Heritage

Lynn's stomach knots itself into a fist of rage and nausea as the injured describe the source of their suffering; the stories of the women in particular stab her heart like ice needles. When at last she finds the power to speak, her words are choked with anger.

"Who....which gang? Who did this?"

She can hear blood rushing in her ears, and feel her claws sprouting involuntarily as she clenches her fists under the table, biting into the flesh of her palms.

"Um, hey everyone. Ya got a minute?"

Oh thank God - I can't hope to kill them all by myself. :evil:

'Linda' attempts to catch Nightrival's eye with a nod of her head, letting him know that she is here and more than ready.

"Wow," he said. "You look... yeah, wow's good."

Ren gave her an apprasing look and grinned sheepishly. "You changed your hair. I... I kinda forgot you could do that. Benefits of being a shapeshifter, I guess."

Lynn grins and self-consciously runs a hand through her hair. "Thanks. Yeah, I only changed it about eighty times trying to find the best look." She then does a little appraising of her own, and nods appreciatively. "You're looking pretty 'wow' yourself, buster; I like the jacket."

"Oh!" Ren reached into his bomber jacket and produced a small black cat Beanie Baby, complete with a witch's hat. "You have no idea how hard it is to find those things. You'd think they were the cure for some horrible disease or something. I think this one was left over from Halloween."

"So... do you like it?" he asked anxiously.

She takes the small plush toy and turns it over a few times in her hands; at first, it's hard to tell what her reaction is, but finally she starts nodding very slightly, as if to herself, until she lifts her eyes up, showing just a bit of sparkle in the corners. Her smile is oddly crumpled, but very sincere.

"This...is wonderful."

She pulls it to her chest and tucks it up under her chin.

"When I was a kid, we all got into Pokemon, y'know? And then we made Mom rent all this anime from Blockbuster, and my all-time favorite one was Kiki's Delivery Service; I wanted a Jiji doll so bad, the little black cat she had, but you had to order them from Japan, so we never got one."

Lynn holds the Beanie at arm's length and smiles.

"So this will be my Jiji."

She suddenly stands on tiptoe and pulls Ren's head down to kiss him on the cheek, and then just rests her forehead against the side of his face for a few moments.

"I love it; thank you."

The tiny heroine suddenly pulls away, wiping her nose with the edge of her hand before digging in her bag. "Of course, this totally blows my little Valentine out of the water, but oh well." She finally thrusts a piece of slick paper folded into quarters into Ren's hand. "All the cards at Walgreen's were lame, so finally I stopped by Kinko's and just made my own."

The front of the card features a color picture of Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons and a word bubble that says, "The Leprechaun tells me to light fires!"; inside is the caption, "And to 'bee' your Valentine!" It's signed 'Love, Lynn' and there's a happy dancing stick figure skeleton. Lynn scrunches up her face and shrugs. "I'm not sure about the accuracy of the quotes, but the sentiment's the same. Still kinda lame, I know."

"Wow," he said. "You look... yeah, wow's good."

Ren gave her an apprasing look and grinned sheepishly. "You changed your hair. I... I kinda forgot you could do that. Benefits of being a shapeshifter, I guess."

Lynn grins and self-consciously runs a hand through her hair. "Thanks. Yeah, I only changed it about eighty times trying to find the best look." She then does a little appraising of her own, and nods appreciatively. "You're looking pretty 'wow' yourself, buster; I like the jacket."

"Oh!" Ren reached into his bomber jacket and produced a small black cat Beanie Baby, complete with a witch's hat. "You have no idea how hard it is to find those things. You'd think they were the cure for some horrible disease or something. I think this one was left over from Halloween."

"So... do you like it?" he asked anxiously.

She takes the small plush toy and turns it over a few times in her hands; at first, it's hard to tell what her reaction is, but finally she starts nodding very slightly, as if to herself, until she lifts her eyes up, showing just a bit of sparkle in the corners. Her smile is oddly crumpled, but very sincere.

"This...is wonderful."

She pulls it to her chest and tucks it up under her chin.

"When I was a kid, we all got into Pokemon, y'know? And then we made Mom rent all this anime from Blockbuster, and my all-time favorite one was Kiki's Delivery Service; I wanted a Jiji doll so bad, the little black cat she had, but you had to order them from Japan, so we never got one."

Lynn holds the Beanie at arm's length and smiles.

"So this will be my Jiji."

She suddenly stands on tiptoe and pulls Ren's head down to kiss him on the cheek, and then just rests her forehead against the side of his face for a few moments.

"I love it; thank you."

