Curious Key

Nose? He had a magic nose?! She blinked the surprise out of her eyes and swallowed the question before it could get out. She could understand reticence in those things better than most. It was one thing to be a mutant; they were a dime a dozen in Claremont, really. But when the conversation turned to things more specific things got a bit . . . uncomfortable. "It's . . ." She scrunched her brows together. ". . . P T." Her voice lilted up at the last second, almost making it a question.

Ah, that flavor of freak. "Teachers say that, sometimes; I like 'curious' more." Kat held her hands up in a mollifying gesture. "I've never seen a spellbook before. Magic isn't really my thing." Before she came to Freedom, Kat had been certain that the stories about how much supernatural was packed into one place had been exaggeration. A few days of walking the halls in Claremont had told her otherwise, until now she hadn't really mingled with magicians. So she found magic more interesting that chemistry. Criminal, right? Kat reluctantly let her eyes fall to the table. "L I is lithium right?" She tapped its place on the table with a finger and hmmed.

She lowered her shoulders and shot Marcus a wonderfully sullen expression before the mask cracked open into a half-smile. Kat pulled her own book out and dropped it on the table and fell back into her chair, all but lounging back in it. "Uh, Hydrogen, Carbon, Oxygen, Aluminium, Iron . . . ?" As her mind scrabbled, looking for answers, her eyes wandered, searching for a distraction, in agreement that whichever found something first would decide what to do. Her eyes caught something before her head did. That book wasn't like anything Kat had ever seen before, and her gazed locked on it. It was an old tome, with the sort of lock that you might put on your diary if it said where you hid the bodies. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "What's that?"

he seemed okay, as far as Kat could tell. A little quiet. Kinda absent-minded. She released his hand and hid her embarrassment behind a huff. "Sciences, mostly," she surrendered, following alongside Marcus inside the library. As far as Kat knew, everyone attending Claremont was some flavor of freak. She wondered what kind Marcus was. Maybe some super-science type, if he was going around tutoring people? "Chemistry's been kicking my ass." Kat crossed her arms behind her back and made a face. "They want us to learn the whole table!"

Chewing at the inside of her gums, Kat nodded, once. "Right." Her voice was terse and tight and raw. She was the one who let go first, pushing away from the older girl and deliberately avoiding looking at any ravage piece of her room. "Right." She took a step away and ran a hand over her face. When she recollected herself she offered Kristin a sliver of a smile more authentic than a wide and clear one. Her eyes looked a little red. "Thanks, Kristin."

"Ready? You kidding?" Kat smiled wide, feeling the same giddy rush of terror she always did before a show. "We're gonna blow 'em away!" There was always that nervous tick, that slow dread in her gut that might have been stage fright if it didn't come with such a thrill! She imagined that a gambler must have felt the same way the moment before they set foot into the casino. It was rare for her to be given any central role. There were always prettier girls that better fit the costumes and even now Kat knew she was at best second fiddle to Lady Rebecca's somber, cold distance; but it was a nice step up from playing the character every playwright thought they needed since they'd watched squirrels throw Veruca Salt down a chute. The costume itself was too bulky and too tight, but the designers always went a little crazy when they got to do a period piece. Kat tried to breath in evenly and not get overheated in her regalia, but she'd dealt with much worse. "Fred'll pull through." Kat said, waving at the air as though to brush worries out of it. "He always does."

Kat was, all things considered, not a terrible student. At least that was what she told herself when she tried to avoid looking at the wall of letters that added up to her GPA. Her remedial chemistry grade was getting dangerous. Back in her apartment, it was five minutes before she was to meet her tutor, and Kat was in no hurry. An inky black-red flash engulfed her hand, and it held a new different book each time. Remedial Chemistry, Algebra 1000, A Metahuman History . . . Basic stuff. For a while Kat had tried to explain she didn't need tutoring, and for the first few months they'd believed her. Then they let it slide since she was focusing on bringing her 'gifts' to heel. Then they played dirty; 'no Doom Room until you find a tutor.' She had grumbled some, but it was hard to argue with the lines of letters that kept sneaking into her grades. She plucked a bit of looseleaf and two pencils out of the air before shoving everything off the table into a little black bag. She draped it over a shoulder and checked her phone for the time. Two minutes left. Fifteen seconds and three wary jumps later Kat was walking out of an alley two buildings down from the library, standing on her tip-toes, trying to get a better look at the kids in front. She found recognized her tutor and gave a wave, I’m here. “Marcus, right?†Kat flashed him a smile and stuck out her hand before he could answer. She was not tall, but next to him she looked like a middle school student, at most. If that fazed her she showed no sign. “I’m Kat.â€

