The crowd stayed well away from the two unexpected nova guests as they moved down the aisle.  The heat that Flare radiated unconsciously in response to her anger helped keep people at arms distance, but they likely would have stayed away from the "satan-touched" novas regardless.

For a few seconds, the happy new couple were shocked into silence by Flare and Gale.  Likely they hadn't expected both of them to be there.  Perhaps there was even a bit of parental guilt as well.  But they recovered quickly.  "Don't leave children, don't turn your back on God!  He loves you!  Jesus saves!  We can be together again!"  The two of them continued to spout platitudes and Michaelist propaganda as the two women walked away, though they made no effort to chase after them.

For a moment it seemed that they would escape the scene with nothing worse than a few unpleasant pictures in the tabloids, but that hope was cut short as a boy screamed in pain nearby.  The child, a boy of perhaps 10, crumpled to the floor screaming "It burns, it BURNS daddy!  Mommy, daddy, stop the burning!!!"  The heat radiating off of Flare wasn't hot enough to burn, it was uncomfortable at best, and the child was a foot away.  Psychosomatic response from fear of the devil-tainted novas?  Some sort of strange medical condition? Or perhaps impressive acting, paid for with Michaelist money?  The reason was irrelevant at this point, as it pushed the crowd into a screaming frenzy.  "The monsters are killing the children!"  "Stop them!"  "Shoot them before the boy dies!" "Demons!"

Well armed security guards, too well armed for this sort of event, aimed assault rifles at the novas and fired.  The bullets wouldn't normally pierce the eufiber suits that nearly every member of T2M wore on and off duty, but they were heavy rounds designed to penetrate armor.  And with powers already weakened, nova skin wasn't enough protection.  A single bullet grazed Gale's side, leaving a painful gash that despite the abundance of blood was only a minor wound.  Flare's injuries were more extensive however.  A bullet penetrated her shoulder and lodged shallowly underneath her right clavicle, while another penetrated her hip and was stopped by the quantum reinforced bone of her pelvis.

The guards continued to advance, but stopped firing when they saw blood, shocked looks on their faces.  Apparently, none of them had expected to do any real damage.  They continued to hold their fire as they maintained a safe distance, likely to avoid hitting any of the crowd.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…”  Someone kept repeating that phrase amidst the chaos as pain exploded through Flare’s body.  She realized it was her.

“Gale…Gale” Flare couldn’t see beyond the men with the guns, and the wedding guests, to find her sister.  She was surrounded by monsters, and too weak to fight them.

She began crawling, the cameras snapping like gun fire as she slipped in her own blood; distantly she realized she must have hit the ground when she was shot.

The cameras got coverage that would likely insight debate and uproar, a nova laid low, crawling due to normal human bullets.   Seeping normal human blood and weeping normal human tears, despite her best efforts.

“Gale!”  Where was she?  Gale had been right next to her, she couldn’t be dead.  Flare wouldn’t believe it!

Finally a few people moved to the side and Flare could finally see her sister’s wings.  She was alive, and looked to be standing!  “Gale! Over here-oomph…”

Her injured shoulder couldn’t support her weight any longer and Flare collapsed on her side.  Over the buzzing in her ears she could make out the sounds of chaos.

Her throat closed with unfamiliar pain and she choked on her own tears as the cameras kept rolling.

“Gale…” and quietly, unable to help herself, “Dillon…”

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
There we go! I finally get back to posting with Flare as a pathetic victim!

---

Gale's hand went to her side where she was struck and came back covered in blood.  Well, that was a little surprising.  To be able to do that, they had to be using powerful ammunition.  It was bad enough they had been lured out here, been proselytized against, and now they had been fired upon for no reason?  She was about to make some comment when she saw Flare fall next to her.

"Flare?  Flare!"  The winged woman hurried to her friend's aid, pulling her off the ground into her arms.  Her clawed hands threatened to dig into Flare's skin, but she did her best to control her fury, trying to hold her sister gingerly in her arms.  This was bad.  Flare needed a hospital.  She turned to look directly at the gunmen, eyes full of fierce anger.  "Now you've gone too far.  Get out of my way."  A wind kicked up around her, rustling her feathers and throwing her hair around.

