trollthumper
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Cavalier ducked away, not so much guiding Roulette as hoping he was following in his footsteps. When he got the confirmation he was, he spoke. "Look, I... I hope you don't mind me dumping out my baggage on you, it's just... of everyone here, you and I... well, the thing at the Iridium Shore... I feel like you're the only one here I know enough. Even if our paths kinda break off real fast each time. I..." He paused. "I was stuck out here. Not here, particularly. The Cloud. The Large Magellanic Cloud. Five years. I wasn't even a castaway, like these guys. I was grabbed off of Earth by some... beings with sharp instruments and interesting ideas on where to stick them. I got out of that situation fast, but I spent five years stranded a galaxy over, with no idea on how to get back to the Milky Way. No idea if I'd see my planet again. No idea if I'd see my family again. I finally got back. Finally found my home again. And now..." He shook his head. "There's a way out of this. I know there has to be. Some sort of loophole in this goddamn bootstrap paradox that no one's had the chance to dart through yet. But if there's not... I can't stand the idea that I got out of one of these clusterfraggs, defeated the possibility that I'd die out in the void without my family ever knowing what really happened to me... only for it to happen all over again. So, if I'm going all alpha dog and trying to keep people like Bliss from going off script... well..." He let the thought trail off. Fortunately, before he could think on what to say next, Aquaria interrupted the awkward silence. "Hear you loud and clear, Aquaria. What's up?"
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Cannonade nodded as Miras vanished downwards. Usually, if he wanted to do that, it would involve a whole lot of holes kicked in floors and a whole lot of bills settled afterwards. So he decided to take the bathroom window instead. After breaking his fall in the gentlest way possible, he traded a look with Miras, getting the subtle cue for their patrol approach. He took to the skies instantly, only to just as quickly settle on the rooftops. This way, he could get the best look of the blackout area and figure out just where the distress lay. Of course, that also meant going on top of the buildings. And the problem with hot air was that it naturally rose. He remembered reading somewhere that the first form of air conditioning was being rich enough to get a small aqueduct running through your basement. So being as far from that kind of basement as possible felt like a bad idea. But he'd dealt with worse. It was all a matter of priorities.
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Here we go: 10 # 12 [1d20=12] 11 [1d20=11] 3 [1d20=3] 7 [1d20=7] 15 [1d20=15] 2 [1d20=2] 12 [1d20=12] 6 [1d20=6] 4 [1d20=4] 6 [1d20=6] Hmm. This will be interesting.
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Archived at player request.
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Samantha nodded. "You may enter," she said, pushing the steel security door open behind her. "I can also offer you coffee, for those of you who drink it. For those who don't... well, tea, I guess." The group entered to find what they expected of a shelter in Bedlam. Unlike the ones that were likely tax dodges and little else, this one seemed to be making an effort. Actual furniture, a not-obsolete television, and a full book case formed something of a rec area off in the corner. Individual sat at long tables, either eating from prepared meals or picking at pastries. Some of the pastries looked like day-olds, most likely donations. "We do what we can here," she said. "Some days, it seems like everything rolls downhill, but we've got a good barrier to keep it from rolling over us. Everyone here deserves a chance. We know what people think of this city - the last thing we want to do is give that reputation teeth. But every so often, we get a case that's..." She took a deep breath. "We have some private bedrooms, off from the main shelter. For those who come to us with specialized needs. They may be detoxing and need a place to come down. One time, we got a positive diagnosis for TB and had to quarantine while health services took their sweet time getting here. But Mr. Alande --" "Uh, Sam?" Behind Sam, a slim woman of Middle Eastern descent had crept up. "It happened again." "What? I thought we had him loaded up..." "He, uh... he hasn't woken up, as far as we can tell. It just started... happening." Sam broke off in a deliberate march towards the room, waiting for the rest of the group to follow. When they got to the room, she cracked the door slightly, so that they could take a look in - perhaps without letting something out. The walls were plain, but with a clock and calendar for frame of reference. A small bed lay in the center of the room, the sheets bundled and almost tossed aside. A man lay on the bed, fully clothed, his beat-up combat boots at the foot of the bed. He looked to be in his mid-30s, but with his long hair, beard, and sun-cracked face, it was hard to tell. He was sleeping like a baby, seemingly dead to the world. But the floors... on the floor, in colors that looked remarkably like dried blood, lay what looked like an occult sigil. Around it, scribbled in a scratchy hand, were words in a language that definitely wasn't English. "So, all..." Samantha gestured to the writings. "...this happened while I was out?" "Yes, ma'am," said her assistant. "I swear, I just turned away for a minute, and then it was... done."