Kat's feet, eager to lead her out of the hall and away from the other girls, let Kristin guide them. A little tension that Kat had not realized was there flowed out of her shoulders, but her belly churned when Kat saw where she was being led. There was her room, demolished. There was a numb, hollow place between her ribs that felt like it would crumple inward at any moment. While Kristin spoke, Kat reached up and rubbed at her eyes, blinking furiously. She looked up at Kristin, feeling very small. Something visibly broke in her at the way she said 'You're special,' like a puppet with its strings held tight suddenly held loose. Was anyone peeking inside? She leaned back a little, watched the door for five breaths. No one. Kat shut her eyes tight, threw her arms around Kristin and squeezed as tightly as she dared, in the same way someone lost at sea might cling to a life raft.

Warp Schoolhouse Vandals (7)

Kat went stiff. "Help?" She sputtered. "All he did was give everyone a reason to hate me." \ While Elias had decided to march in and ignore everything and hunt, hunt, hunt the vandal at all costs, he'd decided it would be a great idea to intrude on everyone in the building. Even if he hadn't got in their head, they would have heard him 'shout,' know what he tried to do, and guess why he'd been on her floor, in her room, championing her cause by peeling minds like onions. "Which rumor do you think people are gonna like more?" There was an edge of hysteria in Kat's voice. "'Some telepath with a hero complex went overboard?' Or maybe, 'that T-baby had her friend read everybody's mind?'"

Kat winced at Dorothy's every word and backpedaling as though she was being lashed. Every month that was some new drama from T-babies in Freedom City, around the world. Some preacher or general or citizen would write; they're willing agents of the Terminus, plants left to gain the trust of the world's heroes, ticking time bombs in human skin, waiting for a signal from the dark place that made them. Some allowed for the existence of benign T-babies. But then, they said, even if they aren't aware of it, could they have been planted? Kat bit down on the side of her lip, staring at the raw hatred plain on Dorothy's face. Could they really all be wrong? The thought was not a new one. In the end she was spared from responding when Vrix seized Dorothy and pulled her out the window in the same way an old woman might drag someone out of the room by their ear. Kat chewed on her lip and watched the other students out of the corner of her eye.

Kat was not so lucky. Elias' probe passed through her in a wave, and she felt an unfamiliar mind cascading over the roof of her thoughts, playing voyeur with her eyes, ears and hands and skin. Elias felt the rising tide of rage, not at Elias in particular but at everything and everyone. The abominable voyeur wasn't even far enough to merit more than moving right in next to him. She tapped him three times on the shoulder from behind, wagged her finger no, showed him the back of her hand and swung, not to hurt but to rattle that little psychic brain until it saw stars.

Since invisible castle is down for some reason, I used the chat to get myself a roll. Going for a Stunning Strike against Elias. Did a little power attack shifting to bring her attack down by two and DC up by the same. (21:53:06) Ecalsneerg: It's scary and made of gas. (21:53:12) System: Arichamus rolls 2d20 and gets (11,17)+5=33. I'm . . . actually not sure whether that's a hit or a miss, since it matches your defense exactly. If it's a hit, the save is 19 Fortitude.

GM 'Who the hell?!' 'Some damn telepath is at it again.' 'What was that?' 'I lost my place! Where was I . . .' The fingers of Elias' mind ran over the building, touching every mind, he felt their alarm almost at once, rage, irritation. He saw what they saw. Fingers dropped a book to the floor in the hall and looked to the left and right. A boy winced up from his phone and asked his friends if they heard that. One mind of many stirred. He felt a curse pass through lips that weren't his, and their panic flared bright and hot in Elias' mind. The voice was unfamiliar, but clearly a girl's. She knew a psychic?! He felt a knot of worry tie in his chest - no, her chest as fingers ran over her face. This was a bad idea. I knew it. Knew it. He felt her hands tremble like they were his, felt the way her whimper crawled out of her throat as though he'd choked it.

