Gizmo
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Jill O'Cure Americhristmas - 3 Chitin Past & Future Tense - 1 GM Past & Future Tense - 1 Rollover and Ref Point can go to Chitin!
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Ari Rainshadow - 1 Guide Point = 1PP Dr Archeville Artificier - 0 posts + 1 Ref Point = 1PP Horrowshow - 1 post = 1PP EternalPhoenix Effigy - 1 Ref Point = 1PP Fox Eclipse - 1 post = 1PP Grim - 1 post = 1PP Nocturne - 1 post + 1 Ref Point = 2PP KnightDisciple Patrioteen - 1 Guide Point = 1PP MikeFCPBP Patriot - 1 Ref Point = 1PP MoonSimply La Puma - 6 posts = 1PP Nerdzul Nightscale - 6 posts = 1PP Spacefurry Chimera - 1 post = 1PP Paper - 8 + 1*2 GM = 10 posts = 2PP TheAbsurdist Jotunn - 1 Ref Point = 1PP Thevshi Multigirl - 3 posts + 1 Ref Point = 2PP Tiffany Korta Starshine - 1 post = 1PP Zhenshchina-voin - 1 Ref Point = 1PP trollthumper Cavalier - 1 Ref Point = 1PP -
Ellie followed Ashley's lead while ordering, giving the proprietor a broad, lopsided smile as he ushered them to their table. She noted the news segment with a glance but decided to steer away from politics given the occasion. "You don't need to go big with any of it, is all I mean," she continued an earlier thread of the conversation, reaching under the table to link fingers with her wife. "Everything online is going to say you need these flowers and this cocktail menu at the reception and some relative is going to have opinions about tradition all of the sudden and if they want to propose to their 'out-of-town' girlfriend they can do whatever they want. It's not like you've ever been about dressing up all ostentatious and giving speeches in front of a huge audience and you shouldn't have to fake it on a day that's supposed to be about the two of you." She paused. "Unless you want the princess gown and everyone you've ever met in attendance, in which case go off, queen, absolutely."
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"Aw, nostalgic," Ellie approved of the statuettes, turning one over in her hands and giving a little laugh at the explanation for its design. She stopped short when Ashely segued into her announcement. After a slow blink the young doctor's expression split into a broad grin. "Well @#$%, that's huge!" She set down the tchotchke to step closer and clap a hand on Ashley's shoulder. "Do you need help with the proposal or were you thinking more low key? You were never big on having an audience. Intimate is probably better anyway. What about location? Are you going to make her dinner? Our kitchen isn't huge but it's got more room than the boat if you want to borrow it."
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"Ahoy, Captain," Ellie deadpanned as she stepped aboard, giving a flourish that vaguely implied a salute. She overcorrected for the gentle rocking of the boat for a moment before years of gymnastic training and real world experience saved her balance and her pride. "This is great," she assured Ashley once they'd entered the main interior space of the vessel. "It's honestly wild that we don't know more people with houseboats. We're around a lot of people with big 'lives on a boat' energy." She handed off the cookie tin and gift bag so she could walk in an admittedly small circle to take in the living room, leaving Mara to accept the box Ashely presented in return. "This is how I know we're getting old, because I unironically love those throw pillows. I have throw pillow opinions now, Ashley. Hot throw pillow takes." The gift bag was surprisingly heavy and nestled in bright red and green tissue paper Ashely found a soft plush cat with cartoony smiling eyes, about the size of a dinner plate and almost as flat. It's weight shifted with the telltale sound of dried grains pouring as it was lifted and an attached tag explained that the pancake-esque calico was a saffron-scented reusable heating and cooling pad for soothing aches and pains. The cookie tin was also densely packed, a wild variety of homemade cookies grouped into several sandwich sized resealable bags for easy refrigeration and piled atop each other so that the lid barely stayed attached. "Yoyo and her cousins had a baking day with mi mama so if you like those for the love of all that's holy let me know so we can foist more of them off on you. I cannot overstate how many cookies we've been working though. Just an unconscionable number." Ellie picked up one of the mugs and noted the sports bar's logo while blowing gently across the steaming liquid. "Tell me again how you thought you were passing for straight...?"