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This was not his place. Joe knew what was likely happening. He'd seen it before. The white power concert with the fake UN superteam and the dead Aryan pop star. The far-right speaker who "conveniently" got stabbed in the throat by a mind-controlled kart vendor in Amsterdam. He knew this was a setup. But he wasn't the person to scream that out. Not yet. He was the person who had to try to keep the peace. He didn't want to speak over Asli. Not yet. This was her concert, this was her place. She seemed to be doing a good job keeping everyone calm, and he knew his position as "the big white dude you can trust" wouldn't exactly help here. So there was just the waiting. That goddamn waiting. He walked nearer to Asli's tables and gave her the eye and hand signals they'd perfected after months of nightly patrols together. Keeping eyes peeled. Making sure all clear. Got your back.
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Joe sighed. "Sounds about right," he said. "Man, of all the days to want to stay inside, bask in air conditioning, and not deal with a crisis." He reached for the duffel bag he'd brought along just in case. "But, you're right. We should probably get going. Make sure that everything's okay for our neighbors." Once they were as far in the clear as Joe suspected they might be, he ducked into the nearest bathroom, broke out the costume, and got ready to go. The good news about getting this thing made in atomweave was that he wasn't going to die of heatstroke any time soon. The helmet would still be something of an issue, but it hadn't given him that much trouble before. When your skin could resist bullets if you flexed it right, a little hot steel wasn't a big deal. Still, he'd probably smell musky once it was all done. Cannonade stepped out onto the street. "Let's go see what we're dealing with."
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"That's a good idea, Bliss," said Cavalier. "I know I'm a newbie to poking space-time with a stick, but I think it's reasonable to assume that one aberration of the laws of causality might begat another. So... would there be some way for us to probe the link?" Javeen thought on it. "Well, there is a way... we've mainly been dealing with them as people who have lived our lives going forward, relatively free from the scope of this paradox. Each of you, on the other hand, is... well, I believe a good way of putting it would be 'a complex space-time event.' You are here and now, you will be there and then, and... well, at least one of you is still here right now." "Yeah, let's not dig too deep on the other five for now. So, what, we're going to go and beat the bush?" "In time. We'll let you know when we can detect a fluctuation that might serve as an oasis for one of the titans." Javeen looked to the sky. "Although, with the interference from up there..." "Well, at least we won't be lacking for targets. I think." Cavalier walked over to Roulette. "Hey, uh, if you don't mind... can we talk? At some point." --- "Yes," Velek said, "Jessie White had children. And grand-children. And... well, you know how the chain of lineage goes. Would you... would you like to meet some of them? Directly, I mean. You have likely already encountered some..."
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Judex, Dr. Thorne, the Tattered Man, and Nightingale all receive word through the pipeline about a very disturbed guest at a shelter, and the disturbances he's been sending up around him.
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Celestial Spirit Fellowship Tuesday, July 10th, 2017 7:32 PM The heat was breaking as the sun dragged down towards the horizon. But it still felt hot enough to light a fuse. Samantha Lemire sat on a graffiti-splattered bench in front of the shelter, nursing a cigarette like a shipwrecked man might nurse clean water. She looked out on the dirty street as the lamps flickered and fought against the twilight. As a charity worker in the Country Club, Sam had seen a lot and handled half of it with her own two hands. On a number of those occasions, she'd wished she'd had thicker gloves. But she knew what it was like to get her hands dirty and deal with the muck of the world. Not like this, though. This was something else entirely. She fought against her nerves as the steel door to the shelter scraped open. She turned to find Michael, one of the volunteers, waiting in the frame. "They show up yet?" "No. How's our... guest?" "He's fine. Sleeping it off, for now. As for the rest of him --" "Just focus on the bit that's sleeping. The others?" "They're fine, for now. If he wakes up..." Sam shook her head. "I gave him enough Benadryl that he could sleep through the Fourth of July." "You could have used the Haldol --" "There are people who need that. And he's not mad. As we know it." She turned back to the street, waiting for her guests. "Mind you, I'm sure these guys know it better..."
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Kyle recognized that snappish tone. For a second, he didn't know whether to stand at attention or roll his eyes. "You're right," he said. "Humor's usually a good coping mechanism, but there are some situations where it's unwarranted. Like today. You don't need to remind me about the importance of the election." Especially, in no uncertain terms, the importance of the fact that the Grand Nauarchus was a significant contender. It was like having a fully-armed star cruiser park just six inches above your head. "I've done my research. On my own, so that no one can accuse me of being swayed by Mentor." Kyle bit his tongue before he could say that people might find the prospect that he was a proxy vote for Mentor a lot more reassuring. Before he could really dig into that, though, they were accosted by the Zultasian journalist. Me and Zultasian men. This is a pattern. Before he could really speak up, though, Dol-Druth was leaning in. Well... let's see how it goes. And at least he's happier now.
