Heritage

Hmm, maybe we should focus on the first part of this, since Icarus is developing the prison-y part. Any takers on the heist portion of this concept?

"Now I turn it over to you again. How'd you stumble into crime fighting? The way you made it sound, you started off as a mean n' nasty villain type."

This makes Lynn laugh, unfortunately just as she's taking a big gulp of her malt, which apparently goes up her nose; after much spluttering and napkin usage, she regains most of her composure, though some giggles remain.

'"Mean and nasty?' Hardly; well maybe mean, but mostly 'selfish and petty'. The first thing I started did was go into a fancy restaurant, order a huge meal, and then disappear without paying."

She laughs and wiggles her finger in a menacing fashion.

"Ooh, how diabolical! I did that for about a month, never hitting the same place twice; I was always nice to the waiters, asked lots of questions, and actually kind of learned a lot, y'know about food and who waiters are nice to, that sort of thing."

The former bad girl chews another bite of her club, and then points at Ren's steak. "Can I try some of that? You can have a bite outta mine; the veggie bacon is pretty tasty, actually."

After food has been exchanged, she continues. "After that got boring, I started hanging out in nightclubs, getting free drinks and, um, meeting people." She holds up her hands. "I know what you're thinkin', but I was always careful; I didn't want to ruin all this with any, y'know, complications."

Now she sighs and looks down at her plate. "And then it hit me, my great scam: I would set up lots of free internet accounts under different identities, join all the online dating services I could, and then started looking for marks." Lynn rolls her eyes and looks of into space. "Petty and horrible; I targeted rich guys, went out on a date of two, maybe more, and then as soon as we ended up at their place, I would slip out of bed, rob them while they slept and make my escape. A few times I would take credit cards, but mostly I grabbed cash and small valuables; sometimes I would leave the building disguised as the guy so I could leave with like a nice CD player or something. I used fences all over town, different faces and whatnot, and made a nice amount of cash."

She buries her face in her hands, clearly ashamed. "I didn't always rob them, like if they were nice and all; a few I dated for a month or two, sometimes at the same time, and one I was with for six months." She takes her face out of her hands and looks a bit wistful. "His name was Terry; I think he would have married me if I let him, but I knew I was bad news, so I cut out before he had a chance."

There is clearly a lot of regret here, and it takes Lynn a while to regain her focus. "Oh, so fighting crime; right around the holidays, I'm on a date with a nice-ish guy, not Terry-nice, but he'll do, and we've just seen a show north of Broadway, not far from my place in the Fens; we're on our way to this jazz club or something, when I hear this, y'know, struggle off in the alley. Nice Guy can't hear it, he's got normal hearing, but I insist we check it out."

The memory is obviously uncomfortable, and it takes a while for her to get to the next part; Lynn starts twisting a napkin into all kinds of random shapes.

"He follows me down the alley, cellphone in hand, as I follow the sounds, and we round a corner and this guy is...forcing himself on this girl, and he's got his hand over her mouth, so only someone like me can hear her. He's holding a knife-" Lynn takes her knife off the table and holds it to her own throat. "Like this, with his free hand, and his pants are down-" A pause of several seconds, eyes shut tightly to keep the images back. "Nice Guy panics, and he screams...the knife-"

She drops her own knife and covers her eyes with her hands. "God, why are all my stories so horrible?" She laughs a bit, wipes her eyes and shakes her head. "The psycho runs, I try to chase him, but Nice Guy grabs me, and I almost rip off his head for that. 'This is a job for the police,' he says, and calls 911 on his phone." Lynn laughs bitterly. "The police show up, and they're next to useless, and clearly don't care all that much about a dead hooker; I try to describe how the guy smells, which was really distinct, some sort of imported aftershave, and they look at me like I'm nuts. 'Go home,' they say."