----- : 16 ????? : 25 Kat : 10

Kat scowled at Elias and took one, two, three steps toward Elias before she heard Kristin. Her eyes swiveled between her rescuer and the meddler. Biting at the side of her lip, she considered deflection, dismissal, lying. Some student had already figured it all out. Crossing both arms in front of her. "Well. . ." She breathed through her teeth. Kat didn't advertise her nature, but she'd been snared; the snoop would definitely look it up, and Kristin would find her answer somewhere else if Kat pretended ignorance. But how to even say it? Oh, that's probably cause I'm a T-baby? Yeah, sure, they'd react real well to that. But then again . . . Kat shrugged, pretending casualness. "That's probably cause I'm a T-baby." She let that hang in the air for a bit. "We should get that checked," Kat turned to Elias, expression turning sour, "as soon as I get this out."

It wasn't pretty. The bed frame had been axed to pieces, literally, so her mattress fell to the floor. They'd painted M O N S T E R across the top. There were little bits of paper no bigger than Kat's thumb scattered around the room. Her drawers had all been thrown open, and her closet too. There was nothing left there now. As Elias peeked under the end table . . . jackpot. A fire axe, abandoned in a hurry. There were a few dots of paint here and there, but the brush and bucket was nowhere to be seen, if there had been any in the first place. Outside, Elias had slipped past Kat without her noticing. She scratched a hand behind her head and gave Kristin her best embarrassed smile. "It's no big deal, I haven't been in the dorm long. Call me Kat." Her brow furrowed. "Elias . . . ?" It wasn't until Kristin noticed that Kat looked and saw the last straggler; not just any straggler, a boy; why was he here? Kat's head swiveled to the strange bald-headed kid as ruffled through her things like he owned the damn place. That was definitely why Kat didn't respond to Kristin's last question. Honest. "What are you doing?!" Her voice was alarm and incredulity, and she pushed through the door after him. A picture she'd taken with her family in costume after a play had been taken out of the frame, and was nowhere to be seen. It was enough to make her forget her intruder for a moment. She leaned down and picked up one of the bits of paper. There was color on one side. She recognized it like a piece of an old, familiar puzzle, and knew where the photo had gone. Kat breathed a word that would have turned heads in the Fens. Her eyes turned to Elias. "Get out of my room!" Kat hissed, pointing toward the door. "I won't ask twice."

Kat hadn't mingled much with the kids, but she recognized Kristin, though she couldn't say exactly when she'd heard it. Some meet-and-greet at the dorm, maybe. She hadn't paid much attention. Now, with the other girls swarming around her like circling crows before Kristin swept in and shooed them all, Kat was definitely paying attention now. A little of the tension in Kat's shoulders melted away as she smiled up at Kristin, shaky but earnest. She Shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, Kat turned and looked again. She closed her eyes for a long moment and opened them again; the graffiti was still there. Surprise! Where would it have gone? Kat snorted and rolled her eyes at her own delusion. "Yeah," Kat resisted a nervous urge to swallow. "This is my room." She looked over her shoulder at a few of the stragglers, still watching but scattered. Kat's voice went low, hoping none of them had hearing that could have picked her up. "They're like hawks, thanks for that . . ." She made a face waved a hand, trying to conjure a name out of memory. ". . .Kirstin?" Kat asked, half an apology, pronouncing it with an I before the R.

OOC for this thread, with Errant and Glow.

When Kat reached her dorm floor she was humming to the tune of School’s Out, and tossed her keys into the air, watched them spin and snatched them right out of the air. There was a spring in her step and a smile on her face. The smell of fresh paint made her wrinkle her nose. What is that? She caught her keys and made a disgusted face. It had been a while since she’d been given a rundown on the dorm rules, but she figured that giving it a new paint job was pretty high on the ‘Must Avoid’ list. Kat could hear the murmur of students wondering, and the closer she got to her room the louder it got. She quickened her pace— “whodidâ€â€”shoved her keys back into her pockets—“howwhenwhyâ€â€”she shook her head no, licked her lips and worried anyway—“wholiveshere?†When she turned the last corner, she found a gaggle of half a dozen kids standing in front of her door, muttering and gossiping. Their eyes were wide and expressive, their voices morbid fascination. They crowded around her door, trying to get a closer look. Not one of them looked back toward her. “Hey. Hey!†On stage, actors had to talk loud enough for the whole audience to hear—not shouting, no, but their voices had to carry, had to be heard. Kat had learned the trick of it, and when she spoke the students stopped talking and turned to look at her as one. “Let me through, that’s my room.†They exchanged nervous looks. A whisper there, a whisper here. A few of them stepped aside, their eyes always falling back to Kat, and there it was. The lock was busted, completely busted, and someone had taken the time to leave three letters in a slant across her door in drippy red paint. C O O G E T O U T The crowd’s voices started rising again. “—so sorry—" A half-dozen curious students, all looking to her for answers. "—know who did this?" She barely heard them; her eyes were fixed on the door. "—does it mean?†CoO. Child of Omega, or as the pundits had taken to saying, T-baby. Powered by the Terminus, the most vile force in the multiverse. Even if the other students didn’t make the connection, Kat did. After all, she was one of them.

