KnightDisciple

"It's a bit of a hike sometimes, but I have a shortcut I like to take." He grinned a bit at that remark, his eyes almost twinkling. "There's nothing wrong with not being as outgoing as some people, Ellis. The Good Lord made all types. Not everyone's a people-person sort. But yes, Stesha's impressive. And a good soul." He sighed, set his cup down, and leaned forward a bit. He looked serious, but not angry-serious, just "I'm treating you like a fellow adult" serious. "I know we're dancing around a couple things, but those aren't why we're here. We both know you and Stesha have a "thing". That's fine. Stesha's a grown woman, and if I tried to pull the "protective big brother" act, she'd teach me the error of my ways. But I wanted to get to know you at least a bit. You probably know by now she's had some...rough times...in her recent past. I, and others, are just concerned for her. For what it's worth, though. you seem like a good fellow. I know we've only been chatting a few minutes, but I've gotten pretty good at reading people." He'd been about to say something else when the rather obvious movements of Ray really drew his attention. Gabriel sat back and pondered this new arrival, his own gaze intent as the man drew near. As if trying to take his measure. Not quite a challenge, but definitely letting the tattooed man know he wasn't going to be able to just completely dominate this conversation.

Hoo boy. Symbiote DC 31 Toughness Save: 21. So he is also Staggered and Dazed. Woodsman: 29 Symbiote: 20 2x Bruise, Staggered, Dazed (Woodsman's Action) Gunslinger: 15 Staggered, Dazed (Nighthawk's Action) Nighthawk: 11 Nevermore: 7 STUNLOCKS FOR EVERYONE! Nighthawk is up in Init!

Nevermore, meanwhile, was not content to sit idle when there were foes to be fought. He continued the whirling motion he had begun, and stepped forward the last few feet to the large, armored man, his path erratic as he moved. Not that his foe seemed to notice over-much; he was still reeling from Woodsman's explosive bolt. He seemed to somewhat register Nevermore's presence, but not enough to react nearly in time. Which meant Nevermore was free to land a barrage of punches and knee strikes, most of them focusing on the same part of his armor that Woodsman had struck. It didn't take him out completely, but there were large, visible cracks in the armor now. And the electrical current coursing through Nevermore's gauntlets caused his body to seize up, locking him from any real action even more, at least for a few precious seconds. Nevermore just took a half-step back and kept his guard up.

"We've done some charity work together. Both here, and at her...main home." Hm. Maybe he meant Sanctuary? "And it's okay if it can be overwhelming. Stesha's made a lot of friends over the years. We've helped her, she's helped us. Though I suppose with you around her stress about helping some of us when we have, ah, work accidents, might decrease." He smiled and accepted the salute. "It can be tough some days, when so many want to focus on sports and STEM. Which are all well and good, don't get me wrong, but the Arts, well, one could argue they're the soul of civilization." At Ellis's visible wince, Carson paused before he could continue. He slowly and carefully put his drink down, and without making any movements, tried to figure out which patron was making Ellis wary, just by using his unique sound-based sense of the space around him. Ultimately futile, but it made him feel better. Instead, he spoke calmly with the other man. "Unexpected coworker? Can always be a bit of a shock." Maybe it played his hand a bit, but that kind of reaction wasn't something you took lightly.

Carson nodded with a smile at the comment about doing what you love. "I definitely agree. Finding your vocation instead of just a job is always rewarding." He snorted a bit at the question about being a botanist. "I've been gifted a couple of very low-maintenance plants by Stesha, but I am by no means a botanist. Don't try to suggest as such to her, she'll probably end up lecturing us both on some obscure aspect of it. No, I'm not really a scientist of any stripe. I'm actually a teacher at Freedom College. I'm one of the very few faculty teaching theater and drama there. It's really fantastic; a lot of the kids just...light up when things start to click. It's very rewarding, and while it's not a Broadway tour, I still get to stretch my acting muscles regularly."

One didn't have to be a psychic to sense that the teenager in the group was giving Bolt a stare that, from other metahumans, would probably have melted holes in something. As-is, his disgust was palpable to his parents, but he managed to (barely) keep his mouth shut on the subject. Then suddenly they were talking about how the baby was actually his grandfather, and he blinked in confusion, one hand slowly running back through his hair as he stood there, trying to process that information. And then, he heard the distress in Anna Cline's voice. He saw how tense she was. How part of her wanted to let loose, but she thought she couldn't. So, William Cline enacted a daring and cunning plan. Step one had him moving to his Grandmother's side...and wrapping his arms around her in a hug. He didn't say anything to her. He just stood there, hugging and holding her. Step two was when he mind-spoke to his mother, and only his mother. 'Mom, can't we get Mister Perfect Jock out of here? He's clearly not helping anything. Even if this isn't what we thought it would be, he doesn't have the right to be here! He should go! Plus he's a-' Will used a phrase Paige knew she hadn't taught him.