She took a step forward, daring the guards to fire again.  "Get. out. of my. way."  If she had to, she would summon her wind shield and fly out of here.  She probably had just enough juice to do it.

The crowd parted, intimidated by the show of quantum power and the storm raging in Gale's eyes.  The guards were reticent to move, fear of novas warring with elation at their surprising success.  The boy continued to scream, as did the rest of the crowd, when a new voice suddenly boomed out over the crowd via the speakers.

"Let them leave!  The law will judge them, and god, but we cannot risk them hurting the crowd in their hateful attempts to harm us!  Go you ungrateful children, you were welcomed back to your parents with open arms, but you spurned them.  So GO!  Be gone from here Satan's minions, GO!"

The minister's lines were likely scripted, but they had the desired effect.  The guards parted, some wearing a look of relief, others disappointed that they wouldn't get to kill a nova for the lord.

Flare leaned against Gale, trying to not let the words of the pastor bother her.  It probably showed on her face though.

“Ignore them, Gale,”  Flare murmured, leaning against her winged friend for support, “They’re…they’re just not worth listening to.”

Flare tried to stay upright, to stay proud, but the weight of words like ‘demon’ and ‘monster’ lay much heavily on her now that she was nearly powerless.  It had been much easier when she could just fly away laughing.

Slowly, pathetically slowly, she made her way out of the tent.  Flare was torn.  She didn’t want to hurt people, even after being shot, but damnit, she was a nova!  She couldn’t just take this lying down could she?

“What do we do Gale?  I want to destroy them all.  I know there’d be hell to pay afterwards, but I hate them.” Weakened as she was, Flare couldn’t help but let whisper a truth she’d tried to deny. “I hate baselines. All of them.  All they do is hate, and kill, and maim.”  A tear escaped as she called a small fire into her hands, “I want to maim right back.”  She looked into Gales eyes, “Should we?”

She trusted Gale more than she trusted herself at this moment.  She wanted to kill them, and equally wanted to leave.

Gale was surprised at Flare’s admission.  More importantly, she was surprised that her first instinct wasn’t revulsion, but agreement.  Certainly in her experience, baselines had continually mistreated her, including her own family.  She’d fought for them, survived a nuke for them, and what did they do now?  Still treated her as if she was the monster.  All based on little more than her appearance.

She wanted to yell at them, to tell them what horrible parents they were to treat their own flesh and blood like this.  She wanted to shake them, to smack the crowd down with their own hate filled rhetoric.  She wanted to cry, to let out all the pain that she’d stuffed down in their name.  She wanted to follow Flare’s cue and destroy them all.  Unfortunately, (or perhaps, fortunately) the roiling stew of emotions and thoughts prevented her from choosing just one.  Flare was seriously hurt, and for that, she at least knew what she should do.  ”No, let’s get out of here.”  The winged woman tucked an arm under Flare’s knees, the other catching her just under the arms as she lifted her sister from the ground.

She turned to cast one last look at the crowd.  Her eyes caught Jimmy’s, and they narrowed, still burning with hurt and anger.  His betrayal cut the deepest.  Turning back to the exit, she extended her wings and leapt into the air, adding a downdraft that would knock most of the nearby crowd from their feet.  It was a petty gesture, but in some sense, it made her feel a little better.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
This takes place roughly 1 month before [Story Arc #6]  New Beginnings.  Please, PLEASE include the title of the vignette you are replying to at the top of your post.  Makes it easier to track.  Thank you, and enjoy.

---

Debts Paid
Lunch was a questionably pleasant affair, reminding Dillon of simpler times, and Gale of life’s bittersweet vicissitudes.  Thorn, the team leader of T2M:E, chose the Café Bellagio.  After spending a rare night off with Gale, he wanted to see the former leader of T2M:A the next day before heading back to Europe.  Thorn had left nearly an hour ago, but the two lingered, each lost in their own thoughts.

