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  1. Wraith will auto-26 that one. Yay, Skill Mastery!
  2. "Ooh." That sounded like mischief, which sounded like fun. "I'm not going to say no to that, as long as it's not too hard. I can hide things myself, but it's kind of...." She made a gesture that would have been unhelpfully vague if it didn't legerdemain the coin from earlier back between her fingers. "You can't really sleight of hand with your ears, you know, and the magic's just...." The coin, now flat in her palm, shimmered and disappeared...as did a small portion of her palm. "....I'm working on it. A more high-tech way to listen to music when I'm really not supposed to would be pretty great!"
  3. Elizabeth wagged a recriminating finger, unswayed by the argument. "You have never had my mom's rowan berry jelly, or you wouldn't even think that. That jam would save the world, not doom it." The options were a larger consideration, and drew the full power of a furrowed white brow over the out-of-place sunglasses. "...probably flavors," she decided, shrugging. "Hovering's awesome and nitrogen's fancy but neither one makes the ice cream itself better? I am here to eat tasty ice cream. While listening to electro-swing," she added, wagging that finger again, "because I like a lot of things but I love that one so, so much. You?"
  4. "Probably not, surprises can be pretty great," said Elizabeth. Somehow maneuvering someone else into doing all the work had led to Elizabeth doing some of the work, but at this point she probably couldn't complain. At least it saved her from spending too much time being envious of Eira's hand-eye coordination - she didn't know what Eira's arms and hands were made out of, but oh the things she could do with a deck of cards and that speed. "But I guess it depends on the surprise? If the ice cream comes out tasking like rowan berries that'll be pretty neat, but you have to explain it in the presentation. If the ice cream comes out tasting like the downfall of modern civilization, that's not as neat and you still have to explain it in the presentation."
  5. "Obstinate reckless rebellion," Elizabeth declared in a posh British accent too real to not be an impression, too parodic to not be her own parents, and too proud to not be a teenager. She was, at least, grinning again. "It's...not that kind of magic. I am powered by a lovely old mask that lets me do a bunch of things, and apparently has the side-effect of saving me from illness - even if my own body's the one doing the illing. So, you know, upside is that I get to run and play with the other kids for about the first time in my life. Downside is that nobody knows how it works and we're pretty sure that if I get cut off or it runs out or something I just go back to being sick again." She shrugged, a cartoonishly exaggerated gesture that also saw her tip back into a normal seated position for normal human students. "Your super-battery is probably more reliable, but I'll take what I've got with a smile. How's the ice cream machine?"
  6. Elizabeth made a vague gesture with her head-knuckling hand. "I mean, they weren't wrong," she said, sighing her way back into an upright seated position, only to immediately flop backwards. She was keeping at least one eye on Eira's tinkering, but no more than that. "I joked about 'Elizabeth Grey syndrome', but I can't imagine having it actually named after you. Because, you know, clearly it didn't control enough of your life, right? That sounds awful and I think any parents who'd allow it would be awful too." She was silent, for a moment, before holding out a hand and conjuring a pair of blue circle-lensed sunglasses that had either come from thin air or John Lennon's wardrobe; she flicked them open and slid them on in some kind of strange solidarity. "You're doing pretty good, for heart failure. Scienced it out?"
  7. Elizabeth's face was impassive for a moment as she processed the question. "What was...?" Then her eyebrows raised and her body slumped, sinking toward the desk like someone had taken all the air out of her. "Aahh. I need to be careful what I say. Come on, Elizabeth...." Her hand was no longer really supporting her head, so it was free to make a fist and tap her skull in some kind of self-recrimination. "It's a bunch of obnoxious medical sciencey words that were basically 'Elizabeth Grey syndrome'," she said, voice quiet and bored and a little bit bitter. "Mostly an auto-immune thing that caused a lot of other problems too, because when your body's really busy eating itself it's not good for things like, you know, bone density, and healthy organs, and whatever. I don't think most people know. What gave me away?"
  8. Aside from a single joke about how one could possibly get milk from a nut, Elizabeth proved a decent understudy...even if the math behind moles and weights started to make her eyes glaze over. Edible chemistry, it seemed, was good chemistry, even for the less super of the scientists. "Everyone does like ice cream," she'd agreed. Eira's inquiry was odd enough to pop a white eyebrow, but she shrugged and answered easily enough. "No, we were already here," Liz said, eyeing the ice cream bag as if she could will it to be ready faster. "They were pretty happy to send me here, but before that I got a mix of other schools and home school. They came over for work and some medical stuff, mostly. You?"
