Fox

Mara ran pretty quickly through surprise, concern, embarrassment, and anger - each painted on her face in turn when she found out the little twerp had been spying on her. And possibly on Ellie, by extension. She made a frustration motion with her hands, but apparently decided that it was done and nothing good would come out of yelling at a kid with cosmic powers...still, she looked an awful lot like she wanted to strangle him until his blonde-haired head popped off. "....fffine," she growled, through her teeth, before taking a deep breath and trying again. "Fine. Coin? More random. Both too quick-thinking and observant to make roshambo as fair as it's supposed to be."

"Mmh," Mara agreed, frowning and tapping a finger against her leg. It was awfully hard to not reach for the metal choker that rested at the base of her neck, but something told her that wouldn't be wise - the name and the mention of putting out fires with the Great Bay sounded...awfully familiar, and he certainly had some significant level of power to do what he'd done already. fine - for now "...okay. Have our attention. But games have rules - can't play if we don't know what we're playing. Or how. Limits, conditions, prizes, penalties. Game manual. Tutorial. Something."

Mara raised an eyebrow, watching the figure float up into the air. "Is...interesting," she carefully replied - and not so carefully added, "but 'cool' would imply enjoyment. Have words for being kidnapped off my couch and sent to a black void, but have been trying to cut down on my swearing. Isn't polite." She tilted her head, glancing around again. avatar? - hologram - in-person - curious abilities regardless - mmh - more information "Obvious questions: who are you? Where, how, are we? 'Ultimate challenge'?"

"....what?" Mara blinked at the giant head, more in bewilderment than fear. She'd never been very good at the 'fear' thing. "....definitely not one of mine," she confirmed, turning her head a bit toward Jessica, but without taking her eyes off the...face. projection? - illusion hallucination reflection hologram mental influence - data - torches? - very strange "My voids are usually...voids, and not full of giant heads. Or torches. Don't recognize this - but mildly cautious about 'ultimate challenge' that takes us out of our homes by force. Curious, though."

Notice Check (1d20 + 15=22)

Mara raised an eyebrow as she listened to Thrude...talk? not even talking - announcing? - narrating - very dramatic - probably not good for blending in - try not to think too hard about the towel comment "Probably best to not reference 'Midgard'. To try blending in, I mean. Not a common term." Really, the engineer wasn't sure what to think about a girls' day out clothes-shopping. Part of her would much rather be digging through scrapyards for metal and vacuum tubes, but there was some little piece of her buried way deep down that was kind of looking forward to adding to her admittedly small wardrobe. Like most things that made her feel like she was a teenage girl (or, at least, what she figured a teenage girl must feel like), it left her ambivalent and frowning.

Gaian Knight trailed after Changeling, following her as much by the feel of her footsteps on the floor as by sight to keep from losing his way in the rows of stacks. On the one hand, he didn't want her to feel like he had no faith in her ability to protect herself; on the other, he really, really didn't think it was a good idea for anyone to be wandering off on their own in a library full of strange happenings, much less a young woman. Leaving her just wouldn't be...gentlemanly. Besides, it gave him a chance to admire the building. He spread his senses out as he walked, the terramantic equivalent of running his fingers over the surface of the building as he passed. He enjoyed big stone structures, and each and every one was just a little bit differently. The library's granite was...proud, somehow, and warm. Wise, maybe. It seems fitting for a library this size, really. Ah, the things you must have seen, the knowledge that's passed through your halls...

Mara'd gotten to her feet, frowning, and was looking around for any sign of...anything. She wasn't coming up with much. "No," she answered, tapping a finger against her leg. "Just a...void. As far as I can tell. Would almost suspect it was my own pocket technology if it wasn't black...mmh. Tangent. Am concerned about how we got here, too. Don't know what you keep in your office, but I don't have technology in my loft that could do this. Storage, maybe, warehouse floor, yes, but not up in the living space. Sudden transportation after clicking an icon on an otherwise normal computer is...troubling."

"Mmh," Dragonfly replied, keeping her voice low and leaning into Jill for a moment. "Am okay. I'm...learning. Hadn't been to the beach before." She blinked, and shook her head, hair falling down into her face a bit. "Have been to the beach, I mean," she corrected. "But haven't been to the beach...? Mmmhh. Words. A new experience. People, party, swimsuits. Sort of uncomfortable but have met everyone before, so not too bad. Besides -" - she paused for a moment to grab a couple fleeing drops from her creamsicle before she lost them to the sand - "- worth it to see you in a bikini. Beautiful."

Gaian Knight glanced from Changeling to the message to Equinox to the book and back again, and sighed. He started to say something before getting distracted by the pounding again; the books got a quick frown and the sort of short, no-nonsense response you'd give a small child. "Stop that." Children, of course, weren't generally trying to beat a hole through a wall or damaging library property, so the order was accompanied by a gesture. A few small rocks left the pockets of his coat to join a small army of rocks and dirt that were politely shifting around the feet of the people assembled, coming in through any available window or door or vent to gather together in a set of heavy, seamless bookcase....cases. The trouble-bearing iron shelves - and the individual books that had escaped from them, bar Equinox's captive - were held in place by a cover of thick stone that would - hopefully - hold them. At least for now. "I'll, ah, remove that later," he told Melinda, already backing away to follow after Changeling. "I promise. It won't get your books dirty or anything, I just didn't want them damaging something." Or somebody.

