Heritage

Can I get an amen over here? Amen! I mean, a second approval? :P

There is a new light in Pitt's eyes as he enthusiastically grasps Jack's arm. "Excellent, my boy, excellent! You will need to bring me proof, of course; her head should suffice, I think." He practically dances his way over to the Victrola, where he removes the Louie Armstorng and replaces it with Fats Waller's "Ain't Misbehavin'", which he starts humming to himself as he stiffly sways to the music. "Ahh, it's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders! I'm a man of thirty again!"

Grim stands and turns, for a moment still covering herself, but her eyes are filled with sympathy. "Hey, no, look." She lets her hands drop to her sides. "I shouldn't have called you a freak; that was just plain mean." The young woman sighs and rocks back and forth on her heels. "Fact is, you seem like a real nice guy, but you are a guy; I don't know how your powers work, Venger didn't tell me anything, and I thought..." She can only shrug. "I thought the worst. Like, why would you even do that, right? If you were some skeezy guy, you wouldn't do it right in front of me. I'm such an idiot!" She scampers partway up the statue and lays a hand on Knight's leg. "Seriously, dude - I'm sorry." Grim smiles sheepishly. "So what exactly were you scanning for?"

Just so you know, AA, Krugerrands are gold alloyed with just a touch of copper, which makes them pretty darn hard!

Y'know what, let's just put this poor thread out of it's misery, what do you all say?

The blonde sorceress looks from one hero to the other, then smiles. "What, no takers on me mystical ghost train? Very well, I'm in room 1606 of the Plaza; I shall meet any o' you that cares to join me inside." And she disappears into a mote of bright light.

Grim nods distractedly. "Oh, okay. So what exactly-" She turns to see Knight staring intently at her with glowing eyes; she yelps, drops her box of fried rice to the ground, and crosses her arms across her chest protectively. "Hey, you freak! Just what exactly are you staring at?!" She drops lightly to the grass below, hardly making a sound as she lands, and then vanishes from sight...or rather, from normal sight; Wes can still sense what he did before she activated whatever cloaking power she employed. There's clearly life here, but not true human life, more of a copy or imitation, like some sort of mystical approximation of humanity. He had noted similar motes of energy around magical beings in the past, but Grimalkin seems to be another sort of creature entirely! Grim remains on the ground, hunched over in a near fetal position, trying to protect herself from view; at length, she speaks, her voice tinged with both annoyance and fear. "Whatever creepy power you're using on me, you better stop; I don't like people, y'know, studying me or whatever." She turns her head to peer back up at Wes on the statue, a hurt expression on her face but saying nothing more.

As Jack paints a frightening picture of possible events to come, the older vampire mutely clutches his head in his hands; it's clear he had no idea that the faerie girl was recruiting outside help. Pitt looks up, his eyes guarded. "You would still help me with this problem, even knowing how dangerous it would be? These do-gooders travel in packs, you know, like wild dogs hot on the scent! Surely you would need help in this matter, but then-" His face becomes clouded, and he gnaws on a knuckle, right down to the bone. "No one can know how far this has gone! The shame I would bear..." The weakened vampire reaches out to Jack, entreating him. "My very future is in your hands! Can I trust you? I hope I can. What would I give...?" He looks around the room, distracted, until his eyes settle on the fireplace and they brighten slightly and he rises with some difficulty to his feet. "You're still young, I know, so you still walk with one foot in the mortal world, especially you, Jack, being a daywalker. It's a phase you will grow out of in time, but there's no shame in it; we all had to crawl once, a long time ago." Tak tak tak tak... Pitt makes his way over to the fireplace and pulls a slender silver key out of his inside jacket pocket; it's more like a thin rod with small gears placed irregularly up and down its length. He is about to insert it into some hidden keyhole when she stops and peers over his shoulder at the younger vampire. "If you were going to kill me tonight, you already would have, but I will warn you nonetheless; I am old, but I have many friends, both in our world and the flickering parade of the mortals. Strike me down, and you will never rest for the remainder of your short existence on this Earth." He plunges the key into the gaping maw of a chimera, then turns it sharply to the right, releasing the front of the mantle to swing downwards on a hidden hinge. With shaking fingers, he withdraws an ornate box covered in pressed gold leaf from the exposed recess, and turns to place it on the mahogany table. "I could offer you many things, Jack: blood, from both my personal stocks, and from within the most delicate throats, pulsing just below the surface. A share in certain criminal enterprises that have allowed me to live in comfort for decades. Or, I can give you these-" He flips open the lid to reveal neat stacks of gold Krugerrands; the coins almost seem to glow of their own accord. Pitt smiles, as if giving a small boy an electric train set for Christmas, and he practically purrs when he speaks. "There are thirty-two Krugerrands in here, just a little 'mad money' I've held onto, in case of emergencies. Based on the current selling price, there is just over thirty thousand dollars in this box. Would you like it? Then it's yours...once you eliminate the girl."