Ellis didn't have to wait over-long. A red-headed young man walked in, and Ellis probably recognized him from a few group photographs of Stesha and friends on Sanctuary spending time together. Plus a few whispered (or not so whispered) discussions among some of the varied residents of said planet/dimension. He saw Ellis, gave a small wave and nod, and went to the counter to get his own drink. When he sat down, he had a cup that was still seaming, and took a moment to blow on it before setting it down and reaching his hand out toward Ellis, a winning smile on his face. "Hey Ellis! It's good to meet you face-to-face finally. I'm Carson, Carson Keefe. I'm sorry we haven't really gotten a chance to talk; between our busy schedules it can be hard. How are you doing today? Work's not draining you too much?" Well he at least seemed sincere, and he wasn't opening with a barrage of "so why are you dating my friend" or "if you hurt her I bury you". So that was probably a plus.

Right, so that's a DC 25 Toughness Save for Not!Grammaton!Bale: 13. Welp. He's Staggered and Stunned. Woodsman: 29 Symbiote: 20 1x Bruise, Dazed Gunslinger: 15 Staggered, Dazed Nighthawk: 11 Nevermore: 7 I'll go ahead and do Nevermore's turn: Move Action: Get up in Army Symbiote's ugly grill. Standard Action: Punch him! Attack Roll: 32. BOOYAH. I'm gonna add +5 to damage, meaning it's now a DC 28 Toughness, plus a DC 20 Fortitude Save vs Daze-only Stun. A. Sym Toughness: 27. Laid low by my pride, but that's still a Bruise. A Sym Fort: 9. He shall continue to do nothing. Woodsman: 29 Symbiote: 20 2x Bruise, Dazed (Nevermore's Action) Gunslinger: 15 Staggered, Dazed Nighthawk: 11 Nevermore: 7 I'll post IC after AW, then it'll be Woodsman's turn.

GM Post The man with the large rifle, now completely covered in an eerie set of grey-red armor that looked like metal and composites at a glance, but not quite right at a closer look, reeled back from the explosion against his chest. The plating there had cratered a bit...but the edges of the damage were twitching! As if his clothing were alive! It was quickly shown that he wasn't alone. Another man stepped out from the half-shadows, his gaze slipping toward the rooftop for a moment before centering on Nevermore. His black, featureless long coat swirled around him as he raised the two dark, gleaming automatic pistols and took aim, his face emotionless. He pulled the triggers, and two short bursts roared out, the flare from the guns somehow making six-pointed stars... And Nevermore deftly dodged to one side, his flaring cape confusing his movements enough the bursts of projectiles just eating divots from the floor. The gunman just lowered his guns partway and tilted his head to one side.

Woodsman: 29 Symbiote: 20 1x Bruise, Stunned Gunslinger: 15 Nighthawk: 11 Nevermore: 7 Symbiote is Stunned! It's super-effective. The Gunslinger, lacking any other targets, takes a few steps around his woozy buddy and fires a couple rounds at Nevermore: 13. This guy can't auto-miss, but that's still not a hit. I'll get a GM post up here in a minute, then it's Alderwitch's turn for Nighthawk!

Thoughtspeed was a whirl of motion around the room, green energy leaving a trail of sparking energy everywhere. "Junkjunkjunkthisisweirdhmwhat'sthisthismightmatterWHOA!" His searching came to a screeching halt with that exclamation. Besides shoving a few pieces of random, not-old equipment into plain view, he suddenly stopped next to his mother and held up a business card. "Don't recognize who this is but it's gotta be important, right?" The almost pleading hope in his voice was almost physically thick.

He rolls a 21, which is exactly 5 under! Hm, no GM Fiat just yet, we all just got HP, so he'll be Stunned and Bruised. Woodsman: 29 Symbiote: 20 1x Bruise, Stunned Gunslinger: 15 Nighthawk: 11 Nevermore: 7

There was a soft "woosh" of displaced air, and Will, in costume but with his helmet "stowed", is standing at the door of his parent's bedroom, a worried look on his face. He'd deny any such thing, but both can tell he's shed a couple of tears, probably from anxiety after waking up to a jumble of emotions from his parents, plus the stress of things the last couple of months. "So...are we all going, then? Now?" It was an awkward, rather redundant question. But he was a teenage boy facing the prospect of losing the only grandfather he ever knew, one he'd only started to get to know mere months ago.

