Derin

Ot will happen, on average, once for every 400 times you roll two dice. So... once a week?

Pizza place, Southside February 27th, 2012 "Happy birthday to you..." Helen sang along with the two minimum-wage workers sweltering in astronaut costumes, young children in various states of disarray and the few parents who hadn't taken off as soon as their children were in her hands, watching Anna. They gave their hoorays, clapped eleven times for Anna's age and once to make her grow, and the girl leaned forward and blew out her candles. "Happy birthday, sweetie." Helen gave her daughter a quick hug before leaning back so that her sister Jennifer could cut the cake. It was good that she'd been able to take the night off, and not just from cleaning office buildings. At the thought, she moved her leg under the table to nudge the backpack she'd sat there. The pack containing the elements of Whiplash's costume that wouldn't fit comfortably under her clothing. But tonight, I won't need it.

Chloe felt the ground rock under her and somehow managed to keep her footing. She glanced back at the fleeing bystanders; clear door, no obvious hazards. Nothing she could do for them. They'd be safest if the threat was eliminated, then she could check for injuries caused in the rush. Sedatives. Chloe felt the nanites move through her bloodstream and settle in the capillaries in her skin as she dashed for the strange magician. "Time to go to sleep," she murmured, grabbing at the magician. He slipped out of her hold, but not before she felt the tingle of nanites leaving her skin to alight on his.

"I'm fine," Whiplash said, glancing around for any previously unnoticed enemies before walking out of the smoke and pulling up her goggles. "How badly are you hurt? Do you need to go to hospital?" She considered. Fleur? She had magic, but probably not useful magic. Whiplash wasn't sure how to contact her anyway. "I don't know many other heroes, I'm afraid. I have a history of working alone." A habit that she was beginning to realise may have to change if she wanted to make any headway in this town. She glanced back at the dark cloud blocking the street behind them. "Uhm... I'm sure that'll clear up soon. So. Hospital?"

"It was nice to meet you, John," Chloe said as he left. She didn't really understand why people made such a big deal about her identity; Chloe's hormonal and nervous systems might not gel perfectly with MD273's memories, but both should adapt in time. It didn't bother her unduly to be addressed as Chloe, who had both a legal identity and less tendency to upset people than MD273. Both names were factually accurate. "Ethics class," she said thoughtfully, but John had left; she turned to Kristin instead. "They teach ethics here? Right and wrong?" Her own moral code was clear and simple, but not appropriate for human behaviour. Ethics...

Dex vs. trip: 1d20+4=22 Going to initiate a grapple on Hequanefer with Fatigue aura active. Attack roll: 1d20+11=18 Grapple check: 1d20+14=23 (I forgot the Inspire, so that should be 27.) ... I don't think that's going to work. But if it does I'd like to pin him. The save DC for the fatigue effect is 16.

It took the reaction of her classmates to tip Chloe off that she wasn't looking at a theatrical stunt. But whatever was going on, it was in a movie theatre full of bystanders, and it was dangerous. There was some kind of magician, a mummy, and within seconds there would be a panicked stampede. "A mummy. A real mummy? This is very important: does anybody know whether it is alive or dead?" If it was dead, she could hurt it. Probably. She'd never fought mummies before. But the magician... he was alive, and he was a problem. "Maybe it's time for some creative medicine," she muttered to herself.

Chloe had been warned that she'd probably get asked about her origin a lot. She took a deep breath, sorted out the pronouns in her head (people were more comfortable dealing with "Chloe" than "MD273"), closed her eyes, and began to explain. "Not too long ago, I was in a car accident. I was killed. My parents are both brilliant scientists and engineers, and were able to get me home with most of my body tissues still intact, but the brain damage was severe. They had a medical unit of their own invention, a sentient nanite collective that could get inside bodies and repair them from the inside out. I... it was ordered to save my life at any cost. But the damage..." She shrugged. "Most organs can be repaired just fine, but there are certain parts of the brain that, once you've done enough damage to them, don't really... start up properly any more. Nobody knows quite enough about how the brain works to know exactly what chemical patterns need to be where to restart a consciousness that just isn't there any more. Minds are good at healing, if they can be kept stimulated and if luck is on your side, but in this case... The only choice, aside from permanent braindeath, was for the nanite system to completely integrate itself into my body." She looked at John. "I lost all my memories, permanently. I have all of MD273... I have all of the medical system's memories, as well as some limited use of the nanites on other people. I'm learning to use my brain again, but my old life is gone forever."

Woo, initiative! 1d20+4=6 ... well... at least I beat Net Fly?

Chloe bit her lip. Her psychologist had specifically warned her parents not to try to force upon her the things she used to enjoy. Food was one thing, as the parts of her nervous system responsible for processing taste were largely intact, but entertainment was another. Doctor Stevens hadn't spoken to her about it, though, and he hadn't been aware that she'd been eavesdropping on his conversations with her parents. Did that mean it was okay for her to pursue her old interests? Would avoiding them be worse? She couldn't really call him to ask in the cafeteria. She didn't want to offend Kristin. "I... I used to like soap operas and dramas. And rock music. I've... explored them since, but they haven't done much for me."

"My job is generally more on the side of healing injuries than preventing them, but if you would permit me to do a brief diagnostic inspection of your muscles I could advise you on how much strain they can safely take. All strength exercise is technically damage, of course, so exactly where you draw the line between a good workout and an injury is a little inexact, but we can get an idea. Furthermore, I offer my healing services freely and would be happy to fix any damage you do do to your muscles while training." To Serge and Kristin, she said tentatively, "I find popcorn to be a far less distracting snack and thus superior to accompany entertainment, especially if it is not flavoured. I have not eaten popcorn while watching a movie but I would expect it to detract less from the movie than chocolate."