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Well. That was sudden. Joe reached out towards the sound of Asli's voice, extending his own hand. In the other, he was fishing out his phone - it wasn't exactly the finest model, but it at least had a flashlight for moments like this. "Everything went out at once," he said, flipping through the functions with one hand. "Must be a brownout." As the light came on, he reached for Asli's hand. "Maybe the power'll come back on soon. I know you've got the studio time, and I'm guessing we don't wanna go walking back to the apartment only to have the lights come back on halfway there. Anything you want in the meantime? I don't think any of the ice cream places have gotten to where they're giving stuff away, but give it a few minutes and... well, y'know."
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Joe picked up the dead pig from the floor. "Really?" he said. "F***ing really?" He dragged the carcass from the floor to the nearest available trash can. While he wasn't exactly well-versed, he knew there were differing interpretations between imams on whether or not a Muslim could handle the flesh of pigs - or, as he'd found out through a few Google searches, keep a teacup pig as a pet. But a number of people leaned towards "Yes, as long as you don't handle it with your mouth." And besides. It wasn't like Joe had converted yet. "You think you're one of the bastions of liberty against creeping sharia and some sort of phantom caliphate... and the best you can do is this goddamn amateur hour foodfight bulls***?" Joe gave Asli a slight hand signal while he drew attention. He'd seen his share of racist idiocy, and there was a non-zero chance that this was not they - whoever "they" might be - could do.
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Tagging. Joe's results: 18, 13, 13, 13, 9, 10, 3, 17, 16, 16 For the Notice, I'll be using SM for 20.
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Joe smiled as the young man went off with the signed album. "I dunno," he said. "I liked your 'I'm gonna tear it all down' phase, too. I mean, I like all your phases, honestly. But that's a fun one." He walked over to the bar, grabbing a hard cider for himself and a virgin drink for Asli. He and her had had the talk, of course - well, they'd had a lot of talks, but there was a "the" talk. About faith. Joe was still in the process of wrapping his head around it, but he needed some time - both to understand the precepts and tenets. Until then, he could still partake in a good bit of booze, and not worry about how some of the other requirements of converting might interact with his powers. Joe took the time to let Asli get her equipment ready to say hi to Mark and Nina. "Glad to see you guys out here," he said. He knew there were issues between Nina and Asli - fully understandable - so he kind of wondered what sorcery (entirely metaphorical) Mark had pulled to get her out here. But no. This was a happy night. "Gonna be one hell of a set."
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Joe was transfixed. Honestly. He had heard Asli sing everywhere - in the club, in the kitchen, at shows, in the shower - and her voice could lure her in with a snap. Her genre wasn't exactly his genre, but he liked to think of himself as a cosmopolitan man who could enjoy quality wherever it was. And Asli's voice certainly was quality. And none of that sentiment came from the other bond they had. Okay. Maybe a little bit of it came from that bond. He smiled as the lyrics sank in. He and Asli were somewhat certain of what they had. In that ambiguous zone of comfort where things seem good, seem stable, but could only stand to grow stronger and build towards the future. Or, in a worst case scenario, topple if more pressure was placed on it. He wanted to place that pressure, though. He wanted to move forward. Maybe not right away, but... somewhere down the line. The question of where, though, kept coming up.
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This had been something they'd talked about often. Joe had always wanted to see Asli in the studio; it had just been a problem of making it work on everyone's schedules. Besides, he knew just how technical this job could get, and it wasn't like he wanted to serve as a distraction or keep asking questions throughout. He kept his mouth shut generally, but he knew he could possibly get... eager in circumstances like this. Now, however, he was feeling quite cool. He'd been able to get a day off from work, and the studio was providing a nice, cool respite from the heat outside. He watched as Asli got her voice together, ensuring the proper cadence. He raised a thumb as she winked to him. "Been waiting for this for a while," he said. "Let's hear the music play."