2:15PM The house was starting to buzz with the final preparations for the wedding itself. Caterers swished to and fro, photographers raced to get situated for the Perfect Shot, and guests would soon be arriving. The wedding party, still operating in two groups that weren’t even allowed to see each other, had finished its pictures. And right now, an usher was power-walking the halls of the Manor, a thermos in hand and a mission on his mind. Finally, he found the library. He heard a voice coming from inside, and as he drew near, he was sure it was the bride, though he couldn’t tell what she was saying. By the time he got to the door of the library, she had gone quiet. So he knocked, speaking as he did. “Are you decent?” “Corbin?” Erin called from inside. “Yeah, I’m good, come in.” When Corbin opened the door he found Erin alone, perched in the window seat that overlooked the garden, her dress carefully spread to avoid wrinkles. Her auburn hair was curled and pinned up, her makeup subtle but perfect, and between that and a frankly rather stunning dress, she looked very little like his old high school teammate. Even so, she gave him the rueful half-smile he remembered as she waved him in. “Are we seriously doing more pictures already? I thought she’d finally run out of ways for us to line ourselves up in front of flowers.” Corbin chuckled, walking closer. He himself cut a rather dashing figure in his suit, plain as it was; his sheer size, and the grace with which he moved it, made him the sort who drew at least some attention. “No, the photographer didn’t send me. Alex didn’t either, though your bridesmaids didn’t appreciate that joke as much. I come bearing a gift from the groom.” He held up the thermos as if it were some sort of ancient artifact. “The best cocoa that could be found, carefully prepared to your most luxurious standards. And I think I can help make sure it doesn’t spill.” He likely meant that he could use his Ring to protect her dress. Stains would be bad. “That’s probably a good idea,” Erin agreed, reaching out to accept the thermos. She cradled it in her hands, feeling the slight warmth leaking through the cylinder, but made no move to open it. “I’m not sure I can drink anything right now, though,” she admitted with half a laugh. “Too many butterflies. You want some?” “Trevor would probably be wroth if he knew I drank all your cocoa. But perhaps I’ll have a sip in a moment. Before that…” His eyes scrunched just a bit in concentration, the ring on his right hand glowed a bit, and then suddenly Erin had a faint blue glow from the neck down to her toes. Corbin relaxed a bit. “There. Spill risk eliminated.” He took a step closer, a chair nearby sliding over, at which point he turned it around and straddled it, arms crossed on the back. It didn’t groan under his weight, which was almost a shock. “As for butterflies, it’s okay. I mean, sure, we faced down Omega, but this isn’t the same. But...you know, it’ll be okay. I believe it. Mark believes it, and we know how much that counts for.” He gave a sardonic smile there. His gaze grew distant then, and he went stiller than Erin usually saw him. She could recognize someone living a memory. “This...today...it’s great. Trust me when I say there are much...rougher...ways this could be happening. What you two have here...this is because you’re such incredible people. You’ll keep being incredible people after today. But I think the two of you will be even more incredible.” “It’s pretty amazing that it’s happening at all, I don’t doubt that I’m the lucky one,” Erin replied with great conviction. She smoothed her hands lightly over her glowing dress, feeling the faint tingle. “Believe me, it’s not the being married part that I’m worried about. That’s the prize I get for making it through the day.” She chuckled, relaxing a little in the window seat. “But I’ve never been comfortable in front of crowds. The first time Young Freedom made a public appearance, way back in the day? I got James to teleport me away just so I wouldn’t have to take a bow with the team. There were a lot of benefits to being the plain-looking one on that team, and anonymity was the best one. It’s not really my nature to want to get up there and perform, you know?” She raised a hand, waved it vaguely. “But once that’s over, it’ll be okay.” “So, don’t think of it as ‘a crowd’. Yeah maybe you personally don’t know everyone here. But this is about you guys, and your family and friends. We’re here to celebrate with you, and celebrate you. And to stand as witnesses to your commitment to each other.” He shrugged. “Maybe try to focus on a couple handfuls of people in the audience? Rather than trying to take everything in at once. That’s what the pictures and video are for?” Erin gave him an arch look. “Try to imagine the audience in their underwear?” she suggested. “Don’t worry about it, Alex has been bucking me up all morning. I’ll be fine when we actually hit go-time and all the adrenaline and nerves have somewhere to go.” She stood up and smoothed out her dress again, then passed Corbin the thermos so she could pace a little. “I just think that if I try and eat anything at this precise moment I’m definitely going to vomit.” She took a deep breath and almost ran a hand through her hair, then remembered herself. “How about you, you seeing the future here?” she asked lightly. “Quo-Dis is still on the west coast, but that’s not forever.” Corbin barely controlled a belly laugh that probably would have disturbed half the Manor. “Okay, so, while that is a technique, it’s not quite what I meant. But if Alex has you covered, that works well enough.” He