Blue Rose

Val might be interesting. Her powers are few and minor, but they could be fun tooninated.

"May I?" Sam leans over, and with a few taps, magically gets Tona's phone to do what she was trying to do, somehow. "So... it's basically a tabloid?" she skims some headlines. Definitely tabloid. "I kinda hope it isn't legit. People vanishing isn't exactly fun." Today, Sam sports an excessively short pair of denim shorts and the baggiest green sweater, with a big, ruffly collar for no apparent reason. As she goes back to her own seat and downloads the ap on her own phone, and continues browsing. "If I find anything about a laseratops, I know it's a hoax." She sips her coffee.

Yes. Helping. It's not a happy side-effect of Wayward getting some.

What a mysterious antagonistic force. I'm sure it won't come up and be relevant again at any point.

Jay and magic? Sounds like a fun time for Kit. A little thing like PL disparity's never bugged her.

Diplomacy: 1d20+25 34

Rough crowd. But Val's dealt with rougher. Granted, 'rougher' usually means 'trying to shove a robot fist through her spleen, but it's amazing how many skills from the field translate to the stage; dodging the beer bottle doesn't even break her flow, and one of the perks of dancing in combat boots? Don't have to worry about broken glass. And the tough? Well, can't worry about him. Gotta trust security to bring him in line. The show, as they say, must go on. But this one, this Rebecca? There's a treat. She may not be able to turn the room, but if she can reach one person, bring one light into this place? That's always worth it. When she looks back, there's an intensity to Val's gaze that takes hold, won't let her go. Last time was an accident. This time? Not a chance. It goes from a song for the crowd to a song for only one, each note diving into that pit, reaching to find that spark, to nurture it. The next song goes on, to an a cappella section, building to a soulful moment of release, and Val puts the mike in front of Rebecca, eyes full of faith. Make me proud, gorgeous.

Wayward The Death Song

TUNED by GIZMO Wayward Spending 1 PP. 1 PP remaining. Purchasing: Feat: Ultimate Perform: Strings.

Before the Show Wayward Tour Bus Dressing Room "...you don't have to call me Ms. Cain," she explains again, more amused than annoyed. "Makes me feel old; call me Valerie." Such a cute thing. So shy, despite her energy, but start getting her out of her shell, and... ...but now probably isn't the time. Not that Val is often one to yield to prudence. The star looks into her mirror. She can't always see Jane out in the rest of the world, but in the mirror, she's plain as day, and as she invites her from mind to body, her own reflection fades, and it's only Jane before her. She lifts her hand to her own cheek, the sensation resonating between souls, more real than real. A kiss, to her knuckle, is as a kiss to Jane's hand. The only way the ghost can know another's touch anymore. She wraps an arm around her hip and simply holds her, for a time. They can never be together. Not really. The distance is uncrossable, but the bond that has grown between them, mind to mind and soul to soul? It would kill them both if she ever got this close to another human. It's nearing her limit, even with a ghost, but this may be as close as she can ever get to another person ever again. But it has to end. It always does. No matter who it is, forever is not a luxury Valerie Cain can ever afford. Gently, she places one hand atop another. Any other day, atop Val's hand, but right now, atop Jane's, given freely to explore as she will, but it's time. As she has for every other tour they've gone through, Jane takes that black silk ribbon and silver padlock, and clips it around Val's neck. It's time. No more words. Just let the music speak. Marianne in hand, it's time for Wayward to take the stage. Present No limits. No barriers. We are the music... There is always a tension in the air as her concerts start. An energy filling the air, that Val can feed on, mold. The hopes, the dreams, the love of the crowd flows into the music, and the music flows back into the crowd, building that same energy, and letting Val shape the crowd. But not today. Any other day, that cord is right. Perfect. Grabs the audience and won't let go. But today? A dissonance fills the air. Rage; not righteous and motivated, but caged and seething, a poisonous hate looking for somewhere to turn, a bitter emptiness desperate to be filled, pain left to fester, hope left to rot, and it all washes over the artist, poisoning the music with a discordant strain while Val suffers to build a wall, to force the madness to stay at bay. Anathema to her way, doomed to fail, and even in the moments it buys, she bleeds of herself into the music, ending her first song drained, instead of empowered. The opener cuts off early, in an eerie, bitter end as she grabs the key and tears the padlock from her neck, casting it into the crowd. Usually a focus of energy, excitement. Today? Of pity. She continues to the next song, hungry to get what she needs from the crowd. She needs that heat, that passion, that hope. She needs one spot of happiness in all of this, and so, she looks to Jane and, full of poison, draws on her, sings to her that final song.