Her voice goes cold as steel. "I went home, alright, after I found Mr. Aftershave." She takes a few moments to compose herself, then gives Rena weird sickly grin. “So, another fun story from the adventures of Grim.†She pops another fry into her mouth and chews it noisily. “So, you and crime; how’d that happen?â€Â

"Now I turn it over to you again. How'd you stumble into crime fighting? The way you made it sound, you started off as a mean n' nasty villain type."

This makes Lynn laugh, unfortunately just as she's taking a big gulp of her malt, which apparently goes up her nose; after much spluttering and napkin usage, she regains most of her composure, though some giggles remain.

'"Mean and nasty?' Hardly; well maybe mean, but mostly 'selfish and petty'. The first thing I started did was go into a fancy restaurant, order a huge meal, and then disappear without paying."

She laughs and wiggles her finger in a menacing fashion.

"Ooh, how diabolical! I did that for about a month, never hitting the same place twice; I was always nice to the waiters, asked lots of questions, and actually kind of learned a lot, y'know about food and who waiters are nice to, that sort of thing."

The former bad girl chews another bite of her club, and then points at Ren's steak. "Can I try some of that? You can have a bite outta mine; the veggie bacon is pretty tasty, actually."

After food has been exchanged, she continues. "After that got boring, I started hanging out in nightclubs, getting free drinks and, um, meeting people." She holds up her hands. "I know what you're thinkin', but I was always careful; I didn't want to ruin all this with any, y'know, complications."

Now she sighs and looks down at her plate. "And then it hit me, my great scam: I would set up lots of free internet accounts under different identities, join all the online dating services I could, and then started looking for marks." Lynn rolls her eyes and looks of into space. "Petty and horrible; I targeted rich guys, went out on a date of two, maybe more, and then as soon as we ended up at their place, I would slip out of bed, rob them while they slept and make my escape. A few times I would take credit cards, but mostly I grabbed cash and small valuables; sometimes I would leave the building disguised as the guy so I could leave with like a nice CD player or something. I used fences all over town, different faces and whatnot, and made a nice amount of cash."

She buries her face in her hands, clearly ashamed. "I didn't always rob them, like if they were nice and all; a few I dated for a month or two, sometimes at the same time, and one I was with for six months." She takes her face out of her hands and looks a bit wistful. "His name was Terry; I think he would have married me if I let him, but I knew I was bad news, so I cut out before he had a chance."

There is clearly a lot of regret here, and it takes Lynn a while to regain her focus. "Oh, so fighting crime; right around the holidays, I'm on a date with a nice-ish guy, not Terry-nice, but he'll do, and we've just seen a show north of Broadway, not far from my place in the Fens; we're on our way to this jazz club or something, when I hear this, y'know, struggle off in the alley. Nice Guy can't hear it, he's got normal hearing, but I insist we check it out."

The memory is obviously uncomfortable, and it takes a while for her to get to the next part; Lynn starts twisting a napkin into all kinds of random shapes.

"He follows me down the alley, cellphone in hand, as I follow the sounds, and we round a corner and this guy is...forcing himself on this girl, and he's got his hand over her mouth, so only someone like me can hear her. He's holding a knife-" Lynn takes her knife off the table and holds it to her own throat. "Like this, with his free hand, and his pants are down-" A pause of several seconds, eyes shut tightly to keep the images back. "Nice Guy panics, and he screams...the knife-"

She drops her own knife and covers her eyes with her hands. "God, why are all my stories so horrible?" She laughs a bit, wipes her eyes and shakes her head. "The psycho runs, I try to chase him, but Nice Guy grabs me, and I almost rip off his head for that. 'This is a job for the police,' he says, and calls 911 on his phone." Lynn laughs bitterly. "The police show up, and they're next to useless, and clearly don't care all that much about a dead hooker; I try to describe how the guy smells, which was really distinct, some sort of imported aftershave, and they look at me like I'm nuts. 'Go home,' they say."