took the thermos, holding it for a moment. “Do you want some water, instead?” He was trying to be helpful! At her question, he actually blushed a bit and shuffled in his chair. “Uh, yeah. Kinda. I mean. We don’t have a date yet. But she’s got a ring. I want it. I think she does, too. It’s just, between her job, my work, cultural differences, her mother, and her fath-” Corbin suddenly clapped his mouth closed and tried to look casual about it. “Yeah. Her mom. Have you met Sa-Ur? She’s...a character.” “Haven’t had the pleasure,” Erin replied, looking very interested in anybody’s problems besides her own right now. “But I know something about Ultimen and their general attitudes towards outsiders. “I take it she’s not a huge fan of Quo-dis marrying you and staying in the outside world indefinitely?” Corbin huffed out a breath. “Sa-Ur is an...imposing….woman. I’ve met her only a few times. Quo-Dis has communicated some of their conversations to me. Sa-Ur is not a huge fan of most things, really. She thinks it is, and I quote, ‘something that will pass’. I don’t think the possibility of me even approaching their lifespans has entered her mind. At least…” Here he got a bit distant-eyed and fiddles with his ring for a moment. “Assuming something doesn’t happen. Then again. I guess that one future is completely blown. Which is good. But...yeah.” He shook his head a bit. “Quo-Dis still wants to get married, but she’s not really rushing it now, and without her mother providing impetus, there just doesn’t seem to be a rush. Her fath-her family otherwise are pretty distant. I’m still figuring out all the dynamics in Ultimen society.” “Nothing wrong with a lengthy engagement, I guess,” Erin offered. She picked up and fiddled with a couple of books on the shelves, replacing each one without really reading anything. “But it’s probably easier if you’re at least in the same city. Is one of you gonna move, one of these days?” “Maybe. It’s...hard to say. If I do, I’d need to dig up the Vault and haul it with me. Maybe she’ll come back out this way, or we’ll end up somewhere in the middle, or up or down the East Coast. The plus side is it’s not really a long trip for me; maybe it’s petty, but I can get there without much trouble, so visits aren’t an ordeal. She’s not quite as fast but she’s close, so it works both ways.” His smile got a bit wistful. “My folks love having her over. It was awkward at first, but they’ve all kind of learned how the ‘dance’ goes. And since Sa-Ur doesn’t care much about me, we don’t have awkward ‘future in-law’ dinners.” “That’s a plus,” Erin said fervently, rolling her eyes. “Trevor’s parents aren’t actually interested enough in him to have any opposition to his wedding. Not counting today, I’ve met each of them twice, and one of those was for the funeral. I’m pretty sure the less in-laws the better is a rule for a lot of people. If your folks are the rare good in-laws, then hey, even better.” Erin checked the clock again, which had crept forward a bare few minutes. “That photographer down there, she had me taking pictures with my family from Seattle. Talk about awkward. Me and Jessie and the other Erin all in one photograph, probably three different versions of the same pained smile. Maybe we’ll just keep that one out of the album.” She smiled wryly. “Maybe it’s worse with us super-types; my grandparents got along with each other and my parents fine, when they were...all still around.” He coughed awkwardly, and continued. “I can imagine. I’m glad Jessie is doing better, though. Her friend, Aquaria, seems like a good person. Deep One. You know what I mean. But you should totally save the picture. In 10 years it’s the sort of thing you’ll laugh about, I bet.” Erin looked troubled for a minute. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Jessie is… nevermind. Aquaria’s working here now, did you know that? Trevor hired her on to help with the landscaping, keep the ponds in condition and manage the insects. She does a great job.” She took a deep breath and looked at the clock again. “I guess it’s about that time. The cocoa is just going to have to wait. Walk me back to the ladies changing room?” she offered. “I’ve seen her moving about the grounds.” That was a more polite way of saying he had seen her diving in and out of the ponds. He stood at her mention of walking back, and the blue light around her faded as he made the thermos more secure at his belt. “Well, so long as the groom knows I delivered the present and it was delayed by the bride, sure. With that said, I suppose I need to get to ushering, too. Shall we, Lady White?” He smirked a bit and offered her his elbow, ready to begin guiding her back to the changing room. Not that she needed it, but he had that knightly streak every once in a while. Erin took his arm and walked with him through the spotless halls of the Manor to the room where the women were assembling. She hesitated a bare moment, never quite comfortable with physical affection, then leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the encouragement,” she told him, “and the cocoa. See you in a little bit.” “You’re welcome. What are friends for?” Before she went through the door, he gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Erin?” He waited until she turned to face him for a moment. He grinned like a schoolboy and spoke. “Knock ‘em dead out there. Especially Trevor.” And with that last word, and a nod and salute to the other women in the room who probably could see and hear them, Corbin turned and power-walked toward where he’d need to be about his usher duties. After all, there was a wedding to put on.