Pitt returns the Slavonic toast, then murmurs appreciatively over the fine qualities of the blood. When Jack offers his help, the older man frowns. "'Termites'? To what do you- ahh, yes. The insect...and the girl." His tongue extends to the bottom of the narrow glass, a blue-black eel writhing as it extracts every last drop of the precious fluid. "Truly exquisite! I will have to see about getting a bottle for my own collection. As to the problems you describe..." He turns to gaze into the freakish blaze, the green fires dancing in the dark of his eyes. "Carmine, I can deal with; he's weak, rotten from the inside, like the filth he rummages through in the alley. I can have his family killed with a flick of my wrist, and he knows it. But the girl-" With blinding speed, he hurls the empty flute into the fire; it shatters into atoms, and there's an unearthly wail for a few moments before the surging flames die back down. Pitt paces in a circle, leaning heavily on his cane. "She's a filthy little whore; she's not even human! I can smell her, even up here! Can you? Like wilted flowers and rotten fruit!" The frail old man spins on his heel, and the fury in his face belies his apparent physical age. "She's a plague, Jack, and she's spreading; her detestable blend of 'pluck' and 'winsome charm' brings the blood up in my throat, but the little grubs downstairs eat the droppings up, and then they feel 'good about themselves'." Pitt lowers himself into the nearest black chair and goes back to staring into the fire. "I'm sick, you know that?" He leans his cane against the table, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Not from her, of course, but a hunter; got me three years ago this June." The suit coat and silk shirt are pulled away to reveal a putrid weeping wound in his torso, just below his left armpit. "I don't know what he did to the blade, but I'm less than half as strong as I used to be; time was, I could bend this like salt water taffy, and now look-" He grasps the iron-headed cane in both hands and exerts himself; his face is taught, and his arms tremble violently before he gasps and thrown the cane aside with a clatter. "I can't take her myself, Jack, or else I would have months ago! She was never a problem before, and then she left, but now that she's returned...I'm in hell! You have to help me, before she turns all of them against me. Because if she does...then I don't stand a chance." Pitt leans forward, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Help me, Jack; you can go places I can't, you can find her when she's the most vulnerable, and you can kill her. For me." He sags back into his chair, closes his eyes and sighs. "And I will be very appreciative."

Grim nods. "We do, we surely do, and nice jumpiness, by the way." She settles herself on one arm of the statue, her shapely legs dangling into space, then looks back down at all the foody goodness on the ground. "Uh, hmm. Food is down there....and I am up here..." She shrugs, motions like she's reaching into a pocket that is clearly not on her form-fitting costume, and pulls a nice fishing rod and reel out of thin air. "There we go!" Gnawing on her lip in concentration, Grim lowers the hook down to the feast below as she continues talking. "Yeah, so, business. Me and a bunch of other weirdos live this building, y'know, in the Fens? Ooh, I got a spring roll! Come to momma!" She rapidly reels in her prize, pops it in her mouth, and casts again. "Mmm, tasty! So there's this hooligan who runs the joint, and he's a real bad egg, know what I mean? One Mr. Pitt, and he is, in fact, the pits. Hold on a sec." After a few failed attempts, she bags the chicken fried rice, the waxed white cardboard container lazily spinning as it rises up through the cool night air; once she has it, she casually tosses the reel over her shoulder, and it promptly vanishes. She shovels the rice into her mouth with a spork (which came from where exactly?), and continues as she chews. "I don't know exactly what Pitt is; maybe some kinda robot, or a zombie guy assembled out of dead gangsters or something, but word on the street, or at least in the building, is that he ain't human, not in the strictest sense, y'know?" The slightly-built heroine, who must also have a way to make food disappear, stops to swallow. "And now I hear he's threatening my friends, which I don't like, and I think he needs to be stopped. I am just at the early stages of this thing, so we are definitely in the 'know thy enemy' phase, with me not knowing my enemy. Yet." She clutches the half empty box of rice and sighs. "Ahh! Nice night, huh? You get cold? I don't get cold, so I sometimes forget other folks get cold. I could make you like a scarf or an Elmer Fudd hat if you want."

Pitt purses his lips and nods. "Very well; it's been a while since I had a drop from Melinda's cellars." He gestures back to the doorway he came from, back towards the green glow. "Please, follow me. I have glasses in here." Tak tak tak tak... The dining room was dominated by a large black mahogany table, far too large to fit through either of the doorways into the room, with matching chairs of massive dimensions at either end, and a beautifully ornate china cabinet of the same wood stood against the back wall. Once inside the room, the source of the peculiar illumination became clear: a wide fireplace of pale marble, carved into the likeness of some ancient Roman temple. A single black log burned on the grate,looking rather disturbingly like the crude human effigies left in the ash by the eruption at Pompeii; wicked green flames danced in and out of the nooks and crannies of the log like eager kittens, giving it the eerie semblance of life. The Victrola by the china cabinet had reached the end of the record by the time the older vampire fetched a pair of champagne flutes; balancing his cane in the crook of his arm, he moved the needle back to the start. "There we are; forgive the indulgences of an older generation, but I cannot bear the primitive thrashing sounds of the current age." He offered his glass and nodded. "Now, what exactly do you wish to discuss, young man?"

