Blue Rose

Sam kicks back, relaxes. This station's not her usual thing, but it's nice. Calm. Relaxing. Good music to take a nap to... And apparently the kind of music Tona's parents listen to. She smirks. Which grows into a smile. Which grows into a grin. And then she just bursts out laughing, rolling against her seat belt. She tries to say something, but it just comes out as a thumbs up to Tona.

Sense Motive: 1d20+2=4 Edit: Hero Point: 1d20+2=22

Silvia offers her companion a look. She doesn't say it, but it conveys all it needs to; her way worked. "Thank you, Miss," she says to the helpful stranger. "That will be all. "Well, then, Mister McBride. It seems you have become caught up in matters larger than yourself. Your roommate is caught up in some dangerous business, which may spill over to those close to you. For your own protection, and the protection should these events come to your home, I'm afraid we must take you into protective custody." Her delivery is flat, matter-of-fact, with little concern as to whether he believes her or not. Nor does she care if he'll believe her when she says his stay in the brig is to protect him from any accidents involving the ship's advanced technology. "King of Suits. Please retrieve Mister McBride's belongings, and ensure his room is properly secured, then return to the ship. Oh yes, and Mister McBride, where do you keep your cellular phone? I am sure you shall want to call your family." With that, she sets off, carrying the man to her vessel.

"Music? Good idea." And since Tona has no clue, that leaves Sam to take charge and make the call! If they disagree, they can speak up and go from there. There's no place to plug in an iPod, and she left hers in her room anyways, so radio it is. She looks it over. Power, tuner, volume. All straightforward enough, though she can't recall if she's ever worked one quite like this. It's been a while since she's worked a radio at all. Her fingers dance in front of the panel for a while as she deciphers the machine. And tries to remember a few radio station. The first that springs to mind is her usual, but... probably a bit loud after the panic attack... what was that smooth jazz station? That one was AM... her finger moves closer, pointing to the AM/FM switch, having finally figured out how to work this thing.

Sam shrugs, though she is a bit put-off. That wasn't something she offered lightly, after all. And she takes comfort in believing she can solve all her problems with magic. It's usually true on the job, at least. "No shame in a bit of help 'til you get there," she says, going for a throwaway line, instead of an argument. So, she enjoys the ride, if a little less than before the panic attack, and before the roof going up. Though she does join the pondering. Just where does Tona come from, if she reacts like this to a car? But that's her mystery. No need to pry.

The images try and force themselves on Tona's mind a moment longer, but when the car stops, there's no point and the prodding fades away. With Cerys and Mali already there to comfort her, Sam just stays in her seat. That's enough help; no need to crowd her. Though it is a weird thing, just sitting there while someone's having a panic attack. Rather awkward, really. She adjusts her skirt, shifts a bit. She could have done more just then. Just snuffed out that panic, rather than trying to build her a safe room. Sure, Fox and Masque forbade her from using that on allies, but... would it really be that bad for things like this? "If it's still too much," she begins, sounding a bit too nervous for the offer, "I can stop it for you. If you want." It can't be a problem if she has permission, right?

Success! She has managed to defend against the sinister efforts to help her out!

Sam, meanwhile, throws her head back and enjoys the wind in her hair. She tries saying something, but of course, the wind eats her words, so she turns around and takes a breath to shout, just in time for Tona to scream. What... why... Has she never been in a car before? It fits. It seems like she's making a lot of the transitions Sam had to, herself, after coming to this world. Instead of just trying to talk her out of it, she settles back into her seat and opts to take the direct approach. Right into her brain, and hers alone. she says, projecting her voice into her new friend's mind. She's already working her illusion. She can't change the feel of the vehicle, nor of the wind, so she goes with an image that fits. A room about the size of a garage, with a giant fan in front of the car, which is now running on top of some sort of large treadmill, keeping it from moving. Of course, to everyone else in the vehicle, the car is driving along normally and Kit is just sitting there quietly while Tona cowers.

1d20+2=5 Glorious.

Silvia isn't particularly off-put by the outburst. She merely scoffs- something she's very good at- and rebuts, "Speed is our priority at the moment. And you must have a rather low opinion of your fellow Earthlings; is your kind really so easily baffled that asking a man's name would sow confusion?" She's quite calm through all of this, addressing her fellow investigator's points as a matter of courtesy. Her grasp on their latest lead is no less rough for the distraction. Can't risk a potential perp getting away, after all.

Intimidation, and I really need to actually buy ranks in that skill: 1d20=20 Well. And I was expecting that to be embarrassing.

Grappling one guy with her brain. Initiative: 1d20+1=17 Move Object: 1d20+8=26

Silvia advances into the ruined hospital, taking it all in. Those beds are probably where they were to be transported initially. Drop them there unconscious, strap them down, fill them with sedatives, and go about business. Then, she spots the guard, and doesn't even slow her walk. "Take the one on the left." With a sweep of her arm, she calls on a column of air to slam the back of the guard on the right, to pin him in place. After all, they need to ask someone questions. Not that they're liable to be very cooperative, even after some physical 'persuasion.'

This... may just be the most transparent lie Silvia has ever heard. Either he is, in fact, the roommate, who conveniently happens to be rushing like all Hell is about to break loose to get out of town, or he's Tory Vetto and a horrible liar. Either way, he obviously knows more than he's saying. But first, time to figure out which it is. She grabs the man by the scruff of his neck and orders him, "Don't say a word." She drags him outside to the housing area proper and shouts loud and clear, "WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME THIS MAN'S NAME?" She seems to have forgotten that most humans in this part of the planet carry identification, but that could be faked anyways.