All PCs get a Hero Point for things having gotten so messed up. Initiative Order Woodsman: 29 Symbiote: 20 Gunslinger: 15 Nighthawk: 11 Nevermore: 7

Well, if the power-drain is because of spiked punch, maybe everyone who's actively in that Brawl didn't drink punch? Maybe they had water, or soda, or maybe they happened to randomly eat a few snacks in a random order such that the power-neutralizing chemical was itself neutralized? Final Exam and Feathers in their Caps are sort of "holodeck gone wrong" scenarios, Rav, but it has merit. As for the target in Sneaky Things, I'd bounce that off the Refs; there's probably an item or 3 that are nominally trophies but secretly a bit more potent than just shiny metal things...

Thoughtpeed Search: 27. Hopefully his Old Man can keep up!

"Not bad on your shots. Good use of exotic bolts." Keeping in mind how taciturn Nevermore was, that was pretty high praise. He glanced at the imposing edifice in front of them, a slightly worried frown on his face as he fiddled and futzed with various bits of equipment in pouches, shifting things here and there until he started sliding modules into his gauntlets. "Originally, there was supposed to be a single notable opponent inside. Powerhouse-lite. Tough but doable. Now? Unknown. Likely not Freedom-League-level foe or foes, but may be multiples. I suggest I go in one of the roof entrances, Nighthawk bursts through that door over there, and you, Woodsman, slip in and snipe from the balcony or the like. Play to our strengths, try to out-flank whoever's in there." He snapped a final component in. Both of the other cowl-types could hear the sudden electrical whine, and when Nevermore flicked his arms a certain way, tiny waves of electricity danced upon his gauntlets for several moments. The bird-themed sidekick looked to the other two, determination setting his mouth in a thin line. "Done playing around." -------------------------------------------------------------- With their battle plan set, the young heroes got to moving. When it came time to enter, Nevermore struck the glass pane in front of him once, twice, thrice, then walked back a few feet.... *CRASH* In a rain of small fragments of glass, Nevermore dropped down to the floor of the warehouse, cape flaring in the flickering lights as he landed on the ground and kneeled for a moment before rising slowly, cape draped around himself. The large man pointing an assault rifle at the young hero, with a strange red-gray armor leaking over his body, didn't seem overly impressed.

Right, kicking this into high(er) gear! Initiative Roll Time! Nevermore: 7. Too much time working on his entrance... Gunslinger: 15. Army Symbiote: 20. Before entering the warehouse (and thus Init), Nevermore's going to activate his Electroshock Gauntlets Gadget configuration. Offense instead of defense! What could go wrong!

The easy answer for Nevermore is a Lady Cat Burglar. (Animal theme yet to be determined.) Bonus points if they meet outside of costume, and have a verbal fencing match. (Aleksander would be horribly outclassed.) Alternatively, like I suggested above, if Alek is at the dance itself and the powerhouses bust in while there are depowered folks, he could fight a delaying action.

MATHED! Alright, fixed those points.

