Comstock waited at one of the many safe houses they had set up over the last year.  The actual location was unknown to anyone but Dillon and the ‘porters.  Anyone that wanted in had to take a leap of faith, even billionaire industrialists being courted for sponsorship.

Hell Kraken was convinced to come at the urging of both Comstock and Impetus.  He was not initially involved with the Vigilance movement, but the two former Utopians had convinced the terat that there was the potential for a productive partnership.  The movement needed funding, resources, technology, connections, all of which Kraken Industries had in abundance.  Kraken Industries needed… well, nothing so concrete, and need was a strong word to use, but the company and its founder could benefit from being part of a pervasive nova social movement.  The potential to shape social change, or even to just react to it before competitors, was not to be underestimated.

Dillon would have to sell the idea though.  Thus the tour of the facility, gathered novas, coaching from Phantasm and her continued presence at his side, and the speech he was about to make explaining Vigilance.  As soon as his people returned from their deployments of course.  It was bad timing, but there weren’t many other options, not if Vigilance was going to be more than a social club.  At least they didn’t have to wait for the impromptu teams to return to get a report on what was happening: opnet feeds were so ubiquitous these days that the group could watch the scenes unfold live.

Singapore
Operator and Wheelman were Elite.  That one word carried many meanings: a select few, the best of the best, warriors of fortune, novas for hire.  And at this exact moment, outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered.  DeVries seldom miscalculated, but the Malaysian billionaire had neglected to inform the agency that he was in debt to the Chinese cartels and refusing to pay.  The mogul’s business trip to Singapore resulted in a destroyed plane and a running fight that led from the airport into the city proper.  The quiet assassination had turned into an international incident, mostly thanks to Wheelman and Operator, but now they were running out of options.  While they were able through luck and skill to avoid the 6 nova hit squad that usually hit so hard and fast that their targets seldom had time to react, much less run, the two elites and their unconscious employer were outnumbered 3 to 1 and no reinforcements were coming.  Utopia wasn’t welcome, and Singapore’s military was unprepared for the violence and scale of the attack.  Until the government could negotiate intervention from other powers, or buy and transport a squad of elites, there was little to be done but clear civilians out of the way.

The attack was bad for nova-human relations, endangered lives, and reinforced the idea that novas could act without repercussions.  This was a perfect situation for Vigilance to intervene in.  Apolitical, indifferent to boarders, and lacking any concern for who it angered, the movement was well positioned to take action.  Moreover, it had the perfect people to resolve the situation.

The azure warp gate irised open.  Solitaire and Gravitas, veterans of every major nova conflict since 2001, emerged from the blue vortex of energy.  Immediately behind them, El Dragon, nova strategist and soldier, came blasting through.  They rapidly assessed the situation:  a known elite, Operator, fleeing in a quantum-tech vehicle from a group of 6 racing motorcycles, 3 of which were ridden by novas, and 3 novas in the air.  The trail of destruction led mostly across freeways, but with few options remaining Operator was forced to enter the densely populated city streets and head toward the docks.

Joe watched the fight as it approached his ship, just in from a salvage mission.  Why couldn’t he just come to shore and have a drink like normal people?  Oh, that’s right, because he was a blue giant with quantum powers that apparently included being in the wrong place at the right time.

Outside of Dallas Texas, USA
Kittenstood in line, waiting for her autograph.  Serenade was her favorite singer in the whole world, a real, honest to goodness nova superstar.  When she finally reached the front of the line, she was met by a bored but charming Serenade and her sidekick Daphne.  Kitten knew the girl was another nova, it was all over the tabloids: “Serenade’s Teenage Nova Lover,” “Serenade Adopts Unwanted Chinese Orphan,” “Laura Manning Makes Mind-Slave of Young Nova Girl”.  No one knew the nature of their relationship, but everyone knew they had one.

Baroness moved to the front of the line as her companion shouldered his way through, displacing a ruffled Kitten in the process.  Baroness’s date for the evening was both a well-known nova athlete, and large enough that no one cared to stop him from cutting in line.   This wasn’t her usual idea of a good time, an outdoor music festival in the middle of Texas, but it pleased her date and gave her the opportunity to speak to the famed singer, a moment to work her charms and make a connection.  But even the best laid plans could be ruined by poor timing and the inferior masses.

The fundamentalist anti-nova protestors had clung to the festival like particularly irritating jackals around a larger predator’s kill.  As the Serenade fans filtered off, and protestor numbers swelled temporarily at a shift change, a tipping point was reached.  Suddenly there was a riot, the scene devolving into chaos as equipment was overturned, fighting broke out between fans and protestors, and even uninvolved crowd members started to lash out just for the fun of it.  As the anarchy grew, one of the primary generators failed, shutting down the sound system and half the lights.  Johnny Afterburner, real American Hero, seldom got to enjoy his few days off.  Today was no exception, as he left his place in the crowd to fly up and view the discordant scene from above.

The opnet recorded it all, and showed it to Dillon.  A call to Gale, a request to Slider, and the two of them were flying on scene to hopefully make sense of the mess.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
The only two things that I require from people at the end of this scene: 1) I don’t care how, but everyone needs to be back at the base, including new people, and 2) everyone needs to join the Vigilance/Aberrant movement, even if it's only nominal membership.  It’s the unifying plot element for this section.  Other than that, everyone is free to respond however they like.  Enjoy New Beginnings everyone.

---

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:23, Sat 28 Sept 2013.

Sean was cursing inwardly, he'd previously been careful to never reveal his shapeshifting abilities in this skin, but desperate times called for desperate measures.  Racing along the highway at over 300kph he pulled up a schematic of the city state's expressway system.  The  Ayer Rajah Expressway across to Malaysia was out, as there would probably be a full regiment of troops there, along with Malaysia's own hired elites.  The Kallang–Paya Lebar Expressway would be an excellent place to lose their pursuers, except that the nearest entrance to the underground was blocked by rubble from collapsed buildings. "Operator, our options seem limited, either we increase speed and try to put distance between ourselves and the terrestrial pursuers, then take out the air force, and then deal with the terrestrials, or we try for the ocean and hope that none of them can operate at speed underwater.  Preferences?"  His satellite up-link in his computer registered a quantum distortion, indicative of a gate opening nearby, "A third option has presented itself, other nova operatives have arrived, we could intercept them and hope our pursuers busy themselves somewhat with the new arrivals, then we can either eliminate the remaining pursuers or effect an exit."

Baroness had brushed off Bennie "Iron Back" McCormick for weeks now. He was a playboy and had the unfortunate habit of wanting to show her off. While she enjoyed the attention, she was not fond of the exposure. She had lost a considerable amount of time (and money) making sure she had tightened the lips of her past connections once the tabloids somehow figured out where the two of them were going to be. So, when he offered a ticket to Serenade's show, she thought it would be an excellent way for him to pay her back for all the trouble--and certainly an easy place to ditch the neanderthal once she had tired of him.

Her eyebrows twitched into a frown at his boorish display of cutting straight through the line. She might be thankful for the saved time but this was not the first impression she was hoping to make. She turned on him, her cool gaze turning into an icy stab. She did not raise her voice but it never the less sliced out at the man's pride, "Benjamin...apologize to the poor girl you just pushed aside," she stepped closer to the brute and let her voice drop, only out of decency and not to minimize the shame she was heaping on the poor man, "Try to control yourself. Or I won't be the only one with unfortunate stories to tell."

She quickly reverted back to her calm state and placed her hand on the table, leaning towards Serenade and Daphne, "I'm terribly sorry, he's just been so excited to see you," and repeating an apologetic smile for Kitten.

She didn't have much time to savor the reaction of her date as the crowd erupted into chaos. She gritted her perfect teeth as the lights flickered and half of them died out. With a sigh that might be more appropriate for a missed elevator than a mob scene she put one hand on her hip and let the other dangle by her side. The skin of her dropped hand began to bubble and swell, becoming a bloated mass of mottled flesh. It continued to expand until it sank, slowly revealing her hand again until it was held only by a strand of skin to her finger which finally broke and the sack of skin fell to the ground. It twitched and began to take on the warped features of one of her homunculi, this one with rage in its eyes and extra sharp teeth.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Just so I'm clear:  There are 6 motorcycles on the ground and 3 novas in the air - who are riding the other 3 motorcycles?

---

Dragón shot forward, quickly overtaking the motorcycles weaving through startled traffic.  Spying a relatively open spot in the traffic, he shot downward and landed just in front of the bikes, throwing up a force field shaped like a giant snow plow that blocked all three lanes.  Cars going the speed limit would have ample time to stop before crashing into the glowing, blue barrier.  Motorcycles blasting along at top speed...not so much.

"Operator, Dragón.  I'm on your six.  I'm intercepting the ground vehicles, Solitaire and Gravitas are with me and should be able to hand the fliers a bad day.  How copy?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
*Edit*  I almost forgot to put this in.  He would have activated this before 'porting in.
23:47, Sat 28 Sept 2013: El Dragon rolled 4 5 successes using 7d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((8,10,6,4,7,7,1)) Activate Boost, making my M-Str and M-Sta 5...at least ;).

---

This message was last edited by the player at 04:52, Sun 29 Sept 2013.

Off the Coast of Singapore

Joe "watched" the fighting in Singapore from a singularly unique view. If Joe were another Nova he might have cataloged the entirety of the city, each individual person's microbial flora was as unique to them as a fingerprint and harder to change or erase. As it was, Joe noted the arrival of the Novas from all parts of the globe and made notes of them onto his computer as he lounged on the deck of Sea Porter, his empty eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. The sun was unknown to him though, instead he swam through the mass of biodiversity that was a modern city.

"This sucks," he muttered to himself, following the one signature that was known to him - one of the novas from that night in Las Vegas, though which one was hard to tell given how fast he was moving.

"What's that luv?" Terri said from inside the cabin. "Are you sure you don't want any of this caviar? It's wooonderful..." To his sensitive ears he could hear her munching on every bite of overpriced cracker.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:58, Sat 28 Sept 2013.

As Wilhelm stepped through the portal he was struck with wonderment at the fact that his mysterious petitioners had bothered with the attempt at secrecy at all.  Honestly it was a little insulting.  Sure the inside of the place was plain and somebody had welded layers of chicken wire into a crude Faraday cage around the perimeter to prevent electronic eavesdropping, but they hadn't taken out the windows.  They hadn't filtered the air.  They hadn't shock-isolated the foundation.  A Quonset hut in a mine a mile underground could be anywhere.  This safe house, though, could only be in one place.  Wilhelm could feel the rumble of a four-lane interstate nearby; he could taste the Mississippi River on the air; and he could see, very faintly, the glints of two satellites (COSMOS 2278 and Landsat 7 based on their apparent motions and relative positions) passing overhead.  He was in Alton, Illinois on the corner of 5th and Ridge.  "You know, they caught a bull shark in the river about a mile west of here back in 1937.  It had to have swum 1400 miles upriver to get there.  That's one impressive fish."  A pause.  "Perhaps you should tell me why you're wasting my time with all this secrecy nonsense."

This situation is screwed. The thought ricocheted through Operator's mind a half dozen times in rapid succession. Discretion. Secrecy. Control. All of these things were Operator's selling points. The scale of damage control required here was exceeding his abilities rapidly. Combat breathing. Maintain discipline. Think clearly.

"Reinforcements are rolling in. Lets deal with the aerial threat and then either lose the ground threat or divide them and conquer. Start circling around towards the portal. We need to draw the aerial threat into an area where they have nowhere to go but away. Break line of sight. From a position of no observation, we can start to fix this."

Operator leaned back and extended his left hand, balancing with the right. He had to get the aerial threats to break contact, or changing the facts of the situation would just be too hard, and would take too much out of him. First things first. Jonas let out ceaseless spray of terrifying quantum based lead from the palm of his hand, the end flare a foot long, and the report an all consuming roar.

---

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

Cover fire:
17:23, Mon 30 Sept 2013: Operator rolled 3 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((3,2,4,2,2,9,10,8,4,6,6))

So the aerial targets must make a Willpower roll of 4 sux to ignore the effect, 3 sux to only take a +1 diff to everything, or if they get lower than that they MUST seek cover. A botch means they get hit.

---

Phantasm frowned at Kraken, but she was smiling inside.  For a split second, her mind turned toward memory.

***

Dillon was hard at work finish off the security on the safehouse when he turned to complain to Phantasm for the third time.

"No, I agree, there's half a dozen holes in our security.  But we've gone over this.  Smart guys like to be right, and powerful guys like to have the upper hand.  And rich guys like to know they've got the best toys.  If we're lucky, we'll get a rich, powerful, smart guy that feels like helping a charity case.  If we're not lucky, well, at least he won't feel threatened.  And we're going to have too many people at this meeting anyway, it wouldn't be a good idea to stay here after."

Dillon grumbled, he hated bad workmanship and purposeful security breaches just seemed counter-intuitive, but he finished the work as they'd planned.

***

Letting her frown smooth away, Phantasm replied with just a little bit of wounded pride.

"Hey, when you're working on a low budget and no manpower, you have to make do with what you've got.  And we've gone with more of a quantity over quality strategy anyway.  Nothing here we can't leave behind, no traces to the next bolthole.  That said, we'd be a lot better off if we didn't have to take that approach, but we'd need a little more help..."

" Understood," Wheelman said as they flashed past The Assmbly of God, heading east. " Sit down and strap in, keep your limbs inside the vehicle." Seconds later, the sleek supercar swerved violently, and aimed directly for the side of the road. The suspension heaved violently and the car and passengers left the road and sailed through the air in a trajectory that would drop it into the murky waters of the Pelton Canal, which was currently swollen with rain water. The windows slammed into place and external vents sealed themselves off before they hit with an almighty splash. Sinking almost instantly, the car was soon out of sight of their pursuers. As soon as they were fully submerged the now submarine began to move downstream. " I'll take us down to the Rochor River, then out into the harbour. If you want to make contact with whoever it was that came through that portal I can hack into the city's CCTV and broadcast systems. Otherwise I suggest we make ourselves scarce, maybe head for KL or Jakarta."

The iris of a portal discreetly opened at the edge of the crowd, depositing Gale on location and closing behind her.  Slider elected not to come through, but could still communicate with Gale by custom earpieces.

Spotting Johnny, Gale zoomed up next to him.  "What's the situation?"  She hovered next to him, eyes quickly scanning the crowd and picking out the other novas.  She cracked her knuckles.  She wasn't opposed to a fight with anti-nova protesters.  "Want me to zap something?"

Jennifer was, even a year later, not fully recovered from the hit she took at the UN building.  She lacked the enhanced constitution that many novas possessed, and the rapid healing common to all novas did little to help her through her convalescence.  In her fragile state, Jennifer "Slider" Landers chose to play tactical support for Gale.  With a quick squeeze on Gale's shoulder and a warning to signal if she needed help, Slider closed the first portal and opened another above the scene to get a better view.

Operator withdrew his hand from the open window, unsure of what was about to happen but certain he didn't want to ignore the warnings of the car. He normally didn't mind ignoring warnings cars gave him, check engine, service traction, low pressure, that sort of thing. This wasn't that car. Unsure as to whether his attempts had suppressed the aerial threat or not, he strapped in and held on.

As the car careened over the water, Operator found time to reflect on his past. How many combat drops had he made? Dozens upon dozens. HALO, HAHO, night drops, helicopter assaults, even one or two SCUBA insertions from a submarine. All of that didn't really compare to...this. The car hit the water at 300kph, cut through the surface like butter, and then swam away. Operator blinked. Not a crack in the windshield, nor a dent in the hood.

"Yeah, but what kinda highway mileage does it get?"

Operator checked his weapon, cleared the chamber, and safetied it. Hate to poke holes in James Bond's car.

"Ok Wheelman, from where I'm sitting, we've bought ourselves a breather, but not long. If any of those flying novas has a Q-Bolt to spare for us, they'll be able to not only see us in the water, but penetrate that water. I know I can, rather handily. I didn't bring my SCUBA gear, if you get my meaning, so lets get on out of here. I think linking up with the reinforcements is the way to go. Lemme see what I can get from them from here."

Operator reached out with his mind to find the familiar El Dragon, who blitzed past them right before they took a dive.

Senor Ranger, this is the Operator. Wheelman and I have found some cover in the river. What's the status topside? I took a shot at those fliers but didn't see how it went down. We've got a hot mess here and we need to fix it, but we can't do that while the bullets are still flying.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
22:42, Mon 30 Sept 2013: Operator failed (no successes) using 6d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((6,5,6,6,3,2)). Crap

---

A confused screeching filled Operator's mind as his attempt at telepathy failed utterly.

"I think I just leaked mission critical details and information to a Carp. I can't reach them on the Operator Phone, we'll have to try something else."

Operator flipped open his phone. One bar. He texted El Dragon: Me N Whellmn r underwater lol, cant psifone you frm here. sTatus?

Stepping through the portal, Gravitas kept it open long enough for the other two to join him before dropping the concentration required to keep it open. Space-time reasserted itself as the hole sealed itself shut. He began to take stock of the situation. He recognized Operator in a car, he saw the pursuit. There was an easy way to handle the fliers. "I'm bringing the fliers down," he announced, raising one hand.

Earth's already-potent gravitational field was magnified in a small region, sufficient to catch the fliers and send them careening toward the ground. Even if they might recover, the interruption would hopefully prove useful in aiding in the escape of their allies.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Gravitas rolled 5 successes using 13d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 with rolls of 1,10,6,3,1,10,6,4,7,9, 3,5,10. Wit+Grav, 3 mega. Grav field

The first 10 is 3, the second two are 2, so this is actually more like 9 sux.
Welcome to 1+9=10g's fliers!

---

Daphne had been excited to get to join Laura for her concert, but the autograph signing had become somewhat repetitive before some guy started making a scene by trying to force his way to the front of the line. Daphne had been keeping an eye on the very cat like fan who had been waiting semi-patiently for her turn to see Laura and was somewhat annoyed by the man who had pushed her out of the way. It was nice of the woman with him to try and make up for it.

Daphne gives Baroness a smile. "I am certain everyone is ok, it is understandable to be excited to meet Serenade. Though maybe a little less enthusiasm next time would be appreciated by those around you." Daphne gives a small laugh before turning her attention to kitten

Before she can begin to invite Kitten back over, some of the lights go off and chaos breaks out. Daphne helps Laura to her feet and puts herself between the crowd of people and Laura. "Laura I think it might be a good idea to get you out of here and quickly. Do you think you can do something to calm some of these people while I keep them from you?" Daphne looks around to make sure the cat like nova was ok while also trying to make more difficult for people to get to Laura.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Daphne Ward rolled 7 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((4,8,2,10,4,8,1,7,5,2, 4))

That is 7 sux for force field for a soak of 18 from FF. Activating super heavy armor makes that 46B and 41L total soak.

---

Off the Coast of Singapore

Joe frowned as he felt the stirrings of alien life entering the ocean. It was spreading. Standing up, he flipped the switch to aweigh the anchor before heading towards the mast to fix the sail.

"No time. Singapore's about to blow up. I don't know what's going on exactly, but whatever is happening it can't be good for you and me. A wooden sailboat is nowhere to be if novas start blasting each other and all that."

