains' interruption of the parade meant an interruption to the parade, which Indira had been quite enjoying; on the other hand, a fight was always exciting. Besides, a panicking crowd wasn't too bad a place to change shapes - all you had to do was wait until everybody was too distracted to remember exactly who had turned into the metal monster in their midst. So turn she did, when people seemed to have hit the peak of their confusion: hair and clothes melted away as her features closed up and smoothed out into a familiar, three-eyed head. Her legs, now more smooth and abstract, twisted up on themselves, gaining an extra joint and a lot of bulk as she hunched down and then hurled up into the air over the crowd and straight at Medea. Unfortunately, crouching down meant she'd missed Medea staggering back into the trees before it was a little too late; by the time Wraith landed, the maces her hands had become mid-flight hit nothing but the float, plasterboard crunching under the impact.
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Alrighty. Move Action: Shapeshift: Leaping 2 (x5; 75ft running long jump, 37.5ft standing long jump, 18.75ft standing high jump) [2pp] Speed 1 (10mph / 100 feet per Move Action) [1pp] Strike 5 (Feats: Improved Critical [19-20], Mighty) [7pp] Move Action: Boing! Going over the crowd is easier than going through it.... SURGE: Standard action: Melee Attack Roll vs. Medea (1d20 + 10=15) Hm. That's not going to hit. Ah well. HP to waive the surge fatigue. Wraith will be interposing for Ghost Girl, on the conditions that she's within interposing range (~100 feet) and being attacked with something (that appears to be, anyway) capable of actually hurting her.
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"I. Do not. Sell weapons," Mara said, very carefully, and surprisingly fiercely. "This business will not sell weapons, build weapons, improve on weapons, and any client suspected of trying to trick us into building or improving weaponry will have provided materials reclaimed and their contract voided without compensation. Period." She frowned, tapping a finger on the desk. "Minimum violence...should specify 'to people'. Machines, drones, can be as violent as you want, but try to minimize collateral damage. People should be stopped efficiently. Hurt them if you have to, don't put yourself or other people at risk trying to use...phrase...'kid gloves', but don't cause extra harm to make a statement."
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"Yes, uniforms, though designs aren't final. Admit that your...armor deployment method may cause problems there, but will just have to replace the uniform if it tears. Do not intend to charge you for tools necessary to do your job. Threats....no. Yes. Mmh." She rubbed her temples, frowning. was important to Erin - annoying - probably necessary? - hate talking about this "General threats cause concern, because we will have a lot of private technology and design from many companies under one roof. Criminals - normal and not - will want to exploit that. Have to... dissuade them, but with minimum violence. Only specific threat right now would not act directly - would hire others. Makes any one danger hard to predict or protect against. Unlikely to act soon, but should be on guard for suspicious activity anyway."
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It took Mara a moment to reply as her under-developed sense of optimism wrestled with her over-developed sense of pessimism. She didn't really have an argument that wouldn't make herself feel awfully hypocritical anyway, so she gave up. will have to think about that "Fair enough. Know you're capable, worth having somebody physically intimidating on security, and come at the recommendation of head of security. Works for me." She paused, and frowned; apparently the pun had been accidental. "Pay will be fair, hours reasonable. Exact hours depending on you and Erin - Erin's head of security. I trust her to make sure building's covered enough during whole day. Work starts on the first of November, depending on your shift. Can offer you an advance if you need it to get a place to live. My ground rules are no killing, no permanent physical harm that can be avoided, try not to scare employees, no releasing Terminus energy near labs or workstations unless you have no other choice. Doesn't always interact well with delicate experiments."
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That gave Mara some pause, blinking at Murdock for a second while her brain processed. good answer "Minor correction - won't be inventing, here, exactly. Business will be improving the inventions of others. I don't sell my work, with few exceptions. The rest...I understand that." She frowned, putting the screwdriver down and tapping the table's surface a bit. "Would have to be able to follow orders. Probably more head of security's than mine, but mine too, sometimes. And note that you could probably serve humanity better with more hero work. Why here, why mostly mundane security?"
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troll - 'bout how far from Medea would you say Wraith is?
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"Agreed - concern is not ends, but means. People are idiots. Idiots do stupid things. Stupid things don't need to be met with more than necessary force. Admit there's satisfaction in making cocky criminals urinate themselves, but has to be weighed against personal reputation and outside opinion. Criminals being scared of you is fine. Potential allies thinking you're uncontrolled and dangerous is not. Especially when that can reflect back on other people. Still. Imagine you'd adjust. Head of security could watch you, if you needed it. Couldn't hurt. Usually have to watch new employees anyway." Mara sat back a bit, tilting her head and looking Murdock up and down. "Why do you want this job?"
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flashy - intimidating - but dangerous "Tactical concern," she noted, pointing at him with a screwdriver. "Very likely effective, but dependent on you either looking like a drone, or terrorizing idiots in disguises. Former likely to cause you more problems than it solves...probably don't have to tell you that. Latter is only questionably effective. Overkill, too. Suppose intimidation is part of the job, but have to try to not scare clients and other employees away." "Mara, by the way," she offered, gesturing vaguely with the screwdriver. "I am, I mean. Don't think we were formally introduced. When I wasn't in my armor, anyway."
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"Good." Mara was sitting at...well, she didn't really have a desk yet; her office hadn't really taken priority in these things. Instead she'd wheeeled a stainless steel work bench up to her office, and was sitting in a folding chair tinkering with a much, much smaller version of the door guard downstairs. She didn't glance up when the elevator in the hallway dinged, opening its doors to allow Murdock out and into the hallway that contained only three doors, two of which were closed. "How?" she asked, loud enough to be heard, reaching into the little robot's body with a pair of needle-nose pliers. She was wearing a button-up shirt and a pair of slacks, though her sleeves were rolled up and her jacket had been tossed on a chair in the corner. "'Convince them of their mistake', I mean."
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The elevator control panel was apparently unfinished, with a flat piece of plastic covering where the buttons would soon be...in fact, the actual metal panel, complete with buttons, was lying not a foot away on the floor of the elevator itself, uninstalled. Not that it mattered. By the time Murdock could get inside the elevator to see the inoperative panel the doors closed behind him, elevator coming to life and heading upwards. No tinny music here, though: no, this elevator had a voice come in over its speakers, clear but distracted. "Team of Omega Drones assault building without warning during business hours and begin stealing equipment - ours and clients'," came the female voice. "What do you do? Have until the elevator reaches the top floor to decide and explain."