7PM The vows had been said, the marriage had been pronounced, and now, it was time to celebrate. And celebrate this crowd did, with a hearty meal soon enough transitioning into dancing. But instead of just a slow, ballroom-style dance, the bride and groom had requested an energetic swing music number be played for their first dance as man and wife. Luckily, the man with the trumpet on stage knew how to swing the music just right, and as he finished his third song in a row, Carson Keefe smiled as he set his shining trumpet to one side. Normally he’d rather not leave it alone, but if there was any crowd where it wouldn’t get stolen, this was the one. He signaled to the rest of the band to keep playing, albeit somewhat more subdued numbers, before moving off the stage. He stood at one of the snack and drink tables, nursing a glass of ice water and leaning against a convenient pillar, not quite out of breath but definitely needing a moment to catch it nonetheless. “So it turns out Gabriel really does blow a mean trumpet,” came an amused female voice from behind him. Stesha Madison stepped out from around the pillar, her own drink in her hand, and smiled at him. She’d changed out of the gardening clothes from this morning and into a simple yellow dress embroidered with dozens of tiny flowers across the bodice and down one side. “I think Ammy’s going to be bugging you for more music from now on,” she confided, nodding to where her daughter was being led in a slow box-step by Steve, gravely cautious with the tiny girl standing on his feet. After watching Trevor and Erin’s gleefully energetic first dance, Ammy had lost no time in begging Trevor to show her how to do it. Watching the usually taciturn young groom spin and toss Amaryllis in her frilly white dress had made Stesha laugh and tear up at the same time, and she was sure the pictures would be fantastic. “You done for the night, or just taking a break?” Carson snorted at the joke. “I can honestly say you’re the first person to make that joke to me. Which is impressive, considering some of the company we keep.” He sipped his glass. “It’s just a break, but I can give them a few songs. I love playing, and when it’s for a celebration like this, I have more than enough energy. I’ll slow down when I’m old.” He stretched a bit, and winced slightly, a hand going down to his abdomen for just a moment, before shrugging it off. “Stupid scars. Anyways, I’d be more than happy to teach Ammy if she’s interested, but after the basics, I only know wind instruments. If she decides she likes strings, percussion, keys, or, Lord have mercy on our souls, the keytar, I’m not the man for the job. One of the monks can help, I’d wager. I think one of them used to be in a metal band.” Somehow, completely unshocking that that was the case. He watched the young girl dance, letting a comfortable silence rest between the two friends. “She’s growing up to be a fine young woman, Stesha. You should be proud of her.” His voice held quite sincerity to it, with more than a bit of empathy. “Don’t call her a young woman yet, Carson,” Stesha pleaded jokingly. “She’s not even five till June. But I am proud of her. Look at her out there,” she gestured with her wineglass. “Never met a stranger, and she did a beautiful job during the ceremony.” She sniffled a little. “Sorry, weddings make me a little emotional, and this one was lovely.. God, they seem so young. I was their age when I started hero work, and they’ve been at it for ages already.” Stesha didn’t mention that she’d been barely older than the happy couple when she’d gotten married herself; there seemed no need to bring that up tonight. “Raising a child who can so easily exhibit kindness and charity is worth more than any super-power. And it’s fine. I think they’re designed to evoke our emotions, hm?” He chuckled at the age comment. “Yes, I kind of feel a bit outclassed myself; they’ve been at this longer than me, and I’ve got a few years on them myself.” He sipped again, then gave Stesha a somewhat sly glance out of the corner of his eye. “Was Ellis going to make it to the party here tonight? I see a lot up on stage, but obviously my focus isn’t really the crowd.” She raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I think he’s working tonight. His job involves a lot of late nights, so he keeps pretty busy. And he’s not really a big party kind of guy, I think.” Stesha set down her wineglass on a nearby tray and gave him an arch look. “I know the music’s probably not the same caliber with you here and not up there, but do you want to dance?” Carson grinned a bit, setting his own glass down after another sip. “The band is doing a fine job. I’m not the only good musician on the stage. And you need more than trumpet for a good dance, anyway.” He stepped away from the pillar, straightened out his suit, and bowed toward Stesha before offering her his hand. “May I have this dance, milady?” The grin on his face betrayed his teasing. As they went onto the dance floor, Carson started off a bit slow, if with some inherent grace, before slowly finding a rhythm comfortable for both of them. “You should feel lucky I didn’t prep any square dance numbers. Might have been a great prank instead of the Chicken Dance, though.” “I heard from a reliable source that both the Chicken Dance and the Hokey Pokey were specifically banned from the set list for this reception,” Stesha pointed out good-humoredly, putting one hand in his and one hand on his shoulder with the careful formality of someone who mostly dances at weddings. She smiled quickly at Amaryllis, now dancing exuberantly in a group with several other children, before turning her attention back to Carson. “No shop talk tonight, but when we get back to Sanctuary, I do need to meet with you soon about doing up the orchard for the monastery. I don’t want to wait till it gets too hot. Are you going to be around next week?” “Those songs are practically requirements at large gatherings. Then again, the bride and groom seem like the sort who only tolerate traditions that suit them.” He grinned and shook his head at that comment, before following Stesha’s gaze over to her daughter for a few moments, a hint of uncle-like pride showing. “Wouldn’t dream of boring you with shop talk. If I wanted to fill airtime I’d just quote Henry V…” He shook his head and refocused, his eyes losing focus a bit as they flicked over pages of a mental calendar. “Hm. The Brothers have been mentioning needing to touch up the orchard. Probably wanted me to ask you about it, but it’s been work work work lately. Next week...yes, that should work just fine. I don’t have any plans that would keep me out all day. Morning works better; currently my classes are in the afternoon, and I prefer to patrol in the early evening for the time being. But I can swap patrol and ‘free time’ if it works better for you.” He gave a noncommittal shrug, then. “Not like I have many other plans, currently, and I’m off Monitor Duty for a bit yet.” “Well you can’t pretend to be sad about that,” Stesha teased. “The last time I pulled a rotation on monitor duty, I finished an entire adult coloring book in seven days. It was a nice break, I guess,” she allowed, “but it’s not exactly action-packed most nights. Not with so many heroes in the city these days. Why don’t you stop over for breakfast some morning and I’ll feed you and we can go over the plans.” The song changed, and she shifted to the new rhythm almost automatically, turning so they were in a corner of the dance floor and out of danger from the child mob in the center. “I’ll have to remember to bring one of those next time I’m on duty. They’re apparently all the rage now.” He gave a lop-sided grin at that. “And you’re right, it is pretty dull. Still. I’ll take that boredom over excitement.” He followed her over to the side of the dance floor as he mulled over the proposal, then nodded. “That