  9. Gather Information DC 10: Elizabeth Grey is a teenage girl currently attending Claremont Academy. Her family is not terribly notable, though both parents are lawyers and that comes with the usual baggage. She has several older brothers, none of them noteworthy in any special regard. DC 15: Elizabeth's family isn't native to Freedom City, or even America - they immigrated some time ago from England, citing job opportunities and pursuing medical treatment for their daughter. DC 20: Elizabeth was victim in a museum heist in 2017, though at the family's request her identity was kept from the press; she was taken hostage by a super villain, but apparently managed to hide away in a security cage to foil his plans. The villain was neither identified nor captured. DC 25 + requires access to medical records: Elizabeth's medical history is concerning and somewhat curious: she was very, very sick growing up, and her family invested a great deal of time and money into her health (including at least one experimental treatment that likely explains her white hair). That investment stops a few years ago, when an suddenly hale and hearty Elizabeth Grey gets a clean bill of health in a Claremont admissions checkup. Knowledge: Arcane Lore DC 15: Masque's mask seems to be the focal point of her power, though it does seem tightly bound to its owner, as artifacts are wont to do. The abilities it manifests are reminiscent of a number of old fables and mythological creatures; it doesn't seem to channel a great deal of raw power, but what it has is used very efficiently. DC 25: The Trickster's Mask is an old artifact indeed, and one that - appropriate to its name and nature - actively resist proper study and analysis, leave it a footnote in most reputable tomes and scrolls. It binds to one user at a time, for the duration of their natural life span, offering a grab bag of abilities and magics normally seen in the hands of various trickster spirits and icons from the far corners of the globe. It seems selective about its owners, and will often lay dormant for decades or centuries between sightings. DC 30: In the old, decaying notes of a mage best known for investigation into the creation & replication of artifacts, a couple pages on the Trickster's Mask might be found. Heavily damaged, scratched out & torn away as if in frustration, the remaining scraps of information read as follows: "--ver trap for a --" "--spect or entire soul of the subjects--" "--gotiation or voluntary, but unlikely in--" This is followed by a full-page sketch of the mask in its better-known 'asleep' form, with a quick note scrawled beneath: "Too many, uncontrollable, absolutely mad to even try. As likely to blow up in your face as not. Deeply unethical, discarding notes immediately."
  10. That was not the ideal reaction, but Elizabeth would take it. "I don't see why not!" she said, deliberately ignoring the reasons she could see why not. Her eyes were grey, suited to her name, and full of a distressing amount of mischief. "I would have to know what you've done, though, if I want to give a good presentation. So even if I'm just walking the mistress of science do her thing, you'll have to walk me through it as we go." She dropped her head into one hand, the other waving their little lab pamphlet in mock enthusiasm. "Probably in paper-people words and not super-Swedish-science-tablet-people words, though. I do fine in my classes but chemistry's not really my thing."
  11. Elizabeth only grinned wider; she'd paused briefly at both the literal and metaphorical coldness of the handshake, but hadn't commented, instead pulling a coin out of what may as well have been thin air, rolling it across her fingers as they talked. "I'd love to have some fancy tablets, but I sure wouldn't want to pay for it! I bet half of 'em would be broken before class was out, you know? It'd be great, though, even then. Worth it." She started leafing through the lab with her free hand, grimacing at the work asked of them. "We are in high school; the people who wrote these probably think we're children. But you're, what, the super-science type that could do this all without help, just to prove something?"
  12. Wraith watched the scene not from the ground, but from up the side of the temple - she'd flattened herself against a surface shadow, trading her normally-smooth silver for a dull, matte shade reminiscent of iron and patina'd copper. Letting her copper oxidize itched, and she looked forward to scraping it off, but for now it broke up her profile and with the help of the shade she was just this side of invisible. It was a good perch; she could watch the Deep One below, listen to the temple behind, and if there was a sudden change in the latter she could come down on the former like the metaphorical sack of human hammers. ...probably. Three black eyes slid across her body to eye the temple and her would-be quarry. Water was complicated; she might have to push off pretty hard to get to him in time. She would have to hope that Daphne could handle it.
  13. "I mean, I don't blame it for being dumb, it got beaten to a pulp!" A teenage girl slid into the chair next to Eira, short white hair flopping over one eye as she sat with her head in one hand, and the other offered for a shake. "Elizabeth Grey!" she said she said, smiling cheerfully. "I am from America, but it was originally England, so it's spelled the right way 'round, with an 'e'." She was wearing a smart white blouse over black pants and an absolute minimum of other decorations, save for a very odd little mask charm hanging from a silver bracelet. "I am probably going to do terrible things to the pronunciation of your full name if I try to use it, and I'm really very sorry about that in advance. Forgive me?"
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