Only a few tables over, a young girl, perhaps 16, dined alone.  She had an uncanny charm and innocence about her; an experienced eye could easily mark her as a nova.  The wait staff treated her kindly, but she was clearly uncomfortable and out of her element.  She was even more uncomfortable when the restaurant refused to take her card, or rather the card of the famous nova singer Serenade.  No, the girl couldn’t possibly know her, and no, the hotel did NOT allow people to use cards that did not belong to them.  The staff, charmed by young Daphne, were loathe to harass her… but there was a bill that needed paying, and Daphne had nothing but the card Laura had left her with.

---

Thieves in the Night
The Triads were active, very active.  They controlled half of Asia at this point, but they were smarter than the Columbian cartels were.  Acting from the shadows, they smuggled illicit goods and services across the continent and beyond.  That was why they were here, in fact.  The warehouse, a seedy sometimes-club in Hong Kong’s shipping district was a key location for Triad activity, and tonight played host to an out of town smuggler in their service.  What he was smuggling was valuable, and no one outside the Triads wanted them to have it.

Suzukaze, El Dragon, and Operator were exactly the right people for this mission.  Sent by Comstock to investigate, and obtain whatever was being transported.  Suzukaze had the added lure of finding information on her family, while Operator was on retainer.  Dragon, always a sucker for the right cause, was just here to prevent bad people from doing the things bad people do.  The three were situated on a nearby rooftop, formulating their approach.

---

Captive Audience
Fundraisers were such boring affairs.  Rich people with money, being bribed to give that money to other rich people.  Still, it was what one did to become president.  Impetus watched the scene as one of the young novas he was grooming began to sing.  Serenade really did have a lovely voice.   The event was televised, a little concert by the world’s hottest novox artist to stir the opnet and draw attention to imp’s campaign.  Flare was in the audience, or was up until she went to the restroom to get away from the creepy old rich man that kept trying to engage her in conversation.

Herr Forester, the Hell Kraken, stood in the corner.  He was a monolith of industry that was larger, both literally and metaphorically, than the other attendees at the relatively small dinner.  It was meant as an intimate event, set in a pleasant Colorado ski retreat, but untimely weather had caused many cancelations.  Attendees seemed happy, but the Hell Kraken was beginning to wonder why he chose to attend this event, as opposed to next month’s Boston meeting.  Then the entertainment arrived.

The unmistakable sound of automatic weapons fire sounded, signaling that someone at least had managed to penetrate the snow to arrive at the dinner.  Unfortunately the new attendees were not on the guest list.  Armed Michaelists came through the door, a chained,  burning nova man lending his power to their cause.  At the sight of Impetus, two men pulled out handguns and shot themselves out of guilt at opposing him; sometimes the drugs were less effective than others.  The rest fanned out across the room in what was apparently going to be a hostage situation.

---

Chance Meetings
Johnny and Sean stumbled down the alley, leaving the Archon by the back exit.  If asked, they probably wouldn’t be able to explain why they kept coming back together every month; their mutual bravado brought them into constant conflict, but somehow partying in Vegas was less fun separately.  As they loudly debated the merits of nova lass they both had failed to win over earlier in the evening, they literally ran into a blue giant.  They turned a corner, and the nearly 7’ tall blue-tinged man was standing there, leaning against the brick.

Joe had come to the Archon at Terri’s urging.  The woman wanted to see the Archon.  Party with novas, get another thrill.  Joe though, he tired of the starlets and the would-be godlings quickly.  Stepping into the night for some air, he found he just couldn’t get away.  Two more of the abrasive young novas stumbled into him.

Before either party could act, however, a young girl ran by.  All paused to watch the incongruous sight.  She was familiar to everyone for no readily identifiable reason, especially Joe, who felt a dreamlike sense of déjà vu at seeing her.  Seconds passed as the three turned to look at one another, the same confusion painted on each of their faces.  Then, a group of hardened men, all clearly elites or privately employed novas ran by.  They were chasing her.  4 experienced men with quantum powers chasing a young girl… That couldn't have a happy ending.