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"And only being able to copy other people's cool @#$% is sort of a raw deal when you're a teenager," Ellie was explaining to her wife as they walked from where they'd parked Mara's own bike toward the marina. One arm was linked with Mara's at the elbow before her hand retreated to the warmth of her white puffer jacket's pocket white the other supported a small gift bag balanced atop a tin of cookies. "I dunno, maybe it would have been cool for some of the kids with weirder situations, like they'd have somebody to practice with or relate to about whatever but with the side-effects nobody was lining up to shake Ashley's hand, right? So she pretty much never used her powers at school and got a reputation for having big hall monitor energy." After a pause she rephrased to account for Mara's lack of high school experience. "Fun police, I mean. My point is it's kinda huge that she'd reach out at all and making friends as an adult is like pulling teeth so I just want it to go well. Do I seem nervous? 'Cause if I seem nervous she's going to think it's her fault." She huffed, breath hanging in the chilly air.
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One of Ryder’s eyes squinted briefly in a subtle wince as Wilona left the room but the small, silent shake of his head toward Luke was a little more obvious. Sending multiple people after the distressed girl wasn’t going to salve her wounded pride. He brought one hand closer to his oversized, novelty belt buckle, the one that looked to have started life as a printer ink cartridge, but reconsidered. Having one of the nearby Robugs keeps an unobtrusive eye on Wilona out in the hall wasn’t the worst idea but it seemed like it might require an awful lot of explanation and backpedaling if she noticed them. That did suggest a similar plan, though. He looked over toward Neko, trying to gauge the guarded time traveler’s reaction to the outburst. He’d seen her use her illusory cats in a similar way to his insect inventions but he knew she also had her own complicated feelings about wealth and having to adapt to a new environment. Probably better to let her decide what she wanted to do without any cajoling. Maybe the other cat-girl was a better idea; Carmen seemed like she’d be able to align with a little indignation in a reassuring way. Ryder just wasn’t sure how to suggest that without getting her hackles up as well. Which felt an awful lot like doing nothing but as Natalia liked to remind him he wasn’t necessarily the best person to solve every problem. Instead he gave a soft, disarming chuckle and leaned back to look over to Naomi’s table. “Ha, wow, paper cheques! You can get fun prints and stuff on those, yeah?”
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Ryder shifted around the table to move into the space between Jonah and the girls, not blocking anyone’s line of sight but ensuring that anyone would need to step around him to move into another’s personal space. “The cat people get to make the cat jokes, big guy, that’s the deal,” he advised with an easygoing smile in Carmen’s direction that implied the spray bottle gag was somehow more at Johan’s expense than her own and a casual wave of his hand that coincidentally wafted away any lingering scents. He did a poor job of stifling a laugh when Natalia corrected her own claims and was about to refocus the conversation in that direction when Neko’s offhand remark startled him enough to nearly stumble where he was leaning against the table. “Wait, what? Oh, no, I mean I can’t sell any of the stuff I make, it’s not even really safe to use—“ He caught a look from Nat. “—no, I mean, it’s fine for me to use! Mostly. Just, y’know, uh. ‘Rich’ sort of implies a level of exploitation beyond making ends meet, right? We should talk about that more than acceptable margins for personal injury, haha, yeah…?”
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Ryder started to reply but was interrupted by a muffled explosion of crumbling cement and creaking steel from back toward the front of the warehouse. “Mag, go camo and try to get a look,” the young inventor instructed, jogging across the room to put himself between the disturbance and Natalia and her grandfather without really thinking about it. “Yellow, see if you can get outside to—“ “Don’t bother, Professor Fujioka. I’m not planning to draw this out,” a clear alto voice called from the makeshift workshop’s entrance. The intruder was young, maybe only a year or two older than Ryder or Natalia, with dark skin in stark contrast with shock white hair starting to grow out of a buzz cut and a distinctive X-shaped scar on their jawline. Their clothes were a mishmash of layered pieces in blacks and greys punctuated by pops of neon green and pink, covered in patches, pins and tears. What drew Ryder’s attention, however, was the familiar chunky belt. “Aw jeez. Still super not a professor, yeah? Was kinda hoping you’d gone back to the future after the music festival.” His left hand hovered near his own belt buckle while the right was raised in an appeal for calm. Behind him the Robugs shifted nervously in place. “One-way trip,” Canister clarified, idly shaking the small red aerosol can in their hand with a metallic clacking. “Besides, you probably noticed the part where you’re not dead yet.”