"The McDonald's....?" Mara raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the microphone. "No. Shouldn't. Don't recognize it from the description; fairly certain I haven't seen it before on my......what." There's something about being asked a question that should be obvious that keeps you from not poking around; she was certain she had nothing like that on her desktop, but as she talked she'd been poking around and there it was, in all its double-arched glory, taunting her from one corner of her screen. "....what. It's- that- what" She was incensed - invaded, even. someone put a virus or deliberately modified my computer - my private computers - going to find this person and teach them about personal space - with science - who would even-- Casual inspection didn't really offer her anything it hadn't offered Jessica, not that she'd expected it to. So she did the next best thing: a quick mental command ordered her central computer offline, unpowered and physically disconnected from the network. "Glad my gaming computer is not part of the rest of the system," she mused aloud, so Jessica could hear. "Going to figure out what this does. And then find its source. And then fry every computer within two blocks of the source." She double-clicked the icon.

Frowning, Mara tilted her head. "No." not sure whether to be insulted that she thinks I have a virus - or that if I sent her a virus she'd find it that easily? - mmh - doesn't matter - curious She leaned forward, crossing her legs under herself as she regarded her screen like she thought she could peer through it into Jessica's computer. Which, she admitted, she probably could if she wanted, but it was best not to go invading a computer that might have something wrong with it. "Define 'something weird'?"

Mara stretched, leaning back on her couch and grabbing her wireless keyboard off the cushion next to her. "Here," she replied. "And of- ...mmh." She frowned at the microphone on the table in front of her, and bopped the power button with the heel of one foot. "Here. And of course. Long day - looking forward to relaxing a little. Games, fun, junk food. Decent challenge." Somewhere from the main floor of her warehouse there was a thumping sound and a few beeps and whistles; she snorted, fondly. "Puppy says 'hello'. So - thoughts on the game?"

Honestly, it comes down to the founding characters and their players; I can't speak for any of the others, but for me it's more about Dragonfly's opinion and Dragonfly would probably have to research Blueshift and ask around with people she knows who've been in contact with her, to see what their impressions were. Off-panel, of course, 'cos that's not really worth a thread. I'll poke around at Blueshift's old threads (and see what information Dragonfly could reasonably come up with) and ask some people what their characters would relate if questioned.

For all that it couldn't be seen under her armor - possibly in part because it couldn't be seen under her armor - Dragonfly smiled. It was a happy smile, and it was a sad smile, and it was everything in between. Nothing lasts forever, though, and as Eira adjusted Dragonfly forced her attention back to other things. Lights danced behind her eyes, barely visible behind the lenses in her helmet, and a curiously polite transmission was sent Miss Americana's way. A radio-less query that none the less paraded as an incoming communication, it - if not told to mind its own business - manifested as a simple chat-like window bearing a user icon of a stylized dragonfly. Not intending to intrude. Didn't seem right to...interrupt the moment, so established a one-way connection. Can't get data back, don't want you thinking I'm stealing secrets. Sharl mentioned a rogue? Am going to take captured thieves outside, for police; don't want them waking and trying to escape while in this part of the hospital. Could transport the rogue, as well. Or just leave them to you. Am assuming you have them securely contained.

Dragonfly raised her eyebrows, her discomfort relieved somewhat by having a smaller conversation to focus on, even if she perceptibly tensed up a little as he moved further into her personal space. She was pleased to note, at least, that the urge to slide her chair away wasn't hard to fight down and shook the man's hand. sweaty - red-eyed - emotional? - other options less appealing - addiction - illness - mental disorder - assume emotional "Yes," she answered, gesturing toward the main table. She kept her voice dry but even with the visor obscuring much of her upper face she couldn't quite keep some wry amusement and a hint of pride off her features. "In the bandanna. ...and the bridesmaid dress."

Dragonfly was trying very hard - very, very, very hard - not to tap her finger on the table. She knew the noise annoyed some people, and while she typically didn't care too much she had to assume it wasn't good wedding manners to annoy your table mates. So she sat in her slim dark grey dress, wearing sleeker and somehow more elegant versions of her old gauntlets and visor, bending as much willpower as she could to the task of not tapping on the table despite being surrounded by people she didn't know in a situation she wasn't familiar with. No tapping on her leg, either. And she probably shouldn't fidget. Or reach back and let her hair fall free of the little clip that was keeping it pulled back.... don't think I'm fond of formal parties "Ah. Yes," she belated - and distractedly - replied to the man doing his best to pay for several bakers' children's college educations. "Very good...word...'catering'. Should try a small bakery by the river, if you like it. Don't think it's the same place as the caterer's, but very good bagels, bread loaves...."