Terri scrunched her face, processing it.

"I'll go put away the caviar and see how much fuel we have for the engine."

Joe nodded, deciding to forego the regular sail and let a complicated wave of water flow from his outstretched hands and replace it. It would require more concentration to keep the surface tension together, but hopefully it would give them the edge on making the harbor entrance compared to the other boats that would surely be rushing to open water alongside them.

Kitten, like her namesake, recovered quickly. "No problem. You know, I'll just... be second in line. Again." She was prepared to wait the extra minute or two it would probably take to get the burly one and his date through the line.

And then there were terrorists. One of her large triangular ears twitched. "Why can't I just have fun outings like normal people?" she asked of no one in particular.

As the lights dimmed, her pupils dilated, still taking in the scene without issue. "So, I'm just gonna stick with you folks," she said hopping nimbly over the table to take up a position next to Seranade opposite of Daphne. "If you don't mind, that is." She looked over to them and graced those present with a nearly-contagious grin. "I'm Kitten, by the way. As if the ears didn't give it away." As a matter of fact, she also had a tail.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Kitten's suite of MegaSocials and enhancements, plus pheromone-based body mods are all designed to make people like her. She's incredibly cute in a somewhat childish way (she looks to be a teenager as it is). Assume the MegaAppearance enhancements Halo Effect, Kawaii, and First Impression are all in effect for her (MApp2, if it matters). She's adorable. She also flips on Soothe and starts to release Interrelationship pheomones (see A New Flesh page 224 if you care how those work or whether they affect you. Toxin Rating 4 for this scene). Mostly only First Impression is intended for the PCs, the rest are to make nearby rioters calm the fuck down. They sort of hit everyone though.

---

" Almost 500 miles to the pizza, actually," Sean quipped. " I'm linked into the communications network now, I've boosted your signal strength so you should have no problem communications with this, Dragon. How's our client? The 7 point harness and head restraint should have kept him from serious injury but the sudden deceleration couldn't have been good for him." Once they had cleared the narrow confines of the canal he accelerated to around 200kph and headed for the deep water of the harbor. " I'm guessing none of those flyboys can operate underwater, we should be safe here for the time being."

Operator checked on the passenger. Unconscious, thankfully, but still alive.

"Live and unconscious. I've moved a lot of people long distances and through silly circumstances to get them out, with or without their permission. I've always found that consciousness is optional, and not preferred, when doing stuff like diving underwater at breakneck speeds."

Operator returned to his position in the car and paused a moment to take in the wildlife and the whipping by underwater landscape.

"I'll have a martini. Shaken, not stirred."

Operator reflected that, aside from saying that just now, and being in an underwater car, he had nothing in common with James Bond. Heck, he was a beer man, leave the martinis in San Fransisco and pop him open a Heineken any day.

In reply to Operator (msg # 18):
" Actually, I haven't figured out how to create an energy/matter converter yet, that and jump drives are seemingly a bit above my current skill set.  I can offer plenty of very not fresh seawater though.
Speaking of salt, and salary, do you think we're more likely to get a bump in our commission on this one, or if we're more likely to get raked over the coals and have our wages docked?  I hope for the former, but am giving the latter 50/50 odds.  Which reminds me," Wheelman connected to HQ, "HQ, this is Wheelman, Operator and I have our client, safe and sound although unconscious, and have eluded our pursuers, at least for the time being.  Once the client has regained consciousness, I assume that legal will want to talk with him about renegotiating our fees, yes?"

In reply to Wheelman (msg # 19):

Operator blinked.

"In my experience, blowing an op like this usually gets you dropped in a river with concrete shoes, or otherwise disposed of. We'll have to see how things boil down in the end. Did we blow it, or salvage it? It's a matter of press. Speaking of which, can you tune me into whatever is live right now? I need to start trying to fix this, now that eyes are off of us."

Operator steeled himself. To spin what was happening away from himself and his mission would be difficult. He needed the identity of someone they opposed, that way shifting blame could be beneficial. He didn't want "who is this mysterious nova?", rather, he wanted "look at how bad this bad nova is. We should be friends with the other guys, like Comstock and his bros," or something to that effect. He pondered this while watching fish swim past the submersible car that was talking to him.

"This is weird."

Illinois Safe House



Dillon's frown, on the other hand, was genuine.  The Flagstaff Safe House or Lincoln Safe House would have been more ideal.  The Nicaragua and Bolivia Safe Houses weren't done, but showed off more capacity.  This, the Illinois Safe House, was just a bolt hole, one of a dozen.  It had no storage and could be destroyed by precision bombing or surrounded by police with relatively little fuss.  He'd made improvements on the tiny basement, but it had taken quite a lot of work to dispose of the several tons of extracted material without causing a scene.  Calling the meeting here made zero sense.  But he trusted Phantasm's judgment.

He mustered up his charisma anyway, trying to flatter Hell Kraken.  "You're a smart man, Kraken.  Secrecy at this stage keeps our enemies from discerning our form.  And we're making a network, not a fortification.  At least for now."

He led the way to the next room, which looked empty enough but had been converted into a lift that descended to the basement.   He'd built the ceilings tall enough to accomodate Kraken's carapace, at Phantasm's suggestion.  Down here, the dominant material was steel, shaped with Comstock's hallmark touch: no welds, just smooth molecular joins creating a solid frame.  A trio of flatscreen displays was hooked to a server box of Phantasm's devising, and when Dillon came near the displays unlocked and began to feed information from agents in the field and news organizations.

A few pallets of stuff with tarps thrown over them filled one side of basement.  Mostly boxes of emergency foodstuffs, water, medicine, and clothes.  One pallet drew Kraken's attention however: concealed beneath the tarp were metal bars.  Rare, precious metals: gold, tungsten, iridium, rhodium.  Several hundred pounds of the stuff, in fact.  A fortune ... for one that could make use of it or sell it, anyway.

Comstock moved past the pallet without a care and checked on the two events underway.  Singapore seemed well in hand, with Sol, Dragón and Gravitas doing him a big favor with the assist.  The riot in Texas looked more unstable and uncertain.  "You've said it yourself: Utopia doesn't want progress or innovation anymore.  They won't call up T2M to protect anyone outside their influence.  Not anymore."

"So I've built my own group.  And we're growing.  We have three objectives: protect and police novas, because the world's governments and Utopia haven't; enforce the Quantum Powers Non-Proliferation Treaty; and hold Project Utopia accountable for crimes against humanity, for the actions of Proteus and the administration."  He turned back to the Hell Kraken.  "I can't leave this to the Teragen.  Or Utopia.  You have humanity's interests at heart; I've seen that.  I want your support."

Either Comstock was just another petty nova chieftain dreaming of power and concealing it behind pleasant rhetoric, or he'd become an uncompromising idealist intent on taking on the world because he felt no one else could.  For Kraken's benefit, he outlined the basic structure of their 'underground railroad'.  Prior to now, Vigilance was primarily delivering information to new novas, giving them options and a way out if they felt trapped, and helping them build new identities to escape Utopia and the Directive.  Today, they were moving into the next stage:  responding in force to threats the way that T2M typically would.  "We won't play mercenary for you; you have armored drones for that.  But your interests are the world's interests.  And Vigilance can protect them.  You could even play a more direct role yourself, maybe provide jobs and homes to novas with nowhere else to turn."  Phantasm had said that Kraken loved recruiting into his corporation.  That's how it had grown from startup to megacorporation in only five years.  With an impenetrable expression, he waited for Kraken's reaction.

Daphne got a much better look at Kitten once she was on the same side of the table and couldn't help but smile at her new acquaintance. "Well nice to meet you and I don't mind a little help in keeping us safe. I'd make conversation, but riots don't put me in a good mood."

Daphne looks around for a place to get out of here with hurting as few people as possible when she spots Gale in the air and waves for her. "I don't know if Gale can help get us out of here unharmed or not, but the only other option I see is trying to shove our way out back behind the stage."

Singapore
The ex-Team Tomorrow members still acted with the grace and coordination of a well-practiced team.  Gravitas hovered above the scene, his gravity field pinning one nova man to the ground and throwing another wildly off course.  Dragon, landing in front of the motorcycles, destroyed the bikes of all of the baseline riders and one of the novas.  Solitaire stayed back as reinforcement, watching the scene and waiting to move in where needed.

Wheelman and Operator were less practiced, but were doing quite well for having only been on assignment together for two days.  Wheelman slid into the water, altering his form to a submersible mode.  The water slowed his movement significantly but helped to shield them from the remaining flyers.  On the way into the sea, Operator managed to force the flying novas to take evasive action, the woman thrown off course and partially immobilized by Gravitas fell into the water with a splash as the remaining flyer strafed by the elite's position while attempting to dodge the hail of bullets.  She hit Joe's boat with a stray laser blast in the process, but failed to land a shot on the submersible vehicle.

The two remaining nova motorcyclists exchanged a glance as they landed on the other side of Dragon's force field.  The situation had shifted dramatically, from overwhelming advantage to being hunted by some of the world's most dangerous novas.  The two split, one taking an exit ramp, while the other hopped the median and sped back in the opposite direction, quickly accelerating to 200kph.

Wheelman's transmission was met with the calm, pleasant voice of a DeVries agent.  "Wheelman and Operator, we are aware of your situation and are sending an agent to extract our client.  Hold back for a few moments then return to the docks once the other novas on scene have taken care of the last of the assailants. And please rest assured that you are going to receive extra compensation for your efforts.  Anna wants you to know that your work, while not discreet, will do wonders for the agencies reputation.  Avoiding 6 novas while protecting the client was an amazing feat."  The signal dropped a bit there at the end, as the elites passed under a boat racing out to open sea.

Joe noticed the movement under his boat, the submersible had moved directly below him.  The flying nova was coming back around for another pass.  Joe had done absolutely nothing to deserve this, but that was life.  Or his life, anyway.

Operator, his mind still connected to what seemed to be a simple, happy-go-lucky magical carp named Otho, found himself caught in an inconvenient conversation.  "I believe that last woman, the one with the lasers, is coming around for another pass.  It would be polite if you moved out from under the boat, it has at least one non-nova on it, and she isn't likely to survive if the boat goes down." The fish was just being rude; he wouldn't let the connection go, and was now intimating that the elites were being inconsiderate to bystanders.

---

Dallas, TX
Serenade took a rock, or perhaps a brick, to the head when the fighting started, leaving her a bit dazed.  Daphne was there to protect her benefactor from further assault as the press of panicked people carried the stunned Serenade, and the cluster of novas surrounding her, toward the portion of the festival that still had light.  Kitten's calming presence manages to make the closest members of the crowd more civil and reasonable, but the larger crowd is still an issue.  As though to hammer home that point, Baroness's pet made a nasty slash in one of the protestors that was running up to their little group, waving his sign like a club before falling back in terror from the homunculus.

In the air, Gale hovered near Johnny, who was fiddling with his tool kit and calibrating his gear before taking action. "Lady, you were at this superhero business before I was even flying.  I was about to ask if you had any bright ideas.  Not sure how it started, but there's a full blown riot down there, and we need to stop it before any more people get hurt."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Didn't want to steal Johnny's thunder, so I din't reply much, just enough to let Gale move forward with the scene.

---

---

Illinois Safe House
Slider split her attention between the view-screens and her spy portal as she monitored the riot in Texas.  Antonio and Saul, two more of Dillon's invites to the party sat nearby watching the scene unfold.  Saul, aged body dressed in a new eufiber suit that he wore uncomfortably, spoke quietly to Dillon "I should be at one of these scenes.  Flare should be at the other.  There are people that need healing there I'm certain."

Antonio, health renewed and hygene vastly improved since first seeking out Dillon, shied away as Kraken walked by.  He didn't remember much of his stay at the "hospital" but there was a deeply unpleasant association buried somewhere in Antonio's brain.

Off the Coast of Singapore

Joe growled and cnidocystic arrays opening like wide-mouthed open sores on his skin began to wink on and off, waiting to catch the unwary. Even his teeth began to sharpen and his vision went black and white before he shook it off with a head shake. The stinging barbs in his hands actually made them sticky, clinging to the wooden teak of the classically styled yacht.

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY BOAT!"

Inside the cabin, Joe's girlfriend cowered helplessly as his hormones raged and his anger and frustration built, her body betrayed by deep instinctual reaction to his sudden lack of control.

Joe snarled and the yacht made a sudden, drastic turn away from the sub's path aided by watery fins that spun from Joe's glistening skin like a spider's web. Racing across the water he pulled the waves from the prow, reducing drag, the wooden boat making a sudden knife through the harbor.

He spared a look over his shoulder at the flying nova. Stayawayfrommyboat!

Dallas, TX

She watched the brick fly and smack the poor superstar but Baroness held her ground. She looked back to the crowd with a frozen glare, a smile forming only as the protester ran from her twisted creature. She called out to the crowd, "Your numbers mean nothing here" she kept her first homunculus from charging the crowd but it still lashed and howled back, "You judge us? All I see is a pack of wild animals! Beasts with no decency! Cattle who would do well not to tempt the wolf," she threw the force of her appearance at the crowd, warping into a dark and intimidating figure, angry but from the shame of their violence. Her hand bubbling as a hint that it might drip like some horrific faucet and spill out more homunculi.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Thought I'd try that fancy dice roller ya got there!

00:43, Today: Baroness rolled 3 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 with rolls of 7,8,5,1,7,4,2,5,5,2, 5. Mega[(ish))-Intimidation Activate!

So that's 4 successes with her Mega-App I believe. Numberz scare me, btwsies xD

---

"We read you, control. Wheelman out. Operator? Operator? We've lost all but one of our assailants, and command has instructed us to hold position until our client can be extracted.  I will drop to the bottom of the harbor until evac arrives."

Dragón launched into the air after the one that cut across the median.  "Hey Sol," he said over the comm, "I saved you one.  The one headed down the exit ramp looks like he wants to play."  He grinned, then added, "Now don't play too rough with the poor thing, you know how easily they get overstressed.  The little critter is liable to keel right over if you scare him too much."

Then he shot forward in an arc that took him above the cyclist's line of sight.  When he was parallel with the fleeing nova and just to his left, he juked down and to the side, striking with a Pushing Hands technique that transferred Dragón's momentum directly into the cyclist's center of balance.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
01:28, Wed 02 Oct 2013: El Dragon rolled 6 9 successes using 16d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((3,4,2,1,9,9,7,2,10,10, 3,5,3,3,10,1)) Taijiquon "Shove" [NewF pg 83]. [He gets knocked back 1m x (Might [15] + net successes + 25 [from M-Str auto-sux])]

---

Operator took several measured breaths before trying to respond to the information he got from Otho. Such an action had to be...measured.

"I think there's a nova trying to hit us through the water, and they might hit that boat above us instead. Lets draw them away from the civilians if possible, shall we? While I'd rather not get hit, I'm much more opposed to using innocents as human shields."

That oughta do it. No reason to go into telepathic messages from fish.

"Roger that. He adjusted his descent to take them away from the shipping lanes, as far from civilian vessels as was possible.  " Of course, we could always take her down, I've still got enough juice left to get airborn.  Also, did you know that someone's been trying to reach you on your cell?"

If Comstock had planned to out-stoneface Wilhelm, a nova with no discernible facial features, he'd planned poorly.  Wilhelm didn't react visibly when shown the information system.  He didn't react visibly when shown the implicit bribe of the pile of metal ingots.  When the presentation was over his visage was as impenetrable as Comstock's, likely because it could be no other way.  The silence soon grew awkward.  Eventually it was broken.  "Talk is all well and good, but I'm afraid I need more.  An indication of your bona fides if you will."  Wilhelm paced back and forth for a moment, not necessarily thinking so much as composing.  "You seem loath to give me accurate information, information I would require if I were to help you.  I won't push you on it.  At least not for the moment.  You probably have your reasons.  An alternative.  You are familiar, no doubt, with Project Utopia's technological regulations?  Certain technologies are deemed so dangerous to established power structures that they're confiscated, never to be seen again unless in Utopia hands.  Sometimes the inventors of these technologies are similarly disappeared.  An unfortunate state of affairs.  No doubt too you have access to such technologies, either of your own devising or of someone else's.  If some such technology were to find its way into the public domain it would certainly go a long way to proving you mean what you say."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:05, Thu 03 Oct 2013.

This was less than what he'd hoped.  But still more than nothing.  "P?"  He turned, still frowning, looking for an assist.  "What would you say the public domain is ready for?"

The events over the world continued to play out.  Being here instead of out there took its toll on Dillon, and it was beginning to show.

Phantasm tapped out a rapid beat on the wall she was leaning against. An old Green Women song with Zero on lead vocals, Quantum Obscura, screamed in her headphones.  He's depending on me too much, he needs some confidence.  I want to give him ideas, but the choices need to be his.

"Depends on what you want to throw at them.  They've got all the entertainment they can handle, you ask me.  They don't need an upgrade to their cellphone or even faster opnet cables, they need something that either meaningfully enhances their lives, or something that qualitatively changes the human experience.  We may be a little early for that last one though, so maybe something in the 'life enhancement' category?  Drugs or gene therapies that make for more efficient people would be my first choice, no reason people shouldn't be able to use some of the gene research out there to make themselves better, but there's so many options out there...

For example, you could improve the infrastructure of a city, and let that city act as a template for others. You and Kraken have driven  development in Vegas for years, why not do even more there?  Imagine what the city would be like with a nova-age power grid... Take some of the super high yield solar cells R&D never released because of how they'd destablize world energy markets, update the grid itself with shielding, new materials, and better computers with more advanced programs to run things... Vegas would have nearly free energy, and the infrastructure for it would be an order of magnitude more resilient to natural disasters or terrorist attacks... There would be new jobs, not just in renovating the city, but in producing materials for other places interested in upgrades of their own...

But it all depends on how big you want to go, and how much you think you can get away with before Utopia or the big corporate powers clamp down on things."

Dallas, TX

Laura, was still dazed by her head trauma but was beginning to come back to her senses.  Everything was still disconnected in her mind, but suddenly in a snap everything came back into focus.  She saw the mob pressing forward, and she looked down at Daphne and Kitten.  A flashback of the night of her eruption came unbidden to the forefront of her mind, and she began to panic in that memory.  I have to protect my girls, it doesn't matter what I have to do, they are going to be safe!!!

Serenade stood taller and more confident, as she let herself melt into the chaos of the riot.  Her mind danced along the sounds of the riot, she was the Mistress of Music...this was her symphony to conduct...what it needed was a sharp crescendo the climax before plummeting to piano pianissimo.  Her arms lifted from her sides as though she were conducting a symphony, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her mouth opened in a soundless shriek as quantum erupted from her body.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Oh wow...the dice roller loves me tonight!!!  23:22, Wed 02 Oct 2013: Serenade rolled 6 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((5,4,1,10,2,10,10,7,3,7,9)).  That is actually 9 sux due to the Creative quality of Wits.  Unfortunately or fortunately the number of sux is moot with this technique, lol.  She is activating Storm.  With her reduced damage everyone in the field takes 5 bashing every turn, their dice pools are reduced by 2, and their movement and vision are halved...okay vision doesn't make any sense for this use.  They should be deafened though.  They are all being attacked by a cacophony of sound cranked up to 300+ dB

---

Dillon nodded.  "She has a point.  You built that borehole out at Jackass Flats for a reason.  How about I give Las Vegas the keys to a 21st century energy grid?"