Thanks for the references, both here and in the vampire culture thread. I made a slight edit to my first post for Pitt, for clarity's sake.

Grim nimbly jumps off the statue and lands lightly in front of the newcomer. "Hi, Grimalkin or just 'Grim'." She shakes his hand firmly, with some vigor. "Pleased to meet ya." The masked girl drops to a crouch and starts pulling steaming plastic and cardboard containers out of her messenger bag, and spreading them out at the base of the statue. "So, Knight, you hungry? I got some good Chinese here; egg fu yung, Mongolian beef, orange chicken...so, y'know, feel free to dig in. I've also got some black cherry wine coolers and a few cans of Coke."

There might have been a need for extra effort for the leap Grim just did; I'm tired and forgot she can only leap 12 feet straight up, not 25.

Grim's laughs easily. "What, that? That was me barely trying, dude! I worked all day and I feel like crap; you should see me on the rare days I'm well-rested!" She hops to her feet, dusts herself off, and then leaps high into the air, flipping over backwards and landing gracefully on top of Sergeant Shrapnel's head. The tiny heroine grins with her hands on her hips. "See? That's what I could do if I really had the energy; too bad I'm so darned pooped, huh?"

Tak tak tak tak... A small and somewhat frail looking man entered the room, his slender silver cane rapping sharply on the polished wooden floor. The head of the cane was dull black iron, forged in the shape of a lion's head, and he clutched it with pale, slender fingers. His dove-gray suit was clearly tailored but possibly as much as a century out of fashion, which means in a way it was almost hip again.The little hair he had ringed the top of his head, oily black and lacquered in place. His face was pinched, like an apple left out in the sun. Pitt smiled at the memory, but without much sincerity; his British accent is clipped and quite possibly fake. "Mmm, not much of an affair, was it? The most tired and worked over 'virgins' I've ever seen, with blood as bitter as soap." He sighed theatrically. "No one throws parties like they used to; Aleister and his lot were the last with any class..." Tak tak tak tak... He stopped in front of his visitor, leaning forward with both hands on the head of the cane, and smiled up into his youthful face. "What can I do for you, Jack?"

Ok, she's just a PL6 NPC now, and therefore awaiting approvals or any final edits.

Lynn pedaled her bike up 52nd, effortlessly weaving between the buses, taxis and pedestrians; Wednesday nights were fairly quiet this late, but Freedom never truly sleeps. In the messenger bag over her shoulder (turned inside out to hide the Fleet company logo) are several bags of decent Chinese food and a few drink options; no one ever remembers to bring food to these sort of things. I hope this guy likes Chinese. I'd be hate to be stuck with a ton of leftovers; that would be torture. She zipped into the park at the Hunter Street gate; she glided into a dark wooded patch away from the streetlamps, emerging on the other side in her 'working' clothes. A masked young woman on a bicycle is not the oddest thing you'll ever see in Freedom City, but it's not something you'll soon forget. At the Heroes Knoll, Grim skidded to stop, leaned her bike against the base of Sergeant Shrapnel's statue and plunked herself down to wait. After she dug out some veggie egg rolls and a wine cooler, she looked up at the Sergeant and raised her bottle in salute. "Thank you, Sarge; we'll never forget what you did for us over there."

This is the OOC thread for Wes and Grim's Liberty Park meeting; I'm assuming is Wednesday, April 8th, the night after 'Other Powers'.

For the most part, the penthouse was shrouded in darkness, not that it would impair Avenger's vampiric eyes; a strange green flickering glow seeped in from an adjacent room, but there were no bulbs in any of the light fixtures, no lamps or candles. No furniture offered the illusion of comfort here in the large living room, but the walls were decorated with a large collection of masks, a mixture of Asian, African and Native American designs, carved and painted in garish hues, all empty eye sockets and twisted grins. Off to the left, from the direction of the eerie green light, came the sound of Louis Armstrong and His Hot Five's 'Heebie Jeebies', crackling over a somewhat tinny speaker. "I got the heebies, I mean the jeebies, ... come on and do that dance they call the heebie jeebies dance!"

Ok, somehow completely missed the other posts folks made before I did my last one, so now I feel bad Not sure what to do now; do people want to keep this going for a bit longer, and actually have something cool happen? I can put Colby on hold for a while, I'm not in any hurry, really.

The old guy starts to turn away with his meal, but then stops himself. "Thanks for the grub, kid; it ain't easy out here these days, and it's nice to see that some of you young folk helping us out." He smiles, displaying a snargled mass of teeth behind his white beard. "You got family here in the city? Nothin' more important in the whole world than family."

Nice one-word Avenger impression at the end there, Sand :D

Grim converts 2 pp into Leaping 2; yippee! Sproiiiing! Done by Sandman XI

So, should we skip a day forward or something, or even start a new thread?