sounds good. I do always enjoy free, home-cooked food. And that will give Ammy a chance to bug me about music without dragging all the other children into it.” He gave a long-suffering sigh with an over-exaggerated look of despair at that thought. “Oh, you’ll end up as show-and-tell eventually,” Stesha assured him blithely, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Up close, the scent of the jasmine in her hair mingled pleasantly with the aroma of candles and coffee in the room. “You may as well resign yourself and take it like a man. We might even be able to dig up some instruments!” She laughed. “Education in the arts is very important, Carson. You don’t want to deprive the kids, do you?” Another melodramatic sigh. It’s like he’s an actor or something. “Now you’re pulling on my feelings of duty toward the arts, my pride as an Irishman, and my pride as a teacher. Woe is me! Hm.” A sly grin crossed his face. “Perhaps I’ll teach Ammy how to play the drums, eh?” He laughed a bit, shaking his head. “Look at me, acting more scared of a bunch of hyperactive kids than another world-ending apocalypse. Then again.” His eyes darted around a bit, and he spoke the next sentence in a slightly lower tone. “When you’ve been a Horseman of Revelations for a bit, many things seem duller.” He shrugged, and his voice went back to normal volume. “Now, it’s not the children that really frighten me. No. What’s this I hear about a betting pool that centers on me, among the women on Sanctuary?” His eyebrow arched imperiously. Stesha cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that’s highly privileged information you don’t have clearance for, Mister Keefe,” she told him with grave seriousness. “Especially not when you’re threatening to teach my daughter to play the drums. Although,” she added, spinning with him along the edge of the floor, “if you were to give me a heads-up if you ever decide to date one of the visiting teachers, I could cut you in and make it worth your while. Not that I’m admitting to anything, obviously,” she added. “Just hypothetically.” “You sound like my mother.” His face had a bittersweet smile on it. “Except more polite about it. I swear, she’s practically a saint most of the time, but every once in a while, she’s downright scary.” He chuckled, though little humor was present. “But yes, if by some miracle I start dating, I will make sure my sister by another mister knows first. That way we can determine how to split the winnings. And if you to, hypothetically speaking, of course, warn me ahead of time if a third party was seeking to...actively end the betting pool, as it were, I’m sure we can give Ammy lessons in something more befitting her elegant nature. Maybe we can focus on her singing.” He was not the most inventive dancer, but his instincts meant he kept up just fine. “I’m sure even that won’t get me access to the top-secret information you have, Miss Madison.” He didn’t even stumble over it this time. Which would hopefully save them some embarrassment and awkwardness. He checked for eavesdroppers before he spoke again. “Though. You know. Friend to friend, near-sibling to near-sibling, you’d at least let me know if a….bet-seeker was, you know, a good Catholic girl, right?” “If you want me to fix you up, Carson, by all means just say the word,” Stesha told him with a grin. “I have vast networks at my disposal, you know. And you clean up pretty nicely.” She gave his tie a gentle tug as the music began winding to a close once again. “I’m sure I could find a nice Catholic girl or ten who might give your homely mug a second look. But god help you if you so much as come near my home with a practice pad and sticks,” she warned. “Hn. But how many would be seeking Carson Keefe, hm?” His face held a bittersweet smile, and his eyes looked lost in thought. “I mean, it’s never been an issue, but always been a fear, you know? And it’s doubly so with me.” Stesha knew Carson well enough to know the man was concerned not only about a “fangirl” for his heroic persona, but also the man’s concerns about his powers muddying up the waters a bit. “Probably just being melodramatic. It’s the classical training, some might say.” Stesha patted his arm. “If she’s the right one, she’ll love you for all of you, and that includes the part that’s Gabriel. You can’t separate yourself from your powers just because they make your love life more complicated. You just need a nice girl who’s mostly sensible and doesn’t mind getting swept off her feet every once in awhile.” She cocked her head and looked away, apparently thumbing through a mental rolodex. “Lemme mull it over for a little bit. How do you feel about superheroines?” “You treat all wounds, don’t you, Stesha? If you didn’t have such good folks already I’d try to get mine to adopt you. Your hair’s green, that’s good enough to be Irish.” He seemed to be joking, but the deadpan tone made it hard to tell. “Hm. I would say so long as they’re Catholic, or close enough my ma would only rant for a month, I’m pretty open. If you need rant-time criteria, I can ask my siblings to test the waters.” He smiled gently at her as he spoke his next words. “For what it’s worth, Ellis seems like a very nice fellow. I’ve gotten very good words about him from Tarrant. And Tiamat.” She sighed, and this time her look away seemed more purposeful. “He’s very nice,” she said quietly. “We have some things in common, and our kids like each other. I just… falling in love the first time was so exciting. It was like jumping off a cliff and realizing I could fly.” Stesha snorted softly at her own metaphor. “It didn’t last, and who knows if I would even trust the feeling if it showed up again, but I miss it,” she admitted. “We’re both moving heaven and earth to have time for coffee dates and quick dinners, and it’s just… it’s nice.” She waved a hand dismissively, then picked up a cup of coffee from a passing waiter. “Maudlin at weddings,” she reminded him with a laugh. “Anyway, I’ll keep an eye out on your behalf, so long as you promise to be a good boy and not whine about blind dating.” Carson also grabbed a cup of coffee, before his eyes glanced around everywhere. He suddenly had a mischievous grin on his face. “Want to have yours Irish-style? Personal mix.” Whether she said yes or no, he would slip a silvery flask out and add just a bit of ‘something extra’ to his own coffee. “Mmm. That’s the best. But yes, I understand the both the excitement, and the missing it, if not in the same exact way. Nothing wrong with starting small and going from there. Please let me know if there’s something I can do to help you have a bit of extra time.” He sipped again, closing his eyes for a moment as he took in the simple pleasure of the taste of his “enhanced” coffee. “I would have you know that a Keefe never whines. They simply express misgivings.” “Of course you do,” Stesha deadpanned, holding her mug out for the addition. The alcohol would have no effect on her, but it seemed more polite. “Speaking of, I should probably go collect my daughter. I suspect she’s about to turn from fairy princess back into a pumpkin if I don’t get her to bed soon. It’s been a very exciting day! I’ll call you about breakfast.” Carson gave Stesha the “add-in” as requested. He quickly finished his own drink and wiped his mouth dry with a handy napkin. He nodded and smiled when she said she needed to leave. “That’s fine. Can’t have pumpkins sprouting in the middle of the dance floor yet. Tell her Carson says to be good. It probably won’t work, but you never know. I should probably go help the band out. I think the groom is signaling that he wants more swing music.” Carson leaned in and gave Stesha one last hug before he started making his way to the stage. Once on the stage, he grabbed his trumpet, gave it a flourished twirl, and as soon as the previous song ended, he dove right in on another high-energy swing piece.