Gale examined the crowd, spotting Daphne and Serenade.  It looked like there were two or three other novas with them.  Surely a group that size could take care of themselves for a few moments.  "Ok, we need to make sure that they aren't armed.  Last thing we need is someone hiding in here with weapons.  I'm going to make the terrain more difficult for them, and then start causing a distraction.  You take care of the weapons and then try to break them up a bit if my efforts aren't enough."

She reached up and the skies suddenly darkened.  A thunderous boom, and then it was raining buckets.  She gave a salute to Johnny with a smile "Hope your equipment is waterproof!", and then swooped down to the crowd.  She headed for the center of the fighting, hovering just above the reach of the crowd.  "You want to protest against a nova?!  Well, here's a nova for you!"  She held out her arms, challenging them, but also reminding them of what they were facing.  The goal actually was to get them to stop fighting and flee.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
20:16, Thu 03 Oct 2013: Gale rolled 7 successes using 13d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((9,2,7,9,1,6,6,8,7,1,5,2,10)).  Int + Mega-Int + Weather Manip - Weather Alteration from Sweltering Heat or Clear/Sunny to Strong Rain/Thunderstorm.

20:58, Thu 03 Oct 2013: Gale rolled 1 success using 4d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((2,3,7,2)). Appearance + Intimidate. Flee!  + 1 success for Awe-Inspiring for 2 successes total.

Quantum spent: 3 (Weather Manip) + 1 (Awe-Inspiring)

---

If it was possible for Wilhelm's carapace to shrug, it shrugged.  "You'll have to decide that for yourself.  My wants are irrelevant to what you are going to do.  If indeed I want anything."  Wilhelm's vocoder switched modes from equivocal to pensive.  "It just seems natural that if one didn't trust Utopia's judgement in policing novas one might not trust Utopia's judgment in other spheres."  Another vocoder mode-shift, this time to the adumbrative.  "Certainly if you were to go into some sort of business it would make it easier to enter into contracts.  Of the mutually beneficial variety."

Dillon had dealt with more obtuse diplomats and more insipid PR events.  But not when he had so much on the line.  "This isn't a business.  But if you want to see good works before you'll commit, you'll have them."

The sudden wind, thunder and rainstorm in Texas did not bode well.  "Maybe sooner than later ... Slider?  Can can you get Saul and Antonio down there?"

Illinois Safe House
Slider nodded, then opened a portal for Comstock's devoted follower and the old healer to pass through.  Slider continued to monitor the situation as it grew worse, turning to alert Dillon to the intensity of the nova response.  "Serenade and the novas with her are tearing up that crowd.  People are going to die soon if we don't do something.  Do we do something?"

Hell Kraken watched the scene unfold, carapace revealing no emotion, as he was forced to remain out of contact with his empire of automated drones and the flow of data updates he was accustomed to.  When next he had access to his messages though, he would find an unanticipated windfall: Texas was apparently interested in acquiring some of his police drones to handle hostile novas.  They were willing to buy in bulk, for a reasonable discount of course.

Dallas, TX
The crowd parted in absolute panic as monstrous creatures manifested from the impossibly attractive nova, the contrast making them somehow even more frightening.  They ran amidst the crowd as Kitten's efforts at soothing the rioters was completely disrupted, not just by Baroness, but by the storm of sound that welled up from Serenade.  The cacophony of the pop star's voice bludgeoned the crowd, knocking several down, forcing them to crawl away or die.

The air above the crowd held another storm, it's effects much more far reaching.  Clouds rolled in, thunder boomed, and fierce winds blew across the landscape.  The downpour of water quenched any fire remaining within the baselines below, sending them running to the edges of the festival toward whatever shelter they could find.

The only danger remaining was the threat the crowd posed to itself.  People trampled one another in their haste, parents were separated from children, and the infirm were confused and helpless in the panicking mass of humanity.

---

Singapore
Dragon took out the retreating cyclist, shoving him off the speeding bike and into the median at breakneck speeds.  The nova would live, but he was quite unconscious as he rolled to a stop.  Gravitas maintained his gravity field as Solitaire floated above the scene, forced to choose between chasing after the last motorcycle and taking down the remaining flyer who was attacking the area around what initially appeared to be a civilian yacht taking evasive action, quite unnatural evasive actions at that.  The nova presence required for that type of maneuvering suggested the boat might be somehow involved with the encounter as another nova randomly on scene was fairly unlikely.

As Joe turned the yacht the remaining nova aggressor broke off from the search after realizing that there was no way to salvage the situation, flying off to the northeast in hopes of evading capture.  Joe wasn't clear of the nova threat though, not yet.  As he maneuvered the boat he noticed that the other flyer, the one that fell into the water, was clinging like a barnacle to the hull of his ship, probably attempting to hide.

At the bottom of the harbor, Sean recieved another communique.  "Nova hostiles are in full retreat, extraction is a go.  Return to harbor, your contact is waiting for you there.  Move in while the other novas are cleaning up your pursuers."

Dallas, TX

Baroness kept her severe gaze on the crowd, but was all smiles behind her eyes at the chaos that ensued. She was pulled away only to watch the display from the other novas. She found it exhilarating to watch the orchestra of power over the scurrying baselines--but she was certain to make note of what she saw...and who to be wary of.

She looked around, assuming her date had scurried off long ago. She gave a flip of her hair--She hadn't had high hopes for the vain, pushy man anyway. She snapped her fingers in command of her homunculi, pulling the two creatures back up to her. They flanked her as she waited for Serenade's shriek to end before she went over to the dazed woman. She gave Kitten an appreciative smile on the way. Baroness hated cute and cuddly things, but she found that the nova's manipulative talents certainly left a good impression all the same.

She walked slowly toward Serenade, keeping her bodyguard Daphne between them so as not to make anyone uncomfortable in this tense moment. She let concern wash over her face as she asked as softly as she could over the din of the riot, "Are you alright? That can't have felt good," while she remained calm her two homunculi kept their watch, scowling, barking, and making swipes at the crowd.

Dallas, TX

Daphne looked on in horror as the chaotic situation went from bad to horrible. I don't have any ability to control this situation, but maybe I can calm Laura down and get her to get this under control

Daphne turned to Laura and grabs her hand. "Serenade, you need to stop hurting these people. They are going to start killing each other. This is not what we need, please calm this crowd. Many of them are just your fans."

Daphne looks quizzically at Baroness while she grabs kitten and moves closer to Baroness. "I am going to try and get us closer to Gale and get her to try and stop this storm. We need to prevent this from becoming an even bigger catastrophe. If there is anything either of you can do to help I'd appreciate you doing so. A lot of people are going to die today if we continue going about this in this manner."

Daphne moves the group slowly through the crowd, trying to take blows for the people around her.

"We read you loud and clear, Control, proceeding to tertiary evac point."  The sub extricates itself from the muck at the bottom of the harbor and headed closer to the surface.  Sean cruised along at around 5m down, his matte dark grey hull blending perfectly with the dark water below.  Breaching almost silently at the quay the now car drove up the boat ramp and towards the operative waiting near some public toilets.  Sean opened his doors, allowing Operator out before he shifted back into human form, the limp body of his client held easily in his arms.  After the handoff he picked his briefcase up off the ground and nodded to his oddly silent partner, then toggled his headset and contacted their most excellent distraction.  "This is Wheelman, many thanks for the assist, we owe you one."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:31, Thu 10 Oct 2013.

"We do something."  Dillon went heavy, droplets of metal seeping out through his pores and hardening into his second skin.  He tapped his own ear-piece, switching on and off channels as necessary.  "Sol, Grav, Dragón: when you're done there, tell the local authorities why you came, leave them a calling card in case they find themselves in another crisis, and bring those elites with you.  Ask nicely, there's no sense in starting another fight, but I want to know what precipitated that little chase."  The calling card was another of Phantasm's ideas: an independent smart-phone-in-box with preprogrammed numbers and encryption keys to securely contact Vigilance.  It wasn't a bat-signal, but it was the best Phantasm could do to meet Comstock's demands.

"Phantasm, please keep Mr. Kraken company for a few minutes.  Mr. Kraken, if you've had enough, just ask and the lovely Miss Phantasm will see you home and leave you one of our calling cards."  The stupid industrialist would probably disassemble it anyway, and for all Comstock knew the frequencies and encryption keys on the thing would give him full access to their computer network.  It was an acceptable risk.

"Antonio, you're with me."  The young man had become something of a sidekick.  "Slider, put us on that stage.  Any nova making trouble gets two warnings.  Keep your eyes on any that don't listen, I'll want to have a talk with them."

On Slider's cue, Comstock and Antonio arrived in Texas.  He folded his arms across his chest and waited, letting the rain bead up and run over his silvery face.  The crowd had about thirty seconds to calm itself down or start listening to Gale before he did his best Impetus impression.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
OOC: Commanding Presence, but so far all he's doing is standing where people can see him.

---

Above the chaos, Johnny Afterburner considered his next move very carefully.  With Utopia and T2M:A already moving people and equipment out of Vegas in favor of Mexico City, he wasn't feeling particularly loyal.  And though the pay was less than what he was enjoying now, he had just negotiated a deal with the City of Las Vegas to become the city's first official Public Defender.  The offer was on the table ...

Intervening in this without calling in the rest of T2M:A would almost certainly burn a bridge with Utopia.  As would participating in this ... whatever that Gale and Comstock and Phantasm had been putting together on the downlow.  But since he had a way out ...

The urge to make some trouble, be the center of attention, and save the day boiled over, overriding common sense and all sense of duty.  "Alright, Lady, you've got their attention.  Want some spotlight?"  Johnny didn't have a riot control kit available, but he did have lights and sirens.  If Gale asked it, he'd blare sirens and put on the flashers, then illuminate whoever wanted to do the talking.

Meanwhile, his sharp eyes tracked some nova cutting out of the crowd, and one very, very attractive lady in the crowd spawning little ... things ...

"Roger that, Comstock," Dragón replied.  "So, Sol...who are we asking nicely, the local authorities to let us take 'em, or the thugs we just trashed?" he asked, trying to keep the humor out of his voice.

Running under the premise that asking unconscious mercenaries for permission to take them into custody would be an exercise in situation comedy, he scanned over the police and other emergency responders for the one in the nicest suit.  He carefully scooped the elite out of the indentation in the center median and flew over to the "suit."

"Excuse me," he said in careful English (his Cantonese was limited), "could you please tell me who is in charge here?"

Gale took in the chaos quickly.  It wasn't quite what she had meant to do, but if it was getting the crowd to disperse, that would still be an improvement.  There were suddenly a lot of novas showing up.  Did Comstock seriously think a riot in Texas was this important?

But, the arrival of the others made it a little easier.  She pointed Johnny toward Comstock.  "Let the big guy do the talking.  I'm gonna get the source of the trouble out of there."  She had spotted Daphne moving her group through the crowd.  Time to get them out.

Swooping down, she offered a hand to Daphne.  "Tell everyone to hang on!"  She offered her other hand to whoever else grabbed it first.  She was stronger now, she could probably lift a group of 4 or 5 novas.  She hoped.  Once everyone was joined, she headed back up into the sky, wings straining with the effort.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Have Mega-Strength 1 with the Lifter enhancement.  Hopefully that's enough.

---

Baroness raised an eyebrow at Daphne's compassion for the baselines--but there was no accounting for taste and wasn't about to bring it up. Instead she sauntered forward with the rest of the group. Her homunculi harassing any rioters who got too close.

When they made it up to Gale, Baroness frowned. She barely knew any of these people and now she was going to what? Hop a ride on one of them. Beyond the issue of familiarity, she was most certainly not dressed for the occasion. Still, she enjoyed a good gamble now and then. Any place where powerful novas like these were going was a place she'd be curious to see. She sighed and snapped her fingers. Her homunculi stopped and turned in unison before rushing up to and leaping onto her. Where they hit turned into a bubbling mass of flesh that was subsumed by her eufiber dress before being absorbed back into her body. She found a suitable grip on Gale and had to work harder than she expected to keep her face relaxed as they rose into the air.

Operator slipped out of the transforming submarine/car with the panache expected of a comic book super spy. He straightened his jacket, tucked his weapon a bit further out of sight, and strolled up to the contact.

"Hey, great to see you!"

Operator shook his hand.


"I think we're about ready to wrap things up here, and our mutual friend here needs a lift home. You up for that?"

Operator helped shoulder the package and helped them towards the contact. Things needed to start calming down and fast, and as long as they had a job to do, Operator couldn't really start with that yet.

Dallas, TX

Serenade stopped her assault on the rioters, and blinked while slowly surveying the situation.  Most of the baselines were running from her, but they weren't trying to attack her girls...her girls...she saw them.  Daphne was taking Kitten from her, Kitten needed her protection.  She began to take off after them, to protect them...then the fog of the young Nova's personality began to lift.

Laura stopped in her tracks and looked again at the scene below her.  Children were separated from their mothers, people were beginning to trample each other to get away from her and from the mysterious yet beautiful woman and her "pet".  She felt sick...she never meant to hurt any of them, just get them to stop the riot.  So...this is what a social whammy feels like.  I need to be responsible with that...so dangerous.

Daphne's last words came to her mind unbidden.  She had to calm this situation down...she didn't know if she could though.  There were so many of them.  Maybe...maybe if she pushed she might be able to calm them down enough.  This was her fault...she had to make this right.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Okay, I am going to try maxing a power for the first time, it's exciting!!!  Never mind...that was somewhat anti climatic:  20:42, Sun 13 Oct 2013: Serenade rolled 1 success using 5d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((8,6,1,4,2)).  So next round that will go off, but this round she is ramping up.   

---

She stood tall with her head back arms outstretched and began to float in the air her toes barely touching the earth, as her body began to thrum with a painfully slow slurred melody...a fugue that seemed to bring to mind an opiate induced haze.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:05, Mon 14 Oct 2013.

Heading out of Singapore Harbor

Easing the yacht back into the water properly and waving away the paper thin "sail" of water he'd made, the boat was more or less dead weight again and momentum quickly tugged it to the bobbing state of rest that it had been in before, slowly pushing its way toward the harbor mouth at a leisurely pace.

Making the windvane but keeping the autopilot off in case he had to jump back to action, Joe walked over to the rails and peered down at his clinging passenger.

"Excuse me? Private property, dude. You want a charter you need to find another ride."

He cleared his throat and pushed his cheap sunglasses up onto his nose with one finger.

"Or else... No hard feelings, kay?"

Singapore
As Sean made a welcome broadcast to the new arrivals, tapping into their headset frequencies with casual ease, Operator passed off the unconscious billionaire to their contact.  Contrary to what Devries told their customers, teleporters were NOT always available; they were in high demand and short supply, forcing others to fill in gaps.  The contact was a woman completely wrapped in strips of many-colored cloth that fluttered in the breeze coming in from the harbor.  Silently, she took the helpless man from Operator, turned, and faded away from sight, leaving only a few strips of cloth to fly away on the wind.  The carp commented "Oh, to fly.  It must be fantastic."

---

The man Dragon picked up was vaguely conscious, and apparently thought Dragon was talking to him.  The man shook his head emphatically, he wasn't talking, wasn't telling anyone who was "in charge." Not surprising really, since Dragon had a reputation for fairness and decency that the man's employers most certainly did not.  If he talked he would be denied the luxuries of jail; a long, painful death would be his only reward.  With an the patience of a saint, Dragon ignored the criminal in his arms, and waited for the suits on the ground to decide whether Dragon was a threat, who was in charge, and whether the person in charge was going to talk to a foreign nova with no jurisdiction.

Finally, a man came forward.  In his 50's, balding, a clean-shaven face, cold eyes, the man looked like he had seen his share of tragedies. He replied in English, "I am Agent Tan.  You are a long way from home Mr. Devarga.  While we appreciate your help, I hope you are not planning on visiting for too long.  Things could become complicated if you were to do so."

Solitaire, meanwhile, let the last bike escape.  It wasn't that she didn't care, it was that more important things were pressing on her consciousness.  It was the quantum fields in the area.  Something just didn't gel.  It was like someone was looking over her shoulder, their shoulder, but not like ESP.  She'd never had the knack for detecting that sort of thing, that was always Zero's bag, but she was increasingly in tune with quantum harmonics, and there was something off.  So, instead of chasing after irrelevant mooks, she listened.

---

Joe watched as the ultimatum sunk in, the woman's waterlogged face set in grim determination.  In british-accented English, the woman tried to negotiate.  "I can pay you, in money or favors. And my favors are worth a great deal.  Just hide me, and you have me in your debt."

Gravitas watched the scene play out from his vantage above the harbor.  His senses were sharp, and though he didn't catch every word, he understood where things were heading.  The blue man seemed to be a random variable in the situation, and chaos was seldom a good thing in his world of plans and calculations.


Dallas, Texas
Daphne, Kitten, and Baroness all took to the air with Gale, but Serenade was in a fugue still.  She refused to grab on, instead starting to hum another melody, her sonic assault replaced with a calming vibration that was still building.  Serenade paid only cursory attention to Baroness as she spoke, or even her friend Daphne; apparently Laura handled stress poorly and the panic, her injury, and her own instinctive reaction combined to lock her in to the situation.  As the four took to the air, Slider opened a portal above Gale, so that she could fly through to the safe house.  As the four climbed higher, they saw the famous singer engulfed by the rain and crowd, her song a low bass felt in the bones rather than heard.

Comstock played his part as well.  Johnny, diverted by Gale, lit up the metal man, and the crowd easily spotted him as the light reflected from his polished skin.  Some ran from him, but many more flocked to him, a calm rock in turbulent seas.  His reputation, his presence, his good works all combined to instill trust in the panicked crowd.  Antonio escorted Saul through the crowd, healing as he went.  The man's power had grown in astonishing ways since his eruption; his touch, even his presence, was enough to heal minor injuries and instill a sense of renewed vigor to the fallen.  As he passed, those injured by novas and the crowd were able to stand and calmly walk away.

Safe House
Phantasm, Kraken, and Slider sat and waited.  It wouldn't be long until they had a full house. Well, actually they already did, but it would get a fair bit more crowded.  Flare was there in reserve, there were at least half a dozen strays they had picked up before Utopia could get to them, and a few other old friends and contacts.  They were in other parts of the safe house, waiting for the big man to come back and make his speech.  Most of them were happily consuming the punch and pie laid out for them.  Novas were always hungry, those that didn't consume cosmic energy or radiation or whatever for sustenance, and what was a resistance movement worth if it couldn't provide punch and pie?

Phantasm turned and smiled a friendly smile at Forster. "Oh, no.  You don't get to escape.  You have to stay at least until everyone's back.  There's a party, and charades."  She joked, but she really had no intention of sending him back just yet.  Hopefully he was more entertained than he let on, but if he wasn't, at least some of the others should engage his interest.

While he waited for the appropriate official to make his way to the chaotic scene, Dragón tried again to reach Operator by phone.