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"People who need a mobility aid like maybe a wheelchair too, yeah?" Ryder asked, leaning back and turning to make eye contact with Wilona at her table. "You're better than them. 'In some ways,' of course! Folks with learning disabilities, the blind or deaf? Hey, the elderly! You can do loads of stuff they can't any more. That's 'better', isn't it?" He lifted both hands in a sort of apologetic gesture. "Not to call you out or anything, nobody thinks that's what you meant. But more capable, more powerful, privileged if we're using hashtags, that's all different from 'better'. When someone starts talking about being 'better' that's kind of a red flag. "Better' turns into a justification pretty quickly, historically."
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"Well, I'm just one guy but I'll alway try!" Ryder told Natalia in a dimpled aside before letting his expression dim a few degrees. "So, in the restaurant and bar business there's this, like, wisdom, I guess. Guy comes in to your place with some borderline Nazi punk patches on his jacket but he's being all polite and you don't want to make a scene so you let it go. And the guy keeps coming back and he never causes trouble while he's there and he turns into a regular. Then he starts bringing his buddy and that guy's being reasonable, too. And by the time one of their buddies starts being unreasonable you look around and realize you're running a Nazi bar, now." His mouth twisted in distaste, the expression looking a little alien on him. "I don't go in for slippery slope stuff but supremacist rhetoric is inherently violent, yeah? 'Wait and see' is not a viable option." He did a quick scan around the room and gave another self-aware shrug. "This friend might have a harder time paying off the meta-supremacist thing as no big deal to me specifically? If I've let a friend having a bad time get that far gone, though, I think I'd feel responsible for talking sense into them anyway. And maybe have a follow-up conversation with their club's leadership if they're hanging around." It was tough to say whether or not Ryder intended 'conversation' to be euphemistic or not.
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Ryder wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction. "Framing it as practicality versus morality is a trap, though. If it was actually practical places with the death penalty would have, like, zero crime!" He turned both palms upward, exasperated. "If you're going to kill the villain and everyone they might have told and everyone they might have told, it never stops. Morality barely event enters into it, it's just a bad solution!" It was pretty clear that Mr. Hawke was planning to move onto the next scenario but Ryder continued in his rapid cadence, crouching down to about chair height and lowering his voice slightly in a faint compromise. "If you can track down all the 'agents', you make them a better offer. Nobody works for the Conqueror Worm if they think they have another option! Problem solved, network dismantled, no unintended collateral." He made little waving motions with both hands that Natalia recognized meant Ryder felt like he was stating the obvious. "If you're doing definite, immediate harm to avoid risking possible future harm you can't act like that's the big bold tough guy play. Take the big swing and do it right." He glanced back up to the front of the classroom then quickly back down to the table, mumbling, "That's what I was getting at, anyway."
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"Jonah's got a good point," Ryder agreed encouragingly, walking over to the table from behind the lanky teen's seat and giving him a supportive clap on the shoulder. He didn't take a seat himself; it was enough of a challenge to contain his effervescent energy to a chair during a lecture and during a discussion his body language demanded more freedom. "We don't really have enough specifics to talk tactics. That's not really the point though, yeah? If we're approaching the prompt in good faith we have to assume there's a credible threat to hypothetical people we care about." He looked about the group for signs of agreement, running fingers through his strawberry blond bangs with a dimpled smile despite the grim topic. "So obviously you're going to think 'I'll just stop them from giving the order' but that's not putting the genie back in the bottle, is it? Intimidation's risky, panicky people are more likely to pull a trigger than not and threats aren't actually a great deterrent in practice. If they were we'd all be saying to let her go!" Ryder nodded to some of the other students who'd been quick to chime in with his usual friendly demeanour in recognition of their bravery in getting a thorny conversation started. "Broken jaws or burned hands heal eventually and even if you did something permanent they'd find a different way to communicate eventually plus if they didn't have, like, a personal vendetta against you before they sure would then!" The cheerful youth laced his fingers above his head in a stretch, rising up onto the toes of his paint splattered sneakers. "So if the plan is to force them not to make the call, you have to be to be talking about killing them, then and there, while they can't fight back." He shrugged with about as much gravitas as though he'd just suggested which take-out place to order from for lunch. "If that's off the table you need a different approach altogether. That's my thinking, anyway!"