Her voice goes cold as steel. "I went home, alright, after I found Mr. Aftershave." She takes a few moments to compose herself, then gives Rena weird sickly grin. “So, another fun story from the adventures of Grim.†She pops another fry into her mouth and chews it noisily. “So, you and crime; how’d that happen?â€Â

Did anyone watch the Lunar eclipse tonight? It looks like it's just about over from my little corner of the globe.

Pretty neat stuff. Even better if you get to watch with a friend.

Detals here.

Got to see it real well here in Chicago; it looks so...Biblical! :o

Did anyone watch the Lunar eclipse tonight? It looks like it's just about over from my little corner of the globe.

Pretty neat stuff. Even better if you get to watch with a friend.

Detals here.

Got to see it real well here in Chicago; it looks so...Biblical! :o

Had a long vaguely terrible night, too tired to post, but here's my crappy Reflex save, followed by my awesome Toughness save - yay!

Had a long vaguely terrible night, too tired to post, but here's my crappy Reflex save, followed by my awesome Toughness save - yay!

The rain started coming down harder, the pattering against the glass and street becoming more insistent. "I took everything I had and left. It wasn't... I guess I wasn't thinking beyond getting away. Maybe it wasn't even because of the machine thing. Maybe I just wanted to leave. But afterwards... well, it was too late. I was on he run for destroying part of the building."

Lynn reaches across the table and gives Ren's hand a little squeeze. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad about your happy childhood; the important thing is, you ended up a basketcase, like me." She gives him a goofy smile. "I can't stand happy, well-adjusted people; they give me the creeps." She shudders and makes a face.

Finally the food arrived, and Ren cut off his speech while the waitress laid out Lynn's club sandwich and his steak. He managed a genuine smile and thanked her, then looked back at Lynn. "There's... there's more than that, but I'm kinda hungry." A lie. "You mind if we brighten up the mood some?"

"I want to know about your powers," he said with a grin while cutting up his steak. "I mean, does it feel weird, shifting about like that?"

She takes a big bite out of her club, chews it thoughtfully, then shrugs as she speaks with her mouth full. "You know, you'd think it would be, but it's not." She swallows and looks apologetic. "Sorry. No, it feels like breathing, like I could always do it. The first morning, after...whatever happened to me, I wake up in the alley buck naked, no ID, no nothing; it's the middle of winter, and I feel fine. Now, once I realize this is not one of those nightmares you sometimes have about being naked in public, I scramble into a dark corner, desperately wishing I had some clothes, and then 'poof!", they appear! Exactly the clothes I had on when I crawled into the alley that night."

She takes a big sip of her malt, then wipes her mouth before continuing.

"So now, I go from having only the clothes I have on my back to having any outfit I want, like I was given a magic MasterCard or something. Here, check this out." She grins mischievously as she starts to unbutton her coat. "You're gonna like this." When she opens her coat, she is now wearing a black T-shirt, nearly identical to the one Ren's wearing, except it says 'Vigilantes Do It In The Dark'; she laughs and shakes her head. "I mean, isn't that frickin' awesome? The money I save on laundry alone makes it the best birthday gift ever."

She gobbles up a few fries, then points at Ren with one of them.

"So what's the craziest thing you ever did with your powers? Nothing horrible, just, y'know, weird or bizzare."

The rain started coming down harder, the pattering against the glass and street becoming more insistent. "I took everything I had and left. It wasn't... I guess I wasn't thinking beyond getting away. Maybe it wasn't even because of the machine thing. Maybe I just wanted to leave. But afterwards... well, it was too late. I was on he run for destroying part of the building."

Lynn reaches across the table and gives Ren's hand a little squeeze. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad about your happy childhood; the important thing is, you ended up a basketcase, like me." She gives him a goofy smile. "I can't stand happy, well-adjusted people; they give me the creeps." She shudders and makes a face.