"Operator," he said after the obligatory beep, "I hope you guys made it out of the area okay.  Listen, the ringmaster of the little 'flying circus' I belong to would really like to meet with you and your mechanical partner.  Get back to me as soon as possible.  If you call within the next...say...hour, we'll even arrange transport for you."

Touching the earpiece to end the call, he got on his radio to check in with Solitaire and Gravitas.  "How are things looking for you guys?  I'm down here waiting to meet with a government official.  I've left another message for those elites Comstock wants us to talk to.  I told them we'd be here about another hour before we 'ported home.  It will probably take most of that time to make nice with the locals, but do either of you foresee a problem with that?"

When Agent Tan arrived, Dragón put on his 'meet the in-laws' smile.  "No, I assure you, Vigilance isn't here to set up shop.  We simply detected that you needed assistance and came to try to wrap up this dangerous situation as quickly as possible."  He handed the harried-looking agent the calling card and said, "If you find yourself in similar need in the future, you can use this to contact us."

Lowering the battered nova to the ground, he gave him a quick dose of mox, then turned back to Agent Tan.  "Here's one of the bunch that was shooting up your downtown.  This mox should keep him docile long enough to get him safely tucked away."

Singapore Harbor

Joe snorted.

"What you think you got that I need," Joe replied. "Wind and sea, lady... I don't care if you're the Queen of England - my boat, my rules. And my rules say: No stowaways, no boarders, and no backtalk about it."

"Push off, whatever problems you got are nothing I need or want," he waved a hand. "Pick another boat. Or swim. I don't care."

Dallas, TX

After moments of humming and thrumming, the music began to roll over the crowd like the gentle laps of the ocean on the beach.  The people present had to struggle or find themselves swaying to her orchestration, their very heartbeats struggling to slow down to meet the agonizingly slow beat.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
00:00, Tue 15 Oct 2013: Serenade rolled 3 successes using 10d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((5,3,8,6,1,3,10,5,5,9)).
  That will wind up being 5 successes with the 10 and the success from the maxing of the power.

---

Operator glanced at his phone.

"Oh right. Someone's trying to contact me."

Rather than listen to the ponderous voice mails, he merely transferred the information from his voice mail back to himself. Thinking through Dragon's message, and the timeliness of the help they had received, Operator found the answer quick and easy.

"Hey Wheel, I'm gonna meet up with El Dragon and go see whoever his boss is. You in?"

Without waiting for a response, but watching for one, Jonas called El Dragon back.

"I'm in, just give me when and where to link up."

"Dragon has a boss? I thought he quit Utopia?" Sean was confused, and curious.  "If some mysterious powerbroker wants to have a meeting, I'm in, it could be good for the company."

Texas

Once things had settled down, Comstock marched off the stage to speak to the protestors.  "Your freedoms are guaranteed under this country's law.  Freedom to engage in violence is not one of those freedoms.  Move back a ways and continue your protest if you still want, but you will respect these people the same way they respect you."  He stared, daring one of them to continue rioting or throw something.  No one seemed to move.  "I am watching."

With that, he turned his back and made his way back into the crowd toward the other source of the trouble.  The hypnotic effect of Serenade's luminous display gnawed at him, made his head ache.  "Finish your encore, Serenade.  Then we're making your exit and having a talk."  He did not appreciate tampering with people's minds, even if it had calmed everyone down.  More than that, she'd attacked the crowd.

He withdrew handcuffs from a pouch on his belt.  "You are detained by Vigilance.  Your cooperation is advised."  He hoped that she would pick up that this was the easiest way out.  "I won't need these, will I?"

The glare of Afterburner's spotlight was not helping matters.  "Ladies and Gentlemen, please enjoy the show!"  Comstock looked up into the storm and made a 'cut it' gesture toward the man.

Johnny Afterburner pretended he didn't see the metal man telling him to cut the light.  But he did thrust over to Gale.

"Allow me to escort one of you lovely ladies so our Gale doesn't have to ruffle any of her feathers."  He tracked on Antonio and Saul.  "Looks like they plan on getting back the way them came.  Ya'll don't happen to know the whereabouts of a certain portal-hopping international terrorist, would you?  Seems like the kind of thing that Johnny-Afterburner-of-Tomorrow should forget he saw, don't you think?"

He followed Gale through the portal, trusting that he would be in good company.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:27, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Singapore
"A variable has appeared," he replied to Dragon. "A nova. It looks like he's made contact with one of the remaining assailants." He began to float in that direction, accelerating away so that'd he'd be able to intercept them in a timely fashion. "I am moving to intercept and investigate. See what you can get out of Operator and his partner, I'll return and get us back to HQ shortly."

Within a few minutes he was hovering fifty feet or so off the boat's starboard beam, observing the situation. He did not want to interrupt the confrontation between the boat's captain and the one he was speaking to, so he waited silently.

Gale gladly passed off one of her passengers with a smirk, and free of the extra weight, she zoomed through the portal above her.  Once through, it only took a minute to orient herself.  A moment, and then her victims were on their feet, no longer held aloft.  "Welcome to HQ." An awkward introduction, but it felt necessary.

Daphne looks around and tries to get her bearings and asses her surroundings. "Thanks for the rescue Gale I really appreciate the help, I just wish we could have stopped that situation from turning lethal."

Daphne spots the displays showing the various situations around the world. "What is this the headquarters for exactly? I know Comstock hinted at something when we first met, but I guess this is the big reveal." Daphne watches the aftermath of the concert/riot in Dallas intently as she waits for Dillon and Laura to return.

Phantasm waved casually at the new guests.  "Hey all.  Small world, huh?"  She hadn't seen Kitten since her work on the moon base, Baroness she'd only met once, in passing, and she'd only heard of Daphne from 'Stock.  He'd thought her "promising".  Guess we'll see...

"So, make yourselves at home, we've got snacks if you still eat, and I'm sure Dillon will be back soon to chat with everyone."  She ushered everyone toward food, but hung back with Gale for a moment after the others were out of earshot.  Whispering faintly, hopefully only loud enough for Gale's keen ears to pick up, Phantasm let some irritation at her friend bleed into her voice. "What was that Gale?  You aren't new to this, you knew that pushing your personality and throwing a storm at them would just make them even more crazy.  People were hurt out there."  And if she didn't, she should have.  Was she just more reckless, or was Gale just expanding her anger at the Michaelists to include all baselines now?

Kitten let go somewhat early, before their landing, and alighted gracefully with her feet planted together; like a gymnast, she thrust both her arms skyward in a V shape. "Phantasm!" she exclaimed, though she restrained herself from hurling her whole body at the ex-T2M celebrity.

One of her ears twitched at the word 'snacks' and she sniffed at the air a brief moment. "Mmmmm," she said, slicing herself some of the pie. She'd spoke again, after having shoveled a bite into her mouth, talking around the food, "So... What about Serenade? Just going to leave her to the mob?" She took a somewhat hasty drink of the punch to wash down the pie.

"Come on."  Provided Serenade followed him quietly, he signaled for a portal on the stage and calmly escorted her out of Texas, disappearing in a blink.

---

"Welcome everyone.  Wasn't quite the way I expected today to go, but now that I have your attention, we're just waiting for a few other people and then I'll be calling this to order."

"Kitten, Baroness, and Daphne: I appreciate you coming along.  We'll get you home or wherever you need to go."

"Serenade," he gestured to the room.  "We'll discuss the crowd later.  For the moment, get comfy."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:10, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

As she is watching the displays, Daphne turns to where the portal is opening. Upon seeing Serenade and Comstock she walks forward and puts her arm around Serenade. "Thanks for the help Comstock, I appreciate you bringing Serenade with you. I am really sorry for what she did, I don't know what came over her. I haven't seen her be so aggressive."

Serenade followed Comstock through the portal, lost in thought.  I really fucked up...God, I screwed that up...  She first saw Daphne when she exited the portal into the headquarters, and walked over and embraced her in a hug.  "I'm sorry Daphne...I'm so sorry, are you okay?  Over Daphne's shoulder she watched as the cute girl with the cat ears shoved an entire slice of pie into her mouth, obviously not concerned with how she looked or etiquette.  The corners of her mouth curled up into the hint of a smile as she watched the display, and the resulting wiping of the girl's mouth with her shirt sleeve.  She felt the strong urge to attack her face with a wetnap, and tore her eyes from the girl.  Dangerous...so very very dangerous...

”It can wait.  Dr. Jensen tended to the injured.  What matters today is that the crowd saw you be arrested.”  He reached behind one of the pallets and pulled out a banker’s box full of manila envelopes.  Each envelope had the word VIGILANCE and a starburst logo.  He found the one for Serenade and presented it.  ”It could be a little while before everyone is here.  Start reading.”  He found another one for Daphne.  ”You too, Daph.”

The envelope had a lot of information organized into a single report.  Photos from various wars, from the Bahrain facility, information on Project: Proteus, the works.  A complete manifesto of Utopia’s crimes, even including sealed tissue samples and other physical evidence.  Comstock wandered around the room and handed everyone present a report.  The Hell Kraken’s version came in digital and hardcopy, in case he was choosy about his medium.

At some signal on her headset, Slider opened another portal to a different Safe House.  Kraken deduced from incidental observations that there was a 96% likelihood that safe house was located in Miami.  Three other novas arrived; two of them were fresh faced, only barely erupted and still loaded with aberrations.   ”Comstock!  Phantasm!”  Comstock greeted the newcomers, made small talk, told them to get comfortable, and then handed each of them a packet of documents.

Stopping to monitor the action in Singapore, he tapped his ear-piece.  ”Sol: everything alright?  What do you hear?”

Gale's feathers puffed out slightly at Phantasm's comments.  Defensive.  But she tried to keep it out of her voice and expression.  Phantasm was still her friend, after all.  "I might have been a bit over the top with it.  I was just trying to clear the field.  But it's not like I had complete control of the situation."  She gave a significant glance at Serenade as Comstock brought her through the portal.  "It's a lot easier when everyone is on the same team."

Leaving it at that, she went to go lurk in the corner while Comstock brought everyone else up to speed.  Probably the best way to lick her wounds and not make the unity of the team look bad to everyone else.

When he was finished briefing Agent Tan and smoothing ruffled feathers as best he could, Dragón lifted off to go check up on the "variable" Gravitas said he'd found.

As he drew near the boat Gravitas was hovering beside, he realized there was something familiar about the blue-green skinned man in the deafeningly loud shirt.  "Joe?" he said, drifting a little closer, "is that you?"  He folded his arms and cast an appraising look down at the scowling man.  "Are you stirring up trouble again?  I'm not always going to be around to save your bacon, you know."  Then he pointed down at the woman clinging to the hull.  "Did you pick up another stray?" he asked with a grin.  "Permission to come aboard captain?"

Baroness had been happy to let the group move and talk about her. She wasn't exactly in a rush to start forcing herself on others. This was all much more thrilling than the outing she expected when she agreed to a concert with a boorish date. She instead kept an ear on the conversations and let her eyes scan over these headquarters--not for anything in particular but one never knew what could come in handy. While she left her mind distracted a homunculus began to grow from out her shoulder, bubbling up until it sat hunched and garbling small sounds. She picked the little thing off her shoulder once it had formed and held it in her arms, petting it idly as she scanned the group and location.

She raised an eyebrow at the questioning of Serenade. She looked down to her homunculus and smiled as it chirped something up at her, scratching under its chin she spoke to its guttural cooing, "I agree, little one--I'd say a brick to the head would excuse a great deal."

She listened to the conversation that her rather normal perceptive powers picked up. She picked up on Gale's comment and went walking over, "Indeed--Sorry to intrude," smiling over to Phantasm and giving a nod of greeting before looking back to Gale, "I'm Baroness. Now--What team would that be, if I may ask?"

Singapore Harbor

Joe raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" he replied, spitting something on the deck that sizzled with corrosive bacteria. The guy who decided he wanted to invite himself to raise the little nova girl... great. Just what he needed.


"Cripes... You guys really are just little kids running around playing dress up and cowboys and indians, over and over again..."

"I can't believe you people...No you can't come on my boat..."

He turned to his "passenger."

"You can't run from biology. Don't make me show you what that means - you really don't want to know."

Dragón held up his hands.  "Woah, Joe," he said placatingly, "it's not like we're following you around.  This little limpet mine," he said, pointing at the clinging nova, "and her pals were blowing the hell out of downtown Singapore, trying to kidnap a businessman two other novas were trying to protect.  There was nobody around to stop them.  Singapore doesn't have an anti-nova force and Utopia doesn't come into this part of the world.  Every time an energy blast tore into a car driving down the road, every time some super-strong nova plowed through the side of a building, innocent people got hurt or killed.  We were in a position to help, so we did.

"I don't know what it is that brings you to Singapore, but I'm genuinely sorry you got caught up in this."

He turned his attention to Joe's unwanted passenger.  "Ma'am, as far as I'm concerned, if you want to make yourself scarce back to where you came from, as long as you don't make any more trouble, I'm not going to stop you."

He hovered with Gravitas, pacing the boat as it slid gracefully toward the mouth of the river, trying to think of anything else he could do to defuse the situation.

Singapore
The nova clinging to the ship pursed her lips at Joe's comment, weighing her options.  Before she could come to any conclusions, or even argue her case further, she saw Dragon approach.  She froze, clinging to the boat, anxiety written across her face.  She was thrilled when Dragon allowed her to leave, and she nodded in gratitude as she turned to leave.  "If we meet again, I'll remember this.  Both of you."  She took off fast, skimming over the top of the water as she moved to the Northeast.

The police on shore, aided by agents from the Directive, were cleaning up the mess and giving unfriendly looks to any novas on scene.  For those wanting to avoid further conflict, leaving the area was quickly becoming the best course of action.

---

Dallas, TX
Vigilance's efforts managed to quell the emotions of the baseline crowds, dispersing the rioters and calming the panicked festival patrons.  The news covered the event, and even more than the events in Singapore, the actions in Dallas brought Vigilance into the public eye.  Comstock had directly announced himself as a new player in nova affairs; no longer a follower, he was now leading others and intervening in world events.  The talking heads loved it.  They hammered away at the Dallas event from every angle, scoring ratings spikes for themselves and providing Comstock and Vigilance with the questionable windfall of massive publicity.

---

Safehouse
Antonio, returned from assisting in Dallas and standing directly in Dillon's shadow (better metaphors could not be engineered) turned toward Baroness and answered her question with a fervent gaze and firm tone. "We're Vigilance.  We're here to make a difference, and I hope that everyone here will join the cause."  At least Dillon had one true believer to forward his movement...

Daphne let go of Serenade and began looking over the file that Comstock had handed to her. "I am alright Laura, I am just glad you didn't get hurt and the situation didn't get any worse." Daphne smiles at Laura as she says this.

Phantasm nodded at Gale.  Not an "everything's cool" nod, but a "what's done is done, lets move on" sort of nod.  "You're not human anymore, none of us are.  Just don't forget you once were.  It's easy to do, without an organization to make sense of things, growing power, and a bunch of dysfunctional new friends telling you how awesome their group is.  I know, I really do."

After their quick aside, Phantasm moved through the room, greeting the new faces.  "Baroness, pleasant surprise.  No dropping lights on people, we won't get our deposit back."  She spoke with a welcoming smile, then moved on to Daphne. "So this is Serenade's shadow.  You don't look like a mind slave to me, if you don't mind me saying." Tabloids, they were terrible.

Daphne smiled at Phantasm as she spoke. "Nope, not a mind slave or any kind of slave for that matter. I just happen to be good friends with Serenade. She has helped me find my way after loosing it somewhat recently. I don't know why people make up such ridiculous stories about me. I just want them to leave me alone sometimes, but I am getting used to being in the public eye more and more.

Singapore Harbor

Joe turned his head and gave a dirty look to the hovering nova.

"Story of my life - I'm minding my own business and people come 'round and dump a their toilets in my lap. Thanks for all the help," he groused.

Joe's body contorted effortlessly and stretched as he began picking up ropes and bits of kit that had been tossed about when he was making for the harbor mouth. Soon after a third arm, loose and tentacle-like, slithered out from between the buttons of his lime green and orange shirt to take the wheel as his main hands began to run up the sails.

"I'm headed to Taiwan next, or maybe Phuket. Gonna wait until this bs dies down and see if I can't manage to get paid even though you and your friends spooked the locals with your Super Friends Captain America routine."

Joe shook his head and scowled, spitting on the deck.

"Next time do it somewhere away from my boat next time?"

With that, Joe tugged the sails up and returned to a shape more or less resembling his initial one and flipped a jaunty captain's hat onto his head.

"Hasta luego El Rambo!"

"Before you go, take this," Dragón said, handing Joe a calling card, "it can't change your karma, but the next time it happens, give us a call and we'll come help clean up the mess."

Then he turned to Gravitas.  "Let's go collect our...um...'guests' and head back to the barn.  Dad's gonna ground us if we're any later for his big meeting."

Johnny removed and collapsed the helmet he'd brought along for stowing.  His next move was supposed to bring him suavely aside Baroness to introduce himself properly, but someone slapped a packet in his hands just as he was about to make his move.  "Thanks," Johnny muttered glumly.  Antonio had arrived and started talking in that lost moment.  Oh well.

As he started paging through, he started putting two-and-two together.  El Dragón's convenient proximity to Bahrain after not being in touch ... the general cold-shoulder Utopia had paid to most of the old T2M ... the decision to pack up and move T2M:A from Las Vegas to Mexico City ... he couldn't help but look surprised.  Even if he didn't grasp all the science parts, he read through the rest fairly quickly.

"It's moving forward," he mumbled to himself.  Bored, he closed up the packet and made his way over to Gale by way of the pallet of snacks.  "CoreBru?" he offered, thrusting an XWF-sponsored energy drink in her general direction.  "I liked the rainstorm.  The crap always washes out, and the grease and oil comes up to the top."  Whether she accepted the offered drink or not, he started chugging his own.  "So, this packet tells me a few things.  Like how the heck some Michaelist bullets could put a dent in the likes of you and Flare, f'rinstance.  I'm guessing from that last display that you aren't exactly under the weather anymore."

Sean stepped warily through the portal, unsure of what he would find on the other side. What he wasn't expecting was a pocket army of luminaries, and Serenade and Daphne. He looked around, "Hello, all.  My name's Sean. I work for DVNS." He then walked over to Serenade and Daphne, "Ma'am, Ma'am, nice to see you again."

Operator followed Sean through the portal. He knew better than to follow strangers through stranger portals, but there was an invitation made, and seeing how things were progressing for Dragon's boss seemed a worthwhile way to spend an afternoon.

"I am the Operator. I'm known to some."

Jonas scanned the room from behind Wheelman, looking for familiar faces, and reading the area for familiar thoughts.

Dragón keyed his radio one last time before he stepped through the portal.  "Sol, we're headed back.  Last call for a portal to the safe house."  He paused a moment, then said, "Well, whatever you're up to, don't hesitate to give me a call if you feel the need for some backup."

Back in Illinois, he first checked on Cassia (who he had left there when he responded to Comstock's call) to make sure she was okay.  Then he quietly went through the information packet he was handed.

Baroness raised an eyebrow at the unexpected fervor from Antonio as she turned to look at him. She let a smile creep back to her lips, "A difference, hm? How novel."