---

Strained Relationships
Solitaire and Gravitas strode confidently into the St. Petersburg club.  Zmei never advertised, only word of mouth attracted new guests.  The current patrons were a rough crowd comprised entirely of novas.  Elites with (more) violent leanings, nova (and other) supremacists, and of course the Dominion terats that ran the place and used it as a recruiting station.  It wasn’t a place that the ex-Utopians normally frequented, but there was rumor of a planned attack on “something big” running through the Teragen grapevine, and that was bad for everyone.  Someone needed to talk sense into Shrapnel before things went too far.  They were quite surprised to see Phantasm there, talking to a stunning nova woman as she drank at the bar, when they walked in.  Months missing, and they found her here of all places.

Phantasm was having a conversation with a new terat, someone calling herself Baroness, who was trying to find her place in the movement while trying to look like she knew exactly where she belonged.   She was mostly succeeding.  Phantasm caught site of her friends as the crowd parted for them, torn between animosity and grudging awe.  Baroness realized that two of the Teragens brightest stars were in attendance, a rare opportunity to make important contacts in the movement.  A death metal novox band screamed in the background as the crowd waited to see why the two Pantheon members were there.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:41, Wed 18 Sept 2013.

Clad in his characteristic dragon armor, Dragón scanned the area, picking out the elements of the security situation, and then set about picking it apart, tactically.  He worked to take into account the strengths of his two companions.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
23:02, Tue 17 Sept 2013: El Dragon rolled 2 successes using 4d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((8,9,3,1)) Tactical Prodigy.
23:04, Tue 17 Sept 2013: El Dragon rolled 3 successes using 14d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((1,7,9,4,2,4,1,3,6,8, 4,4,3,6)) Tactics.
[ahem]

---

"So," he said quietly, "how do we want to do this?  Hit them while they're all inside, or pick off the smuggler on his own?"

Daphne sat quietly, looking sullen and confused. She had only come down to the restaurant to meet with one of Laura's manager's friends who specialized in helping train new nova in how to deal with their powers. The meeting went about as well as Daphne had expected, which was to say poorly. She felt uncomfortable with almost everyone. Laura had been the only person so far to make her not want to crawl into a hole. He had to leave in a hurry and Daphne offered to pay for the meal. Not knowing that the restaurant would be so unwilling to believe her about Laura being her friend.

Daphne didn't notice the restaurant's manager walk up to her until he spoke. "Excuse me ma'am. I really am sorry to do this, but you need to pay the bill. If you are unable to do so I will be forced to call the police and they will handle this situation."

Daphne jumped a little in her seat when she heard the manager speak. She had still not gotten used to being slightly deaf.

"Look, I have told your staff several times the card I gave you and now you refuse to give me back is in fact Laura Manning's, Serenade. She did give it to me and if you would either call her or her manager, Jessica Schimmels, at the number i told you this could be cleared up. For heaven's sake I didn't even eat or drink anything, Mr. Hinsen ate and had to leave quickly. Do you think we're some pair of bad con artists?"

Daphne slammed her hand down on the table. I wish I had just taken that damn cell phone Laura offered as well. Then I could get a hold of her. Why do these idiots think I am some kind of thief. I just want to be done with this.

The manager blinked and stood his ground. He was used to "friends" of novas and stars coming in and trying these type of things. Though usually it was a promise that said person would pay their tab as soon as possible. With a straight face and a calm voice the manager responded.

"As I am certain that my staff has told you, it is the restaurant's policy not to accept cards except from the people whose name is on them. Especially if the card is for someone as high profile as Serenade, who you obviously are not friends with. I too can name drop with a little research. I am going to go call the cops now, you have until they arrive to figure out how you are going to pay or you can deal with them."

The manager turned around and walked towards the back.

Daphne slammed her hand down on the table again. She considered throwing something at the manager for a second, but realized that making a scene and being arrested for assault were likely to make this even more difficult.