Gaian Knight had turned his head away, looking over at the stacks with an unreadable expression behind his goggles and face-covering cloth. "You do," he asked, conversationally, "actually have someone watching the thing, right?" He let the question hang in the air for a moment so that the pounding noise could - hopefully - be heard in the ensuing silence. "I mean, I'm assuming you did something with it to keep it from burning the place down again, but is anyone making sure it doesn't, I don't know, summon the devil or punch through the building or something?"

Well, it's important to note that the Lab isn't just a place for people to do their experiments in. That's what private, personally-owned spaces (Dragonfly's warehouse, Gossamer's company, Miss A's hidden lab(s)) are for. The Lab's dedicated to science for the betterment of mankind; sometimes there's overlap between what happens there and the personal projects of the heroes who run it, but by and large what's done there are non-hero projects designed to help people, in the way of prosthetic limbs, new treatments, better law enforcement equipment, solutions for things like energy problems.... It's not like nobody's going to bring their personal projects to work with them sometimes, but the lion's share of Blueshift's experiments would probably still be stuck in her closet. If all she's looking for is more space and equipment for her own, not-necessarily-for-improving-the-lives-of-civilians work she'd be better off spending the equipment points on a workshop somewhere.

Notice Check (1d20 + 15=17) Blagh. It's a good thing he's got a good bonus....

Dragonfly carefully plucked the creamsicles from Estelle's tendrils, wordlessly handing one over to Ellie before tasting the other with a noise of approval. Not quite yet ready for a burger and certainly not up for eating Supercape's...culinary crimes...the heroine was content to let her attention dart around the assembled heroes, their actions, their conversations. She was, really, three parts scientist, one part social scientist, and two parts awkward young woman trying to get a better feel for a new social situation. It was making for some interesting observations.

[bg=#555555]"Already done,"[/bg] Dragonfly quietly noted, nodding toward the screens. She was leaning against the wall opposite the main monitor while trying to look like she didn't need to be leaning on a wall, and meeting mixed success with that last part. [bg=#555555]"Just have to wait and confirm it worked. Better to wake up on her own - difference between a peaceful morning and a blaring alarm clock."[/bg] fringe science and high-cost mind-mapping technology - and waiting is still the hardest part - ironic? - not sure

Gaian Knight chewed on that one a bit. It's not that he didn't know the answer - he imagined pretty much everybody present knew the answer - but it probably wasn't the answer anybody present wanted to hear. Then again, he did generally try to believe that honesty was the best policy. Hell, I was never a great liar anyway. "You don't," he replied, simply. He spread his arms, shrugging - not without sympathy, but just to underline the helplessness of everyone's collective position. "Life's not very good at guarantees, and anybody who tries to tell you that the deck's not stacked against you is probably lying. But none of us have a lot of options, here, and sometimes you just have to take the best option you've got. If you run, we - or someone else - have to catch you, and you look more guilty for running...not to mention, your sentence gets worse and you risk being stuck here forever, because they'll think Providence just can't be trusted to hold you anymore. If you don't give up your hostages, the people up above are eventually going to lose patience: they'll find a way to shut you down, or they'll send in people - heroes, soldiers - who really will believe you killed somebody." He put his hands back in his pockets, though one inevitably, unconsciously found its way back to resting on the hilt of his sword. "Your best option is to show good faith - to let your hostages go; they didn't earn any of this. Well, him, maybe," he drolly corrected, gesturing a pocketed hand at the one in the nullifier. "But not the rest. You did what you could, you got our attention. Now you just have to trust us - trust Fleur, if no one else - to do what we can to help you. Anything else is likely to just make things worse."

Dragonfly raided an eyebrow - thankfully behind her armor - and let the spatial distortion dissipate. She reached down to add Katkvinna to her little collection of individually-contained criminals, frowning. have been meeting too many uncontrolled people lately - criminals, heroes - uncomfortable to be around - dangerous? - should probably work on my own self control - hypocrisy? - mmh She winced as she stood back up. [bg=#555555]"Would be a much better liar,"[/bg] she noted as she turned to find her way back to Eira's room, [bg=#555555]"if you didn't broadcast your thoughts over radio."[/bg]

Dragonfly made her way - slowly, as her armor was clearly in as bad or worse shape than Fenrir's, and she'd earned herself no small bit of bruising under all that dented metal and occasionally flickering lights. Still, she could walk, or at least limp a little, over to Sneak Thief to pull her into her own private section of the void of her dimensional pocket. Then she picked her way over to Fenris and Katkvinna, one hand building a visible distortion around it, which she pointed directly.... ....at Fenris' head. [bg=#555555] "Fight is over,"[/bg] she pointed out. She sounded hurt, not to mention tired now that the threat had passed, the adrenaline was gone, and the shapeshifting gun-wielding maniac had shut up. [bg=#555555]"Don't get me wrong. Not very sympathetic. But she caused the least damage, she surrendered, she isn't capable of doing any more harm. Deserves a lot of things, but not getting choked to death. Would really, really prefer you put her down on your own; having to make you sounds like a lot of effort. And have better things to be spending my time on right now anyway."[/bg]