She heard Phantasm and let her head tilt back as she laughed, responding with a grin, "Oh, well fine. I suppose a riot, unexpected air travel, and being transported via portal will have to be enough for me. I'll find the strength somewhere I'm sure." She took a step back, scanning back over the crowd as the more familiar members chatted about.

Laura nodded in acquiescence to Comstock as she took the files from him.  She began flipping through the portfolio her eyes growing wider with each page.  "This is some very incriminating evidence...you know that if the public got word of this it would ruin everything that Utopia stated that they were working toward?  So what's the plan?  Are we going to be a new Team Tomorrow, one free from the political ties of a larger organization or government?"   As she finished the statement she heard Baroness's statement to her pet, made brief eye contact with her and her mouth turned up slightly in a grateful grin.

Suddenly Wheelman and Jonas ported in and strode up to her and Daphne.  "Wheelman?  Operator?  You two got invited as well?  What a pleasant surprise!"    She closed the folder, set it on the small end table next to her, and embraced both of the men in a hug, with a kiss on both cheeks...is she lingered a little longer with Jonas than could be considered casual who could tell.

"Yes.  A new team.  To do the right thing when governments won't."  Antonio smiled at Baroness.  "The strongest of the planet's heroes are here to lead us."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:21, Mon 28 Oct 2013.

Gale refused the drink, and raised a brow at Johnny's comments.  "Really?  That was bad, even for you."  She shook her head and then pushed herself away from the wall to take another stroll about the room.  It was filling up quickly now, as people ported in from locations all over the world.

"I don't know if 'invited' is the right word, Ma'am, at least for me.  Our assignment in Singapore went pear-shaped and we needed discrete extraction.  Still, I'm very interested to see what transpires here, we seemingly have luminaries from T2MA, past and present.  Members of the inner circle of the Teragen, and one of the most influential business magnates on the planet.  For gatherings such as this, I'd be far more comfortable polishing the limo in the garage rather than actually being in the room.  I'm half expecting Impetus himself to drop in through the ceiling.  From what I've read he knows almost everybody here."  Realizing that he was babbling, Sean clammed up.  The problem with ultra attractive, ultra charismatic people like Serenade was that they caused you to make a fool of yourself in front of them before you knew it.  He put his polite but distant mask back in place and observed the room from behind his mirrored shades.

"What?  It wasn't that bad.  C'mon, there was a real question in there.  About these eufiber-nano-whatevers!"  He grumbled, chugged the rest of his drink and then opened the next can and started in on that one.

He sauntered over to the crowd forming in the middle of the room.  "So is this where the celebrities are hanging out?  Johnny Afterburner.  You might recognize me from the action figure."  He introduced himself with a sparkling smile and a firm handshake.  "So, if I'm reading right, Utopia helped invent a way to kill nova powers.  Not exactly feeling great about that right now."

"Mr. Afterburner, hello, my name's Sean, I work for DVNS.  I've heard a lot about you via a mutual acquaintance, a Mr. Paidrag Mulligan.  The man is something of a braggart, but tell me, did you two really rescue a 10 year old nova from 10 nova kidnappers?"

"Something like that," Johnny smirked.  "Mechanus makes a lot of noise.  Gives DeVries a good name, though.  Surprised he mentioned that little incident, though.  Wasn't exactly our most glorious moment."

Singapore

"Well, I'd say give him a call."

"What does Comstock say?"

"Comstock says a lot of things.  I'm making the call on this one."

"Ms. Landers, I do not-"

"I'd ask him myself, but I'm sort of busy.  And sort of a 'wanted terrorist.'  Now get to it."

"Acknowledged."

---

On Joe's boat, a phone began to ring.  Terri picked up.  "Good day."  The voice was deep, unmistakably a native english speaker but accent neutral.  "Is this Terri?  I would like to speak to Joe the Nova about a work opportunity.  My name is Xenon.  I did not wish to intrude while a cluster of novas hovered around your boat and harassed you."

"I can come over to your boat, if you like, or you can both meet me dockside."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Thu 31 Oct 2013.

The Strait of Singapore

Singapore proper was already a kilometer behind them when the phone rang. Terri was trying to clean herself up when the man called about the job. I know he loves me but...

"Joe," the English woman said in a voice still shaky from earlier, "Joe? There's someone on the phone for you..."

After some wrangling with the steering, Joe finally took over the phone.

"Dockside is no good and I don't allow clients on my boat," Joe explained. "If you can meet me dockside then it shouldn't be too much trouble for you to come across the strait to Bulam Island? That's outside of Singapore territorial waters, so whatever's going on there shouldn't hassle us. And if the Malaysians want to squawk about the meeting... well, I trust we're not setting up shop and you're not selling pork?"

"Oh, and since we've not worked together before and I've had to restate this for some reason lately: I don't weaponize things, I don't deal in nuclear materials, and I'm not an Elite. There are plenty of Novas out there willing to thug it out for money, I'm not one of them."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:34, Thu 31 Oct 2013.

"No, I am neither a biogeneticist nor an arms dealer.  And yes, I can meet you at Bulam Island.  I will be there soon.  Thank you."

---

"Well?"

"He wishes to meet at Bulam Island.  Do you have the coordinates?"

"Yeah.  And you get one more portal after that.  I'm using up all my quantum on this."

"I understand."

Xenon stepped through the portal and floated above a beach on the northern edge of a tropical island.  Some fishing boats and shacks lined the edges of the island, but Xenon was alone.  He waited, patient and unmoving, hovering in the air.  His hands, feet, and every inch of skin was covered by a white and gray auto-racing suit.  His face was concealed behind a helmet with a mirrored faceplate, and he carried a briefcase in his right hand.

The sailing vessel slid quickly through the waves. It was just over 2km from Singapore to the island rendezvous point and they'd covered half that just clearing dock traffic. There was still plenty of ships to avoid - Singapore was a big city and even a conflict with Novas involved couldn't completely shut down the mercantile heartbeat of the tropical port.

Bulan was part of Riau archipelago. There were probably nearly a million people spread out over the whole lot, but that meant they were still vanishingly unpopulated compared to the city to the north. The rendezvous point was near an old fish processing plant, not exactly prime real estate even this close to Singapore.

Joe secured his personal electronics in their watertight bag and kissed Terri on the cheek. She winced, but neither said anything, the both of them ashamed of themselves. Joe's form shifted as he leapt into the water, his body turning torpedo shaped and slick, a fluked, tentacled otherworldly hind section replacing his legs and his hands enlarging into distorted crocodilian paddles.

The tropical seas were empty of major fauna, the best efforts of pollution reduction in Singapore couldn't erase decades of destruction. Joe wasn't some Greenpeace sort, but it was hard not to notice and feel a little sad about it. It was strange how underwater, wearing the face of something that never existed on the planet, away from Terri, he sometimes felt the most himself. He didn't want to be this way, it reminded him of a conversation he'd once had with a ship-hand he'd once sailed with. A convicted pedophile, the man was horrified at himself, fled to the sea to get away from his evil compulsions, drown his past sins in the ocean or something like that. Sometimes it felt like that, except the world kept chasing Joe down the rabbit hole, insisting that he feed his compulsion, pour itself into the shapeless maw that sometimes looked him in the eye at night until he woke up and realized it was himself.

He sighed as he breached the surface and meticulously tried to remember himself as "Joe-shaped" again, the seal-like whiskers and baleen he'd begun to form while he woolgathered sliding away from his face like melting wax. Pulling the waterproof bag from his neck he double checked his personal effects out of long habit and padded through the sand towards the floating figure. Joe reflexively scanned the nova's biological carriers on, his trust in his sense of microfauna entirely more trustworthy than his eyes.

"I'm here," he announced unnecessarily.

"As am I.  As promised."  Xenon descended and nodded to his fellow nova.  "I will not waste your time.  I want you to help me save lives.  I am not from Utopia, or the Teragen, or any government.  And I need someone who can tell the difference between, let's say, Rikkettsia asiatica and Yersinia pseudotuberculosis."

Fascinatingly, Xenon was almost totally bare of microfauna.  The briefcase had petri dishes with different cultures, probably part of a test to be sure Joe was the real deal, but Xenon had all the marks of an obsessive.  His costume was scrubbed clean, probably on a regular basis, and if Joe had to guess Xenon regularly sterilized with some sort of alocohol based cleaner or vapor.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:00, Thu 31 Oct 2013.

Joe snorted and switched to his professional mode, straightening up as he answered the man as best as he could.

"Rickettsia is a completely different sort of creature than any of the Yersinias. Enterobacteriaceae are all hyperactive - like three year olds on too much candy. Most of them have a very implicit high opinion of themselves. They taste a little greenish-yellow, mixed with something like almonds and kale's crunchiness."

"Rickettsia's are like your best friend, all of them salesmen. It makes sense, it was probably how they coaxed their way into the genome...mitochondria. They're a little like web spiders, very smug and pleasant sounding. Come in, come in. I wouldn't hurt a fly. They taste lemony, like a lot of other parasites, but sometimes a little bit of bitter garlic and rotting grass. Neither are particularly pleasant company, either for me or for anyone else. If you're shopping for pets I suggest a dog."

"I mostly specialize in marine work, Mr. Xenon. I'm not directly familiar with asiatica, and I know pseudotuberculosis mostly by its more famous cousins... You seem germ obsessive, a hobby? Who do you work for? Most of my clients don't feel the need to promise a lack of involvement from your laundry list of non-backers, I hope you don't mind that I find that more suspicious than comforting. Why the mask, if I can meet people looking like this," he said with a hint of disgust, "I'm fairly certain that I can take whatever horse kicked you in the face too if it means we can speak to each other eye to eye." The last was said with a hint of irony, and tiny polyp'd combs sprouted inside his eye sockets to wag at the floating nova as he said it.

Curious, Joe began to sort the sorts of microfauna the man did have. Stomach bacteria, the candidas, etc. all sometimes provided a fascinating implied analysis of what a person did and where they had been.

Xenon nodded, pleased to hear Joe taking this seriously.  With a friendly shrug, Xenon dismissed the idea of removing his mask.  "The mask is my face, Joe.  I work for Vigilance.  A short while ago, there was a chase through Singapore, as several armed parties attempted to abduct a wealthy man protected by Elites.  This was part of a larger scheme to inflame tensions and provide pretext for more aggressive regulation of finance and fishing in the South China Sea, all as a pretext to secure new natural resource access rights via regional warfare.  Vigilance saw and acted to end the fighting, before events could unfold.  I want you to have a factual statement of our intentions and associations, up front and without dissembling.  We are defined by our separation from geopolitical projects.  You have had other chance encounters with members of Vigilance already.  I wanted to meet you in person."

He set the briefcase down on the beach and opened it.  In it, Joe could see carefully arranged dishes, stacked up upon one another, and several wads of money in about four different currencies. "Please forgive how crude this is, but it is imperative that I understand you: my interest is not in pseudotuberculosis, necessarily, but in whether you can thread a particular needle.  In these petri dishes are bacteria cultures and several more exotic cells.  I need to know if you can tell me which of these dishes contain eufiber fibers, and whether you can tell me anything about the composition and cell structure of the eufiber samples."

"Your background does not suggest an abundance of higher education, but your comments suggest you have taken up reading and biology since your eruption.  I would not presume you to tolerate my gauche test purely out of scientific curiosity, however.  Whether or not you take this test, that money is yours."

Of the many dishes, only four contained any eufiber at all.  And every one of those eufiber samples were odd.  'Infected' would be a good word.  Accompanied by some highly regular and very small microbe that did not respond as readily to Joe's quantum.

As for Xenon, there were some very, very strange qualities to the man.  For instance, he had no E. coli, for example, but rather a colony of an altogether similar bacterium in its place.  He certainly stood out in a crowd, in more than just one way.

Joe shook his head.

"Can't tell you anything about the cell structure. It doesn't work that way - I don't see anything. Sometimes they'll self-report, complain...buzz about stuff that I already know about, gives things context? But all this stuff doesn't exactly turn a pair of eyeballs around and let you have a conversation that makes a lot of sense without knowing a bit more about what's going on. You've got some infected eufiber, and you've got a bug in that eufiber that's a little squirrely even for me. Give me some time and I could crawl inside there maybe and see what's going on more directly, and given the understanding that you're looking to "cure" it I could sure as hell dose the one bug with a wide range of predatory microfauna and chemical combinations that would give Pax himself jock itch. Maybe Balmer could do better, but you'd have to listen to him congratulate himself while he did it."

Eufiber was normally fairly mobile and responsive, even to other novas, so Joe tried to see if he could coax the colonies into activity, determine if they were still charged or attuned to someone specific. If the exotic microbe seemed to be interfering, he first attempted to see if it would respond to commands not to directly, and if that didn't work he saw if he could try to gather some airborne fungal spores and "run interference" by brute force between the colonies and the microbe.

"You have an interesting take on escherichia yourself, Mr. Xenon. Do you have any problems with your menaquinones? Maybe they're providing a completely different vitamin makeup? I don't really do this around people very often, much less novas."

He looked up, regardless of the outcome.

"I can't say that I've ever been fond of classrooms, they never liked me much either. The biology bit, it's always been just a... fascination. I'm not sure I'm your man for needlework, but I'm interested enough that I want in - even if it's to just to make sure you're not messing it all up, like by carting around dangerous exotic organisms with you as show and tell for job interviews. Every road to hell is paved with the best of intentions, no?"

Wilhelm internally debated whether he should inform his hosts that opening a portal within a Faraday cage obviated the purpose of the cage.  As soon as people started teleporting he started getting wireless Opnet service from Dallas, Texas.  Only one bar, but enough to sync his emails.  All 307 that he'd gotten in the past half hour, not counting the spam.  ... löschen ... löschen ... weiterleiten ... löschen ... senden ... und abgemacht.  Email dealt with and no one the wiser thanks to his PDA being integrated into his carapace, Wilhelm turned his attention back to what was going on in the safehouse.  Things had gotten crowded while he was busy selling killbots to the Texas Rangers.  He quickly perused the reading materials he'd been presented, secreted the "calling card" away (not trusting strange flash drives, at least not until the anti-virus big iron at KHI Supercomputing had a chance to chew on them for a while), and mentally cataloged all of the new novas coming in from points further south.  Nothing too very unanticipated.  All the glad-handing and snacks were disconcerting, though.  No way to run a revolution.  A political campaign maybe, but not a revolution.  Wilhelm was tempted to depart, but paused.  Perhaps the conduct of this affair, an affair that hadn't been mentioned before he'd been teleported in, could serve as another indication of sincerity.  He'd give leadership a few minutes to manifest.  Sidling through the assembled novas, he made his way to wherever Comstock had settled.  "Is there anything else?  Because you know where to find me when you wish to discuss ... business."

"There is another thing, Mr. Forster.  Mr. Amargosa is clearly a bit busy coordinating things, and while he finishes up I wondered if I might have a moment of your time?"  Saul was old, it was rare for nova's to erupt so late in life.  He was a serious man with a gentle tone, and quite polite.  He lowered his voice, not low enough to avoid being heard by the more perceptive novas in the room, but enough to lend the feeling of privacy at least.

"I am a healer, as you may know.  I worked with Utopia in many of its outreach and charity efforts, and in their research department.  I've been working on my skills since I erupted; you could say that the life I lived before all this gave me a different perspective, and made me intent on making a difference instead of showboating like some of these others.  Apologies for rambling, but my point is, I've developed my healing abilities in new directions and I've recently been working to help the afflicted young nova's we take in deal with their mutations.  I wanted to offer you the same help I offer them: the chance to get out of that shell and be free of your condition."

Xenon seemed pleased.  "I am nihilistic on the subject of hell.  But yes, I agree with the sentiment.  These samples, for instance.  What you are detecting right now is a nanomachine, a microbe engineered from eufiber so it can attune to a nova's MR Node.  They were made to disrupt nova powers, all with the best of intentions.  Sadly, it would seem that a bioethicist could not be found during the design stages."

"Since you can detect the weapon, or at the very least the changes it produces in MR-tissue and eufiber, can you also disable it?  Or destroy it?"  He he stretched out his palms.  "Don't tell me here.  If you have the time, members of Vigilance are presently gathering.  I would like you to come as my guest, if you trust that I will return you to your boat, no questions asked, should you ask."

Comstock knew better than to repeat the question for Solitaire.  She'd respond once she'd finished communing with the gods or whatever strange meditation had overtaken her.  The mission was accomplished anyway, and the local military knew better than to try and push her out of their airspace just for loitering.

"Alright, that's two crises averted.  Landers, you've got this.  Time for me to start doing that talking BS thing."  He puffed out his cheeks with a big sigh and collected himself for the big moment.  Slider gave him a thumbs up and kept monitoring, in case Xenon, Solitaire, or someone else out in the field needed a quick doorway back.

He filtered back through the room, answering questions for anyone who had them, specifically stopping by to thank Gravitas and El Dragon for their assistance.

---

“Most of you know me.  Those of you who don’t: I’m Dillon Amargosa.  Comstock.  The Metal Man.

“All of you have seen the news.  Caestus Pax and the Teragen destroyed the Rashoud Center and Research Hospital in Bahrain last year, and since then the whole world’s arming up for a major war.  What they aren’t telling you is that a group inside Project: Utopia called Proteus was engineering the nova final solution in there, a eufiber-based nano-machine that targets the node and kills nova powers.  It’s all there in your packets, including photos, serial numbers, tissues samples ... everything.  Everyone, every nova I ever apprehended and sent back to a Rashoud Center for medical care, mental health, rehabilitation ... they were imprisoned,  Experimented on.  Killed.  Or worse.

“Utopia lied.  And not just to me.  They tolerate Proteus because its easy.  Because they like having people to do the dirty work while they get the glory.  Because they’re afraid of what will happen without them.  Utopia gave up on hope.  And now they just want control.

“I called you here because someone has to take a stand.  Utopia wants to make the whole world believe this was just the scheme of another crazy nova, and they’ve blocked any sort of real investigation.  We’re going to expose their lies.  And then we’re going to hold this world together.

“There’s no place else to turn.  The major governments of the developed world -- the US, the UK, Russia, Japan, South Korea -- their solution is just to make a secret army and police everything.  Keep novas under control.  Register and tag us like we’re animals, not people.  And the teragen isn’t an organization; it’s a thought experiment, with one nova supremacist for every humanitarian leader.

“Control is a trick.  It’s bullshit.  When I joined T2M, we didn’t have control.  We were people working to make things right.  I want to keep doing that.  So that’s Vigilance.  A new Project, built from the ground up.  We’ll police our own because no one else can be trusted to.  We’ll make the world a better place because no one else can.  And we’ll make a safe place for novas or die trying.”

-

”If you want in, you’re in.  If not, we have a phone for you to take with you in case you change your mind or ever need help.  Slider or Phantasm will get you back where you’re going with no fuss.  You can even claim we kidnapped you if it makes you feel better.  But if you’re staying, check the back page of your packets.”