Solitaire smiled and waved at the few friendly faces she saw in the crowd, not that most here looked exactly unfriendly but... They weren't her people in more than the broadest sense of the term. Still, she moved through the room with her usual grace, completely at ease in the midst of this most dangerous of crowds. After all, she knew she was more dangerous than any of them. Still, she was here for a reason, and that was to get a drink, then to have a chat with Shrapnel, but drinks first.

"Two Manhattan Projects if you please, you want anything Grav?" She said upon reaching the bar. The bartender visibly flinched at the order, then steeled himself and reached under the bar for a pair of very thick gloves and what looked like a pair of blacksmiths tongs. The gruff and scarred Elite on the seat next to her decided that he very much wanted a table instead. Solitaire turned away and grinned at Phantasm a few seats down the bar. "Heya Phantasm. Welcome back to the land of the living. Have a good vacation?" Behind her, the bartender struggles with a glowing, violently red liquid, a few drops splatter onto the bar surface and immediately begin to dissolve it.
This message was last updated by the player at 05:01, Wed 18 Sept 2013.

The commotion drew Dillon's attention.  He welcomed the distraction, as he did not yet know what to make of Thorn.  For the sake of Gale, he hoped never to have to fight the man.

"Gale, calm the crowd if things get any weirder, okay?"  His clothes made for a fairly decent disguise -- sunglasses, jeans, t-shirt -- but he knew that there were a few people who probably recognized him anyway.  Best to keep this quick and quell any disorder.  He wiped his hands and wandered over to the other table, expecting Gale to follow close behind.

"They won't take American Express here," Dillon supplied helpfully.  He stared at Daphne for a moment, then pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.  "And nova hoodlums in Las Vegas draw out the Special Unit and its KHI drones.  No sense banging on the table."  For emphasis, he touched one of the forks on the table and asked it to curl up into a new shape.  It chose the shape of a small metal horse.  "I'm Dillon.  That's Gale."  He wasn't exactly being friendly, but he wasn't being unfriendly either.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:45, Wed 18 Sept 2013.

Gravitas, meanwhile, did not emote at any of the residents of the club. He scarcely even acknowledged their existence. Nonetheless, he noted Phantasm's presence as they approached and the individual she was speaking with, whom he did not immediately recognize. Possibilities for who she might be raced through his mind, but he set them aside - if it was relevant, he was sure he'd find out sooner or later.

When Solitaire ordered her pair of drink, Gravitas's expression finally changed - into a frown. "My encounters with nuclear weapons have been less than pleasant," he cybernetic fingers wiggled at his side, "I think I'll avoid any substances named after the project that spawned them. Besides, I gave up drinking a long time ago. There doesn't seem to be a point anymore." Not to mention that he wasn't sure his body was actually able to withstand the chemicals that went into the 'drink', despite his enhanced physiology. He was tough because of his powers and the shielding he'd learned to generate with them, not because his physical body was invulnerable, as Solitaire's was.

"I'm amazed any nova with enhanced senses can stand to be within a mile of this place," he said, wincing as the pitch of the music climbed. A mental projection indicated that there was likely to be an ultrasonic verse coming up soon. He wondered if the proprietors specifically chose their glassware to withstand the vibrations. "This band's volume is only trumped by how terrible they are. They wouldn't know a harmony if it broke down their door and beat them with their own instruments." He waved at Phantasm as Solitaire addressed her; he silently wished his power set included the ability to nullify mechanical vibrations.

Baroness kept tight control over her features while she listened to Phantasm. She kept the edge of her lips resting at a smile--not too eager but certainly not bored. Her finger toyed with the rim of her martini glass filled with a vodka that implied class without being showy. Her body tilted slightly against the bar--relaxed while presenting a respect to her first real contact from Teragen. All of her features worked in harmony to appear as if she entirely understood everything Phantasm was saying--even if she was missing every other word under the music. Of course, she didn't think about any of these subtitles anymore. They were as natural as breathing.