"Hey, I wouldn't dress her up like a tart!" More than once... That said, it's time to start piling the peer pressure on Tona. "But see! Even Cerys understands looking good every now and then. It'll be fun!" She doesn't say anything more on tactics, though she does add it to the list of things to be annoyed with Cerys about tonight. They're trying to coax Tona out of that ever-vigilant shell of hers, get her to relax. The last thing she needs is someone telling her she should keep looking over her shoulder for rampaging monsters.

I was wondering why there was a man packing his clothes in an office. Now I'm wondering why there's a multi-room dorm. I think that sounds less plausible to me. :P

Silvia strides confidently through the campus, stopping only to demand directions from a passing skateboarder who conveniently faceplanting right next to her. After that, she marches on her way like she owns the place. Upon reaching the room in question, she looks the young man up and down, seeming to soak up his fear. "Good afternoon, Mister Vetto. We should like a word with you, and this display," she gestures to the man... boy, really, and his packing, "You have already told us you know why, so I suggest you talk. Otherwise, this meeting may need to become... 'interesting.'" She lets the word hang and offers the man a toothy grin. A bright, full mouth of teeth bar one that looks like it was cut out roughly with a saw.

Kit raises an eyebrow at her new friend and her odd compliment. Or whatever it is. It takes her a few tries to comment on it, and eventually she gets some words out. "Tona, this is just a night on the town. We're not gonna go do... anything that needs a field of fire." The next part is aimed as much at Mali, "And I'm sure there will be no random thugs jumping us while we're at dinner." The costume part, she ignores. She doesn't have one anyways, and worst case, she has some flip flops in her bag, and can ditch the scarf in an instant. Easy; a perk of not bothering with a secret identity. And a luxury one can afford when the closest thing to family you have is also a superhero. She opens the door, gets in, and plops herself down, her butt staking its claim on shotgun. "Just relax. Not everything needs to be a tactical assessment." She goes quiet for a second, and then makes a decree. "Mali, we're taking Tona clothes shopping!" She looks to the back seat and keeps talking. "You really need at least one outfit that's completely impractical and serves no purpose but to look good." A beat, then she adds before Tona can object, "And it can't hurt to go try something on." Now, she deigns to allow others their input.

Sam passes Cerys' bag back, then reclaims her own before finally dropping the veil. "Dang. I'd wanted to get on the road first, at least." She shifts her pout towards Cerys, the look growing far more judgmental. "You kinda suck at this." The words carry considerably more venom than she'd intended. At least, one should hope, because that was a lot of venom. "You'd think you'd do better on your own plan." She puts her hands behind her head, reaching one further down to get near her brand, just to gauge how hot it is. Certainly enough to blister; best to cut down on the magic for a bit. "Anyways, Tona, we're not on the job. No need to keep using the supername; please, call me Sam." When Mali introduces her ride, Sam doesn't really know much about it, but she fakes being suitably impressed, circling the vehicle to look like she's appreciating anything of importance. "Wow... Nice. What kind of shape was it in when you got it?"

Silvia grits her teeth and lets out a low growl, frustrated at the poor display. That two are still stan- that one is still standing is an insult. And now the best she can do is tie! Humiliating! So, she walks up to the last guard, sword drawn, and starts swinging, shredding gear, knocking away that bizarre gun, and ending it with a hilt to the side of the head. "Now that that unpleasantness is sorted," she says calmly, sheathing her sword as if she'd just cleaned up a spill rather than thrashing an armed soldier. "What do you know about their technology? Can you use it to get us out of here?"

The entire arrangement has Sam looking at her accomplices, trying to keep the frustration off her face. They're horrible at this! The accent is bad enough, but the whispering, to boot? That's way suspicious! And that hug... they're about the same size, but if Mali noticed the clothes? And that hug looked a lot harder than she could manage, puny little thing that she is. And... French? Really? Just stay calm, Sam. Don't let it show. This is normal banter, and... screw it. "Five seconds at this rate," Kit sighs softly, on the off chance Mali won't notice, but she doesn't particularly care as she visibly deflates.

Sam catches the purse, though the glare she's giving Cerys when Mali pops in is positively frigid. Even with that apology... 'unworthy?' Really? She'd seen her work before; she's obviously just another thief, so what right does she have getting so high-and-mighty? With Mali here, it's time to bury that and try to have some fun, but there will be words later. "It was just a small disagreement, Mali, I'm sorry. That sounds like an excellent plan. Shall we?" The last part is directed towards the entire group as she begins moving towards the parking lot. Her tone and voice match Cerys, if not her words, and she can imitate her gait admirably, even despite her own shoes. Of course, as she looks back, she hopes the real joke will be the other two fumbling their respective roles. Though she does feel a bit bad; she left Tona with the hardest act.

This'll be my next attack. Swording: 1d20+12=19 DC23 Toughness.

King of Suits finishes right as the Vanessa returns with the tea, and Silvia promptly waves her aboard the ship. Plenty of space for tea over there. She cuts ahead, simply walking aboard, and her young crew member follows without any special protocol. "Take us to Freedom City University," she announces once everyone is safely on board, then sips some tea as the ship lurches upward, just getting some distance from the building. "We shall consult the student registry for further information on this Mister Vetto." She doesn't seem particularly hesitant to make this decree without any input.

Just to be clear, is this adventure meant to actually end in a new superteam, or is that expected to remain a farce?