Finally the food arrived, and Ren cut off his speech while the waitress laid out Lynn's club sandwich and his steak. He managed a genuine smile and thanked her, then looked back at Lynn. "There's... there's more than that, but I'm kinda hungry." A lie. "You mind if we brighten up the mood some?"

"I want to know about your powers," he said with a grin while cutting up his steak. "I mean, does it feel weird, shifting about like that?"

She takes a big bite out of her club, chews it thoughtfully, then shrugs as she speaks with her mouth full. "You know, you'd think it would be, but it's not." She swallows and looks apologetic. "Sorry. No, it feels like breathing, like I could always do it. The first morning, after...whatever happened to me, I wake up in the alley buck naked, no ID, no nothing; it's the middle of winter, and I feel fine. Now, once I realize this is not one of those nightmares you sometimes have about being naked in public, I scramble into a dark corner, desperately wishing I had some clothes, and then 'poof!", they appear! Exactly the clothes I had on when I crawled into the alley that night."

She takes a big sip of her malt, then wipes her mouth before continuing.

"So now, I go from having only the clothes I have on my back to having any outfit I want, like I was given a magic MasterCard or something. Here, check this out." She grins mischievously as she starts to unbutton her coat. "You're gonna like this." When she opens her coat, she is now wearing a black T-shirt, nearly identical to the one Ren's wearing, except it says 'Vigilantes Do It In The Dark'; she laughs and shakes her head. "I mean, isn't that frickin' awesome? The money I save on laundry alone makes it the best birthday gift ever."

She gobbles up a few fries, then points at Ren with one of them.

"So what's the craziest thing you ever did with your powers? Nothing horrible, just, y'know, weird or bizzare."

Hi gang! So Red Queen is all ready to go, but I said I would have her in prison in time to meet Icarus wants he gets sent to Blackstone - what to do?

The answer is a job that goes south, possibly involving fiendish betrayal; nareik suggested in the thread an art heist (something RQ does a lot) and a corrupt politician, either as the collector or the target. Queenie is pretty much a merc, so I want to get her involved with at least one of the PC baddies in town.

Any takers to run this doomed mission?

Hi gang! So Red Queen is all ready to go, but I said I would have her in prison in time to meet Icarus wants he gets sent to Blackstone - what to do?

The answer is a job that goes south, possibly involving fiendish betrayal; nareik suggested in the thread an art heist (something RQ does a lot) and a corrupt politician, either as the collector or the target. Queenie is pretty much a merc, so I want to get her involved with at least one of the PC baddies in town.

Any takers to run this doomed mission?

Lynn'"Okay, but it's your turn now. Tell me who you are, and don't leave out any details," he finished with a wry grin.

"Oh, is that how it is?" Lynn attempts to hide behind her coffee cup, but as small as she is, she's still too big; she takes a sip and puts it down, slouches down a bit in her seat and places her hands on the table, arms spread wide.

"Okay, so, me in a nutshell. Born June 17, 1988 in Ventnor City, New Jersey. My family belonged to Congregation Beth Judah, a nice Conservative temple, even after we moved out of Ventnor and into the boonies. I have an older brother Ben, who is almost five years older than me, and a sister named Eddi who is three years older. Ben went to NYU law school and lives in New York; Eddi got knocked up by her abusive ex-boyfriend, and now lives with her baby in the same trailer park as my mom and dad.'

She drums on the table with her palms and looks out the window.

"What else, what else...oh, my dad was a forklift operator at this warehouse, and one day a whole rack of pallets collapsed, crushing his spine and leaving him just short of paralyzed."

Lynn holds her water glass between her hands, rolling it back and forth with her palms as she watches the water ripple.

"Five operations later, he can barely walk with a cane and is pretty much addicted to painkillers; we lose the house due to medical bills, and end up moving out to Tilton Terrace, a really crappy trailer park out by the Atlantic City Airport."

She looks up into Ren's face, her own a mixture of nostalgia, humor and pain.