She found it all a little easier with the seemingly young woman though. She rather enjoyed Phantasm's confidence and her youthful qualities were a relief for a woman who had spent a good amount of her time dealing in corporate intrigue. She had a nagging suspicion that it was more than just personal opinion making her feel those things---but sometimes it was nice to be fooled. Or at least fantasize over what that felt like again.

She could sense the shuddering shift in the room long before she saw Solitaire and Gravitas. She knew power when she saw it and she could practically smell it wafting off the two and over the crowd. She didn't let her gaze linger for longer than a fraction of a second before putting her focus back to Phantasm. There was only the smallest shift in her posture, becoming more formal and reverential, to indicate she had taken notice. She was betting on even that being noticed by the group. She sat quietly behind her face as the three caught up, knowing it would be no good to try and shove her way into the center of attention even if it was her natural inclination.

The hiss and pop of the red "drink" splatter seemed to catch the attention of her homunculus that had been resting at her feet. It quickly scampered, all awkward limbs and high-pitched garbles, up to the bar top. She reached out, letting out a soft tut and, "Now-Now, off the table." She scooped the hideous thing up and set it in her lap, petting it until it stopped its squirming and grasping at the spots of acid until it curled up in her lap like a grotesque pet. She looked back to the group with a smile that was equal parts apology and love for her little beast.

Impetus was enjoying the music, and the conversation he was having with a bright young nova named Elon Musk.  The man had been brilliant before he erupted, but after his eruption at a sales pitch for his latest project, he had become even more impressive.  The sound of gunfire outside and the intrusion of the Michaelites was unfortunate, but not unexpected.  This would add to the growing arsenal his team of novas, hired from Anna, of course, would use to dismantle the Church, or to get it taken off the list of accepted religious organizations.  His own machinations to get them branded a terrorist organization would certainly benefit as well.  As the gunmen were still moving through the doors he was in motion, glowing with power, radiating majesty, and telekinetically ripping guns out of the men's hands.  " Serenade, get down!" Regardless of what drugs the men might have taken, he drew every eye in the room.  With their attention focused on him, Kraken, or flare  would be free to incapacitate the chained nova.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Wed 18 Sept 2013.

" An' Ah'm telli you, boyo, that that toothsome lil' cutlet was totally inna me until ye' tried t' get her t't drink tha 3 Mile, ye cock blocked me good an true." His tirade ended abruptly as he bounced off the blue wall, "Jaysus onna pogo stick, 's th' sneaky blue giant, why ya here, impersonating a wall fer, bay?" He burbled.
He sobered remarkably quickly as he saw the young lady running from the thugs. "No time fer tha' now, Babe, " he waved a hand at Joe, before the giant could respond, " There's a damsel in distress, bays! Time fer some derrin do! Paidrag's happy/confrontational party vibe had switched to full on belligerence.  " Oy, cock smokers! Th' young lady's under our protection!" he waved a hand at Johnny and the blue giant, " Y'want a piece of her, you're gonna have t' go though us!" As he spoke his skin and clothes rippled, flesh and fabric submerging and shining black metal and chrome emerging.  As he shifted he grew larger, until he stood head and shoulders above Joe.  Massive black armored panels covered his form, and the pistons and bundles of hydraulics that made up his muscles bulged ominously.  In a voice eerily reminiscent of Optimus Prime he boomed, "YE REALLY ITCHIN T' DO THIS, LADS?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
successes from shapeshift spent on: growth (1 sux), armor (3 sux) M. Dex (1 sux). 3 sux on density control.  stats: M. Str 5, M Dex 2, +9 l/b soak.

---

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:29, Wed 18 Sept 2013.

Half-lidded and irritated, that just about summed up... well, everywhere. At least in the ocean very few people wanted to talk to you, or touch you, or be near you. This was a terrible idea, and after an hour of staring at bottles of liquor that he could no longer adequately drown himself in he'd ducked out, only maintaining the weakest of links with Terri, listening to the low-key buzz of her unique blend of body pathogens fighting with whatever she was imbibing.

He broke it off when his refuge was intruded upon and again, another casual query to the microsphere to look for the telltale conversations of Eufiber and the exotic cellular structures of Novas. Then the brash Irishman included him in his pronouncement.