He paused to let his words sink into the room.  ”Based on your skills, Phantasm and I have given each of you team assignments.  There aren’t many of us, but we’ll grow.  First up, Team Alpha.”  A third of the room raised their hands in acknowledgement.  ”You’re good at disappearing.  Causing trouble.  Distributing information.  Finding things.  Faking records.  Operating independently.  You’re our underground railroad.  Our first priority.  Spread the truth about Utopia.  Find new novas, get them to safety.  If they get whisked away to a Rashoud Center or the Blackburn Hotel, chances are they aren’t getting out of there with a choice in who they associate with or what side they’re on.  If they want to join a side, that’s their choice.  If they want to join us, that’s their choice.  And if they want to disappear back into the public under an assumed identity, that’s their choice.  We’ll help make it happen.”

”Next, Beta.”  Another third.  ”You answer to Phantasm.  You’re our spies, the eyes and ears of Vigilance.  The Alphas can’t do their jobs if they’re compromised.  And we need to know about the Directive and Utopia, what secrets they’re hiding and what they’re planning.  So you’re going to spy.  Infiltrate.  Surveil.  It will be your job to out-think some of the biggest organizations on the planet to keep the rest of us safe.  Leave no shadow, no rock to hide under.”

”Finally, Gamma.”  The remaining hands all came up, including Comstock’s.  ”You answer to me.  We’re the public face of Vigilance.  We’ll do a lot of fighting.  We’re going to need a lot of mobility, too, but that’s where Slider comes in.  When we’re not out there giving Vigilance a good name, we’ll be gathering resources, building safe houses, and training for the next battle.  At any time, we could be called on to assist teams Alpha and Beta, fight the most powerful novas and armies in the world, or even even lay down our lives.”

Comstock paused, looking for questions and obviously waiting on some signal before continuing his speech.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
OOC: So, there are bound to be some other NPCs, and some of these faces probably aren't even present at the moment.  But here's the tentative groupings for where PCs and NPCs fit.  Team assignments were primarily made to get people into plot the fastest.

Alphas: Underground Railroad
Dr Edda Czyniewski
Carla "Dossier" Hernandez
Dr Worm
John Franklin
Victor "Pluto" Hughes
Vic/Vicki Pine
Witch
Kitten


Betas: Spies
Phantasm
Dragon
Johnny Afterburner
Serenade
Operator
Wheelman
Baroness
Daphne
Xenon
Joe


Gammas: Battle
Comstock
Slider
Gale
Flare
Antonio Cruz
Saul Jensen
Triton
Shade

Associates: People with their own empires and games going on who may be interested in helping out now and again.
Imp
Gravitas
Solitaire
Kraken

---

"It's a useful metaphor though, regardless. People aren't wired to see that they're being bastards, they think the right thing is something that needs to be done and they rationalize away their actions and call it morality."

He scratched his chin.

"I could do all everything you say. Give me the right equipment to see what I'm doing, some facilities and incubators? Biology is hard for people because it's foreign to them. Even scientists... There's a difference between knowing anatomy and having anatomy. Biology's actually pretty easy in a narrow sort of way - microbiology's even simpler. At some point it becomes mechanical, and if you've got the right lever, if you can readily move the tools around? It's no more complicated than setting a broken leg, or fixing a cracked pipe."

"But the sort of thing you're asking me to do, the complicated bit isn't doing it but the reasons surrounding it. Who made this weapon and why, and why should I help you counter this weapon and compel those people to just try harder next time? One atomic bomb isn't a problem, it's thousands of nukes lurking out there in the context of a Cold War, setting the stage for dozens of little wars that hovered over the world for decades. Those Novas over there in Singapore," he waved in that direction, "All think they're helping people, but everyone's just escalating things a little bit further each and every time. Baselines are right to fear us. I'm afraid of us... So someone's making weapons to disrupt nova powers? What's wrong with that. Why do we deserve to have all of this power? What exactly does the world lose if we all suddenly disappeared?"

"You've presented a puzzle that I likely can solve, now convince me why I should help you."

"Why you should help me."  The masked nove's head tilted in acknowledgement.  "That is the question."

Xenon turned slightly away and touched a button on his helmet.  "Miss Landers.  Please open a portal."  He turned back to Joe.  "I cannot persuade you.  I can only ask your help and present you with questions.  And give you opportunity to keep asking your own."

"Well, obviously you can't if you won't, and especially since everything you've said or done since you've arrived is so much utter doublespeak and nonsense. I say no weapons research? You agree and present me with plagues and anti-nova nanos. I ask for a description of who you represent? You say words that mean nothing. Even your presence is pretty clearly a casual declaration of animosity towards me - did they send you here thinking I'd dissolve someone else into component parts?"

"You're a terrible spokesperson for your group, even worse than I would be. So you must not be... If I refuse, will I have to kill you to get your "Vigilance" from killing me? Maybe your plan is to infect me to keep me occupied, else I reveal your amazingly incomprehensible set of nonintentions to the greater public for some share of fame I've never sought? Maybe you'll unleash them on Singapore now, to blame on the other novas and sway the public to your side? Maybe blame me?"

Joe took a deep breath.

"You'd better leave."

"Of course."  Xenon exited through the portal that appeared, leaving Joe alone on the beach.

"Sir, if I may," Sean said, clearly unused to speaking in front of a group, let alone a group of luminaries like those assembled, "I'm not entirely sure of your goals.  You speak of threat neutralization, covert exfils, surveillance and data mining, but unless there is a big picture plan you will be perpetually putting out bushfires and chasing your tail.
You speak of outing Utopia's dirty laundry, which many nations, particularly those of the directorate, will approve, but many others will not.  If you then expose these countries' pogroms, super soldier initiatives, and black ops you will be crucified in the media, will have the hearts and minds of the civilians turned against you, and will have those same super soldier assets aimed at you.  As well as every elite hitman they can hire.
Further, you will lack any way to contain enemy combatants, as those facilities designed to do so are presumably the same ones you're going to try to dismantle, thus you will be forced to kill those that take up arms against you, which will only give your enemies greater ammunition in the press.
Finally, unless you have a plan for reconstruction after the hostilities you will only alienate the civilians.  You must also have contingencies in place to rebuild before you enter the conflict.  Unless I'm missing something."

Guy's sharp, Comstock mused.  "We've thought about all those questions a lot, actually.  Reconstruction is a priority, and Gamma will be drilling to do just that.  For prisons and courts, the Teragen and the UN both have prospective plans for nova courts, which would alleviate that particular concern.  Meanwhile, one of our safe houses is pretty hard to get away from, but a far cry from a hospital bed in a secret underground lab with regular mox injections."

"But yes.  Your core question's an important one.  Yes, we'll be chasing our own tails.  We'll be putting out brushfires.  And yes, we're going to make a lot of enemies just for revealing criminal activity.  And yes, there will be bloodshed.  I don't have an endgame for this.  I just know I can't sit around and hope."

"The situation's already outside anyone's control.  I just want to try and do the right thing."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
EDIT: For fixing bad grammar.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 13:44, Tue 19 Nov 2013.

Joe blinked and shook his head. @#$%.

Pulling his phone out of its bag, Joe phoned the boat.

"I'll be back soon, while I'm on my way why don't you see if you can't find me a way to reach someone in charge over at Utopia? Proscribed technology... I just had an interesting conversation."

"Sir, every failed anarchist's epitaph reads exactly the same way, 'There was no plan, I just wanted to do the right thing.' With no endgame plan you effectively have no plan, per se, with no message that can be used to sway the masses.
Breaking down the components of this non-plan, i see several critical problems.
Firstly, given novas' extreme capacity for non-standard locomotion, your 'safe house' is a priori extra terrestrial, either The Moon, Mars, or one of the larger asteroids in the belt.  Perhaps even on one of the moons of the gas giants.  Is there going to be re-education and rehabilitation, or will they go there to rot?  Will there be medical care, will their powers be stripped from them via Mox, or some more exotic pharmaceutical, or will these inmates be running on a full charge, able to disintegrate, fly, teleport, turn invisible and possess their re-educators'/captors' minds?
Will this course of action be better for individuals and states than the status quo?  If so, how? If not, why do it?  What will you do if various world powers, like China, The US, the syndicates, and various multinationals declare you persona non grata and bring enough of their resources to bear to eliminate members of the organization, one by one.  It would be foolish to assume that these organizations do not have dossiers on every major nova player, and most of the lesser knowns, with all their suspected abilities, vulnerabilities, and assets detailed, and a variety of scenarios laid out for containment or elimination, should such be necessary.  Not that I'm opposed to the idea, I'm just concerned that being involved is a death sentence."

Phantasm had taken up a position of rapt attention when Comstock started talking.  Lead by example and all that.  When the questions started coming in, she let him field them, only chiming in to reinforce his position.

"When he says there isn't an endgame, part of that is because the situation is evolving.  We have goals, but the game is just starting."

"We don't have a one size fits all solution to prisoners.  Some of them will go back to utopia or their governments, some will get sent... away, and a nova terrorist in the middle of blowing up a city block will probably just be killed, at least if I'm making the call anyway.  But our real goal is to provide a different path; for every nova we take out or lock up, we'll have saved half a dozen others, whether from government abuse, choices they made out of ignorance, or their own powers. Just ask around, there's more than a few in this room to attest to that."

At the elite's mention of a threat, Phantasm smiled and her eyes glowed a vivid green.  "As far as them threatening us, they'll have a hard time.  It isn't pride when I say this, just fact: this organization is backed by some of the smartest, strongest, and most skilled novas in the world.  They'll have a rough job ahead of them if they want to take us out by force, and they know it.  Now, you're stuff about the media though, that's spot on..."

Daphne looks at the file for a second before closing and looking around. She slides closer to Serenade before finally getting up the nerve to speak.

"Ummm... not to sound grateful for the offer, but this seems all way over my head. I don't know how much use I could really be as a spy. I have never really done anything like this. I mean, how am I going to infiltrate anything like Utopia."

Daphne looks around sheepishly as she realizes she almost started babbling. "Sorry everybody, I am just kind of new to all this stuff."

Daphne steps even further behind Serenade and looks down at the floor.

"We train you," Dragón said, turning to face Daphne.  "Before I went to jump school, I didn't know the first thing about parachuting.  Just thinking about it scared the hell outa me.  But by the time I made my final qualifying jump, I went out the door with a big grin on my face.  The difference was that I understood what was happening, exactly what I was expected to do, and what to do if something went wrong.  Don't worry, we won't be sending you out to do anything you're not ready for."

Guy's annoyingly sharp, Comstock mentally corrected.  "Phantasm's got the right of it.  There isn't a perfect solution, and grabbing for one transformed the Utopia I helped build into the Utopia that manufactures WMDs for selective killing and nova containment.  You're asking me how this will make anything better?  It won't be that.  That's the only fair promise I can give."

"I won't make a meat puppet of a human being, nova or otherwise."  Comstock's face hardened, something intensely personal lending weight to those words.  The particularly astute could tell he resented association with mad anarchy.  "And the fact that I told Director Laragione myself what I was doing and nothing's come of it yet tells me that there's space for us to do what needs doing.  Or that they're afriad of what I'll do if they come after my own again."




"There's too much free information now.  People like Kraken and Gustav Keld have built institutions to keep our eyes open.  And we have a few tricks of our own to ensure our side gets heard."  Comstock held out his hands.  "After that ... people have to make up their own minds.  I know once we release our information, they'll say it's propaganda and BS.  We'll just have to be persuasive and honest."




"For you, infiltration would be the easy part.  But you're not infiltrating anything until you've had a few rounds with Dragón.  No one here is to take a risk they aren't prepared for.  If you want in, you're going to get training.  A lot of it."

"I do not understand why there is argument.  We were given powers, we should now be heroes.  This is not complicated.  We do what is right, that is all."  Antonio was indignant when he responded.  To him this was a simple decision, and he found others questions irrelevant at best, and at worst insulting to his hero Comstock.

"Oh, it seems that we're starting.  Just think about it sir, and let me know.  There are no strings attached."  Saul quieted as the others started talking, allowing them to go on at length before he interjected.  "I know that there is going to be violence, it is an inescapable part of human conflict.  I want no part of it myself though, and I'm not joining with the intent of playing medic to a bunch of terrorists.  I have faith in Dillon, that is why I'm here, but if time and tides take us to a place where massive violence, or violence for the wrong reasons, is considered acceptable... well, I'll be leaving then.  I want to see criminals reformed and violence prevented where possible.  Cures spread for those that need them, promising technology released to the masses.  Those are the reasons I am here."

"Relajar, mi amigo," Dragón said, holding up a placating hand, "no one here means any offense.  You've been blessed with a very clear vision of your path in life, you feel no hesitation in moving forward.  Not everyone is granted that blessing.  Many are just as committed to doing the right thing, but can't always immediately see what that is.  Let's try to be patient a little longer."

Sean made a mental note to never, ever, under any circumstance ever be in any situation where his success or survival depended on Cruz.  Zealots were the same regardless of which flag, deity, or cause they marched under.  He was going to get himself killed, and probably take a few people with him when he did, unless Sean missed his guess.
Also, interestingly, this nascent organization placed itself beyond human laws, thus aligned itself with some of the core tenants of the Teragen, but professed a distrust of many in that organization, regardless of Gravitas' and Solitaire's participation here.  Curious.  More curious was Johnny's presence here, as a T2M member this was the last place that he should be, and consorting with know terats, elites, and anarchs.  Very curious.
Sean wasn't sure that these novas knew what they were getting into, but there was no reason alienating so many movers and shakers, especially important clients like Herr Forster, and potentially important clients like Serenade.  "I'm willing to help train people as well, I'm fully versed in espionage, both physical and electronic, as well as counter espionage.  I'm also willing to put my talents at your disposal, as long as I am not forced to compromise the interests of my employer to do so."

Daphne looks up after realizing she didn't make a complete fool out of herself. She takes a step out from behind Serenade and speaks again.

"I would appreciate any training that I can get. I am definitely interested in helping this organization out in anyway I can. So, when were you wanting to get this little group off the ground? Do you already have things planned for these teams or is it a kind of do things as they pop up organization?"

"Hah," said Kitten, slapping Daphne on the shoulder, "We're already off the ground. You don't think we gathered all these people here together at the same time on a whim, did you? Picking likely allies and such has already taken quite a bit of time. And, well, yes, part of responding to things is being reactive - like that Singapore dealio earlier today or the riot at the concert," she turned toward a wall and shook her fist in indignation at a part of her entertainment being interrupted.

"Anyhoo, a big part of what we'll be doing is," she turned towards Phantasm, "and please correct me if I'm wrong," she turned back to Daphne, "keeping our eyes and ears open. Stopping major terrorist events or getting to newly erupted novas before Utopia or whoever isn't going to be something we'll be able to predict very well. Not without folks keeping their fingers on the pulse of the media and such, anyway."

"And some of us are more visible than others," Gale added, finally chiming in on the conversation.  She made a motion to Comstock and herself. "We're too high profile to be seen anywhere we're not expected.  There's only one metal man and one woman with wings.  That's why we need the teams.  It gives everyone a chance to do the most good that they can with their resources and skill sets."

Laura pursed her lips in thought and finished reading the portfolio while Comstock gave his speech.  "And this is why it was important for it to look like I was detained by Vigilance.  The train wreck of a pop star who was arrested couldn't possibly be working as a spy for the organization that attempted to bring her to task for her actions.  That is the thought, no?  Our group is about infiltration?"   She tapped a slender finger thoughtfully on her lower lip as her nova enhanced mind raced with the possibilities and options.

Comstock nodded to Serenade.  "Something like that.  I'm not going to lie: I don't like anyone laying into crowds of people.  But yes, I'll take the opportunity for what its worth.  If you want to participate, you're welcome.  If not, we'll let you off with a warning."

From Comstock's perspective this was going ... about as well as could be expected.  "We are already off the ground.  Utopia and the Directorate are looking for their scapegoat, Dr. Worm, and I have two other new friends out looking for him too since I don't think he'll get anything resembling a fair trial.  We've already helped another two novas disappear back into society to try to live normal lives.  And once we're done here I'll be getting back to the task of bankrolling this operation: we may be extra-legal and extra-national, but I'll bleed out before I'll let this operation become just another cartel."

"I want everyone to think about this.  You've got four weeks.  If you all still feel the same way after that time, we'll start making uniforms, badges, and all that crap."

Jumping at Shadows
Justin turned to the group, looking at the collected faces and unblinking eyes.  "We don't need a new player on the scene, especially not one of this nature.  Elimination is not an option, for reasons already discussed.  We also cannot risk taking direct action against them, given both their erratic nature and the danger posed by publicly acknowledging them.  That leaves us with few options.  You know my plans of course, but I'm open to suggestions before we move forward."

As expected, Jeong was the first to engage, telepathically projecting her thoughts for clearer understanding.  We need to move amongst them, find someone willing to help us, to keep us apprised of their movements and plans.  Where force cannot oppose, subtlety may yet guide...

Anne spoke next, predictably opposed to subtle maneuverings.  "Just cut them off and be done with it.  I know these people; they're powerful and smart, but not really clever or independent enough to be a successful threat, or at least not the kind of threat we're really worried about.  Take out their resources, make life hard on them, they'll be too busy to do anything that matters."

A low mental hum indicated the korean woman's disapproval and the beginnings of a thought projection, but one of the teleconferenced members cut in.  Otho.  "I think that Jeong has the right of it, and I think I know someone who fits into the pattern perfectly, if we can convince him.  He was even nice enough to give us a call, right after the incident in Singapore."

Justin nodded. "Alright then.  Anne, we are doing that, but we need more.  I agree with Jeong as well, it was where I was hoping the discussion would go actually.  We will assign someone to make contact and--"

Whitley, silent to this point, spoke firmly despite his advancing years.  "I will make contact, and handle the situation.  I have a more friendly touch, after all."

Justin eyed the man, friend and opponent for so long.  "Unexpected, but fine.  Just don't deviate, we have a plan and I mean to see it accomplished this time."

---

New Friends
Whitley spoke politely to the woman that answered the phone.  "Yes miss, if you would be so kind.  Yes, when he gets back in please let him know the time of the proposed meeting.  Thank you so much, and pass on our thanks to him as well.  Goodbye now."  Terri seemed a nice woman, though her background and current life choices spoke volumes about her troubled mental state.  Still, it never hurt to be polite.  As she hung up the phone, he could here her begin speaking to her boyfriend, "You oughta go..."

If things went well, Joe would agree to the meeting, set at a small diner in Kennebunk, Maine.  It was a statement, both that they knew the man's background, and that they were willing to deal with him on his terms.  Transportation was available of course, or he could come in by boat, so long as he made it on time.  Whitley didn't approve of tardiness at all.

---

Gambling
Dillon sat in a private booth, curtains mostly drawn.  The show on the floor, dancers artfully displaying their flesh for the bored Russian elite, was coming to a temporary close.  Not that many of them took notice.  The majority of the patrons were more interested in gambling, and the auction set for later in the evening.  That was why Dillon came, after all.

The famous Metal Man was only able to get in thanks to his new-found notoriety; being on the international wanted list apparently had a few perks.  On the way in, he noted a several Russian politicians and a ranking figure in the Eastern Orthodox church, all rubbing shoulders with Russian cartel members.  It wasn't just a local affair though: a Saudi sheik, Japanese power brokers (both legal and illicit), a Chinese general, and wealthy american arms dealers were all in attendance.  As a waitress laid down his drink, Dillon caught a glimpse of two elites sitting down at a nearby table, and more troubling, a nova criminal he'd hoped was dead.  Juan Trajillo was seated in his own booth, less than 10 meters away.