Very important roll: Perform: Strings: 1d20+25 26

KIT Blank Space

Assessing the magical defenses. Arcane Lore: 1d20+3 20

That cot is a tempting thought, but business first. "It's... dangerous to think of Mouse as people," she warns, as much to herself as to Tona as they set out for the manor. Sam's hair stands on end before they're even close to the house; that is some serious mojo. "This place... has a ludicrous amount of power. They have the resources, but not the control. Be careful; any defenses they have probably rely on excessive amounts of brute force." As they get closer, Sam's head starts to hurt. Her magical senses have never exactly been crisp, and it all starts blurring together into this general stench that quickly starts giving her a headache that probably won't get any better on its own. She reaches into her purse and pops a couple aspirin; she'll be glad of them before the night's over. "So, wanna walk up to the front door and pretend we're selling cookies?" Sam jokes as she tries to sort through all the muck and figure out the defenses.

As they walk, Sam realizes she forgot her sweater in the restaurant in her rush. The evening air is biting, but it's better this way; she wraps her arm around Tona and pulls close, letting her be her warmth as she leans her head on her shoulder, barely paying attention to where they're going, just letting Tona lead. "Y'know, we just dashed on the check," she points out, not making any move to slow down. She tries to hold onto the moment, but she can't help but think of the folks in trouble right now. People who did not just crash a perfectly good date night. But she holds on just a little bit longer. "I think we still have some wine back at your place. Maybe we could go back, have some wine, curl up under a blanket, and make fun of a Julia Roberts movie?"

KIT Blank Space Sounds Like a Sequel WAYWARD Elvis Isn't Dead Entrance of the Gladiators

Standing by for results of the disable device rolls before I can post.

The crash of metal on metal thunders through the room, strikes coming fast and hard until a dense Asian woman hits the floor with a thud. Val helps her instructor back to her feet, sweating bullets. Her technique has a long way to go, but instinct, strength, and speed go a long way to make up for it. "Good match," she says, breathing heavily as her phone goes off. Incident at ASTRO Labs. Details unknown. Interesting. "Hey, Kairi; I gotta take this. Trouble afoot. Same time next week work for you, babe? Great, thanks." At that, she heads out for a jog, in the direction of ASTRO labs.

I use my enhanced charisma and try to intimidate the lions. Intimidate: 1d20+11 18

"Every toy given makes a diff-" Val freezes. One moment, she's riding the high of thousands of people, all ready for a show. The next? She feels nothing. And... did the mike just cut out? She looks down to see the cord cut clean, then up to see... Well. That was not how she'd planned to spend her day. Reflexively, Val backs up in a defensive stance and reaches for her belt, where she'd normally keep her staff... when she's not on stage. The star looks around, then to the lions, then to the mike in her hands. Gotta make do with what you got. She raises the mike high in the air and cracks the severed cord like a whip. "BACK!" she shouts out, raising her other arm in the air in an effort to look big and loud and scary, "BACK, I SAY!"

Disable Device: 1d20+10 28

I think this is a time for some dice. I'm thinking Sam and Tona do sneak versus dodge. If they pass, surprise round; we go forward with the plan, with Sam trying to disarm a mind control doohickey and Tona grappling the guy, and go on to initiative where hopefully Sam can emotion control before the disarmed dino can attack. Taking 10 on Stealth, for 27. Assuming that passes, attack to hit and disable device to... well... disable device. Attack: 1d20+12 22 Disable Device: 1d20+10 23 Willing to pop an HP if needed.

When Tona takes the lead to leave, Sam lets her anger slips away and follows, looking drained. Tired. She rests her head on Tona's shoulder, glad for the touch, and simply goes where Tona takes her. "I'm sorry." This is all her fault, after all. AEGIS is her problem, and she dragged Tona into it. As they leave, she doesn't bother to look back.

Sam's eyebrow twitches as she goes red. "Seriously? Seriously?!" she yells. "I had a CARTOON CHARACTER ask him a question! You're the one who shot him! You come in here trying to intimidate us with your thugs and accuse me of assault because your guy was spooked by a Halloween decoration?!" She clenches and unclenches her fist a few times, little wisps of blue flame momentarily appearing every time she opens her hand. A wisp drifts into the edge of the table, eating a little gouge in a corner.

Sam rubs her temples, already getting a headache. "Typical AEGIS. Come in here all strong arm, interrupt our date, threaten to frame me, and oh yeah, ask for a favor. A list like that in a matter of minutes and I'm sure your faith that you aren't doing anything unsavory in your secret haunted house prison lab is well founded." She reaches into her purse and throws some cash on the table. Way more than enough to cover their bill. She's a moment away from just getting up and leaving, and seeing what they do about it when she stops. Leaving now would mean abandoning someone in trouble over Wyld's disgusting manners. Being the better person sucks. "If I do this, and that is if I do this, I have a condition. You have a prisoner I want transferred to UNISON custody. I don't trust them- no offense, babe- but I trust you less."