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"Developing." It was a term he'd gotten used to a lot. Cavalier had to admit it was wholly appropriate - the UN would be the last thing anyone would designate as "a unified global governmental body," and there was nothing approaching a unified or consistent force for space travel on Earth. And yet... every time the term got used, it kinda nagged at him. Like he was being congratulated for being so well-mannered, he could sit at the grown-ups' table. "I'm sure that others above me have considered the matter of liaisons with the Farsiders," he said. "As for planet-killers... well, I pity any asteroid that would have to deal with the kind of defenses our planet can muster." Besides. There were things out there that Cavalier feared a lot more than asteroids. Apophis, for all its titanic mass, didn't have intelligence behind it. Though if it does, then I have officially seen all that this universe can offer. "As for the vote... as a Star Knight, as it is so emphasized, I am a galactic citizen. No more, and no less, than any other who I would protect with my services. As such, Mentor says I have a say in this race. So, I'm gonna speak best I can. Though don't blame me if I just kinda pick randomly on the lower ticket candidates."
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I mean, there's not essentially a need to fully scrap the character. If you want to make a boomerang hurler, we're down with that. If you want to make a boomerang hurler from Australia, we'd need Reasons (TM), but I'm sure we could work with that given sufficient backstory. But making a character who is meant to be That Asshole... goes badly.
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Right, so. Boomerangs. There's an issue with comics, that an individual from a country or culture will have powers that are tied hard into said country or cultural identity. Sometimes, this can be done well; other times... well, I think every Aborigine hero at Marvel save one has had powers tied to the Dreamtime. And that means you get characters like Captain Boomerang, the Australian man who hurls boomerangs. It especially feels oddly removed when it's an American man who throws boomerangs after growing up in Australia; it risks saying, "I have grown up in the heart of Australian culture, absorbed everything from the bush to the beaches of Perth, gone out in the depths towards Kalgoorlie, know the history, the people, the value of the flat white*... and all I want to capture from my home soil is 'boomerangs.'" Especially since we've got a number of Australian players here. The boomerang as a weapon can work; it's just that when Marvel wants to make, say, a villain who hurls boomerangs, they make him... a baseball player who got drummed out of the big leagues due to scandal and turned to crime, using his throwing powers for evil. When your character is an American putting on a show of being another culture, then reduces that culture to "boomerangs"... well, it can come across quite poorly, if you know what I'm saying. Especially since he will likely be interacting with other players, and perhaps other characters, who are likewise Australian. *Hell, I expect to get s*** from Aussie players for possibly reducing their country to the bullet points I know, and I apparently know quite a few.
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Cavalier nodded. He wasn't sure he and Bliss were on the same level now... but at least they were closer. "I'm... not sure they'll do that," he said. "I could be naive here - yeah, 'could' - but they seem to respect us. And they said things are uncertain. But..." He shook his head. "Yeah. It could be they're just asking nicely as the first step. After that..." He didn't want to entertain the possibility. "But right now, we still have a chance to change things. Maybe. While we still have something approaching diplomacy, and some hours left to go, we can see if there's a way to make both worlds work. I hope. And if not... hopefully, we'll all be free to make our choices when the time comes. Whatever they may be." --- "Jessie White..." Velek shook his head. "She contributed much. She thought the first of those things when they appeared. She led expeditions that helped us establish outposts and colonies on the distant reaches of this planet. She's the reason we were able to make a place for us against some of its greater threats. But... she was still human. She lived to 112, had many descendants, and..." Velek didn't even want to finish the sentence. Especially with the woman standing before him. But then again, it wasn't like he had to.
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Accounted for. - Fox Posts for April 2017 Temperance One Lousy Lorax (1 post) = 1 PP
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"Armor of the...?" Cavalier studied Bliss; he realized now that, even though their paths had crossed before, he'd never dug deep into the Citadel's banks on her species. He would gladly do so now, if not for the fact that there was a great big temporal firewall keeping him from Mentor. If it was going to keep things from coming to blows... "Bliss... what did the Star Knights do to you?" --- Javeen looked like he would be happy to be absolutely anywhere else but next to Bliss and decided to take Aquaria up on the offer. "Right, um... yes. That." Velek looked to the two. "Another example of paradox. We have the original timeline, and an idea of the actions and will of the original Bliss. But looking at the after results of the gene modding program has clearly set her down another path. So, even if things do go according to how they did, there's now a lesser chance of whether they will. And if that happens..." Velek fell silent. "I believe the Cavalier called this a 'McFly Scenario.' We haven't run into that yet. No one has been affected by the ripples. But it may be that we are just waiting for the window to close before we see if anything has changed."
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"To be honest, neither am I," said Temperance. "But I think an aerial approach might help us both out." She willed the water out of her pack; as it hovered over the ground, it swiftly cohered into a floating sledge made entirely of ice. "I think it should support two, in this state." As they took off over the forest, Temperance considered how best to breach the matter. Finally, she decided decorum could take a holiday. "I think I can guess what Court you're with," she said. "I'm guessing you got drawn out this way by the dryads?"
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