Russia's anti-utopia stance, loose law enforcement, and corrupt government made it an ideal meeting place, and the involvement of so many powerful "legitimate" individuals made the likelihood of exposure minimal, as few were organizations were interested in the kind of fallout that would come from such revelations.  Neither Utopia nor the Directorate wanted news reports detailing how the worlds rich and powerful were buying black tech and access codes to government secrets at secret meetings after all.

As the auction grew closer, Dillon realized he would need to place his people and decide on a course of action.  He had contingencies of course, but he'd left things open so that he could adapt to the situation.  Now that people were starting to mingle a bit, the gambling tables were picking up, and the auction was only a half an hour away, he needed to make some decisions.

Hopefully the night would be worth the trouble.

---

Gods and Men
The air was sticky and hot in Eastern India, as the group trekked through the dense forest to find one of the villages the refugees had reported.  So far there were no signs of abuse, or even signs of any nova presence, at the small villages they had passed.  As the forest grew thicker and the heat more oppressive, it was tempting to turn around, but the claims of the refugees needed to be investigated: obscene rituals carried out in the name of self-styled nova "gods," small wars fought between pantheons, and the presence of religious doctrine that was suspiciously close to the dogma espoused by the Host of Eternity.

After a day of travel into the densest portion of the forest, the group came to an open clearing, trees and vegetation burnt away under intense heat that only military grade weaponry or nova powers could generate.  At the center of the clearing was a towering stone column.  Attached to it was a perfect replica of a tiger-headed woman struggling to free her raised hands from where they were clamped to the column.  Surrounding the strange monument were what appeared to be local villagers, armed with old rifles and machetes.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Insert yourself where you like, just include the title of the section you want to join in on in your post.

---

Sean stood alertly behind his current client. The prince had requested a bodyguard, and since the complications in Singapore, word had gotten around. His new rates were very much welcome, but his busier schedule left little time for the things that really mattered. Sean noted Dillon sitting at his table a short distance away, but made no indication that he knew the man. He was working.
With an effortlessness that almost made it look like he was bored and spacing out, Sean scanned the room. Whatever happened he'd be ready.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:39, Mon 10 Feb 2014.

Dragón held himself in perfect stillness in the jungle shadows.  His dragon scale suit and mask were shifting colors to perfectly mimic the background.  His eyes sought out details in what he could see, hear, and smell.  Scanning the burned patch, he looked for any signs of regrowth that could tell him how long ago the damage occurred.  He also paid careful attention to the actions of the natives around the statue, hoping he could learn something about the significance of it.

Phantasm trekked through the jungle, taking up the rear while Angelo took the front.  She wanted to be in Russia with 'Stock, but he needed to develop the skills to operate on a different sort of battlefield.  The best way she could help him do that was by letting him stand on his own, and she had the added benefit of getting to spend time with Angelo, though things hadn't quite warmed up after the initial Vigilance meeting.  Just a lack of time, or was it something else?  They had both grown since Bahrain, though she wasn't sure it was in the same direction.

Thoughts regarding her relationships continued to race through her brain even as she scanned the area for danger and analyzed the details of their situation.  The joy of processing faster is that you have all the time in the world to worry.  Looking at the burnt out patch of forest, Phantasm finally had a decent distraction.  Applying the full force of her mental abilities to the task, she attempted to decipher what exactly was going on.  She did not, however, show herself; no reason to give away an advantage after all.

Serenade leaned a little closer to her date for the evening, a high ranking member of the Bratva named Alexei Nevsky, so that her golden hair lightly tickled his ear as she pursed her ruby painted lips and made a show of blowing on the dice that he held up to her.  It was quite easy to get into the underground club once they had a name.  The wildly popular Novox star Serenade had an excuse to attend almost any party that she wanted to, and once they knew that Alexei was their man Vigilance orchestrated a chance meeting at a fundraising event.  From then it was child's play for her to play the unsuspecting criminal in her game of seduction...funny how Russian men underestimated women sometimes even if they were novas.  Alexei threw the dice onto the table, and the crowd was distracted by yet another ridiculously high stakes roll, as Serenade very briefly made eye contact with Comstock conveying that she was in position and ready for the auction.

The others in the cadre traveling through the forest were managing to do so with a fair amount of stealth. Gravitas, however, had only minor training in such things. So, while the others edged closer to the clearing, getting better views of the scene without being detected by the armed baselines, he stayed well back.

He assumed that they had some reason to want to maintain an element of surprise. Perhaps they thought a nova might be present? It was certainly a possibility. If not, well, they were only baselines. It wasn't as if they were some sort of threat absent much heavier weaponry.

He opted to check the nearby area for unknown novas. He concentrated on the series of masses in his brain that made up his Mazarin-Rashoud node and the energies that it detected. He immediately discounted the novas in his own small force and any excess energy generated by their equipment. Similarly he was able to dismiss other known sources of intense energy, such as the sun. Detecting nova-scale energies from someone not actively using their powers was a difficult task, and usually limited to a fairly small area - fifty or sixty meters from his own location - but it wasn't impossible and, often, was a quite useful trick to have practiced.

OOC: Attempting quantum detection for unknown nova signatures. Range is 60 meters. Dice pool is Node.
Today: Gravitas rolled 3 successes using 6d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 with rolls of 9,9,3,1,5,8. Node - Quantum Detection.
Not a bad roll, really.

Gale was grumpy.  The branches brushed against the edges of her wings, and she frequently had to duck.  Trekking through the jungle on the ground felt grossly inefficient.  However, any stealth advantage would have been lost by having the winged woman in the sky.  So she followed Phantasm's lead, staying close to Gravitas.

Her face seemed permanently set in a frown.  Normally, a stealth mission like this wouldn't be her thing, but the Host of Eternity might be involved.  For reasons that she hadn't yet articulated to herself, she felt like she had to help keep Prodigal in check. If his people were causing this, well, she didn't want to leave it to somebody else to take care of.

Waiting for Phantasm and Dragon to give a signal, she stood next to Gravitas and cracked her knuckles impatiently.

New Friends
Whitley waited patiently at the arranged location, frightened by the future looming ahead, and annoyed by the tardiness of his contact.  In his many years, he had learned that timing was often everything… His memory wondered for a while, reviewing his long and exceptional past, until his constant companion interrupted.  I do not believe he is coming.  This is good, yes?  Our own plans require things move a bit more slowly than Justin and Enlil would prefer.  Yes my friend, if we are to pull this off we’ll need extra time.  I certainly hope we can convince them in what little remains.

Gambling
The dice fell, a 3 and 4.  Nevsky cursed and nearly threw his glass, but he quickly remembered where he was and thought better of it.  Instead, he stalked away from the table, pulling Serenade along with him.  He sat down in a booth with one of his men at his side, and waved angrily for another drink, ignoring the beautiful woman near him, though he still roughly held her arm.

The sheik, at a table nearby, chuckled quietly.  He gestured to his bodyguard, a discreet wave of the hand to bend close and listen.  “Wheelman you go by, yes? Wheelman, I do not think the criminal is having a good night.  I would like to make his night worse, and also would like the pretty American star at my table.  Go my friend, convince her to join me, there is a bonus for you if you do.  No, do not worry, my life is more secure here than anywhere else we’ve visited today.  The security would not let anything happen, it would be terrible for business.”

The man was right, of course.  The security, both human and nova, was impeccable.  Men in suits stood silently, waiting for orders to act from their bosses, undoubtedly monitoring every detail of the scene through the surveillance devices hidden around the room.  Three elites in garish dress that set them apart from the clientele, patrolled the area and a fourth nova stalked the place unseen.  Every nova in the room caught a glimpse of, or more likely was allowed to see,  a the fourth elite: dressed in black, skull mask adorning his face, shining spears held in each hand, the legendary elite was intimidating enough to quell any thought of nova violence.

Dillon, alone at his table, was handed a menu as he waited.  Others nearby were receiving menus of their own.  A tablet computer, delivered by two of the suited security staff, conveniently programmed with the preliminaries for the auction, the list of the night’s items, and the minimum starting bids.  The staff discreetly explained that it was also used for placing initial bids, then waited for a moment to answer any further questions before moving on to the next table.

The menu displayed many minor contraband items banned by Utopia and the majority of the world’s governments, mostly for the convenience of the extremely wealthy clientele interested in discreet access to taboo luxury items.  The higher profile items, the reason that so many important players were present, were further down the page.  Two prototype devices guaranteed to work, but too dangerous to put into production: a quantum field disruptor of unknown strength, and a device that allowed for one-way mental connections via a brain scanner similar to a double-wide MRI, both priced at 10 million euros.

At the bottom of the menu were two extremely troubling pieces of data for sale at a starting price of 15 million euros each: a complete listing of DeVries personnel with human resources information included, and the complete utopia files on Team Tomorrow Americas from the period immediately following the Columbian War.  Psych profiles, power breakdowns, virtually everything useful in predicting or opposing the novas in question.

Gods and Men
The Vigilance operatives took in the scenery.  Dragon’s military experience, Gale’s knowledge of plants, and Grav’s knowledge of everything else, made it fairly obvious that the burning took place roughly 3 weeks ago.  Traces of ruins dotted the area, leftovers of dynasties past, and likely made this a culturally significant spot for the battle that took place here.  The odd tableau spread at the center of the clearing was focused on the column and the impeccably carved woman attached to it.  The impromptu militia surrounding the statue were occupied by clearing away new vines, only recently emerged from the fire scorched soil, and leaving meagre offerings of food at the base of the statue.  Their faces held mixed, but powerful, emotions: anger, love, shame, sadness, loss.

It took a moment for them to notice the presence of the novas in their midst, hidden as they were by the forest; a young boy holding a rifle that was likely a leftover from the Great War, was the first to spot them as he moved through the forest to join the rest of the villagers.  Upon seeing Gravitas and his inky eyes, then Gale and her angelic wings, the boy prostrated himself on the ground.  Oblivious to the pain as he cut his knee on one of the many branches littering the forest floor, he exclaimed a few words in Bodo, the language spoken by many of the peoples native to the forests of the Assam province.  With the boy’s shouts from the forest, the others looked up from their work and quickly followed his example despite the fact that the novas were not in the villagers’ line of sight, falling into the same prone position and exclaiming the same words.

Phantasm and Gravitas, the two linguists in the group, had versed themselves in what limited written and recorded linguistic records of Bodo were available online.  Though not fully proficient in the language, they could both make out the words “Praise,” “Mercy,” and “Property”.  The last word, property, was followed immediately by the title of a powerful Hindu goddess, “Durga.”  Phantasm and Gravitas could easily tell that there was a religious element to all of this, likely a religious conflict that ended in loss for the villagers, but the specifics still remained obfuscated. The puzzle grew more complex as Gravitas sensed a faint pulse of quantum energy as the people spoke, emanating directly from the statue.

Dragon, his attention split between possible threats in the surrounding area and the scene in the clearing, sensed that there were others in the nearby forest.  As he edited out the noises of the local fauna, he discerned more details: A solid group, at least 10 strong, smelling of fire and gunpowder, at least 100 but no farther than 300 yards out.

After reporting the approach of the small force, Dragón - still heavily camouflaged - slowly shifted his position so that, if they attacked here, he'd be able to flank them.  He also kept half an eye on that statue.  It seemed strange to him that such poor villagers would have such an expertly carved statue as their shrine.  And if it were a relic of one of the earlier periods, would time have not dulled its features somewhat?

Comstock acknowledged Serenade's glance and sat quietly.  He did not want to make Vigilance a pariah by simply attacking and demolishing everyone and everything present.  There was enough power in the room that even with the people he'd brought there was no guarantee they would be able to accomplish anything anyway.  But there was a great deal at stake.

Comstock locked eyes with Juan and gave him a polite nod.  Solitaire was not going to be happy to see that man alive and well, but for now it paid to keep the peace.

After all, Totentanz was in the room.

He extended a hand to the computer.  Initial bids and funds had to be secured and confirmed in order to be accepted, payment in cash or bearer bonds acceptable, make an initial bid if you intend to make subsequent bids, et cetera et cetera.  "Show me something interesting," he said aloud, figuring that security or someone would pick up on it despite his sitting alone.  There were three objectives tonight: show his face and gather information on whoever else showed at the auction (done), sabotage or take possession of the auctioned goods (unlikely), and determine who was behind the auction in the first place (tricky).  Someone powerful, of course, but he doubted that the simple baseline name on the invitations to the auction had somehow managed to put together a few hundred million dollars in novatech and intelligence by chance.

He had one trump card.  He'd already called the Hell Kraken, inviting the man to gambling and refreshments.  But he'd been loathe to do so.  The Terat had already bankrolled so very much, and Vigilance could not be indebted to anyone or anything if it was to keep the peace.  And the Kraken could not be persuaded: if he did buy up anything tonight, it would be for some scheme of his own.

"Ser?" he flagged down one of the staff after he was finished reading.  "Please ask if payment may be accepted in goods and materials.  For some of these, I am willing to make an exception to my usual policies." He extended a finger and, with some effort, persuaded the zinc of the man's lapel pin to become gold.  "You understand me?"

Triton and Xenon were outside ... Wheelman and Serenade each had cover stories ... where were his other people?

While he waited for something to happen, Comstock decided to make himself quite visible.  He strolled over to Totentanz.  "You are a hard man to kill," he grunted.

The thing about Nova gambling was that after a certain point it became simultaneously trivially easy and utterly pointless to win.  The Mathematician could predict the likely outcome of a throw of the dice based on empirically observed deviations from truly random behavior; THE AMAZING RANDI™ could telekinetically manipulate the dice mid-throw; Totentanz could just grab the pot and who's going to stop him.  Really it made you feel kind of shabby to participate, especially when there were baselines at the table.  No one really remembered who had come up with the solution, but the breakthrough had been inspired.  When winning was trivial, the true challenge (in addition to a potent status symbol) was in losing in a spectacularly improbable, yet completely untraceable, fashion.  Thanks to the dice no longer being quite so square as they had been at the start of the game, Wilhelm was down thirty-two grand at the craps table, mainly to a red-faced, overly-loud energy executive in a Tom Mix hat.  This only put him in second place, unfortunately.  Some hip hop star from South London, a baseline no less, was more than a hundred grand in the hole.  Wilhelm couldn't figure out how he was doing it.  Maybe the lucky bastard was just that unlucky.

"Mister ... Boone was it?  What brings you to Krasnodar?  ...  Really?  How fascinating.  I guess there are advantages to not being recognized as a country by the UN."

Wilhelm chattered, mainly to fill the gaps in between the rolling of the dice.  He only caught about one word in five that was exchanged.  Eventually one of the words that came up was 'auction'.  He acted like the idea had never occurred to him before.

"An auction?  What a wonderful diversion.  I think I'll have a look at what they're offering for sale.  I don't think I'll be missing much action here.  The dice have turned decidedly against me it seems.  Gentlemen.  If you'll excuse me."

Wilhelm had scoped out the auction's offerings hours before, but it paid to see who was expressing an interest in making a purchase, if only because it might prove useful when some of this stuff wound up in a competitor's hands some time down the line.  Moreover, from the hastily filed-off serial numbers on the field disruptor, some of the stuff for sale was hot.  Wilhelm had an interest in who might put themselves forth as a middleman in an exchange of such stolen property.  A very personal interest.  One didn't run an auction such as this without a history of similar trades.  Who could tell what thieves this middleman had fenced for in the past?
This message was last edited by the player at 00:50, Wed 11 June 2014.

Phantasm took in Dragon's warning with minimal interest.  Baselines with guns weren't really worth the effort to deal with them. Though I suppose it's still worth shifting positions just to be safe and reduce energy expenditure deflecting the bullets.  A quick and silent sprint took her to the edge of the clearing, still concealed, behind a large tree.

The baselines in the clearing were marginally more interesting than the approaching soldiers, if only because of the clear nova influence.  While she had largely cut ties with her "human" self at the moment of chrysalis, Phantasm still felt baselines had rights, and Nova gods abusing their subjects upset her... and excited her darker instincts.  She liked killing "gods" and she'd gotten quite good at it over the years.

Over her headset, she spoke quickly and quietly, explaining what little she could translate.  "Praise, Mercy, Property, Durga.  A few more minutes of conversation and I'll have a better feel for the language, but we'll need some back and forth chatter first.  My guess so far is that a nova going by Durga is the problem here. And just an FYI, the title means "invincible" or "inaccessible".  It's also synonymous with the supreme goddess figure of Hinduism.  If anyone cares about that sort of stuff..."

Gale nodded in agreement with Phantasm. "That's what I'm getting too.  But what does this Durga have to gain here?"  The village didn't exactly seem like it would have much to offer a would-be god.  Unless all this god wanted was worship.  Perhaps this Durga was a local?

She paused to catch the attention of the boy who had discovered them and motioned for him to stand up.  One clawed hand pointed to the clearing, indicating that he should join his fellows there.  "That isn't necessary," she said, knowing that he probably wouldn't understand.  Then she held a finger to her lips.  "Keep quiet about us."  Dragon and Phantasm appeared to be trying to remain concealed.  Had the kid even seen them?

Exchanging a glance with Gravitas, she made no move to further cover.  Over the headset, she quietly asked "Dragon, any chance the nova is with the soldiers?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Activating Linguistic Genius
 Gale rolled 4 successes using 8d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((9,8,5,2,2,5,5,2)). Plus 5 auto-successes for Linguistic Genius for a total of 9
 

---

Sean sighed inwardly, being a bodyguard and driver for baselines didn't rub him the wrong way, he made far more money than most humans could dream of making, and it offered him an excellent vantage point to learn about lucrative stock deals and investment opportunities.  being a pimp, on the other hand was not what he had signed on for.  That line in the dossier about his current client being special, and to be afforded every courtesy meant that he was going to have to at least attempt to convince Serenade to come over and talk to the lecherous pig.  Not that she couldn't take care of herself, of course.  A not so inconsiderable part of himself hoped that she put him so completely out of his head that she would be able to abscond with a sizeable chunk of his fortune.  He nodded briskly, "Of course, sir, I return promptly, starlet in tow."
He walked purposefully over to the bar, near where Comstock and Totentanz were making small talk.  Very small talk.  Near microscopic talk.  "A 3 Mile Island, please," he said with the cool politeness that was his trademark.  While he was waiting for his drink to arrive he tuned to Totentanz and briefly inclined his head, "Totentanz, a pleasure and privilege as always." A near imperceptible nod in return indicated that his greeting had been acknowledged, the Skull was nothing if not polite, and truth be told was one of Sean's role models.  Detached, observant, ruthlessly competent.  Other than the truly disturbing list of dead novas the man left behind Sean hoped one day to be as good at what he did as the Skull was.  "Mr. Amargosa, a pleasure, my name's Sean Callaghan.  I work for Devries and I have been authorized to inform you that we would be very happy to have you on our client list and would be able to provide you with any and all nova solutions to any situation, from transport to PR to finance to the things that the luminary to your left is famous for, at a moment's notice."  He extended a business card with both is personal and the company's contact information on it.  As he spoke he sent a tight beam signal to the Krakentech Nautilus that bulged in The Man of Titanium's jacket pocket.  "Devries is troubled by the contents of the auction and is willing to back any bid that you make to acquire the company's stolen data."
Contact made with the two titans in the room, and drink ready, Sean walked over to where Serenade was.  "Ma'am, an unexpected pleasure to see you here.  My current employer has requested the pleasure of your company.  As you may know, his excellency is planning the New Year's celebration for the Burj Al Arab, and it is perhaps about employing you to perform at that event that he wishes to speak to you. "

"I have no idea of the composition of the group," Dragón murmured, "all I know is that, based on the sound of their footsteps, there are at least ten of them, they've been firing guns and burning things, and they'll be here within the next minute or two.  If I had to make a guess, I'd say we were looking at the same group that's responsible for the attack on this place a few weeks ago.  But that's just a 'w.a.g.,' I want to play on the safe side, just in case.  Besides, I don't think I could stand by and watch as these people got attacked again."