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Set Sense Motive: 1d20+3 23 Sekhmet Sense Motive: 1d20+2 15
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"Um, excuse you," Set scoffed, casually taking a step to one side to get out of the way of Sekhmet's nimble dodge. "Tis but one failed god and one fetish streamer and both are me. Prolific and multitalented! Sekhmet hangs about mostly to romance dragons and Miss Neko tis a wholesome delight." The godling kept her hands curled in front of her like exaggerated paws while sauntering in a lazy circle so that Faster Pussycat couldn't keep both Sekhmet and herself in view simultaneously. She made no aggressive move but something about the singsong cadence of her voice made her irritatingly difficult to ignore. "Do you not consider yourself a fetish steamer? Imposter syndrome must be a terrible burden for you! Keep up your best efforts and surely you'll one day make it on Only Nyans! Ha, you see what I did there?" The other Heliopolian was considerably more to the point. Sekhmet's right fist erupted in golden flame as she pulled back before driving her fiery knuckles directly into the cat burglar's jaw with enough force to rattle bone. She made a move to grapple and pin Faster Pussycat with her other hand but stopped short and slid back a step instead as she noted that the abrasive thief wasn't as shaken by the blow as expected. Whatever power suffused her made her more resilient than her feckless attitude suggested. The warrior goddess sized up her opponent more carefully. "...why scribe a calendar on they garb?" "Right?! Your theming tis a dreadful mess. I appreciate Tura Satana as much as the next genderfluid sexpot but you wouldn't call the reference topical now would you!"
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Sekhmet Delaying until after Set. Set Standard Action: Feint Faster Pussycat: 1d20+16 32 Move Action: Taunt Faster Pussycat: 1d20+16-5 26 Set Up: Transfer benefits of Feint to Sekhmet Sekhmet Standard Action: Unarmed Attack vs Faster Pussycat; Power Attack 5: 1d20+7-5 6 Hero Point from Set: Unarmed Attack vs Faster Pussycat; Power Attack 5, HP Reroll: 1d20+7-5 15 That's a DC 27 Toughness Save, with solar fire descriptors and Affects Insubstantial 2 and Incurable if it's relevant! Reaction: Initiate Grapple vs Faster Pussycat: 1d20+16 20 (With Improved Grab)
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Set Initiative: 1d20+3 14 Sekhmet Initiative: 1d20+5 18
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Set clapped his hands in genuine, childlike delight when Neko unleashed her skin-crawling illusion. "Oh, classic! Love the pop of colour, too many default to black-on-black but one needs variation or the definition of the legs gets lost in the writhing mass." In her lioness form Sekhmet shifted from foot to foot and narrowed her eyes at arachnids disappearing under the door, less enthused. She stood back up to humanoid form when Faster Pussycat opened the door so that she could properly glare down her nose at the self-aggrandizing thief. "Thee desired adversarial attention, reprobate," the goddess growled, flexing the fingers of her hands one at a time where they hung at her sides. "What then do thee intend now tis gained?" In the tense atmosphere Set looked between the imposing Sekhmet, enthusiastic Neko and smug Pussycat before giving a harrumph and snapping his fingers, much as their young streamer had done. The godling's form shifted in a heartbeat to a feminine presentation, white linen bordered in blood orange wrapping itself around her chest and sandals lifting slightly with a kitten heel. Lacquered nails lengthened to sharper points to imply claws and a pair of feline ears sprouted atop her head, brick red at the base to match her dreadlocks and fading to black at the tips. After a moment of consideration she added a black ribbon collar with a scarab-shaped bell hanging against her clavicle. "Can-nya-t stand to be left out," she explained sotto voce to Neko, bouncing on her heels enough to produce a little jingle.
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"Aye, and an additional cat themed rejoinder," Set added largely to himself, just to feel included. "On the perils of curiosity or the finer points of recovering from a fall, mayhaps." The chaos deity followed a step behind Sekhmet as the taller goddess in turn followed Neko, fingers laced behind his brick red dreadlocks. Once the elevator reached the top floor Sekhmet dropped forward onto all fours, her form rippling on the way so that it was a lioness' claws that tapped softly against the hotel's flooring. Burning golden eyes narrowed as she stalked silently from door to door along the hallway, sniffing the air for anything out of place that might give away their quarry's location.
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"A hack!" Set answered immediately, pointing an accusatory finger into the air for emphasis. "Self-aggrandizing, artistically void, appropriative little--" "She seems as though familiar but I have no firsthand knowledge of the apparent thief," Sekhmet spoke over the tirade, putting one hand tipped by sharp, manicured nails to the side of the godling's head and pushing him to the side so she could better address Neko. "Though I remain unclear what offence 'Faster Pussycat' has made her ill manner bears address." Looking down at the girl her golden eyes glowed with an ember of internal flame while her lips parted in a thin, predatory smile. "Tell me what thee have seen, little sister and I will show thee how lionesses hunt."