I'm operating on the idea that the likes of Uriel can't just run around willy-nilly these days. They have to give guys like Theo (or Carson) a boost (one way or another). After that, it's up to the Mortals. Theoretically, Theo could get his powers stripped, but he'd have to do really extreme(ly bad) stuff with them, and at that point he'd probably have turned Villain and be calling on other sources for power anyway. Theo's left to his own devices to determine who, in particular, he goes after as Judex at any particular time. Honestly I mostly involved Uriel for background flavor, the amusing (to me) juxtaposition of "Angel makes a guy a super-scary bad luck bayou hobo man", and a callback to Gabriel's origin.

Well, I mean, you've literally played an Angel, and the only real difference between this guy and Gabriel, power-wise, is that Gabriel basically got a mutation kick-started, and this guy is skipping the proverbial middleman. Cobalt Templar's Ring, and the other six like it, are powered by Kabbalism, which is an offshoot of Judaism. Renegade is an Angel (albeit an NPC). Gabriel and 3 others went to literally Heaven to run the 4 Horsemen positions. Azrael has repeatedly shown up in the game. I guess I'm confused what, exactly, about this guy is somehow jumping over a line? I'm playing pretty heavily off of the Dresden Files, in that I'm essentially hinting at Uriel being "Heaven's Spook" (since he's giving powers to a guy who's not as bright and shiny). I'm not trying to be combative, I'm genuinely confused. I honestly just saw him as being in the same vein as Gabriel, as far as how approve-able he is, backstory-wise.

Cobalt Templar In Form: 2 IC Posts Nevermore Feathers in Their Caps: 2 IC Posts Thoughtspeed Planned Obsolescence: 1 IC Post