"Meeting new people is a major reason why I am here," Chloe said. Her psychiatrist had decided that being around her pre-accident friends, who she could neither remember nor knew how to properly interact with, was bad for her. He hadn't said as much to her, of course, but he hadn't been aware of how friendly she was with the house's surveillance systems. She missed the house. The surveillance systems at the school were strangers as much as the students were. She didn't even know how much of the school was under surveillance. "That and developing skills, of course. My previous schooling is not... useful to me at the moment, and my knowledge outside the field of medical science is sorely lacking."

Whiplash couldn't spare more than a glance for Pyre. At least he was still standing. She needed to take the demon before her out of the count, and her whip didn't seem to be helping. Fortunately it couldn't see her; if she could keep herself and Pyre concealed, they might stand a chance. Maybe. Although its wild flailing could still get lucky, and she couldn't afford to take a lucky strike. Time to experiment. She darted forward and jammed her stungun into the demon. "This might come as a bit of a shock." I hope.

Let's see if these guys like electricity. Attack roll: 1d20+12=24

At least I won't get shot this time...

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I should learn to survive as many combat situations and tactics as possible." And it was vitally important for humans to build interpersonal relationships, she knew. Although she wasn't entirely sure why yet. "My healing services are of course always available to you or your sparring partners, John, if you ever find yourself needing not to hold back for any reason. Surely restraining yourself so much makes it difficult to learn anything?" Already she was wondering how long she'd last against a sword. And a gun... forget a gun. She had no way to deal with ranged combat at all. That had never been a potential problem before, but if she was going to be running into combat, she needed to find some way to deal with it.

Chloe nodded. Her muscle memory was largely intact, but she was fairly sure that she had never learned to fight. Occasional brawls, perhaps, judging by the sort of injuries that pre-accident Chloe had often approached MD273 with, but she'd never pried for details. She supposed she'd find out her own capabilities soon enough. She nibbled a sandwich, wondering if it would be rude to ask John what his unusual abilities were. It probably would be. "I get the impression that you are a warrior, John? Is it common for students here to be warriors?"

Chloe nodded and smiled at Serge, although she was wishing he'd stop paying attention to her. She used to be good at this; she used to be able to put distressed, injured patients who were initially terrified of the strange talking medical bay at ease with a few words and some carefully chosen drugs. But the rules were different for humans, and drugging people to make up for lack of social skills was not, of course, an option. Now was it likely to be well-received once the drugs wore off. And she would need to learn social skills, if she was going to be a hero. And also, apparently, physics. She remained silent and focused on the conversation, hoping to learn something.

Well. That demon, at least, appeared to be real. "Can you see the other one?" Whiplash asked as she stepped sideways to get a clear shot at the demon and lashed her whip across it, careful to stay under the cover of smoke and out of range of the demon's claws. They didn't seem to be raining fire any more, so she was at least free to move without being hit by something she couldn't see. She was beginning to see how her enemies felt. "Do we need more smoke? I'm not sure it gives us that much advantage in this situation and I'm a little worried about blacking out large parts of the street."

Let's smack the visible demon with a good old-fashioned Strike. Attack roll: 1d20+12=31

"I agree, which is why combat training is important," she said. "I may not fight in the field but that won't keep me out of fights. Combat situations appear to be part of the job. If I'm not equipped to walk through a fight I might as well leave now and train to be a paramedic for the hospital. I believe Kristin meant that learning aggressive combat techniques are fairly useless to me; steering clear of rough fighting isn't really an option. Perhaps later you would consent to spar with me?" She looked him up and down. "I do not expect to win, but I have no doubt that it would be a very instructive failure. I've never been in... I mean, I don't remember ever fighting before, and lacking that experience makes it difficult to know what skills to focus on."

"The pleasure's mine," Chloe replied with a brief nod. "And thank you. Yes, Kristin has been kind enough to show me around the campus. I am... unfamiliar with unfamiliar places, as it were, so I was slightly worried that I would get lost." She paused to nibble on a sandwich. The taste was different to her mother's egg sandwiches, but recognisable; it was surely nothing poisonous. She glanced from John to Kristin and concluded that movies did seem to be correct about social dynamics in high school cafeterias, and she was clearly sitting at the "jock table". But Kristin had not been as hostile as those movies suggested, so Chloe probably wasn't in any danger so long as she avoided getting involved in any blatantly illegal thrill-seeking activities. "How long have you been attending Claremont Academy, John?"

"I'm pretty sure that I see what you see," Whiplash shouted over the sounds of battle. "Except in the smoke, where you can't, and the flames, which I... you know what I mean!" She dashed out from behind the hero long enough to flick her whip up and entangle the wings of the demon firing upon them. Please let this one be real. Even if it wasn't, maybe she could get it to stop shooting for a moment. Then she dashed back behind Pyre. Ha! Hidden in smoke, a master of stealth, behind a living fireproof shield; there was no way they could hit her! Don't get cocky, Helen, she told herself. You always get shot about five seconds after you start to get cocky. Always.

Dammit. Trying to trip the flying demon, then. Attack: 1d20+12=29 Trip: 1d20+12=26

Public auction. Presumably the previous owner purchased it legitimately, then. Resale made no sense if the Heart was a deliberate target, not unless a buyer was lined up in advance. Someone would have to be crazy to put that together for a private collection. It'd need to have a practical use. It was a superweapon, wasn't it? It was going to be a damn superweapon. Asad seemed to know what he was doing as far as the business possibilities went, anyway, and he was probably more familiar with such things. Her involvement in such arrangements had always been as the hired thief, and they already knew about those; a businessman would know more about the sort of people that hired them. "What else was in the safe?"