"Not very good for the sleeping, y'know? Pretty much need to have headphones on if you want to catch any winks; if someone broke your headphones, it was a big deal. That was a declaration of war."

The waitress comes by and freshens up the coffee; Lynn thanks her, adds a ton more sugar and half-and-half, and continues.

"So after we move out to Tilton, life sucks; I can't even begin to describe it. Ben is totally focused on his schoolwork, determined to just get the hell out of there. Eddi decides to become the world's biggest slut; I think she could have gone pro if she had the right trainer."

Lynn stops and looks out the window for what seems like a really long time.

"Me, I get mouthy; that kinda thing gets you hit. A lot."

She turns back to Ren, and her tears get caught in the headlights of a passing cab; she's smiling, but it's not the healthy kind, more like a grimace.

"No one gets to see the scars, unless I let them."

She starts to hold out her right arm, stops herself, and then after a few seconds holds it out again, resting in on the table like a medical specimen. First the sleeve of her coat melts away into thin gray vapor, and then the scars blossom on her unmarked pale skin like stains spreading through a towel: jagged lines of shiny pink, tight clusters of cigarette burns, and near the crook of her elbow, a maze of needle marks. Almost as soon as they manifest, they disappear back into the milky smoothness like drowned islands of pain. Her sleeve reappears and she snatches back her arm, and holds herself tightly.

"That's all you get for today." After a few moments, she relaxes a bit, and even smiles as she wipes her tears away. "Okay, enough melodrama, I went on way too long; back to you now."

Lynn'"Okay, but it's your turn now. Tell me who you are, and don't leave out any details," he finished with a wry grin.

"Oh, is that how it is?" Lynn attempts to hide behind her coffee cup, but as small as she is, she's still too big; she takes a sip and puts it down, slouches down a bit in her seat and places her hands on the table, arms spread wide.

"Okay, so, me in a nutshell. Born June 17, 1988 in Ventnor City, New Jersey. My family belonged to Congregation Beth Judah, a nice Conservative temple, even after we moved out of Ventnor and into the boonies. I have an older brother Ben, who is almost five years older than me, and a sister named Eddi who is three years older. Ben went to NYU law school and lives in New York; Eddi got knocked up by her abusive ex-boyfriend, and now lives with her baby in the same trailer park as my mom and dad.'

She drums on the table with her palms and looks out the window.

"What else, what else...oh, my dad was a forklift operator at this warehouse, and one day a whole rack of pallets collapsed, crushing his spine and leaving him just short of paralyzed."

Lynn holds her water glass between her hands, rolling it back and forth with her palms as she watches the water ripple.

"Five operations later, he can barely walk with a cane and is pretty much addicted to painkillers; we lose the house due to medical bills, and end up moving out to Tilton Terrace, a really crappy trailer park out by the Atlantic City Airport."

She looks up into Ren's face, her own a mixture of nostalgia, humor and pain.

"Not very good for the sleeping, y'know? Pretty much need to have headphones on if you want to catch any winks; if someone broke your headphones, it was a big deal. That was a declaration of war."

The waitress comes by and freshens up the coffee; Lynn thanks her, adds a ton more sugar and half-and-half, and continues.

"So after we move out to Tilton, life sucks; I can't even begin to describe it. Ben is totally focused on his schoolwork, determined to just get the hell out of there. Eddi decides to become the world's biggest slut; I think she could have gone pro if she had the right trainer."

Lynn stops and looks out the window for what seems like a really long time.

"Me, I get mouthy; that kinda thing gets you hit. A lot."

She turns back to Ren, and her tears get caught in the headlights of a passing cab; she's smiling, but it's not the healthy kind, more like a grimace.

"No one gets to see the scars, unless I let them."