The tiny heroine suddenly pulls away, wiping her nose with the edge of her hand before digging in her bag. "Of course, this totally blows my little Valentine out of the water, but oh well." She finally thrusts a piece of slick paper folded into quarters into Ren's hand. "All the cards at Walgreen's were lame, so finally I stopped by Kinko's and just made my own."

The front of the card features a color picture of Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons and a word bubble that says, "The Leprechaun tells me to light fires!"; inside is the caption, "And to 'bee' your Valentine!" It's signed 'Love, Lynn' and there's a happy dancing stick figure skeleton. Lynn scrunches up her face and shrugs. "I'm not sure about the accuracy of the quotes, but the sentiment's the same. Still kinda lame, I know."

No, I just thought he'd be going along with, sans armor.

Ok, you are probably right, so I can adjust it.

No, I just thought he'd be going along with, sans armor.

Ok, you are probably right, so I can adjust it.

Yeah, he totally doesn't see me.

Lynn learned long ago that short brunettes really don't stand out in a crowd, and the fact that Ren's gaze had scanned right past her was further proof of this maxim; she decides that dignity is nice but not terribly useful, and procedes to jump up and down while waving her arms and screaming like a manaic.

"Ren! Reeeennnnn! I! Am over! Here!"

Yeah, he totally doesn't see me.

Lynn learned long ago that short brunettes really don't stand out in a crowd, and the fact that Ren's gaze had scanned right past her was further proof of this maxim; she decides that dignity is nice but not terribly useful, and procedes to jump up and down while waving her arms and screaming like a manaic.

"Ren! Reeeennnnn! I! Am over! Here!"

I'm currently working on two other NPCs. I can't commit at the moment.

I will design these two fine people, and add the shelter to the appropriate thread :)

I'm currently working on two other NPCs. I can't commit at the moment.

I will design these two fine people, and add the shelter to the appropriate thread :)

Tonight, however, Grim noticed a slight difference in the large number of people in the shelter. Most were dirty as usual, but Grim could see a lot more bruises than usual. A small group of people had gathered at one of the tables, their heads bent close together. Within that group alone, half of the people seemed to sport some kind of recent injury.

Frowning, Lynn excuses herself and picks up her tray, then makes her way over to the heavily injured table.

"Hi, do you mind if I join you?"

She takes a seat and studies the faces of those around her; yep, these were the signs of violence, she was sure of it. After forcing down some more of her dinner (it wasn't all that bad, but her heightened smell did weird things to the taste of processed meat), she clears her throat and indicates a swollen eye with her fork.

"Forgive me for prying, but what happened to your face? To all your faces?"

Tonight, however, Grim noticed a slight difference in the large number of people in the shelter. Most were dirty as usual, but Grim could see a lot more bruises than usual. A small group of people had gathered at one of the tables, their heads bent close together. Within that group alone, half of the people seemed to sport some kind of recent injury.

Frowning, Lynn excuses herself and picks up her tray, then makes her way over to the heavily injured table.

"Hi, do you mind if I join you?"

She takes a seat and studies the faces of those around her; yep, these were the signs of violence, she was sure of it. After forcing down some more of her dinner (it wasn't all that bad, but her heightened smell did weird things to the taste of processed meat), she clears her throat and indicates a swollen eye with her fork.

"Forgive me for prying, but what happened to your face? To all your faces?"

I'm confused. Ren isn't going with Sean and Lynn?

Ok, maybe I misread the last two posts, but what I got was Mr. Parker saying, "Sean can take care of her, you would have to bring your suit with you to make her as safe as my son could" and Ren agreeing so as to not offend his hosts; was I comepletly wrong in my interpretation?

I'm confused. Ren isn't going with Sean and Lynn?

Ok, maybe I misread the last two posts, but what I got was Mr. Parker saying, "Sean can take care of her, you would have to bring your suit with you to make her as safe as my son could" and Ren agreeing so as to not offend his hosts; was I comepletly wrong in my interpretation?

The great thing about being a shapeshifter going on a date is you have an infinite number of looks to choose from; the bad thing is...the infinite number of looks part. Lynn spent the better part of the afternoon standing in front of the dusty full-length mirror leaning up against the wall of her squat, trying to come up with a cool outfit as well as figure out what to do with her hair. At first, she thought about doing something crazy, just to see how Ren would react; she went through various tans and skin tones, every eye color known to man, gave herself more curves, a bit more height, then a lot more height, until she gave herself a headache.

Just go with what you know he likes, dummy; maybe later on, if things are going smoothly, you can play around if he seems to like that.

Once she settled on just being herself, the agony continued for another hour and a half, and even then it was only brought to a halt by feline intervention.

"Alright, I'll feed you little monsters, stop your cryin'!"