The wind whistled. Grass rustled. A Door creaked. Kat turned toward the house, her body tense until she saw her mother’s silhouette outlined in light. “Lilly?†She stepped forward, her arms coiled around herself in defense against winter. “Is something wrong?†Her mouth was slightly open, eyes almost sad. It hurt to see her sad, a little, so Kat put on her best smile and took two steps forward, crossing her arms behind her back. “Nah Mom, I just had to get out.†She rolled her eyes. “If I have to hear about their broken tractor one more time . . .†“Katharine! They’re family!†Her mother put both hands on her hips, but her mouth tried to twitch into a smile, and the worry fell out of her eyes. Convinced she’d found a good angle, Kat kept going. “Oh come on,†she waved her hand as though to brush the thought aside, “I’m sure whatever they’re on about is just fascinating, but I . . .†Her mother took another step forward, and put a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “Lilly, I know it might not be the most exciting thing in world. But they’re family, and they’ve barely seen you all year. They miss you. Come inside.†Kat knew they didn’t. But she had been at Claremont for the past two years, learning the ins and outs of her own powers—sleeping in a room full of power nullifiers to make sure she didn’t dream of astronauts and wake up on the moon. Kat blinked away the tears rising behind her eyes. Her aunt and uncle and cousins didn’t miss her. Mama was talking about herself. She threw her arms around her mother and hugged her—not tight; she’d probably do her Mom an injury if she did. Kat shut her eyes and felt her mother’s hand running over her hair. “I'm sorry, Mama. I will.†It was at that moment that the laughter stopped and the lights went dead.

Kat understood why uncle’s farm might be called beautiful. Fields stretched far as the eye could see, interrupted by a single long, gravel road. Old barns and granaries rose around the farmhouse, all clean, with clear blue skies. Objectively, Kat knew that it was beautiful. But mostly, it seemed lonely. When they’d arrived, Kat had been prepared for the thanksgiving routine. For the laughter at things she did not understand and the talk of the bad harvest and cheek pinching and ‘how you’ve grown’ and ‘any handsome boys?’ Kat endured it and smiled and shook hands until she couldn’t take any more, and escaped for a short moment out the back. She was wearing a little plain, black dress. The air felt cold on her skin, and the sun was setting. Kat walked out to the edge of the porch and let her hands rest on railing, rough and scratchy under her fingers. Kat closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose, the near-winter air filling her lungs to the brim. There was a murmur of warmth and light behind her. Kat sighed, propped her shoulder against the wood and let her chin sit in her hand. She stared up at the silver sickle of a moon. She longed for of chrome and metal and people; for the high walls of a city rising around her.

There we go, I think I've got everything worked out now.

It occurred to me that, even after having written up a character and hung out in chat . . . I never actually came and introduced myself. Opps. I'm Freely, long time PbP player and Mutants and Mastermind novice. I heard Granspear talking about it and followed him back. I'm a college student sitting right in the middle of the united states. So far the welcome I've gotten is nothing less than stellar.

Those formatting errors should be fixed now, assuming some roman numerals have not escaped me. Skills are no longer bracketed. I shifted two points from Charisma to leave some open for strength and changed all modifiers accordingly. Skills should be cut down to 52. Language is no longer listed. Her portal is no longer easy. Disintegration now has the 'Action' flaw, to bring it down to four per level again. I'm a little surprised that dimensional pocket was used that way, since it seems to read like a snare that you can struggle out of with a Will save. I am perfectly willing to never use the 'attack' aspect of it to keep this power for Warp if it comes down to that. Actually, I'll take that out of her DC block right now. After talking in chat, I've brought the rank down to five and piled tons of progression bonuses on top.