She starts to hold out her right arm, stops herself, and then after a few seconds holds it out again, resting in on the table like a medical specimen. First the sleeve of her coat melts away into thin gray vapor, and then the scars blossom on her unmarked pale skin like stains spreading through a towel: jagged lines of shiny pink, tight clusters of cigarette burns, and near the crook of her elbow, a maze of needle marks. Almost as soon as they manifest, they disappear back into the milky smoothness like drowned islands of pain. Her sleeve reappears and she snatches back her arm, and holds herself tightly.

"That's all you get for today." After a few moments, she relaxes a bit, and even smiles as she wipes her tears away. "Okay, enough melodrama, I went on way too long; back to you now."

Well, assuming there is still going to be a Gen Con :shock: I'll be going. Already made my hotel reservations and bought my 4-day ticket. Odds are I will be spending most, if not all of my time in the RPGA room (still a D&D junkie at heart).

From what I've read, GenCon will go as plan, as it's one of the best ways for them to generate money. It is kinda nice to see that Lucasfilm takes its charity stuff seriously.

Well, assuming there is still going to be a Gen Con :shock: I'll be going. Already made my hotel reservations and bought my 4-day ticket. Odds are I will be spending most, if not all of my time in the RPGA room (still a D&D junkie at heart).

From what I've read, GenCon will go as plan, as it's one of the best ways for them to generate money. It is kinda nice to see that Lucasfilm takes its charity stuff seriously.

"Sounds like a plan. See ya in five."

Lynn nods and makes her way out to the alley; once she's sure the coast is clear, her body is obscured by the familiar gray mist, leaving in its wake the form of Grimalkin. She easily scales the roof and joins her battered yet determined mentor; she approaches him, and there is none of her usual humor in her voice when she speaks, just heartache and barely restrained rage.

"Okay, I need to say something right now, and I don't know how you're gonna feel about it, but it needs to be said: I want to kill these guys. I don't want to just beat 'em up and leave 'em for the cops, so they can get lawyers and be out back on the street doing this **** again. I want them in the ground, and I want them to stay that way. I am willing to settle for crippled for life as a compromise, but that's as reasonable as I'm gonna get on this one."

Her entire body is shaking by the time she finishes talking, and blood is trickling out of her clenched fists.

"Sounds like a plan. See ya in five."

Lynn nods and makes her way out to the alley; once she's sure the coast is clear, her body is obscured by the familiar gray mist, leaving in its wake the form of Grimalkin. She easily scales the roof and joins her battered yet determined mentor; she approaches him, and there is none of her usual humor in her voice when she speaks, just heartache and barely restrained rage.

"Okay, I need to say something right now, and I don't know how you're gonna feel about it, but it needs to be said: I want to kill these guys. I don't want to just beat 'em up and leave 'em for the cops, so they can get lawyers and be out back on the street doing this **** again. I want them in the ground, and I want them to stay that way. I am willing to settle for crippled for life as a compromise, but that's as reasonable as I'm gonna get on this one."

Her entire body is shaking by the time she finishes talking, and blood is trickling out of her clenched fists.

He holds open the door for Lynn and Ren to head in before him. If they dally, he says, "Come on; you don't want to let all the cold air in."

Lynn tentatively steps through the door into the shop, and the feeling is hard to describe; deja vu doesn't cover it, and technically it's sort of the direct opposite. She has seen this place many times before, but never like this.

Silberman's Books is not a large shop, or at least you wouldn't think so from the outside; several years ago Louis Silberman quietly bought the storefront next to his, knocked down the connecting wall in a few places, and expanded his shop almost double. There are books everywhere, in shelves made in a wide variety of woods and sizes that line the walls and stand in tidy clusters; the few bare patches of wall are covered in signed black-and-white photos in elegant frames, vintage movie one-sheets and large posters for magic shows from the dawn of the Twentieth Century. Carter, Blackstone, Thurston and Houdini are all well-represented, as well as more obscure illusionists like Kellar and Long Tack Sam, and advertisements from exotic-sounding firms like 'Martinka & Co." and 'Wo and Shade' offer tricks like 'The Vanishing Lamp' and 'The Levitation of Princess Karnack' for sale. The long wooden counter with the antique cash register (He used to let me play with that) is nearly obscured under an array of plastic tubs and cardboard boxes filled with trick card decks, interlocking rings and plastic wands.