She'd opted to name her three cats by randomly picking words out of an old dictionary, since she couldn't settle on any, and ended up with 'Drawbridge', 'Mafia' and 'Plaque'. She was tempted to pick again, but that would be defeating the point of the exercise; her one concession to practicality was to shorten Drawbridge down to 'DB' for casual use, though curiously she often lengthened Plaque to 'Plaque Attack'. While the cats gobbled up their food, her hair morphed through a number of looks (up, down, long, sleek, frizzy, bob, lulu) and a few colors until she was finally satisfied.

If he doesn't notice I'm wearing my hair long, I will bop him with a scone or other baked good.

After memorizing the look to the best of her ability, Lynn shifted into a more practical set of climbing duds, made sure the cats had plenty of water and checked all the windows for drafts, slipped out the window, crawled down the face of the Imperator and at last headed for the monorail...

It is now 5:53, and Lynn is standing under the Meadow Street station waiting for Ren; she checks her look for the hundredth time in the window of the Monorail Cafe, and wishes for the thousandth time she owned a watch as she cranes her neck to see the clock inside over the counter. She'd tried waiting in a booth but had gotten too antsy, and since the cold doesn't bother her she opted instead to stand around like an idiot in the street. The art school kids with their black plastic frame glasses amble past her, messenger bags over their shoulders and smelling of Lucky Strikes and patchouli.

I really hope we have a good time tonight; temporal distortions have a way of creating false intimacy, at least according to Dr. Phil.

The great thing about being a shapeshifter going on a date is you have an infinite number of looks to choose from; the bad thing is...the infinite number of looks part. Lynn spent the better part of the afternoon standing in front of the dusty full-length mirror leaning up against the wall of her squat, trying to come up with a cool outfit as well as figure out what to do with her hair. At first, she thought about doing something crazy, just to see how Ren would react; she went through various tans and skin tones, every eye color known to man, gave herself more curves, a bit more height, then a lot more height, until she gave herself a headache.

Just go with what you know he likes, dummy; maybe later on, if things are going smoothly, you can play around if he seems to like that.

Once she settled on just being herself, the agony continued for another hour and a half, and even then it was only brought to a halt by feline intervention.

"Alright, I'll feed you little monsters, stop your cryin'!"

She'd opted to name her three cats by randomly picking words out of an old dictionary, since she couldn't settle on any, and ended up with 'Drawbridge', 'Mafia' and 'Plaque'. She was tempted to pick again, but that would be defeating the point of the exercise; her one concession to practicality was to shorten Drawbridge down to 'DB' for casual use, though curiously she often lengthened Plaque to 'Plaque Attack'. While the cats gobbled up their food, her hair morphed through a number of looks (up, down, long, sleek, frizzy, bob, lulu) and a few colors until she was finally satisfied.

If he doesn't notice I'm wearing my hair long, I will bop him with a scone or other baked good.

After memorizing the look to the best of her ability, Lynn shifted into a more practical set of climbing duds, made sure the cats had plenty of water and checked all the windows for drafts, slipped out the window, crawled down the face of the Imperator and at last headed for the monorail...

It is now 5:53, and Lynn is standing under the Meadow Street station waiting for Ren; she checks her look for the hundredth time in the window of the Monorail Cafe, and wishes for the thousandth time she owned a watch as she cranes her neck to see the clock inside over the counter. She'd tried waiting in a booth but had gotten too antsy, and since the cold doesn't bother her she opted instead to stand around like an idiot in the street. The art school kids with their black plastic frame glasses amble past her, messenger bags over their shoulders and smelling of Lucky Strikes and patchouli.

I really hope we have a good time tonight; temporal distortions have a way of creating false intimacy, at least according to Dr. Phil.

"Phew. Thank you again, Mary. That was good," he says. He looks over to Grimalkin. "Did you want to go see your uncle now? Sean can take you over there." He glances over to Nanowire. "Sorry Roboman, but it can be a little unsafe for a young woman out after dark these days, and I don't think that suit of yours would fit in the shop."

"Um..." Lynn purses her lips in thought; the idea that she needs the protection of a guy her age with no powers rankles her a bit, but she tries to put it all in perspective.

It's a different world you're in now, kiddo - roll with the punches, for now.

At last, she sighs and nods her head. "Ok, sure." She excuses herself from the table, asks where the bathroom is, washes up and returns to the rest of the group; Lynn offers Ren a reassuring smile, then turns back to Sean, hands in the pockets of her velour coat.

"You guys ready?"