He opened his hands and shrugged in an incongruous, curiously boneless gesture of peace. He tried diplomacy, something a twenty six year old him would have sneered at; but with age came patience and caution.

"I'm not here to fight anyone. If everyone would stop for a moment, perhaps we can resolve this?"

Operator surveyed the warehouse carefully, clad in simple black, with precious little equipment save a few name tags, a black marker, and some note cards.

"I'm tempted to try the infiltration route. Get them to sell the item to us. Or hand it off to us for transport. Make them do the heavy lifting. I have the feeling though, that with all the unknowns at play here, we'd run a real chance of just getting stuck in a crossfire. All things said and done, I'm more comfortable with an infilitration approach, which I can help with. From what I saw of you on Europa, I'm sure you can handle the thugs. It's the nova presence I'm worried about. Any ideas about what's inside? Kaze, you have any insight to add?"

Daphne was trying to compose herself as the two strangers walked up to her. Yet again being caught slightly unaware, Daphne jumps in her seat as Dillon speaks to her.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed your lunch, sir." Daphne looked down at the table for a moment before looking up to get a good look at her new guests. "It wasn't really my intention to disturb others, it has just been a bad few months and..."

Daphne's words trail off as she gets a good look at Gale. She stares at Gale with her mouth slightly open for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before she catches herself. "Uhhh... sorry, I am not used to meeting novas. Especially ones so... Sorry where are my manners, my name is Daphne. I'm new around here and haven't really met many people or managed to do much more than make a mess of things. It really seems to be my talent right now." Daphne gives a slightly nervous laugh and smiles in a vague attempt to defuse the situation a little.

One would think men would be intimidated by a Nova who tended to light things and people on fire when she was irritated, but not so for Captain Creepo.

And then, of course, things really went to hell.  She stored the cute emerald clutch that matched her slinky dress in a potted plant.  It was so hard to keep accessories during fights.

"I swear to God, I can't even go to the bathroom without Michaelist cockroaches crawling all over the place."

With Imp providing a strong distraction, Flare kicked off her three inch heels and began maneuvering through the room, under a table and around a large man who was beginning to hyperventilate.  If she could stay out of the main rush (and if that burning Nova was actually using fire rather than plasma or something) she should be able to negate his powers. Once that was handled, beatings could commence.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)

14:49, Today: Flare rolled 5 successes using 12d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 with rolls of 6,5,1,7,3,10,3,7,3,7,8,2. Being sneaky, charlie. (6 with that 10)

 14:51, Today: Flare rolled 5 successes using 10d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 with rolls of 8,5,1,1,4,10,10,8,7,6. EM using excitation to cool the nova. (7 with 10's) Not sure this will quite do what I want, but I'm trying to put him out, basically, maybe a contested roll to repress his powers if he is using fire.  Will do diddly if it is another burny thing)

---

Phantasm smiled at Baroness's little monster, and at her manipulative ploys. A woman after her own heart perhaps, though given her concern with the trappings of social power, perhaps not.  Still, the creature was cute... Unlike the large terat between her and the empty seats her friends were occupying.  Phantasm's smile disappeared.  Solitaire had moved one, but this last was too obstinate, or perhaps too stupid, to move.

A wide gesture, pointing away from the bar and impossible for the big nova to miss. "Leave.  I don't want you there."  The man thought he was dangerous, gave his best "make me" look, and made the mistake of meeting Phantasm's eyes.  There were dreams there, of his boyhood, of happy times, innocent fantasies.  He was lost in that gaze until he saw Phantasm suddenly shift for an instant, the haze of fantasy stripped away to reveal something terrible, anathema to all that was normal and right and wholesome.  The vision in her eyes changed as well, to the hours he spent in the closet, hiding from his step-father's metal-studded belt. "Leave.  Or I will rip out your eyes."  Then she smiled again, waiving at her friends, the vision of terror a moments fancy, a fleeting hallucination.  He ran.