The smell is the same (maybe a little less dusty), but the patina of age she remembers from her childhood isn't there, or at least it hasn't truly settled in yet. The posters are brighter and less sun-faded, the shelves better organized, and the boxes full of old comics and Harris magazines aren't piled quite as high or haphazardly as she recalls. However, the almost primordial sense of 'Grandpa' is almost overwhelming; she can smell his hair tonic, hear the crackle of his old transistor radio playing swing music and the ticking of the mantel clock in the back room. Lynn gets a little light-headed, and clings tightly to Ren's arm as spontaneous tears pour down her cheeks; her voice is just above a whisper when she speaks.

"My god...it's really him."

He holds open the door for Lynn and Ren to head in before him. If they dally, he says, "Come on; you don't want to let all the cold air in."

Lynn tentatively steps through the door into the shop, and the feeling is hard to describe; deja vu doesn't cover it, and technically it's sort of the direct opposite. She has seen this place many times before, but never like this.

Silberman's Books is not a large shop, or at least you wouldn't think so from the outside; several years ago Louis Silberman quietly bought the storefront next to his, knocked down the connecting wall in a few places, and expanded his shop almost double. There are books everywhere, in shelves made in a wide variety of woods and sizes that line the walls and stand in tidy clusters; the few bare patches of wall are covered in signed black-and-white photos in elegant frames, vintage movie one-sheets and large posters for magic shows from the dawn of the Twentieth Century. Carter, Blackstone, Thurston and Houdini are all well-represented, as well as more obscure illusionists like Kellar and Long Tack Sam, and advertisements from exotic-sounding firms like 'Martinka & Co." and 'Wo and Shade' offer tricks like 'The Vanishing Lamp' and 'The Levitation of Princess Karnack' for sale. The long wooden counter with the antique cash register (He used to let me play with that) is nearly obscured under an array of plastic tubs and cardboard boxes filled with trick card decks, interlocking rings and plastic wands.

The smell is the same (maybe a little less dusty), but the patina of age she remembers from her childhood isn't there, or at least it hasn't truly settled in yet. The posters are brighter and less sun-faded, the shelves better organized, and the boxes full of old comics and Harris magazines aren't piled quite as high or haphazardly as she recalls. However, the almost primordial sense of 'Grandpa' is almost overwhelming; she can smell his hair tonic, hear the crackle of his old transistor radio playing swing music and the ticking of the mantel clock in the back room. Lynn gets a little light-headed, and clings tightly to Ren's arm as spontaneous tears pour down her cheeks; her voice is just above a whisper when she speaks.

"My god...it's really him."

"But speaking of eating, I think I already made us late enough, so..." He held out the crook of his arm for her to take and pointed at the Monorail Cafe. "Shall we?"

Lynn takes his arm and holds her head like a 'proper lady.' "We shall!" Her posture is erect, and she holds her left hand out with the wrist slightly bent as she continues in the same upper crust accent. "Ah, Mr. Sonada, you rally know how to show a young lady a night on the town." But she can't keep up it up forever, and finally doubles over and laughs in her hand as they enter the cafe. The hostess tells them to sit anywhere, and Lynn picks a booth by the window that looks out on Meadow Street; it's a little cooler by the window, but neither teenager seems to mind.

The cafe is decorated to evoke the Golden Age of passenger travel, with sleek chrome and deep red leather used throughout. Art Deco murals of trains, dirigibles and steamships help convey the boundless enthusiasm America once had mass transportation, and the menu is no different; Lynn orders the 20th Century Limited Club made with veggie bacon, with cole slaw and fries on the side and a large chocolate malt, but adds a cup of hot joe for starters. Once Ren has placed his order, she leans across the table and whispers.

