"Could be a lost stranger trying to get out of the storm," Gil said, unbelieving of his own theory. "Or not. But I doubt that our bad guy is this obvious."

Either way, he started for the door.

Dropping out of Scaly McScalyface’s arms, Scraps began sniffing around.
- rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 6,1.  Figure things out.
= Hold 1.      Why yes, thank you, I believe I will.

When Goodwill heads for the door, a nearby security guard stops him. "Hey, wait, don't open that yet," he says. "It'll set off an alarm. Let me turn that off for a minute..." He uses a key, and unlocks the door. "There you go. You gonna go fly around 'r somethin'?"

The guard gives Scorch Scale a nervous look.


Suddenly, Tempest hears the door unlock from the inside.

Tempest was pulling out a hair pin from her hair, one of the ones she normally used to keep that red wig on when she was Libby.  But it was also useful, as any adventuress knows, in disabling locks!

So good, in fact, as she brought it to level the keyhole, the lock seemed to disable itself!

She blew away a strand of brown hair that had fallen over her eyes and squinted suspicious at the door.

Then she decided that it might be wise to listen to see what was going on on the other side of the door.

So she leaned her cheek against the door, and listened.

Inside, Gil put a finger to his lips to shush the guard, then pulled the door open.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:44, Thu 28 Mar 2019.

Tempest had turned her cheek as she leaned in toward the door.  It seemed further in than she had remembered.  Then she lost balance and fell forward.

Tempest caught herself though, her hands pressed in front of her against the wall.

Wait, that wasn't a wall.  It was a broad chest.  She turned her head up and saw Goodwill.

"Oh."  Her eyes widened just a bit.

This was awkward.

Scorch Scale made an "ahem" noise on seeing this development.

"Come back tomorrow, ma'am. The museum is closed. Unless you're our thief...?" Scorch Scale said, wanting his confidence to cover that he was on edge from his senses getting tipped off as they did.

"Okay, she's obviously not our thief," Gil said. He put his hands on the girl's upper arms and gently peeled her off his chest. This wasn't the first time someone peeping or listening at a door had fallen in on him, truth be told. It was a weekly occurrence, give or take. Almost always girls. "That would be way too easy. But he's right, miss: Museum is closed."

"Oh.  Uh."  She allowed herself to be peeled off.

Tempest managed not to blush, that would have been very unsuperherolike.  That was a word now, deal with it.  She motioned to her outfit, which was a little too form-fitting and a little too short in the skirt department to really fit in anywhere but in superhero circles, or maybe a cocktail party in the right company.  She was obviously not the average museum-visitor, especially not the kind that would be coming in via the rooftop access.

"I was flying overhead and saw some old hippy-looking guy dressed in a guard uniform sneaking in and I thought I better come down and check it out."

She explained quickly, trying to take the subject off her falling into Goodwill and onto the task at hand.

"What do you think, Scraps? We trust her?" Gil believed that Scraps was the best judge of character he'd ever met, just slightly edging out Grandma-Mom. He would rely on the puppy's unerring judgment now.

Old hippy huh? Why that sounded atypical, at least for normal people.

"We're looking for something a millennium old, hand held masterpiece." Scorch Scale told to remind Goodwill of the thief.

"From a territory of the Romans, no wait, Vikings. Or was it Normans... You know, those insignificant isles that took over much of the world."

Scraps looked at Temptest a moment, before giving a playful bark, and running over to viciously make himself available for any pats that she might feel the need to provide.

Yeah, that will learn her!

Trust her?  What wasn't there to trust.  Obviously Tempest wasn't here to steal stuff.  What did she look like, some kind of criminal?  Or worse yet, a supervillain.   Suddenly, she felt a rush of self-consciousness.  Did she look like a villain?  She tried really hard to smile.  Smile more, her mother would always say.  You're so pretty when you smile.

But here she was, called out on being untrustworthy, and that swell of doubt, self-consciousness, it was getting in the way of smiling.  Her eyes widened again, like a deer caught in the headlights until ....


BARK!


Her eyes settled on Scraps.  Super-Scraps?

She promptly ignored everyone else and crouched down to pet the Wonder Dog.  "Who's a good boy?  Oh, it's you.  Such a good boy.  The best boy.  You're the best boy aren't you?"  She lavished him with attention, praise, and scritchy-scratches and pets.

How could you be self-conscious when there's a cute dog to pet!?!

"What's your name, fellah?"

“Bark”
          Lick
                 Pant

... and with that, Scraps was savagely mauling the young woman’s hand with his tummy, as he wriggled on his back ... his tongue and ears competing for the ‘out of his face’ trophy.

"Okay, Scraps, okay. We trust her." It was as if a guy couldn't trust a puppy to maintain a shred of dignity anymore. "Now let's see if she has a name. How might you be called, miss...?"

Scorch Scale was looking around for this hippy person. Let the youthful talk among themselves.

He remembered there was a person to stop.

(Insightful check, please...)

Insight
15:36, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 4 using 2d6+1 ((1,2)).

(Scorch Scale gets 1 new xp, and fate-- having once again betrayed him-- starts getting up to extra shenanigans that he'll find out about soon...)

Scotscare was quite contented that he couldn't find his thief here. Seeing that this group seemed to socialize with themselves, Scorch Scale went on to try and find the prize of the hunt, to intercept the hunter that way.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:30, Mon 01 Apr 2019.

Where does he look, exactly?

His first destination would be (do mind I haven't been to that museum myself IRL) to go to any ancient Greek/Roman Empire parts, stuff from their occupied territories at least.

(I made it up)

 

The museum has the following sections:
--PREHISTORY, which seems to mean "everything before the ancient Egyptian era,"
--EGYPTIAN ERA, which seems to mean "everything we know that happened before the Greek era,"
--GREEK/ROMAN ERA, which seems to mean everything that happened between the Egyptian Era and about 400 A.D.,
--MEDIEVAL ERA, which seems to mean everything from about 400 A.D. to about 1350,
--RENAISSANCE ERA, which seems to mean everything from about 1350 to about 1600,
--COLONIAL ERA, which seems to mostly mean 1600 to the end of the American revolution,
--19TH CENTURY TO TODAY, which seems to mostly mean things from the American Civil War to World War I.

Scorch Scale goes to Medieval Era section first. It was most likely to have stuff of British Isles.

Oh the times Drocan likely had interacting with those people.

There's a man there, in a guard's uniform, with long white hair, quietly collecting some small objects from an exhibit.

Even from across the room, Scorch Scale very much does not like the way the man smells. He smells like burnt leather and black pepper and gravedust.