"Phew. Thank you again, Mary. That was good," he says. He looks over to Grimalkin. "Did you want to go see your uncle now? Sean can take you over there." He glances over to Nanowire. "Sorry Roboman, but it can be a little unsafe for a young woman out after dark these days, and I don't think that suit of yours would fit in the shop."

"Um..." Lynn purses her lips in thought; the idea that she needs the protection of a guy her age with no powers rankles her a bit, but she tries to put it all in perspective.

It's a different world you're in now, kiddo - roll with the punches, for now.

At last, she sighs and nods her head. "Ok, sure." She excuses herself from the table, asks where the bathroom is, washes up and returns to the rest of the group; Lynn offers Ren a reassuring smile, then turns back to Sean, hands in the pockets of her velour coat.

"You guys ready?"

I forgot to include in my attack roll that I'm using the Takedown Attack feat if Nightrival knocks out the goon. :oops:

Exactly which goon are you taking on? We need some numbers, man!

And here's my crappy Initiative roll, if you need it.

I forgot to include in my attack roll that I'm using the Takedown Attack feat if Nightrival knocks out the goon. :oops:

Exactly which goon are you taking on? We need some numbers, man!

And here's my crappy Initiative roll, if you need it.

Well considering I never saw that the thread was made.....

I'll look into getting things started tonight I hope. So expect some fun to happen soon.

I knew I should have PMed you; my bad. Looking forward to whatever you unleash!

Well considering I never saw that the thread was made.....

I'll look into getting things started tonight I hope. So expect some fun to happen soon.

I knew I should have PMed you; my bad. Looking forward to whatever you unleash!

Well considering I never saw that the thread was made.....

I'll look into getting things started tonight I hope. So expect some fun to happen soon.

I knew I should have PMed you; my bad. Looking forward to whatever you unleash!

'Linda' was seen more and more around the shelter, maybe once or twice a week, and she always had a friendly word for Father Jim and Sister Claire, who's gumbo was just as good as Nightrival said it was. Sometimes she even helped with the food service; thankfully she was a lot cleaner than most of the other homeless who came in night after cold winter night, so no one complained. Sometimes Nightrival would show up and they would head out the back exit; everyone assumed she was giving him tips, things she heard on the street. And when he didn't show, she would smile, push the hair out of her eyes, wash up and grab an apron...

Grim was hoping he would show tonight; she'd been itching for a fight all day, ever since 11 o' clock that morning when some suit had told her to 'get a job or go home'. She had a snowball firmly packed and ready to fly before you could say 'misdemeanor', but she let it fall to the ground, determined to imagine his fat stupid face on the head of every thug she trounced tonight. As she sat at the crowded table contemplating her tray of 'turkey loaf', she steepled her fingers in mock villainy.

Tonight, vengeance...will be mine!

'Linda' was seen more and more around the shelter, maybe once or twice a week, and she always had a friendly word for Father Jim and Sister Claire, who's gumbo was just as good as Nightrival said it was. Sometimes she even helped with the food service; thankfully she was a lot cleaner than most of the other homeless who came in night after cold winter night, so no one complained. Sometimes Nightrival would show up and they would head out the back exit; everyone assumed she was giving him tips, things she heard on the street. And when he didn't show, she would smile, push the hair out of her eyes, wash up and grab an apron...

Grim was hoping he would show tonight; she'd been itching for a fight all day, ever since 11 o' clock that morning when some suit had told her to 'get a job or go home'. She had a snowball firmly packed and ready to fly before you could say 'misdemeanor', but she let it fall to the ground, determined to imagine his fat stupid face on the head of every thug she trounced tonight. As she sat at the crowded table contemplating her tray of 'turkey loaf', she steepled her fingers in mock villainy.

Tonight, vengeance...will be mine!

'Linda' was seen more and more around the shelter, maybe once or twice a week, and she always had a friendly word for Father Jim and Sister Claire, who's gumbo was just as good as Nightrival said it was. Sometimes she even helped with the food service; thankfully she was a lot cleaner than most of the other homeless who came in night after cold winter night, so no one complained. Sometimes Nightrival would show up and they would head out the back exit; everyone assumed she was giving him tips, things she heard on the street. And when he didn't show, she would smile, push the hair out of her eyes, wash up and grab an apron...

Grim was hoping he would show tonight; she'd been itching for a fight all day, ever since 11 o' clock that morning when some suit had told her to 'get a job or go home'. She had a snowball firmly packed and ready to fly before you could say 'misdemeanor', but she let it fall to the ground, determined to imagine his fat stupid face on the head of every thug she trounced tonight. As she sat at the crowded table contemplating her tray of 'turkey loaf', she steepled her fingers in mock villainy.

Tonight, vengeance...will be mine!