"The weird thing is, I was a really good crook for the better part of last year; I was making money hand over fist." She snaps her fingers with a flick of a wrist. "Setting up marks and knocking them down." She shrugs and sinks back into the red leather. "Sad to say, my first instinct once I got my powers was to rip off rich guys. Now, I'm almost as bad a crimefighter as you are a crook." She raises up her water glass once the busboy sets them out. "To doing the right thing, no matter how much you suck!"

"But speaking of eating, I think I already made us late enough, so..." He held out the crook of his arm for her to take and pointed at the Monorail Cafe. "Shall we?"

Lynn takes his arm and holds her head like a 'proper lady.' "We shall!" Her posture is erect, and she holds her left hand out with the wrist slightly bent as she continues in the same upper crust accent. "Ah, Mr. Sonada, you rally know how to show a young lady a night on the town." But she can't keep up it up forever, and finally doubles over and laughs in her hand as they enter the cafe. The hostess tells them to sit anywhere, and Lynn picks a booth by the window that looks out on Meadow Street; it's a little cooler by the window, but neither teenager seems to mind.

The cafe is decorated to evoke the Golden Age of passenger travel, with sleek chrome and deep red leather used throughout. Art Deco murals of trains, dirigibles and steamships help convey the boundless enthusiasm America once had mass transportation, and the menu is no different; Lynn orders the 20th Century Limited Club made with veggie bacon, with cole slaw and fries on the side and a large chocolate malt, but adds a cup of hot joe for starters. Once Ren has placed his order, she leans across the table and whispers.

"The weird thing is, I was a really good crook for the better part of last year; I was making money hand over fist." She snaps her fingers with a flick of a wrist. "Setting up marks and knocking them down." She shrugs and sinks back into the red leather. "Sad to say, my first instinct once I got my powers was to rip off rich guys. Now, I'm almost as bad a crimefighter as you are a crook." She raises up her water glass once the busboy sets them out. "To doing the right thing, no matter how much you suck!"

As she swings his arm while they walk, Lynn grows somewhat thoughtful.

"I hope you like my, y'know, my uncle; visiting his shop was my favorite part of our trips to FC. We came every summer for Memorial Day weekend, and Ben and Eddi, my brother and sister? They just wanted to ride the monorail all day long; me, I wanted to eat Italian ice and look at all the books and old magic tricks in Louie's shop. He's super cool."

She stops suddenly and looks up at Ren with wide eyes. "You're going to meet someone in my family!" Then her surprise turns into a mischievious grin. "Y'know, meeting a girl's family is a biiiig step in a relationship; I heard that on 'Ask Dr. Love'."

As she swings his arm while they walk, Lynn grows somewhat thoughtful.

"I hope you like my, y'know, my uncle; visiting his shop was my favorite part of our trips to FC. We came every summer for Memorial Day weekend, and Ben and Eddi, my brother and sister? They just wanted to ride the monorail all day long; me, I wanted to eat Italian ice and look at all the books and old magic tricks in Louie's shop. He's super cool."

She stops suddenly and looks up at Ren with wide eyes. "You're going to meet someone in my family!" Then her surprise turns into a mischievious grin. "Y'know, meeting a girl's family is a biiiig step in a relationship; I heard that on 'Ask Dr. Love'."

"I'm alright. Sister Claire's got enough on 'er plate, so to speak. You ready ta do some patrollin'? We can trade notes while we check out the 'hood."

'Linda' nods and gestures towards the back door. "After you, Mr. Rival; I'll change out in the alley."

"I'm alright. Sister Claire's got enough on 'er plate, so to speak. You ready ta do some patrollin'? We can trade notes while we check out the 'hood."

'Linda' nods and gestures towards the back door. "After you, Mr. Rival; I'll change out in the alley."