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About Nick

  • Birthday 08/18/1981

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  1. --Of course,-- Eve mentally replied. Now that Eve was largely retired, focusing more on philanthropic work instead of the hero life (though she would still jaunt out on occasion to keep her mind and skills sharp), she had been spending a lot more time up in Ottawa where True North was headquartered since her wife was still a member of the Canadian superteam. She cocked her head to the side to regard the shadow witch, and quirked an eyebrow in question. --Why do you ask?--
  2. The white-haired telepath gave the pool a considering look before turning toward Tarva and her umbrella and joining the shadow witch in the shade. Eve liked Tarva, though she'd long given up on trying to bridge the distance and formality that existed in their relationship. It use to frustrate the Frenchwoman a lot in the past, but she'd made her peace with it, and now she was simply glad for both her and Kimber. Settling down, Eve tucked her legs under herself and gave Tarva a faint smile before looking back out across the pool and her friends. --What can I help you with?-- she thought.
  3. It was at that moment that Eve was padding by in her own two-piece, halting when the robe pooled around Tarva's feet. Her sage green eyes glanced down ever so briefly, before she quirked a snow white eyebrow in the direction of her companions. She chuckled to herself, gave her head a little shake, and flashed Kimber and Tarva a faint smile before continuing her trek to the pool. "Tarva's right," she called over her shoulder in her French accented english, "It's a pool party day. So suit up, Kimber."
  4. Eve flashed Daphne a quick grin as she knelt to give Avro some attention. "I really shouldn't, I have so much work to do," she said though it wasn't very convincing. Her warring desire between getting caught up on paperwork and getting caught up with her friends gave way to relaxing in the pool once Mali wandered by. "Sure," she said after a moment. "Let me get my suit."
  5. Dutemps Building, Château de Martel Early Afternoon, Around Lunchtime Eve leaned back in her office chair and sighed, rubbing her eyes and fighting off an encroaching headache. She needed something to eat, and to see the other ladies of the Castle. She gave herself a gentle mental chiding, reflecting that it was so typical of her to jump straight into to tackling the pile of paperwork tied to the company, the tower and the city projects she had instead of taking some time to reconnect with her friends. "Yeah," she said out loud, padding off toward the kitchen, "Food."
  6. "You could say that," Abigail said with a nod toward Ryder. "It's not as, um, poetic as I would have put it but it does tend to get the point across." She shrugged. "It's just a little thing I know how to do that I've repurposed to sneak cookies out of a cookie jar, so to speak." She grinned, but that grin faded somewhat, and she looked a little uncomfortable, as she caught the other snippets of conversation regarding weapons.
  7. Abigail blinked at Eira's comment, thought about it for a moment, then choked back a laugh while her face flushed. "Ha, yeah, easier," she said, popping open a cupboard to look inside before closing it again. Her brow furrowed a little in concentration while she made a small twisting gesture with her fingers before touching the door of the cupboard. There was a small pulse of light around the door, and when she opened it back up the contents had changed. "Here's the syrup," she said placing a jug of it on the counter. "I'm sure my sister's friend won't mind us raiding her pantry."
  8. Abby rolled her shoulder in a slight shrug. "You'd be surprised," she said, "Ritual magic is used fairly often by religions, and is easier to perform by those with undeveloped talent. Think of it as cloud computing, spreading out the load, but.. you know.. magic." "As for the stars," she continued, "some of them could be talking, or they could be acting as a relay for something else that's speaking. Stars are unfathomably old, and that sort of presence has a profound influence upon the tapestry of reality." Her lips twisted into a tiny frown, but it was gone quickly. "There are certain things in this Realm that I can't hear, being that I come from outside." She hesitated, then asked, "What are they saying?"
  9. Abigail wasn't quite scowling at her station, but she was annoyed enough with the task at hand that she almost missed Ryder's comment. She blinked, and cocked her head to the side as she looked up at him. "I may know some people," she said, letting her previous annoyance slide away and she favored him with a grin. "Agreed on the pancakes, layers and such. But what about cakes in general? They can layer too."
  10. "So, stars aren't inherently magical," Abby started. "But they, like nearly every other object, can influence it especially when you consider the great age of the stars and how that affects the tapestry of everything." "Of course," she continued, "if star itself is conscious or even just mere sentience, it is capable of utilizing magic. I mean, that's the basic criteria of magic and it can be taught to anyone." "However, how well one can use magic depends on a lot of variables and I'm kind of rambling, but if you ever want to get into the theory of this, and maybe learn a little yourself..."
  11. Abigail shook her head, but her expression turned thoughtful. "I'm not a religious person," she confided after a moment. "My mother has a few, um, cultist types in this realm that sours the whole enterprise for me." She paused, realized what she said and made a placating gesture that she realized, too late, was out of view of the camera. "Not that all religions are cults, just... I hope you get my meaning." "As far as learning magic, truth is there isn't much I need to learn. I've been using it to live and survive almost my entire life." She sighed, and then gave Judy a faint smile. "Mostly I've been learning how and when to not use magic."
  12. Abigail had released her phone as she made her way outside, a tiny spark of magic keeping it floating nearby and keeping the camera in frame. She settled into a chair, and paused briefly to listen to the crickets before answering. "My summer is.. complicated," Abigail said carefully. "There was more to being Mistress of this house than I realized. Truly I don't know how my fath-how Eldritch managed this. Then there's deciding on whether I return to Claremont or drop out." She paused a moment, squinted at the screen that showed Judy laying back, and then gave the other girl a warm smile. "Like what you did with your hair, by the way. Stylish and practical."
  13. ? Sure, give me 5 minutes. Abigail Storm was at her Father's—no her—Brownstone home, doing some "light" reading. Truth was though she'd stopped the actual reading a few hours ago and was just absently drawing in her sketchbook while her mind wandered. With a sigh, she stood from her desk and grabbed her phone, pausing as she got up and looked at what she had drawn. It was the silhouette of a figure, neither man nor woman, with an inhuman head and who's entire body was as if a field of stars. She frowned, brow furrowed in thought, before shoving it out of her mind and padding out to her back porch and away from whatever that was.
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