Sliding down the bar to the vacated seat, Phantasm replied to Solitaire.  "Hmm.  Yeah, I think so.  Exercised some demons, did a bit of thinking, learned a few new tricks.  Food was good too.  I don't have to eat, but sometimes it's nice...  Oh, my new friend here calls herself Baroness, she's apparently a Terat, might be you could point her in the right direction?"  Phantasm looked at Baroness, a raised eyebrow and smile implied a cordial "you're welcome, now step up" and predatory "you owe me" simultaneously.  "Grav, the music isn't bad if you block out the upper octaves completely and then block out the lead singer.  It helps a lot, and the beat is fairly good, kind of a tribal thing going." 

She was getting stares.  She was shifted, body and clothing both, enough that she wasn't readily recognizable as Phantasm to anyone that didn't know her.  The terats in the room were surely confused by a relative nobody talking to the Teragen luminaries so casually.  "So, what brings you to Zmei?"
This message was last updated by the player at 00:11, Fri 20 Sept 2013.

”You worry too much,” Gale said in response to Dillon’s orders to keep an eye on the crowd.  There wasn’t much of one to begin with, and most of the ones watching were distracted by her anyway.  The woman with wings was an easy distraction.

Even Daphne cemented that point by gawking at her, to the point that Gale raised a brow in concern.  This girl was a nova, wasn’t she?  But not used to meeting novas…nah, she couldn’t be that fresh, could she?  ”Ones so obvious?” she offered, finishing the sentence for her with a smile.  ”C’mon, ‘Stock, she’s a newbie.  Go easy on her.”  Comstock was probably right to be a little paranoid, but Gale knew the look that Daphne had given her.  The look of sheer awe at seeing someone so different that one isn’t even sure how to relate.  An enemy would not have let such a thing happen.

”Excuse me,” she called the waitress over.  ”A round of coffees for the three of us, and tell your manager to cancel that phone call and return this young lady’s card."  She gave the aproned lady a disarming smile.  "You don’t mind, do you?”  She added, turning back to the table.

Comstock shrugged.  He was confident now that Daphne wasn't lying.  But like Gale, he was incredulous at Daphne's lack of experience and youth.  'Course, one of your first nova friends was a teenage shape-shifter with an impenetrable poker face.  You might be getting paranoid, Dillon.

Wilhelm was at something of a loss.  A few simple guns couldn't do anything to him, but any efforts he undertook to stop the people with the guns would probably cause all sorts of collateral damage.  And that would be bad PR.  In fact, seeming to do much of anything overtly aggressive would likely have bad PR effects what with all the cameras present in the room.  Better to be subtle.  He'd finally settled on a course of action, turning the firing pins in all the guns to taffy with his mind, when Impetus started throwing people around telekinetically.  "Ein bisschen ... grob.  Nicht sehr staatsmännisch."  Well, who was Wilhelm to criticize.  He wasn't the one running for president.  He settled for sealing the nova that the terrorists had brought in a ether-summoned, hermetically-sealed sphere of cubic boron nitride before trying to look inconspicuous.

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
3 successes on a generally crap roll for Matter Creation.  Still enough to make something big enough it will take a couple people to move with slightly more soak than a tank.

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Johnny shook his head to sober up and nodded to the huge blue man.  "That ain't gonna work.  My elite friend there hasn't backed down from anything short of a killbot."  Johnny Afterburner didn't go anywhere without his coat and his jetpack, but he detached a metal piece from the backpack that unfolded into a full helmet.

An amplifier carried his voice effectively, and a low two-tone siren sounded from another gadget to signal to the public that they should steer clear.  "Best step back, citizen.  I think I'm going to have to keep the peace here."  Johnny hastily pulled on a pair of leather gloves and cracked his fists, secretly thrilled that he was going to get to do some brawling.

Joe shrugged and slowly backed away, his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Well, I won't stand in your way then. You two have fun."

He looked toward the Elites.

"See? Not with them. I'm the friendly one. Don't hit me."

Man, Joe thought. Clubbing sucked.
This message was last updated by the player at 03:46, Thu 19 Sept 2013.