He noted Phantasm's quick dart to cover nearer the clearing...barely...  Caramba, we'd make a heck of a covert ops team, he thought, idly.  One or two "training" missions to work out each other's rhythms and strengths and they'd be really tough to stop.  And if things got hot...well that would just be too bad for the bad guys.  He flashed her a tight grin before turning his full attention back to making sure there were no surprises coming.
This message was last updated by the player at 14:11, Sat 07 June 2014.

"I do not detect a nova in the immediate area," the scientist reported quietly over the comm unit. "But I do detect an unusual quantum signature from the statue. It is quite faint, but seems to be resonating with the villager's words." He focused his senses on the statue, though his mundane senses continue to register nothing out of the ordinary except, perhaps, its quality. "If the woman depicted here were some sort of nova, her tiger's head could be a manifestation of quantum signature imbalance. In fact thi-" he cut himself off, "Nevermind, not relevant."

He had just about launched into a comparative analysis with various deific figures around the world associated with animals - with particular emphasis on the frequently-animal-headed Egyptian pantheon and the anthropomorphic deities of Hindu and traditional Chinese mythologies - and how they and other mythical figures attributed with divine features, such as Jesus, might have been nova precursors. It wasn't an original theory, he knew, but he wasn't aware of any literature associating the animal-aspected figures with the sort of mutations that sometimes arose from aberrant quantum signatures. He began drafting the lecture anyway, in case it ever became useful - if not, he could throw it up on an OpNet blog or something for public consumption.

Daphne had been doing her best to stay quiet and out of the other nova's way, but she had never really trained or tried to be sneaky in her life.  She choose to watch them and see what she could learn from her fellow nova. She tried to stay close to Gale. Though Daphne had been getting to know some of her fellow Nova, she still did not feel entirely comfortable around the strange people she had found herself with and the situations she followed them into.

Daphne was in awe of the environment around her. She had grown up in a city and had never really been outside of an urban environment. Let alone trekking through a forest in East India. She didn't really notice the heat or feel the humidity. Nor did she feel the leaves and branches that brushed against her force field. Daphne's inattentiveness to her immediate surroundings had caused her to take a branch to the face more than once on this long trip, but like everything else it didn't really affect her.

Upon coming to the clearing Daphne choose to stay in the tree line and simple look into the clearing. Staying quiet, she looking back and forth between her companions as they took stock of the situation they were in and the groups of people that were near them. Daphne had understood that coming on this mission might involve fighting, but hearing Dragon's words Daphne couldn't help but get more nervous than she already had been. She knew she would have to be in combat at some point. She had hoped, perhaps unreasonably so, that today would not be that day.

Gambling
Comstock received a polite nod in return from Juan before line of sight was broken by the security personnel.  The staff was taken off guard by his payment question, but whoever was directing them had a quick reply. “Sir, I’ve been asked to inform you that arrangements can be made, though the difficulties in dealing with raw materials makes it unlikely that you’ll receive market value for the precious metals.  Unless you’re willing to work in more exotic materials that is…” Unspoken was the fact that “Exotic” either meant weaponizable materials, or rare metals used in a variety of expensive and dangerous nova-tech devices.  “A full list of metals and our exchange rate will be up on your menu in a few minutes.  Please take advantage of the facilities in the meantime.”  The security made a quick exit, moving on to another table with questions, leaving Dillon to explore the room.

Totentanz was aloof from the business at hand, and difficult to reach as he shifted around the recesses of the room.  The warrior responded to Wheelman’s nod, but managed to avoid most other contact before Comstock cornered him, mostly by being the only one willing to approach him directly.  The elite gave a light chuckle at the metal man’s remark before turning the butt end of his spear to lightly rap on Comstock’s nearly impervious skin.  “I’m not the only one.”  His voice was a whisper, faint through the mask, and something in his bearing was a bit… off from the last time they had met, but he was moving again before more comments could be exchanged.

As Comstock turned to look back at his table, he caught Juan staring at him again.  The man pointed at him, then toward himself, then to his own ear.  We should talk.

-

The Hell Kraken’s knowledge of finances, and both legitimate and illicit vendors of high-end tech, made it relatively easy to narrow down the field of potential sellers.  The major corporations and governments were out; this was simultaneously too small in profit and too large in repercussions to be worth their time.  A purposeful leak on the part of Utopia or a major government was not out of the question though, especially concerning the info on T2M:A since most of them were now with Vigilance.  It would be an easy way to complicate things for the young organization with limited potential for blowback.

The risk to reward ratio was also below the threshold for any of the existing purveyors of illicit tech, and the major crime syndicates that remained.  There was no reason to hold a high profile meeting like this when they had a booming customer base that was quite happy to throw money at them.  No, this was an organization or an individual that had a personal stake in the proceedings.  One of the smaller elite agencies could be behind it; both Devries and the former members of T2M:A had enemies in the elite community.  The more inconvenient option was that a lone individual, or small cadre, was pushing an agenda forward and attempting to cause chaos with the auction.   Such a group would be more difficult to deal with, unless they could be tracked down somehow.

-

Sean’s approach to the Bratva’s table was keenly observed by Nevsky’s men, even as the man himself was busy alternately arguing with and cajoling the offended Serenade.  “…is important you make me look strong here, things are more complicated than they seem, dangerous even… What?!  Who is this?  Why do you bother us?”  Noticing Wheelman, Nevsky bristled, and he flushed in anger when the elite had finished his request.  “Of course she won’t go.  She is with me tonight.”  What serenade had to say on the matter was another question entirely, but she was uncharacteristically silent.

Gods and Men
The boy responded immediately to Gale’s command, running to join the others in the clearing.  He said nothing, though his eyes wandered back towards the forest, as the men around him shifted positions.  Several of them moved closer to the statue, sidling over to it on hands and knees, refusing to stand and possibly offend whatever visiting gods had come.  Two others crawled towards the area of the forest where the boy had emerged, head hung low even as they scanned the treeline with their eyes.

Daphne felt her heart race as the two men crawled directly toward her and stopped only a few meters away, but she realized after a moment that it was coincidence, they did not actually see her.  They spoke to the forest in placating, pleading voices, first in Bodo, then in broken Assamese.  With the extra language to use as a guide, and more example words of their native language, the three linguists were quickly absorbing the new language.  Gale was especially adept, possibly because of her time spent in the region doing climatological work and bird studies.


“We praise you great ones, and offer you our worship.  But please show mercy on us, and pass us by.  Durga claims this place, and she will punish us for greeting you.  She will harm you for being here, even as she did our god, turned to stone by Durga's mighty Word.” 

As they spoke, the men in the forest came closer.  Dragon could see movement now, though they were attempting stealth as they crept closer and fanned out to surround the clearing.  Phantasm was not positioned as well as Dragon, but she could sense them now too: cracking branches, the smell of soldiers, whispered commands passed between one another.

Comstock suddenly began to doubt that the man in the mask was actually 'the' Totentanz.  He did not know the man well, granted, but Elites at the top of the kill-list usually had more ego.  And masks could be worn by anyone.

Annoyed, he let the man slip away and drifted to Juan's table.  "Turned to more humanitarian pursuits yet, El Jefe?"  He seated himself with an audible thud.  Juan was a villain, but today, after all this time and Utopia's betrayal of its ideals and everything else, Comstock could not muster up more than the most cursory loathing.  "Solitaire would want me to say hi, I'm sure.  She'll be sorry she missed you."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
EDIT: for spelling.  And, Sol, if you need an intro to a scene, Comstock did just deliberately say your name.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 14:01, Tue 10 June 2014.

As the commands were passed to direct their movements, Dragón quickly sorted out which one of them was in charge.  He lifted a few inches off the ground and drifted silently toward him.  "Do we take these guys out?" he whispered into his comm.

Something didn't quite smell right to Wilhelm.  Perhaps it could be chalked up to Russians being Russians (after all, he could go just down the street from here and buy a diamond-encrusted, tungsten-plated SUV upholstered entirely in whale penis, off the lot no less), but everything seemed too flash for what the auction was actually providing for sale.  A sting, then?  An ambush?  Something more unfortunate and less predictable?  Turning 360-degrees in place, Wilhelm stopped to focus for a fraction of a second on every head he could spot, his carapace taking a photo and sending it off for facial recognition processing.  The technique was not infallible, especially in this day and age when everyone and their cousin wore masks or could alter their facial structure on whim, but most people (nova and baseline alike) didn't change their face too radically.  Who wanted to look in the mirror and not know who was staring back?  Bayesian inference would soon match everyone to what they came here to buy.  Anyone lacking an obvious target was probably the source of the auction's stink.

Wilhelm turned away from the auction and returned to the gambling tables as his computers churned through the masses of data needed to pattern match against all the faces on the Opnet.  He was no longer interested in the slightest in the games, but he did need some raw materials and the platinum plaques in use at the high-stakes baccarat table looked like just the thing.  With but a thought he appropriated a few micrograms of the metal from the plaques and reformed it into elegant Fraktur type embossed backwards on the surface of Comstock's left retina.

"Something peculiar is going on.  Who here are you bidding against?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Edit:  Fixed the previous post as I had missed that a setting had already been established for the scene.  A year or so ago.  Really do need to look through everything in depth.  No substantive changes.  Hopefully Krasnodar is suitably Russian.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 01:40, Wed 11 June 2014.

Daphne let out a silent sigh as she realized that she had not been spotted. Her heart still racing from the slight scare, she closes her eyes and thinks soothing thoughts as she tries to still her beating heart.

After this brief pause to calm herself, unsuccessfully, she looks in the general direction of Dragon."Perhaps they are not going to be aggressive?" Daphne responds with a noticeable hint of hope in her voice. "Though, if they aren't I guess I will be ready. I am a little lost if this situation devolves to combat though, should I just go for the nearest one?" Daphne knows her naivete and freshness is showing in this situation. I hope this doesn't come to blows she repeats this to herself while she waits for what she feels is the inevitable fight to begin.

Sean was inwardly amused. A baseline viewing a nova as a possession, simply because she was female.  Somewhere in the back of his mind was a very quiet gibbering fear, these people had the power to kill him, his family, everyone he knew. One day soon he'd have to take them up on their not yet proffered offer to perform the first. It was just a matter of baiting them just right. That'd take some very careful maneuvering. He snapped back into focus, Serenade's uncharacteristic passivity was clearly a ruse designed to make the cretins in the room drop their guard. "I am terribly sorry, sir, for intruding on your conversation, but my employer has requested it. Indeed, acceding to his request would perhaps serve to further strengthen the respect that those gathered here no doubt feel towards you. A man so confident and powerful that he would allow a creature such as this to talk with another. I promise you that the lady will be entirely unharmed and will be free to return to you when she wishes."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
5 sux on a manipulation subterfuge roll to convince the douche. Also, would Sean notice that something wasn't quite right about Totentanz? 5/5 perception/awareness 1 mega

---

"Easy Daphne," Dragón whispered into his comm, "remember that guns can't really hurt you.  These people here aren't so lucky.  If trouble starts, try to get between some of the guns and as many people as you can manage.  If you feel yourself getting nervous, try to focus on taking slow, even breaths."

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
12:17, Thu 12 June 2014: El Dragon rolled [3] 5 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((3,6,6,5,1,9,4,8,4,3,10))(+1 for Inspiration).  Charisma + Command to inspire confidence.

---

Gale moved and ducked down next to Daphne.  "He's right.  Either protect the civilians if you can, or stay close to one of us."  Her wings slowly opened, so she could have the advantage of a quick take off if necessary.  "They say Durga turned their god to stone, and that she will punish us," she translated for Daphne and Dragon's benefit.  "I think we should be ready for more than just baselines."  She disliked that the villagers were worshipping them as gods, but better to deal with one threat at a time.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:49, Fri 13 June 2014.

"Well," said Gravitas, "at least we have the advantage of numbers." His tight grin suggested that he thought any single individual, nova or not, was pretty unlikely to be a serious threat to their little task force. "Still, I wonder where this Durga figure is if not here subjugating the masses."

Comstock grunted and rubbed his eye, surprised though not actually in any pain.  The metal gradually dissolved, but the typeface left no doubts who sent the message.

With a few seconds and a bit of focus, he made a fractal antenna within his skin and tried to parse his thoughts on radio waves.  He was still rather clumsy, but had some favorite frequencies that Kraken would no doubt deduce.  "No one.  Everyone.  Haven't decided."  He wondered idly if anyone else would pick up on the signal, but had not yet mastered the trick of encrypting his own thoughts in real time.  Or being a telepath.  Half a conversation wouldn't help much.  "Just putting in an appearance to see what happens.  Glad you made it."  A slight lie, but he liked to think his radio voice was harder to read than his normal voice.

"What do you see?"

"...ahhh...that is right, how did I ever forget my place?  To make you look strong and powerful in public, and to make you feel masculine and satisfactory in the bed."    Serenade's voice carried to Nevsky's men and to Sean.  Her job with him was rather simple, keep him off balance, mess with his head.  She could have done this without offending his surprisingly fragile ego, but the minute he deigned to physically control her, the gloves came off.  She looked up at Sean, gave him a smile that reached her green eyes, and appeared grateful for the intrusion.  Before the Bratva boss could respond to her tactless attack, she has pulled away from him and walked around the table to hug and kiss Sean on both cheeks.  "But of course, I would enjoy discussing business with your employer...who is he?"   Turning to look at her "date" she spoke softly but by a trick of her abilities her words carried across the entire table, "The gentleman is right of course Malchik Moy* it would be rather unfortunate if you were to come across as impotent in your stewardship over such a delicate and vapid damsel such as myself.  Please, Sean, introduce me to your client."   With that she took Sean's offered arm and glided to the awaiting Sheik, all demure and inquisitive smiles.

...go ahead and chew on that you misogynistic asshole....

* My little boy in Russian

"Very good. Sir," Sean nodded to the mobster then handed Serenade the drink he'd brought with him and escorted her across to the Prince.  "An interesting person, ma'am, perhaps it would be wise to engage more security for the immediate future, or perhaps consider a more permanent solution if he doesn't back off," he whispered very quietly,  "He won't try anything here, of course, but after, who knows?" upon arriving back at the Prince's table he bowed smoothly, "Lady Serenade, allow me to introduce his Higness Hamdan bin Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum,  supreme president of Hamdan bin Mohammed e-university, and hereditary prince of Dubai." Task accomplished, Sean moved to stand discretely behind his employer, keeping careful tabs on the Bratva.

Daphne listened to Dragon's advice and though it was probably good for people who needed to and could breath, Daphne hadn't needed to or been able to since her eruption. Though she decided it would be better to not point this out and simple try to focus on the rest of Dragon's advice. "thanks, I will do just that then.

Daphne attempts to adjust her position to be ready to step in front of the indigenous people.

Dragón ghosted up to the leader of the "raiders", his suit carefully matching the jungle shadows.  It was time to take some action.  Hopefully, if he took out the one giving the orders, the rest would be more inclined to just run away - or at least back down.  Aiming for the nerve cluster just below and behind the man's left ear, he delivered a carefully aimed and measured strike.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
10:07, Wed 18 June 2014: El Dragon rolled [8] 13 successes using 15d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((1,9,6,10 [Mega],10,9,4,10,2,5,6,3,7,9,10)).  If that doesn't knock this guy out, we may be in serious trouble :)

10:18, Wed 18 June 2014: El Dragon rolled [6] 9 successes using 14d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((10 [Mega],7,1,1,6,9,7,2,2,3,10,7,3,4)). For Stealth.

10:22, Wed 18 June 2014: El Dragon rolled [6] 10 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((5,4,10,9,2,8,10,5,10,2,10)).  For Weave, to remain a shadow.

Those are the best die rolls I've gotten since I started playing this game.  All those 10s just to take out a scrubby little merc...the dice are probably gonna choke me when things get really dangerous.

---

Hmm.  Guess we're doing this.  Phantasm was happy to sit and let things play out for a bit, but catching a hint of movement as Dragon ghosted by, she figured waiting wouldn't do much good at this point.  He'll be taking out the leader.  That leaves me to clean up any brave-but-stupid leftovers.

Phantasm made a sprint to the rough position of the group of approaching humans, made a leap to the lowest branches of a tall tree overlooking the group - easily quadruple her height - then watched as Dragon took down their leader with ease.  "Nice hits." she whispered through her earpiece to let him know she had his back. The first of the men to attempt to open fire on Dragon would be reduced to unconsciousness before they could pull the trigger. Ah, bonding time.

Rundstrahl?  Ehrlich...  Wilhelm didn't bother correcting Comstock's poor spycraft.  The channel he was using to communicate didn't have enough bandwidth to explain the relevant principles and fixing the problems would probably only succeed in directing attention his way.  Instead he just hoped that Comstock wouldn't transmit anything identifiable.  Comstock broadcasting in the clear wasn't so much of a problem if nobody knew who he was broadcasting to.

"Dreck, mainly.  Do you know how much money it takes to book Totentanz?  Selling half the stuff here wouldn't cover his fee.  And he'd be helping to burn the people that give him money.  I'll believe many things of the man, but not that he'd betray so cheaply.  Plus, if you were selling DeVries' files would you trust him enough to hire him?  Or would you want no one with any ties to DeVries within a hundred kilometers of your auction?"

As Wilhelm ran out of retina to type on the text started to reform from beginning to end.  Reading was difficult for a while.

"Then there's the matter of the information in question.  Rumor of its sale would be certain to draw all sorts of people out of the woodwork.  Perhaps people that one might want to catch in a compromising position.  Perhaps, if the auction is legit, dangerous people who wouldn't be of a mind to pay to get their information back and who would make it very difficult to realize a profit.  The safest way to make a profit wouldn't be an auction.  It would be selling the information back to its rightful owner."

Another retina wipe.

"None of this adds up."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:18, Wed 25 June 2014.

"Yeah.  That's what I thought."  He actually didn't know how much money it cost to book the Skull, but it didn't really matter.  Either this was a small, pointless auction for bad product, or just an expensive ruse to draw people out.  Either way, that wasn't the Skull.

His attention wandered between the conversation with Juan and the beautiful script that kept blocking his sight.  "I'll put in a bid.  I can live with buyer's remorse."  He wanted to see who wanted those lists.