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"Probably should have gone self-employed, then," LaMarr remarked mildly, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter in the posture Ashley had come to recognize as his 'real talk guidance councillor' body language. "If being the Patriot is just a job title then damn right better than half the turkeys out there don't think you deserve it and charitably, half of those, you're never going to change their minds. 'Cause you are the damn queer Patriot. And you're the lady Patriot. And the Vietnamese Patriot - alright, Vietnamese American, Louisianan, you know what I mean - and the meta Patriot and the short Patriot and whatever else and there's always going to be some joker who couldn't do the job for ten seconds who thinks one of those is the only reason you got the nod." He raised both hands in a broad shrug. "@#$% that guy. Which you already know. You're just hung up on the queer thing for the same reason you don't like using your powers where people can see: you got real good for a long time at ignoring those parts of you and passing 'cause you had enough visible stuff to deal with and that taught you to be ashamed. Not judging, that doesn't go away overnight, from experience. Just don't give me this 'less than' bull."
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"Of course one should announce a successful heist, tis a 'calling card', a staple of the form!" It didn't take long for Neko's sensitive hearing to pick up a familiar raised voice in the hubbub of the crowds. "But if the audience knows not what was stolen, what reason have they to care? Tis about panache not... cheap mystery box engagement!" The streaming teenager caught sight of Sekhmet first, the tall woman scanning the crowd over most of their heads while flatly ignoring the incensed ranting of the animated figure beside her. "And another thing! Who dons a salacious cat burglar motif and randomly tosses in a sex-shaming throwaway line as sendoff? Where be the internal consistency?! Anna would never." Set somehow extended the last word over several extra syllables while Sekhmet spotted Neko and made meaningful eye contact, dragging the offended godling along in her direction.
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"Haven't even been able to connect to my printer in months," LaMarr replied as he held the invitation at arms length where his aging eyes could better focus on it and waved in the direction of a bulky, light grey appliance at the end of a console desk. "Always been more for a 'march' than a 'parade' but I've done the marshal thing a time or two. Means a lot to a lot of people and I didn't hate being in a spot to tell cops to lose the uniform or @#$% off." He set the invitation down and looked over the the chair to gauge Ashely's reaction. The younger woman wasn't here to have someone pussyfoot around with her feelings and he was happy to show her that respect. "That what you're worried about?"
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Set made a strangled noise of distress in the back of their throat as Copycat skipped off to speak directly with Persephone, keeping a practiced smile in place rather than wincing as the disingenuous debutante presented their host with a suspicious souvenir. In fairness I would have given the pin a scarab design to be a literal 'bug' so glass houses, mayhaps, the godling silently admitted to themselves, studiously looking elsewhere into the milling crowds while keeping the interaction in the periphery of their vision. Skillfully using the selfie they'd just taken to backtrack to Copycat's social media account - mentally noting how they would optimize it for search engine results - Set tapped out a quick direct message before secreting their phone away once again: of course 'repayment' here may mean transmogrification into a thematically ironic pest species or that WAS a pass in which case mayhaps discuss a hall pass system with your absent partner??? endeavour not to die!! Feeling that should have fulfilled any moral obligation to warn their new friend away from dangers of espionage which she seemed to be familiar with already anyway, Set sashayed toward the catering to see if there was anything accommodating their dietary restrictions.
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Set arrived at the panel to which he'd been invited early enough to spend a bit of time taking photos and signing autographs for the attendees waiting in line then head backstage in the small theatre participate in the tech check. He may have been a deity of chaos and the unexpected but he was also a Ra-damned professional. Today that meant sitting in on a live table read for an episode of a comedy web series that reedited and dubbed over a popular anime from the early aughts. The show had a very liberally interpreted ancient Egyptian theme but was mostly about children competing in card game tournaments under increasingly dramatic and unlikely conditions; Set was primarily interested because it was a veritable goldmine of catchphrases and reaction images. For her part Sekhmet had made her disinterest in watching Set perform explicitly clear and said she would find a more palatable way to pass the time, such as staring unblinkingly at a blank wall. The lioness had not volunteered that one of the numerous television shows which she had consumed in its entirety thanks to a bounty of streaming service subscriptions was premiering the first episode of its upcoming season at the conventions and she determined to be in the audience. Certainly being a head or two taller than most of those in the crowds between rooms helped as she strode imperiously toward her goal, other attendees understandably hastening to get out of her way.